#and it was probably excitement actually but my body went into full fight or flight mode

[sherlock-is-ace]

.

[ice-fire-or-clear]

Further on the Edge, II.

Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x f!Reader (callsign Siren)

part 1 | masterlist | part 3

Word count: 3.1k

A/N: Here’s part two!! I hope it was worth the wait! It’s quite a bit longer this time and has way more action, so I hope that’s fun and exciting. I’m definitely not great at scripting plane stuff so that stuff might make sense but probably not. Also, thank you for every single like, reblog, tag, and comment on the first part!! I don’t wanna reply with my main just yet but thank you so so so much! Enjoy :)

CW: Slight sexism, fighting (planes and otherwise), Slider being relegated to background character :(, Ice Being A Dick But Unfortunately He's Usually Right, language, lots of language

In. Hold. Out.

Repeat.

Closing your eyes, you walked yourself through your usual preflight mantra, focusing all of the energy in your body to settle in the pit of your stomach. Ironically, you always took the time to ground yourself before a flight, aiming to leave any distractions or annoyances on the tarmac below.

Unfortunately, your biggest annoyance was climbing into the plane opposite you.

Today had already been off to a rough start. You had fumbled your answer to one of Viper’s rapid-fire questions during the lecture earlier, and things went from bad to worse when they split the class off into pairs for dogfighting after the break. You had been named the team leader of your pair, with Ice assigned as your wingman. You had to suppress to a groan when you read the lineup. The other pilots could be annoying, certainly, but they were nothing compared to flying with someone who was so certain that they were right about every move, no matter what anyone else said. Though, you had to admit, he usually was…

Settling down into your seat, you couldn’t help but be stricken with a weird sense of deja vu as you recalled the first time you and Iceman actually flew together. Weeks later, you could almost huff out a laugh at the memory.

—

After the disaster at The O, you woke up for the first day of the program with a mix of apprehension and doubt. After a cold shower to wash away any remnants of the last night’s beers, you slowly and methodically dressed in your service khakis, careful to fix the bun at the nape of your neck perfectly in place. Satisfied your uniform was perfect, and therefore able to escape detection and an embarrassing callout, you made your way to the building where the classroom sessions would be held.

By some random stroke of luck, you had managed to avoid an awkward confrontation with Iceman for the duration of the lecture. By sitting close to the front and arriving early enough to avoid walking into a room full of your fellow pilots, you avoided any actual conversation efforts. Instead, you let them aim their questioning and skeptical stares at the back of your head, unbothered and accustomed to their curiosity. However, as the seconds on the clock ticked by, you began tapping your fingers on your thigh. You had heard his deep voice all the way from the back throughout the lesson and knew it was only a matter of time until something happened. Ice would eventually realize that the “enamored” (gag) girl from the night before was the same studious, determined woman in the second row.

And unfortunately, when it came time for your first set of afternoon fieldwork, your number was up.

“…and finally, Iceman and Slider with Siren and Hipcheck.” Jester finished.

You stood stock still in the hangar, pressing your lips together to hold back a curse. Fuck.

Just ahead of you, you watched Ice���s head turn, gaze landing first on your RIO, standing sturdy next to you, and then shifting down to you. Refusing to back down, you frowned at him when he caught your eye. Something unfamiliar flickered across his face; surprise, certainly, but something else as well. Regret, maybe?

Whatever. You crossed your arms over your chest, tuning back in for the drill parameters. The exercise, and the pilots, were nothing you hadn’t dealt with before.

Up in the air, Ice took the lead while you trailed behind him at a healthy distance. You and Hipcheck followed his directions with little comment, doing your best to both keep Jester at bay and make an opening for a clean shot. Your commanding officer was a far more than worthy opponent, more than you anticipated.

You found yourself banking left, on path to intercept Jester as he zipped across the sky roughly perpendicular to your jet. Ice wasn’t far behind, but couldn’t keep Jester in his sights. The older pilot kept diving and weaving just out of reach.

“Iceman, I’m on his three o’clock, on target to intercept. If I get tone, I’m taking it,” you warned.

“Negative, Siren. He’s counting on it. Change path to intercept from 5 o’clock, and cover me while I bring him around.”

“What? No. You’re not chasing him, he’s baiting you! I’ll have him in a few seconds.”

“Negative, Siren! Fall back and cover me! You’re the one who’s bait here.”

You scowled at Iceman and his stubbornness, focusing on Jester, now practically at twelve o’clock. “How are things looking back there, Hipcheck?”

“Almost got him, Si! Oh shit, there we are! I’ve got missile lock on him, whenever you’re ready.”

You couldn’t help a small smirk as you readied your finger on the button. Iceman wasn’t the only one who knew how to win a dogfight. You honed your eyes on Jester, anticipating every movement almost before it happened. Just as you were about to call the shot, you heard Slider yell, “Oh, shit! He’s coming around!”

With horror, you watched as Jester rolled hard right, now coming at you head on. You gripped the joystick with both hands as you swerved to your right, trying to shake him. Before you could even check your sights, it was over. That sickening, high-pitched drone filled the cockpit as you dropped your head for just a second, swearing in defeat.

“Goddammit!” Ice’s voice crackled over the comms. Anger at your insubordination shattered his cool, collected demeanor, a rare sight. You weren’t exactly looking forward to your reunion on the tarmac.

—

“Si? They’re waiting for our signal.” Hipcheck’s voice snapped you out of your flashback. You had been flying with him in the backseat for several months now, ever since you had been transferred into your new permanent squadron in the Pacific fleet. Hipcheck, callsign earned from his hockey-esque stature, was several years older than you and had dozens more missions logged. He was one of the few bearable Naval aviators you had had the pleasure of flying with, quickly taking you under his wing (haha) and helping you find your bearings in an intimidating environment. You considered him a friend at this point, even getting to meet his wife and their two children a couple times on shore leave. He was friendly and well-liked by most of the other pilots, making it a little easier for you gain acceptance into the group.

Clearing your throat as you acknowledged his warning, you honed your focus on the drill as you taxied toward the runway. You were slightly embarrassed that you had let your musings on Ice cause you to zone out during all the pre-flight checks. Better not let that happen again, you thought, involuntarily glancing behind you to see him following you over the airstrip.

Up in the air, you hovered almost parallel to each other while you scanned the horizon for any sight of Jester.

“We really need to fly in unison this time,” you frowned at Ice through the canopy.

You could hear his eyes roll over the comms.

“Once you learn how to follow the lead, that won’t be an issue.”

“Follow whose lead?” You were grateful your mask hid your smirk. You knew it had to be killing Iceman, you being named leader.

“Whatever.” A pause. “What’s the picture looking like, Slider?”

“All clean up ahead.”

“Same here.” Hipcheck.

Things had been still for way too long, you thought. You twisted in your seat, craning your neck in both directions to see behind you.

“What the hell… where is he?” you murmured.

Not even three seconds later, Iceman’s voice burst through the commons. “Tally two, 11 o’clock! Over the mountains!”

Tally two?! Who the hell else was up here?

“Viper,” Hipcheck spat, making the word sound like a curse.

“Okay, fuck.” You clenched your jaw, trying to think. “Okay, Ice, we need to split them. I’m gonna come around from the left, and you cover me at 7 o’clock low.”

“Copy.” If he had any objections, he kept quiet.

Less than a minute away from intercept now. “I’ve got Viper!” You yelled. “Roll left and pull up when I say!”

You didn’t take your eyes off of the leading plane, waiting until you were nearly below it.

“Now!”

Like two halves of the same shell, you and Iceman split off away from each other, twisting up as you went. From the ground, your planes would have looked like exact mirror images of each other, each move neatly reciprocated by the other.

Ice shot up right on Jester’s nose, causing the instructor to roll hard to his own left to narrowly avoid a collision. You came up just off Viper’s right wing, startling him. He shot ahead, banking right and hoping to shake you.

Somewhere in the back of your head, there was a sense of pride for being able to unsettle the two more experienced targets.

“Hipcheck, what’s going on back there?” You asked, unwilling to take your eyes off Viper.

“Ice and Slider have him heading clear away from us, about 8 o’clock. Looks like Viper’s trying to bring us back around so he can cover Jester, though.”

You swore, twisting around to see that Viper’s constant turn was indeed clearly on path to intercept Iceman.

“Okay, okay. Ice, we’re coming back around to cover you.”

Dimly, you were aware of your stomach rolling as you pulled the jet into a harsh 270 degree turn. Nothing you hadn’t gotten used to over the years, though. Neither was the zig-zagging, tumultuous path you took to prevent Viper from getting missile lock as you raced to defend Iceman.

“I’m right on him, but I can’t get clean shot against the terrain,” Ice said, sounding slightly frustrated over the comms.

“Siren, looks like Viper’s breaking off to your nine o’clock,” Slider called, crackling to life in your ear.

“Copy. Moving to defend from 6 o’clock. I got eyes on him now.”

“There’s a break in the canyon up ahead, Iceman. If you can push him through there, it looks like a clean shot.”

“Copy, Hipcheck. Increasing speed.”

Seconds later, Jester shot through the opening of the canyon, Iceman right on his tail. Jester kept close to the ground, probably banking on the fact that the terrain would still prevent Slider from getting a lock. Meanwhile, Ice soared straight up, pulling back just slightly to keep Jester in his sights. Meanwhile, you maintained altitude, hovering above Ice on his 6 andkeeping an eye on Viper. The older pilot was maintaining his position, just off your 10 o’clock at a healthy distance. Why wasn’t he moving in to defend his wingman?

“I’ve got tone!” Slider yelled.

“Firing!” came Ice’s reply.

“Yes! That’s a kill!”

“Hell yeah!” Hipcheck cheered from behind you.

“Good work, Ice.” You couldn’t help but smile. “Now let’s finish Viper.”

You changed your course to put him dead in your sights, picking up speed. Iceman increased his altitude as well, hovering above at 5 o’clock.

It wasn’t long before Hipcheck was telling you that you were almost lined up from a clear shot. Perfect.

“Iceman, Hipcheck says we’ve almost got lock. I’m gonna drop down and increase speed.”

“That’s not a good idea, Siren. He’s not an idiot; he’s knows that you’ve almost got the shot. We should pull back and maintain position, wait and see what he’s gonna do.”

Irritation flared up in you. Typical Ice, content to wait for the perfect opening, never willing to pull something off the cuff. (You ignored the little voice in your head reasoning that maybe that kind of behavior was why he and Slider were currently sitting at the top of the rankings.)

“Negative, Iceman. He’s right there! I’m dropping down and taking it!”

“That is exactly what he wants you to do, Siren! Hold your position!”

Fuck him, thinking he’s the only one who knows how to fight, you thought, tightening your jaw.

“That’s not your call, Ice. You’re not the one in charge here,” you growled, pushing the plane into a steep dive. Right on Viper’s tail, just like you planned.

In the split second you dreamt about how nice it would be to finally say “I told you so” to Kazansky’s dumbass, smug face, the world flipped over around you.

Or, that’s what it felt like as Viper pulled a page out of Maverick and Goose’s book and hit the brakes, pulling his plane to a near stop in midair.

You futilely tried to copy the same maneuver, jerking around in your seat to see where the fuck he had gone.

“Siren, he’s right on our six! We need to get out of here and do something!” Hipcheck yelled from behind you.

“Shit!” you swore, pulling up in a desperate attempt to get out of range of Viper’s missiles. “Ice, can you cover me?!”

“Not anymore!” he snapped. “He’s at our 9 o’clock, we can’t get around him now.”

“Looks like he’s got you guys, Siren,” Slider said, sounding less annoyed and more sympathetic.

“Fuck,” you couldn’t help but mutter, defeated as the missile tone filled the canopy.

Another crackle from the comms. “Hell yeah! Splash two!”

Of course Viper’s move to take you out would leave Iceman lined up perfectly for the kill.

“Don’t worry about them, Si,” Hipcheck said, not unkindly. “We put up a good fight.”

“Yeah, and now Ice is gonna get points for both Jester and Viper,” you frowned, trying not to sound as childish as you felt. You changed course back to base with a little more force than necessary, blocking out Iceman and Slider’s gleeful chatter over the comms.

-

In. Hold. Out.

Repeat.

During the flight home, you had almost worked yourself out of your rage. Of course, all that shit went out the window, as tends to happen whenever Iceman is involved.

You lasted all of maybe ten seconds on the airstrip until you saw his smug face climbing out of the jet in front of you. You were stomping across the tarmac before you could even think straight.

“Si, why don’t we take a second and think about this,” Hipcheck said, not unkindly, trying to subtly hold you back. You ignored him, shook him off, and kept moving.

“What the fuck, Kazansky?!”

Iceman, helmet in his hands, spun around at the sound of your voice. There was no mistaking the surprise on his face, whether at the volume of your tone or the use of his last name. Nonetheless, he recovered quickly, setting his features into that trademark smirk. “Yes, Lieutenant?”

You took the last few steps forward, shoving at his chest with both hands. He barely tilted back, the fucker.

“What the hell is wrong with you?! I had Viper! Had him! Until you slowed me down and tried to get in my head!” You paused for a second, a bit out of breath. “Was Jester not enough for you? You had to steal my shot too? Are you that narcissistic that all you can think about is your name on that plaque?”

The blond man glared down at you, setting his jaw. “I don’t need to ‘get in your head’ to outfly you, Siren. You do that all on your own. You show up to every exercise, every lecture, every goddamn gym session like you have something to prove! That’s why you lost the kill. Not because I stole it, but because you’re too proud to defer to anyone else, even when they’re trying to help you!”

“Help me? Fucking help me?! This all goes back to you and your ego, and your obsessive need to be in control of everything! You’re flying with the best of the best, and you think you’re the only one has any fucking clue of what’s going on!”

“You know what, I might have an ego, but I’ve earned it! You act like you’re too good to talk to any of the rest of us, like all that matters is knowing every goddamn maneuver and instrument down to the last detail. Well, like you just learned, none of that shit is gonna save your ass in a dogfight! If you don’t trust your team enough up there to listen to your wingman, you’re dead! You’re fucking dead! You need to stop carrying such a chip on your shoulder about being a woman and accept that you can’t win by shutting everyone else out!” Ice had leaned into your face by the end of his rant, his voice still ringing in your ears. Slider wrapped his hand around Iceman’s upper bicep, pulling him back slightly.

You were ashamed of the heat rushing to your cheeks and spooling painfully in your throat. “That’s not what this is about! And so what if it was?! I have to work twice as hard to get half as far as you, and fuck you if you can’t see that!”

“Lieutenants!” Viper’s voice, though not loud, sliced through the tension like a knife. “That will be enough of that.”

You looked away from Ice, painfully embarrassed to have lost your cool in front of your commanding officer.

“You’re both done flying for the day. Now go ahead and do push-ups until Jester gets tired.”

—

Somewhere between two and three hundred, you lost count of how many push-ups you had done, the fatigue in your arms quickly fading into numbness. You dutifully kept your eyes on the ground for each one, ignoring Ice’s strained breaths next to you.

You couldn’t help but feel like you had lost a much larger battle today than the one with Viper. It bothered you how easily Iceman saw through your unaffected persona, poking at the anger underneath and drawing it out for everyone to see. You felt as if he had sent you tumbling backwards, slicing through all the work you had to cover up your flaws and exposing the root of your real problem. Somehow, he seemed to understand you better than anyone else, but all that did was drive you further apart.

Fuck him, you thought. Let him think whatever he wants, see whatever he wants to see. He would not stop you from reading your name on that plaque. And after graduation, you were gonna make sure that he would never stop hearing your name in conjunction with phrases such as “best of the best of the best” and “top Naval aviators” and maybe one day, “Admiral.”

But, first you had to make sure he knew you could do more push-ups than him.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I’m excited to get to part three!

part 1 | masterlist | part 3

[fireheartedpup]

I think my birthday has become a trigger for me. There's no one to invite. It's nice that my parents still want to go all out, but I don't know what to tell mom because I don't want to do anything.

No one here cares about the pandemic and I'm not even sure how much to care anymore because they stopped caring when it was still in full swing. I haven't gotten covid even though I haven't avoided my family, who stopped taking precautions a few months in and think masking is stupid, so what have I even been doing? Has it done anything at all?

I'm still happy that I haven't gotten sick other the built in body issues in... how long has it been? Five fucking years? But I miss feeling normal.

I don't want to live here and I don't want to do this and I don't know what to do even when I know what to do. The only thing that really motivates me is being angry. I hate being angry.

I don't want to live in this reality and I don't have enough money to move and whenever anyone tries to change things here, they're met with a bunch of people saying you can't change things here because we haven't changed things here so you can't change things here.

I think my dog deserves better and I don't have enough money to pay off my debt, much less a specialist. She's not neglected or anything I just have higher standards now. I'm probably still alive because of her. If I die, no one will know for days. Maybe a week or more. No one's coming to check on me.

Mom might come eventually but mom comes sporadically because she tries to give me space. I flip between wanting to cut my parents out entirely and just wanting to see them. They're still conservative and I can never trust them the same way again, but they've supported me the entire time.

I did beg for some of it. But they have supported me.

Dad's cranky because prices are going up and he didn't plan on supporting me this long and he's in the same position I am. I inherited the no friends disease. I'm fucking pedigreed in mental illness. He likes drinking wine even though eating makes him throw up now. He doesn't want to see a normal doctor.

His mom has had many cancerous growths removed. I should probably get ready to deal with his stuff.

Mom clearly wants to leave and doesn't feel she can. It's tough when being with someone makes your life harder, but you can see them actively getting better. I think it's one reason she wants to keep her flight attendant job even though she's becoming less and less physically able. She can just pick up and leave whenever she wants.

I feel stupid and useless for not earning enough by now. I know that's not entirely realistic because I read it takes two years to get over an abusive environment and it's only been one. My parents love me, but living in that house put me in fight or flight mode every time I went to the kitchen.

