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wherevermyway · 3 years

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can’t wait for you (to shut me up) // binsung // oneshot // 18+

pairing: seo changbin x han jisung rating: explicit! 18+ warnings/tags: smut, food kink, roommates, spicy (literally), dacryphilia, don’t try this at home, explicit sexual content word count: 5,475 also on AO3

originally posted: 14 december 2020

Han Jisung doesn’t turn down a dare. Ever. His roommate and occasional fuckbuddy, Seo Changbin, however, makes Jisung regret being so cocky and arrogant after he gets his hands on some capsaicin extract.

Alternatively: fuck bruh moments, Jisung has an Icarus moment.

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction! any reference to persons in this work of fiction are purely coincidental. the characters referenced from Stray Kids are interpretations loosely based on their personalities in the group and do not represent the real people behind the personas. if this, or any of the content included in the warnings above make you uncomfortable, please stop reading now.

Saturday nights always proved to be bizarre. Jisung’s friend and roommate, Changbin, was quiet and reserved six out of seven days of the week, only completely opening up as he got drunk and played some stupid multiplayer game every Saturday evening. As the night went on and Changbin’s friends logged off, the two of them would usually split a twelve pack of cheap beer together, take a break from their class projects, and do stupid things that usually involved drunken dares.

Jisung was never one to turn down a dare. He had an arrogant nature that would likely prove to be a fatal flaw one day. “You’re gonna regret that,” Changbin would tut, shaking his head after Jisung would accept a dare without hearing it out. Usually, it was something stupid or mindless, like licking honey off of Changbin’s foot, or walking through the library with a vibrating butt plug for as long as the upperclassman deemed necessary.

They weren’t dating — at least, not officially; this was something they constantly stressed with each other and their friends. Their relationship was just an eclectic, liberal interpretation on the boundaries of friendship. Friends could fuck each other after all, right? Honestly, the sex was too good between them to really bother with dating other people, but they did agree that they weren’t exclusive, even if it had been a year and a half of the same strange dynamic.

“You stupid motherfucker!” Jisung could hear Changbin shouting at the television all the way down the dorm hallway. The anthropology student was generally mellow and calm, until he had a couple beers in his system and joined a gaming session with his friend Chan.

The younger blond shook his head with a smirk as he ripped his lanyard out of his pocket, shuffling around to get the correct key to their dorm in between his fingers. The four single-serve shots Jisung snuck into the library for his study session were having an effect on his ability to smoothly rifle through the keys, but not enough to actually affect his cognition. Jisung slid the key into the lock and turned it.

When he opened the door, he expected to see Changbin, but he didn’t expect to see him in a loose, torn tank top and basketball shorts, especially not in the dead of winter. Toronto was cold, even indoors, and Changbin was sometimes nothing short of a madman. The older man was too busy yelling banter into his headset to notice Jisung standing in the doorway with his eyebrows comically raised and his jaw hanging open a bit.

Jisung tried to regain his composure before Changbin realized that his roommate was home, but, as he brought his bottle of beer up to his lips, the older man turned his head slightly, and they made eye contact. A bit of lager splashed up against Changbin’s face; he recoiled and quickly wiped his chin off. Jisung darted his eyes away, nearly forgetting to remove his key from the lock as he shut the door behind him and awkwardly mumbled some sort of greeting.

There was tinny chatter coming from Changbin’s headset, knocked slightly askew, and the older man scoffed. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he rolled his eyes and offered a polite wave with his fingers as he stared at the television, mashing some buttons on the controller in his hand. He set the near-empty bottle down on the table and raised his voice a bit. “If these motherfuckers would stop spawning missile launchers and aiming them solely at me, maybe I’d be able to help better.”

Jisung set his bag down on the kitchenette countertop, then opened the fridge and grabbed two beers from the door. He scanned the contents of the fridge, hoping that there was still leftovers from a couple nights prior. However, his face fell to a slight frown as nothing but a half-empty carton of whole milk and seven bottles of beer stared back at him. It was late, and Changbin probably figured Jisung would eat while he was out.

He wasn’t incorrect, but Jisung really looked forward to stealing one of the cold slices of leftover pizza when he got home; it always went well with the Molson Changbin would get for the weekend after class on Fridays. It was a mediocre beer at best, but it was good for mindless drinking. “Bummer,” Jisung muttered under his breath, grabbing a couple of the bottles from the shelf. He closed the door to the fridge and took the magnetic bottle opener off of the door. He popped the caps off of the beer bottles, leaving the bent metal on the countertop as he made his way over to the cheap, scratchy couch, languidly flopping down next to Changbin, putting an amber bottle down on the table next to his other beer bottle.

The older man grunted as thanks, focusing on the enemy in his sights on the screen, his tongue between his teeth and eyes squinting in concentration. This week’s gaming session with Chan featured Grand Theft Auto V, Jisung recognized the map. Changbin had mentioned something about a double XP event, and that he and Chan were trying to get their crew’s ranking higher up the list. It was all some inane bullshit that went in one ear and out the other to Jisung, but he enjoyed listening to it, regardless, since Changbin’s face would light up as he passionately explained just how renowned their crew had gotten.

This also meant that Jisung could get away with being a little handsy with Changbin, especially since he started drinking a little sooner than normal for a Saturday night. He took a long swig from his beer, then set the bottle down on the table, scooting closer to the older man. Changbin didn’t notice, still leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. Jisung crawled his fingertips up Changbin’s thigh, causing the upperclassman to involuntarily flex for a moment, his head twitching to the side but unable to break his gaze away from his match.

Jisung’s fingers kept creeping closer and closer to the inside of Changbin’s thighs, which parted further and further away with each little movement. After Jisung’s fingers landed over the stretched fabric above Changbin’s pelvis, the older man lifted his arm and leaned back a bit. He nodded once, silently granting Jisung permission to continue. The younger man bit his lip in excitement as he slipped down to the floor on his knees.

There were a lot of nice, strange little oddities about their relationship that Jisung loved. About a year ago, when things started to shift from stupid drinking dares to more sexually explicit dares, Changbin had drunkenly dared Jisung to suck him off while he was on voice chat, gaming with Chan and a couple of his friends. “Don’t look away from my face,” he had demanded with a bit of an ironic quiver to his voice. “I wanna look down and see you staring up at me.”

“That sounds like fun,” Jisung giggled as he accepted the dare. “You sure you can stay quiet enough for your friend to not notice, though?”

Changbin flushed, looking away from Jisung as he gritted his teeth. “You don’t hear me in my room late at night; Chan won’t hear anything. Besides,” he rolled his eyes and sighed, “Chan’s heard me get off over voice before, and he doesn’t care; actually probably finds it hot, knowing him. Wouldn’t shock him, really.”

It still wouldn’t shock him a year later, but now he’d give Changbin shit for roping his roommate into it, instead of just handling it himself. None of their friends knew that they were more than roommates, but Jisung’s friend Felix had suspected something was happening when Jisung agreed to be roommates with Changbin again for his junior year of university. Likewise, Chan had made some choice quips about how Changbin should have moved out and gotten a real apartment, not an apartment-style dorm that was ultimately owned by the university.

For this odd dynamic, some things were worth sacrificing.

Jisung worked in a calculated fashion as he offered small licks and nibbles up and down Changbin’s cock. The main objective wasn’t to get him off, just riled up enough to cause a bit of tension. Changbin slowly started to become more and more disheveled the longer Jisung teased him, the final nail in the coffin was when Jisung kept tonguing at his frenulum with progressively lighter and lighter licks.

“I’m done, man,” Changbin growled into his mic, grabbing Jisung by the hair and roughly pulling him back. There was a pause as they stared at each other, the younger man smiling and showing off his teeth with a wide, proud grin. “It’ll be fine, dude,” Changbin continued with a hint of a whine, pressing a couple of buttons on his controller. “We can deal with it tomorrow. I’ve got more important things to deal with.” The older man motioned for Jisung to get up and rolled his eyes. “Shut up, Chan. You’re just jealous. Night.”

Changbin practically tossed the controller across the room after he turned his system off. “You’re trouble, distracting me like that when you knew it was a big weekend for Chan and me,” he tsked, standing up and tucking his dick back into his shorts. “I hope you’re ready for a hell of a dare.” He padded off to the kitchen and Jisung smacked his hands against the coffee table to a loose rhythm.

“I’ll take whatever you throw at me,” the blond smirked. “Favourite part about the weekend.”

The elder shook his head. “You’re not going to think that after tonight.”

Jisung watched Changbin rifle through the cupboards of the kitchen and he tucked his head into his hands. “Come on,” he drawled out with a whine, “all of the stuff you’ve dared me to do has been mild and pretty boring so far. Unless you’re gonna have me walk around naked, blindfolded, and in high heels with nipple clamps down the hallway, I don’t think you can really shock me at this point.”

Changbin paused. The mental image of Jisung’s words must have danced around in his thoughts, because he was frozen for at least half of a minute, letting out a stifled shudder as he turned around. “Not quite that, but it won’t be mild, to say the least.”

“So get on with it. What’s the dare you’ve got in store, Binbin?”

“The first part is simple,” Changbin smirked and leaned back up against the counter, folding his arms. “Let me suck you off.”

Jisung’s eyes lit up, and Changbin already knew this was going to end up poorly. “Hell yeah!” The blond shimmied his shoulders and nodded his head. “I’m already down for whatever you’ve got in store.”

A simple shake of the head is all that Changbin offered in response. He untucked his right hand, showing off a tiny vial with a small, viscous liquid inside of it. “You didn’t even hear the whole dare.”

“When have I ever said no to your dares?” Jisung had a point: a year of dares every Saturday, and he never once declined. It was stupid, though, because he never heard the entire thing through. Changbin would bait him with a good idea, then throw in the crazy idea afterwards. It had always worked out, but tonight’s dare could easily go sour very quickly.

“This isn’t like the others,” Changbin’s smile faded and he shook the bottle between his fingertips. “I know you get really eager over these dares, but this one is gonna hurt. It’s high time you learned to stop being so overzealous, Sungie.”

Jisung scoffed and rolled his eyes, slapping his hands down on the table. “Whatever, whatever, man. What’s the last half of the dare?”

Changbin gritted his teeth and pulled his lips into a straight line. “This isn’t something you can really say ‘no’ to after you actually ingest it.”

“Drugs?”

“I mean, technically? It’s a chemical.”

A confused frown grew on Jisung’s face. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You wonder why I’ve been ordering spicy takeout all week?” He sets the vial down behind him and tucks his hands into the pockets of his shorts. Jisung shrugs his shoulders and makes a noncommittal grunt in response. “I’ve been gauging your tolerance level to see if you could handle an intense dare.”

Jisung rolled his eyes again. “Spice challenges are boring, dude,” he pouted as he looked at Changbin. “We killed that one at Roma’s last week—”

“Twelve million scoville units.” Changbin cuts off the excited junior. Jisung quickly loses the arrogance in his demeanour and sinks into himself a bit as his eyes grow wide. “Yeah, I thought so. Don’t worry, it’d only be two drops from this vial. You consume two drops of this hellfire oil, and I’ll distract you by sucking you off. Still interested?”

There’s a long, uncomfortable pause that hangs in the air as Jisung weighs his options.

Changbin curses something unintelligible under his breath. “I’ve got other, less potent ideas,” he offers, biting his lip as he watches Jisung think.

“Sure, I’ll still do it,” the younger man says with a shrug, like it didn’t really matter to him at all.

“Sungie,” Changbin brings his knuckles to his forehead, shaking his head as he sighs with disappointment, yet still smirks to himself. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

Jisung stared at the plate in front of him, with two neon red spicy cheetos set in the middle, one on top of the other. It almost looked like a photo he had seen in one of his art history books, so captivating by its simplicity. He had eaten these MSG-laden salt bombs several times. Adding a couple drops of oil infused with the epitome of lava would be fine, right? Temporary discomfort. Temporary.

“Sungie,” Changbin grabbed Jisung’s shoulder, softly shaking him. “Did you hear what I just said?”

The blond shook his head. “Sorry, got distracted.”

“This is a really stupid idea,” the older man sighed, “like, I really don’t think we should do this.”

Jisung knitted his brows together and scoffed. “I’m not turning this down. We’re doing this, dude.”

There was an irritated groan that came from Changbin as he gritted his teeth and tucked his head into his hand. He stared at Jisung and frowned. “I’m going to regret challenging you to do this more than you’re going to regret accepting this dare, I just know it.”

“That’s on you,” the younger man arrogantly quipped, running a hand through his hair with fake confidence. He grabbed the bottle of beer that was next to the small plate and chugged the last of it, slamming it down on to the table. “Anything to get you to get me off.”

“You know, you can just ask me.”

“Yeah, but dude, where’s the fun in that? That’s so… domestic, like actual couples do that.” Jisung rolled his eyes and smirked. “Anyway, let’s get this over with. Hey, we could film it and go viral or some shit, too, that could be fun.” Changbin deadpanned and scowled, causing Jisung to wave a hand nervously. “It was a joke, man.”

The older man shook his head and grabbed the tiny glass vial, staring into the oil as it lazily sank down the sides of the bottle. He continued to scowl, squeezing the dropper and unscrewing the lid from the glass. “You don’t have to do this,” he repeated, yet still brought the dropper over the red snacks.

“Shut up,” Jisung folded his arms and sighed. “If you really didn’t want to do this, you wouldn’t be going through with it. Just admit you wanna watch me sweat and cry and suffer and call it a day. You’re such a sadist.”

A flush crept up on Changbin’s face. He said nothing, just shook his head and dropped a single, quick drop of oil on each nuclear red corn puff. As he hovered his hand over the plate, Changbin nervously looked up at Jisung and opened his mouth to say something.

“Nope,” Jisung grumbled, shaking his head. “I’m not backing out of this, so don’t say anything.”

The older man rolled his eyes, then screwed the cap back on to the vial. “Fine,” he muttered, standing up and making his way into the kitchen. “Then I’ll just tell you that, again, you’re an idiot for accepting this.”

“You’re an idiot for suggesting this!” Jisung shouted and let his jaw hang agape for a moment, hands thrown up in the air in disbelief.

Changbin spun around on his heel and pointed a finger in Jisung’s direction. “You need to stop accepting dumb things without hearing the whole thing first!”

Jisung pouted and dropped his hands, recoiling a bit. “I only accept these things from you because I trust you, Binbin.”

The way Jisung’s voice went from an irritated shout to a soft whine caused Changbin to visibly wince. “Sungie,” he started, bringing his palm to his face with a heavy sigh. “That was harsh of me, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I guess,” the blond mumbled. “Just grab the stupid milk and get back over here. The whole point of this was so you’d suck my dick and distract me anyways.”

Changbin did as requested, but the air in the room was different now. He set the carton of milk down on the table and tugged his tank top down, playing with the hem of his shirt as he sat down on the couch. “You gonna be okay?”

Jisung took in a deep breath, looking away from the plate in front of him, turning his head to look at Changbin. They stared at each other for a moment, and then nervousness behind the blond’s eyes faded as he arrogantly smirked. “I’ll feel a lot better once you’re between my legs and doing your best to distract me.”

The older man couldn’t help but deadpan again, rubbing his temples with his middle finger and thumb. “You’re something else, Jisung,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, but you like that about me.”

“It’s true,” Changbin shrugged, dropping his hand to his lap. “You ready?”

Jisung turned to look at the plate and he nodded once. “This is a dumb idea, but fuck it.” He reached his hand out to the hellish crisps, fingers twitching a bit as he grabbed both of them off of the plate. He turned to look at Changbin, whose eyes were wide as he swallowed with anticipation.

“You sure about this?”

“Shut up, Changbin.” Jisung rolled his eyes, then shakily put the food into his mouth.

He chewed for a couple of seconds, nothing really happening. Maybe the oil that Changbin got from his friend Hyunjin was a dud. Then, he swallowed and everything started to fall apart. Rapidly.

Jisung’s eyes went wide as he coughed and shook his head a second later. “Oh my god!” He panicked, hands flailing and fanning his head as his face reddened. “Jesus fucking Christ, that’s—” he choked on his own saliva, coughing up a fit. Changbin’s face contorted in reactionary terror, reaching out to the carton of milk, offering it to Jisung as the younger man shook.

“This was a horrible idea, why the fuck did you go along with this?”

Jisung ignored Changbin’s comment, practically drowning himself in milk as he choked down the liquid, trying to swallow it and breathe at the same time. “Hot,” garbled up from his throat, some of the white liquid sputtered up into the air as he spoke, some dribbling down his chin. “Changbin,” Jisung whined, his eyes teary, glistening as much as his face was as it started to sweat, some visibly beaded up on his forehead. “Distract me,” he managed to pant out between gasps, wiping his face off with one hand and motioning towards his lap with the other.

“You’re a madman,” Changbin licked his lips, biting at the inside of his cheek as he watched Jisung unravel into a sweaty, teary mess. If Jisung could focus on anything other than the stinging, stabbing pain in his mouth, he would have noticed that Changbin was enjoying this a bit too much. Instead, he wanted to rip his tongue out of his mouth and forget he ever existed.

He decided, right then and there, that he was never going to take on a dare like this again.

Changbin stumbled to the floor, too busy watching Jisung writhe and sweat to pay close attention to undoing the button and zipper to the younger man’s jeans. The blond leaned back into the couch, chest rapidly rising and falling as he panted and whined, letting out strings of profanity as he suffered. Sweat, tears, and saliva dripped down his face, making Jisung’s face shimmer in the bluish white light of their dorm.

“For fuck’s sake,” Jisung loudly whined, shakily reaching a hand up Changbin’s head, curling his clammy fingers in his hair, “distract me, come on.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Changbin apologized, tilting his head down to focus on getting Jisung’s cock to spring free from the confines of his jeans and boxers. Surprisingly, it was already half-hard, causing Changbin to lift one of his eyebrows and offer a quip. “Excited over this, huh?”

Jisung groaned, rolling his head back and pushing Changbin’s head down. “Not distracting me,” a long, drawn out whine interrupted his sentence, “like you promised.”

Changbin chose not to say anything, instead he dug his elbows into the couch as he worked Jisung’s cock into his mouth. He gently pressed the tip of his tongue against the base, eliciting a small squeal from the younger man, who twitched and whimpered in response.

“More, please.” Jisung rolled his shoulder blades up against the back of the couch, furrowing his brows and wiping his forehead haphazardly with his free hand. “Wanna fuck your mouth, wanna come all over that pretty face of yours.”

The older man curled his lips in a devious smile. “I just said I’d suck you off,” he pulled back a bit, looking up at Jisung with a bit of snark, “not that I’d get you off.” Changbin flashed his teeth with an evil grin, until Jisung lifted his head and wildly stared down at him.

“If I didn’t feel like my face was about to fucking melt off,” Jisung hissed through his teeth, trying to stay relatively composed, “I swear to god I—” Changbin firmly gripped the base of Jisung’s cock and wrapped his lips around the head, sucking at it hard enough to cause the blond to stutter over his words. “Distracted, yeah,” he weakly moaned out, letting his head lull back.

There was an audible pop as Changbin pulled his lips off of Jisung’s head. “Distraction and sucking your dick was what the deal was.” He continued to grin, letting his hand continue to work Jisung’s shaft as he watched the younger man’s face contort in reaction. “Maybe once everything’s settled and you stop crying over a little pain, I’ll give you what you really want.”

Tears continued to stream down Jisung’s face no matter how much he tried to mop them up with the back of his hands. There was a fair amount of runny mucous dripping from his nose, too, rendering him into a sloppy, sticky mess.

Admittedly, it was a bit gross, but Changbin found it more disturbing that seeing his junior fall apart made him painfully hard. The way his tears shined on his pink cheeks, the way he whimpered and mewled in discomfort, all of it was strangely arousing to him. “Maybe we should shower first,” Changbin laughed to himself as he moved back down and wrapped his lips around Jisung’s cock.

“Maybe you should,” Jisung panted heavily, looking down to the older man, gasping as he spoke, “should go fuck yourself.”

Changbin looked up at the underclassman and flipped him off with a free hand. He hummed a laugh, the vibrations causing Jisung’s eyes to cross. The younger man threw his head back and rolled his hips up into Changbin’s face, causing the upperclassman to choke a bit, not expecting to feel Jisung’s cock hit the back of his throat.

Jisung pulled his shirt up and off as Changbin continued to bob his head up and down, circling his tongue around the length in his mouth. “Fuck,” the younger man whimpered, hastily wiping his face with his shirt as if it were a kitchen towel. He continued to let out a few strangled curses as he ran a hand through his hair.

Changbin offered a few more tongue flicks against Jisung’s cock before pulling away and standing up. “Come on,” he offered a hand to the perplexed man on the couch, “as much as I’m loving this, I really just wanna get fucked by you.”

After some extensive handwashing and some half-assed showering, Changbin found himself bent in half over his bed, with two of Jisung’s fingers inside of him. “I should just fucking edge you,” the younger man quipped with a smirk on his face, watching his elder twitch his fingers against the bedsheets, awkwardly scrambling for purchase.

“Please,” Changbin whined, “I gave you what you wanted, Sungie.”

“Yeah, you did.” Jisung slipped a third finger inside, biting his lip back as the upperclassman writhed and moaned underneath him. “Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t wanna see you suffer a bit as payback.”

Changbin gritted his teeth, turning his head back a bit to stare up at Jisung. “Fuck you, I told you what you were getting into. Hell, I warned you several times.”

“You had your fun,” Jisung bent over and nipped at Changbin’s shoulder. The teeth sinking into his skin caused the older man to let out a bit of a moan. “My turn, now.” He curled his fingers down, causing Changbin to drop further, letting his head collide against the mattress as he mumbled incoherently in approval.

“Yeah, I like that. You should keep your mouth shut more often, huh?” Jisung rocked his fingers back and forth a bit, then gradually started pumping them in and out of the man beneath him. “I bet you probably loved watching me cry out there, didn’t you?”

Changbin attempted to choke out an affirmation, but he was too lost in the feeling of how Jisung’s fingers moved inside of him to coherently respond.

“Figures,” Jisung tutted. “You’ve always been a weird one. I’m feeling impatient tonight, Binbin. While I’m annoyed you enjoyed making me cry, I’m tired of being hard.” He pulled his fingers out, then brought his hand to his cock, wiping some of the lube around it. Changbin opened his mouth to speak, but Jisung cut him off, slowly pushing his cock inside of the older man.

Instead of spouting off of a bold comment, Changbin lets out a throaty groan, gripping the sheets tighter. Jisung slowly pushes himself completely inside the upperclassman, a smirk growing on his face as he watches the man under him twitch. “You feel nice,” Jisung breathes out, moving his hands to both of Changbin’s hips, “you feel so nice. Want me to keep moving?”

Unable to form a coherent sentence, Changbin simply nods, and Jisung smiles. The younger man grips the hips in his hands tighter as he slowly moves in and out. The men exchange a myriad of lewd noises between them as they blend together.

“Jisung,” Changbin arched his back, tilting his head closer to the younger man. He didn’t have to respond for Jisung to know what he wanted.

The younger man shifted his hand from Changbin’s left hip up into his hair, running his fingers through the soft, damp, brown locks. It started off as a soft tug, then he quickly drew his hand into a fist and pulled back, eliciting a sharp cry from the older man.

This was Jisung’s favourite part of their interactions. Changbin liked to be pushed around a little bit after Jisung completed his dares. “Who’s gonna cry now, hmm?” He ruffled his senior’s hair around a bit, then tugged on it again as he thrusted in hard, stilling his movements. “Asked you a question, babe.”

“You can’t make me cry,” Changbin said, choking back tears. It was a bold-faced lie, they both knew that, but it fed into the moment.

“That a dare?” Jisung scoffed, then tugged at Changbin’s hair once more.

A whine escaped Changbin, eating away at his confidence. “Of course it’s a goddamned dare.”

“It’s always a dare.” As soon as Jisung finished speaking, he started roughly fucking into Changbin. The brunette tried to dip his head down and lose himself in the moment, but the blond held his head up by the hair gripped between his fingers. “I’m not gonna stop until I see you break, babe.”

“You’re gonna,” Changbin mumbled, “gonna have to try harder than that.” He tried to sound confident, but it was obviously false confidence. A few tears fell from his eyes, causing Jisung’s lips to curl upwards.

“Aww,” the underclassman mocked, “you’re doing a terrible job at faking it.”

Jisung let go of Changbin’s hair, letting the brunette’s head drop, then moved his newly-freed hand down to stroke he upperclassman’s cock. His stroking was a bit frantic, his thrusts becoming less and less controlled. “Want me to come on your back like always?” His voice cracked a couple of times as he kept moving.

Surprisingly, Changbin shook his head. “N-no,” he whined, “inside. Come inside me.”

“Really?” Jisung knitted his brows in confusion. That was something they had never done before, and the idea made his stomach flip. “If you’re being serious, I need to know, Bin.” He panted once before Changbin nodded his head.

“Just fucking come inside of me,” the brunette whined, “I’m so close and it’ll—”

Before Changbin could finish his statement, Jisung doubled over and let out a shuddering moan. He kept pumping the cock in his hand, but his movements were disjointed. Changbin shakily reached between his legs, wrapping his hand around Jisung’s, helping the younger man finish him off.

It took maybe two strokes before Changbin came on to his sheets. They would have to clean the sheets later, but that was fine. Hell, they could just sleep in Jisung’s bed, if they were really that out of it. Feeling the sticky, sweaty weight of Jisung atop him was worth it. They awkwardly laid there for a few moments, catching their breath.

“Hey, Jisung?”

“What is it, Bin?”

“No more fucking dares. At least,” Changbin sighed and rolled his eyes, “think them through before accepting them first, yeah?”

Jisung smiled, planting a kiss between Changbin’s shoulder blades. “I’ll consider it. No guarantees, though.”

“You just want me to keep fucking you after you complete a dare, don’t you?”

“Technically,” the younger man shrugged as he shakily rose to his knees, “I fucked you this time. But yeah, I want you to keep doing that. I wanna keep this up.”

“You’re so fucking dumb.” Changbin pushed himself up by his palms, his arms trembling a bit from all of the activity.

Jisung looked down at Changbin before pulling the older man back by the shoulders. “Yeah, but you like that about me.” Changbin opened his mouth to protest, but found his lips locked with the younger man. The energy between them as they kissed was different than their usual kisses. This was needier, more intimate and felt special compared to the others.

The older man broke away from the kiss first, for just a moment, looking down, then back up to make eye contact with the younger man. “I don’t want you to date anyone else.”

“What?” Jisung pulled back, blinking rapidly.

Changbin rolled his eyes, his expression softening. “You’re so dense, Sungie. We should be exclusive.”

Jisung shook his head. “No, no, I get that.” He smiled, awkwardly giggling at the same time. “I just never thought you’d be so cute about it.”

The brunette gritted his teeth and his expression fell into a scowl. “Don’t call me cute.”

“Fuck you,” Jisung laughed. “If you wanna actually date me, then get used to it.”

“You know what?” Changbin shifted his position a bit, letting Jisung’s cock fall out of him and cum drip down his legs as he turned. He grabbed the younger man by the shoulders and pinned him down to the bed. “Maybe I just will.”

They exchanged playful smirks with one another before they connected their lips together once more, kissing each other a bit more tenderly than they usually did.

“The boyfriend instead of the roommate,” Jisung quipped, bringing his hands up to Changbin’s face. “I like the sound of that.”

Changbin pushed a soft kiss to Jisung’s lips before pulling back with a smile. “Me too.”

#can't wait for you to shut me up #skz smut #skz fics #seo changbin x han jisung #han jisung x seo changbin #changbin x jisung #jisung x changbin #binsung #wherevermyway

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ssixa · 4 years

Text

CHANCE ENCOUNTER//MARK TUAN X Y/N

Description: Walking into the night shift at the hospital proves to keep you on your toes. Nights are left to the universe so you can only hope that tonight will be decent. What happens when you find out that one of your patients is THE Mark Tuan from GOT7? how do you try to deal with the chaos erupting from this chance encounter? and how many times do you have to tell yourself that you love your job?

Genre: fluff, slight cringe, smut (in this chapter)

Pairing: Black Fem Reader x Mark Tuan (though I will say there isn’t much description of black characteristics)

Word count: 5.7K

Warning: explicit language, SMUT!!!!!!, mention of piercings, drinking, switch, slight restraining, breath play

A/n: sorry for the hella late post! I got in this solid routine of studying and I didn’t want to break my stride with it lol. This is the first legit smut scene I’ve written before the narrative about Narachan that I posted. I’m still not very good at writing smut though, but I enjoyed writing from the y/f/n pov!

*All pic collages are made by me unless I state otherwise. Individual pictures in the collage are not mine and I give credit to where credit is due.

Chapter Eight

~y/f/n’s POV~

I opened up Yug’s profile and clicked chat.

“I can’t believe this bitch, imma kill her one day. But I’m happy, a little more happy then I thought I would be. How do I even start to message him? Why am I so nervous he’s a crackhead fetus. Ok, here we go” I thought to myself.

“Heyyy it’s y/f/nnnn” damn too many y’s

“Um hey y/f/n nuna” he replies almost instantly with a nervous emote

“Yug, sweetheart you don’t have to call me nuna, y/f/n is just fine” I respond slightly flirtily

“Oh ok...y/f/n. Um~” he responds

“Yes?” I respond already having a hopes of what he’s going to ask

“I was just wondering if you wanted to come hang out with me at the hotel? I fully understand if you don’t want to though and you would much rather stay with y/n” he sends with almost a nervous sense.

“I don’t mind as long as I’m not interrupting your rest time” I reply back just being certain

“Oh no you’re not interrupting, I invited you didn’t I?”

“True, well I guess y/n can drop me off at the hotel then. You can go ahead and send the address to her”

“Yes ma’am hahaha”. Wow this boy has no limits, this will be an interesting night. I look to y/n who is on her phone purging the bad pics and videos from the concert.