I feel paralyzed and when I try to look up jobs I want to break down entirely. I've made half-hearted attempts to build my own thing but it feels like I'm never able to pick the right thing, that I'll always burn out, that I can never tell what's going to work, that every thing I'm actually excited about is doomed to fail.

Sometimes I don't even want to support people because it feels like my support is the death knell for their cause.

I'm trying to restructure my thinking. I spend almost all of my time doing that. It's difficult to escape the social media whirlpool when social media is so attached to so many different forms of monetary income these days.

I thought I could get free therapy with my insurance so I could bounce this off of a therapist instead of tumblr or a random person but I'm not sure anymore so I gave up.

I feel like I'm overwhelmingly tired and negative and hurt and angry and that no one should have to deal with that.

I'm trying to make friends with my neighbors, but either I don't text back in enough time or they just don't respond. I don't know why or where or when it goes wrong. I start avoiding everyone because I'm waiting for it to go wrong.

I want to get on medication but I just saw that thing about the autistic licenses in MY state. The government doesn't want me. They don't even want me to exist. I don't want to give them the option of using it against me in any way.

It's very hard to get myself out of a spiral. I should probably look into ocd help a bit more. I don't know if that's me or if this is an offshoot of something else, but either way it's connected.

The recent blog thing has just reinforced me feeling stupid and isolated. I'm very grateful for the people who've been here for me. I don't want anyone to ever feel obligated to support me. But I'm having a really hard time.

And it feels stupid to be having a hard time. I have more than most.

I want to live in a different reality.

[bbrandy2002]

Fearless

Chapter 4: See the Lights, See the Party, the Ball Gowns

Book: The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir

Pairing: Prince/King Liam x MC (Riley Brooks), Drake Walker x OC (Alyssa Devereaux)

Series Premise: Riley Brooks and Alyssa Devereaux became best friends as freshmen at Syracuse University, a borderline-sisterhood that lasts forever after. When Riley meets a handsome prince and is asked to compete for his hand in a mysterious faraway kingdom, she invites Alyssa along for moral support.

What the girls think will be a crazy temporary adventure becomes two sets of happily ever afters … with twice the shenanigans to show for it.

A/N: This series is written in loving collaboration between @bbrandy2002 and @burnsoslow​.

Series Warnings: Smut 🍋🍋, language, canon violence (gun violence, bombing, terrorism), drug use, probably more stuff as we think of it. By reading this series, you agree that you are at least 18 years old and are prepared to deal with adult themes.

The girls spent their first morning in Cordonia with their respective sponsors, getting the first glimpses of courtly life and preparing for the Masquerade Ball taking place that evening. As much as they wanted to get out and experience all that this little Mediterranean country had to offer, there was just so much to do and little time to do it. 

That morning, while Alyssa worked diligently on learning the steps of the Cordonian Waltz and etiquette with Rashad, Maxwell finally got Riley out of bed in time for a late breakfast. This included meeting his brother, Bertrand, who was none too thrilled with the former waitress from New York. Riley discovered rather quickly that the duke was nothing like the free-spirited Maxwell; if ever there was a picture display of a killjoy, she was sure his scowling face would be plastered dead in the center.  

The day kind of went by in a dizzying blur, especially for Riley, who spent most of it either being lectured by Bertrand, or raiding the kitchen for stress snacks with Maxwell. And as far as anyone knew, Liam was still unaware that the quirky, raven-haired beauty he’d met two nights ago and never expected to see again was in his country, in his palace, and was about to come face-to-face with him.

If she didn’t die of anxiety first. 

Neither of the girls saw each other until much later that afternoon when they linked up in Riley’s room before heading to the palace's salon for last-minute hair and nail appointments. 

Later on in the boutique, Riley sucked in a deep breath and held in her stomach while Alyssa stood behind her, fighting to zip the back of the angel-themed costume she chose for the Masquerade Ball. 

Actually, "chose" was a loose description in this case. The ensemble was one of the last two dresses in the palace's boutique, and Maxwell insisted Riley wear it instead of the more provocative red devil attire to make herself more appealing to the King and Queen. The Beaumont sponsee didn’t give two shits at that moment about impressing the monarchs; her major concern was how she would fit that size-four dress over her size-six body. 

“What the hell did you eat, Ri? This zipper is not budging an inch," an out-of-breath Alyssa groaned as she attempted to pull the tight fabric closer together.  

Steadying her feet firmly to the ground, a jostled-around Riley answered quietly, in a still manner, so as not to undo what little progress her friend had already made, "You know I'm a stress eater. I've experienced many emotions since we left yesterday, and food therapy helps. And your judgment is making me hungry again, so thank you for making it worse."

"I'm not judging you; I'm simply stating a fact: Your ass won’t fit in this dress."

Riley straightened up a little higher, hoping to thin her lean frame out more. "Well, it's gonna have to," she scoffed. "I can't be the only suitor at this ball without the proper attire."

Alyssa tugged harder in frustration. "You know, it might help if I could remove the price tag from the zipper."

"Perhaps." Riley sideways glanced at the two inattentive boutique cashiers before turning her head slightly over her shoulder to acknowledge her best friend in a hushed tone. "But then I wouldn't be able to return it in the morning. $700 for a damn dress is highway robbery, and I won't be a victim to this place's jacked-up prices." She glared back at the fashionably dressed women running the register and hollered out, "You should all be ashamed of yourselves!"

"Shhhh!" Alyssa's face burned with embarrassment while she smiled sheepishly at the bewildered ladies. "Are you crazy? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"You mean aside from the usual things that are wrong with me? I'm a nervous wreck, Lyss. Liam still doesn't know that I'm here. I'm about to go wine-and-dine with snobby rich people, while my socially awkward-o-meter is on red alert. And Maxwell's brother didn't like me. How am I supposed to impress Liam, the press, this council, and his parents when my own sponsor hates me?"

"He doesn't hate you," Alyssa replied. "Suck in your stomach a little more ... Rashad told me Duke Beaumont is high-strung and takes all this court business very seriously. If you ask me, give ‘The Brows’ some time. I know he'll love you. And Liam already does!" Alyssa stepped back in delight after tirelessly sliding the last bit of the zipper to the neckline. "Voila! I got it."

Riley stiffly turned toward the full-length mirror -- her insides feeling like they would pop right out of her -- and surveyed the finished product. "Not bad, not bad. A slight muffin top on the sides, and my ass cheeks are packed in tighter than my family around the dessert station at a buffet, but ... I think I can get by with it." Turning to face Alyssa, she lit up with anticipation. "Okay, now it's your turn."

Alyssa plucked the bright red dress off the rack and headed inside one of the many dressing rooms. A moment later, she emerged with a beaming smile on her face and held her arms out to the side to do a show-offish twirl. "So, how do I look?"

"Oh my god, Lyss!" Riley clapped excitedly. "You look so hot in that! That color of red really suits you too. Although, you might want to cover up the girls a little more; I've never seen your boobs look so huge."

"Wha --" Alyssa glanced down at her fully rounded chest, a substantial portion of which was spilling out over the top. She crossed her arms over her breasts in horror. "OH MY GOD! You're right: They're enormous in this thing. I can't go out there like this! They'll be stuffing dollar bills into my cleavage and begging for a lap dance!"

"Well, just ... try to tuck them in," Riley suggested, demonstrating her advice on herself. “You know, the way guys tuck in their junk.”

Alyssa shook her head adamantly, attempting to slide the top of the dress up higher. "I don't think that'll work. It's already extremely tight."

“That’s what he said,” Riley quipped with a snicker, much to the chagrin of her longtime friend, who simply blinked back. “Wow, not even a smile. Come on, Lyss, it’s not that hard.”

Alyssa grinned despite herself, “That’s what she said.”

Riley stepped closer, reaching out to grab a portion of the garment covering Alyssa's bosom, and declared, "Alright, If I can squeeze my fat ass into this dress, you can cram those giant melons into yours. So, get to pushin’, girl.”

-----------

After 10 minutes of stuffing uncooperative breasts into a gown, Alyssa and Riley stepped out of the boutique and made their way to the bottom of the main staircase outside of the ballroom, where Rashad and Maxwell were waiting eagerly for them. 

A grim-faced Rashad approached the pair as they neared. “We were beginning to worry about you two. I hope you didn’t have any trouble.” He reached out and greeted Alyssa with a friendly kiss to the cheek as Riley made her way up to Maxwell, who did the same.

“No troubles,” Alyssa assured him, before staring down at her chest to make sure certain parts were still contained inside her dress. “Just some slight wardrobe issues that I think we’ve taken care of.”

Riley frowned, rubbing a soothing hand over her squeezed-in stomach. “Let’s just say we both feel like canned biscuits.”

“And I’m petrified of canned biscuits!” Alyssa shrieked, then spoke in a lower, punier voice in Rashad’s direction. “They make that popping sound that scares the hell out of me.” He nodded sympathetically at her admission, having no clue what canned biscuits were.

Maxwell let out a chuckle. “Either way, you both look awesome! Like two totally righteous peas in a pod and all that jazz.” He peeked over at Riley, who wasn’t appearing too sure of herself, or of anything for that matter, knowing she’d spent most of the day in a subtle panic. While she steadied her breath, he looped his arm through hers and leaned over. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. You’re going to go in there like the boss you are and knock them all dead. I just know it.”

Riley swallowed thickly, “But Liam --”

“Will be over the moon with excitement to see you again. Do you think I’d go through all the trouble of trying to convince you, and then Alyssa, to come all the way here -- not to mention, facing my brother’s wrath -- if I didn’t believe Liam would want to see you again?” Riley half-shrugged, but Maxwell could tell by the little glimmer of hope he caught in her eyes and the slight curl at the corner of her plush pink lips that she knew it was true. “If he’s not happy about seeing you, I’ll book you on the first flight back to New York, and you can punch me in the gut or something. But I can tell you with certainty: No man goes out with a woman and keeps his friends up most of the night talking about how amazing she was if he doesn’t want to see her again.”

Riley could feel a tinge of pink color her cheeks and looked away for a brief moment, knowing he was right. She was about to see her prince again. Simply knowing how happy Liam was when they parted ways that night made her heart flutter. The blushing suitor peered back at the towering man on her arm and smiled appreciatively. “Thanks, Max.” 

As they both stared straight ahead at the set of double doors where Alyssa was making her grand entrance into the ballroom with Rashad, Riley pointed out, “You realize if you had said all that stuff to me this morning and five bloated pounds ago, I wouldn’t have cried to you all day over pints of ice cream, half a sheet cake, and a bag of Mini Snickers?”

Lord Beaumont grinned without looking at her as the orchestral music inside erupted through the newly opened threshold that awaited their crossing. A gleam of anticipation glistened the cobalt hue of his eyes.”That’s our cue. Time to look alive, Twinkle Toes, it’s showtime.”

__________

It felt like a million pairs of eyes bore through Riley when the announcer spoke her name out to the guest in the ballroom. In reality, few paid much attention to the young woman dressed in pure white, from the feathery halo perched above her fancy swept-up hairdo to the tiny heels that sparkled like glittery specks of fairy dust on her feet.  

As Maxwell ushered her proudly through the spectacular crowd adorned in the finest silks and chiffons, faces concealed behind extravagant masks similar to hers, and opulent table spreads of gold and crimson, Riley searched the four corners of the room for one particular set of the bluest eyes she’d ever encountered -- she had Liam’s memorized by heart. However, the only ones she recognized came from her smiling best friend, standing casually beside the Lord of Domvallier at the bar, keeping her word to watch out for her. With a subtle grin from Alyssa to convey she had her back, the whirlwind of fear and chaotic thoughts that overwhelmed Riley quickly dissipated into thin air. 

Baby steps.

While Maxwell and Riley headed to the center of the ballroom to meet up with Bertrand, across the way, Alyssa ordered a cranberry vodka from the bar. She was wearing red and needed a drink that matched perfectly with the fabric in case of accidental spillage. As the bartender poured her glass, she tore her vigilant gaze from Riley when Rashad’s cell rang. Seconds later, he covered his phone lightly with a palm and lowered it away from his ear to speak with her. 

“This is my client in California. Will you be okay for a little bit while I take this out on the balcony?”

Alyssa nodded. “Of course. Take your time. Is there anything I should be doing while you’re gone?”

“Try mingling with the crowd. Get to know the other suitors. The best way to help Riley tonight is to get a feel for the competition. Figure out who you can potentially get on her side and who is going to cause her trouble.”

“With all due respect, this isn’t Survivor.”

Rashad grinned before excusing himself. “We'll see if you still feel that way by the end of the social season.”

What is it with all the Debbie Downers here? He sounds just like -- Before she could finish that thought, a stroke of irony occurred when she caught the denim-clad Drake, standing out like a sore thumb, making his way up to the bar. She quickly spun around on the barstool and hovered over her freshly poured beverage. 

Tapping the bar's woodgrain top, Drake called for, “The usual,” before plopping down on the stool next to her. His woodsy scent filled the air and wafted in her direction; she wondered if he’d even recognize her.

Pressing the rim of the glass to her lips to take the first nervous sip of her drink, she wondered why she even cared if he did.

Alyssa set the vodka cranberry down on a cocktail napkin at the same time Drake reached for his tumbler of whiskey. A brush of their hands caused them both to retreat away before he bowed his head respectfully to her. 

“I’m sorry, my lady.” Drake was quick to apologize. He never knew which stuck up nobles would have an issue with a commoner’s simple touch.

Alyssa lifted a brow and smirked in response. “So you do have manners?”

He’d recognize that wily voice anywhere. Grumbling, Drake responded. “Aww, hell! Pipsqueak? Is that you?”

“Hello, Sunshine.” She dimpled.

Drake shook his head. “I should have known. Of all the damn people in this room, I still managed to find you.”

“I would call that a very lucky day for you then.” Alyssa lifted her drink and tipped back a gulp. “So what’re you doing here? Don’t you have some royal cows or chickens to herd around or something? Who wears denim and jeans to a fancy ball?” 

She would if she could get away with it.

His tight shoulder muscles bounced slightly with disingenuous laughter as his chestnut eyes took in her sultry devilish costume. “I could ask you the same about your own clothes. Suitors are supposed to dress up for these things. Not come as themselves.”

Offended, Alyssa arched back contemptuously. “Are you calling me a devil?”

“If the horns and pitchfork fit.” Drake retorted. He motioned with his glass across the room. “By the way, you see that blazing redhead who just stole your little friend away from Maxwell?” When Alyssa snapped her gaze protectively in that direction, he continued, “That’s Olivia. You might want to check in on … what’s her name again?”

“Riley ...” Her tone was resentful. He knows damn well what her name is. 

“Whatever. Just trust me on this, if the two of you know what’s good for ya -- and I’m betting you don’t -- you’ll stay as far away from Olivia and the rest of these social-climbing fuckers as possible.” His mood suddenly shifted as he drained his drink, then slammed it on the bar top, motioning with his hand to the bartender for another.

Alyssa was quick to notice the tension in his jaw and the immense throb of protruding veins in his forearm as he nursed his drink. “What climbed up your ass and died? Why are you even here if you hate everyone so much? 

He quickly snapped. “I’m here for Liam!”

“Well, I’m here for Riley!” The two of them glared at each other in a tense showdown that neither was willing to back down from. After a beat, Alyssa’s determination weakened somewhat; confrontations made her jittery. 

And with him in particular.

Letting her shoulders slump, Alyssa let out a soft breath as she relaxed. “I’m trying to give her some space … but do I need to go check on Riley?” The question was asked sincerely. 

Drake turned his head back, his vision crossing the vast expanse of the room and landing on a perturbed Riley in conversation with Olivia. He scowled, recognizing the expression impressed on her face all too well. “We’re outsiders, Alyssa. You. Me. Riley. That’s the only thing they’ll ever see. It’s the only way they’ll ever treat us.” He shifted to face Alyssa again. “Take that for what you will. If she were my friend … I would.”

_______

Riley shook her head emphatically. “There’s no way I’m supposed to kiss the king’s shoe. That’s weird, creepy, and-and- unsanitary!” She nodded toward a masked couple standing before the seated king who bowed, curtsied, and then exited to the left. “They didn’t kiss his shoe. I think you’re full of shit.” 

“Riley, Riley, Riley.” The duchess shook her head with an exasperated tone. “Those people are well-established and highly-regarded members of the court … you’re not. And while I admit it’s a rather unorthodox Cordonian royal custom, it’s part of our tradition that the newest members humble themselves before the king in an act of deep respect and reverence. I’m actually astounded Maxwell never bothered to tell you.” She flipped back a thick curly-q strand of hair that hung over her shoulders. “Do what you want. But don’t say I didn’t try to help you.”

Riley hesitated. “I guess I’ll keep it in mind …?”

“Great!” Olivia wrapped a firm hand around Riley’s wrist and pulled her toward the throne where the king sat. “You’re so lucky that I was here to warn you! Otherwise, you’d have looked utterly ridiculous.”

“Wait! Where are we going? Riley demanded, her feet barely able to keep up with the brisk pace. 

“To present you to King Constantine.”

“But I need to wait for my sponsor!” Riley protested. She struggled to break free, but the redhead’s clawlike grip was surprisingly strong. 

“Every second counts, Riley. These women have all known Liam for years. The early bird gets the Crown.”

“But I --” Panicked, Riley scoured the room for the Beaumonts and found them standing near the hors d'oeuvres table embroiled in what appeared to be a heated discussion.

“What the fuck?” On the opposite side of the ballroom, Alyssa spotted Olivia hauling Riley across the floor. Before Drake had the chance to warn her this wasn’t good, an enraged Alyssa was already sliding down off the barstool, stampeding off in hot pursuit of finding out what this redheaded troll was doing with her best friend. 

And for reasons he couldn’t fully understand, feeling frustrated beyond comprehension, Drake followed right on her heels.

Coming to a screeching halt before the raised dais, Olivia thrust Riley forward, who nearly tripped from the momentum into the bottom step at the sudden stop.

It took every ounce of restraint Riley had not to turn toward the woman who had forcibly dragged her across the room and to stick a pair of size-seven heels straight up her ass. She, however, liked the pretty, sparkly shoes she had on too much to ruin them … and wanted to end the evening outside of a hospital bed. “Asshole,” she muttered almost soundlessly.

“Your Majesty,” Olivia smirked. “I would like to present to you the suitor House Beaumont has chosen. Lady Riley.”

Riley gave her a cursory glare. It was the moment of truth. She plastered on her best smile for the King, who regarded her with a nod. 

Just … just do it. “Your Majesty.” Riley dipped into a low curtsy and held it in place for several seconds before contemplating the validity of Olivia’s outlandish claim and swallowing hard. “Here goes nothing.”

Placing both palms on the plush red carpeting that laid at the feet of the King, she lowered herself slowly until her knees rested on the top step.

“What the hell is she doing?” Alyssa questioned as she desperately weaved around a sea of faces, dodging server trays and tables along the way. “And where the hell is Maxwell?”

“I don’t know ...” Drake answered, practically pushing her even more quickly through the crowd, “ … but you better move faster. There’s no damn telling what Olivia told her to do.”

Riley paused briefly, staring at the simple black shoes that almost resembled a shiny boot. She wanted to be kissing Liam right now, not his father’s old fricking foot. Worst vacation ever.

Lowering her head gradually toward Constantine’s shoes, she scrunched up her face and reluctantly puckered up. 

Out of nowhere, a body with the vigor of a wild stallion in full sprint barrelled into her side, sending Riley hurling across the dais and causing her to land face-down on the marbled floor below.

"What is the meaning of this?" An enraged Constantine bolted up, his ire focused on Alyssa, hunkered down on all fours at his feet, striving to catch her breath.

Maxwell and Bertrand heard the commotion and came rushing to Riley’s side when they realized it was her sprawled out and jerking on the floor.  

"I'm so sorry, Your Majesty," an apologetic Alyssa said as she reached up for the hand Drake was offering. The King's glare at her was nerve-wracking as he waited for an explanation -- until Drake stepped up in front of her, blocking her view of the incensed monarch. "I can explain."

"I hope you can, young lady." Constantine glowered, baffled as to why Drake Walker was still standing between them … and mirroring every movement she made. When she shifted, he shifted. When she moved her arm, he did the same. Was this some type of game?

“Uh … um.” Alyssa's mind raced with excuses. She couldn't very well tell him the truth and make Riley or herself look bad -- she was still a representative of Duchy Domvallier. There was only one thing she could think of to say as she whipped around Drake and pointed at him. "This man pushed me!"

Drake's body stiffened at her accusation. "The hell you talking about?" 

She covered her eyes with a hand, pretending to sob. "I was on my way up here to pay my respects to you, sir, when this man ..." she paused to take in a fake stuttering breath, "... came out of nowhere and pushed me from behind. I tried to stop myself from running into anyone, but I couldn't. Too much momentum." Alyssa lowered her hand and stared at a wide-eyed Drake. "I’m just a small person, mister. Why would you do that? Why? What did I ever do to hurt you?"

"I never --"

"Drake?" The King eyed him sternly. "Is this true? Did you push this young woman?"

Drake’s defensive stance was no match for Alyssa’s pleading eyes, begging him to save her from this. “Please,” she mouthed.

He groaned, rolling his eyes. “I … I’m sorry, Sir. Lady Alyssa’s extremely long dress was dragging the floor and I stepped on it. When I lifted my foot off, she ... I don’t know … flung forward. I tried to grab her before she went flying, but she got away, and that must be why she thought I pushed her.” Drake lowered his gaze to Alyssa. “You really shouldn’t shop in the adult section, miss.”

“Is it possible you were mistaken, Lady ... Alyssa?”

She nodded. “Yes, that is surely possible,” she agreed in a rehearsed-sounding tone. “It’s all coming back to me now.”

“Well, then.” Constantine's contented glance drifted to Drake. “It’s good to know you didn’t push an innocent suitor on purpose, Drake. But just know this … I’ll be watching you.” 

“Looking forward to it, sir. Thank you, sir.” Drake quickly bowed his head as Constantine returned to his seat to greet the next guest. He grabbed Alyssa’s elbow and rushed her off to the side of the dais.

-----------

Maxwell knelt beside a disheveled Riley, helping her rise to her feet and dusting her off. 

“Lady Riley,” a scowling Bertrand glared, “what on earth is the meaning of this? The glory of House Beaumont is on the line tonight, and you’ve already made your first blunder. I told you, Maxwell, this was a mistake.”

Slightly dazed, Riley stumbled while massaging a sore wrist. Inclining her head so she could see him under the halo that drooped over her eyes, she retorted, “I was shoved, Berturd. It’s not like I did this on purpose. And thank you for your concern; I’m fine, by the way.”

“Shoved? By whom?” The three of them turned to see Alyssa and Drake scampering off to a corner. “It was Domvallier’s suitor?” Bertrand asked incredulously. “This is preposterous! It’s beneath Lord Rashad’s character to have his suitor and Drake Walker sabotage ours. I will have to go over there and put an end to this travesty at once.” 

“NO!” Riley and Maxwell barked.

"Bertrand. Why don't you let Riley and I handle them while you play damage control with the King? Unless ..." he smirked. " You want me to smooth things over with His Majesty? I have a lot to say about how Twinkle Toes just SAILED through the air at warp speed --"

"Dear God, no, Maxwell! There will be no need for your … input. But, you two, get results from Drake and that suitor. No funny business," he warned.

The two of them nodded in understanding. As soon as Bertrand turned his back and marched away, they both gave a knowing glance to the other before rushing over to Drake and Alyssa, who had just made it to a far corner of the ballroom, 

Alyssa yanked her elbow away from his vice-like grasp. “I believe we’re out of the clear; you can let go of me now.”

“Listen. I have to tell you something, ‘cause you need to know it ... “ Drake swallowed thickly, his rounded eyes focused squarely on the woman who’d just thrown him under the bus to King Constantine. He spoke as if he had something caught in his throat, “You--your-- uh -- ”

“And who made these damn shoes, anyway?” Alyssa complained as she hiked up the lower part of her dress and stepped out of her heels. Her already short stature lowered several inches. “They clearly hate short women and feet. Seriously, who thought walking around like a newborn calf was sexy?”

“Alyssa,” Drake tried again to speak through a strained voice, “You need to listen --”

“Hey!” Riley interrupted as she and Maxwell stepped up to them. “Why’d you push me off that stage thingy? And OH MY GOD, ALYSSA! YOUR --” Maxwell slapped a hand over Riley’s mouth, knowing exactly what her big mouth was getting ready to loudly announce.

Her frantic muffled words continued to blabber through his tightly clasped hand.

Alyssa gave him a confused look. “Maxwell, what are you doing?”

“Just stopping her before she told everyone within earshot ...” he paused fleetingly, lowering his gaze from the muddled expression on her face to her chest. “Your bosoms … well, they have emerged.”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you before,” a flustered Drake said as Alyssa let out a gasp and looked down. “You’ve been ... exposed … since --” He was quickly cut off again by her tiny wail as she fixed herself and dashed out of the ballroom, mortified, her arms crossed over her chest.

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

Riley tapped lightly on the women’s restroom door. “Lyss? You okay in there?”

“No!” Her pouty voice rang back. “I’m the laughingstock of this entire court.”

Maxwell chuckled, hollering back. “You don’t have to worry about that, Lady Alyssa. I’ve already got that title covered in spades.”

“You two need to get back to the ball,” Drake said gruffly, referring to the girls. “Liam will be arriving any minute.”

“You’re right. There are probably five people in there who still haven’t gotten an up close shot of my breasts.” Alyssa swung the door open, bitterly hitching up the front of her dress as she stepped out, and glared up at Drake as she walked by. “And you let me walk around like that!”

“I did not!” He flushed a deep, dark red. “I told you, that’s why I was standing in front of you, so no one would see … ugh, fuck it. Just -- let’s go, okay?” 

A remorseful Riley hugged Alyssa. “I’m so sorry my dumb ass was what caused this to happen to you. Thank you for making sure I didn’t make a fool of myself.”

Alyssa squeezed tighter. “It was way better that it happened to me than you. We can definitely have a good laugh over this by the time I’m, like, 150.” When they let go of one another, she smiled at her friend. “Come on, we have a ball to get back to. And you have a prince to dazzle.”

“Oh, you guys go on ahead. I need a minute to straighten up.”

Drake, Alyssa, and Maxwell headed back inside while Riley spent a few minutes in the bathroom wiping away the dust off her dress and getting her hair back in order as best as she could. Plus, she just needed a moment to herself; it was the first time since she woke up that morning that someone wasn’t hovering over her shoulder or trying to impress someone. There also were some major jitters happening knowing the Prince was arriving at any second.

Stepping out a few minutes later, Riley headed back down the hallway, hopeful she still appeared as presentable as when she arrived earlier. 

Dotted along the walls that trailed back to the ballroom were portraits and artwork of kings and queens. Judging by the large periwigs, justaucorps, and stockings over breeches depicted, obviously they were quite old. One particular painting caught her attention enough to halt her steps before she plastered on a naughty grin.

“Ohhhh, what do we have here?” Riley snickered, leaning in closer to get a better glimpse. “I see London, I see France, I see a very hung King without his pants.” She fanned a hand in front of her face and spoke as if she were Scarlett O’Hara herself. “My, my, my, Fabian, I haven’t seen a lot of those, but I do declare, you put all the Yanks I’ve been with to shame. I’d be remiss to not ask if you were generous enough to pass on certain sizable traits, say to … Oh, I don’t know, the current Crown Prince?”

“Frankly, my dear … I don’t think he gave a damn,” a deep voice quipped over her shoulder.

Riley spun around, her body crashing into the portrait and causing it to rattle against the wall and lean heavily. Her face burned red-hot as soon as she heard his voice, even though every ounce of blood in her body seemed to rush to her wobbly feet. Liam reached out, grasping hold of her arms to brace her as she stared back, slack-jawed and weak-kneed, at his half-masked face, smiling warmly. “L-L-Li --”

“My sincerest apologies if I startled you, my lady. Are you okay?”

Her throat was dry, and surely no one in all history had ever been as embarrassed as she was at that moment, but she managed to answer feebly, “I think … I pissed my pants.” They both looked down at the floor simultaneously, relief washing over them that there were no puddles. Riley closed her eyes and let out a heavy breath. “Oh, thank God.”

Liam chuckled, his twinkling blue eyes glued to her flustered face. “You’re just as beautiful as you were that night in New York, Riley Brooks.”

“Wait … you know that it’s me? Are you surprised? Are you upset? Do you think I’m some creepy stalker now? I swear I’ve never even touched a weapon.”

“Really? What happened to your bag of Chinese throwing stars?” Liam teased lightheartedly. Riley tilted her head in confusion. “You remember, the ones you were going to throw at me in the alley outside of your bar --”

“Oh. Yes. Right,” she laughed awkwardly as the memory came to her. “Yeah, I may have embellished the truth there a bit. Twenty-pound hams seem to be more my weapon of choice.” Riley hung her head. Why the hell did I just tell him that? When Bastien cleared his throat and gave Liam a pointed look, Riley knew their time was short. “I know you have to go, but I just need to know something: How did you know I was here? Maxwell tried to get in touch with you and never heard back. I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me showing up here.”

“I’ve been quite busy since leaving New York with preparations for the social season and the Masquerade kicking off this evening. But it was Drake who came pounding on my door this morning to fill me in. You can imagine my surprise when he told me that you were here, and, I quote, ‘brought her small aggressive friend with her as guard dog.’”

Riley smirked with a shrug. “Can ya blame a girl? I came to win. Besides, I really like you, Liam.”

He smiled. “I really like you too, Riley. But this isn’t New York. As much as I wish we could just pick up where we left off two nights ago, this entire series of events is set up not just to give me time with my potential matches, but also to give my parents, the Council, and the people of Cordonia time to get to know the future queen. From now on, everyone will be watching you and ... Lady Alyssa.” Liam paused to chuckle and shake his head in amusement. “You actually got your friend to pose as a fake suitor and somehow convinced an honorable and highly dignified member of the court to sponsor her?”

“Yeaaaah, I still don’t know how the hell I did that. I should get extra points for my manipulation skills”

Liam laughed. "I believe you mean, negotiation skills."

Riley nodded. "Yeah, those too."

Already well past the time to make his grand entrance, Bastien approached Liam to give the final warning. Liam acknowledged him and turned back to Riley. “I hope I’ll see you again later tonight, if you’ll save a dance for me. But until then …” He pressed her willing body against the wall, tracing the back of his forefinger along her velvety cheek. “ … just know how very, very, happy I am to have you here, Riley.” His lips were fire and ice when he leaned down to meet her equally fevered ones in a lingering kiss. And she melted right into him.

With that, Liam was whisked away by the head guard and made his way into the ballroom. As a panting Riley brushed her fingertips over the tingling in her bottom lip, she felt so many things all at once: relief that he was happy she was there and already knew everything regarding Alyssa, and that same exhilarating bliss that swept her off her feet two days ago when they shared their time together. But he was abundantly clear, this wasn’t New York anymore, and he still had a duty and obligation to Cordonia regardless of his apparent feelings for her. 

Riley let a puff of air and pushed her backside off the wall to return inside. Just as she did this, the crooked frame bearing the likeness of the late King Fabian she admired earlier fell from its hook and crashed to the floor, causing the ancient glass to shatter beside her. With her head shrunken into her shoulders, Riley slowly peeked out one eye and saw the damage. Glancing down one end of the hall to the other to see if anyone saw her, she glanced down at the shards and still fully intact artwork. Normally she would have hightailed it out of there, but she couldn’t help herself from giving her destruction parting words. 

“I guess you’re not … hung anymore.”

Then she bolted the hell out of there.

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

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[thecitythatdoesntsleep]

I’m the same anon who requested that collar whump and 🙌 it was so good!!!! if you want to go more whumpy I encourage it!!! The only limit I have is please no explicit smut. I’m fine with implied/referenced just not explicit. Otherwise you can go wild!!! I’d totally love to see it!!! thank you so much!! 💞💞💞

Awwh! I'm so super happy that you liked it, that pleases me greatly to know that it was enjoyable! I insist, for your kind words let me treat you to something extra whumpy!

Limits understood! Let's crank up the whump button and keep that 'too familiar' with Whumpee going. Mind if I add a pinch of obsession into that intimate whumper? You know, as a treat because you deserve it anon! Rewinding time a bit, this is before the first post.

(Tags/TW: Collar whump, Intimate Male Whumper, Female Whumpee, Kidnapping, Stalking, Obsession whump, Choking, Hanging, Swinging by neck, Neck whump, Broken bones, Noncon touching, referenced/implied noncon, Hot/Cold Whumper, Hair pulling, Drugging, Cursing/strong language, Vampire whump. )

"You were too naive, you know that?" Whumper stated, hand gripping a flawless face and watching pretty, gemstone eyes roll in their sockets. "You never saw me, all this time, watching you from afar."

"I hoped you'd notice, I really did. I was so messy a couple of times, I ran right into you and somehow you never even saw me." It almost sounded pained, the way Whumper said it. Thick with emotion as his grip on her jaw became more violent and drew her out of the haze.

"I don't know if I should be insulted... Or happy you're so oblivious to the world around you."

As soon as Whumpee made it through the fog, her features pinched in a grimace and the sight before her wasn't one she'd expected. She recognized him but couldn't place him anywhere, her mind telling her she'd definitely seen him before.

"But you're here now... and you're going to be my pet now. No one will ever know I didn't buy you, I made sure of it." The more he rambled, the more infatuated he became with touching her. First her shoulder, now he was holding her hand, bringing it to his lips for a clammy, tacky kiss.

"Y-You're all mine," He was frantic, panicked as if he was both excited and terrified for what he was actually doing. Having kidnapped and tranquilized her thus far.

"Like.. hell I am.." She rasped, watching him fight off a chuckle and lose almost instantly.

"Hah- You're not going to have a choice. I'm your Master and pets obey their masters." Whumper insisted, reaching for a collar that had been already chained up to a pipe in the basement ceiling. "I'm going to teach you how to behave down here first, then w-wh-when you're broken in, yeah? Then.. Then I'll let you upstairs like a real pet."

He grabbed her up by the hair and she flew into fight or flight as soon as she was lifted off the ground. He was big, she'd give him that. Tall, probably 6'4 and he definitely worked out and enjoyed his carbs at the same time.

She was on the shorter side, but she knew how to use her weight and no matter the tension on her hair; she wormed her whole body to wrench away from him. The force was messy, her system still getting used to the hazy, limpness in her limbs.

"Bad!" He growled in resonating anger, using the grip on her scalp to slam her head into the wall. The first obviously dazed her and the second left her stilling. "You're gonna wear your fucking collar! L-Like a good pet!"

She looked at him with stars in her vision and pain seeping from the back of her head, features cracking with lines of hatred. She could smell it, her skin had split open on the poorly constructed brick wall and it stung when it started fusing back together from her healing speed.

She couldn't let him know just how her body worked or she feared the worst of his wrath. He really seemed like a horror movie villain at this point, the way he stuttered and looked at her with such blatant, scrutinizing attention.

"T-Thats too high, take it down and I'll wear it." She tried to reason, feeling one of his hands grab around the front of her neck while the other repositioned in her hair.

"It's not training if it's not painful.. what would you learn from just wearing a collar?" He questioned, tone acidic like she was a moron for even thinking of suggesting such a thing.