“Yo y/n, Yug said he’ll send the address of the hotel to you. You can drop me off there and go to your boo” I laughed

“Lol ok ok...Mrs. Kim” I joke

“Well said Mrs. Im” we broke out in laughter. What a circumstance we’re in. y/n starts the car and we leave heading towards the hotel. We keep ourselves occupied with small chatter back and forth when it occurred to me,

“Wait I just realized, when the boys were coming over to our side during the concert, was that because of you?” I ask

“Yup, apart from Mark, that was the first time they had ever seen me in real life. So I guess they just wanted to be idiots” y/n replies with a laugh. The drive wasn’t long, but that’s probably because we talked the whole time. We arrived at the entrance of the hotel and I texted Yugyeom that I was here.

“Ok, go ahead and head to the 7th floor. Room 723” he replied almost instantly

“Gotcha” I replied. I said goodbye to y/n and walked inside. I headed to the elevator and walked in. I hit the seventh floor button and rode my way up. I took some deep breaths going up and until I was standing in front of his room. I knocked lightly and I heard footsteps rushing towards the door. A moment later, the door opens and I’m met with Yug’s adorable face. His smile is wide and he invites me in. After closing the door, he heads into the room and awkwardly stands a bit away from me. The air is full of an awkward silence until I speak up,

“Um do you mind if I take a seat?” I ask kind of nervously

“S-sure here” he points to the bed and neatens it up before I take a seat.

“I guess that’s his bed huh” I think

“D-do you want something to drink? The boys and I went out together yesterday and I bought some drinks in case I had some time to enjoy it” he mentioned

“Oooo what kind?” I ask since I was in the mood for some drinks tonight anyways

“Some flavored soju” he says with a smile

“Perfect! Then of course! Can we also play some games too?” I ask excitedly

“Yes! I love games! What do you want to play?”

“Mmm, how about we start off with cham cham cham? Do you mind if we take a couple of shots first” I suggest excitedly.

“OK!” he jumps up and grabs the drinks from the minifridge. He grabs a couple solo cups and returns to the bed. He pours a shot's worth into both of our cups and we take the shot together. He asked me what type of drinking games Americans play and I gave him a few ideas.

“We have games like flip cup, beer pong, or even a card game like Uno” I relay

“Oh wow! Can we play one of those games?”

“We can play beer pong since we can play it with two people, but if the others get back we can play flip cup! It’s one of my favorites and super fun too!”

We continue small banter back and forth and we are a few shots in when we decide to start the game. I guess it’s because he plays this a lot more than me that Yug is really good at the game. I lose a good few times and the penalty is taking a shot or a flick on the forehead. We decided to make it more interesting and cut up slips of paper and put ‘F’ for flick and ‘S’ for shot. We grabbed an empty cup and threw the slips in it so whenever one of us loses, we shake it up, pick a slip, and do what is on it. It was my idea for this since we could easily drink all the alcohol he had.

The game continued on with shots here and flicks here. A little while later, I could tell that we were both pretty tipsy; not super drunk, but gone enough to become really comfortable with each other. It was my turn at the game to cham cham cham him and he ended up seeing past my trick and dodging the direction my hand went. Next was his, he ended up winning so I had to take my draw from the penalty cup. To my demise, I ended up picking F which caused me to hide the slip. Yugyeom caught on to my sneakiness and asked to see the slip.

“y/f/n, let me see the slip!” he says laughing

“Noooo!” I reply in a laughing

“Come oOooOOoOnnnn” he pleaded

“Nope nope nope” I replied, shaking my head. My mother always told me my stubbornness would get me into trouble. I jumped to the other bed in the room trying to avoid Yugyeom. He got up and chased me there, I dodge him and roll off the bed jumping to his. No wonder he’s the main dancer because he changes direction and heads towards his bed. He hopped on top and fought to grab the slip out of my hands. I tried my best to keep it away from him, but all things considered, let's just say I lost.

After we were done cutting up and trying to catch our breath is when I realized what position we were in. My back was against the headboard with my legs crossed while he leaned over me pinning my arms above my head with one hand. It’s when I finally opened and focused my eyes that I realized he was staring at me. His eyes looked glazed yet so dark. His nose and cheeks slightly tinted with a light shade of pink though I was unsure if it was because he’s embarrassed or because he was drunk. The contact remained persistent for only a few more seconds when he suddenly bent down and connected our lips. His lips were so soft and warm. The kiss was long and innocent and yet had me holding my breath.

He broke the kiss and had both of our lungs trying to recapture the air that wasn’t breathed in. His facial expression changed suddenly

“I-I’m so sorry y/f/n” he said with a sense of panic. I couldn’t even react properly, I just kept staring causing him to panic more. He quickly pushed off of me and scooted to the end of the bed.

“I don’t why I did that! I must have drunk too much..” he continued to panic and ramble on as I sat up.

“Yug, it’s ok, really, it was nice” I look to him trying to calm him down with a gentle smile

“I know I should’ve asked and not just done it, I-” he paused

“You- it was nice?” he asks surprised at your choice of words

“Yeah~ you did catch me by surprise, but it was a nice surprise” I said quietly

“T-then would you-” he stammered

“Yes” I answered

“You didn’t even know what I was going to ask” he laughed slightly

“Then what were you going to ask then” I say with a smirk

“W-would you want to continue?” he asks without making much eye contact. Scared that your previous answer was going to change.

“Yes Yug. I told you I knew what you were about to ask” I laughed

“Hahaha I guess you did”

“Well then, are you going to come back here” I ask

“Anything for you” he replies as he slowly crawls back to me and centers himself between my legs. He closes in again where our lips are barely inches apart, but only a second later does he close the gap between us once again. Our lips move hungrily against each other, almost like he hasn’t had a sensation like this in a while if not ever. The kiss stayed heated and I tried to reach out to touch him in any way I could, but he tightened his grip on my wrists..

“Yug, please let go of my wrists” I beg

“I don’t think I will, baby girl” he replies lowly. The effect of the new nickname did it’s job in making me know my place. I find it hard to believe that he’s younger than me and yet he is this dominant. Then again I shouldn’t be surprised that the main dancer has a different personality. That’s one thing I’ve learned from being a kpop fan for so long. You can never trust these “sexy on stage” idols; them mostly being the main dancers at that. We go back to making out when he uses his free hand to slowly lift my shirt. I froze. It wasn’t that I couldn’t sleep with him it was that I couldn’t imagine that the person I was hooking up with WAS him. I started this day off going to the concert with my best friend only to find out she’s best friend’s with the group, and is now dating the leader.

“Like damn, I really be living the “y/n” life right now” I think. Before I knew it, he somehow managed to pull my shirt over my head and now I was just sitting there in my bra and skirt. When I looked at his face, it showed no emotion, almost disappointed.

“W-what?” I ask nervously with obvious concern in my voice. I start to panic, normally I’m really bold with my foot always forward and my head high, but his gaze and just who he is...what the hell has this child done to me. I look down to see if there was something wrong and look back up when I don’t see off. When I look back into his eyes, he’s just staring at me.

“Yug...you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”

“You’re..just so…” he starts

“Yug don’t you fucking dare” I say almost angrily.

“...beautiful” he concludes. I thought he was going to say something else before I warned him, but when I looked at his eyes, all it showed was the most sincerity in the world. The black glaze from earlier was gone and his beautiful brown eyes sparkled like they just gazed upon the most beautiful picture in the world. He leaned back in starting to kiss my lips once more then making his way down to my neck and truthfully I can’t tell if there will be a mark left after this. Goosebumps start to form as he keeps moving down onto my shoulders. Light, yet warm kisses coated my skin that was left bare to the air conditioned room. He got down to my chest where he was able to unsnap my bra from the back which REALLY led me to think that he wasn’t as inexperienced as he looks. My thoughts were suddenly brought out of its state of euphoria when I heard a gasp. I snap my head up,

“Fuck...how many piercings do you have?” he questioned

“Oh sweetheart there’s more to come” I comment with a smirk

“Will I have a chance to see them?” he questioned a slight smirk and raised eyebrow

“Anything for you” I wink. What the hell is wrong with me. This isn’t like me at all! I’m never this cheesy when it comes to getting my back blown out, but I just can’t figure this kid out. One moment he looks like he could devour me whole, while the next he looks like a kid in a candy store.

“That’s all I needed to hear princess” he says with his voice almost significantly deeper than usual. He goes to suck on one of the nipples while kneading the other and the pleasure is beyond the roof. I let out a soft moan which wasn’t soft enough because his actions suddenly changed. The hand kneading the one breast made its way down my stomach and to the edge of the skirt. He pushes back,

“Now, I’m going to release your hands and I’m going to need you to take off your skirt for me. Why don’t you be a good girl and do that for me?” he says

“Ok...but” you start

“I can’t be the only one fully naked out here. At least take off your shirt” you conclude. Finally, after this whole night since the concert ended, you’re showing signs of yourself once again.

“Whatever you want sweetheart” he complied, releasing your hands. You get off the bed causing a look of confusion. You turn towards him and put your hands behind your back. You slowly start undoing the zipper at the back and you see the realization suddenly hit his eyes. He sits at the edge of the bed leaning back using his arms as support, enjoying the show that he knows is only for him. As I start shimming out of the skirt and seeing his eyes watch where my hands are, I stop.

“Why’d you stop?” he questions

“Last I checked, I said I wasn’t going to be the only one without clothing” I relay

“Sorry, just enjoying the show. I hate missing good moments of a great movie” he winked

“Well looks like you hit the rewind button” I comment pulling my skirt back up and reaching for the zipper.

“Oof you’re really going to make this a fun time huh?” he laughs

“Of course” I wink. He stands up and removes his shirt showing his pale yet fit self. You just stand there gazing as this boy built for the demigods. That’s when you truly realize that god truly picks favorites, though I know he’s worked hard for that body.

“Like what you see?” he slyly says

“Who wouldn’t” I replied without looking back up. It didn’t take you long to rid yourself of your skirt. Though he was still wearing more clothes than you were, it still felt better that he didn’t have a shirt. This wasn’t a moment of teasing during a concert where it is only a moment that a shirt gets raised, this is close to permanent and with more purging of clothing coming down the road. You both stood there just looking each other in the eyes. A deep breath held by much tension was let out and that’s when Yugyeom picked me up behind the knees and laid me down on the bed.

It wasn’t a foreign fact that his hard on was rubbing against my clothed core. He knew exactly what he was doing, he grinded harder and I let out a subtle moan. He dragged one of his hands down my sides and past my underwear. He rubbed my clit in circular motions with just the right amount of pressure. His index finger slid down my slit, teasing my opening

“Fuck Yug, please” I begged.

“Damn you’re so wet” he seeths. Luckily he wasn’t fully ignoring my pleas. He slipped his finger in and slowly started pumping. The moans that left me could not be described with words. He easily found the one spot that could ruin me and made sure to hit it. Suddenly, he slides in a second finger. I let out a louder moan than before and continued to receive the pleasure he had been giving. He pumped harder and rubbed my clit faster and the tension in my stomach kept building,

“Fuck I’m close daddy” I moaned out. My eyes shot open in realization of the word that just left my mouth

“What did you just say?” he says in a low voice

“N-nothing” I squeaked out avoiding eye contact with him

“Say..It” he growled in what I would’ve thought a demon would sound like.

“D-daddy” he said quietly

“Louder” he commanded

“Daddy” I muttered slightly louder and more boldly. This I knew about myself; this daddy kink has always been a thing about me, but I have never uttered that word from just finger play and even someone younger than me.

“Now what would you like daddy to do? Hm?”

“Please, I’m so close”

“As you wish sweetheart” he replies. He throttles the two fingers back into my warmth and curves his fingers up; with his thumb back on my clit. Knowing exactly where to hit, I let out a loud moan. My respirations grew deeper and faster as he kept pumping. The tension built more and more until I couldn’t bare it anymore.

“Fuck fuck fuck” I moan out. My body erupts in spasms almost immediately and it takes a minute for me to calm back down. My breaths slow as I catch my breath and realize how this might look. I couldn’t think of how I might look and I shield my face.

“Why are you covering your face?” Yugyeom lightly chuckles

“I probably look a mess right now” I reply back

“y/f/n, you look beautiful” he compliments removing my hands from my face. He lays down beside me, almost exhausted himself.

“Why are you the one that’s tired? You weren’t the one that just got finger fucked” I laugh

“Seeing you like this, truthfully takes my breath away...and you forget that we just performed a two and a half hour concert” he replies back jokingly

“Wow ok cringe, and that makes sense” I reply back. I lay to my side and he pulled me into his chest.

“Don’t you want a turn?” I ask after a moment of silence

“Nah I’m fine. Let’s just lay here” he says soothingly. Now, I know better and though I’m sensitive and truthfully tired, he seems to have unfinished business that is screaming to be dealt with. I slowly start moving my butt against him trying to gain a reaction from him. He slightly growls,

“W-what are you doing?” he asks nervously

“You seem to have some unfinished business and I just wanted to solve it for you” I replied. I started moving faster as I feel him growing harder and...bigger?

“Y-y/f/n” he moans out

“Now tell me what you want baby boy?” I reply back slightly

“P-please…” he sputtered

“Please what? Use your words” I state. I was happy that I was finally getting back to my regular self.

“Please, I need you” was all I needed. I turned to face him and pulled my arm down to his crotch. My hand grabbed his covered member and started slowly massaging it. He let out a small moan, but tried to keep it suppressed. I was determined now to make him moan louder. I put my hand in his sweats and realized

“No underwear?”

“Well they tend to be a little constricting so I choose not to wear them when I don’t have to” he mumbles out. I nod understanding his position. Hell, I understand because I hate wearing a lot of clothes when I’m at home. I grab his member and start pumping slowly. His breaths were getting deep so I decided to switch my tactic. I turned him on his back and got between his legs. I grabbed his waistband of his light gray sweatpants and slowly started inching them down. Throughout this whole process, my eye contact never left his. His stare was so innocent and his face was obviously getting red. I locked my eyes back on his pants once they were pulled far enough. His hard member shot up finally being set free from the constraints of the waistband.

He was a decent size, not super big but not small either. It stood boldly and was already slightly oozing with precum. I knew better than to gawk because he might take the opportunity to take control back and I sure in hell wasn’t going to let that happen again. I pumped him more and lowered my mouth to it. I start to bob my head up and down at a steady pace. A string of curse words made their way out of his mouth along with some moans as well. I kept bobbing and stroking his member for a little while longer until I felt him jerk his hips up. I hold them down preventing him from bucking them up again. I do help further the pleasure by hitting the back of my throat a little more often than before. He tried grabbing my hair and I decided to hold down his arms. That proved to be pointless since he was a lot stronger than me.

I released his member from my mouth and he snapped his head up.

“Why did you stop?” he wined

“I can’t have you grabbing my hair now can I?” I comment

“S-sorry” he apologizes

“No~ that won’t work now will it” I smirk. I got off the bed and looked around for a second until I found what I was looking for. I went to his luggage, opened it, and started looking through it.

“What are you doing?” Yugyeom questioned

“Just looking for something...found it!” I exclaim. I turn around and hold up two belts with a smirk on my face.

“W-what are you going to do with those?” he shockingly asks with wide eyes

“This will keep those lovely hands of yours to yourself” I reply

“Fuck, this is going to drive me insane not being able to touch you” he sighs

“Mmmm, I’m going to enjoy this” I say as I get back on the bed and straddle him. Luckily, and unusually, the hotel beds here came with a “usable” bed frame. I grabbed one of his arms and pulled it back. I tied one belt around his wrist then around the bed post frame. I grabbed the other arm and did the same. This is one thing I can say I’m good at, though I don’t think girl scouts taught us tying skills to be used for this reason. After making sure the belts were nice and tight, I went back to being stationed between his legs. I place my mouth back on his stiff member and my hand at his base helping me pump as I suck. He moans more than before and I guess it’s because of being restrained that causes it.

“Fuck I’m so close, keep going, I’m so fucking close” he moans out. I picked up my pace to get him to reach his climax. Only a few seconds later do I feel his hips bucking up, hot liquid shoot to the back of my throat along with a string of curses. I milk him for all he’s worth taking my time to look at his face curling in pleasure. I release him and crawl my way up to his face. He opened his eyes and we made eye contact. I swallowed the liquid and used my finger to swipe my bottom lip showing that I would leave nothing of his wasted.

“Fuck...I can’t….fuck” he mumbles. I smirk as I scooted to get off of him, fully satisfied by my accomplishment. That was short lived when I realized that his member was still slightly erect.

“I see that someone isn’t satisfied quite yet” I laugh

“What can I say, you have me horny as fuck” he replies with a sigh

“Well we can’t have that, now can we” I smirk. I get off the bed and remove my underwear that proves to be pointless at this point. I get back on top of him and center myself above his member. As I began to lower myself down, he stopped me

“Wait I think there’s a condom in my bag” he states

“Don’t worry, I’m on birth control” I state. With a breath, I slowly let myself down onto his member. We both let out moans of pleasure as I was being filled and he was being enveloped around my walls.

“Fuck, y/f/n, you’re so tight. god you feel incredible” he moans out

“Yug you feel so good, fuck” I moan out as well. I give myself a little time to adjust from being stretched out so suddenly. Once I felt settled I started moving slowly. More strings of moans were let out by the both of us. Yug tried to reach out, but groaned out of anger forgetting he was restrained.

“Damn, y/f/n let me out of these. They’re driving me insane” he uttered angrily

“Hmm we’ll see, I quite enjoy this” I laughed. To increase the torture I decided to pause for a moment.

“Why did you stop?” he growled. I said nothing and just looked him in the eye. I put my hands on my boobs and slowly started massaging them. I slowly started moving my hips back and forth trying to stimulate myself as much as possible. I threw my head back in pleasure that I was inducing myself. Yug was struggling to rid his arms of the restraints,

“Shit, take these things off of me. I can’t stand it, FUCK I can’t touch you” he angrily says. Seeing him struggle and beg just turns me on even more. I think it’s because of how much he exudes big dick energy, that seeing how he looks so vulnerable had me at my wits end.

“Fuck, please!” he begs

“Damn, ok. I bet your arms are tired” I slightly give in. I lift up off him and go to untie his hands. As I release the second arm, I realize my mistake; maybe I riled him up a little too much. He suddenly pulled me on the bed and flipped me over with my arms yet again trappe above my head. My eyes were wide and my heart racing fast,

“Sweetheart, you made daddy very mad by all the teasing” he commented with his eyes covered by his bangs. Damn he looks hot.

“Oh did I?” I say with an innocent look

“Don’t play innocent sweetheart, you knew exactly what you were doing and now you’re going to pay for it” he says with a growl. He grabs my arms and one of the belts and ties them up. Well played Yug, well played. He leans over me and without warning, shoves his member into me.

“FUCK, SHIT!!” I scream out. He thrusts at a sporadic pace that drove me crazy. I knew this was payback and I greatly regretted torturing him earlier. He was missing my g-spot intentionally every now and then and it was driving me up the wall. He reached his hands up to my boobs and started massaging them while he started grinding at a slower pace. I moaned out in pleasure and I could see a smirk form on his face

“Damn, do you feel that good?” he cocks. Nothing but a string of moans leave my mouth as a response.

“So how does my princess want me to continue?” he asks continually grinding into me

“Please...harder...harder” I reply

“Harder what beautiful?”

“Please harder daddy”

“As you wish my queen” he replies. Damn that new name change just increased this ecstasy. He did as he was told and went harder.

“Fuck I’m so close Yug” I moan out

“Me...too” he moaned out a reply. He slowly slid his hand up around my throat and slightly squeezed unexpectedly which caught me by surprise. My eyes crept open making direct eye contact with him

“Yug…” I squeak. His eyes are dark and lustful, but it was almost like he was broken out of a trance, he snatched his hand away and halted his movements altogether.

“y/f/n, I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I...I..” he panicked

“Yug, it’s ok. Shit it was hot please keep going I’m so close” I assure him

“A-are you sure?” he looks with such innocent eyes

“Yug I swear If you don’t finish what we started I will end you” I threaten

“Alright alright” he says as he leans back down to kiss my lips. He started to pound into me quickly and without warning or hesitation again . He returned his hand back to my throat and after the two words of “I’m close” slipped my lips, he started to squeeze harder. I could tell he was reaching his climax due to his movements getting sloppy and the rhythm being less consistent. Deep moans rung throughout the room as we both hit our climaxes. The constriction around my neck really made it all the more euphoric. He thrusted his hips a few more times helping me ride out my high. After a few deep breaths were given out before Yugyeom collapsed beside me.

“Oh my god…” he says still trying to regain the lost air

“...that was amazing,” I finished. We turned to look at each other and he leaned down giving a long kiss to my sweaty forehead. He pulls me into his chest and I feel my eyes getting heavy.

“You getting sleepy?” Yugyeom softly speaks up

“Mmm” was all I could respond

“Do you want to get cleaned up a little first?” he suggests

“I know I should, but I’m so lazy now” I whine in almost a sleep type manner

“Here let me help you” he responds. I feel the dip in the bed disappear and I force my eyes slightly open. Before my brain could comprehend what was going on, I felt my body being lifted off the bed.

“What are you doing?!” I exclaim in a slight chuckle

“We both need to freshen up anyways and…” he draws out

“And what?” I look at him in confusion

“Well, I don’t think Mark hyung would be appreciative of us stinking up the place” he laughs

“True he would probably stop rooming with you during tours” I laugh as we proceed to the bathroom.

“I can’t have that!! I get really lonely during tours and no one else wants to share a room but he’s the only one that doesn’t mind” he fake cries. (V Live, 05122018; http://kpopherald.koreaherald.com/view.php?ud=201805131852414957228_2)

“You cry baby” I laugh while lightly hitting him on his shoulder

“Do you mind putting me down? You’ve been standing in the bathroom, holding me in this bridal style for the past 10 minutes” I continue

“Nope, this is nice” he grins, but puts me down into the already filling bathtub...wait...when did he even do this? Oh well nevermind. I see him grab some soap he brought from the sink and pour it into the bathtub. I’m surprised, and also not, that this man would enjoy bubble baths, but I can’t complain, who doesn’t like bubble baths. After pouring a decent amount in, he hops in and sits behind me. We sit in the quietness of the bathroom with the warmth of the water and our bodies keeping us comfortable. We continued small banter back and forth until we decided that it was time for us to get out and dry ourselves off.

Yugyeom told me to wait as he ran into the room and came back with one of his shirts for me to wear. I threw it on as he put on his own clothes as well. We went back in the room and Yugyeom jumped in the bed while I headed to the window.

“What are you doing?” Yugyeom looks over to ask

“Opening the window, this place might need a little airing out. Let’s spare Mark the details” I laugh

“Makes sense, but sometimes I like to bully hyung. I’ll refrain this one time though” he laughs. I laugh along as I return to the bed after opening the window. Luckily, it was a cool night so leaving the window open wouldn’t be too much trouble. We cuddled together and I could feel some heavy breathing from behind me. I turn around, and smile slightly to see he’s fast asleep. He looks so precious and cute it’s crazy to think that this same boy was the same one who went crazy down on me earlier. I turn back around to have my back against his chest when I hear my phone go off. I reach and answer it,

“Bbbiiittcchhh you done getting your back blown out?!” I hear y/n scream through the phone

“y/n you drunk?” I ask laughingly

“Well of course! Now ANSWER MY QUESTION!” y/n sasses

“Yes we’re done lol. I was just about to fall asleep when you called. Now I’m pretty sure you’re too drunk to drive back to my place so you spending the night with your new boo?” I ask slightly groggily

“Good! I made sure the dinner lasted a little while longer, so you’re welcome. And yes! They’re letting me head to JB’s room first to avoid any suspicion and he would follow me in later” y/n rambles on

“That’s nice, well a bitch is getting tired so imma have to talk to you later”

“OKIE DOKIE GOOD NIGHT!!!” y/n replies and hangs up the phone. I place my phone back on the nightstand and cuddle back into Yug before drifting off to sleep.

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#kpop smut #kpop fluff #got7 mark #got7 yugyeom #got7 jaebum #got7 jackson #got7 bambam #got7 youngjae #got7 jinyoung #idol au

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softjeon · 5 years

Text

Kiss me quietly | Final

• Pairing: BadBoy!Yoongi x Shy!Jungkook • Genre: Fluff | College!AU • Words: 9,2k | AO3 • Disclaimer: mentioning of alcohol, selective mutism, tooth rotting fluff

written with @cassiavioletblue

↳ Yoongi always said what was on his mind, while Jungkook was shy, fearful and just like a wallflower he was quickly overseen. Yoongi wore leather jackets, had tattoos while Jungkook wore soft, baby blue sweaters with sleeves that were way too long. Yoongi was everything he wasn’t. Not that he cared, but men like Yoongi didn’t care about boys like Jungkook. That’s just how it always been like until…

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“Yoongi, hey!” Hoseok furrowed his brows, nudging Yoongi’s side repeatedly, “Where’s your head?” He chuckled low, when Yoongi finally snapped out of his daydream (he wondered what it was about; Yoongi rarely daydreamed about anything. He was either sleepy or fully awake, nothing in between) and refocused on the program in front of him. “Can I have your attention now again? Good. I worked on this all week it’s for the music producing class exam. I need to know your opinion it feels like it’s still lacking something,” Hoseok explained, when he clicked on his file and opened it.

Turning a little, he reached for the headphones giving one pair over to Yoongi and taking the other. Yoongi complied easily. After he had fled their lunch last time because of Jungkook’s ability to light him on fire just by simply eating ice cream he felt like he owed it to both of them to be a little more approachable. That and the fact that he loved working with Hobi on his tracks made him reach out for the headphones immediately, putting them on without asking any further. He would best get a feel for the tape if he listened to it anyway.

“I rearranged a lot of things from last time, changed some lyrics and I added some vocals over mine. I don’t think my voice fits there, actually so, I’m only doing back vocals and fitted in a new main vocal.” He said and showed off the line of new audios he had recorded. There was almost no interruption in between the file, meaning whoever had recorded it had nailed the whole refrain in one-go and Hoseok didn’t need to arrange different versions of it into one. “But just listen and then tell me okay?”

Hoseok started the track and Yoongi listened in concentration, eyes closed, and brows furrowed. The track was good, pulling you in right away with music that was layered enough to be interesting and get your attention without overwhelming the listener. He waited for the lyrics to come and when a voice started singing his eyes snapped open. He hadn’t thought much about it when Hobi had mentioned that he let someone else sing the main vocals, thinking that he had chosen someone with a usual vibe. Instead it sounded like there was a literal angel singing on Hobi’s track, his voice clear and soft and full of unspoken promises. It had Yoongi shivering from the sudden and unexpected emotions that the sweet voice evoked. He took off one side of the headphones, holding it a little away from his ear (just one because he didn’t want to miss anything from the song) and asked immediately, “Who is this? It sounds amazing!”

Hoseok smiled, bopping his head to the rhythm but didn't answer his question, yet, not wanting to disturb the song. He grinned widely, letting Yoongi listen to the rest before asking, “And? What did you think about the arrangement? Lyrics? It's better than the first version, right?“ Hoseok was really bad at hiding his excitement, shifting nervously on his seat. “He's good right?“ Hoseok finally addressed the vocals, “Unfortunately you can't steal him from me. I promised him not to tell others, as he wants to keep himself hidden.”

“It’s way better! Whoever it is you caught there don’t let him go! He has an amazing range and his vocals are soft but not weak. His voice is sweet but powerful and I bet you could use him for a lot of songs. How did you find him?” When Hoseok showed him with a gesture that his lips were sealed and that he wouldn’t reveal anything about that mysterious singer Yoongi pouted a little but then accepted it. If Hoseok didn’t even give in when he acted cute (a very rare occasion) then he must really want to respect that person’s wish.

So, he didn’t push any further.

“He’ll be at Namjoon’s birthday this weekend, maybe you’ll find out who it is when you hear their voice.” Hoseok chuckled low and then got out a notebook to open it to a page, where it clearly showed the lyrics of the song Yoongi just had heard. It was written in two different handwritings. When Yoongi raised his eyebrow in surprise at the clean handwriting, next to Hoseok’s messy one, he quickly explained: “Oh, Jungkookie helped me with it a little. That boy is so talented, you won’t believe it. Anyways…, I need help with the rap part,” He pointed at a line, “I don’t feel this is fluid enough.”

Yoongi scooted closer, leaning forward to see the writing better. “I’ll help you - and I’d even let you take a sneak peek into my own lyrics notebook - if you push me a little into the right direction in case I’d miss that angel person. You don’t have to break your promise and tell me who it is, just.. give me a little nudge if I don’t find him, alright? I’d really love to work with him for one or two of my songs as well, I bet his voice sounds amazing in contrast with a heavy beat - or with a slow, emotional song. Damn, don’t even know who he is and I’m already excited about him. He better not be an asshole, that would be so disappointing. So... what do you say?” If he had to bribe and blackmail Hoseok to get what he wanted he would because he knew that Hobi would never do anything that he didn’t want he had principles and would defend them screaming if he had to.

“Says asshole no°1 here,” Hoseok laughed, shaking his head, “I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t promise he will sing for you. It was hard enough already to get him for my song. And maybe, he doesn’t like you – who knows.” He shrugged his shoulders, getting more comfortable in his seat, “Now be a good boy for once and help me.”

“Yeah sure, you just insulted me and now you want me to help you. You can be glad you own such a nice studio and are a decent cook. Though if Jin’s joked weren’t that bad he would beat you as a friend - because his cooking is way better.” Yoongi took the notebook to take a closer look and made a noise of surprise when he saw how much of the lyrics was in Jungkook’s neat handwriting - and how good they were. “Damn, Jungkook really knows how to write. I didn’t even knew he was interested in music. Not that he’s talking to me at all but... I guess that’s normal with him.” He awkwardly eyed Hoseok from the side to see if the other would comment on that.

Hoseok pulled one leg up on his chair, humming in response, “Yeah, but he’s an amazing writer and he’s a dance major, of course he likes music. His body reacts to every beat, every vibration, forming it into the most beautiful art. It’s honestly amazing. He’s got a poetic side in him, just like you.” He grinned, patting Yoongi’s shoulder as he sighed softly. Hoseok had always admired Yoongi’s creative mind, so therefore he was glad he could call him his friend and learn from him at the same time.