Those damned drugs did her in, if only she'd been at full strength when he tried again to wrestle her over and up to the collar he had waiting on her. She could have thrown him across the room, easily, if he hadn't somehow managed to subdue her. Now it was a struggle to keep herself on the ground as the muscular human kept taking her footing away from her.

She kicked and kicked and even when she landed contact with his legs, she knew it wasn't strong enough to even pull a reaction from him. He eventually won, hoisting her up and latching the thick, chain collar around her neck to entrap her with her own weight. It was just in distance to let the tips of her outstretched toes barely brush the ground.

"There, now you can squirm all you want, you'll just go swinging." He mused, giving her a push by her hips and watching her uselessly grip above her in the swing.

She felt like at any moment, her neck would snap, a grinding sound in her bones giving a warning creak when she reached the highest point. Her vocal chords were ruthlessly crushed against the curvature of the chain and she couldn't stop the faux spasms she felt in long-deadened lungs. It felt like she was a human again, drowning or being smothered, only she hadn't needed real air in decades.

Choking gurgles of begging barely registered past how hard he'd started laughing. She was like a chandelier in a living room that a mischievous housemate knocked into. Swinging in whatever pattern or direction gravity took her until she learned that she'd only stop if she went still.

Finally whumper stopped her and grabbed her backside to lift her up against him, holding her face to face with a devious smile across his face. "You're l-like a piñata. It's kind of cute."

Her hands flew up and in a sound clap, cupped his ears in a deafening impact. Immediately his head started to ring and he dropped her with such force she nearly slammed into him again on the downswing.

Whumper covered his ears and shoved fingers in them, anxiously feeling for blood and unable to hear anything but an ambient whine. He was furious and the stunning pain left him staggering back a few paces to let her endure the remaining momentum. The faintest of garbled blubbering could be heard and it was his only hope that he hadn't been completely deafened.

"You stupid bitch.." He roared, louder than he'd realized in his current state. "Y-You just lost your fucking hands!"

A vicious latch onto one of her arms and his opposite hand grabbed her wrist, twisting and wrenching it beyond it's natural pivot. She grabbed onto his wrists, nails dug in but couldn't stop the force he'd held her with.

The crack was agonizing, it popped so many times and she would have vomited if not for the noose around her neck. The limb instantly radiated pain and fell limp, unable to hold upright on the destroyed joint. Muffled cries were distant to him and even though he was looking her in the face, she sounded soft.

She'd stopped swinging when he grabbed her second arm and gave the faintest of tugs back from his menacing grip. Begging, pleading without shaking her head or making a single noise.

He ignored it. Snapping the second joint in a long twist and the satisfaction that he had with the feeling of breaking a bone was maddening. He savored it, giving an extra roll this time and really feeling the damage he'd done inside her skin.

"I bet you'll behave for me now, wont you?" He picked her up once more, this time leaving space between their upper halves in hesitation. When she left her hands at her sides, he was pleased with the progress they'd already made.

"God, even when you're in pain and have spit all down your face, you're still pretty." Whumper praised, taking his hold on her a bit easier now, lifting her up by the backs of her thighs and encouraging them to wrap around his waist for reprieve.

They did, as disgusting as it felt it relieved the tension on her neck and she was almost grateful in just that short time alone.

He pet her head fondly now, pushing down the strands he'd frizzed and upset and he pulled his sleeve over his hand to wipe her mouth. Her lips hung open like she was panting but no breath escaped her, throat desperately trying to clear with small growls and hacks.

"I've never seen you blush until now, I feel special." Whumper pushed her bangs back and returned down her face with a loving sweep while holding her; thumb tracing her lower lip.

"I can't believe you're finally all mine. I get to keep you forever and ever and... You can't escape me anymore." As if his mind was looping through all the times he'd thought about her or thought about kidnapping her, he stared into her eyes blankly.

Even if she didn't remember, he certainly did. Every encounter, every time he'd sent her a drink at the bar and been to shy to say something. When she flat out rejected him for a dance. The time she'd gotten in a taxi with him and he didn't say anything to her. The week he'd paid for her coffee in the drive thru, strategically, every day getting ahead of her in line.

It had all been worth it.

"You can't reject me anymore. You can't hide.. or brush me off or ignore the gifts I get you." The more he rambled, he less he was looking at her and the more he was looking through her. He framed her body, wrapped along her curves with a curious hand. He abandoned the hold and let her support herself when he couldn't handle not touching her with both of them.

"Now.. I can finally love you how you deserve.."

-

Sorry it took me so long to get to this anon! I hope this is respectful of your wishes and not too much towards the descriptive side. I also tried to go with the same tropes you'd requested but just make it more miserable. ; ^ ;

I know there is a very thin border to intimate whump and it can transition beyond the boundaries very easily. So if you have any critiquing or things to avoid that could help in the future, I'd love to know so I can gain some more versatility. I would (ideally) love to be able to cater to all requests in all forms and insight will only help me with that goal.

Another apology for the wait. Had some personal life stuff come up and wasn't in the feelings to write much. But I'm back on the rise and I'm hoping to get to everyone's messages and requests within the next few days.

I will not be doing first come first serve, I'm just doing whatever inspires me with this batch. Sorry if anyone thinks that's unfair, it's just how it is for me as a writer. This is 1 out of 7 asks and I don't even remember which ones came first because I immediately convert them into drafts. : ( But thank you so much for the req! Hope you enjoyed. <3

[atinysunbaby]

Meant to be | Choi San 🖤

Warnings : Cursing, violence, mention of rape.

Words count : 2.2 k

Previous 《 Prologue

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Present

My cheeks are burning from the salty tears escaping my eyes. A tightening feeling in my chest growing by the minute. The sobs keep escaping me, making my body move uncontrollably. Chocking from the sharp inhales and shaking from the cold temperature. This moment, forever will be imprinted in my mind. Those images I wish I could forget, unfortunately will hunt me till my last breath.

I suppose it's what most people feel too when they lose their parents. I wanted to deny it, but I saw their bodies. They were cold, bruised, bloody and no longer held any signs of life.

The last time a saw them, I didn't bother much to say goodbye to them. Only telling them to enjoy their little vacation in the woods. I was more exited about being alone then making them know how much I loved them. Now it's too late, I'll never be able to see their faces again, hear their voices, feel their arms around me when I need them the most.

I woke up to my cellphone ringing this morning, answering grumpily, thinking it was my mom who disturbed me from my sleep. It was actually the cops telling me to come to the hospital, but I wish it would've been her instead. I wish she could annoy me every morning now, but it's over. She isn't here anymore and neither is my dad.

I'm in my room, at this moment, crying my heart out. I ran out of the hospital immediately after seeing their corpses. They wanted me to identifie them, but I left with people screaming for me to comeback. I guess they probably know from my reaction, that it was indeed my mom and dad.

People keep calling me on my phone, but I don't answer. I'm laying on the floor, looking at the ceiling, waiting for my sadness to subside. I know that won't happen anytime soon, but it's the only way for me to calm down. Being surrounded by people telling me how sorry they are for my loss. A bunch of fake assholes making me feel even worse about the situation definitely won't make anything better.

Slowly my eyes get heavy, I try to fight the exhaustion but fail miserably. I fall asleep on the cold floor of my room, my window open and the sound of rain filling my ears. All of this crying definitely used up a lot of my energy.

The car crash, I wasn't there and I have no idea of what happened. But I see it, something is in the middle of the road and dad just told mom a joke. They're laughing.. until they hit that thing, an animal maybe. It goes right through the window and kill my dad instantly, but as for my mom. The car rolls off the road and fall down a small cliff. Mom's still alive, she's in pain, blood everywhere, she's crying for her husband to open his eyes and answer her. She keeps screaming that she can't feel him anymore? His presence? Her breathing is getting worse the more she panics. Suddenly the door on her side opens and something stabs her in the chest, putting a end to her desperate cries. Blood is streaming down her chin, her eyes looking directly through mine while she takes her last breath.

I open my eyes to see nothing but darkness. I frantically search for a sign of light, I reach around with my hands. My eyes are open wide and my breath shaky, until my fingers brush against an object. I stop every movement, slowly gripping it and letting a breath of relieve when I realise it's my phone.

I turn it on to see a ton of messages and missed calls. One standing out, my aunts name, my mom's sister. I never talked to her, but mom insisted on giving me her number. I look around my room and stand up to look outside the window, only to notice that it's night time. The reason of the darkness and freezing temperature. I close it and turn the lights on in my room. Then I sit on the corner of my bed and hesitate a few minutes while looking at the screen in front of me. My fingers finaly press on call. A few rings later, Aunt Kath's voice is heard. "Y/N! Y/N is it you?"

"Yes it's me.. why did you cal-" I'm cut off by a loud sob. My eyes widen in confusion, but I soon remember that my mom, her sister is no longer a part of this world. I sigh and wait for her to stop crying on the other side of the line. "S-sweetie- where are you? Are you safe? You're not alone ar-"

"Kath, my parents just died. I'm obviously not partying right now, but I'm okay.. I guess.." She stays silent for the next few seconds, my blunt answer probably wasn't expected, but it's understandable. "Sweetheart-I uhh.. you have no one to stay with right? So.. your mom made me your godmother, i-in case anything happened to her.. will you come live w-with me, here in Korea?"

It takes some time to process what just came out of her mouth, my eyebrows are furrowed. Many feelings are fighting to take control of my body, but the one that wins is frustration. "W-what?.."

"She told me to take care of you if she wasn't there anymore... It was just a precaution, but I guess it really happened." She says with a small voice, trying not to upset me further. Judging from my lack of response, she can tell I'm not that excited about this new information. "I asked you, but it ins't really a choice that you have. It's an obligation, you can't stay alone out ther-"

I hang up, not wanting to listen even for one more second. I need some time to think about it. She's right, I don't have much of a choice. I turned seventeen not too long ago and I don't have any family member here. At least none that I know of. I sigh defeated, once again pressing on my godmother's contact.

She picks up not even a second later, as if she knew I was gonna call her back. She doesn't say a word, waiting for me to start talking. I clear my throat after freeing my lower lip from my teeth. "How will I get there? How about my clothes and everything else in the house? My parents' funera-"

"I'll take care of everything you don't have to worry, just bring the necessary and I'll transfer some money on your account so you can pay for your plane ticket. As for the ride to my house, my boyfriend will pick you up" She spend a whole hour explaining to me how everything will go and I agree after hesitating for a while. If my mom gave Kath the role of godmother, she must trust her. So I will trust her too, anyways I don't really have a reason not to. She's been nice till now and she'll even welcome me in her house, she's taking me in. "Thank you Kath, I really appreciate it. I don't know what I would've done if I was all alone."

Days later

I prepared all my stuff, ready to fly to Korea. It took me a while to accept, but eventually I warmed up to it. It's an opportunity for me, to start over. A new life full of adventure, new environment and culture. I want to explore the world so why not start there.

Unfortunately though, I had to say goodbye to all my friends. We cried and spend the last few days together. We promised to text each other everyday and not to forget about one another. Sad thing is, my friends aren't the only ones I need to leave behind. It's hard to leave the place I grew up in, my house, my neighbourhood, my city, everything.

In a few hours, everything I ever knew will all be in the past. Only the memories will stay, the rest, all gone. So the day my parents died, I didn't only lose them, but my life too. The life they gave me. Now, I have to make a new one, by myself.

Landing in Korea

The flight was boring and quite annoying, I didn't know what to do. A baby cried for what felt like years and a couple had an argument at some point. Then the person next to me started to snore so loudly I thought the plane was crashing. I'm glad to finaly be on the ground, the loud voices of people speaking indistinctly seeming to sooth me from what I went through previously.

I sit on one of the chairs in the airport waiting for James, my godmother's boyfriend. He'll drive me to their house, apparently Kath arranged a room for me already. She doesn't have any kid, so she's looking forward to having me over.

"Y/N!!" I jump from the chair almost falling on my ass. I luckily manage to stay on my two feet and not make a fool of myself. Upon hearing a chuckle, I turn around and see an old looking dude smirking at me, maybe in his late forties. "Umm.. Hi can I help you?"

"James, I came to pick you up remember?" He asks while pointing at himself. I'm still unsure, he's looking at me weirdly. I can feel an odd vibe from him. It makes me feel uncomfortable, but I push it aside and nod before following him.

We enter his rusty jeep, the doors creaking when moving. Despite the outside looking a bit ugly, the inside is clean. The only negative point would be the smell, cigarette and..alcohol? Paying a bit more attention to the smell though, it doesn't only come from the jeep. The man next to me is even worst, it seems that he might shower rarely. Subtly, I bring my sweater paws to my nose, looking outside to distract myself.

"So, Y/N! How you holding up?" His loud and deep raspy voice makes me jump for the second time. I turn a bit a towards him not to be impolite and think before answering him. "I guess it's a bit easier then I expected. I didn't think that I'd feel any better, but after a few days it prove me wrong. But I feel bad, to already move on.."

He hums next to me, nodding his head lazily. I wait for him to add something, but the car is filled with silence. I'm relieved he doesn't speak further, not really being in the mood to have a whole conversation, especially with someone I don't know. So, slowly I turn back around towards the window. My mind drifting to the events that happened in just a few weeks, everything is so fucked up. Fortunately, Kath and James decided to help me.

About an hour past since we came out of the airport. We just entered a forrest, James informed me that it'll take a while still. He insisted that I should go to sleep and when I'll wake up, we'll be home. I ponder for some time, but eventually agree. It doesn't take long for me to fall asleep due to not being able to get much sleep in the plane.

I wake up when the car come to an halt, a man's voice coming from next to me. Curses escaping his mouth, confused I open my eyes. The events from the previous hours coming back to me, tears threatening to escape my eyes. My body shaking slightly from fear, uncontrollably.

The ride was a lot longer then what James had told me it would be and I slept, only to be woken up by a hand covering my mouth. Horrible things happened in that car and it wasn't a nightmare, no mather how much I wish it was one. He said he would tell Kath it took us some time because of the traffic and the airport. Then he threatened to kill me if I open my mouth.

I can't let him see me crying, I don't want him to have another reason to hurt me. Despite being terrified and completely drained from energy, I swallow the bill in my throat and wipe the tears from my eyes. While I'm breaking down, next to me James is whistling and turning the car off. Announcing with a loud scream to Kath that we arrived.

"Omg! Y/N! Sweetie you really are here." Kath comes out of the house shouting happily, her arms open, waiting for me to give her a hug. I rush to open the door, but a hand grabs my arm. His nails dig in my skin and I whimper, both from fear and pain. "Remember. You talk, you die."

He puts my bag in my hand, pretending to be helping me. Finally I escape the horrible vehicle and run into my godmother's arms with a heavy heart. The second she engulfs me in her warmth, sobs spill from deep within me. She cries with me but not for the same reason. She cries because she lost her sister and now I'm here. I, cry because I've lost my parents, I lost my house, my friends. Because I've been raped less then an hour ago. Because I feel completely broken and hopeless. The new life I wanted for myself, only starts with even more problems then I had before.

Next 》 Chapter 2

[we-love-imagines]

Little Secret

Valentine’s Event: Happy Valentine’s Day!

Prompt: Kakyoin + Tattoos

Ao3 Link

Author’s Note: Hey guys! Happy Valentine’s Day! I hope you’ve enjoyed my little fic collection over this past week, it was so much fun to write! I’d like to thank @magthemage for beta reading all these stories! Go read her stuff, she’s awesome!

This story in particular is an everyone lives! au, where you are a former Stardust Crusader, and you, Kakyoin, and Jotaro are all college students who enroll in an American University and share an apartment. Also, while the reader is gender-neutral, I did say they were smaller than the rest of the crusaders... sorry if you’re a beefcake! There’s also the tiniest bit of suggestiveness, but no actual nsfw. Everyone in this fic is aged up to be over 21, and please drink responsibly! Enjoy!

“Kakyoin!” You exclaimed, wrapping your arm around your sober friend’s shoulder, “C’mon, it’ll be so cool!”

“Yeah, we can all get ‘em in the same spot too! It’ll be so rad! C’mon, even Jotaro is down!” Polnareff slurred from the other side of the table, motioning to Jotaro who only gave a solemn thumbs up.

“We are not getting matching tattoos,” Kakyoin deadpanned, getting tired of all his companion’s drunk antics. It’s funny- after defeating Dio, he thought all his troubles were over. But, because the injuries he got in Egypt rendered him unable to drink, he was forever doomed to be the designated driver.

Unluckily for him, this was a rowdy group to handle.

“Kakyoin,” Mr.Joestar placed a hand on his shoulder, brushing you off of him, “We’ll even let you pick. It’s not as cool if we don’t all get one.”

“You’re all wasted,” he chuckled, looking at how all of his friends swayed, red in the face, letting the conversation wander aimlessly after way too many shots. After you all defeated Dio, you made it a tradition to meet up and celebrate the bastard’s death by getting as plastered as possible. While you still saw the others fairly regularly, seeing as you, Jotaro, and Kakyoin became roommates after high school, it was nice to have the others fly in to see everyone again.

Kakyoin watched as Jotaro and Avdol sat in silence, the former’s signature cap pulled over his eyes. They were subdued drunks, getting all quiet when under the influence. Kakyoin noticed how Avdol would turn a tad introspective after a few shots, abruptly bringing up thought-provoking questions like “Do Stands Dream?” or “Where do the clouds go after they roll by?” Jotaro, on the other hand, tended to mellow out. His short fuse stretched out a bit when he was drunk, and for once, he could take a joke.

Polnareff and Joseph, on the other hand, embodied pure chaos. Joseph would always try to instigate things: karaoke, bar fights, getting matching tattoos, and Polnareff would sing his praises and go along with all of his crazy schemes. Somehow, the Frenchman would get even louder, barking for the bartender to bring him more shots so he could out-drink everyone in the building.