“Well the only things I got so see of him were his wide eyes, a fearful expression and his cute smile. So yeah he might be a cutie but apart from that I have no idea if what you’re telling me is true. I’d say doubtable until proven.” Yoongi hoped that Hobi wouldn’t see through his attempt at getting him to show him a vid of Jungkook’s abilities. Hobi always recorded his dance practices or musical WIPs.

Shaking his head, Hoseok’s voice turned a little softer, “Cute? Yoongi…whatever you’re thinking now…don’t.” Hoseok knew Yoongi inside and out, he knew his expressions, the way he raised his eyebrows when he was interested, the smirk that lured boys in. But not his sweet Jungkookie. He looked at his friend with an insistent gaze, “I know you. Keep your hands to yourself. Anyone really, but not him.”

Yoongi had known that this would come up sooner or later and still his pride had him acting offended. “Why? Maybe it would be good for him to get a little out of his shell. He’s really shy, isn’t he? Also don’t act like you’ve never hooked up with someone for the fun of it. We’re young, having sex without any obligations shouldn’t be stigmatized like that especially not by you who practically cuddles with everyone when he’s drunk.” Just that Hoseok stopped at cuddling while Yoongi went all the way instead. “Also, he’s a grown-up he can decide for himself! I mean - he must be or else he wouldn’t study here. He can’t be underage - right?”

Hoseok immediately shook his head, waving his hands around, “That’s exactly why. For the fun of it. Jungkook,… he isn’t like that and you shouldn’t use it as a reason to make him more confident only to crush him and ignore his calls only days later like you do with literally everyone else.” He leaned in a little, making it clear that he wasn’t joking around right now, “He is a grown-up, but I can’t stand to see him hurt. If anyone hurt him, I’ll break their bones….twice.” With a satisfied smile, Hoseok leaned against his chair again, “Jungkook is different. You can fuck anyone you like, but not him. You won’t ruin him and break his heart just because you liked his smile.”

Yoongi opened his mouth to protest but then closed him again without saying a word. Hoseok did have a point. Kind of. Though it wasn’t like he did it on purpose. Other people had different partners as well and you had use the trial and error method how else were you supposed to find out who would stay in your heart forever and who was only in there for a night? Yes, he might have a pretty high “error rate” but it wasn’t his fault that he wasn’t the most patient guy and wasn’t it better to end things quickly to be free for something new? He was only fair, being honest and telling his partners the truth instead of keeping them around and keeping them from possibly meeting the love of their lives. Instead he was told he was an asshole and told by his friend to stay away from the mute cutie that he’d loved to get to know better.

“You’ll be fine. You got enough other people interested in you,” Hoseok smiled faintly, before pointing at his song again, “Shall we?”

…

The sun was shining so bright that Jungkook had to squeeze his eyes so hard to be able to see. There were people running past him, as he sat by the side of the running track, a stopwatch in his hand. Biting his lip in concentration, his gaze was fixated on one runner only as he came closer and closer to the finish line. The moment he crossed the white paint, Jungkook pushed his finger down, holding the watch up with a bright grin. “And?” Wonho was panting, sweat dripping down his body, making his pale skin glisten under the sunlight. He took the stopwatch and groaned, “Hm, I can be better than this.” As a form of self-punishment Wonho dropped down a few feet away from Jungkook and began to do some pushups, counting loudly.

Jungkook only shook his head.

He knew Wonho for so long now. He’d been a neighbor of his when they were little and now they were studying at the same uni, only that Wonho chose sport and languages, while Jungkook studied art and dance. And since then, Jungkook was bad at saying ‘no’ and never liked to keep his friends hanging so he had been officially recruited to stop Wonho’s time while he was training for an exam. While Wonho was busy stretching now, Jungkook returned his attention to his papers. He needed to study, too.

…

Yoongi had sneaked out to the sports area behind campus because no one noticed him there and it was a nice place to smoke. People went training on their own and had their headphones on so no one tried talking or sometimes the running place was even empty so Yoongi could sit on the spectator stand and enjoy his cigarette in peace. Not today though. When he looked up there was already someone sitting there. Jungkook. Even though the weather was sunny he still wore a long sleeved shirt made out of thin material that didn’t had him overheating but was long enough for him to hide his hands the way he liked it. Yoongi wondered why he did it, if it was a safety thing or if he was actually hiding something. He swallowed harshly. Then his thoughts suddenly took an 180° turn when some sporty, bulky and sweaty guy who just finished some pushups went up the stairs to sit beside Jungkook. Instead of acting like a startled deer like Yoongi had expected Jungkook just made him some room and then went back to reading his papers. Yoongi stood and stared, not sure why that sight startled him so much.

Jungkook didn’t look up from his papers, when Wonho sat down next to him. They were just sitting in silence until…

“Gosh, it’s so fucking hot,” The bulky man grabbed the hem of his shirt swiftly pulling it over his head and making heads turn right away, except for Jungkooks. He never had been interested in Wonho and neither the other way around. “You need some help there?” Wonho nudged Jungkook’s side, taking one of his papers, where notes were scribbled all over, holding it up in the air. Jungkook sighed, rolling his eyes as he tried to grab it but Wonho only held it back further. “Just give it back. I really need to study, and I did what you asked of me…” Jungkook whispered, reaching for it.

The guy stripped right next to Kook like it was nothing and Yoongi angrily smashed his cigarette. There he was, playing all nice and holding himself back like Hoseok had asked him to, just for some guy to take his place and flirt with the sweet boy half naked on the campus ground.

Before he could think about it Yoongi was up the stairs and standing right in front of the two. It looked as if the sports guy was stealing Jungkook’ stuff and Yoongi was not having it! “Give him back his stuff - now!” He growled at him, no warning, no hello, no nothing. He just wanted that guy away from Kook.

Jungkook jerked around, his eyes wide and the smile wiped off his face and was replaced by sheer surprise and then he froze completely. His mouth stood open, his heart racing while he tried to comprehend what just happened. Where did Yoongi come from? Why was he mad? It didn’t make any sense to Jungkook.

“You know this one?” Wonho turned to look at the younger, not even sparing Yoongi a glance. The shy boy nodded softly, but it still wasn’t enough and Wonho got up and crack his neck just to show that he wouldn’t hesitate. Jungkook’s eyes flickered over to Wonho, then to Yoongi, feeling as if he was about to faint. “How about you just piss off again…we don’t need your bad attitude around here.” He said and took a step closer, “Jungkook is fine as you can see. Don’t see why it would be your business, anyways.”

“You haven’t seen my bad attitude yet, but you will if you don’t give him his stuff back…And it is my business cause I don’t like it when jocks like you pick on younger students. If you want to cause trouble then take someone of your own caliber you coward.”

Jungkook was completely dumbfounded. He couldn’t stand this. Couldn’t listen to whatever these two were talking about because Jungkook wasn’t even sure what this was really about. Either way he didn’t like it. Yoongi had no right to come at them like this, to pretend as if he knew Jungkook. Not at Wonho who had just been teasing him a little. Jungkook was used to it.

“My caliber? Well, I don’t see anyone around, or do you want to try?” Wonho pushed against Yoongi’s chest, chuckling low but the moment he opened his mouth again to say something, he was interrupted by Jungkook who forcefully pushed all of his books back in his bag. Jungkook was biting his tongue, before he shouldered the bag and squeezed himself right through them both and tearing them apart in the process, before simply walking ahead. Wonho still had Jungkook’s papers in hand but his expression changed as he looked after the younger.

Jungkook didn’t look as if he was glad that Yoongi was helping him, quite the opposite, he looked more uncomfortable than before. And while Yoongi had thought in the beginning that it was just Jungkook hating that someone witnessed that he was being bullied or that his shyness made him crack under the pressure of this kind of attention now he felt that something was wrong. Jungkook had looked close to tears when he had ran off, not caring a bit for the papers that the other was still holding. Normally someone pushing him would have resulted in a broken jaw or at least a few punches but it was Jungkook he was worried about and not his hurt pride right now. He ripped the papers from the guys hand, glad that he let go of them immediately and didn’t rip them and then gave him a warning growl. “Don’t bother him again or you’ll wish that you left him in peace while it was still your decision to make.”

Jungkook was walking fast, trying to calm the storm of feelings inside of him. He wasn’t sure why he had run, instead of facing Yoongi and just telling him off (although he was sure he couldn’t have done that anyway, even if he was able to speak in front of him) or take Wonho and pull him somewhere else so Yoongi realized that it was fine. He was fine. He didn’t need protection or whatever Yoongi had tried to do. Why did he? It made no fucking sense to Jungkook. They weren’t friends. So why? His heart ached when he remembered how Hoseok had told him once that Yoongi liked to get into trouble, that he couldn’t control his emotions very well when they were all having dinner. He had listened carefully, glad that Jimin had been so worried to ask if Yoongi was alright. Apparently he had seen Yoongi with bruises and cuts on his hands and face in the library and wondered what happened. Yoongi hadn’t told him and only shrugged it off, so Jimin had turned to Hoseok. But why here? Why now? Jungkook still had no answer when he arrived at his bike, fishing out his keys to unlock it and pull it out of the stand a little too aggressive.

Luckily Jungkook wasn’t hard to find because although he had run off as if he wanted to get away from them as fast as possible he came to a halt in front of the bike stand. It gave Yoongi time to observe him and it made his heart feel heavy: There was a frown on Jungkook’s face, his head held low as if he wanted to hide from everything and if the way he ripped the bike from the stand was anything to go by then he was really angry. It must be hard not being able to voice his anger.

Yoongi waited for Jungkook to finish arranging his bike to address him but Jungkook saw him first and it went like a knife through Yoongi’s heart because the second Jungkook got aware of him his shoulders went up and he curled his body away from him as if he was trying to get away. Jungkook startled, eyes wide and when his gaze fell onto him, he let them fall, his expression turning softer. Why did you do this? He wanted to ask, but his heart was beating loudly, making the blood rush through his veins so fast that he felt dizzy - no word coming from him.

Yoongi swallowed hard and then held out the papers carefully, toning down his voice to not agitate the younger further. “Hey. I... I guess you need those.” Jungkook didn’t even look at him. “Are you alright?” He wished Jungkook could just tell him how he was, more detailed than with a head shake or a nod.

“You... didn’t really like that, hu?” Sheepishly he rubbed his neck, wishing he could go back just to approach things differently. “I’m sorry, I... I guess I went a bit overboard. It just made me so angry that this guy was bullying you. You are such a sweet person; I don’t understand how someone can be cruel enough to treat you badly. I... I know there would have been a way to solve this differently - and I guess I should have asked first if you even wanted my help but... I kind of got a little overprotective. And maybe also a little jealous that he can just walk over to you like that while I can’t - and then seeing him use that chance to hurt you... I just snapped. I’m really sorry. Do you want me to tell Hobi? I can understand if you don’t want me handling this any further but Kook, please tell us if someone is bullying you. You shouldn’t just take it. I don’t want you to get hurt, okay?” His smile was a little sad when he spoke again, even more quietly this time, words slipping from him without his permission, “It’s shitty being like this, isn’t it? I’m ‘too much’ all the time and people hate me for it while you have probably been called ‘too soft’ a few times and people think of you as easy prey. It shouldn’t be like this. But it is how it is, right and we just have to handle it. We’re like the perfect opposites, you and I.” He laughed humorlessly, “Hell, we probably could balance each other out - or go down in flames. I see why Hobi doesn’t want me to be with you. And yet... here I am, stupid enough to consider it nonetheless even though Hobi is one of my oldest friends and everything I managed to do to you so far is get you in more trouble. I’m sorry, I’ll leave you alone now.” It was so easy to spill his heart to Kook, scaringly easy. He needed to be more careful.

Jungkook felt like he was daydreaming, for a moment, he was sure that he would wake up any second now and then Jimin would tell him he was late for his class. Did Yoongi just confessed to him? Tell him that he liked him, even though he was...practically mute because he was crushing on Yoongi so hard that it made him speechless. He blushed furiously, pretty sure that he would go up in flames any second now. Yoongi cared about him. Him, the wallflower.

He wanted to say something, wanted to tell him that it was alright, that he liked Yoongi too but just the thought of it made him shut again. His heart went into overdrive. The longer he stayed quiet, the more Yoongi was talking and it was so utterly cute that it brought a smile on his face, one that he tried to push down again, biting onto his lip. When Yoongi turned away from though, Jungkook reacted on instinct, reaching out for Yoongi so fast that he almost dropped his bike in the process. Shaking his head, Jungkook told Yoongi wordlessly that he was okay. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Nervously he pulled at Yoongis shirt, pointing at his pants where he could see his phone sticking out.

“What, you want my phone as payment for the mess I made?” Joking was his defense mode (or sarcasm) and right now his stomach was making summersaults. Jungkook was so close that he could count the younger’s eyelashes and as his hands had come up in reflex when Jungkook stumbled into him (almost taking his bike with him) now they stood in some kind of half embrace, Yoongi holding Kook’s arms while the younger looked at him with his pretty, wide eyes. “Take what you want, Kookie. I guess I kind of owe you. Twice now. For ruining your day not one but two times so far. I’m not doing it on purpose, I swear.”

Jungkook giggled softly, shaking his head again before slowly reaching out for Yoongi’s phone. It was easier to touch Yoongi than he remembered. Unlocking the screen, Jungkook opened the notes app and started typing. He knew there was no way he could get out any words. He’d probably stumble over his own sentences, making a mess and then Yoongi would think the worst of him. And he liked this. Yoongi didn’t seem to mind that he wasn’t talking. Sticking out his tongue in concentration, Jungkook tried to be quick before handing Yoongi the phone with a smile. While the other looked down and started reading, the younger quickly sat on his bike and drove off. The blush still burning on his cheeks.

[He’s my friend, he didn’t bully me. I don’t like it when others talk for me, I’m sorry. I think you do owe me something now. Maybe a coffee? You’re cute.]

Curiously Yoongi read through the notes on his phone, his eyes widening when he realized his mistake. Jungkook and that guy were friends! He hadn’t stopped Jungkook from being bullied he had made a great big mess out of a little teasing between friends. No wonder Jungkook had looked so distraught. That meant he would have to apologize to that guy next time he saw him. Yoongi groaned internally. He hated apologizing. Really, really hated it. ”H...hey!” He was calling after Kook who was sneakily running away on wheels, “How am I supposed to ask you out for coffee if I don’t even have your number!” Also, he wasn’t cute!

Kittens were cute or puppies or Jungkook but definitely not him. He could feel his cheeks heating up against his will.

God, he was so gone for that boy!

…

Another weekend, another party, only this time it was Namjoon’s birthday and Jungkook had no valid reason to stay home. He liked him, he was (finally) Jimin’s boyfriend now and therefore the three of them (including Taehyung) were invited as well. They had grown into a group of friends quickly over the past couple of months and Jungkook really liked it. He always felt more comfortable with close friends around. It made it easier, than being alone.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, Jungkook sighed. He had fled a little from the crowded rooms. Jungkook was pretty sure Jimin was gone with Namjoon to give him his “special present”. He had worked on a lap dance all week, making Jungkook stumble into some weird scenes whenever he came home, finding Jimin upside down over Taehyung’s lap while he tried to twerk with the other yelling at him that he wasn’t rubbing enough onto his dick. It was disturbing in a way and still he had laughed.

But no matter how loud the music was, his thoughts were still louder. Jungkook couldn’t stop thinking about Yoongi and what he had said. He had explained to Wonho over phone that Yoongi had some anger issues sometimes and that he didn’t know they were friends. Luckily for him, he bought it and wasn’t mad at him, nor Yoongi (if he wouldn’t come at him again). Jungkook didn’t know that for sure though. As much as he crushed on Yoongi in silence, Jungkook didn’t know much about him but the obvious: he was handsome, very much so and studied music and producing. He was friends with Hoseok, liked to drink, get into trouble and wear his leather jacket no matter the weather. He loved thriller movies and didn’t care about shutting people out in a matter of seconds. Jungkook had seen it at a party once, when he had been still nothing but a shadow to him. But now…Yoongi saw him. He wasn’t invisible anymore and he had told him that he liked him….in a way. Maybe just as friends? He’d be fine with that too and maybe eventually he could say something if this stupid crush ebbed down. But it didn’t, it only grew.

Jungkook wanted to ask Hoseok about what he had said to him. But he wasn’t brave enough. Hoseok would only need to look at him once to see that he was interested. So, he rather hid from everyone, pouring in a little more bowl and sipping on it quietly.

“Oh, there you are! I wondered if you had gone home already.” Yoongi had come to the party totally excited. Hoseok had told him that the boy with the angelic voice would be there and so he should go looking for him and he wanted too, he really did - but somehow his mind directed him back to Jungkook every time. And honestly who knew who this singer guy even was, maybe it would be awkward, or he was a stuck up idiot. There must be a reason why he didn’t want people to know that he was helping Hoseok, maybe he was totally strange. With Jungkook however he knew the evening would be nice. You couldn’t be with Jungkook and not feel good, that just wasn’t possible. So, he pretended as if he hadn’t been looking for him everywhere and casually leaned against the counter as well. “Are you enjoying the party?”

Jungkook almost choked on his drink, when Yoongi came in so suddenly. He hadn’t seen the other, yet and he wasn’t prepared.

He was never prepared!

Smiling awkwardly, Jungkook put his drink down and moved aside, leaving Yoongi to room to get himself either some of the beer or the bowl. He shrugged his shoulders as an answer, averting his gaze shyly. Here we go again, Jungkook thought to himself, feeling the heat crawl back into his cheeks and dusting it in a rose color when Yoongi moved closer.

Yoongi took some of the bowl and then took a sip, face turning into a grimace. “Ugh, that’s... disgusting actually. How can you drink that? I actually don’t want to kiss anyone from that party now in fear of them tasting like this!” He shuddered a little before he realized that Jungkook was drinking the same thing. “Oops.” He shrugged his shoulders and gestured to Jungkook's cup, “Guess I should take that back then.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. Did he mean that like Jungkook thought he mean it? Yoongi wanted to kiss him? Even though he was drinking this disgusting bowl. He was freaking out inwardly. All color faded from his face and he hastily gulped down the whole drink in one go to not look at Yoongi further, while simultaneously thinking of a way to get out and get some air into his lungs because he felt like he was suffocating right now. In a good way. But also: did Yoongi just say that he would kiss him?

Yoongi laughed as Jungkook down his bowl in one go. “Was this a ‘hell no -I need to drink more of this’ or a ‘the sooner I drink up the sooner I can drink something else’ gesture?” The boy might be shy but if he really felt something he acted on it. Yoongi respected him for that. Like the way Jungkook had enjoyed his ice cream without giving a damn if someone else could stare (him, for example) or how he had just went away from the situation with Yoongi and his friend when it had become too much - or how he just drank up now, not caring that Yoongi had no idea what it meant.

Jungkook didn’t know what to do. His heart was beating so hard against his chest that it was hurting, and his breath came in short, quiet pants. He was sure he would faint. There was no doubt about it. Placing his cup aside, Jungkook shook his head and then nodded again and then shook it again because no matter what he did, he couldn’t answer Yoongi’s question without making him understand.

He raised his hands slowly, opening his mouth. He would be fine, he thought to himself. He had gotten so used to Yoongi being around in a way, it would be fine. He could talk to him. He would understand if he would explain. Everyone else had been fine with him talking, too…so Yoongi should be, too, right? He wouldn’t make a mess right now. He could form proper sentences. He wouldn’t gay panic and drool all over but say a functional sentence with words that made sense. Yes. Right…now.

Taking another deep breath, Jungkook opened his mouth again, when Hoseok stumbled into the kitchen, slightly drunk. His eyes flickered from Yoongi to Jungkook and then back to Yoongi, raising his eyebrow. “So, you found the angel, huh. How did you know it was him?” Hoseok asked and pushed them both apart to get to the bowl and fill up his cup. Jungkook was glad for the distraction, turning his face away from Yoongi as he tried to collect himself. He could do this. It was easy…just a few little words. Just words. Nothing more than simple words. Jungkook’s knuckles turned white with how hard he was gripping the kitchen counter, trying to take a deep breath and form his lips as if he wanted to say something. He could do it. Jungkook was so occupied with trying to control his storm of thoughts that he didn’t listen to what Hoseok was saying.

“You really won’t let go of him, hm? I’ll keep my eyes on you.” He was pointing at his eyes and then at Yoongi again with a narrowed glance.

Hoseok was apparently way more drunk that he looked because his words absolutely didn’t make sense. “The...what? Hoseok, you mixed something up. Jungkook wrote the lyrics.” If he couldn’t talk he was pretty sure that he also couldn’t sing. At Jungkook’s dumbfounded expression he explained, “Hobi showed me his new song and also the lyrics that you wrote for him. They are really good; I was impressed with your talent. Do you enjoy doing that?” And, because he felt bold he added with a wink, “What would I need to do to make you consider working with me too?”

Jungkook snapped around and looked like a deer in the headlight. How did Yoongi know about him helping Hoseok with the song? He was full on panicking now, biting on his lips nervously while Yoongi was talking to him.

“The only thing I’m mixing is my drink,” Hoseok added, chuckling at his own joke before he simply retreated, leaving Jungkook absolutely flustered. How could Hoseok do that to him? Yoongi out of all people. Jungkook had asked him to keep it hidden, to not tell anyone. He flushed red, hiding his face behind his hands and shook his head. He couldn’t believe it.

“Hey, are you okay? Did you drink that bowl too quickly? Want to catch some air?” Yoongi mistook Jungkook suddenly folding in on himself as not feeling well (which was not that wrong except that Jungkook felt emotionally ill, not physically).

Shaking his head some more, Jungkook stumbled back a little and then he stormed out. He really needed air right now. He had reacted completely on instinct and the moment the cold air hit him, Jungkook realized he looked like a complete fool now. Why couldn’t he get his shit together and just say something. Why did Yoongi make it so hard for him? Why couldn’t he just get over his fear? Anyone else could do it. But why not him? Jungkook whined helplessly.

Even though Jungkook had shown no sign that he wanted Yoongi to come with him the other went after him, nonetheless. He wanted to make sure that Jungkook was okay and if the younger really needed time to himself then he could go - but he didn't want to leave him alone without knowing for sure that this was what he wanted. He ran out of the house and then stopped short because Jungkook was standing in the front yard, hunched forward and looking painfully miserable. Yoongi carefully approached him before gently asking, “Do you need to throw up? Do you want me to get you to the bathroom?”

There was silence between them.

Yoongi cared about him. Again. Jungkook knew that he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t keep himself away from this. From Yoongi. From whatever this was. With a blush on his cheeks, he opened his mouth once more…closed it and then opened it again.

His heart was beating so hard that Jungkook could feel it in his throat. It was constricting him. Hands shaking as he fumbled around with his shirt.

“I…” His voice was only a croak, “I…I’m okay.” Jungkook mumbled the words more than he said them, his arms wrapped around his own body as he shivered in the cold. He pulled the sleeves of his sweater a little further over his hands, pushing up his glasses, a faint smile pulling at the corner of his lips. He had done it. He said two words. He could do a little more. Jungkook closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I…I’m fine. I…Hoseok just…” He blushed, wiping over his face with his sweater to hide it a little more, “I’m s-sorry.”

Yoongi stared at him, gaping like a fish. Had he drunk too much? Was he hallucinating? He blinked, but nothing changed. They were still standing awkwardly in the front yard of Namjoon’s place and Jungkook was smiling softly at him as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb. “Did you.. did you just talk to me?”

Jungkook nodded slowly, fumbling around with the hem of his sweater. “Y-y-yeah,” He spoke again, giggling softly and quietly, thinking that he finally managed to do right, but when he saw that Yoongi now was the one with the color fading from his face, he immediately reached out for him.

Yoongi took a step back, his walls coming up. He furrowed his brows as he spoke again, now way more guarded and neutral than before. “I thought.. I thought you were mute. Is this like... funny to you? Pretending not to be able to talk and keeping others guessing? Is this some kind of attention seeking thing?”

How could he have been so wrong about the boy? And why on earth had Hobi participated in this charade? Why hadn’t he just told him that Jungkook was playing games with him? He felt hurt and lost and he regretted ever having spilled his secrets to Jungkook. It must have been so funny to Jungkook to see him opening up while he literally hadn’t spoken a single word to him in return.

It didn’t even take Jungkook one second to retreat into his shell again. He pulled his hand back, startling with how angry Yoongi sounded out of a sudden. Mute? Why would he think that he was mute? And suddenly it all made sense. The way Yoongi had talked to him, had tried to protect him because he thought he wasn’t able to. Averting his gaze onto his feet, Jungkook didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t good at these kinds of things and now he had made him mad. This was a mess, just like he had predicted. Whenever he said something it turned into a whole fucking chaotic mess for him.

Jungkook felt like crying. He could feel his bottom lip start to tremble, trying to form the words ‘I am sorry’ but only a whimper came from him.

“Fuck, this is just a waste of my time!” Yoongi was growling, angry and bitter while in reality he was just hurt. It had been so long since he had gotten swept off his feet by someone and Jungkook had done just that, he had come into his focus and then took all of his attention, making him dizzy from it and his heartbeat into overdrive whenever he had thought of him. Ad now it turned out that he had just been a part of Jungkook’s game. There was a reason he normally didn’t let people in; it always ended like this. With the hurt squeezing his chest and filling his stomach with acid while he was wishing to never feel like this ever again.

When he turned away from Jungkook, he bumped right into Hoseok. Great. That was the second person he needed right now. Hoseok’s eyes flickered over to Jungkook who was literally on the verge of tears now, trying to hide in his oversized sweater and then back to Yoongi who looked like he was ready to fight someone. “What happened?” When the other tried to ignore him, Hoseok held him back by his jacket, “Did you hurt him?”

Yoongi swatted his hands away, not playfully but with enough force to make it clear that he would hurt Hobi if he tried to hold him back again. “Are you seriously asking if I hurt him? You, who let him play his little stunt on me? I thought we were friends! Why didn’t you tell me that this ‘being mute’ thing was just a facade to get me to care?”

“Are you fucking stupid or something?” Hoseok shook his head and hissed at him, whispering low so that Jungkook wouldn’t hear too much, “Don’t you get it? It took three weeks for him to talk to me. He still doesn’t talk to Namjoon either and it took him a few weeks to start talking to Jimin. When he moved in with him, Jungkook waited until Jimin was asleep and then sneaked into the shower. I don’t fuck around like this, Yoongi. Not with Jungkook…he’s too good for that, I told you. Mute? Really? Do you think he’s one to play games like that? Look at him, really look at him…” Hoseok shook his head, “It is Jungkook who sang the song and it is also the boy who is too shy to talk to you because he always had a thing for you. Fucking always. But you never saw him. Do you remember the day you came into the studio because you forgot your notebook? You asked why I had it ‘on recording’ when I wasn’t even singing in the booth. Jungkook was fucking hiding.” He chuckled low, peeking over his shoulder to see if Jungkook was okay. “It’s so easy for him to be overseen, do you think he’d fuck around with you for the fun of it? You’re really dumb, Yoongi and he didn’t even need to talk to you to make you give over your heart. He only needed you to see him. Not everyone is out to hurt you, Yoongs.”

Yoongi was ready to fight when Hoseok called him dumb, anger and hurt mixing into a dangerous combination that made him defiant and wary and cold. Only when Hoseok told him to look at Jungkook did his walls crack a little. Because when he turned Jungkook was still standing there but he had his sleeves pulled over his hands again, fiddling with them as if to distract himself from the stress he was in right now. He couldn’t look at Yoongi and it was obvious that he was trying his hardest not to cry. It was 180° away from the shy but happy boy who had found enough courage to talk to him a few minutes ago. Though in his fear of being used and lied to and made fun of Yoongi had lashed out at everyone around him, Kook and Hobi alike the second his insecurities got the better of him.

“Kook is... he really is that shy? And he’s your secret singer?” He asked, had to, really, just to be 100 percent sure or else his fear would keep nagging at him, undermining every certainty he might gain. Suddenly it made a lot more sense what Hobi had said in the kitchen - and also that the singer had wanted to stay anonymous.

Jungkook just couldn’t handle too much attention.

Hoseok smiled, “Yes, he is. And I still mean what I said…if you hurt Jungkook...” Nudging his friends side, he laughed, “You’re really stupid sometimes. I hope you know that…” When Hoseok turned around though, wanting to get Jungkook back inside with them, maybe get them a quiet place to talk, he saw that the younger had turned his back onto them, starting to walk away with his shoulders hunched over. Before Yoongi could run after him, or call out his name, Hoseok held him back one last time, “If you bail on him, block his number after a few days or don’t give him your jacket when he’s cold…I will come for you, just so you remember. He deserves someone that wants to listen to him in exchange.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. “I’d never. He can have my jacket whenever he wants. My leather jacket.” Hoseok gasped in fake surprise. “So are we good?” He waited until his friend nodded before turning back to Jungkook and running after him.

“Hey, Jungkook! Kook! Kookie!” The younger didn’t stop so he ran a little faster until he caught up with him. “Stop ignoring me I know you’re not deaf! And not mute either. So please, please talk to me! I promise I won’t be mean again and start yelling for no reason. I was just... I was scared you had been playing me and…,“ He sighed before deciding that if Jungkook was supposed to overcome his fears and talk to him then he would have to overcome his fears as well and keep opening up, “...and I was really hurt because I liked you so much. Like... really liked you. The way that you can’t just erase if you find out that the other person isn’t who you thought they were. But surprise turns out you weren’t pretending at all and I’m just bothering you… again. So, what do you say? Two coffees now? And some cheesecake?”

Jungkook stopped, eyes searching Yoongi’s while the other was opening up to him, bearing his heart right in front of him. “I’m not good at this,” He whispered, his heart aching inside his chest and Jungkook wiped over his eyes, making his glasses almost fall and he quickly pushed them back up his nose. He felt dizzy from the emotional rollercoaster and he was scared Yoongi would hurt him again.

“H-how do you know you like me when…when I don’t t-talk.” Jungkook raked a hand through his hair nervously, “Wh-what if I do and I make it worse? I already did. I always make a mess. I’m not even as pretty as the…the exchange student! I’m...” Jungkook sighed, feeling like a mess already again. Why couldn’t he do it as easily as the others? He honest to god just wanted to go home, hide under his covers and cry.

“That’s easy. I like you cause you’re kindhearted and courageous and smart. And you are talented and creative, and you have an angel’s voice even though you don’t show it. We communicated all the time; I don’t need you to spell out every word for me to understand you. And who knows maybe you’ll feel comfortable enough around me that you might even forget your shyness. And you didn’t make it ‘worse’ with talking, I was just surprised that’s all. You won’t surprise me like that again. Unless you scream at me for no reason or hide behind something to jump out. I got to warn you though I’ve got a mean right hook and it’s kind of reflex. You see you’re not the only one who’s not the easiest to be with. So, if you can handle being with me then I’m pretty sure I can handle being with you. Deal?” He felt like confessing again and telling Kook that he was like the most beautiful person he had ever seen might not be such a good idea if he didn't want to overwhelm him so he hoped that Jungkook would just forget what he had said.

“B…being with you?“ Jungkook asked carefully, not sure if Yoongi meant the same way he had dreamed about so many times before. “But you’re Yoongi…you can be with anyone a-and you don’t care.” Jungkook was biting his lip, “And shouldn’t we go out then first? Like a date? With…movies and stuff and...I’m not sure.” He hesitated, averting his gaze as he shyly admitted, “I’ve never been with someone.”

Jungkook’s shy objections weren’t a ‘no’ so Yoongi felt hopeful. “Sorry, yeah, I got a little carried away there. Of course, there will be dates. First two coffees with Cheesecake like I owe you. Then whatever else you want to do. And then you can decide if you want to consider being in a relationship with me - so that Hobi can stop pretending like you’re some maiden and I’m trying to ruin your reputation. He can’t say anything if we make it official, right?” He was joking a little, half for Jungkook to lighten the mood and half for himself because honestly he had no idea what he was doing and was completely out of his depth here. Relationships, officially being boyfriends, classical dating - he couldn’t remember when he had last attempted those things let alone cared for them. Though for Jungkook he would try his best to make the younger feel as comfortable as possible.

“And if you don’t like it we can always .. go back to how it was before.” Though he hated that thought. Because he was pretty sure that now that he had seen Jungkook and had gotten to know him better he could never just ‘casually go back to nodding vaguely at each other in the hallways when they met because they were friends of a friend.

Jungkook nodded slowly, biting his lip in thought. “Oh-okay,” He finally said and smiled, butterflies starting to fly in his stomach making him feel light like a feather for a moment. Blushing sweetly, he pointed at Yoongi’s pants again, nodding towards his phone.

Yoongi raised his eyebrow at him, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips when he realized what he wanted. Taking out his phone, he gave it over to him adding in a low voice (that instantly send a shiver down Jungkook’s spine), “You won’t run away this time, right?” This time though he hoped that Jungkook would enter his number and not write a text cause even though it had been cute he would really like to be able to call him this time.

Jungkook shook his head and started typing in his phone number. “That’s how you do it. I’ll give you my phone number and then you call me and ask me out again. And then we meet. Somewhere. You choose. Just like they do it all the time, right?” His heartbeat was picking up, as he simply recalled everything he learned from movies, “First phone number, then kiss.” He smiled brightly, cheeks aflamed as he gave Yoongi his phone back.

“Alright, you call the shots.” A smile was tugging at his lips. “Just tell me when I’ve got permission to kiss you - or show me if words are not an option then.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but giggle, feeling absolutely embarrassed because he wanted to kiss Yoongi. He really wanted to. But they were out in the open. Not far from the dorms and Jungkook was nervous. Hella nervous. Bringing up his sweater paws he hid his face in them, “I-I want to…but I’m…”

“You mean like.. right now?” When Jungkook shyly nodded, hiding his face even further in his hands Yoongi gently reached out for him to pry his hands away from his face, slowly so that Jungkook could stop him if he really couldn’t handle this. “What’s stopping you then, baby?” He got closer until he stood right in front of him, sneaking his fingers into Jungkook’s sleeve so that he could hold onto his fingers instead of the sweater. Only when he felt Jungkook holding onto him too did he continue. He leaned his head against Jungkook’s forehead, giving the younger time to get used to their closeness, to decide if he really wanted this and then, when there was no objection he tilted his head, slowly brushing his lips against Jungkooks.

Jungkook’s heart skipped a beat, then two and then he wasn’t so sure if he was even still alive.

He fell against Yoongi, fully trusting him to catch him, because it felt too good to feel his warm lips against his own. It felt absolutely perfect, with their fingers laced together and lips melting against one another. Jungkook knew he was already addicted. When they broke the kiss Yoongi felt breathless even though it was the softest and most delicate kiss he ever gave to someone. He gently squeezed Jungkook’s hand to check if he was okay. “Are you good?” The smile was impossible to wipe off his face, “Do you think you could get used to this?”

“Y-yeah,” Jungkook bit his lip to keep from smiling too hard and then he just let his heart decide for once. It felt too good to be so close to Yoongi, but he was too shy to initiate another kiss, so he simply stepped closer and hugged him. Hands pushed into his jacket, embracing Yoongi softly as he leaned his head on his shoulder. “C-can we do the date and cheesecake now?”

Jungkooks open affection took him by surprised but he had to confess that he absolutely loved this; feeling Jungkook’s warms seeping through his shirt and knowing that this hug alone was a sign of trust so big that it was practically a love confession. “Yes.” Carefully he carded his fingers through the youngers curly hair, “Let’s skip the party and go look for slices of cheesecake. And if Namjoon is mad that we left his birthday party we promise him that he can throw flowers on our wedding if he wants.” He adored the beautiful blush on Jungkook’s cheeks, happy that he could still tease the younger a little and giving him a cheeky wink.

Though deep down in his heart a tiny, tender part was whispering that maybe this joke might come true in the end. Who knew maybe - despite being the odd ones and the outsiders - they would get their happily ever after as well.

A/N: Yay!!! Happy End!!! Talking about happy, Cat and I are so glad that you liked this short little fluff so much so far and we already talked about writing a few more “shorter” fluffs for you guys. Leave us a comment down below on what you think :) Will Yoonkook work out or will they eventually break off again? Will it get too much for Yoongi one day? *sighs* We will never find out ;) hihiihihi LOVE YOU GUYS

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sirveltic · 5 years

Text

.:R6S:. Sledge/Lynx/Mute

Boy this really has been a while! I’ve been working on this for a while and hopefully this is good! Also yes, Andrea is in a polyamorous relationship. Fight me I just can’t choose between Mute or Sledge F. Also I’m not a doctor so if something is wrong, do tell me!

Word Count: 10173

Pairing: Sledge/Lynx(OC)/Mute

Warnings: Descriptions of injury, tooth rotting fluff, swearing, mild medical procedures

It hadn't been until recently that Romania had allowed for their special forces to group with team Rainbow. With White Mask attacks being at an all time high around the world, they had seen no reason to lend some of their elite marksmen to some organization. Until now, when things were calmer, more manageable.

It had been almost a year since two members of the SIAS had joined Rainbow. Their personalities were almost complete opposites, yet, as they said, they were attached at the hip.

Andrea 'Lynx' Christoff and Sergei 'Iron Bull' Ralu. A medic and a therapist- just what Rainbow needed. Though recently their dorms had experienced a form of 'team exercise' ; forcing the two to shelter in the bunks of other units. Sergei had gone to bunk with a friend he had made, Gilles. The mountain of a man was a gentle giant- Sergei possibly had a crush on him, as Andrea liked to tease.

Meanwhile the woman had no other choice but to bunk with the unit closest to her dorms; the SAS. She held a neutral attitude to them; most of the time the boys wouldn't bother her and would only really strike conversation because of James, seeing as he was the most nosy. 'For blackmail,' he had once told Seamus, 'she could try to kill us.' Odd, how the most unpredictable man thought a medic would kill people faster than he would.

However scarce may be the moments where the Romanian would come out of her office; all creatures needed social interaction. She was no different. It got... lonely, sometimes. Without her old squadron bothering her to death and duct-aping her bag to the ceiling, how else was she going to get entertainment? Newspaper could only do so much.

Thus, she found herself at the bar in the lounge. It wasn't often she would be driven to alcohol- but, alas, cigarettes and drugs could only do so much. She was alone- most were either too wary of her to strike up conversation or simply didn't trust her enough to approach. She did pull a pistol on Marius once for coming in her office with a mere cut on his arm. She hadn't shot him, but did give him the scare of his life.

Andrea's dull eyes gazed down at the opaque brown liquid in the glass, her natural expression never changing. She was thinking- deep where she dreaded to go, bringing back thoughts she had never wanted to think of. Idly, she sipped at the whiskey, the small ice cubes clinking against the glass cup, breaking the silence if only for a short second. Lowering the drink from her lips and setting it back down on the wooden counter, Andrea sighed. If only she had Sergei talking to her right now- he'd probably be telling some story about his time as a therapist.

Once more, she lifted the glass up to her lips and drank the rest of the liquid, emptying the glass swiftly. She still could feel her thoughts creeping up on her. So, another shot she poured herself, the bottle now almost halfway gone.

A noise caught her attention. Footsteps, almost completely silent had she not been trained to hear subtle sounds. Instinctively, the Romanian looked over her shoulder and saw the youngest member of the SAS approach her. Mark R. Chandar- mostly known as Mute since he seems to never talk outside of situations. Even in situations he rarely talked, only doing so to state something to his team.

Andrea waved a hand at him as he sat down on the stool next to her. Though she wouldn't admit it, the Brit intrigued her. Always communicating in sign language, always looking calm yet being the most protected in his unit. Never seeming to falter his analytics. He truly was the prodigy his file called him out to be.

Speaking of Mark, he waved at her in return and gestured to the bottle of whiskey.

"Knock yourself out." She shrugged, back to her own glass, her own thoughts. She didn't even notice the man get up to walk behind the bar and get himself a glass.

No, she thought purely about the mission that had gone South of what was planned. What had supposed to been a simple bio hazard defusing had almost turned into a full on bloodbath on both sides of the fight.

Her team had barely made it out alive. Had it not been for her skills in field medicine, she was sure they would have all been dead. Monika sported a fractured arm, Elizabeth was in Gustave's care after a bullet to the side, Seamus was dealing with cracked ribs and Emmanuelle had shrapnel wounds from a frag grenade. Andrea? An agonizing hip and a bullet to the shoulder. Nothing compared to the pain of her team. Luckily they had managed to secure and defuse the container before anyone could actually die though the guilt of having missed her enemy sweep was ever so present. Strong enough that not even her marijuana could help her take her mind off of it.

They should have been safe- she should have been the one in emergency care, not Eliza. The Romanian sighed deeply at her thoughts and brought the glass to her lips one last time, tilting her head back to drink the alcohol all in one go. A terrible idea, really. This time, she slammed the empty glass back down on the wood counter and reached up to rub at her eyes with her palm. Ugh. She felt so tired already.

A small tap on her shoulder brought her attention back to the Brit who had returned back to his spot besides her. Despite remaining silent in even the toughest of situations, she could still read the concern he felt for her.

The man pointed at her then held his right hand out flat open, his other hand also flat open on top of his right, hitting the palm gently.

*Are you okay?*

'Course he had heard of what happened- it was a miracle if no one had. Mark was glad to have gotten to Andrea before Mike did. Old bastard would be yelling at the woman, demanding her to tell him who gave her the rights to let Seamus get wounded under her leadership. Baker always did view of the SAS unit as his boys, after all.

Andrea huffed and looked back down at the empty glass, now somewhat stained with the last drops of whiskey,

"I've been better." She answered flatly, sliding the empty glass next to the bottle of whiskey and sighing deeply through her nose. Her brows were furrowed, her head concentrated on trying to distract itself from many different things at once. It clearly wasn't working, Mark noticed, her right foot was shaking and she was tapping her fingers against the counter. She was hurting; physically and mentally.

Had James been here, Mark was sure that the Brit would have mocked her to the point of earning another broken nose. Seamus had probably already forgiven Andrea- she was the medic, after all, she knew more than he did. Plus, he was bedridden until the worst of his ribs went away- around a week or two.

Really, the only thing the operator could do was scoot closer to her and wrap and set a hand on her shoulder in comfort. That, and he also deemed that he would rather have her sober than drunk, if only because he feared how she would be when intoxicated.

Andrea rose a brow and looked over at him with a questioning look, yet didn't protest against the action. It wasn't Sergei holding her and rocking her back into the real world after a night terror, but it was a gesture she appreciated none the less.

"Thanks." Was all she said, letting the silence bask them once again. It was thick, almost like it could be cut through with a knife- but it was welcome. Neither of them were very talkative, she supposed. Mark never talked and she never wanted conversations to last longer than they should.

In the silence of the room they sat, drinking and not saying a word other than a few quick glances.

Sharing the building with the Americans was truly an experience, though.

Jordan was the first to barge in, in his usual outspoken self- Miles and Jack not too far behind him. The only American missing was Eliza. Andrea turned her head away from them, guilt once more taking her away from a peaceful mindset.

It was a solemn day for the affected units. She was sure Monika was being pampered by the Germans in their own dorms.

"Hey~" came the sing song voice from Jordan, who plopped down on a stool next to the Romanian, "There's the dream girl! Holding up alright?"

No answer.

"Tough crowd today, huh." He mumbled to himself, furrowing his brows. The FBI SWAT team had also been shaken by the information given to them about Eliza's condition. Who thought that the most careful person in the team ended up with the worst wound? Jordan turned to face the bar and reached to the back of his neck, scratching the area awkwardly whilst he watched Jack take place behind the bar. Mark gazed over at Andrea again, now more concerned. There was a hint of pity in his eyes; she was suffering. This time, more physically than mentally. Curtly, (and rather rudely, as Jordan had once commented) the Brit stood up and left the bar, walking out of the room in a brisk pace. This left her alone with the Americans.

Great.

The SIAS operator reached into her pocket and took out her phone, unlocking it and beginning to browse whatever sites she usually looked at. Jack (commonly known as 'Pulse') took this as a liberty to speak.

"Any news on Eliza?" He asked while pouring Jordan and Miles their drinks, gazing up at Andrea with an expectant glint in his eyes. Said woman sighed and rubbed her eyes once more, forcing the answer out,

"Her condition is stable but she still lost a lot of blood. We aren't allowing any visitors until we deem her okay. We're looking at about two weeks from now." She answered, Jordan's hiss almost making her leave in itself.

"Doesn't sound to stable to me."

"Then I will gladly give my job to you, Trace." The snap was almost instant, silencing the Texan instantly. At least, until he whistled and turned his attention back to his teammates. Definitely a tough crowd today.

"I'm sure no one's holding their knives at your throat, Christoff." Spoke Jack, now leaning on the counter with a bottle of beer in hand. Heineken. Gross.

"Not at the moment."

"The operation was a success- we all know what we sign up for when we joined our units. Be glad no one actually died." He said in hopes of comforting her. His only answer was a scoff from the woman. His other answer was her getting up and leaving the bar without a word, moving to sit on one of the beanbags at the other side of the room, secluded from the others. This time, Jordan held himself from commenting on it.

The door to the common room opened yet again with Mark having returned from wherever he went. This time, he held a bottle of water in hand and a pill in the other. His eyes briefly scanned the room for the Romanian after noticing she was no longer at the bar. Spotting her in the beanbag area, the Brit walked over to her in a more relaxed pace than before, moving one of the beanbags with his foot to be closer in front of her. Andrea looked up from her phone at him in confusion. That is, until he sat down in front of her and offered her the pill and bottle.

Ah. Her meds. She forgot about those. No wonder her hip felt like it was exploding. With a curt thanking, Andrea took the pill and water bottle from him, popping the pill in her mouth and washing it down with water, to which she closed the bottle afterwards and set it down next to her. Andrea gave him a nod to signal her gratitude and leaned back into the beanbag, taking out her phone. After that, she spent the rest of the hour browsing her phone- going from texting her sister to browsing sites so she could buy more components to her sonar captor device.

Mark, also deeming the worst of the current situation dealt with, made himself comfortable on his own beanbag and crossed his legs; also taking out his phone to browse what he usually looked at.

The next hour was relatively silent aside from the chatting at the bar, to which Andrea kept a close ear to. Who knew that the Americans had some of the best gossip in all of Rainbow? She did now. Then again, she knew most, if not everything about all the other operators and people on base. Such was her job as a medic, after all. Having info about everyone was essential to her job, as Gustave had once told her.

The Romanian kept her eyes mostly glued to the screen of her device, occasionally glancing up whenever a loud sound erupted from anywhere within the common room. Nothing too bad, she deducted, only the Americans sharing a few jokes to try and lighten up their moods with Eliza being in emergency care. It must be hard to know that a close friend of theirs was gravely wounded and it was nothing they could do. Was this how Sergei had felt after finding Andrea out in Afghanistan, her hip blown to shreds and pissing blood? Maybe. Maybe not. Who was she to care?

Yet again she was snapped out of her thoughts with an oh so familiar voice calling her out.

"Oye! Where's that hag?" Ah, James. His insults could only ever mean affection, she had found out. The woman sighed and rolled her eyes; way to go, life. You've ruined another good moment of hers.

Speaking of the devil, here he comes now, having spotted her seconds after entering the room. What she had expected, however, turned out to not happen. James Porter, the man as unpredictable as time itself, let himself drop down comfortably on the beanbag next to Mark and kicked off his army grades boots to free his feet from the warm.

Gross, but typical.

Almost as if on cue, his loud voice tore through the silence like a starving lion,

"I'll give ya this, Christoff, you've managed ta piss off Mike like I've never seen 'im before." He mused, crossing his arms behind his head as he let out a relaxed, barely interested sigh. Andrea grunted and rolled her eyes,

"I can hear him yelling from a mile away, Porter." A snort emitted from the Brit,

"Aye. Ya really knocked 'im off 'is knickers with that stunt ya pulled."

"Don't. Remind me about it." Andrea hid her face in her hands and sighed deeply, yet again rubbing at her tired eyes. A tick she had developed over the years, she only did it when stressed. Very much like now. Though James' silence threw her off. She knew exactly what he had done to garner such a relaxed and not so bothered attitude.

"You told him where I was."

"Yep." Oh this was just great. She was about to have her ears pulled out because of the rotten snitch she called a colleague. This was absolutely how she wanted to calm down after a mission gone South.

Mark furrowed his brows and looked up from the screen of his phone, glancing between James and Andrea with worry. He knew how angry Mike actually was about that the mission had gone so sour- poor bastard had left the punching bag in the gym to bits and pieces. Last time Mark had seen him, the man was ranting about what he would do to Andrea if she 'showed her bloody fucking face' around him ever again.

Alas, her work morals didn't allow her to skip patients because of threats and Seamus was in need of a checkup. From an actual doctor and not an old man who hates laser sights. Andrea stood up with a wince and stretched her muscles, stuffing her phone back in her pocket.

"Great." She mumbled a few incoherent words in Romanian and limped away as she would do. Her hip would only let her walk so much without limping. James craned his neck to watch her leave the room, an oh so satisfied smile on his face. With a chuckle, he made himself nice and comfortable on the beanbag and swung his legs on the bag Andrea had once been on. Only when he felt eyes stare into his soul did he dare to look at Mark; who looked none too pleased about him.

"The fuck are ya glarin' at me for? She's the one who fucked up 'Mus' ribs!" This time Mark only rolled his eyes and stood up to follow after the woman, his pace fast in order to catch up.

"You're not actually ditchin' me for a fuckin- MARK!" Ah, he knew James was the most social out of all the SAS unit. If there was no one to bother then he would no doubt find some poor recruits to almost smoke to death with his 'toxic babes'. Porter was quick to leave his oh so comfortable spot to join up with the younger man, punching him in the shoulder as he did so.

"Ya fuckin' wanker. If Mike snaps on us yer fuckin' as good as dead, mate." He growled, only earning a huff from his teammate. As they caught up with the Romanian, Mark reached over and set a hand on her shoulder, if only to let her know that she had his support in case Mike really did try to kill her. Andrea glanced over her shoulder briefly and blinked, turning her eyes back to the hallway in front of her. Her office (temporary) was a few feet away and the three reached it in a matter of seconds.

"You two stay outside." As James was about to protest, the scent of some strong marijuana hit both men directly in the nose, causing them both to cover their noses. Mark's eyes watered due to the chemicals so he made quick work to try and rub the tears away.

"Jesus Christ that's some strong shit." Said James, looking away to try and suck in a breath of fresh air. He definitely knew who his new drug dealer was going to be.

Now that she was alone, Andrea sighed deeply to allow her mind to clear up before she'd walk in the middle of the storm. Still, it wasn't like she could avoid Mike any longer. Sure she could sleep in her office chair, but she still needed to keep Seamus in top condition to make sure he healed effectively and quickly. The Romanian reached over to the coat rack and grabbed her white coat from the rack, sliding it on with ease. She was glad to be wearing her typical gray t-shirt and camo pants. No need to change clothing. Before she walked over to her desk, however, she made her way over to the window and opened it wide to clear out the drug smelling air of the office. She'd need to disinfect everything the moment the Scotsman's checkup was done. Now standing next to her desk, the Romanian reached up and untied her auburn hair from the tight bun, tilting her head back to redo the bun more securely.

Now that she looked at her desk more closely, she saw something on her desk. A letter. Most likely from Six or her sister; Laura always did write at the most inconvenient times, she thought as she flipped the letter over to determine who it was from. Ah, Laura. She'll have to read it later when she had time. Andrea tore open the envelope and tossed it aside while briefly running her eyes over the words of the letter, she huffed and set the paper back on her desk for later, grabbing her stethoscope from the corner of her desk before she made her way out of her office and closed the door with her right hand. Surprisingly, Mark was still there. James, however, had most likely left to either go back to the common room or to the examination to get ready for the show that was about to happen.

"Good to know you're on my side, Chandar." She commented, motioning for him to follow her. He was apart of the SAS, he had every right to be there for Seamus' checkup. Be it by luck or misfortune , the examination room nearest to her was only two doors away. Now in front of the door to the room, she took in a deep breath and turned the doorknob and opened the door, letting Mark enter first and closed the door behind her before speaking,

"Alright. Before we get to the results I-" before she could finish, a force slammed into her she felt herself get lifted up a few centimeters off the ground by the collar of her shirt with a voice booming in her disoriented ears.

"Who the bloody Hell do ya think you are?" Mike growled, keeping Andrea pinned to the door. Unfortunately for him, her experience in situations like these had trained her well.

"Giving your teammate a checkup-"

"After lettin' 'im fuckin' snap his ribs in half? You better have a good fuckin' excuse before I rip yer fuckin' throat out." Again, more threats he wouldn't be able to keep.

"Mister Baker, I don't have time for your aggression. Unhand me this instance or I will be forced to-"

"I'm waiting, Christoff." Damn him for being her superior. The Romanian glared at him and grasped his wrists tightly in an attempt to let him go. No use, he had an iron grip on her. Soon enough, the both of them had entered a pretty heated argument with Mark trying his hardest to actually separate them. Seamus, hunched over, looked over at James with pain in his eyes.

"Not gonnae stop 'em?" James pursed his lips and shook his head, looking more than entertained.

"Nah. This is gettin' good." He spoke lowly, his eyes never leaving the chaos in front of him that he, for once, hadn't started.

"OI! Leave the poor lass alone! Was'n'ike she could've seen what'dve fuckin' happen'!"

Finally, after what seemed to be forever, Mike let go of the medic after some thorough coaxing from the mute and the Scot's words. Mike's glare never left Andrea, even as she walked to approach their injured teammate. Mike always did treat the SAS as his boys, as funny as he tried to deny the fact.

"Yer on thin fuckin' ice, Christoff." Andrea looked over at Seamus with a cringe and rolled her shoulder, hoping that her wound hadn't been irritated.

"That bad, huh?" No answer. Once a few short seconds passed, she spoke up again,

"As I was saying, Agent Cowden I'll need to test a few things before going over the results with you." She explained, walking over to the counter running the water.

First, she washed her hands in the sink for extra measures. Despite not being too keen on her job, she was going to do it right. All the while she was drying her hands and putting on the medical gloves, she spoke up.

"Has anything felt out of place or have you been feeling any effects from the ribs?" She asked, now standing in front of Seamus.

"Agent Porter please get off of the examination table so I can proceed with the checkup." As expected, he merely leaned back.

"Agent Porter." A few more seconds of a strong glare made James scoff and slid off the table. The woman made no motion to thank him, turning her attention back to Seamus.

"I'll keep it brief this time. Have you felt anything else other than pain? Nausea, headaches?" She asked, glancing up at him while setting a hand on the back of his shoulder to keep his back straight all the while applying pressure to his chest.

Oh, Seamus was in absolute agony. He practically forced himself to talk.

"Naye. Just some- FUCKIN'-" he took a deep breath, "- agony when I breathe." His accent got thicker, she noticed, as a response to big amounts of pain. Mike, though he wanted to act, knew better than to disturb a doctor from their work. Andrea gave a nod, pressing her index and middle finger to a more specific area right below his rib cage. Another hiss of pain. Most likely some bruising of something of the sort.

"Alright, lift up your shirt, Cowden. One of your teammates may help you if you find it too painful." She informed him, helping him lift up his shirt over his chest. Had she not seen worse, she would have winced at the bruising seen on his chest. It would take a long while to recover. Mike now jumped in to help, telling Seamus that he'd keep the shirt up for him. Once Andrea got her hands to the bruised flesh, the boys let the shirt fall back down to hide her gloved hands.

Blocking out the rest of the conversation between Mike, James and Mark, Andrea once again instructed the Scotsman what to do,

"Alright, I need you to take deep and calm breaths as best as you can." She said as she took the stethoscope from around her neck to put the ear tips in her ears. Once the ear tips were adjusted and the diaphragm was set to go, Andrea pressed the cold metal against his bruised skin, earning a hiss of both pain and discomfort. Looking over at Mike briefly, she gave him a nod and let him lower the shirt back down.

"Deep breaths, Cowden." She was glad the man followed her instructions as best as he could. His breathing was limited, almost like it was blocked by his reflex. Wheezing and wincing, he would be needing more than just six weeks to fully heal.

What made her frown was the slight vibration when he breathed. That was concerning. Moving the diaphragm up his other pectoral, she spoke up,

"Deep breaths, Agent Cowden." His chest rattled with painful laughter.

"I'm tryin'." The Romanian only hummed and went back to her silent self, listening more closely. The rattling consisted here too. Definitely concerning. Now, she moved to his back to give him as much relief from the pain as possible. She did the same thing she had done to his chest, listening carefully (probably taking much more time than needed) in order to make a proper diagnosis. After a moment, she stood straight again and took the ear tips out of her ears, sliding the chest piece out of his shirt and setting the stethoscope back around her shoulders.

"So, your problems breathing indicate that you're in great deals of pain- obviously. There was some rattling in your chest and it may be something like a developing cold though you'll need to go to Doctor Kateb to get it confirmed." She paused, making sure he was listening to all of the information. All four of them were.

"Otherwise I'll give you some Acetaminophen to lessen the pain for a few hours. You'll need to go to Kateb again since until I can go back to my building, I won't have the medicine needed."

"How long 'til 'es back on the field?" Andrea hummed, furrowing her brows as she examined the group more closely.

"Judging by the severity of the ribs, I'm estimating between six to eight weeks before he'll have healed enough to ease back into training. That is, if he doesn't go against my instructions and trains while he's still wounded." Mark visibly winced at that, feeling a pang of pity in his heart for the breacher. Six to eight weeks of nothing but rest and pain. It absolutely would not be a good time for Seamus, he could tell.

"The Acetaminophen should help cope with the pain, though doing any physical activity will make it worse. Your best bet is to spend the first week or so in bed to give time for the bruises to start fading away and for the tears in the thorax to begin healing. Keep movement at a minimum and everything should go as planned." She explained, crossing her arms. Fuck, how she wished she had a cane. Seamus felt the need to speak up this time;

"So ye wan'me ta stae in me bed fer weeks wi' nuthin ta do?" He asked, back in his hunched over position. Fuck, everything hurt. Andrea nodded,

"I don't want you to. You have to if you want a swift recovery. I'll need one of your colleagues to deliver you meals every day and you can only get up to go to the bathroom or to go visit Doctor Kateb for the info and prescription." Tensions were still high in the room, making her feel somewhat awkward for not being able to do more to help, what with the limited equipment she had here. This wasn't a hospital, this was just as close as they could get to a hospital inside a building. No one there were only two separate buildings for the operators to dorm in.

Finally, Seamus accepted his fate with a low wheeze of a sigh. No need to fight nature, he was sure he could go right back to normal after those few weeks. He stood up from the examination table with a grunt and cringed when a surge of pain shot up his chest. Had Mike not been there, he definitely would have fallen to the ground and aggravated his ribs further. Mike frowned,

"No support whatsoever?"

"Putting braces would only hinder his recovery by limiting his breathing further," she informed, walking over to the trashcan next to the door, her foot pressing on the piston to lift the lid up, to which she threw the gloves in the bin and made her way back to the sink, "Which can and will lead him to developing Bronchitis or Pneumonia. We don't want that to happen." She said flatly, drying her hands on some paper towels, to which she threw them in the bin once she was done.

"Now, you four need to leave and bring Agent Cowden back to his bed so he can begin resting." James almost instantly took a step back in a bail from the responsibility. Of course he didn't want to be burdened with taking care of a 6'3 Scotsman. Mark now stood next to his teammate and slung his arm around his shoulder, offering Seamus extra support. Never mind that the breacher was in literal agony. Andrea watched them as they all left to go take care of the Scotsman, a sigh leaving once James closed the door. Good. Peace and quiet for hopefully longer than before so she could focus on her work. That she had to do back in her office.

Not as bad as she expected her day to go, honestly.

The Romanian quickly left the examination room, a hand rubbing at her aching hip. If only the medicine Gustave gave her actually worked properly, then she wouldn't be so slow and considered a speed level one. Then again, she did also wear a lot of gear so it was only fair she was slow on the field.