Then, there was you. While you could certainly hold your booze better than others of your stature, you were no match for the hulking giants that were your fellow crusaders. So, while you kept pace with them while you were drinking, you would get shit-faced before they were feeling the slightest bit buzzed. While you were usually pretty fun and adventurous, the alcohol in your system turned that up to eleven, making you down for anything and everything.

“Wouldn’t it be so cool to get something together?” You grinned to Kakyoin, eyes wide with excitement, “To show how close we are after everything that happened, Jotaro?”

“You’re talking to Kakyoin, (Y/n),” he sighed, calling the bartender over for the bill. You had all had more than enough for the night.

“Then why are you wearing that funny hat, hm?” You said, flicking Kakyoin’s pronounced bang with a giggle. You were trashed. Kakyoin thought about your impending wrath tomorrow, and having to deal with a hangover for the ages.

“What would we get for a tattoo? Dio’s name?” Polnareff asked the group, sitting back in the booth seat. Jotaro, with surprisingly little bite in his voice, grumbled and shook his head.

“I’m not getting that asshole’s name anywhere on my body.”

“Y’know that picture we took? When we first got to Egypt?” Joseph spoke up, “We could all get that across our backs!”

“That’s way too complex!” Polnareff protested with a smile. You got everyone’s attention when you slapped your hands down on the table with a thundering ‘boom.’

“Guys,” you beamed, pure excitement in your voice, “Iggy. Tramp. Stamps.”

The table fell silent as everybody stared at you blankly. For a moment, Kakyoin thought everyone would laugh at your silly idea. That was the tackiest tattoo anyone has ever thought up!

Polnareff, with a look as serious as death, gave a resounding “Hell yeah!”

After that, all hell broke loose, as even the more subdued members of the group went along with the idea. It was agreed that Iggy, who Polnareff took in after everything went down, would get a collar with his own face on it in solidarity. Despite the risqué location, everyone seemed pumped to get matching tramp stamps of the world’s grumpiest Boston Terrier. Even Jotaro was nodding along as the more vocal members rambled on and on.

“Okay, it’s time to go,” Kakyoin shouted over the group, causing the uproar to die down for a moment, “I’m driving, let’s get in the car.”

“Oh my gosh, he’s doing it,” you cheered, wrapping Kakyoin in a tight, powerful hug, “Kakyoin’s gonna drive us to the tattoo parlor!”

The others broke out in celebration, high-fiving each other as they readied themselves to get all inked-up. The bartender gave Kakyoin a sorry look as he herded everyone into his car, having to walk you there the whole way as you stumbled through the parking lot.

It seemed that everyone felt dizzy as they stood up from their seats, and while Polnareff and Joseph were still a little talkative, the car’s atmosphere was a lot more relaxed than the bar’s. Kakyoin had done this drive a few times before, having to calm down his former travel companions after a hearty night of drinking, so he had it down to a science. Putting a CD labeled “Joseph had a Crazy Idea -Mix” into the player, Kakyoin drove around the block a few times, waiting patiently for the conversation to die down.

Soon enough, the car fell silent as everyone stooped into a drunken haze, bodies limp in their seats as they nearly dozed off to sleep. However, you were buckled into the passenger’s seat, lightly snoring as you drifted into dreamland. Just as expected.

As Kakyoin slowly dropped off the various men at their hotels, who had forgotten about their planned misadventure in their intoxicated stupor, he found himself smiling at your sleeping form as you wormed around in your seat. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t have feelings for you- he knew he did all the way back when you two were teenagers, when you saved him from certain death at Dio’s hand- and seeing you like this always warmed his heart. You were a battle-hardened badass like the rest of them, having seen Dio’s horrors at an age that was simply too young for comfort; but here you were, sleeping peacefully with the giddiest look on your face imaginable.

Sometimes, being your roommate was hard. He knew you were so close, that he could just walk over to your room and confess his ever-growing feelings for you whenever he wanted, that one day he could share a bed with this sleeping angel right next to him. It was on days like this that he realized why he liked you so much: you were kind, cute, and a lot more fun then he was.

Pulling up to your apartment, Jotaro slowly made his way out of the backseat, not even giving Kakyoin a passing glance as he went into the apartment. Leaving Kakyoin to deal with your passed out form, the red-head sighed, unbuckling your seatbelt as he pulled your from the car. He carried you up a flight of stairs, careful not to let you stir, using Hierophant to open the apartment’s door.

Jotaro looked dead, passed out face-down on the couch. Kakyoin rolled his eyes as Hierophant pulled a blanket over his friend- he’d be a pleasure to deal with in the morning. 

“Jotaro,” you giggled out, taking Kakyoin by surprise as you lightly flicked his bang around, “Are we at the tattoo parlor yet?”

Kakyoin quickly tried to shush you, rushing into your room so as to not wake your more aggressive roommate, “No, (Y/n), I’m Kakyoin.”

“Jotaro,” you repeated, much to Kakyoin’s sober displeasure, “Do you think Kakyoin is gonna get the tattoo?”

“I don’t think so, you should try and get some rest,” he whispered to you, setting you down on your bed. He helped you take off your shoes, and despite being in full dress, you make yourself cozy under the covers.

“That’s too bad,” you sighed dramatically, looking up at him through blurry vision, “I was hoping I could see his ass while he got his tattoo. You know how much I like his butt!”

Taken back by your comment, Kakyoin couldn’t stop the hearty laugh that slipped through his lips. He knew he shouldn’t press this topic further, but he was so amused he couldn’t help himself.

“You like Kakyoin’s ass, huh?”

“Duh!” you laughed along with the man, despite not knowing what ‘Jotaro’ found so funny, “Have you seen him in that one pair of skinny jeans he owns? Hot Damn!”

Kakyoin started laughing even harder, wishing he could record this conversation and show it to you later. You’d probably kill him, but this was a nice treat after a long night of dealing with a hollering group of drunken idiots. However, he couldn’t help but feel all warm and fuzzy at your words- did you really find him attractive? It felt really nice to be thought of that way, especially by you.

“I think that ass is made of pure boyfriend material, if you ask me,” you snorted, taking Kakyoin completely by surprise, “Jojo, I know you tell me to just man-up and ask him out, but I don’t wanna scare him away. If he doesn’t like me anymore, he won’t take me to get tattoos!”

Kakyoin froze, trying to process everything he just heard. While cheesy, he never wanted to forget that ‘boyfriend material’ line, or the way your voice softened while you spoke about him. He was in awe of the fact that you had feelings for him- feelings so strong that they had to be confided in Jotaro- and how you feared that he wouldn’t be interested. The red-head was puzzled by your doubts. How could someone as wonderful as you ever not be enough? How could you ever think he didn’t return your feelings? Sometimes, he felt like his feelings were obvious- but, here he was, standing before you as you wearily blinked up at him, eyelids becoming heavy.

“Shhhhh, don’t tell him!” You yawned, weakly dragging your finger over his lips, “Wake me when we get to the tattoo parlor...”

Kakyoin watched your head clunk down onto the pillow, and you were out like a light. After tucking you in, he left the room feeling a little guilty; that was obviously a secret you didn’t want him to hear. However, at the same time, he was over the moon. The person he had admired for years was suddenly in his grasp, finally attainable after years and years of silent pining. 

Before he went to bed, Kakyoin made a point to pull his skinny jeans from his closet, laying them out on top of his dresser. He’d be needing them for tomorrow- he wanted his ass to look good while he asked you out, is all.

[azure-bliss]

shinran oneshot

Fandom: DC

Pairing: Shinran

Excerpt: 

“Shinichi,” she whispered, warm blue orbs losing focus as she looked at him, though her smile remained. She rose her hand to caress his cheek (she’s so, so cold). “You found us.”

Her chapped lips met his, and then, “Arigato.”

A/N: I swear that this was supposed to be fluffy but brain said nope, angst-infused it is. Also, I’m no expert in medicine nor the Japanese police system, even criminology for that matter. Spare me. Enjoy!

Day 9

“I should write a book.”

Shinichi’s first instinct was to snort, as he was reminded of Kogoro-ojisan’s—who he should really be calling otousan nowadays—intention of becoming a mystery novelist, much like his actual father. Kudo Yusaku had made millions writing his thrillers, and today, years after the older Kudo patriarch decided to publish his final novel, he was still adding money to the Kudo fortune.

Perhaps his mother playing the titular character in one of Night Baron’s spinoff adaptations, Lady Baron, played a huge factor too. His parents were weird that way, almost like a tag-team, because the moment Kudo Yusaku announced his writing retirement, Kudo Yukiko came out of hers.

It was as if they thought that the world could not handle more than three (he was pretty sure his popularity was on par with his parents, despite his lack of big screen appearances) famous Kudos at a time.

“Finally jumping on the full Kudo experience?” he teased, adjusting himself on the hospital bed where his wife sat, left arm wrapped around her whole frame, right palm covering hers.

Eyes focused on the little bundle in her arms, she hummed before answering, “A best-seller for sure.”

As if on cue, their newborn squirmed before revealing twin orbs that matched his mother’s, unfocused eyes looking up to the woman who went through hell and back prior to his birth.

“Anata,” she called, her tired voice laced with a hint of excitement. “He’s beautiful.”

 Day 1

He stood in an abandoned room of an equally abandoned motel located just 50 km on the outskirts of Tokyo, the very location that had him and nearly the whole Tokyo Metropolitan Police Taskforce wrecking their brains and exhausting their resources to find. The identified suspect was one Seisaku Miyazaki, a serial rapist and killer with a tendency for flairs. The 27 crime scenes he left always had distinct blood splatter to them, resulting from either gunshot wounds straight to the temple, or intraoral ones.

Shinichi had never seen a crime scene so gruesome in his life.

As soon as Shinichi stepped into the room, the first thing he should have registered was the blood-spattered left wall and Seisaku’s limp and lifeless body on a chair in the same left corner, his riffle trapped in between his legs.

Instead, Shinichi’s frantic eyes zeroed on the figure on the bed in the middle of the room, merely 10 feet away from Seisaku’s body. The woman had her back against the headboard with an ungodly amount of blood running down her bottom half, arms cocooning a small bundle wrapped with a violet-colored cardigan—the same one she was last saw wearing before her disappearance.

She had her eyes on her baby, as if the newborn was the only person who mattered, seemingly unbothered by the chaos unfolding before her. It took the lead detective a full five seconds to notice that the newborn—oh God, their newborn—was not crying.

He was beside her in her flash, holding her tighter than he should. His wife was again, unbothered, but he noticed that she closed their baby more to her semi-naked chest. The cuts and bruises on her face and torso did not go unnoticed by him. All of Seisaku’s victims had the same markings, but unlike those women who bled from their heads, she was bleeding from bottom down.

Kudo Shinichi screamed for the medic.

It was only then did he hear a soft cry, and he released a breath he did not know he was holding.

“Anata,” she called, finally removing her gaze from their son to look at him “He’s beautiful.”

Her face was pale and hollow, but there was no mistaking the warmth in her eyes and the gentleness of her smile.

His heart both bloomed and broke for her.

“Ran,” he choked out the name he’d been desperately calling for the past few hours. “You’re going to be okay.”

When the medic team finally appeared, his wife first handed the closest medic the baby, “Take care of him, onegai,” she requested, sounding too much like a plea. “He’s a good boy.”

Releasing her son’s warmth, the brunette fell back onto her husband, who caught her naked shoulders, throwing her full weight onto his.

“Shinichi,” she whispered, warm blue orbs losing focus as she looked at him, though her smile remained. She rose her hand to caress his cheek (she’s so, so cold). “You found us.”

Her chapped lips meet his, and then, “Arigato.”

With a sigh of relief, she shut her eyes, and rolled limp further into her husband’s embrace.

Shinichi’s world stood still, the only things registering in his mind were his wife’s cold body, and their newborn’s loud cries in the distant.

 Day 8

She was in pure fight mode, forcing her body to function and conscious to stay awake. Once she knew that her child was safe, all the injuries and agony finally caught up to her, and she welcomed the numbing darkness.

The last thing Ran remembered was Shinichi’s rapid heartbeat drumming her ears.

The new mother woke up a week later, on an unfamiliar bed, to the familiar but tormented eyes of her husband.

“Baby,” she mustered breathily, and her husband’s eyes all but softened.

She knew that they were safe.

   Day 10

It was another two whole days before she was deemed fit enough to hold her newborn.

“Anata,” she beams, “He’s beautiful.”

“He is,” the Heisei-Reiwa Holmes agreed. “The brat gave the doctors and nurses a fright with his fever, would not stop crying too.”

If his wife was worried, she did not show it. “Is that true?” she cooed, “But you’re okay now, aren’t you sweetheart? Your Papa found us after all.”

Day 0

Kudo Ran did not fit Seisaku Miyazaki’s victim profiles by the slightest. The females he preyed on were usually late teens to early twenties, lived alone, physically petite, and had questionable practices in their private lives.

Or, in the words of Seisaku himself, whores.

Catching the serial killer had been the detective’s top priority, with the death count at 27 and the most recent killings at the heart of Tokyo, it was one of the most challenging cases for him to date.

With half of the murders in Tokyo and the other half in Osaka, it was a no brainer for both Detective of the East and West to join hands, special taskforces from Tokyo and Osaka rallying under their (unofficial) command. The investigation had been ongoing for more than four months before special unit finally made a definite progress, being able to identify a potential victim, shadowing her day and night, coming in to save her just in time from being abducted, and arresting Seisaku’s paid minion.

Genzo Okubo was no Seisaku, the two detectives figured. The latter was confident, methodical, a true psychopathic mastermind, yet the man they caught fumbled with his words, sweated profusely, and most importantly, had little loyalty as he quickly confessed to everything.

The unit rejoiced, but Shinichi and Heiji knew that it was too simple, as if Seisaku wanted Gento to be caught.

By the time they were finished with the guy, it was already 2 a.m.

The lack of miscalls from him wife caught him off guard.

He tried not to panic, reasoning to himself that Ran was probably at her parents’, fell asleep, and his in-laws forgot to inform him. After all, it would not be the first time this had happened. If anything, the Mouris had not stopped fussing over their daughter, and with this case constantly on his mind, Shinichi had not really been the doting husband and father-to-be that he ought to be. Their six-year-old twins were away with his parents somewhere in New York, the elder Kudo couple wanting to give the once-again new parents space to get ready for the youngest Kudo’s arrival.

Halfway through dialing Eri’s number (because his mother-in-law was a light sleeper), Heiji burst into the break room with a suspicious package in his hands.

“Kudo,” the dark-skinned detective panted, as if he just ran up flights of stairs instead of taking the elevator, “that bastard’s got Nee-chan.”

Inside the package were two things: a picture of a very pregnant Kudo Ran, blindfolded and gagged, and a lone platinum wedding band.

  Day 10

“He panicked.”

“Hmm?”

“Seisaku-san, he panicked.” His wife stated, the name of her kidnapper rolling of her tongue like she was mentioning a student of hers. “I started having contractions, started bleeding too. He mumbled something about ‘not following his plan’.”

Shinichi rose his brows, puzzled by Ran’s statement, but he let her continue.

“I think,” she paused, readjusting her hold on their son when they boy started to writhe, “that he was halfway out when Seisaku-san decided to shoot himself.”

Her voice was cool, too indifferent, and deep down, Shinichi knew that his wife may be scarred for life.

“Three sounds,” she gulped then snickered. “Me screaming during the final push, the baby’s cries, and the riffle going off.”

Shinichi held her tighter.

“His blood was everywhere, Shinichi. On the walls, the carpet, the bed, my face,” There are now cracks in her voice, the memories flooding her overwhelmed mind as she remembers it all again, “On our baby boy.”

“Ran…” He trailed off, not knowing what to say. His wife and son were alive, but the trauma she went through was something he wished on no one, not even Seisaku himself.

“I didn’t want him to get cold, so I wrapped him with my cardigan. Not the most hygienic, I know, but I didn’t exactly have many choices,” a chuckle. “He locked the door, so I couldn’t escape, and I couldn’t exactly kick the door open, my energy was spent on giving birth. So, I started breastfeeding the baby, burping him…making sure he was alive long enough for you to find us.”

Something in him shattered even more.

Ran averted her eyes away from their son to look at her husband, their faces only a few centimeters apart.  There were no tears in their eyes, the pain and regret that remained in their hearts too crushing to be expressed by mere crying. “I’m safe, our boy is safe, because you found us. None of this is your fault, so please, Anata,” she kisses him before continuing, “don’t blame yourself.”

Shinichi could not imagine what life would be without her. She was his wife, partner, lover, best friend, soulmate, the mother of his children, his world, his everything.

“Okay,” he promised simply, capturing her lips for a second time before kissing her forehead. “I love you.”

He felt her smiling into his neck, and at that moment, nothing was wrong; they were whole.

They stayed like that for a few more moments, savoring the peaceful yet short time they had with their baby boy before one of the nurses took him away for the night.

    Day 11

 “Your book,” Shinichi remembered far into the night. “What are you going to write about?”

A mischievous look twinkled in Ran’s eyes, and the man knows that his wife will heal just fine. “Kidnapped 101.”

- end

A/N: Nope, not their firstborn. And I also imagine that Ran has had her fair share of getting kidnapped so might as well write a book on it lmao. 