Her steps were quick to get her to her office, to which she grasped the doorknob and turned it to allow herself in. Alright, the smell of drugs was more faint now but still noticeable. Oh well, the only thing she could get in trouble for was smoking in her office. Nothing she should actually worry about. Walking over to behind her desk, she pulled her chair back and sat down on it with a huff, pulling out her phone and tossing it on the wooden desk, next to an empty coffee mug and some newspaper. Yes, she still read the newspaper. Leaning back in the chair for a moment to take a deep breath, Andrea sat back up with her back straight and muscles aching. Moving herself and the chair forwards, she pulled out a few papers from the drawer built next to the desk and began reading through them. Now to see who was in need of a quick checkup and who had already been covered by Gustave. Might as well text him to see if he had the list of those he was covering and those that had already been taken care of by the other on base medics. Grabbing her phone and unlocking it, Andrea selected the French man's number and texted him,

.: I'm looking at the files for my building and I need to know who hasn't been covered yet. Let me know when you're available.:.

With that, she put the phone on vibrate and slid it back to its previous spot, setting the files aside to take care of reports. There wasn't an awful lot she could do as a medic and God knows her hip was not going to let her move much for the next hours or so before she would need to get some food and maybe get a cup of coffee to skip sleep. Andrea read through the words quickly, setting aside those she deemed to be priority- such as health updates on the ones that had been on her team or recently came back from situations. Speaking of situations, Maxim and his team were supposed to be back sometime tomorrow and she had heard that they all had some sort of wound that needed to be patched up more carefully.

As she kept herself focused on the papers in front of her, half of her mind drifted off into her thoughts once more- this time all related to her schedule for tomorrow. Alright, so, the helicopter would arrive at around ten in the morning, an hour after breakfast was done. Then, she thought, she would need to call over Maxim and his team so she could give them a look over and patch any wounds that wouldn't be too threatening. If there was an emergency to be taken care of, then she would do so to the best of her ability and limited tools. Has she mentioned how much she hated being in this building? Well, now she has.

The medic set down the papers and checked her phone for a reply- nothing. He was probably busy or forgot to turn his phone off of silent. Maybe he was fucking his wife- who knew. Andrea couldn't care less about what he was doing so long as it was related to paperwork- the thing she despised with all of her heart. The thing she was doing right now.

Had she always been doomed to suffer in a chair, writing all day and dealing with morons?

The operator frowned and shook her head with a sigh, turning her gaze to the radio next to her. It was old, out of date and didn't work that well- but it had been her father's old radio and she'd be damned if she ever got rid of it. Pressing a button at the side to turn it on, she fiddled around with the antennas for a moment before rotating the widget to try and find a channel. Soon enough, she landed on a news station. Eh, better than nothing.

With some background noise active, Andrea grabbed the ashtray at the edge of the desk and brought it closer to her, reaching in her back pockets to grab a lighter and a box of cigarettes. Once the box was open, she bounced it a little to get the butt of a cigar poke out, to which she promptly grabbed and placed in between her lips while she closed the cigar box and put it back in her pocket. Now grabbing the lighter, her experience allowed her to almost instantly ignite the tobacco, setting the lighter aside after she had taken a puff to get it started.

Oh, that felt good. The rush of smoke leaving her lungs through her nose, making her feel alive even though she very well knew that she was slowly killing herself. There. Now that she was ready, she might as well work on these reports to get them over with as quickly as possible. She leaned forwards, taking a pencil in hand to start her work, while listening to the radio and also smoking- talk about multitasking.

Caught up in her thoughts and demise, Andrea hadn't even noticed the fact that almost two hours had gone by and that she was currently missing lunch. Huh. No wonder her stomach growled once in a while.

Mark, on the other hand, had noticed the Romanian's absence from the mess hall and had made sure to get both himself and her something to eat. Looks like the SAS needed to be skipped today so the medic wouldn't skip a meal and end up more of a bitch than usual. Not that he would actively call her a bitch, but everyone thought it and he had to admit, Andrea was a bitch sometimes. Balancing the tray with both plates in his hand, Mark rapped his knuckles on the door, knocking in order to ask a wordless question. No more than second later, an oh so familiar voice rang out,

"Come in." Ah, so she was allowing people to walk in after the confrontation she had with Mike earlier. Good to know. The Brit didn't miss a second either, entering the office (now devoid of weed, but filled with a smokey smell) only to find the Romanian in the process of smoking a cigarette. Wasn't she supposed to be the health nut here? At least the window was open wide. Mark scrunched his nose yet joined her at her desk, moving one of the chairs to be diagonal of her, to which he sat down after placing the tray on a free spot on the desk.

Andrea, getting the cue, worked quickly to clear up her desk space. By that I mean she just moved everything to the side and let a few things fall. Oh well, she would pick them up later.

"Thank you, Chandar." She hummed, almost feeling a smile tug at the corners of her mouth. But it would take a hell of a lot more to get her to smile, that she would make sure of. The Brit only offered her a friendly smile and took his own plate of food. Nothing too fancy, he had what was usually served on this day; a healthy amount of everything that was good. Not restaurant quality, but it was better than military food. Poor people had to eat from bags when they were deployed. No doubt Andrea had already done that before.

With the two once again plunging into silence in order to eat, Mark listened closely to the radio on her desk. It was somewhat old, it would static every once in a while and would stutter if the antennas moved even a smallest bit. He wondered why the Romanian didn't want to replace it with something more modern, that worked better. Plus, he couldn't understand the language being spoken- though he assumed it to be Romanian. Maybe a news channel of some sorts, she seemed like the type of person to listen to that instead of music.

"Is Baker calm now?" The sudden question took him by surprise, as he had been about to take a bite. Lowering the fork and closing his mouth, the man began to gesture with his hands once more,

'A little more than before now that Seamus ate and went to bed.' Good, that was good. Maybe he would be easier to deal with tomorrow morning, when Maxim was supposed to come back. Andrea nodded at the information and took another bite of the food, her brows furrowed. Just how much could she think about bad things in a day? Even when she had been stranded in Afghanistan with her shredded hip bone poking out of her flesh she hadn't been able to think as much as she was now. Eugh. Just thinking about that day made her scar ache even worse. Damn chronic pain and damn her memory for triggering phantom pains too. Now all of her scars hurt like the devil.

Soft tapping on the desk caught her attention- Mark was signing to her.

'How are your wounds?' He paused to allow her to answer. The woman glanced at him and then at her bandaged shoulder which had been covered by the white coat for some time now.

"There's just an ache left. I'll be back to normal by the beginning of next week." While maybe the bullet wound wouldn't have completely healed, it was deemed safe enough to go back to usual training. Plus, it's not like she always followed the instructions she would give to patients. Talk about hypocrisy.

Mark frowned and turned his brown eyes over to his food, awkwardly going back to working on finishing his plate. Well. This had just gone awkward rather fast. The curse of being as antisocial as he was. Woe was him.

Soft vibrating caught his distracted self, his attention locking onto Andrea's phone; which she had picked up and opened. Andrea raised her brows; huh, Gustave had finally replied.

.:The GIGN, GSG-9 and CBRN have been covered by me. Mégane and Jackson are taking care of the recruits and you have the SAS, Spetsnaz, FBI and the newest Australian recruits.:.

.:Alright, I'll see to it. When do the SASR get here?:.

.:In a month from now.:.

.:Understood. Thank you, doctor Kateb.:.

.:Pas de problème.:. Andrea set her phone back down after the last text, closing it and now fully focusing on the food in front of her and the company besides her. She held back the urge to sigh. So many things to think about, so little time to ensure they were done.

This was going to be a tough month, she was sure about that. Not only that, it was her turn to count the supplies at the end of the week and that meant an extra hour to her shift if everything went smoothly.

With time passing by quickly and lunch being over, Mark supposed he would take his leave now that Andrea seemed to be focusing more on her work than him. Typical. Saying no other words, the Brit grabbed both empty plates and stood up, walking over to the door. Before he left, he sent one last glance over his shoulder, brows furrowed in concern. All he saw was the woman wasting her short life at the desk.

When would she see past her mistakes?

A click of the door signaled his departure.

Long after she had begun her work, Andrea glanced up at the clock over the door. Hm. She supposed she could take a break. The woman sighed and leaned back in her chair, rubbing the back of her aching neck. Oh, she really needed a better chair. Maybe one that didn't feel stiff despite being made of leather. With a grunt, she leaned forwards and turned off the radio, picked up her phone and stood up, putting it in her back pocket. She resisted the urge to run a hand through her hair, in fright of disturbing it from the tight bun it sat in. The Romanian left her desk and walked over to door, her hand stopping just short of actually grabbing the doorknob. Her brows furrowed. And where would she go? Where could she be at peace from knowing that she had almost cost someone's life?

With a sigh, she opened the door and left, closing the door behind her and walking down the hall with the intent to leave the building to seek out the comfort of a close friend.

The outside wasn't much more peaceful either. The air cold, the sky gray and the surroundings humid, threatening for rain to start. Andrea's gaze left the sky and went back down to the asphalt road, sliding her hands in the pockets of her doctor's coat.

Luckily, the building was only a ten minute walk from hers, so she had gotten there in a matter of moments. She had also been left alone to her thoughts, left to lament in the knowledge of her recklessness.

After checking herself in, she rushed to the office of the one man who had been through hell and back with her.

Sergei. Her savior, really. The medic made her way up the stairs quickly, soon arriving to the floor his office resided in. There was an ache in her hip, annoying at best, frustrating at worst.

Finally, she stopped in front of her teammate's temporary office. She had gone around ten minutes of a walk to get here, the ache in her hip ever so present. As she stopped in front of the door, Andrea paused, her hand on the handle. What could Sergei do about her lament other than tell her that it hadn't been her fault when it very much was a lie? With a sigh, she twisted the handle and pushed open the door, running a hand through her messy hair.

Sergei looked up from his clipboard, startled that someone had walked in without an appointment. This was supposed to be his break, dammit.

"Andrea. You're back." He hummed, watching her carefully with his honey colored eyes as she trudged over to the couch and let herself drop on it, now taking up all of the space. Hm. She definitely wasn't airing too well. The woman hid her face in a pillow on the couch.

"You don't usually act like a child." He commented. A muffled moan was his reply. Sergei rose a brow, idly petting the cat on his lap with a hand.

"What's this about?" This time, Andrea lifted her head up,

"Take a wild fucking guess."

"We've talked about the language, Andrea." Said woman only grumbled and pressed her head back into the pillow. The ex-therapist leaned back against his chair and sighed deeply, bringing his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. Though after a moment, his brows knotted in concern. Oh, who was he to be mad at Andrea?

"Dea, you know that not telling me what the problem is isn't a good idea." He spoke softly- never having been one to raise his voice out of anger. Not even when he had caught his ex-wife cheating on him with a lawyer. He was much too soft to show anger for more than a few moments.

Andrea sighed deeply and sat up, crossing her legs and looking down at the floor.

"There's nothing you could do to help me, Ralu. You and I both know that."

"That's what you told me back in Afghanistan. But look at where you are now, Andrea. Thinking that all things are impossible is simply not true." He paused, the hand petting his cat also coming to a halt, making the Maine Coon chirp and look up in confusion.

"You're too close minded for your own good, Christoff. Every small mistake you do, you act as if it was the worst thing in the world. When was the last time you've had a good night of rest?"

Andrea paused.

"As I thought. Andrea, I'm speaking as a friend, " Sergei paused, standing up from his chair once he set the cat on the floor. He walked to the woman and sat down next to her, setting a hand of his on her back.

"You have to forgive yourself if you want to live." His voice was soft, worried. He knew the extent of how she could get if she delved too deep in her regrets. Andrea looked down at her hands, her eyes trailing the scars from her deployment. It was as if she could never escape the never ending loop playing inside her. Sergei's grip on her shoulder tightened.

He couldn't let her lose another hip.

It took no further coaxing for the operator to suddenly stand up and leave the room, exit the building and make the walk back to her temporary abode.

-/------\-

By the time it was night time, Andrea had already burned through all of her work and skipped supper.

Throwing the wrapper of the granola bar in the trashcan next to the door, she shrugged off her white coat and hung it on the coat hanger while opening the door, closing the lights before locking the door and walking off to the SAS dorms. It was early (in her standards) to be going to sleep, but so long as she went in before Mike did, she would escape a death glare and that was all that mattered.

Luckily for her, the dorms weren't too far from her office and allowed for her to arrive to her destination fairly quickly. Andrea ran a hand through her hair and wrapped a hand around the doorknob, twisting it in order to push open the door effortlessly.

Immediately, she was greeted with the loud snoring of none other than Seamus. Not to mention that the covers were halfway on the floor and that he hadn't touched the painkillers at all. Or even turned off the lamp. The medic sighed tiredly through her nose and walked over to the side of the man's bed, picking up the blankets and laying them down on him so she wouldn't have to stare at him half naked.

Not that she hadn't seen him naked before. Both sexually and professionally. Many would be surprised about the amount of people in Rainbow she had seen naked in order to do a medical exam.

Andrea shook those thoughts out of her head and looked back down at Seamus, inspecting him.

Once she made sure that he wouldn't kick off the blankets again, Andrea turned around and undid her belt, sliding it out of the loops with relative ease. Setting the leather belt aside on the nightstand, she reached up and pulled off her hair tie, allowing for her auburn red hair to fall loose on her shoulders. Tossing the tie away, the soldier walked over to the joint bathroom of the dorms and closed the door behind her. Man, she really needed a warm shower after a day like this.

Playing around with the shower for the right heat took some time, but eventually she found the perfect temperature and undressed, tossing all of her clothing into the nearby hamper and entering the shower, pulling the curtains to hide her naked form in case anyone came in unannounced.

Feeling every single water droplet drip down the crevasses of her scars felt weird, yet held a sense of familiarity to it.

She hated that.

Andrea tilted her head back and closed her eyes, relaxing within the steamy shower.

Around ten minutes or so, she turned off the water and pushed the curtain aside, stepping out and grabbing a towel to immediately wrap around herself. Taking in one last breath of the refreshing steam, Andrea exited the bathroom back into the shared bedroom, closing the light and door as she exited the room.

"Well aren't ye a sight for sore eyes." Hummed a thick accented voice, causing for her gaze to snap towards the source of the voice.

Ah, looks like Seamus had woken up. He must have heard her when she turned on the water from the shower.

"You should be resting, Cowden." She told him flatly, making her way over to her dresser to pick out some pajamas. Seamus merely whistled as he watched her pass by, mumbling curses while he sat up to get a better view of her (albeit covered) naked form. Ugh, men, is she right?

"Ah've done all me restin', lass." While not entirely true, he did get plenty of rest for the day and even if the pain he felt was absolutely agonizing, he could very well say that he had gone through worse in the past. Being an ex rugby player did come with its fair share of injuries, including past concussions. Andrea glanced over her shoulder with a blank face and a raised brow. She didn't believe him one bit. Turning back around so her back faced the breacher, she let go of the towel wrapped around her, letting it fall to her feet. Now, she was truly naked.

A wolf whistle was all she needed to hear to know that Seamus was enjoying the view. Such a sound made Andrea scoff and shake her head in an emotion he couldn't seem to detect.

"You're so immature."

"Cannae help it, lass."

"You've seen this all before. There's nothing to admire."

"There is if ye look hard 'nuff." Was everything sex related the only thing on the Scotsman's mind when it came to seeing her naked? She swore he gave her the same comment each time she would undress in front of him.

The Romanian put on her underwear and a shirt just the perfect size for her and turned back around, picking up the towel and throwing it to the other side of the room. Who cared if it was right next to the door? She was far too lazy to walk back into the bathroom.

Just as she was about to walk over to her bed, she felt a strong pair of hands grab her by the back of her shirt and pull her on top of their host. A small grunt escaped the soldier as she fell back against a body, barely having time to process it all before she was trapped on a bed, encased by a strong pair of arms with equally as strong man holding on to her.

"Cowden, you're only slowing down your recovery."

"Mmhm."

"Cowden. Let go."

"No." The denial was further enforced with a kiss to the crook of her neck.

"Seamus, I'm serious."

"So am I."

"You need your rest."

"Ye haven' slept in three days, Drea. Spoil an ol' soul like me jus' fer once?" Surprisingly, it was hard for her to resist Seamus when he used her own bad habits against herself. However, she was as stubborn as a mule; as the others would say.

"No. Let me go, Seamus." The arms around her didn't budge despite her hearing his somewhat labored breathing. He was hurting, understandably so. Dammit.

Fucking hell, why did she have to be with the one person who made her regret her actions more than anything? She'd thought that she could just walk in and sleep on Mark's bed for the while Seamus was healing. But no. Life didn't want to give her a break.

"Fucking- I said let me go before I try to struggle out of your arms." Her tone was becoming strict; a hint of desperation lacing itself in it.

The same tone she had used while talking to Eliza's suffering body. Seamus again only grunted in reply, his grip tightening. Still, she began gently trying to pry his arms off of her, to no avail.

"Kintsugi." His voice tore through the stiff silence, making the attacker in his arms freeze. "Fixin' pott'ry wit' gold. Could apply tae ye too, 'Dea. Always gettin' banged up, blaemin' yesel' an' only makin' your situation worse Eliza's stable, no?"

"Barely. Eliza almost died, Monika is out of field for the next week as you are, Emannuelle had to get a blood transfusion and you are--"

"Fine. I'm fine. Nuthin' more than a few broken bones." Andrea, finding that his grip had loosened, sat up with the use of her arms as support.

"Seamus, you're on fucking bed rest for the next six weeks! Those are vital bones-- do you have any idea what could have happened if-" Again, the strong pair of arms pulled her back down on the bed effortlessly. This time, Seamus buried his face in the crook of her neck; the part that held all the scars from previous fights.

"Ye can't keep fightin' fights on yer own all the time. C'mon. Lae down for a moment an' stay wit me for the night. spoil a man some, why don't ye?" Andrea frowned and sighed, relaxing her muscles. Oh, to hell with everything.

"You're insufferable." She muttered under her breath, shifting around so she was facing his broad chest. Her only reply was the grip on her tightening protectively.

"Aye. Ye still lov' me though." He hummed, leaning down to place a soft, loving kiss to the woman's lips. He didn't mind the way the scars along her jawline sometimes cut through her otherwise soft lips, he never did. Yet Andrea continued to believe that her scars made him pity her.

Breaking off the kiss, Seamus placed his chin on the top of her head and closed his eyes, his muscles loosening.

It wasn't long before the medic felt her eyelids grow heavy. No matter how much she tried to fight the drowsiness, they would simply droop back down for a few seconds before she forced them open again. Alas, she had never been good at fighting off sleep for longer than three days.

All it took was a simple kiss to the top of her head and she was out like a light, falling in a sleep deeper than any of her other slumbers before. Seamus too, soon joined her in her slumber.

Mark was startled, to say the least, when he walked in the dorms and found Seamus and Andrea cuddling on the same bed. He wasn't startled that the woman was in Seamus' arms, no, but rather that somehow she had been coaxed to even be near his bed at all. Shaking his head in amusement, the young adult went in for a short shower and came back out within five minutes, drying his hair with a spare towel before getting dressed in his usual pajamas.

It was late at night, no way was he going to stay awake any longer. The defender carefully squeezed himself on the shared bed on the other side of where Andrea lay, officially putting her in the middle of this cuddle sandwich. Sliding under the covers, Mark rolled over on his side to face the two sleeping people and wrapped an arm around the Romanian's waist, pulling himself closer. Hm, looks like Andrea forgot to turn off the lamp too. Reaching over, the Brit pulled on the short cord and laid back down once the room was engulfed in darkness, sighing deeply through his nose as his eyes closed.

The man leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, keeping his face pressed up against her bare skin, inhaling the sweet scent of the soap and shampoo she had as a guilty pleasure.

The smell of cinnamon sure was strong.

Mark settled his head back on one of the two pillows of the bed, shifting back into his thought for the last time of the day.

Tomorrow was another day, it could be boring or it could be filled with the best or worst things to ever happen in the world. They could be deployed all three at the same time or maybe even die. He could return to base all alone with no lover to greet him ever again.

But worrying on such things took too much energy out of him, made him feel more exhausted than he already was. Sure, he could stay with Andrea all day long, but Seamus also needed to be taken care of.

Exhaling deeply through his nose once again, Mark furrowed his brows and shifted closer to the woman, his muscles tightening ever so slightly.

Maybe tomorrow he could finally get her to eat with the others in the mess hall instead of the office. At least she allowed for him to stay this time!

It was a slow step towards recovery, but it was one he was going to welcome.

The Brit opened his eyes upon feeling the person in his arms roll over to rest on her back. In the midst of the dark night, his tired eyes only managed to capture the shadow of her form lay still once more, aside from the slow rise and fall of her chest.

Finally, he closes his eyes for good and sauntered off to sleep for some peace in quiet.

As strange as his life may be, he would never exchange it for anything else.

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kennettwrites · 5 years

Text

Summer Days

Summary: A simple day with friends, a picnic, and soft shows of affection between a witch and his tired, werewolf boyfriend. This is a short story set within my novel series, The Witch and His, as such some things will not make entire sense without novel context, but can be inferred from textual context. An enjoyable read even without knowing the novel.

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“You kids have been visiting the cabin less since spring started.” His mother comments. Her eagle-like eyes watch as he packs the picnic basket with the food he carefully prepared earlier.

He nods. “The cabin is pretty and we still love it, but the others insist on meeting in other places besides the cabin. Romeo thinks that it will become too monotonous if we only hang out there.”

Meredith hums thoughtfully. “They’re right, you know. I know the cabin is your pride and joy, but having other places to hang out is good for changing things up. Besides, I’m sure Romeo enjoys taking you to the club.”

Meredith all but cackles at the expression that crosses her son’s face. Cicero, on the other hand, plans to completely ignore everything about that statement. He’d like to forget those memories right now, please. He takes a moment to compose himself and then changes the subject.

“Ever since August built that table out at the lake it’s been much easier to say yes when they ask to go there. It’s beautiful during the summer time. I dare say, I enjoy it.” He admits.

His mother smiles. “That’s nice. Enjoy your time, dear.”

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The lake is out of the way, beyond even their cabin, and the only path there is the one they’ve made for themselves. It’s barely noticeable to the untrained eye, but they all know the forest like the back of their hand. There is no doubt in his mind that they could make the trip drunk. Plus, the view was to die for. None of them even minded the walk.

Cicero follows the faded, dirt path that leads to their spot. For a change he is not walking with either August or Elaina. Elaina had stayed the night with a friend and was arriving with Benny, and August was going to be late because he had to stay over and finish a bit of work for his father. It was a strange occurrence, but it allows him to contemplate and simply enjoy the nature around him. It was a lovely day and it would be a shame if he didn’t fully take advantage of it.

The picnic basket is a heavy weight in his hand but he finds it relaxing rather than irritating. Jasper used to bring food as well, but it’s harder for her to cook now that she’s, well, a ghost. In his opinion, Romeo was way too stubborn regarding the possession argument. It’s not like his girlfriend would do anything to hurt him. Still, he doesn’t fully mind making all of the food for their outings.

He hums to himself as he walks. Unlike Romeo’s obnoxious singing and other, assorted noise making, it is not a shitty pop song played at the club. Although Cicero will admit that they can be catchy, the tune he is humming is something more personal. Not that he would ever let the man know that he found any of the music from his short lived time as a “rock star” appealing. It would simply blow his ego up to extreme parameters.

He’s distracted from his thoughts by a flock of birds taking off a little ways off from him. He pauses.

For the briefest of moments he thinks Romeo might actually be on time. However, if that were the case, Cicero would already be hearing the vampire’s loud, obnoxious voice. If a single Romeo trips in the forest then yes, it does make a sound the whole town can hear.

He makes a logical assumption that it is an animal and continues on. However, the sensation of being watched does not go away. In fact, it only gets worse. The intent around him is focused, obsessive.

He closes his eyes as he walks, not bothering to give himself away by stopping, and extends his magic outward to find the source of his discomfort.

In hindsight, he feels a bit dumb. He should have figured it out sooner. That feeling is all too familiar to him, after all. Still, August was supposed to be late. Not early like Cicero always was. Cicero’s thoughts flood with questions, but he decides to play along with August’s game. He strolls on ahead, pretending to be blissfully unaware and caught up in his surroundings.

It feels like a decade of tense peace before August decides to make his move at the lake. A stick crunches under heavy boots as August leaps from his hiding spot. Without acknowledging him, Cicero elegantly steps out of the way. August attempts to skid to a stop before catching his own foot on an exposed root and tripping in front of the witch. Cicero watches him fall with a twisted sort of amusement.

“That was cruel, Cero.” August whines as he sits up. Cicero isn’t sure if it’s on purpose or not, but August fixes him with the puppy dog eyes that the Grimmwauld family is almost known for.

Cicero wants to tell him how adorable he is, but instead he rolls his eyes and says, “You’re too loud, August. Even a deaf buck could hear you coming a mile away. Perhaps next time you should consider not attempting to tackle me.”

August pulls himself to his feet and dusts himself off. “I wanted a hug. You know, that thing people do?” He pouts although his words carry a sort of cheeky haughtiness.

“I don’t like being touched.” A simple reply, really. Cicero hates it when others touch him. Even the touch of his own mother hurts him on the worst of days. Yet, August’s touch is never painful. Not that he would ever admit that; his pride would never return from that particular grave.

August beams. “Yeah, buddy, I know, and that’s okay. I’ll still try though ‘cause you’re worth it.”

Cicero snorts at their old joke and sets the basket down on the table. August’s gaze is immediately drawn to the dark oak basket. Cicero doesn’t have to imagine the wagging tail behind him. He clears his throat, pointing after he has August’s attention. “Hey, dog-breath, careful there.”

August looks at his tail before shrugging. “My control has been slipping lately. I’m not worried yet since I’m not like going feral or anything, but I mean… It’s understandable? I’m under a lot of stress right now. Besides, I’m tired and hungry. Very, very hungry.”

Cicero’s gaze softens. “Is it that bad?”

August shakes his head. “It’s not that. The Lestern family has been very amicable and they’re very easy to work with. It’s just,” he makes a vague gesture with his hand, “difficult to put pacts into effect without throwing both parties into disarray and it has been hard trying to find what works for both groups.”

Cicero had never truly thought about the bureaucracy that went into shapeshifter politics especially those that involved the Grimmwauld clan. Rowan had always had that under control and agreements were just made, and Cicero hadn’t had need to think of it beyond that. It’s been a lot more in his face now that August and his brother are being groomed to take their father’s place. He doesn’t know whether it’s a good or a bad thing yet. Either way, he doesn’t like it.

August attempts to open the basket without Cicero noticing, whining when Cicero smacks his hand away. “Wait for the others.” Cicero chides.

August bites back a complaint or whine -not that there was any difference between the two with August- and settles Cicero with a thoughtful look. “Anyways. What’s on the menu today, mister chef?”

“Bacon and tomato sandwiches, Italian pinwheels, five bean summer salad, watermelon slices, raspberry lemonade, and blueberry brownies for dessert.” He rattles off the dishes with little thought to how much work that actually went into it. Though their friend group did this often, Cicero took pride in the work he did and would gladly slave away in the kitchen if it meant seeing that toothy grin August always gave him when good food is involved. Plus, he typically found his joy in putting together plans and making sure his friends had a good time.

August grins. “Sounds amazing as usual, Cero.” He takes a seat at the picnic table and pats the spot beside him. Cicero hesitates for a second as he considers it before taking the spot. Grinning, August scoots closer to the witch until their thighs are touching. Cicero allows this contact even if it does make his anxiety rise three whole levels.

He coughs, embarrassed, and glances back at the dirt pathway leading to their meeting spot. “We still have to wait until Romeo and the others arrive before we can eat.”

August whips his head around, eyes wide and watery. Even though he looks like he’s on the verge of tears Cicero is more than aware that they are crocodile tears learned from his eldest sister. “But Romeo’s always so late,” He cries, “and I’m so hungry. I’m dying!” He throws himself over Cicero so that his head is in the witch’s lap. Cicero flinches, face quickly heating up, but he miraculously keeps his composure.

“Manners maketh man, mutt. A fact that you should be well aware of being a member of the Grimmwauld family. We will wait for the entire group to arrive before we eat and that is final.”

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It takes Romeo thirty minutes after their set meeting time to arrive, and he’s not even the last one to arrive. By then, August has fallen asleep using Cicero’s lap as a pillow.

Romeo raises an eyebrow at the sight. “Just one of those dog days, isn’t it?”

Cicero glares at him. “Don’t even think about waking him, lame-ass.” Rowan had been working his son to the bone lately. Considering the importance of the Grimmwauld-Lestern pact it’s understandable, but Cicero still worries about August. He needs all the rest he can get right now, and Cicero will be damned if he lets Romeo of all people ruin that.

“He’s going to be mad that you let him sleep through lunch.” Romeo takes a seat across from them. Jasper, bless her heart, floats awkwardly behind him. She takes a moment to look over the spread that Cicero has laid out on the table before turning to him. “The food does look good, Cicero. Too bad I can’t eat it.” She says, polite as always. Cicero gives her a gentle smile before turning an icy glare to her companion.

“We’re still waiting on Elaina and Benny. Until they arrive, you can be quiet and let August sleep. If he wakes up- I swear to the gods, Romeo, I will pluck every hair from your head and feed them to you. After that, I’ll turn you into a horrifically disfigured, naked mole rat so that you will never again find a date at the bar.”

Romeo blanches and swallows the stone in his throat. “Holy shit. You’re absolutely terrifying when you want to be, my dude. Yeah, sure, let him sleep.”

Behind him, Jasper giggles as he pats his head. “Are you checking to make sure it’s still there?” She asks. He huffs. “Of course. One can never be too confident around Cicero.” (He’s learned the hard way that Cicero is never kidding, and to always be ready to run. Friendship be damned when angry Cicero is involved.)

Appeased, Cicero relaxes. He begins to run his fingers through August’s unruly hair, humming a comforting tune as he does so. Romeo watches this with dark eyes and a heavy frown.

“If I say the obvious, am I going to be hexed into eternity?” Romeo asks, and Cicero shoots him a scathing look. Immediately, Romeo puts his hands out in front of him placatingly.

“Alright, alright, chill. I won’t say a thing then.”

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August wakes up with a grumble of murmured words. He sits up in bed. He pauses. The environment comes into focus and he starts blinking owlishly. “What the…” Cicero, nestled in the corner of the room like some oddball sort of creepy doll, looks up from his book. “You slept through lunch, so I floated you home.”

August startles. “I slept through lunch? And you let me sleep through lunch? What the hell, man.”

Cicero shrugs, closing his book. He stands. His joints make an discomforting creak. “You needed the rest. Besides, there’s no need to worry. I made you dinner and cleared your schedule with your father. I’ll loan you a pillow tonight.” August stares. “You did what now?”

Slowly, the man’s words begin to make sense in his head and he grins. He lunges from the bed in his excitement and wraps Cicero into a hug.

“You are the best! What did I ever do to deserve you?”

Cicero accepts the hug, smiling into August’s shirt. “I believe the better question is: what did I do to deserve you? I’m - in Romeo’s exact words - Satan’s bitch, and I’ve definitely done my best to avoid being friends with you.”

August laughs. “You might be a bitch, but if I didn’t like you I definitely would have spent the last thirteen years befriending another stubborn, magic wall.”

Cicero bites his lip to avoid giggling like a schoolgirl. “C’mon, dipshit. Let’s go eat dinner before it gets cold.”

If Cicero sequesters August away for another day after that and tries for a third then that’s his business. They both needed the rest and comfort in company. What could Cicero even say? He had a weakness in the form of broad shoulders and blinding smiles, and it hurts him to see August as exhausted as he was.

Of course it probably wasn’t a good idea to threaten to smite the teen’s father when he came to collect him. It is a very good thing Rowan is as good-natured as he was, having lived with his ex-biker wife for years now. So, all’s well that ends well, Cicero supposes.

#original literature #original writing #writing #writers on tumblr #lgbtq writers #lgbtq literature #fantasy #urban fantasy #lgbtq characters #witch #werewolf #monster boyfriend #mlm #the witch and his series #cicero clearwater #august grimmwauld #romeo de rosa #jasper abdallah

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dragon-temeraire · 6 years

Note

Stiles: "In twenty years, I will be Lydia's second husband." Lydia: "What will happen to the first?" (obviously Jackson) Stiles: "Nothing." (Poly AU)

I just realized I accidentally changed your prompt a tiny bit, oops! Hope you like this poly fluff! (On AO3)

He knows he probably shouldn’t say it. It’s late, and he’stired, and it’s been a nice evening with two people he really cares about. Heprobably shouldn’t mess that up.

He says it anyway.

“You know, in twenty years, I will be Lydia’s secondhusband,” he says grandly.

“What’s going to happen to her first husband?” Jackson askssuspiciously.

“Nothing,” Stiles says, smiling. “Maybe by then you’ll likeme as much as she does.”

He makes his escape from their apartment after that, managingto catch the perplexed look on Jackson’s face before he’s out the door.

The whole drive home, he wonders if Lydia will be mad thathe put his intentions out there. But he’s been pining for them for years, andhe just wanted both of them to be clear on exactlywhere he stood.

And if they tell him they’re not interested, he can starttrying to move on.

He hopes he doesn’t have to, though.

The fact that Lydia hasn’t called or texted him since thatnight is very telling. Clearly, he’s in some trouble, and Jackson’s probablyfreaked out. But he’s not sure what she’s going to do about it, either.

Still, he’s busy studying for mid-terms, so he tries to putit out of his mind and not stress too much. He can’t afford to fail a class,and what happens with Jackson and Lydia is out of his hands now, anyway. He hasto let it go.

Then, late Friday night, just when he’s just thinking aboutdragging himself to bed, there’s a noise at his apartment door. It’s less of aknock and more of a thump, and Stilesfeels a tingle of unease.

Either it’s a terrible burglar, or—

Jackson nearly falls in on him when he yanks the door open.And even if he hadn’t slurred out, “Hi, Stiles,” the smell of alcohol alonewould have clued him in on Jackson’s drunkenness.

“Hey,” Stiles grits out, looking up and down the hallway forsigns of anyone else out there—like Lydia—before wedging his shoulder underJackson’s arm and dragging him inside. He manages to keep Jackson from endingup on the floor, and gets him seated on the couch despite Jackson’s lack ofcooperation.

When he’s sure Jackson is going to stay there, he goes to shut and lock the front door. “You’re not ateenager anymore, Jackson,” he says on his way back. “I thought you were donegetting drunk like this.”

“I’m twenty-three, I’m not that old,” Jackson protests. “Buttonight, I—I was just thinking about you.” He tips his head back against thecouch, sighs. “You and Lydia together, really.” His eyes flick briefly Stiles’direction. “She talks about you, you know. A lot.”

Stiles sits down tentatively next to Jackson. “I don’t thinkyou have anything to worry about,” he says lightly, patting Jackson’s thigh.“And I didn’t intend to drive you to drink with my little confession, either.”

But Jackson continues, undeterred. “She likes you. She likedbeing with you, even though it wasonly supposed to be,” he waves his hand dramatically, nearly hitting Stiles inthe face, “a little casual fling, or whatever. I know she’d take you back, andI—”

Stiles waits for the rest of that sentence, but it doesn’tcome. “Jackson, you know I’m not trying to break up your relationship, right?”he asks, trying to be reassuring, but he can’t help thinking I’m just trying to wedge my way into it.“And I gave you a twenty-year head start, man. Fair warning and everything.Besides, you guys aren’t even married yet. So you really don’t have to worry, especially because you don’t even likeme—”

“I do, though,” Jackson interrupts, sitting up straight andtrying to look stern, before promptly slumping down against Stiles. “That’s theproblem,” he mutters, lips brushing against Stiles’ neck. “I do like you, andso does Lydia, so there’s no real reason for us not to—but I don’t know what I’m doing, Stiles. I’ve never beenwith a guy before.”

“What, really?” Stiles blurts. “Not even Danny?”

“Turns out I’m really nothis type,” Jackson slurs, then nuzzles deeper against Stiles’ neck. “You’rereally comfy. I want to stay here.”

Stiles has to fight his grin. “I’ll take that as acompliment,” he says, then mutters to himself, “But are you really into me, oris that just the alcohol talking?” He doesn’t want to get his hopes up toomuch.

“’Course I meant it,” Jackson grumbles, and it makes Stilesstartle. He’d thought Jackson had fallen asleep. “So you should really cut backon that, uh, twenty year plan.” Then he snuggles back in and goes quiet andlimp, letting out a contented sigh.

Stiles indulges himself for a few moments, running hisfingers through Jackson’s hair and kissing his cheek before wiggling out fromunder him. He makes sure Jackson is in a comfortable position, and leaves abottle of water for him before grabbing his phone.

“Your drunk boyfriend is here,” he says, as soon as Lydiaanswers.

“I know,” she says, sounding a little smug. “We had drinksat Hop Scotch tonight.”

“But you hate that place,” Stiles objects.

“I do, but it’s right across the street from yourapartment,” she explains, and Stiles begins to understand her scheme. “Ifigured if you really were interested in being with us, you should at least geta taste of Jackson at his worst.”

“I went to high school with him, I’ve seen him at hisworst,” Stiles says wryly. “Besides, he wasn’t that bad tonight, just kind ofcuddly and honest.”

“Really?” Lydia says, sounding genuinely surprised. “He’smore comfortable with you than I thought he’d be. Maybe he does have a crush on you.”

“I have no doubt,” Stiles says, grinning. “He just cameright out and told me. And he seemed okay with the idea of all of usbecoming…something together.” Then he has to fight back a yawn. It’s way toolate to be having this conversation.

“Maybe we should all get together and talk about that,”Lydia says thoughtfully.

“Tomorrow. When we’re all sober and rested,” Stiles saysfirmly.

“Of course. Have a good night,” Lydia says. “And by the way,Jackson likes to be kissed in the morning, it helps him wake up.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Stiles says neutrally.

Lydia makes a little noise of confirmation, then hangs up.

Stiles stares at his phone for a long moment, his brainsleepily trying to process the idea that he might get everything he’s beenwanting, before he gives up and heads for bed.

He wakes up at some point in the night to the sensation ofhis bed moving, and blinks his eyes open to find a dark shape lifting up hiscovers.

“It’s just me,” Jackson says, sliding in next to him.“Thanks for the water, I feel a lot better. I was just getting kind of cold outthere.”

Stiles winces, realizing he could have left Jackson with ablanket. Jackson’s minty fresh breath wafts over him as he settles in close,meaning he found the spare toothbrush Stiles left out for him. He idly wondersif he should move to the couch, butthen Jackson makes a soft, content noise as he snuggles up against Stiles’side, and Stiles suddenly can’t bring himself to go anywhere.

He doesn’t expect to be able to sleep with Jackson’sunfamiliar weight pressed against him, but to his surprise he drifts right off.

Jackson is still asleep when Stiles wakes in the morning, sohe cautiously eases out from under him and heads for the kitchen. He’s halfwaythrough a cup of coffee when Jackson takes the chair next to him, scootingclose enough to drape himself across Stiles’ back, cheek nuzzling against hisshoulder.

“You really are comfy,” Jackson says in a half-asleep sortof way.

“Apparently,” Stiles says mildly, setting his mug down onthe table. He dips his head and turns just far enough to be able to catchJackson’s lips with his own.

Jackson makes a pleased sound, sitting up a littlestraighter. By the third kiss he’s looking far more awake, and Stiles is verymuch enjoying the soft contact of Jackson’s lips. He could do this all morning.

“I see you took my advice,” Lydia says smugly, and Stilesstartles hard.

He’d forgotten he’d given her a key to his apartment,because she’s never used it. She’s been waiting for the opportune moment,apparently.

“Um, yeah,” Stiles says, watching Lydia pull out a chair andsit across from them, looking as beautiful and composed as ever.

She clearly hadn’t had much to drink last night, unlikeJackson.

“You boys have a nice night?” she asks sweetly, and lookspointedly at Jackson.

When Stiles glances his way, he’s surprised to see a blushon Jackson’s cheeks. He’d never really imagined Jackson to be the blushingtype. Especially because they hadn’t done anythingexcept some cuddling and sleepy morning kissing.

“I did,” Jackson says, clearing his throat awkwardly. “It wasreally nice.”

“Good,” Lydia says, folding her hands together as she looksat them both seriously. “Jackson, would you like to date Stiles?”

Jackson’s eyes dart between him and Lydia, like it’s somesort of test. “Yeah,” he says firmly. “I would.”

Lydia nods. “And I’m very sure Stiles would like to date you. I already know he’d like to dateme,” she says, smirking.

Stiles can’t argue with any of that. And apparently, neithercan Jackson.

“So, that’s settled,” Lydia says with the ruthlessconfidence Stiles so admires. “Stiles, I think you should spend the rest of theweekend with us at our apartment. It can be a trial run. We can see how we allfit together.”

Stiles is definitely not going to turn down a weekend withher and Jackson, especially when he’s pretty sure things will go well. Andright now, the promise of a possibility is all he needs.

“I’ll pack a bag,” he says, and doesn’t miss the way Jacksonand Lydia both smile.

#jydia #jackson/stiles/lydia #stackson #pining #fluff #my fic #Anonymous

288 notes · View notes

yourhero404 · 6 years

Note

Hellooo, requests open, right?💛💜❤ Soooooo can I request scenario 'seven minutes in heaven' with Yoarashi Inasa and Shishikura Seiji, please???? Can you make it long, if it's not hard?:3 But if it's hard you can not four so long

A/N: I can do my absolutebest!! I made it as long as I could without dragging the story onunnecessarily! Hope that’s alright with you ^^

INASA

It was a get togetherin order to celebrate everyone passing their hero licensing exams- well, almosteveryone.

You felt bad for thegigantic boy, his energy seemingly drained after finding out he hadn’t passedand nothing you did had cheered him up. The two of you had spoken a bit aboutit- he wasn’t the type to keep quiet after all- and he had admitted thatsomething else was bugging him rather than just his failure. Before actuallybeing able to tell you what had him so downcast, the two of you had been ropedinto the circle of people playing the game you never expected yourself to play-7 minutes in heaven.

Unsettlingly quick,you found your hand being stuffed into a backpack by a friend, your fingersrunning along a variety of objects everyone had to toss in just moments before.Your fingers brushed across a familiar object as a gentle smile graced yourlips- you could totally handle sitting in there with him, it was like fate!Pulling out the goggles Inasa threw in there, you cheered a bit to try and gethim to smile; You couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled up your throat ashe lit up for a moment, racing you to the designated closet.

Once the door wasshut, the high energy dissipated a bit as you could feel the aura around himshift awkwardly. You decided to bring up the conversation from earlier to helppass the time.

“Sooo… earlier,you were talking about what was depressing you so much before you were cut off.What was it? It’s not like you to let something like this knock you down!You’re always looking forward to the next chance! What’s so different thistime?” you asked, straining to see the expression on his face with thelittle slimmer of light that came from under the door. You watched him shiftuncomfortably before his normally loud voice came out as barely a whisper.

“I had youcheering for me this time…” he whispered before slamming his faceunnecessarily hard into his hands to hide his shame. “I was supposed to doeven better this time! Because I had you wishing me luck and everything!Instead I got in that stupid fight ‘cause I can’t keep my mouth shut and-”he took a moment to let out a long sigh, “I just wanted to impressyou…”

Your heart wasn’tquite sure what it should do- shatter into pieces at how sad his voice soundedor flutter and race right out of your chest over his slight confession. With asoft sigh and your mind made up, you scoot closer to him, running your hands upunderneath his own in order to replace them and pull his face closer to yours.His expression twisted from despair to surprise the closer your faces became;his eyes were as wide as can be, searching your face for any indication ofdeeper interest.

His eyes became lidded,watching your own close the moment your lips pressed softly against his. All hecould do for a moment was study your face, watching as a soft blush started tospread across your face; He succumbed to the feeling and pushed aside his previousdismay as he eagerly kissed back, making sure to keep it as soft as you had. Beforeyou knew it, a flip had been switched in him and he was full of life. Stillbeing as gentle as he could, his hands began to wonder down your sides andacross your lower back, stumbling and landing on your hips rather than lower- wherehe was thinking of holding. You leaned in closer, your body against his chestas your emotions soared, your brain finally agreeing with your heart in amoment of bliss; you’ve held feelings for him for a while and seeing him upsetas well as hearing his confession caused your body to move without muchthought- not that you were complaining.

You started to deepenthe kiss, turning your head to the side and moving to wrap your arms around hisneck to pull yourself closer to him. Fervently, his arms wrapped around yourwaist, lifting you up to his height which caused your legs to wrap around hisown waist. Just as you moved to nibble on his bottom lip, the door flung opento reveal your friends- some of them giggling and others muttering a soft‘finally’ under their breath; you broke apart and gave your friends adisheveled stare, Inasa kept his love-struck gaze on you instead.

“Ahaha, uh, hey..guys.. I guess 7 minutes are up?” you asked, an embarrassed blush plaguingyour skin. With a groan, you attempted to drop out of his arms but stared inconfusion when his grip on you tightened.

“The minutes are up inhere, but not if we leave to a different closet!” he announced, hurryingout of the closet with you in his arms. He had a large smile plastered to hisface- the look in his eyes was eager and full of affection; it was a betterlook for him than the downcast one it held before.

Just like his quirk,the two of you were suddenly caught up in a whirlwind of romance, and you wouldn’t haveit any other way.

SEIJI

“Why in the world would I bother going to some dumb party?”

Seiji scoffed, he was actually appalled that someone would bother asking him to attend some party- did any of them know him at all? Apparently not, or they wouldn’t bother to ask, knowing that his answer would be no.

“What if I told you (Y/n) was going?” Now that… that piqued his interest.

He’d tried getting your attention a few times but each time he tried to have a normal conversation with you, he came off pretentious and you always turned your nose up at the idea of speaking to him. He knew his pride got in the way of gaining your affection, let alone your friendship, but seeing it first hand had stung a bit. Okay, he lied- it stung a lot, which is why he was planning on at least attempting to be nicer and more relaxed; Which meant attending this party was the first step.

And step one was completed. He stood in the doorway with a disgusted look on his face- his peers all stumbled from room to room, pushing into each other and yelling about god knows what, it was too crowded for his taste. Pushing through swarms of people, he searched for you and your mutual group of friends and almost decided to leave until he noticed you surrounded by not only friends but people he didn’t recognize. Waltzing right up, he took his place next to you, observing the conversation a moment before you turned your focus on him.

“Oh, hey Seiji. I didn’t expect to see you here,” you smiled in disbelief.

“What does that mean,” he muttered, watching your face twist to one laced with annoyance. “I-I mean yeah, I thought joining the fun would be… fun…” he stumbled his recovery. Smooth.

“Well,” you face softened, he liked that, “Yeah! These parties can be kind of fun. You just have to know how to avoid all of the overly drunk people,” you warned, eyeing a particularly gone pair of people stumbling past the two of you.

They reeked of alcohol and caused the both of you to scrunch up your noses as you leaned into him to get away from their reach- an action that caused him to tense up as he felt his skin grew hot from the blush that spread across him.

Unfortunately for him, that seemed to be the repetitive action of the night. Every time he found you leaning against him or even in the close vicinity, his body would lock up and turn red- minus the times he had to stutter and struggle to save himself from being mean. Each disapproving look you gave him caused him to stumble over his words and double back to complimenting the person in front of him or agreeing to the authenticity of his joy towards the party. This exchange worked for a while, until someone decided to shove some sort of bag in his face and demand he put something in it.

“It’s for a game Seiji! Just dooo it!” they slurred- he recognized the voice to be a friend of theirs and begrudgingly complied.

He leaned towards you, asking why in the world he had to put something in and started to get nervous once you explained the rules of the game- 7 minutes in heaven. He frantically tried to retrieve has watch from the bag, refusing to participate in such a game- that is, until he realized your hand was the first one choosing. He stared so intently at the bag that it was a wonder it didn’t catch fire- his mind was racing, repeating time after time hoping that your hand would connect with his watch; Luck was apparently on his side as you pulled out the metal accessory and held it up for him to see.

“Oh, look! I guess you and I get to spend some time in there together,” you joked, laughing a bit before heading to the closet. His motions were stiff and robotic as he followed suit, awkwardly stumbling forward as the door shut behind him.

It was a smaller closet than originally thought- he was practically hovering above you as your back pressed against the wall- the air between the two of you was warm which he assumed was due to the growing blush across his features. After what felt like forever, your whisper broke through the awkward silence.

“So…” you started, “Why did you bother coming to the party anyway? Or play this game- or come in here with me of all people at least.” Your tone of voiced caused him to frown.

“Well I’m so sorry I decided to show up to something,” he huffed, attempting to turn away and leave the closet, but was coaxed into staying where he was by the soft grip you had on the side of his shirt.

“Calm down, I was just asking. You’re allowed to go to whatever party you want. It’s just… it’s not really your scene. So why show up?”

He looked as intensely as he could into your eyes despite the dark surroundings, watching your gaze turn utterly confused. It was obvious he was going to have to tell you- you weren’t one to just drop a subject and leave it alone, and he admired your persistence, it typically worked out in your favour. He stuttered a bit, trying to get the words out but only getting frustrated the longer the silence lasted. He had to build up his courage and take initiative if he wanted to pursue a relationship with you- you weren’t the type to let people half-ass their emotions with you.

“You want to know why I came to the party? Think about it,” he started to lean in closer, swallowing hard, lips hovering ever so slightly above your own. “Do I ever do things without reason? What would my reason be to show up? Or to bite my tongue all night, trying to be… nice. You’re smart,” he teased, lips now grazing your own, “Figure it out.”

Your eyebrows drew together as you tried to find meaning behind his words. He only seemed to snap into the overly nice routine when you approached- you knew no one could change that vastly overnight. Suddenly, everything clicked; the blushing, the way he’d tense when you grew near- he wanted this just as badly as you did, and you were done playing. With a smirk that caused his eyebrows to raise, you grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him down enough to meet his lips, your own moving against his roughly until his initial shock subsided and he was able to return it.

He immediately tried to fight for dominance, grabbing at the sides of your shirt as leverage as his head turned to the side to deepen the kiss. The dominance was yours, however, when you gently bit his bottom lip so your tongue could gain entrance and explore his mouth, lacing one of your hands in his hair to give it a small tug as well.

The two of you broke for air, both groaning in annoyance as someone pounded on the door to announce a 30 second warning before they threw the door open. In the remaining time, there was an unspoken spark between the two of you- one that he’d be sure to explore with you later- that passed between your eyes. In no time flat, he regained his composure and walked out of the closet, head held high by his pride and a false sense of dominance radiated off of him.

You were sure to shut it down by giving a gentle pat to his butt, his body stiffening and that reoccurring blush taking over his face once again; you laughed to yourself.

This night was surely going to be more fun than you originally thought.

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dassala · 6 years

Photo

In Focus

Rated M - Chapter 5/? (Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4)

Emma Swan’s CEO fiance Graham Humbert has hired a wedding photographer to capture every aspect of the wedding planning process. Killian Jones usually hates these stuck-up, spoiled rich brides he captures on film, but Emma is different.

Disclaimer: This fic contains elements that may be squicky or disturbing to some of the CS audience. I want you to know that both Emma and Killian have sexual relationships with other characters in this fic (NOTE: NO SMUT). They also both get very drunk at different times throughout the story. So if you have an aversion to alcohol abuse (especially as a crutch), and you can’t stand the idea of Emma and Killian being with other people, this may not be the story for you. However, that said, you should know that I never write CS fic without a happy ending. :) So if you can stick it out, I promise satisfaction.

@awkwardnessandbaseball is my most incredible beta! <3 Thank you so much, lovely!

Read it on AO3

“I can’t believe I’m letting you talk me into this,” Liam Jones muttered, fixing his collar as he stared into the mirror. He was dressed in a grey button-down and a pair of jeans. With a heavy sigh, he turned to his younger brother and held out his arms. “Acceptable?”

Killian nodded and ran a hand through his hair. He was not quite dressed, but was getting there. Tonight was Emma’s bachelorette party. It was difficult to think that she was having this party when she wasn’t even totally sure about Graham. He dabbed on a bit of cologne and turned to grab his own shirt, a heather blue v-neck tee. He pulled it over his head and fussed with his hair a second more.

“Killian,” Liam began, leaning against the door frame in his brother’s small bedroom, “you don’t think she’s actually going to leave this guy for you, do you? She’s still going on with everything.”

He stayed silent for a moment, rather than answer. Turning, he pressed his lips together in thought. “I want her to be happy. If she’s happy with him then so be it. If she can’t take it anymore with him, I...I want to be there for her. I want to be the one she comes to.”

Liam shook his head. “This is a recipe for disaster. How do you pick these damaged women?”

“I can’t help it,” Killian groaned. “They’re drawn to me, it seems.”

“Damage begets damage,” Liam muttered and picked up his wallet. “You ready?”

Emma looked up from her eyeshadow palette, sweeping some smoky grey across her lash line. “Is this going to be awkward for you?” She asked as she dolled herself up for a night of partying.

Ruby shook her head and wrinkled her nose. “Nah, he was cool about it. I think maybe he’s got a thing for someone else, too. He didn’t seem fazed at all.”

Pausing, Emma tapped her brush on the side of a jar. Since Ruby was definitely over Killian, and she was Emma’s best friend, the only thing she could do was let it all out. She had to tell someone, or she would absolutely explode. Looking up at her friend in the mirror, she paused, then turned to face her.

“Rubes, I need to tell you something.”

After some pre-gaming with the girls at Emma and Graham’s apartment, the ladies piled into a limousine and took off for the bar, where they were to meet up with Killian and his friend. Ruby’s date was also set to be there.

The first stop of the night was a swanky martini bar. Ruby led the way as the ladies entered.

A thin, gorgeous woman with Asian features and a black braid down the center of her back greeted them inside the door. She was petite but somehow statuesque in a floral maxi dress with 60s mod accessories. Emma beamed and offered her hand. “Mulan, it’s so nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much,” she nudged a blushing Ruby, who slid her hand into Mulan’s free one.

“Pleasure is all mine, Emma,” she smiled in return, “Thank you for inviting me tonight.”

“No problem!” Emma giggled and gestured to the bar. “Shall we?”

As they approached the bar, Emma spotted Killian across the room. She waved, beckoning him over.

“Easy,” Ruby muttered into her best friend’s ear, “you’re kinda drunk so don’t say or do anything stupid, okay?”

Killian and another young man stepped over. “Ladies, good to see you,” he smiled to Emma and the girls, “this is my older brother Liam.”

“Not...not that much older,” Liam corrected him, clearing his throat. They all greeted one another and agreed to ordering a round at the bar. Killian carried his camera bag on his shoulder, lifting his lens to take a few snaps here and there as everyone dove straight into the festivities for the night.

Emma slid into a round booth near the back of the bar. Ruby was quick to supply her with a lemon drop martini and scooted in next to her. “So?” her Maid of Honor asked.

“She’s beautiful, Rubes...Wow,” Emma beamed and nudged her friend. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Yeah, not what I was asking about,” Ruby drew in a deep breath and seemed to force a smile. “Do you think you can behave when you’re drunk like this? I want you to have a good time, but maybe I should suggest that Killian leaves?”

Rolling her eyes, Emma took a swig from the sweet and sour cocktail. “I’m fine. I’m in love with Graham. I’m marrying him soon.”

Ruby nodded, eyes glued to Emma. It was obvious Ruby wasn’t going to let her out of her sight for the evening.

Across the room, Emma spied Elsa leaning casually against the bar. Killian’s brother had made his way to her and was chatting her up. Good for Elsa. She was always so uptight and conservative as it was, very much the opposite of her younger sister Anna.

Killian stepped up and snapped a few photos of the girls as they squished closer together in the booth. He laughed at their attempts to look casual, making silly faces at one another.

“Alright, alright, look here,” he coached them, getting down on his knee to get the angle right. The girls all leaned in, smiling brightly at the camera. Emma pursed her lips and winked.

Killian paused after taking the photo. He cleared his throat and backed away slightly. “Thanks, ladies,” he turned back to the bar.

Ruby gave Emma a look.

“What?!” She sighed, “I can’t make a kissy face at the camera?!”

“Was it at the camera, or was it at the poor, suffering photographer?” Ruby muttered.

Rolling her eyes, Emma finished her martini and placed the glass down. “Another!”

Having decided they needed a more casual atmosphere to let loose, the group piled into a limousine and traveled down the road to a sports bar Emma liked to frequent with Ruby in their “younger days". In the car, Emma found herself squished between Killian and Mulan. She glanced over at him and giggled. “Sorry,” she muttered, doing her best not to press him too hard into the front partition.

“Nah, no problem,” he grinned back at her, “better me stuck here than the bride.”

“Right,” she tapped the gaudy tiara Ruby had insisted she wear. It flickered with tiny LED lights and sparkled in the mood lighting of the limousine.

“So, does your brother live here in town?” She asked him, clawing desperately for something to talk about besides the fact that her uplifted cleavage was practically in his face.

“Yeah, he moved here to help me through my divorce, and I can’t get the bugger to leave,” Killian grinned. He scanned down the row in the limo, then lifted an eyebrow, “Seems to be enjoying himself tonight.”

“Hm?” Emma turned to see Liam engaged in deep conversation with Elsa at the end of the limo. Their hands were intertwined on her lap. Her jaw dropped slightly. Elsa was the most timid of all of her friends, and the fact that she would display any affection publicly was telling. “Oh my.”

Lifting his fingers to his lips, Killian managed a loud wolf-whistle from his end of the limo to theirs. Liam turned to his brother and raised an eyebrow. The elder brother seemed annoyed, to say the least. Elsa blushed and released her hold on his hands. Liam took the opportunity to shoot a rude hand gesture to Killian.

“How many more bars?” Killian asked with a laugh.

“As many as we want!” Ruby shot back. She glanced at Emma and gave her a look. “Ems, you wanna check in with Graham when we get there?”

Emma shook her head. “No, I don’t. Thanks, though, Mom…”

Ruby sighed and returned to her chat with Mulan. The two young women shared a low conversation and small kisses as they bounced in the raucous limousine.

“Mulan is nice. Not who I pictured for Ruby, but hey...whoever makes her happy, right?” Killian beamed.

Happy. Emma nodded and smiled awkwardly. “Yeah, she’s great. I’m happy for them. Ruby is more serious about her than she’s been with the last four guys.”

“Gee,” Killian laughed and rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Sorry?” She laughed. “You’re amazing. You’re more than amazing. Your ex was an idiot, and you are going to find the most...incredible girl.” Word vomit. Stop, Emma.

She watched him as he stared into her eyes. He was quiet, the bass of the music in the vehicle pounding in their ears.

“I…” he stammered and looked away, going red all the way up to his pointy ears. God, she desperately wanted to nibble on them.

She knew he had to feel the same way about her. Emma felt her chest tightening and she looked away, clenching her fists. This was so unfair. Why now? Why when she was weeks away from being married? This made it all too difficult.

“We’re here!” One of the bridesmaids shouted. The piled out of the limo and made their way into the crowded bar.

Emma quickly pulled away from Killian and strode inside. She slammed her credit card onto the bar. “Tequila for my people!”

“Ems, maybe you should slow down,” Ruby hissed into her ear, “you’re gonna burn out or do something stupid.”

“I’m fine!” Emma shouted, raising her arms. She gave a wiggle of her hips. “This is MY party!”

The shots were poured. Dances were had. Everything started to get more and more blurry. Emma jumped and spun and shimmied on the dance floor. She laughed, dancing wildly with a complete stranger she'd met there on the floor. Spinning and spinning.

Holding up a hand with a chuckle, Killian refused the tequila. He sat on a bar stool and watched as Emma had what seemed like the time of her life. Liam had pulled Elsa to a quiet corner, and Mulan was putting the moves on Ruby as she danced alongside drunk Emma.

He had to keep some of his wits about him. One of them had to be a responsible adult, right? He pulled his phone from his pocket, flipping to a message from Liam.