[kurinoot]

[day 1] one box of chocolates | tendou satori

-> you’ve been wanting to surprise your boyfriend with your own batch of chocolates and better yet, grace him with your presence this coming valentines. to your shock, you got more than what you thought it would be.

pairing: tendou x reader

themes: fluff, post-timeskip

word count: 2125 words

author’s note: I can’t believe I’m writing again! hahaha, and tendou being my first haikyuu character to create a fic uwu anyways, he was kinda hard to write on as he only got shots from seasons 3 and 4, so this may somehow seem ooc but please, I do accept constructive criticisms :) enjoy!

btw, I added a music in specific parts of the story so you can play them if you want so as to add some touches while you’re reading :)

"Ah, I hope the chocolates haven't melted yet!", you sigh tiredly with worry as you scramble your hand inside your carry-on bag, carefully checking your box of handmade chocolates as you make your way through the bustling Paris Charles de Gaulle Airport. The almost 14-hour non-stop flight has definitely taken a toll on you and the jet lag is definitely not helping you either.

You finally feel the cold air kissing your skin as you drag your way out of the airport, gingerly carrying your baggage all the while ensuring that your handmade gift is in good hands. Apparently, you weren't informed that Paris in February would require you more layers of clothing than what the thin sweater you’re wearing could offer. With a rush, you immediately went to the nearest vacant taxi. You rattled your brain for some basic French, muttering a soft “Bonjour” as you pinpoint the driver to your phone, showing him your destination. After a while, you finally feel the weight of the jet lag in your body. You deeply sigh as you finally let yourself sink in the back seat of the taxi. The driver seemed to know something, if you fumbling with your words and the way you slumped on the back seat was a sign.

"Rough day, mademoiselle?", the driver asks you in English (to, at least, your surprise) with a rough French accent, smiling. You brighten up a bit despite the stress, "Uh yes, monsieur. Am I right? It's probably the jet lag, but yeah.".

"Don't worry, your basic French is good! So, what is a young mademoiselle doing here alone? And on Valentines’ Day?”

“Ah merci! I’m actually here to visit this chocolate shop.”, you reply with a bright smile as you pinpoint your phone to the said location once again. He grins, to your surprise.

“Ah yes! That shop is actually famous around these parts, especially this Valentines’ season. Although, the owner is quite weird and even creepy for most people from what I heard around here.”, he mentions, and despite getting accustomed to how most people see Satori, you felt your hand cusp into a fist as you gritted your teeth, seething in annoyance and preparing to fight back or even to get off the taxi.

“Yet despite the rumors, he’s a kind young man. Eccentric one, I admit, but he knows the chocolate fit for the customer. Hell, he even helped me pick for my wife!” The driver continues, chuckling at the memory.

You feel all the anger in you disappear, proud of your boyfriend, as it was somewhat kind of rare for you to hear good compliments about him, “That’s just probably how other people see him. I would say, he’s a tad too eccentric for most people. He’s kind and soft-hearted and cute if you get to know him beyond the surface.”, you reply languidly with proud eyes.

You saw his eyes glance at you, before looking back at the road.

Unknowingly, your smile didn’t falter at the memory of Satori. “In fact, the owner is my boyfriend! And I’m actually here to visit — or rather, surprise him today!”

The driver chuckled softly, “Figures. You were talking about the owner like he’s your lover, and,” He paused, his eyes gazed towards the photograph of a woman that you took notice of earlier. “I can say the same.” His voice became tender as he continued driving.

You have finally arrived at your boyfriend’s little happy place, much to your joy and excitement. You immediately paid the driver and thanked him for the ride (and for the conversation). As soon as you get out of the cab, the driver calls you out, rummages something from a compartment in his cab, and surprises you with a lush red rose, thankfully free of its prickly thorns.

"You somehow remind me of me and my wife when we were younger, and it's Valentines' Season and better yet, you're in the City of Love! So please, take this as a Valentines' souvenir, mademoiselle".

"Oh you didn't have to, monsieur!"

“Good luck with that boyfriend of yours, mademoiselle! Yer both lucky to have each other.”, he says, somehow inspired by how you defended Satori as he mutters an ‘ah, young love’ to himself afterwards as he waves before driving to his next destination. Despite the jet lag creeping in your system, you grasp the remaining energy you have to at least surprise your boyfriend with your presence in the spirit of Valentines' Day in the City of Love.

I can't believe I'm in Paris, and I'm seeing Satori's shop for the first time!, you thought as you giddily reached for the eccentric gold-gilded handle of the door, slowly opening the door to the shop. The instant scent of the cocoa hit right through your senses as your eyes ran across the various chocolates on display. Walking further, you were graced with the view of your beloved with his back on you, occupied with washing his tools to finish the day as he sways his hips to the rhythm of the song he’s humming so softly.

He stops humming as soon as he hears the chime of the door bell, "Je suis désolée, on est fermé. (I’m sorry, we’re closed)", you hear Satori with bits of his Japanese accent as he continued humming afterwards, clueless of who had entered his shop.

"Well, I was thinking of grabbing a Valentines' special with my boyfriend.", you replied teasingly, emphasizing the word boyfriend, which left the budding chocolatier a bit frozen in shock as he turned to your direction with wide eyes before shifting to a smirk as he leans on the countertop, narrowing his eyes towards you as an “Oh, what do we have here?” leaves his mouth.

“My Sugar!”, he nearly screamed, seeing you as he dropped everything he’s doing and rushed to hug you tightly, not caring about his wet hands.

You lovingly welcome his arms as you hug him back tightly, soaking in his presence after being separated for so long.

“I missed you so much, Satori!”, you pout as you felt him tightening his embrace, as you savored his warmth after a long flight, his breath tickling the nape of your neck. You gasp a little bit as he gently caresses your hair, maximizing his hug with you to finally see, touch, and feel you in person.

You felt Satori loosen his arms, as you immediately replaced with the warmth of the Parisian cold, much to your disappointment. Without you knowing, Satori sees even the slightest of your body trembling from the current weather and rushes back in the kitchen to grab his Shiratorizawa jacket, much to your surprise. He then returns to you, gracefully sliding the jacket over your shoulders.

You pout at him with a prominent blush on your plump cheeks, “Thank you, Satori”, to which he replies with another hug much tighter compared to the one a few minutes ago.

“I love, love, LOVE you so much, my chocolate ice cream!”, he exclaimes as you were suddenly smothered with a couple of pecks — light kisses on your head. You snuggled closer to his chest, eagerly smelling his sweet scent of chocolate that suddenly reminded you of your handmade chocolate that you’ve left unattended for hours. You quickly scramble away from the contact, much to your endearing boyfriend’s curiosity, to see if the chocolate has withstood not only the long flight, but also Satori’s warm, tight hugs. Luckily, the red cardboard box was sturdy enough and only had a couple dents — making you sigh in relief. As soon as you pull out the box, you see your boyfriend narrowing his eyes to the direction of the box with peaked curiosity.

“Ah, what do we have here?” Satori teases, pulling off a smirk, eyes still on the box as he receives it. He gave it a little shake, that made you giggle as he playfully tried to guess what was inside. Although you could feel your cheeks burning in embarrassment with each second passing. You look away in embarrassment as you watch him. He looks at you with piqued interest, wondering what has gotten you a bit tad embarrassed, if the pink in your cheeks were even a telltale sign.

You anxiously mumbled, “W-Well, I mean, my boyfriend probably makes the best chocolate in the world, so it k-kinda sucks that the only Valentines’ gift I can give you is a box of chocolates that I have made—”, you got cut off as you see and hear your boyfriend already popping one of the chocolates in his mouth, much to your chagrin. To your surprise, he kept popping more and more of the chocolates, savoring each delight.

“Waif, lemme geth sum hot milk.” he says, with his mouth full of your handmade chocolates as he scrambles back to the kitchen, heating up some milk. As you wait for him, you notice a gramophone on the countertop with a vinyl record already in place, with Edith Piaf written on on the center portion in black marker, which you found cute as you imagined Satori listening to Edith Piaf while doing his daily chocolate-making routine. You try to play the music and much to your delight, your head gently swayed to the song, and eventually your body. Immediately after the song has started, your body has already succumbed to the rhythm of the music that you didn’t notice Satori returning with two mugs of hot milk. He grins, enjoying the view of you dancing to French music as he places the mugs down on the counter. He slowly sways as he walks up to you, his hands snaking around your waist from your back as your bodies swing leisurely to the rhythm, much to your surprise yet you quickly relax as you lean back on him, holding his hands around your waist.

Never in your wildest dreams have you imagined that the Satori Tendou, your boyfriend, the oddball, would be dancing with you like this, alone in his chocolate shop under the moonlight on Valentines’ Day in the City of Love. It was too much for your heart to handle, and probably for his heart, too.

You dance for a couple more minutes until the song slowly fades. He then relishes the way he holds you, albeit the music has already finished. You both savor each other’s presence a few more, before Satori then gets the mugs of hot milk, not wanting to waste the good heat on a cold Parisian night. You gladly accept the milk with one hand, as you grasp his jacket with the other, not wanting to feel even the slightest cold breeze. Your boyfriend then leads you to a seat on the counter, sitting next to you as he prepares his mug and your box of chocolates, now with only a few pieces.

“I never thought you would actually go here in Paris”, he starts, as he pops another one of your chocolate in his mouth, followed by gulping down his warm milk.

“I never thought I would actually go here, but I’m grateful that I did, because this is the best Valentines’ Day I’ve ever had!”, you beam as you hold your mug with both hands, relishing the warmth as you drink down your milk.

Tendou then takes note of your chocolates, “You know, I was thinking of adding your chocolates to the menu, and credit you also. Probably name it Le Chocolat Y/N Au Lait Special or something!” You smiled and held a hand on your chest, feeling how warm it suddenly felt.

“Satori, I’d love to.”, you replied, to which his smile grew bright that could burst your heart to how cute he is.

Your beloved continues to chew and drink, looking around when he notices the fresh red rose from earlier sitting atop of your luggage. You follow his line of sight, immediately seeing the lone rose. You finish drinking your milk before you tell him enthusiastically, “Ah! That was given by the taxi driver that drove me earlier. Said that we somehow reminded him of him and his wife on Valentine's Day in the City of Love in this same shop, so he gave me one.”, imitating the way your driver said City of Love. Much to your shock, Satori sardonically laughs, saying it was a tad bit too French, at least for his taste.

While finishing the last remnants of your warm milk, he then goes to the nearby gramophone and plays another Edith Piaf classic. You glance at him with curiosity as he looks at you smugly, stretching out his hand as he invites you to another  dance.

“So, where were we?”

back to valentines masterlist

[bts-hyperfixation]

Christmas vacation. 18+

Kim Namjoon x reader

Warnings: sir!namjoon/ voyeurism/ unprotected/ masturbation (f)/ oral(b)

Words: 4021

Every year your family spends Christmas with the Kim family. Your parents have been friends since long before you were born.

You used to really enjoy these dinners: your mother’s Christmas cookies, the Korean soup the Kim family brought with them, and of course the small pile of brand-new toys to play with. It was especially fun to have Namjoon around, he had been your first crush, and this was the only time you could get his attention all to yourself; none of his friends in the way making him ignore you as they laugh.

You’d been really good friends when you were young; but at some point it became uncool to be friends with girls. So bowing to peer pressure he started being mean when others were around, eventually leading to being mean when it was only the two of you. At that point you decided it wasn’t worth the effort and moved on to bigger and better things, ignoring him or being snarky and mean back.

Your friends never understood why you guys were so mean to each other, he had a reputation around school as being one of the nicest people to work with (and be around in general). However you had never managed to fix the ever-growing rift between you. You hated the very sight of him, even when he left to become an idol. If anything it made it so much worse when his face was everywhere and anyone new you met idolized the band.

Which brought you to this Christmas, the first one he would be attending in two years. You had whined at your mom about not wanting to stay this year, claiming you were old enough to not spend the holidays with them. You should be able to go to a friends and actually enjoy yourself. Your mom was having none of. She shut down your new plans as soon as they left your mouth; you immediately started pouting like a child.

“Look Y/N, it won’t do you any good to spend the next day and a half looking like an angry toddler, all it’s going to do is give you wrinkles” your mom chided. You huffed and straightened out your features, she was right after all.

On Christmas day the Kim’s arrived without Namjoon in toe. You couldn’t help but feel relieved. Probably too busy with last minute dance class or something equally dumb. It was great thinking you might get to avoid him for another year.

You went about the day as normal: talking with the Kims, watching a Christmas movie, and opening the presents under the tree before dinner. Unfortunately, just as you sat down to eat he strolled through the door, oozing confidence and arrogance.

“Sorry I’m late, got caught up saying goodbye to the boys” he shrugged bending to kiss his mother and taking the only seat left at the table… next to you. His leg brushed against yours under the table sending shivers up your spine as you physically recoiled. Your parents stare at you both pointedly until you make the effort to speak to one another.

“Y/N, how are you? I see you’ve not been up to anything special of late” he jeered sounding almost bored.

“I’m sorry we can’t all be global superstars at age 26 Joon” he inhaled sharply in amusement that that was the best you could throw at him.

The two of you ate in silence while your families caught up with each other. As you had gotten older, your two families found themselves spending less and less time together with increasingly busy schedules. That’s when they came up with their latest brilliant idea.

“By the way guys we have a surprise present for the both of you” said Mrs. Kim, a smile on her face as she handed you both a sae bae don. With your family eyeing you expectantly you open the red envelopes to reveal plane tickets to the Caribbean for the following week.

“Oh my gosh this is amazing; I have always wanted to go to the Caribbean!” you squealed. In your excitement you knocked over the gravy on the table, accidently covering yourself, and Namjoon, in the hot liquid.

“Fuck Y/N, you’re such a klutz!” he yelped as he jumped from his seat. After being chastised for his language he stormed off to the bathroom to clean himself off, pulling his top over his head and showcasing his muscular back as he went. Your heart fluttered with what you assumed was rage as you huffed and headed into the laundry room. You were standing there in just your bra soaking your shirt before it ruined when he walked in behind you.

“God don’t you knock?” you squeaked as you pulled one of your dad’s shirts in front of you to cover yourself from his view, not missing the way his eyes raked down your body.

“Hello? I’m talking to you Joon?” you wave a hand in front of his face to get him to stop looking at you.

“Typically, walking into a public room of a house, I don’t knock no. Your mom told me to grab one of your dad’s shirts to borrow” you recovered from your original embarrassment noticing he was also stood there shirtless. Your eyes following a similar pattern to the one his had just taken down your curves. He took a step towards you, invading your personal space and towering over you. You stood there for a moment unsure of what he was planning. He broke eye contact first taking your dad’s shirt out of your hands before pulling it over his head. He snorted at the bewildered look on your face and left the room, leaving you there breathing much heavier than you were before and once again half naked. You pulled on a shirt from the clean laundry and headed back to join your family for the board game part of your Christmas festivities. Namjoon’s eyes caught yours every so often, he was very distinctly handsome, and the thought of him shirtless and so close to you wouldn’t leave your mind. If only he had a more tolerable personality.

…..

Two weeks passed and you found yourself standing with Namjoon at the entrance to a hotel room. Your parents had insisted you were way too old to share with them, which made sense, they deserved their privacy too. Unfortunately, that left you with a less than desirable roommate.

“You guys won’t even be in the hotel room that often, you’ll barely see each other” your dad had reasoned when the two of you started to put up a fight “plus we are not paying for the extra room”

You headed inside putting your suitcase on the bed closest to the window.

“What if I wanted that bed?” Namjoon grumbled.

“Should have gotten to it faster” you shrugged unzipping it to unpack.

After your stuff had been put away you changed out of your airplane clothes into a bikini and sheer wrap. At the sound of you exiting the bathroom Namjoon looked up from the book he was sat reading on his bed. His eyes trailed down your form through your wrap, reminiscent of his roaming gaze on Christmas. You went to make snide comment but instead he quickly closed the book, grabbed a pair of trunks, and headed for the bathroom. Not waiting for him to finish you called out that you were heading for the pool and left the room.

Everyone else was already downstairs when you reached the side of the pool. You set down your towel and chose the best sun lounger with your group. You get settled in and close your eyes ready for a nap in the warm sun after the long flight. Not long into your attempt at a sleep a shadow covered your body making you scowl, but not open your eyes.

“You can’t have the best bed and the best sun lounger, that’s not fair” Namjoon points out bitterly.

“Like I said before, you should’ve been faster” you smirk a little too proud of yourself.

“Is that right?” you felt the shadow over you move and settled back in, assuming you’d won the little banter and he would now go sulk elsewhere. Unfortunately for you, he had actually just moved to get a better grip. He pulled you over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift and carried you towards the deep end of the pool. You opened your eyes wide in shock and started to thrash around panicking.

“Joon you put me down right this instant.” You screamed. His only response was to slap you firmly on the bum and growl.

“You’re done being such a tease to me” the low tone in his voice made you feel tight at your core, but you didn’t have time to fully digest what he said because you were swiftly dropped into the water waiting below. As you came up for air planning to chastise him, he cannonballed next to you covering you in a tidal wave. He laughed at the drowned rat look you were now sporting. Embarrassed and annoyed you went with the only fitting punishment and pushed a large amount of water in the idols direction, resulting in a full splash war. Trying to gain the traction you needed to push him fully underwater and drown him, you jumped on his back and wrapped your hands in his hair.

“Hey that’s not fair” he whined trying to shake you free. You laughed at his failed attempts clinging on for dear life as he flipped backwards, sending you both under the water. The pair of you were laughing when you came up for air. It’s nice to laugh with him again, your mind started to wander as you realized the position you’d put yourself in.

Now clung to his front, your legs wrapped around his waist putting you practically nose to nose. You released and recoiled immediately, clambering out of the pool, and making excuses to your family before heading back inside. For someone you hate so much, he definitely had an immensely powerful effect on you lately.

You reached your room quickly, and content that Namjoon probably wouldn’t be back for a while you grabbed the small silver vibrator from the secret compartment within your suitcase and ran a bath for yourself to wash the day away. Too busy rubbing your swollen clit and thinking about how attractive Namjoon was to you all of a sudden. You hadn’t heard him come back into the room. After he called out for you and got no response, he opened the bathroom door in order to freshen up for an afternoon lunch by the ocean.