Message from Liam: Holy shit little brother I'm in love

Killian laughed and replied.

You're drunk. But I can tell you like her. Good for you. If you forget to get her number I'll ask Emma for it later.

He placed his phone down and ordered a glass of water. His phone buzzed on the bar top.

“Jesus, get off your phone and pay attention to-" he froze as he lifted the device.

Message from Milah: I miss you.

Not again. He drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes. Another message came through.

Message from Milah: I’m in New York. I want to see you.

His chest clenched and he was suddenly dizzy. The glass of water came sliding across the bar. Looking up at the bartender, he sent it back.

“Double Bourbon, neat.”

Two more drinks down and he was stumbling to the bathroom. He pushed open the door to the men’s room and leaned against the sink. The water came icy cold from the tap. Perfect. He slapped handfuls onto his face and neck, breathing. In his mind’s eye be could see her dark, soulful eyes as she told him she needed to “live more". She meant, of course, that all of the deepest love and mind-blowing lovemaking in the world couldn't keep her happy - but money could.

Emma leaned against a bar stool, wobbling slightly on her feet. She was just about done with her heels. Had they not been Louboutins, she probably would have chucked them into the garbage twenty minutes earlier.

“Water, please,” she groaned to the bartender, hating the fact that she was throwing in the towel on drinking for the night. Seemed wrong to cut herself off at her bachelorette. Wasn’t that Ruby’s job? Glancing around the bar, she searched bleary-eyed for Ruby. The tall brunette was in a corner with Mulan, where they seemed to have found the perfect spot to make out. Emma shook her head. It was nice that Ruby was enamored with her new partner, but geez. Get a room.

The water came across the bar and Emma took three hurried gulps from the glass. Her body was aching for hydration, to be sure. Tomorrow would be a rough day.

After downing the remainder of the glass, she wobbled again as she turned. The bar stool was a swivel-type, and it was increasingly more difficult to hold herself up whilst leaning against it. Where was the damn bathroom? She’d been to this bar about a hundred times, but somehow, she couldn’t remember where she needed to go to tinkle. She giggled to herself. Tinkle.

Shuffling off toward a corner, she was relieved to see a ‘Restrooms’ sign. She leaned against the first door and stumbled in, allowing it to slam behind her.

Inside, Killian was bent over the sink. The room was dark and dingy, with fading green tiles and sketchy-looking stalls. It smelled overwhelmingly of urinal cakes. She blinked, realizing she was in the wrong room. But goddamn if he didn’t look amazing in that moment. He was wet, having splashed himself with water from the sink. She stood for a moment to gather her bearings, watching him.

How could she deal with never knowing? What if she married Graham and then...that was it? She would be pinned in this bland, lonely life forever. Forever wondering what could have been. And she never would know what those lips tasted like. Now or never, Emma.

The bathroom door opened, then slammed shut. He looked up at himself in the mirror and caught a sparkly reflection behind him. There was Emma. She had lost her tiara and she was covered in a sheen of sweat, but she was staggeringly beautiful in that moment.

“Emma,” he breathed and turned to look at her.

She stepped forward and grabbed his collar. With a sharp yank, she pulled his body against hers and crushed her lips to his. He could faintly taste watered-down tequila and a hint of a fruity lip balm.

It was instinctual, the way he pulled her close. His arms were first around her waist, and then suddenly his hands were under her firm, supple ass, lifting her up against the bathroom door.

Emma’s hands tugged at his shirt. She held him close, the collar stretching out in her grasp. The room spun, dimly lit with a flickering fluorescent bulb. Her nails scratched over his chest as she parted her lips to accept his wanting tongue. She ground her hips against his crotch, moaning deeply.

And just as fast as it had started, he pulled away. He settled her to her feet and backed a good distance from her. He was wrecked. Amped up, hard as a rock in his tight jeans, chest heaving, Killian was a mess. He ran his hands through his hair.

“No,” he exhaled a deep breath and drew in another, “no, I won't do this to Graham. And I won't do it to you. You're marrying him.”

Emma stared at him, dragging the back of her hand over her lips.

“I'm so sorry,” she whispered, as she leaned against the bathroom door for support. “I shouldn't have...we...we shouldn't have.”

“Even if things weren't like this, Emma, even if you weren't getting married...not like this.”

She seemed to be lost in thought for a long moment. “Nobody will know.”

He hated that she intended on keeping a secret from her husband-to-be. He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Tell him. Don't have any secrets. I'm leaving New York as soon as I can, so I won't even be a problem.”

“Because of me?”

Killian shook his head, swallowing hard. “You're just one of many reasons.”

There was a knock at the bathroom door. Emma jumped slightly, but stepped out of the way. A man entered, looking a tad befuddled.

“Sorry, mate. She's leaving,” he gestured out the door. Emma gave him a lingering look, then wobbled out of the restroom.

Before long, he was leaning his temple against the cold window of a cab. Street lamps surged and then faded in his peripheral as the cabbie drove him home.

Upon reaching the docks, he stumbled down the gangplank and onto his boat. As he stepped inside, Roger whined and went to him, his tail wagging low.

“Hey,” he patted the dog on his head and walked to the bedroom.

Flipping on the light, he stopped in his tracks. Milah sat on his bed, her hands folded in her lap.

“Hi,” she said quietly.

Emma stumbled out of the mens’ room and into the ladies’. She sat against the tiled wall and buried her face in her hands. Not only had she just ruined things with Killian, but she may have also screwed up any chance of staying with Graham.

His kisses tasted like whiskey and salt. His hands were firm, yet gentle. She closed her eyes, remembering the way he ground his hips against hers as her back pressed against the cold, hard metal door. What would have happened, had he not stopped? Would they have fucked right there in the bathroom?

Ruby walked into the bathroom and paused, seeing Emma on the floor. “Oh, thank God, there you are,” she sighed and leaned down to offer her hands to her best friend. “Mulan and I lost track of you. Are you sick?”

Emma shook her head and took Ruby’s hands, wrapping her arms around her and sobbing into her shoulder. “I kissed him.”

“Emma,” Ruby groaned. She rubbed her back slowly and held her close. “It’s ok. Let’s get you home, alright? I saw Killian hailing a cab a few minutes ago so you don’t have to see him again tonight.”

Emma nodded and sniffled, taking Ruby’s hand as she was led from the restroom out into the continuous party atmosphere of the bar.

Liam offered to get Elsa back to her hotel. Ruby shot him a look of warning as they left. Elsa was quite obviously impaired from a few too many amaretto sours.

“On my honor, Miss Lucas,” Liam promised. She nodded and climbed into the limo, leaving the pair to walk down the street hand-in-hand.

Ruby walked Emma into the penthouse apartment and helped her out of her dress. Mulan ran a hot bath. Emma sank into the tub, leaning her head back upon the edge. While Mulan parted out of decency, Ruby stayed and sat with her friend.

“Are you gonna tell Graham?” She asked, looking at her hands. Emma knew she couldn’t ask Ruby to keep the secret for her. It wasn’t fair.

“Yes,” Emma whispered. “He wants me to tell him.”

“Killian?” Ruby raised an eyebrow. “I know he’s an honest guy, but this could lose him the payment for shooting the wedding photos.”

Emma turned her head to look at Ruby. “I don’t know if I can go through with this.”

“You need to think about it when you’re not wasted,” Ruby stood and grabbed a towel from the nearby rack. She placed it next to the tub. “I’ll turn down your bed and get you some pajamas. We’ll chat more tomorrow, okay? Mulan and I are gonna crash in your guest room.”

Emma nodded. “Thank you.”

Once she was settled into bed and the lights were out, Emma turned to her phone. She looked at the last text she’d had from Graham, who had offered to stay in a hotel for the night.

Message from Graham: Have fun, baby. I love you.

#cs fic #cs mc au fic #captain swan #in focus #chapter 5

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amiandthechaos · 6 years

Note

Amalia! I love you to pieces for all this!

“I am not going to let you do this!”

Ron grabbed both Harry and Hermione by the arms and pulled them back towards the bar where he was standing.

They turned to him, stumbling slightly and looking offended.

“Why not?” Harry asked while Hermione scoffed.

Ron rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Because you’re both about to go and hit on Draco Malfoy and I feel like it’s my duty to stop you.”

“Listen, Ron,” Hermione tried to lean sideways with her elbow on Ron’s shoulder, but he was so much taller that she looked ridiculous. He held back a laugh. “We’re just going to go over there quickly and settle this. I say Draco’s straight ‘cause he’s been looking at me all night.”

Ron shushed her because the bar was definitely not as big as she thought.

Harry leaned on Ron’s other side. “And I say Hermione thinks he’s been looking at her when clearly he only has eyes for me.”

Ron looked over their heads at the blond sitting by himself at a booth at the end of the bar, nursing a whiskey and looking thoughtful. He sighed. “This is going to go so wrong.”

“Why?” Hermione asked, finishing off her drink with a grimace and then placing the empty glass on the bar behind her.

Ron rolled his eyes. “Because you’re both drunk and stupid.”

They shrugged their shoulders and then continued to look at Malfoy. Harry suddenly burst out laughing.

Hermione started giggling just by looking at him. “What?” she asked, amused.

“C-can you imagine if,” he stopped to laugh some more. “If he wasn’t looking at either of us but at…at Ron?”

Hermione started laughing loudly as well, covering her mouth with her hands and doubling over in laughter. “We would look so stupid!” she mumbled through muffled sobs of mirth.

Ron narrowed his eyes at them and cursed the moment he said he’d remain sober to apparate them all back home.

He gave them both a rough shove, pushing them away from the bar and towards Malfoy. “Go make fools or yourselves, I don’t even care.”

They gave Ron amused looks before walking away. At least he’d have something amusing to watch while he didn’t drink.

Draco watched with interest as Harry Potter and Hermione Granger approached him. They were both clearly more out of it than he was, which would make it all the more entertaining.

“Hello,” they both chorused when they reached his booth.

“Good evening,” Draco told them politely. “Care to sit down?”

Hermione and Harry looked at each other and then sat together in front of him, wearing secretive smiles.

“So…” Draco started, wanting more than anything to see the surprise on their faces. “You’re wondering if I’m gay or straight?”

Harry seemed to choke on his own spit while Hermione looked at him in awe as if he had worked some kind of magic on them to figure that out.

“How did you know?” she asked, her eyes open wide.

“You were practically shouting it at the top of your lungs while you downed firewhiskey shots,” he explained. “Not even Weasley’s common sense could shut you up.”

Harry and Hermione turned to look at Ron, who had a satisfied smirk and was holding a glass of sparkling water which he held up as if toasting to them.

They both turned slightly red as they looked back at Malfoy. He was smirking too.

“If you really want to know,” he said, taking a sip of his drink and considering them calmly. “I think you’re both going to have to seduce me and see what happens.”

The two people in front of him seemed like they couldn’t decide whether he was joking or not, and for almost a full minute they simply looked at him and then at each other, conflicted between laughing and looking serious.

When Draco remained quietly sipping his drink and giving them challenging looks, they eventually caught on that this was not a joke.

Harry’s hand left his own drink and with much more subtlety than Draco had given him credit for, he touched Draco’s fingers with his own and maintained a searing eye contact. “Alright.”

A shiver ran down Draco’s spine and then he was startled by something rubbing up and down his leg under the table. He looked at Hermione who tried to appear innocent while she almost made Draco blush, without even using her hands. “Fine by me.”

At first, Draco thought it would be amusing to watch these two drunk Gryffindors awkwardly attempt to make a move on him, but the more the night went on, the more he realized he had made a terrible mistake. The sudden challenge seemed to wake them up from their graceless inebriation, and nothing about the way Hermione leaned in to whisper in his ear or Harry casually touched his arm was funny. Now he was tipsy, flustered, and trapped between two people he was desperately and increasingly attracted to.

He finally snapped when Harry mentioned that his place was right upstairs.

“I’m bi!” he exclaimed, probably way too loudly. He looked around at the rest of the bar, mortified that anyone had heard. Thankfully, Weasley had gone when he realized how hot and heavy everything was getting, so no one else who knew him was there.

Hermione and Harry didn’t react the way he’d thought, though. They were taken aback, yes, but mostly, they seemed nervous. They shared a look unlike the others they’d shared that night. There seemed to be something meaningful behind that look, and that something made them suddenly timid, and Draco could have sworn they scooted a few inches apart from each other and averted their eyes as soon as they could.

Something clicked in Draco’s mind, and now he was seeing it all as clear as ever. Yes, they were flirting with him, but it wasn’t as competitive as Draco had thought it was. They hadn’t just been trying to win him over separately, they had been enjoying seducing him together, and suddenly those furtive glances between them didn’t seem so innocent anymore.

Maybe their shared interest in Draco had made them realize they also fancied each other. And when he declared he was bi, he made real the possibility of the three of them, and not just Harry or Hermione with Draco. And they were scared.

This was an interesting development.

“You’re both equally good at seducing, I must say.” A plan has already formed in Draco’s mind. Because he now knew that there was no better way than manipulating these two than by challenging them. “I wonder who would seduce the other first?”

Hermione laughed nervously. “Don’t be silly.”

“We know what you’re doing,” Harry said, looking down at his hands and shaking his head. “Just drop it.”

They went from being completely carefree and flirtatious a few seconds ago, to looking like they’d rather be anywhere else but there. Draco immediately started missing the spark in Hermione’s eyes and Harry’s bright smile, so he realized right then that if he wanted any of this to work out, he needed to help them see what was clearly in front of them.

“If I’m not mistaken, Weasley’s probably out there waiting for you.” Draco nodded towards the entrance of the bar. “I think you should go with him.”

Harry lifted his head and blinked at Draco. Hermione stared too. For a moment they almost made him break his resolve; he wanted to stay longer with them (and if he was honest he really wanted to take them back to his place) but this was better for now.

“But I’d like to meet you for coffee next Friday,” he continued, trying to ignore the slight nervousness at the prospect of being rejected.

They smiled at him and his heart lifted.

“Sure.”

“That’d be nice.”

Draco leaned forward in his seat, giving them his version of an enticing look. “But don’t be drunk, and don’t be late.”

They all said goodnight and Harry and Hermione left the booth. Draco looked over his shoulder as they were about to open the door and saw that their hands were brushing together as they walked.

“And don’t bring Weasley,” he added right before they exited.

#merry christmas lisa #bless you for sending me dramionarry #i love them so much #i hope you like it #and i hope you have a wonderful christmas #dramionarry #draco x hermione x harry #mine #drabble #christmas drabble #hp triads

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officialswagdracula · 7 years

Text

Swagelizer by JessiKat17

AN: I started writing this at like 1 am and didn’t reread it that much so there could be a lot of errors. The reason Drac is acting all drunk is because I took the notion that vampires can get blood drunk if they have too much at one time. I like the idea. Also I might start writing more of these. It feels like there is a nice thing blossoming between Sattelizer and Dracula, don’t you think? ;)

CH1 - The Eyebrow Fancy

It’s late. Dracula has just finished a Q&A with his fans and is about to call it a night when his phone rings.

“Hello,” Drac yawns.

“Hey buddy! You’re still up,” a familiar voice chimes from the other end.

“Satt? What the-” Drac grabs his phone. “It’s like two in the fucking morning. What do you want?”

“I’m gonna pick you up, I’m hungry.”

“Satt! IT’S TWO IN THE FUCKING MORNING!”

“Great, I’ll see you in like 15 minutes?”

“What? No! I need to sleep god danmet! And how do you know where I live?”

“First off you are a creature of the night, you sleep during the day and secondly it’s not important.”

“But-” before Dracula can finish his thought the line clicks. “What the fuck?” Drac sighs to himself. He shakes his head. “Whatever, I guess I’ll go put pants on.

After dressing Drac sits on his sofa and waits for Sattalizer. Ten minutes pass by and Drac begins to nod off to sleep. The sound of banging startles him awake.

“I swear I didn’t drink her blood,” Drac shouts in a slight panic.

The banging gets louder. “Drac it’s me! Open up!”

Drac groans and goes to swing open the door.

“Hey dude!” Satt smiles wide and pulls Dracula in for a hug. Drac hesitantly hugs back. “So,” Satt begins breaking the hug. “I found this really cool place I have been meaning to check out. It’s called Night Owl, but it’s only open late at night – obviously – and I wanted to take someone with me. I feel weird going out to eat alone. Seeing as you are a creature of the night – bleh bleh bleh bleh – I thought you would be perfect to take.”

“That’s great buddy, but, uh, I’m a vampire,” Drac states a little confused.

“Yeah,” Satt exclaims. “Creature of the night. Perfect.”

“Well yeah but-” Drac pauses hoping Satt catches on. Satt just stares at Drac happily. “I don’t eat your food…” Again Drac hopes Satt understands and again Satt just stares back. “I only drink blood you fool!” Drac snaps at Satt.

“Drac I got you covered! Come on.” Satt heads towards his car. Opening the door, he pauses and looks back at Drac who is still standing in his doorway. “You coming?”

Drac stares at Satt confused. “Uh, yeah sure. Just let me lock up.” Drac closes and locks his door before making his way to Satts car. “So when you say you have me covered…. What do you mean?”

“Cooler in the backseat” Satt says as he turns over the engine.

Drac opens the backseat door and takes a peek inside the cooler. “What the fuck?!” Inside the cooler lays bags of various blood types sitting on top of ice. Drac picks one up. “Where did you get these?”

Satt turns around to look at Drac. “That doesn’t matter. So I wasn’t sure what blood type you liked so I got them all. Oh! I also got you this…” Satt feels around the backseat floor and pulls up a thermal. “Here. You can put it in this while we’re out.”

Drac grabs the thermal. “Uh, thanks…” He just stares at it for a moment. “Won’t it be weird if I go with you and don’t eat anything?”

“We’ll just say you’re on one of those juice cleanses or something.” Satt sounds so sure of himself. “Now come on,” Satt turns to face the front again. “Let’s get going.”

Drac grabs a blood bag and hops into the front seat.

“So where is this place,” Drac asks draining his second bag of blood. “We’ve been driving for like twenty minutes.”

“It should be right… here.” Satt pulls up to a small establishment, a hole in the wall type place. It is tucked in the back of several big stores. Several people seem to be jammed into the small place.

“Are you sure this is the right place?”

Satt pulls out a crumpled flyer. “Uh, yeah. It said it was small. But I didn’t think that many people would be here.” He throws the flyer into the back of the car and starts getting out.

Drac just sits there a little awkwardly.

“Are you coming or not buddy?” Satt drums the hood of the car. He seems really excited to try out this new place.

“Uh, yeah,” Drac stammers. “Lemme just fill up this thermal really quick okay?” He holds up the thermal and shakes it.

“Oh yeah, totally. I’ll see you inside.” Satt shuts his door and practically skips into the establishment.

Drac, feeling a little buzzed from the two bags of blood he just drank, fills up his thermal. He tightens the lid and just stares at the blood bags. “Fuck it, it’s going to be a long night.” Drac rips open another bag and chugs it down. He tosses the empty bag into the cooler and slams it shut. He takes a deep breath, wipes his mouth to get rid of any possible blood dripping, shuts the car door and walks into the small food place.

The place smells of a glorious mix of foods and spices. It’s jam packed, ever table filled. A small Asian woman approaches Dracula. She is wearing black pants, a black shirt with a small owl emblem sewn onto the right shoulder, hair in a neat ponytail, and a warm smile on her face.

“Hi,” She greats happily. “Welcome to The Night Owl, can I help you?”

Drac looks at her up and down. He can smell the small hint of floral perfume she is wearing. The sound of her pulse begins to thump loudly in Drac’s ears. Dracula’s mouth begins to salivate.

“Dracula!” Satt shouts from the back of The Night Owl standing up to make sure his friend see’s him.

“Yeah,” Drac says snapping out of his trance. “I’m here with him, so I’ll just-” He scoots past her and makes his way over to Satt.

An hour passes as Satt and Dracula laugh and joke, Sattelizer enjoying his meal and Drac getting seeming more and more drunk.

“Isn’t this place great?” Satt says laughing slightly.

“I have to admit,” Drac starts, sounding a little slushed. “I was bit irritated when you called. But this is fun.” He takes another swig from his thermal.

“You okay Drac,” Satt asks a little concerned. “You sounds a little, drunk.”

“Yeah, I have like four bags of blood?”

“Four bags of- But how does that make you drunk?” Satt shoved the final spoon full of his cookie ice cream dessert into his mouth.

“So,” Drac starts. “For vampires drinking a large amount of blood at one time can sometimes make us a little drunk.” He pauses and looks at the hostess making her rounds. Satt starts talking but it begins to drown into the background. All Dracula could hear was the sound of her pulse beating in his ears. The smell of her blood began to fill his senses, a smell that wasn’t there earlier. He looked down at her hand that had a cloth wrapped around it. She must have cut herself recently.

“DRACULA” Sattelizer snapped. Drac looked back at him.

“What?”

“Man are you okay? You were just starting at that pretty little Asian lady like she was your next meal.”

“What,” Drac chokes embarrassed. “No I wasn’t.” He takes a sip from his thermal and slouches down in his chair.

Satt looks over at her and notices the rag over her hand as well. “She’s bleeding, isn’t she?”

“Pft, no.” Drac tries hard to shrug it off.

“You know what, I’ll pay and we can get out of here.” Satt pulls out two twenties and places them on the table. “Come on Drac, we don’t need you accidentally killing you someone.”

“I would never,” Dracula says getting up from his seat. “I’m going to go talk to her really quick though.” “Wait Drac- and there he goes.” Sattelizer face palms and walks towards what he is imagining is going to be a strike out.

“I hope you enjoyed your meal,” The hostess says to Dracula as he passes her.

Dracula turns around and looks at her. “I did very much,” he looks at her nametag. “Jenna.” His black eyes meet her big brown eyes. “Would you like to go and get a bite sometime?”

She smiles and blushes. “Well aren’t you the forward type.” She flips her ponytail behind her shoulder. “Maybe next week?”

“Actually,” Drac placed his hand on her shoulder. “I was thinking we could go out now.”

The smile Jenna was holding faded slightly. “But I’m working.”

Dracula maintains eye contact. “Not right now.”

“Not right now,” she repeates.

“Shit,” Satt says to himself. He quickly makes it over to Drac and Jenna before Drac is about to lead her out the door. “Hey,” he says a little out of breath. “Where do you think you two are going.” Sattelizer looks at Dracula as he speaks.

“We’re going to go out” Jenna says flatly.

“What the beautiful lady said.” Drac smiles down at Jenna, focusing on her neck.

“Actually I think you are going to stay here,” Satt grabs Jenna’s hand and pulls her towards staying in The Night Owl, “and you,” Satt glares at Drac, “Are coming with me.”

“Okay, okay” Dracula says a little annoyed. “I need to do something first.” He grabs Jenna’s hand and looks at her. “You are going to work hard at your job and forget this interaction ever happened. Now get back to work.”

Jenna looked around a little confused at the two of them and then walked back to the hostess stand.

“What were you doing?” Satt beings to scold as they get into the car.

“What?” Drac groaned as he got into the passenger’s seat. “She smelled really good. I mean she was bleeding for crying out loud. How was I supposed to resist that?” He slams his door and turns around to get another back out of the cooler.

“No!” Sattalizer smacks Dracula’s hand away from the cooler. “You are cut off buddy. Don’t even think about it.” He glares at Drac in a serious tone.

“I’m so scared,” Drac mocks.

The car ride back was twenty minutes of silence. The streets were practically barren except for the few homeless and tweekers that roamed around.

Sattelizer finally drives up to Dracula’s home and they both just sit there for a bit.

“Do I need to help you inside?” Satt sounds very annoyed with Drac.

Drac looks down at his hands. “No. And I’m sorry.” He looks over at Satt who is looking back at him with surprise.

“What do you mean?”

Drac scoots a little closer holds his gaze with Sattelizer. “I need to tell you something. But you can’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Satt repeats a little flatly.

Drac reaches a hand to Sattelizers face. “I really do love your eyebrows, even if I give you shit about them.” Drac traces a finger across Satts eyebrow and then down to his bearded face. “And the facial hair makes you look good.”

“Drac I don’t under-” And just the Drac lunges forward and kissed Sattelizer passionately. At first Satt is startled but then lets himself enjoy it. Drac begins to pull away and Sattelizer tries to pull him back.

“No, no” Drac says, sounding stressed. “Look at me,” He holds Satts face so it faces him. “You cannot tell anyone this happened.”

“I cannot tell anyone,” Satt repeats.

“Epecially not Bryce.” Drac pause. “Fuck! Bryce! He can NEVER find out, do you understand.”

“Bryce can never find out.”

“Good.” Drac lets out a sigh of relief. “Now I have to go,” he kisses Satt one more time. “Remember not to tell anyone.

“I won’t tell anyone.” Satt smiles as Drac gets out the car and walked up to his door. “Goodnight!” He shouts out of his window.

“Goodnight my love” Drac shouts back. With that he is inside.

Sattelizer just sits there for a moment, trying to go over what just happened. “He likes my eyebrows,” he says happily to himself. “He really likes my eyebrows.” And with that Satt starts his car and drives home.

#swag_dracula #submission #fanfic #swag dracula #dracula #twitch #youtube #streamer

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hereshowitgoesoncewewinand · 7 years

Text

Prompt!

Here you go, I kind of went off on a tangent but I hope you like it. I’m sorry it took so long, I will be getting to all prompts I swear. (If you want to send me a prompt then send me a number and a ship plus any other detail if you specifically want the fic to be about something!)

62: ‘you’re bleeding all over my carpet’

University wasn’t at all what Davey thought it would be like. For starters, he hasn’t formed a bond with his roommate that would last a lifetime. He hasn’t gone to loads of parties and gotten drunk. And he hasn’t missed home as much as he thought he would. The last problems weren’t too bad, he didn’t particularly like drinking and going to parties, and although he felt guilty, he’d much rather have fun than be homesick all year. The first problem however, was big. It’s not that he doesn’t have any other friends, he’s managed to get to know quite a few people in his zoology classes, and has spoken to some people who live on the same floor. It’s that his roommate never seems to be fully clothed. He’s barely spoken to the guy except when they first introduced themselves. Since then, they’ve had one or two conversations, but they’ve largely just smiled and gone back to studying or sleeping.

Anyway back to the no clothes problem. Jack, his roommate, seems to hate the idea of wearing a t-shirt end of, and doesn’t seem to be keen on wearing trousers either. He’ll walk out the bathroom after having a shower with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, and stay that way for hours, or until he has to leave the dorm. As soon as he walks into their shared room, his shirt comes off revealing his toned chest, insinuating that he spends much more time in the gym than he lets people think. And he has no worries about letting Davey, someone he doesn’t know anything about, see him fully naked either. He’ll wake up and get changed right there in front of Davey, like he wants Davey to have a heart attack.

Davey likes to think that if they got a bit closer he’d feel less awkward with having Jack practically naked, although there always seems to be a little voice in the back of his head telling himself that it’ll only make it worse.

That night Jack had gone to a party at this guy called Spot’s dorm. Davey didn’t know anyone there so he refused the invitations and instead began his essay for his next assignment. Jack had a habit of having one night stands when he gets drunk so Davey wasn’t worried about Jack coming back any time soon. Maybe that was the reason he had his shirt off, that, combined with the fact that the AC had stopped working and it was unusually hot and stuffy in their dorm.

Times must’ve passed by quicker than Davey thought because before he knew it Jack was stumbling through their dorm. Davey didn’t even look up, just mumbled a small ‘hey’ and went back to typing. When he didn’t hear Jack move again, he quickly glances around the room and saw Jack standing in the middle of the carpet, two black eyes, and multiple cuts all over his face and arms, as well as bloodied knuckled, and a bruised jaw.

‘What the hell happened to you?’ Davey all but shouted at the sight in front of him.

Davey raced towards Jack’s side and immediately put an arm under Jack’s armpits in an attempt to guide him towards a chair.

'Jack you have to sit down, you’re getting blood all over my carpet’ In response Jack began to hobble over to the chair, not trying to hide how much he was staring at Davey’s chest.

Davey repeated his initial question again, this time to be greeted with an answer.

'Well’ Jack’s words were slightly slurred 'there was this girl who was eyeing me up and I figured she looked alright, so I went over to her to start flirting and this dude came over, ya know, the one I hooked up with a few nights ago?’

Truthfully Davey had lost count of who Jack had slept with and when.

'Well anyway, he came over and was suuuuuper angry and started screaming and shouting and he punched me here’ Jack gestured to his jaw, which was now even more bruised than before, 'then the girl slapped me, but see, this is the bad part, she was wearing a ring you see, then I kinda blanked out’.

The ease of which Jack was explaining what had happened shocked Davey, he was so calm while talking about a fight he had, Davey could never imagine himself being that cool and collected after getting beaten up. Regardless, Davey figured that Jack couldn’t look after himself in the state he was in and debated whether he should call Mush and get his opinion on what to do, after all, he is the one studying medicine. Deciding against that, Davey took it upon himself to get Jack cleaned up. He went into the kitchen after telling Jack to stay put, and made a glass of water, got some aspirin, and picked up their emergency first aid kit.

He put the aspirin and water onto the table beside Jack. And opened the kit.

'Drink Jack, you’ll regret it in the morning’ Jack complied, swallowing the pill and downing the water immediately.

'Now, hold still, I’m gonna disinfect the cuts, it might sting a bit’ although Davey wasn’t sure about that, depending on how drunk Jack was, he might not feel anything at all. Davey brought his hand up to the cuts on Jack’s face and gently wiped away the blood, Jack hissed at the touch, but remained still.

'Ya know Davey, you have the best eyes I’ve ever seen’ Jack was lazily smiling, clearly still intoxicated.

Davey blushed at the compliment but forced himself to concentrate on Jack’s wounds. He could get over his crush later. Davey grabbed another wipe and began on Jack’s other cuts. Jack, however, wasn’t finished complimenting Davey.

'Hey Dave?’ 'Hmm?’ 'How did you get so toned?’ Jack was still smirking, and this time he brought a still bloodied hand up to Davey’s chest, before Davey grabbed it, exclaiming he could do without a bloodstained chest.