He is shocked to find you masturbating. Mouth ajar, headphones in, one leg over the side of the bath to give you better access to yourself. Mesmerized, he didn’t move out of the door frame. Instead he watched as you got closer and closer to your high, little mewling sounds leaving your lips, and then one word he never expected to hear.

“Namjoon” you moaned as your body convulsed slightly reaching your edge.

His pants twitched looking at you like that forcing him back into reality. Quickly he exited the room before you came around and saw him stood there. He sat on his bed readjusting himself to make it less obvious that he was sporting a semi, playing innocent when you walk out of the bathroom in a new outfit ready for lunch.

“Oh” you said sheepishly “I didn’t realize you were back in the room” the blush left on your skin from you’re orgasm intensified. He refused to make eye contact but shrugs

“I’ve only just walked in” he stood and pushed passed you into the bathroom and you released a sigh of relief as you took the bullet out of your cleavage and hid it back in its special compartment. Feeling slightly disgusted about masturbating to the thought of a guy you supposedly hate, you tried to get your mind to focus on other things, taking one of the books Namjoon brought with him off the bedside table.

You were upside-down, legs up on the wall, 3 chapters deep when Namjoon walked back into the room, his face flushed pink. You’d put it down to sunburn and the two of you lest, ready to go out and meet your families.

Its late by the time you guys got back to the room, having gone on an exploration of the area after dinner, then a bar. You were three or four drinks in, and more than ready to flop into bed, but something was bothering you.

“What’s your problem?” you asked accusatorily “You’ve been glaring at me since dinner, does my existence really bother you that much?” he sighed and turned away from you to head into the bathroom trying to ignore your question. But you blocked his way passed, putting a hand on his chest to try to prevent him from moving forward.

“No, answer me, you don’t get to ignore me for the next two weeks just because you want to be an asshole” he finally met your questioning gaze, something dancing behind his deep brown eyes. He grabbed your hand from its position on his torso and used it as leverage to push you up against the wall, you seized up; unsure of where to go from here, he was just staring at you, gaze flicking between your eyes and mouth.

“What do you think you’re doing?” your voice came out a lot quieter than you wanted it to. He inched ever closer, your body now flat against the cool wall behind you.

“I saw you today” he finally broke his silence, his voice low and raspy, sending your mind reeling.

“Saw me do what exactly?” you gulped having a feeling you already knew what.

“You were touching yourself… and thinking of me” his confident smirk doing nothing to stop the heat that pooled in your stomach.

“I don’t know what you mean” you grimaced, looking away; trying to hide the blush creeping up your face. He applied more pressure to keep you from squirming out of his hold. Using his free hand he pulled your face back to his. His mouth a whisper away as he breathed the next words.

“I can’t get the sight of you out of my head, spread wide, pushing yourself to the limit with that pathetic little toy. I could give you something much better to please yourself with”

You snorted at his attempt and came to your senses, pushing him away.

“You seem to have forgotten my intense dislike of you Joon.” You Walked back to your bed, far out of his reach. Watching his next move carefully, you could hear your heart beating loud in your chest. Fairly sure he could hear it too. He didn’t give up, moving closer to you, grabbing your wrists, and pulling you up to him again.

“Things can change Y/N, now do as you’re told” he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to yours tentatively, seeking the approval to continue. Frozen there, your brain tried to figure out what was happening between the two of you. Whether you wanted this because you like him or because of the alcohol. Relenting you melted into his form, deepening the kiss yourself. He needed no further approval and lifted you to wrap your legs around his waist pushing the two of you back against a wall.

“God I’ve been waiting for this since we were like 16” he admitted as he moved his lips down to your collarbone licking and sucking his way along.

“Yeah right asshole” you said breathless.

“Watch what you call me angel” he growled out the threat surprising you. “It’s sir or master now”

“Who are you kidding?” you sniggered, and he pus you down. You looked into his eyes to see there is no joking going on instead he pushed you hard onto his bed. He manhandled you onto all fours and he spanked you twice, not hard but firm enough to assert himself. The sudden aggression turned you on even more. You could feel yourself soaking through your underwear. You tried to turn to see him, but he applied pressure to your shoulders preventing you from pivoting your body. He leaned down so he could whisper in your ear.

“Is this okay?” he nibbled on your ear waiting for your response. You nodded slowly, not trusting your voice to not betray you with a moan. “I need you to tell me, tell me you’re okay baby girl”

“I’m okay” you let out a shaky breath of anticipation.

“I’m okay, who?” the smirk was evident in his voice knowing that he hadn’t even begun to touch you properly and you were already this turned on

“I’m okay, sir” You conceded but there was a venom in the word as you said it. He chuckled to himself.

“God you are such a little brat, guess I’ll have to fix that” he released his hold on your shoulders and you turned to lie flat onto your back gazing up and biting your bottom lip waiting to see how he decided to punish you. He’s stood above you carefully and slowly undoing the buckle on his belt.

“Sit up” came his only command you did as told mesmerized by the motion of his slender fingers working to free himself from his pants. His cock girthier than expected and already leaking precum proving he was just as turned on as you.

“Open” he said, but you turned your head like a petulant child, wanting to know how far you could push him and this new dynamic he’d tried to create between the two of you. He chuckled at your defiance and pulled your head back to face front. Hand holding under your chin his thumb ran across your mouth forcing your lips to part for him and having you suck on it.

“Don’t test me princess” there was danger in the tone of his voice as he moved his thumb out of your mouth to grab your hair and pull you gently by it to your knees. This time you opened your mouth expectantly tongue out and ready, waiting for him to allow you to continue. He placed the head of his cock on to your tongue and you licked down the shaft causing him to tremor slightly before taking him in fully.

He had been so busy with the band lately; it must have been a while since he had gotten the chance to release himself. He used your hair as leverage to force his cock further down your throat causing tears to form in the corners of your eyes and a small cough try to escape around the thick mass. He pulled his cock almost all the way out before ramming back into you, fucking your throat roughly. You felt him tense as if nearing a release and he pulled away; you moan at the sudden removal from and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. Looking at him with questioning eyes he offered a hand to help you up. You took it and he pulled you in close kissing you fervently, tasting himself on you.

“You’re too much baby girl” he breathed and then pushed you on to the bed, undoing and pulling down your pants, his fingers traced slowly down your legs. He tossed your clothes aside and separated your legs getting a good look at your core for the first time. He bit at your thigh the sudden pleasure making you moan a little too loud. “Careful kitten my parents are in the room next door” you’d put a hand to your mouth as the other clawed into the bed to try and help you steady yourself.

Namjoon blew softly on your clit making you shiver. His eyes met yours asking if he could taste you. You nodded and he glared back for a moment until you realised your mistake.

‘Yyyes sir” you stammered no longer needing a prompt to use the name. That’s all he needed for him to lick a line up your thigh before flicking his talented tongue against your clit. He dragged his tongue through your folds before plunging deep into your hole, tasting the arousal he’d made you feel. He grabbed your hips creating small halfmoon marks where his nails dug into your skin. He sucked hard on your clit making you throw your head back from the shockwave it sent up your core. He brought one hand down to help him please you, slowly pushing two fingers all the way into you. You constricted around the digits, grinding down onto them, making him hit your sweet spot. He pumped his fingers in and out scissoring occasionally to stretch you. You core is wound tighter and tighter as you got closer to your release.

“I think I’m I’m I’m gonna c..” you trailed off and he suddenly left you empty and alone. As a reflex you reached with grabby hands to get the feeling of him back and he chuckled.

“Baby girl, surely you didn’t think it would be that easy? Not after what a brat you were to me” you cried out regretting your defiance.

“Please sir, pleeease” you begged, fully submitting to the new dynamic you have.

“Get your toy, finish yourself off” he settled into the hotel chair cock in hand. You blushed, mortified by the thought of masturbating knowing he is watching. You stood to move to him, to sit on his lap, get him to touch you again, but he deterred your advances.

“You have your order princess” he grinned “come on do this and maybe I’ll reward you” you did as you were told and fetched the small toy from its hiding place. You’d lay on your bed and got ready to start.

“No Y/N, on my bed” you got up and moved, arranging yourself to face him. Unable to meet his eyes you began rubbing figure of eights with the small toy moaning as it touched the most sensitive parts You felt his eyes watching you intently spurring you on. His name tumbling from your lips proved too much for him, his hands were back on you

“Don’t stop” he commanded as his tongue joined the toy in pleasuring you. The feeling pushed you over the edge immediately, but he was relentless, overstimulating you. You tried pulling the toy away from your clit to give yourself some respite.

“I said don’t stop” he growled, and you brought the stim back as you rode out your high. He pulled back from you to line himself up, slowly pushing himself into you, stretching you around him, giving you time to adjust to the sudden change in pressure. He started to pump himself into your core, hitting your cervix every now and again. The bullet still at your clit and his rhythm brought you close once again. You clenched your walls around him providing both of you with extra friction.

“Not yet baby, don’t cum yet” he picked up the pace and you took the toy away from your clit grabbing onto his back to help keep you steady. He pumped into you a few more times before he started to studder reaching his end. He reached down between the two of you to rub your clit himself, bringing you back to the edge, you came quickly and as you did, he let himself release deep within you. He collapsed next to you on the bed pulling you close leaving a trail of kisses along your back. You both lay there quietly for a little while.

“That’s not where I thought this holiday was going to take us” you exhaled still a little breathless.

“That’s not where I thought this holiday would take us, sir” he teased.

“Yeah that’s not happening again” you tried to shoot back both of you knowing full well that you were lying.

Masterlist

[brutal-nemesis]

Ice Day 2021: Cool-stys

Hoo boy my fingers are cold. Happy Ice Day! I hope y’all are staying chilly, and here’s to more pain! And as for this one...it’s a lot of pain (⊙ˍ⊙)

Oh also because I don’t have a place for this information but I feel like you should know before you read so when it comes up you get what I mean: I imagine a Quibhassian accent sounds quite similar to an Icelandic one.

Castys Masterlist

Ingredients: self-amputation, suicide for convenience (immortal), self-harm to escape danger, stabbing, body horror, implied suffocation

Why was Castys somehow always in the wrong place at the wrong time? Seriously, he had the worst luck. Unless you counted accidentally witnessing a murder as lucky. Well, maybe it was lucky for the person getting murdered because then they could get justice or whatever. Except Castys didn’t really care about justice and never reported that sort of thing to the authorities. So, in conclusion, Castys witnessing your murder was unlucky for you and for him. Unlucky for you because he wasn’t going to tattle on the murderer, and unlucky for him because he was currently being chased through a forest by some murderer lady.

He was never a fan of running, and certainly not running through the snow while all bundled up because it was cold but running makes you hot so there’s no temperature happiness there. He was debating just giving up and trying to reason with the lady when he tripped over some hidden mystery object and landed face first in the snow, making that decision for him. A boot kicked his shoulder and turned him over before planting itself firmly on his chest. The woman attached to it was glaring down at him, holding a large icy spear-type-thing to his neck, which would be threatening if he could actually die. Well, maybe he could talk his way out before she decided to hurt him. Because he’d rather she didn’t.

“I would just like to inform you: I really don’t care about what I saw back there. I kill people all the time; it happens. So, if you’ll just let me go on my merry way, I promise not to tell anyone about the whole, uh, murder thing. We good?” He flashed her his most convincing smile, but all she did was narrow her eyes.

“I don’t know if I can trust the word of a man like you.” She had a strong Quibhassian accent, which wasn’t surprising as they were in fact in the frozen wastes of Quibhass. 

“A man like-wha-we just met?! You don’t even know me! You’d be totally justified in your whatever criticisms after, like, talking to me for more than five minutes, but it hasn’t been that long.”

“You give the impression of a wiry little mustela, saying anything to save your own skin.” She jabbed the sharp end of her giant icicle into his neck. Well, into his scarf. Still threat-y, though.

“I-I don’t even know what that is. Look,” he finally held up his hands, which he probably should have done initially, but he found it incredibly hard not to wave them around when he talked, “is there any way I can convince you not to stab me in the throat? Because if so I’d love to hear it.” Not that he was afraid she’d kill him, being that he couldn’t die, but if she did that, she’d find out that he was immortal, which...well, people didn’t typically react well to that information. Something about him being immortal made people really want to tie him up and hurt him, which was not a pastime he enjoyed. The woman seemed to think for a moment before setting her jaw and raising her spear. 

“No. Goodbye, little mustela.” Castys opened his mouth to protest, he didn’t want to get blood all over his clothes, but the sudden agony and the usual blackness told him it was too late.

When he came back to life, he was displeased to find that she had not just left his corpse lying in the snow. No, she had to be dragging him to wherever by the ankle. Great, he’d have to play dead and pray she didn’t notice that he was very much not dead. He supposed he could just wiggle free and rely on the element of surprise to give him a head start, but it hadn’t exactly gone well the last time she chased him. Better to just wait and hope that she didn’t set him on fire. No, she wouldn’t, because ice wizards don’t set people on fire. They set them on...cold. Holy shit where was she dragging him this was taking forever and he was starting to have incredibly stupid thoughts.

By the time she’d stopped dragging him, Castys’s thoughts had wandered into dangerous territory. Not in a “thinking about Bad things” way, but in a “thinking about funny things” way. Specifically that one time Eris got so excited about fried bread that she hit her head on the ceiling. He tried to keep quiet, he really tried. But before he knew it he was laughing uncontrollably, betrayed by the ridiculously low ceilings at that one tavern all those years ago. Why the hell did that have to be so funny? Hopefully she couldn’t hear him, didn’t see his allegedly dead body shaking with restrained chuckles. 

The very cold spear now stabbed into his stomach told him otherwise. 

His eyes snapped open, and once again, she was standing over him. She ripped the bloodied scarf from his neck and examined his neck that now had no hole in it. “Killing me again will accomplish nothing,” Castys said tiredly. “So if you would please-” he had to pause to cough up blood, “accept the fact that I cannot in fact be silenced and permit to run off into the woods, I would appreciate it.” The woman responded by shoving his scarf into his mouth.

“It seems you can be silenced, tricky little mustela.” Castys reached up to pull the bloodied scarf out of his mouth, but a muttered spell from the woman caused shackles of ice to appear on his wrists. She grabbed the chain now connecting his wrists and pulled it up, preventing him from removing the gag. “Any vermin that cannot be killed must be kept. It is the only way.” She snapped the shaft of the spear, leaving the frozen head embedded in his stomach, and began to drag him by the chain between his wrists into the nearby cabin. Castys was marginally grateful that he was at least being brought inside, but that gratefulness disappeared when she flung him down a flight of stairs. 

He was too dazed to resist as the woman started slicing through his coat, reducing almost all of his layers to shreds, which was incredibly rude of her. He’d really liked that coat, and now he had nothing to protect him from her frigid basement. “The cold will keep you trapped in here. Do some of my work for me,” the woman muttered, but Castys hardly heard her over the pounding in his head. And by the time said pounding went away, all he could hear was the door slamming shut and the click of a lock.

Laying on the cold stone floor, Castys yanked his scarf out his mouth and sighed. This was, without a doubt, the worst case scenario. Well, at least his mouth being stuffed full of bloody wool had prevented him from biting his tongue on the way down the stairs, so there was that. Worst case scenario minus tongue pain, but plus everything else pain. But hey, what are magic death rocks for? With frozen fingers, he pulled the pouch around his neck out from under his shirt. He wormed a finger into the pouch, sinking into the sweet release of death at the rock’s touch.

Sadly, dying couldn’t fix all of his problems. He was incredibly cold, for one, and healing himself wasn’t going to fix his coat or get those shackles of his wrists. And he was so, so cold, almost like it was coming from inside him...oh god he was a complete idiot. One of his injuries had been from that icy spear. The broken off point had still been lodged in his abdomen when he died.

And now it was stuck inside him. Fan. Tas. Tic.

Well, unless he was willing to slice himself open and dig it out, which he really wasn’t, that was going to be there for a while. Hopefully it would melt. Stowing away that problem for Later Castys, he sat up and looked around the room, eyes straining to see in the dark. There were shelves along two of the walls, lined with jars containing liquid full of...things. He hoped it was preserved food and not, like, human fingers or something, but it was too dark to tell. Of course, he’d had a lightstone in his pocket before all this happened, but his captor had taken his things while he was dead. Which was honestly fair, he would have done the same. But since he hadn’t actually died, it was rather inconvenient. 

Against the back wall, he found what felt like a table, littered with various tools and-holy shit was that an axe? Further examination proved that yes, that lady had been stupid enough to lock him down here with an axe. He considered breaking down the door right away, but if there was going to be a fight up there, he’d prefer not to have his hands chained together. Trying to break a chain with an axe in the dark wasn’t exactly the safest thing he’d ever done, but it’s not like he could cause any damage to himself that dying wouldn’t fix. He pulled the pouch off of his neck and shook the stone out onto the table, ready for if things went south.

He put the chain of ice against the axe blade and twisted, pulling it taut. Faint crackling noises told him it was working and after a few more moments, the chain snapped under the pressure. He stretched, glad to have his arms free again. Well, they weren’t completely free as those stupid ice shackles were still encircling his wrists. Honestly, he would have preferred metal ones, even if that meant he wouldn’t have been able to break the chain, because, shockingly, these ice ones were incredibly cold. They’d pressed themselves into his bare skin after he’d been relieved of his coat, and their chill felt like it was encasing his arms in ice. He rubbed his hands on his arms, trying to warm them, but the shackles seemed to cover more of his arms than he remembered, almost as if-

The shackles were growing. A layer of ice was creeping out over his skin from where the edges of the shackles used to be. He watched, transfixed in horror for a moment. 

And then panic set in.