Davey wiped Jack’s hands and cleaned his knuckles, before stating that he can’t do anything with Jack’s bruises or black eyes except putting ice on it.

While Davey went to the freezer to find something to put on Jack’s face, Jack moved to get onto his bed, not before taking off his shirt and shoes. When Davey returned to their bedroom, he was met with a sight he wasn’t expecting, Jack shirtless on the bed, and his breathe hitched in his throat, dammit Dave, he thought to himself, get a grip.

'Um here’s your uh ice’ Davey handed the ice to Jack and moved to get into his own bed. He had been lying down for about ten minutes, almost asleep when Jack broke the silence.

'Hey Davey? Thanks, I uh, probably shouldn’t’ve gotten into that fight’

'Don’t worry about it, you’re welcome’

After that Jack must’ve gone to sleep because he didn’t speak again until morning.

Davey awoke and turned on his bedside lamp and was greeted by a groan from Jack who rolled over the pulled the pillow over his head. Somehow in the night Jack had lost his trousers and boxers as they were now strewn over the floor, leaving Davey with his imagination to guess what was left on Jack’s body.

'Sorry, I’ll get you another drink and some aspirin’ Davey was met with a mumbled noise, he vaguely heard a thanks. When he came back into the room, Jack was sitting upright on the bed, although clearly still very hungover. Davey placed the water and pills on the side and stood there awkwardly, not wanting to make a lot of noise incase he made Jack’s headache worse.

'Thanks. For this. I mean, and last night, I uh don’t really remember what I said. I remember having a fight, and walking home, and you helping me. But I can’t remember details. Did I say or do anything embarrassing?’ Jack said smiling a bit, but still in pain.

'Nah not really’ Davey was about to drop the subject, when he remembered how Jack had complimented him. Wasn’t it true that whatever drunk men say is their secrets when they’re sober?

'Well, actually’ Jack groaned as his mind went wild with the different possibilities of the embarrassing thing he had done.

'You said I had the best eyes you had ever seen, and you asked how I got so toned’ Davey was expecting Jack to be at least a little embarrassed, he would’ve been if it were him. But Jack just smirked again and at up straighter.

'Ya know Dave, they weren’t lies, you do have the best eyes I’ve ever seen, and if I remember rightly, you are really toned for someone who sits inside and reads all day. Oh and you also have this amazing smile, and your hair is just so fluffy that it makes me want I run my hands though it, and you-’

'Alright, Jack, I think you still might be a little drunk’ Davey nervously laughed, desperately trying to stop the blush that was creeping up his cheeks.

'Nah I’m not’ there was some awkward tension in the air as neither Jack nor Davey really knew what to say next.

'Dave? Come here? Please?’ Davey moved to sit on the edge of Jack’s bed, before scooting closer when Jack signalled for him to sit next to him.

Davey thought Jack was going to say something, maybe tell him that it was all actually a joke and that he didn’t believe what he had just said, and that Davey was being an idiot to believe someone as great as Jack Kelly would actually like him. What Davey didn’t think was going to happen but did, was that Jack closed the gap between their faces, pressing their lips together, while grabbing Davey’s hand to pull him even closer.

Davey was paralysed. Yeah he’d kissed someone before, but it had never felt like this, he wasn’t expecting something as simple as kissing to short circuit his brain, causing him to forget which way was up. It was a few seconds before Davey was grounded enough to realise that, oh, I should probably kiss back. Jack beginning to pull away, but Davey leaned forwards to recapture their lips, causing Jack to make a sound of surprise, but to ultimately lean back into Davey, this time his hand going to cup Davey’s cheek.

They sat like that for what to Davey felt like forever, but was in reality only about 15 seconds. Until Jack’s hand moved up to Davey’s hair, gently running his hand through it. When Davey moaned slightly at the touch, Jack took that opportunity to use his tongue, causing Davey whimper even more.

Davey, wanting to get Jack back, put his hand into Jack’s hair as well, although, instead of just running his hand through it, he lightly tugged at the roots. This, it turned out, had a great effect on Jack Kelly. The once confident and cocky Jack, completely melted away, being replaced by a moaning mess. Davey was about to repeat the action when Jack’s phone alarm went off.

Jack immediately pulled away, sighing and apologising. When Jack checked his phone, he jumped out of bed, and ran across the room towards the bathroom. Leaving Davey to sit there blushing and smiling as wide as he ever has. Wondering what had just happened.

Jack ran out of the bathroom, clearly having hastily gotten dressed, mumbling something about almost missing an important lecture. He kissed Davey again, this time it was quicker and less needy, pulling back before either of them got too invested again.

'I swear I’ll be right back up as soon as it’s over, I just really can’t miss it, I’m really sorry. Trust me, this is not how I want to spend my Saturday mornings, with you would be so much better.’

Davey blushed and leant in to give Jack another kiss on the lips before pushing him away.

'Go and get your degree Jack, I’ll be here when you come back’ Jack smiled and ran out of the room, leaving Davey alone once again to try and screw his head on straight.

#javid #newsies #prompt #jack kelly #davey jacobs #david jacobs

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perhapshomo · 7 years

Note

we need a smadsby oneshot

Sans has two hands

wordcount: 4853ship: smadsby (grillby/sans/mad ghost)ao3 link: [x]

He thought the topic was over after Sans discussed the matter with Grillby. He thought it wouldn’t come up anymore. Not even only because, well, it wasn’t important anymore, but especially because that topic was still pretty awkward to address.

But now they were drunk at Mads place, because Sans could barely stand going to bars anymore and took any chance to get drunk somewhere else that he could, and they were lying on the ghost’s dirty couch. It looked like Mad found it at the junk yard one day, thought, ‘Hey, this one ain’t that bad of a shape yet,’ and just brought it home with him. Then again so did almost anything in their house that wasn’t Quickstab’s and Napstablook’s room.

But what did the couch matter when they were drunk and drinking and laughing at nothing, at the white noise the TV offered and they were just having a good time. They were, was the cue though, because then Mad decided to say,

“hey, shrimp?” His voice sombered up a bit. Sans roused a bit surprised.

“yea?”“Remember that time we, er… we kissed?”And, well, yes. He did. And it sent a cold shiver down Sans spine, because he almost wished he didn’t. He hadn’t been in a good place that day, and things had just been awful all over. He wasn’t in a good place now, but he wasn’t holed up in his room anymore, so really he couldn’t complain.

“wha’ ‘bout it?” Sans asked cautiously. He wished he hadn’t.“Wha’ if… What if it had meant something?” The ghost asked and it was a hypothetical question, yes, but you didn’t just ask those kind of questions out of nowhere. You just didn’t.“mads,” Sans replied, and he put everything he had in him together to try and not slur those words. “i have a boyfriend.”

“Right,” the ghost replied. He wasn’t frowning, he didn’t look surprised or sad in particular. “Was just kidding anyways.” But disappointment was practically dripping off his voice.

Sans was lying on top of a broken car at the junk yard when he brought their conversation up. They didn’t spend as much time on the junk yard as they used to. Grillby knew Sans couldn’t stand it and when they did go there, it was usually either because of Mad Ghost or because Sans insisted he was fine.

Which he couldn’t really say he was. Not when the stench in his nose reminded him so much of when it happened, of the time he was pushed into a bag of trash, was forced to swallow it, because what option did he have?

But he couldn’t keep letting people know when he was freaking out, he couldn’t keep making people worry, so he bit his tongue and powered through it. Although he didn’t really, didn’t he. Grillby seemed to be still just as aware of whenever Sans’ mind spiraled anywhere he didn’t want it to, because the small grounding touches, the gentle words bringing him back whenever he needed them to, they couldn’t be coincidental.

Mad Ghost had already left surprisingly early, although it had been like that for the past few weeks. And Sans was picking up on it and Grillby was picking up on it.

“What’s… up with him lately?” Grillby asked, mostly curious. The question dragged Sans out of a panic induced trip of dissociating, so while it was an uncomfortable topic, he was actually glad for the change.

“to be honest,” Sans began a bit awkwardly. “i think he, uh… i think he… actually had a thing for me?”He described what happened the other day, and back then, when they were lying on the couch fucked up and drunk, it had seemed weird, but… Now that he thought of it, thought of it sober and after telling his boyfriend, it was more than weird. He didn’t understand.

Mad Ghost wasn’t the type to settle for anyone, why would he even hint on anything like that towards someone like Sans? And why did it make Sans feel warm and fuzzy inside?“actually, i’m probably misreadin’ it,” Sans finished with a shrug, but he could already see Grillby shaking his head.

“I don’t think so.”

Sans sat up, surprised.

“You like him, don’t you?”Sans flushed.

“grillby,” he laughed. “i have you. i love you.” He did. He really did. He knew he did, but then why was there this hot, coiling feeling in his stomach that told him that Grillby was not wrong.“I know you do, babe,” the elemental replied with a soft smile. “I love you, too. And I trust you. And I wouldn’t mind a polyamorous relationship.”“a… what?”Grillby’s smile seemed to grow a bit at the question, as if he’d been expecting it.

“I wouldn’t mind sharing you. As long as I know who else you’re with and as long as I know you’re safe… I wouldn’t want to make you have to choose.”“i did choose, though!” Sans argued, not even sure why he felt the need to argue. “i chose you, grillby.”“You did, but when you did, Mad Ghost hadn’t been an option yet,” the flame countered. “Not the way he might be now. Not the way I had been. I want you to be happy, Sans.”

Sans flushed even more, scooting closer to his boyfriend.

“you really would be ok, if… if me ‘n mads were a thing…?” He asked cautiously. It sounded surreal. It sounded exiting.

“If that’s what you want.”“what do you want?” Sans pressed. He didn’t want Grillby to get himself into anything he wasn’t comfortable with for Sans’ sake.

“For you to be happy,” Grillby said, but Sans fixed him with a small glare, saying that that wasn’t what he wanted to hear right now. “…A minimum wage raise?”

The idea of asking Mad Ghost to join them in their relationship sounded better in his head than it did when they were all at the skate park discussing important things like why would that kid try skateboarding if they couldn’t even walk without falling on their face constantly.

Sans was sitting on top of the shorted ramp there was, Grillby on the floor in front of him, back leaning against the ramp, and Mad was lying on bottom part of it. They had met with Toriel’s gang there, which was awkward enough considering both Muffet and Asgore were there. But things between Muffet and Grillby had actually been okay, and Undyne was cool company and Toriel was nice too, so the only issue was Asgore, really.

But it had been nice none-the-less. The four had left earlier than Grillby’s gang did, leaving the three alone to make fun of children. And that had been nice too, until a certain fucking fire elemental had to nudge Sans’ leg slightly with his elbow.

He knew immediately what he was trying to tell him, but that didn’t make it any easier.

He coughed into his fist awkwardly.

“so, uh. mads?” He began, hands fidgeting in the insides of his pockets. The ghost made a small confirming noise. “do you, like. uh. uhm…” He coughed again, and Mad finally seemed to catch up on that whatever Sans tried to tell him was incredibly awkward and he was looking up now to see Sans flushing like a beacon.

“What is going on?”“He’s asking you out,” Grillby supplied, only to get immediately kicked in the arm by Sans. He only laughed, though, rubbing the sore part as he did.

“i’m not-! like-! not on a date.” He scoffed, like that’d be a ridiculous idea. “i just, well. you- you’re cool. and you said the kiss thing might’ve… y’know. meant something.”He wasn’t sure if ghosts couldn’t blush of if Mad Ghost just didn’t, but the way he stared at him, eyes wide and both shocked and flustered, Sans had the feeling anyone else would be in his place. It made Sans feel hot under the collar.

“Dude. No. What!?” He spluttered out, unable to form a whole sentence. “I didn’t mean- I just- I-” And the he lowered his voice, hissing tense and nervous, “Grillby is right there.”“it’s. uh. it’s cool,” Sans uttered out equally nervous. “we’ve talked about this and, like. uh.”“I don’t mind,” the flame interrupted gently, turning more towards the two of them. “If you’re interested, that is. Sans doesn’t belong to me and if he wants to pursue another relationship, I’m more than open to share.”Shocked Mad looked from Sans to Grillby and back to Sans. He opened his mouth in an attempt to speak, then closed it again.

“i mean. you don’t gotta,” Sans finally said with a shrug, turning away, because wow. What had he been thinking? This was a stupid idea. Of course Mad wouldn’t be interested. They had been fucking drunk when they kissed! It didn’t mean anything! He probably wasn’t even into dudes. Christ.

“God, shrimp, it’s not- Not like that,” the ghost argued, but what was it like then? “I just don’t understand where this is suddenly coming from. I’m not the relationship kinda guy? What the hell?”“neither was i,” Sans admitted with a shrug. “until i found grillby, i guess.”

“Yea, but-”“You don’t have to go full cutesy, Mad Ghost,” Grillby interrupted him. “This is not really my place to intervene, but… Just because me and Sans act certain ways doesn’t mean the two of you would have to.”“oh god, no.” Sans made a twisted noise between a grunt of laughter and disgust. “i didn’t even think of that. i just thought like. i don’t know.” Sans got quieter when he continued, trailing off a little. “grabbing a beer at two in the morning, watching shitty shows and not having to feel awkward if it ends in, i don’t know, a make-out session.”“So,” Mad Ghost said, sounding like he was swallowing hard, “friends with benefits?”“sort of,” Sans admitted. “but i like you. and like, uh. what’s the issue with boyfriends with benefits?”“Commitments,” the ghost replied immediately, surprising Sans a good bit.

It was Sans’ turn to swallow hard. He’s never actually considered that. When he got together with Grillby he was too busy worrying that Grillby didn’t even like him that way than to think about commitments. Plus it’s not like he ever really cared about anyone else that way.

He, well, sure. He liked Mad Ghost. He was curious about pursuing something with him. But the ghost still wasn’t Grillby and there was simply no way denying that if it came to a point where Sans would have to choose one of the two romantically or around that, he’d choose Grillby without a second thought.

But Mad Ghost wasn’t like him. Mad Ghost got around. Mad Ghost had, he had sex with people. Probably. And being in a relationship, well.

Well?

Well.

Sans wasn’t sure how to continue that string of thought. So he didn’t.

“you don’t have to decide now,” he said instead.

The thing was, when Mad Ghost had decided, had agreed to at least try it, the two of them got drunk pretty quickly afterwards, excitement and nervousness coursing through both of them. And once they got drunk, they had the great idea to tell Grillby of the news, Sans ‘porting both of them to Grillby’s apartment, the two of them waiting for the flame to come home.

And well. Being drunk on a bed with their new boyfriend with benefits did quite a number on both of their patience. Which meant that they had no patience. At all. And they were practically all over each other five minutes into “waiting.”But god, Grillby was going to see them like that, Mad’s mouth on his’ as they both fought for dominance, and it excited Sans.

Sans rolled over until he was on top of Mad, tongue still not deciding whether it was fighting with the ghost’s or just exploring. It was hard with barely any solidness underneath you. With nothing to grind on, no neck to nip at. But he was definitely very drunk and very horny and he could make do and-

“Oh crap.” Grillby sounded more surprised than anything else, really. Sans broke off the kiss, eyes lidded and hazy, and rolled off the ghost to lie on his back and face Grillby. His grin was dopey as he giggled slowly.

“’eyyy babe,” he slurred excitedly. “sooo guess wha’s ‘e good news.”“You’re drunk on my bed making out with Mad Ghost who’s also drunk.”“Hey, I ain’t drunk,” the ghost scoffed, obviously lying.

“You’re-” Grillby paused. Took a deep breath. Knelt on the bed. “You can’t make important decisions while shitfaced,” he said to both of them.

“’e didn’.”“Yea I didn’,” Mad agreed and Sans couldn’t quite tell if he was copying his slur or just also slurring himself. “I did the deci-decisi- …delish- thingand then got drunk.”

Grillby’s brow was furrowed skeptically and Sans groaned.“c’moooonn. the more the merr’er. don’t be a party poopy.” He rolled to his side to get back to kissing the ghost, but couldn’t quite reach his mouth from this position so he just licked a long, wet stripe up his side, because that was erotic somehow maybe.

He felt Grillby take him by his shoulders, pulling him up and close to him and leaving the ghost to lie on the bed a bit confused. The flame sighed, but his hold was gentle, a thumb rubbing over Sans’ shoulder blade and the skeleton hummed.“Are you fine with this?” Grillby asked the ghost, pointing at all three of them. “Of this being a… threeway thing. I don’t mind leaving you and Sans to it if that’s what you want.”“nooooooo,” Sans whined, squirming a little. “i wan’ you bothhhh.”“You’ll still have both of us, Sans, just not at the same time sexually. Let Mads decide this.”Sans huffed and pouted, but kept quiet. He leered at the ghost, just as Grillby did, probably making him feel kind of uncomfortable.

“Yeah! Sure, hell yea!” Or maybe not.

The flame made an unconvinced noise and frowned. “Are you sure? You’re very drunk.”“’S he always like that?”“mhmm,” Sans hummed nodding, with a small amused smile. “’s sweet, though. ‘e just cares a lot.”“I’m right here.” Grillby interrupted them, not actually sounding angry, though. “And I’m not a rapist. Are you really fucking sure, Mads?”Mad Ghost took a breath, closing his eyes as he was psyching himself up.“Yes,” he said, probably a lot firmer and with a lot more finality than intended, but hey, it sounded more serious and sober than his previous slurring.

For a second Sans thought the flame still wouldn’t be convinced.

But then he grinned satisfied, a hand slipping underneath Sans’ shirt and stroking over the spine. Sans reacted immediately, arching his back as he let out a surprised moan. Mad was staring at him wide eyed, suddenly sitting up a bit.

“Oh shit,” he breathed out. “How’d you do that?”

“I know his spots,” Grillby hummed playfully, his fingers tracing over the inside of Sans ribs and his mouth ghosting over the nape of Sans neck. The skeleton was squirming already, drunk, hard, horny and sensitive, and the extra pair of eyes on him sure didn’t help him feel less exposed.

“nhh no – hah – no fair,” Sans complained whining. Grillby was taking of Sans’ shirt now, though not wasting a moment to get back to fondling him and holding him close. “i wanna – hah – w-wannah do s’m’thin’ too.”

Grillby chuckled, letting go of Sans’, though. Satisfied Sans climbed on Grillby’s lap, an arm around his neck to pull him into a sloppy, short kiss. He turned to the ghost.

“c’mon ‘ere,” he slurred, beckoning Mads to come closer. He did and immediately Sans’ put his free arm around him, pulling him into an equally sloppy kiss.

“so,” he breathed once he pulled off the kiss. “where’s your dick?”

There was this brief moment where Mad Ghost just stared at him, eyes lidded and dazed from the kiss, before the words clicked. He barked out a loud laugh.

“Where’s yours?” He challenged with a shit eating grin that Sans gladly returned.

But Grillby was faster than he was, saying, “in his pants, actually,” before palming the bulge through Sans’ shorts and causing the small skeleton to gasp surprised, having almost forgotten the third party here.

He let himself drop back onto the mattress, grinding into the hand between his legs and moaning wantonly.

“Damn,” Mad Ghost huffed, a brief laugh in his voice. “Y’ve really got ‘im tied around your finger, don’t’cha?”“Right now,” Grillby admitted. “He’s a piece of work sober, though.”Sans stuck his tongue out at them grinning. He really was.

“So?” The flame asked, eyeing Mad Ghost a little. “Don’t be shy. You’re part of this.”“…Right,” Mad muttered, sounding a little aloof. “So I jus’… guess i’ll just summon my junk?”Grillby gave him a nod, Sans returned it more enthusiastically.

So.

Skeleton dicks were weird, right? They sprouted somewhere on solid bone, on his pelvis, semi-transparent and glowing in a cyan hue. He’s never doubted they were sort of weird, compared to more physical monsters and creatures.

But ghost dicks? Like, actual ghost dicks, not Sans’ dick which he would call a ghost dick sometimes. An actual dick from a ghost, those were. Wow. Those were weird.

It wasn’t even attached to Mad Ghost, was just floating slightly in front of him, roughly about where he started fading out at the bottom.

But the worst was probably that it, even though the ghost was comparably shorter in body-size to Sans, his dick was still fucking bigger than his.

Yea! Well! Who needs big dicks? He was just fine with his own only slightly below average sized dick. Like, hell? He didn’t just manage to get one boyfriend, but two, so nobody can tell him size fucking matters.

Fuck that.

Fuck them.

“mhh, fuck me,” Sans groaned, grinding a bit more into Grillby’s palm and the elemental laughed.

Mads seemed, by now, a little bit more on the edge. “So – er… do I just… D’you wanna – uhm. Y’wanna suck me off? How do we- how do we do this?”

He’s been doing good.

He’d been doing so good lately, he thought.

But now he was seeing flashes of their faces, was feeling dicks in his mouth, his eye sockets, and his mind just blanket as he started hyperventilating. Everything was buzz, he was suffocating and he felt like everyone was too close suddenly. Like he was too exposed.

“Oh shit-”He teleported away before Grillby could even reach for him, landing at the other side of the room and sinking to the ground. Sans’ lungs hurt as he tried to will himself to stop hyperventilating, stop panicking, but it didn’t work. It didn’t help.

He didn’t even hear the way Mad Ghost panicked guiltily, the way Grillby got off his bed, almost running up to Sans.He did feel the hand on his shoulder, jerking away from it.

“Relax,” the elemental told him quietly. “You’re fine. You’re safe.”He was, Sans tried to remind himself. The rapists were gone, he was safe. He was with two of the people he trusted most. He was safe.

“i- i’m sorry,” he croaked out. “’m sorry. ‘m sorry.”“It’s okay, Sans,” Grillby said. “Relax.”“’m not ready,” he admitted. He was shaking.

“Do you want to stop?”Sans glanced towards Mad Ghost, feeling guilty.

“No. Sans. Listen.” He did, turning his head back to Grillby. “Do you want to stop.”Did he, though? He’d been so excited about this. He still was. He just. Just. The thought about sucking Mad Ghost off, about sucking anyone off, it terrified him.

Sans told him. Exactly that.

Grillby sighed. “That’s fine,” he said, a hand gently rubbing Sans’ shoulder. He wasn’t shaking anymore, Sans noted. “Are you fine, baby?”“i think so…”Grillby picked him up gently, carrying him back to the bed where the ghost’d been waiting anxiously.“I’m sorry, sprout-”“nah, ‘s cool,” Sans interrupted him. “really. just… ugh. ‘m just… i can’t do the… the suck-thing.”Mad let the words run over him, eyes wide in guilty panick, before he nodded. “Okay,” he breathed out. “Okay. I won’t bring that up anymore. Fuck.”“Can we choose a safe-word?” Grillby asked both of them, gently placing Sans down the bed again.

“What?” The ghost asked surprised. “Aren’t they for BDSM shit?”“Not necessarily,” the flame explained. “I really just want one so if either of us feels overwhelmed, he can say it and we’ll stop. No questions asked. No hesitating. We’ll just stop.”“yea, i’m… in for that.”“Alright,” Mad finally agreed, a slight relieved chuckle in his voice. “A’right. How ‘bout ‘boats’?”

“works for me,” Sans agreed, and Grillby nodded too.

So, like, he wanted to get past the panic attack awkwardness, right? So I guess he pulled off his pants. Because he was also still hard and that’s how things just go I suppose. You get the idea. Pants off. Dick out. I am being forcibly removed as the writer.

“Damn,” Mad Ghost said, surprise breathy in his voice. “It’s blue.”

“da-be-dee – da-be-die,” he started singing without missing a beat.

Grillby rolled his eyes, but looked obviously relieved by Sans acting normal again. “Hey, Mads?”“Myea?” The ghost replied half-interested, his eyes focused on Sans, making him feel even more exposed.

Grillby chuckled, not missing the way Sans began squirming slightly, and let a hand stroke over his leg as he slipped off the bed.“Why don’t you take care of him while I get us something?”

“Yea, can do that.”“’ey!” Sans tried to argue as Grillby was already leaving the room. “i don’t need t’ be ‘taken care’ o- ohhh – oh fuuuuck.” Sans spine arched as he felt what might’ve as well been raw magic coalescence in his vertebrae close to his tailbone. He moaned, unable to form words right now, and barely opened one of his closed eye sockets to peek at whatever Mad Ghost was doing.

It looked like he was just… touching Sans’ spine. Except his arm just started to fade out into nothingness the closer it got to Sans, and instead the three vertebrae closest to it seemed to glow in a faint orange color.

The glow seemed to light up stronger for a second, before Sans let out another loud, surprised moan as more magic seemed to ripple through his bones.

“ohhh fuck, tha’s good,” he groaned out, fingers clenching around the comforter he was lying on.

He barely could hear the chuckle through his own from pleasure fogged up mind as well as his panting, but he did.

“That trick always gets ‘em around,” the ghost laughed as he moved his magic a tad downwards until reaching Sans cock.

Which was.

Well.

It was raw magic haunting raw magic, not to mention on one of the most sensitive parts Sans had on his body. And as Mad Ghost finally sent his wave of magic through him, through his dick, and everything just seemed to go black as Sans came. He didn’t scream per-say, but he did moan loudly, saliva escaping from the corner of his mouth as he lied there panting, slowly coming down from his high.Mad Ghost was just laughing now. Genuinely laughing. But not the degrading kind of laughing, just the genuine fun kind of laughing, and then Sans was laughing too.

“Oh wow, you sure did take care of him, huh?” Grillby asked, not just a little surprised as he came into the room seeing Mad Ghost laughing and Sans panting, soiled in his own cum.

“Ain’t my fault you took so long,” the ghost retorted.

“heh, ‘s cool,” Sans breathed out. “i could go fo’ seconds.”Grillby seemed to have expected that, but he was smiling anyways.“Yea?” He asked. “That’s good, ‘cause I’ve got us a little something.” He shimmied out of his own pants, Sans feeling himself slowly getting hard again only by seeing the tent in his boyfriends underpants, before those were discarded, too.

“what’cha got for us?” The skeleton slurred well excitedly. He didn’t have to wait for an answer, as Grillby already brought up what ever he had planned for them.

And, wow, whatever Sans had expected was not a Tenga Egg in his lovers hand.

“ooohh fuck,” Sans breathed out. He could see the flame smirking, before moving the already lubricated toy down onto Sans’ semi-hard cock. The skeleton gasped, grasped at the bedding.

“aaahnn, pleasee,” he whined pretty much instinctively, not expecting the almost predatory growl that drew out of Mad Ghost. Sans shivered at the sound.

“What do you want?” Mads asked, his voice a tad deeper than before. Even Grillby seemed surprised, but he caught himself quickly.

“I think I’ve got an idea on what that might be,” the flame purred, before giving his own cock a few pumps and then pushing it inside the toy alongside Sans’ cock.

Sans gasped at the added friction. Shit, shit, shit. Grillby’s cock was so hot compared to the cool walls of the toy that Grillby slowly began twisting around both of them.

Mad Ghost watched the entire display, groaning deeply. “Y’think there’s room for one more?” He asked, already inching closer.

“Mmh, let’s find out,” Grillby hummed.

Sans watched attentively as a third cock squeezed itself into the toy, the egg feeling by now almost too tight around them. He groaned loudly, trying to lift his hips to get some friction.

“move?” He asked desperately, after Grillby and Mads both spent a few seconds just adjusting and panting.

Finally Grillby began moving the toy. All three of them groaned simultaneously as he started pumping and twisting the textured wall around them. Christ, it was so tight, and the Mad Ghost began moving too, thrusting ever so slightly into the toy, rubbing against both Sans and Grillby all the while.

It was too much for Sans to process, the textured walls of the eggs moving around one side of his cock, the rough pumping of Mad’s ghosty dick, the presence of Grillby’s hot one. Sans threw his arm over his face and whined into it as he came again, his juice juicing up their juice box.

They still didn’t stop moving, though. Grillby slowed a little, checking if Sans was doing alright, but continued moving the egg as soon as he didn’t note any distress in the skeleton. His cum was lubing them up even more, making the movements slick and smooth and so intense on Sans’ oversensitive cock.

“Fuuuuck,” Mad Ghost groaned and Sans barely noticed the way his movements started to get shakier. “Y’ sure – ah – know your shit, Grillbz.”The flame laughed a little, but he too sounded a bit shaken up. “I just got us the toy.”“noooooo,” Sans interrupted him, startling Grillby a little. Sans voice was drawled and slurred and he was on a plane somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness and it was called pure bliss.

“y’re twist’n’ it sooo good.” Somewhere in his drunken and of pleasure hazy mind Sans thought, oh, he probably had a lot of experience with those kinda toys, which was a great thing to tease him with. But he couldn’t possibly do so right now, barely able to form words, let alone form complex, half-formed thoughts into words. It would probably end in nonsense. Would he even be able to speak English? He might just accidentally slip to Wingdings mid-sentence. That thought seemed hilarious for a moment, and Sans started laughing, chuckling out of nowhere.

Grillby was laughing too. “You okay there, babe?” He asked, but Sans couldn’t even answer through his laughter, causing Mad Ghost to chuckle a bit.

“He’s too f-fffar gone, ‘eh?” He asked, before bending over with a loud groan. He finally came, too, his jizz feeling more like fog than a liquid.

“Mhhh fuck,” Grillby groaned. He tightened his hand a little, squeezing the egg around their cocks even more, before he finally came, too.

The addition of the hot, almost searing, cum finally choked out the laughter in Sans’ throat and he, too, came. For the third time, groaning loudly.

He was already on his way to passing out when Grillby removed the toy and put it away and Mad Ghost half-heartedly cleaned up what was to clean up. He wasn’t sure who tucked him into bed, but when he sleepily asked the two monsters next to him, Mad Ghost said he had done that himself. Oh. He couldn’t even remember.

“I guess that’s one way to start a relationship, hm?” Grillby hummed quietly as Sans was falling asleep. The ghost didn’t answer for a moment, and Grillby almost thought he was already sleeping too, before he heard a quiet voice.

“…Yea,” Mads muttered, sounding thoughtful. “A relationship…”

#sansby #smadsby #smads #sans #grillby #mad ghost #bwts #bwts spoilers #ask the writer

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