He frantically scratched at it to no avail, the ice was starting to cover his hands, he didn’t have any time, and when he remembered the axe, he knew what he had to do. Do I really have to? Trembling fingers wrapped around the axe’s handle as he laid his right arm on the table. I’ve felt this pain before but I’ve never had to do it to myself and I’m not sure if I can- He raised the axe, feeling the ice spread around his fingers, locking them in place. Okay okay I can do this I don’t have time to hesitate I need to stop the ice before it’s too late just do it come on do it do it DO IT-

He did it. The axe buried itself in his arm, right above the elbow. No, no it didn’t go all the way through, he’d need to do it again. Fighting to keep his screams locked behind his teeth, he wrenched the axe out from the notch it had made in his bone and swung it again. This time, it chopped most of the way through with a sickening crack. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he had to get through that last bit of flesh, had to make sure it was completely severed, and then he could die. The axe sliced through the bits of muscle and skin still attaching his arm, and he dove for his rock, pressing what was left of his arm into it.

There was no time to rest after he woke up, because holy balls he was going to have to do that again. Looking at his left arm, he was going to have to cut it off closer to the shoulder at the rate the ice was going. He tried to open his left hand to let go of the axe, but it had completely frozen over, his fingers stuck gripping the handle. Fuck, he didn’t have time for this, the ice was almost to his shoulder and then it would be too late, too late. He wedged the end of the handle under the edge of the table and pulled down with his right hand, hoping he could pry his left hand open. He felt a bolt of elation as he heard the ice start to crack, and pushed down even harder.

The ice, and the fingers within it, cracked and shattered. Castys stilled, his gaze fixed in horror at the jagged stumps where his fingers had been just moments ago. His mind was screaming at him to move, to amputate his other arm before the ice encased it completely, but the fact that his fucking fingers had just snapped off was still setting in. It was only a moment of stillness, a moment of disbelief, but it was a moment too long. 

The axe clattered to the floor. Fingers scratched desperately at the ice now encasing his shoulder, spreading across his chest, creeping up his neck. But it was useless, useless, the ice wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t go away, it was so cold, part of him just wanted to lie down and sleep, succumb to the inevitable frozen cocoon, but part of him was too terrified of the ice growing over his skin, sucking all the heat from his body it was up to his face now was he even going to be able to breathe it’s so cold GET OFF MY EYE GET OUT OF MY MOUTH STOP IT STOP IT PLEASE PLEA-

And then there was silence. There was stillness. And there was cold.

Castys Cult:  @as-a-matter-of-whump​ @blackrosesandwhump​​ @fanmanga1357-blog​​ @poppys-whumping​ @thehopelessopus​ @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi​ @hearse-song​ @muddy-swamp-bitch

[snarkwrites]

ssw | embry call; you don’t have to be gentle. | mature.

NOTES:

So... This is the final part to the little mini story with Embry and Merisa... For now. Mayhaps I’ll revisit them from time to time, who knows. If you’re still with me after that downer of a cliffhanger ending yesterday, I’m happy -surprised, but oh so happy, and I truly hope you enjoy this because I enjoyed writing this.

I had to fight myself tooth and nail NOT to turn this into an alpha/omega + imprinting thing, btw. But I managed not to.

PROMPTS:

Prompts used for these six sexy words one shots are either taken from [here] or [here] at my choosing. I don’t take requests for characters / prompts for these but... If you just want to send me requests, I do take headcanon requests, fluff and filth alphabet letters. [ request rules / fandoms here ] 

The prompts I used here are as follows: Claim me. Mark me. Own me + You don’t have to be gentle. 

FANDOM/CHARACTER:

Twilight, Embry Call x Imprint!OFC, Merisa.

OTHER PARTS:

For those of you who want to see them... This whole series kinda turned into my own self indulgent thing, tbh? Anyway:

[ he looks down. she looks up. ] | [ let me take care of you ] | [ everything about her turns me on ] | [ when he says your name ] | [ when whispered words leave you breathless ] 

WARNINGS:

{NSFW CONTENT. NO MINORS.} consensual but unprotected sex between two adults, oral sex - male giving, biting / marking, body fluids & that’s pretty much it.

Minors, this was not written for you. You shouldn’t be reading it. If you are and you stumble upon something upsetting or that you can’t handle after being clearly warned here... That’s on you, lovelies. Not me. Nobody made you keep reading.

TAGGING:

@kyleoreillysknee​ is the only person on my Twilight tag list. If you’d like to be added to it, ( I’m gonna be writing more for them most likely, I’ve been feeling it lately, idk mannn..) please let me know or add yourself to the doc linked below. If you’re not on my taglists, you won’t be tagged, fyi.

OTHER STUFF:

[ faq | feel free to send me stuff | sfw masterlist | nsfw masterlist no minors. | taglist doc ]

I haven’t seen Embry in a little over two weeks, since the night of the carnival. I still can’t get my head around what he showed me and what I now know but I do know one thing… Not seeing him has been really, really hard for me.

I’d almost given up on it, if I’m being totally honest. I had to fight the urge to go to him almost daily. I kept telling myself if he wanted to see me, he’d come to me. That I’d probably messed everything up with my reaction.

If I hadn’t before that, going overboard with the flirting.

My grandmother’s voice cut through my thoughts and I looked up from the television set. Pausing the episode of General Hospital I had recorded to see what she wanted or needed. Managing my best smile even though lately, that’s the last thing I’ve felt like doing lately.

“Don’t you get tired of laying around here, moping?” she asked as she stepped into the room. Shaking her head as she grabbed the remote and used it to turn off the little television. “Get out there. Go do something. I don’t care what it is, mermaid.”

I pouted at her, letting my mouth drop open as I pretended to be shocked and hurt by her suggestion. “Are you seriously telling me you don’t love me anymore?”

“You know that’s not true. That’s not what I said at all.” my grandmother sat down. I gave a soft laugh and spoke up. “I know, I was kidding. I just… I haven’t been in the mood lately.” I shrugged it off as if it were nothing.

“If you’re moping over that bum in Seattle, mermaid, he’s not worth a second more of your time and energy.”

“Oh. Trust me, I know. This has nothing to do with that. I’m just kind of… Resting.” my original thought pattern was maybe if I offered up the few injuries and aches I had left up for an excuse, she wouldn’t push for anything more than that.

Because it’s been a little over two weeks and I still can’t fully process what happened that night. Or how badly my lack of an actual reaction and how easily I gave in and let him bring me home might have made a mess of everything. I didn’t even try to push him into talking about everything. Explaining what it all meant. 

I didn’t know how I’d even begin to explain anything to my grandmother without sounding like I was losing my goddamn mind if I’m being perfectly honest.

“In order to rest, one needs to actually do something first. What’s really going on, hm?” my grandmother wouldn’t be my grandmother if she didn’t push on regardless. I sighed and shrugged. “ I’m just dealing with everything that happened.”

“Mhm?” she was trying to get me to keep talking but I went quiet. Sighing. Telling her it was stupid and most likely, I was just fully comprehending my mother’s death. Which wasn’t a lie. My memory was almost fully back now. I could remember everything. Including the fact that the years leading up to her death, she and I had a very strained relationship… Because like my grandmother and I tried to do so many times with her over the years whenever she’d get all wrapped up in the actual worst kind of man or circumstance, she was trying to steer me away from Greg and rather than listen to her, knowing she had more experience in life than I did, I chose to isolate myself. I chose to tell her time and again that I was an adult and that Greg wasn’t all the men she’d gotten entangled with during my childhood. So the last few months I could’ve been mending fences and reconnecting with her were spent in tension filled occasional check in texts or calls instead. 

Like mother, like daughter. That thought came bitterly and it hurt like hell to acknowledge. Because my mom went to her grave with the relationship between her and my grandmother totally unresolved. Because like she attempted with me about Greg, my grandmother tried and tried again with my mother and her choices. Only interfering one time. And that one time was because it was a question of my safety. And this cost my grandmother a relationship with my mother because nothing was the same after that summer.

I explained all of this to my grandmother and as I finished, she hugged me and sighed. “You can’t hold this in for the rest of your life, mermaid. But I know that is only a large part of whatever has you so down… and given that I haven’t seen a certain mechanic around at all in nearly three weeks, I’m going to assume that things didn’t go well on your date?”

“Oh, they went… Right up to the point where I proceeded to get impatient, want what I want and push the line…” - a half truth was better than nothing.. Because if I hadn’t laid it all on the line, he wouldn’t have felt so bad about keeping what he had to keep from me.

,, stop doing that. You can’t be blamed for everything. You were shocked. You’re still trying to figure out how to react to what you know… But if you wait too long..” the thought came and like usual, I tried to shove it down again.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that I went overboard. I told him how I felt. I poured it on entirely too thick and I probably scared him off.” - taking the blame was infinitely easier than explaining the full truth to my grandmother. How did I even begin to tell her what I knew? And on top of that, the fact remained that I wasn’t supposed to tell. And if you’re not his imprint, you’re not even meant to know to begin with.” that thought surfaced.

And it hit me. When he showed me the wolf side that night, he’d been telling me so much more than that.

And my reaction?

While a natural one, probably wasn’t the best one to go with. I should’ve at least made him fucking talk to me. Explain everything. I should’ve pushed for him to tell me everything instead of agreeing to come home that night.

“Fuck.” I buried my face in my hands.

Why couldn’t I have realized that tidbit say, almost three weeks ago? Before it was probably too late to try and fix everything?

“Language, mermaid.”

“Oh, trust me, grandma. This is definitely a situation worth the F bomb.” I muttered, shaking my head as I laughed at my own stupidity.

“Maybe it can be fixed?”

“Oh, I doubt that.”

“You say you’ve realized how short life is thanks to your mother dying and nearly losing your own. All I’m hearing is that you haven’t learned anything, mermaid. How will you know if you don’t try?”

I took a deep breath. Mulling over what she said because honestly, she wasn’t wrong…

And then, before I could stop myself, I was standing. Bolting down the hall and into my old bedroom. The first thing I did was take an actual shower. Then I threw on that sundress. And before I could change my mind or talk myself out of it, I bolted out the door, right past where my grandmother sat, watching her soaps. She called out after me, “I won’t wait up, mermaid.”

I didn’t stop running until I stood on his front porch. Banging on the door.

“Open the door you stubborn ass man. Open the door and listen to me.”

Not a sound.

Not even a hint that he might be home.

I sighed and stared at the door for a few seconds.

Sitting down on the wooden bench to the left of it. Laughing at myself because naturally, I’d finally stop dragging my feet and do something to fix this if I could and he wouldn’t be home.

“I am such a fucking idiot, I swear to God.” I sighed, resting my head on the top of my knees.

I sat like that for a few minutes. Then I heard a motorcycle approaching in the distance. And the fight or flight kicked in all over again. But I fought back against it. Rooted to where I sat.

Determined.

Watching his motorcycle get closer to his house. My heart about to beat right out of my chest. But underneath the excitement.. Calm. Like I was doing the right thing, even if it did turn out to be too late.

The motorcycle came to a stop in his driveway. He hadn’t noticed me yet. I knew the second he did because his entire body tensed. His eyes darted around in every direction before finally settling on me. Intent. A little stunned, from what I could tell.

“So..” I called out, going quiet shortly after because I just didn’t know what to say. I had no idea where to even start.

“What are you doing here?” Embry asked the question quietly. Not in an angry or annoyed way, but more or less in a tone of defeat. Like he’d given up on me coming around ever again. “You saw what I am…” he went quiet. Up the stairs in the blink of an eye.

Towering over me. Keeping his distance but I could tell he wanted to be closer. I knew I wanted him closer. Every part of me was literally crying out for it. I needed him.

Wolf form and all, Embry Call is the man I love.

“And I don’t care, actually.” I admitted after a long and heavy pause. “I mean, I care.. But the fact that you happen to transform under the light of the moon doesn’t bother me. It’s.. Gonna take some getting used to.”

He blinked in shock as he processed what I’d just said. As soon as it sank in, he stepped closer. Filling the space between us. His hips pinning my lower body between his body and the wall my back was pressed firmly against. He raised a hand, resting it palm down against the wall as he stared down at me. Quiet. 

“I know it’s probably too late and I should’ve.. I don’t know, I should’ve done literally anything but what I did the night you showed me the wolf but.. I’m losing my goddamn mind, okay? I.. I can’t think about anything else. I was really in love with you, okay? And I still am. And damn it, when you absolutely shut down and refused to let me…” my words were cut off by a thick digit pressing against my lips to silence me.

He swallowed hard, his eyes leaving mine and settling on my lips. “Wait.. you love me..” he muttered in a daze. Bringing his eyes back up to settle on mine. His body molding completely against mine as he leaned in closer. 

“What part of that did you miss? Because I’ll happily say it. Over and over. Until it gets through your stubborn rock skull. This whole you turning into a wolf thing is.. Look. It’s a lot, okay? But it’s not too much. Not when I need you and I love you... I know what I want. And I’m not leaving until we’ve at least talked.”

“What do you want, huh?” Embry asked. Staring down at me expectantly. Waiting on an answer.

“You. I want you. Wolf and all.” I answered quietly, my gaze dropping. Settling on worn floorboards beneath my dirty and bare feet. Embry followed my gaze down and snickered quietly to himself.

“Woman, where the fuck are your shoes?” he glanced up at me, shaking his head. Grumbling about the fact that I wasn’t wearing any shoes. And I knew him well enough to know that this was Embry, stalling. Because he didn’t know what to say or do.

“Look. I came down here on a mission. I didn’t have time to stop and grab shoes, damn it.”

“Baby, why..” Embry chuckled, the beginnings of a grin forming on his face as he guided my face up so that I had no choice but to look at him. “ I know you came down here on a mission but seriously? There’s broken glass in the road.”

“I’m pretty tough. I mean.. I did live through a pretty wicked car accident.” I bit my lip, staring up at his mouth helplessly. Swallowing hard and getting wet when one glance into his eyes clearly revealed that yes, he’d caught me doing so.

“Yeah, don’t remind me about that, okay? I don’t even wanna..think about that night again.” he went quiet. Ghosting his free hand up and down my side before letting it rest against my hip. Using his grip to pull me against him. I melted into him with zero thought or hesitation. And then, I happened to put my full weight down on my left foot and promptly swear to myself quietly. “Son of a bitch. Ouch.” I raised my foot and the light glistened off of a practically microscopic shard of glass lodged in the skin.

Wordlessly, Embry scooped me up. Carrying me into his house. Sitting me down on his sofa. My eyes darted around the place, smiling softly to myself at all the pictures and the way it felt almost equally as cozy and like home as my grandmother’s little house did.

And before I could stop myself, I was imagining a future with him. Something I hadn’t dared ever do before. Something that suddenly occurred to me, I wanted.

Embry walked back into the living room with peroxide, a wash rag and tweezers and I pouted, shaking my head. “This can wait.” I protested. Tried to pull my foot away, but Embry got a firm grip on it, resting it between his thighs. Holding it still as he looked down at it, inspecting it closely until he found the tiny glass shard. 

“Okay, look at me.” Embry guided my gaze up to meet his. Then he looked down. “Don’t stop looking at me, okay? And do not move your foot. Stop moving, Merisa or I’m never gonna get this out, baby.” Embry muttered in an even and firm tone. Stopping to look up at me with one of the most commanding looks I’d ever seen him give.

“It’s..” I hissed as the tweezers scraped over my skin, grimacing. Gritting my teeth because apparently, it was dug in there deep. “It’s fine. It can totally wait, c’mon.”

The way he’s called me baby twice now.

I don’t dare get my hopes up, do I?

The splinter of glass came free and I unclenched myself. It hadn’t hurt that bad at all.

“Was that so bad?” he asked. Staring at me.

I shook my head.

My eyes were lost in his all over again. And the tension was back. Heavy. Filled with things we needed to say.

“Embry.” I muttered after a long and heavy silence. Embry looked up at me, biting his lip. “Yeah?”

“When I told you that I’m yours and all you have to do is try, I meant that, okay? I don’t say things I don’t mean. And all of this.. I mean… Forget it. According to the legends, if you imprint, it won’t matter anyway…” I trailed off because I realized that I’d come all the way down here on a barely thought out whim. In the hope that maybe he’d been trying to tell me so much more than simply the fact that he turned into a wolf at will.

My anxiety was starting to kick in now and I had no idea what to do or say. I didn’t even begin to know where to start. There was so much I wanted to say. So much I needed to get out.

“It will if I imprinted on you.” Embry muttered after a few seconds. Staring down at my foot in his lap intently. Taking a few long and shaky breaths. Waiting.

Now it was my turn to be shocked.

Because that’s what I’d been hoping he was trying to tell me when I bolted all the way down here in a rush earlier. But I’d braced myself to hear everything but that.

“Wait..” I trailed off. My mouth opened and closed as I raised a hand, tousling my hair and pushing it out of my eyes.

,, You were right. He told you what he was that night. He showed you because you were his imprint.” my brain was practically taunting me.

“You sound like that’s a bad thing.” I was confused.

“It’s not. I just… I never thought it would happen. Kind of convinced myself that I’d rather know I love the person I was with without that side of me coming into play…” Embry trailed off.

“Oh.” I started to stand. Thinking that he meant something entirely different than what he was getting at. I was at the front door when he pressed against me from behind. His hand covered mine. Lowering it down from the doorknob.

“Don’t go. Just.. Let me get this out.” he muttered quietly against the shell of my ear as he turned me around to face him. Putting my back against the front door with a soft smack. 

“I have been driving myself crazy. I’ve been trying to tell myself that it was just the imprint. But it’s not just that. I love you. I need you, okay? I just.. I don’t want you to think that genetics are the only reason I’m with you. I wanted to take time and like.. Prove that.” Embry fidgeted a little, raising a hand to drag it through his hair. Resting that hand against my face. Dragging his thumb over my skin as he softly pressed his forehead against mine.

When his mouth met mine this time it was deep and slow. Clumsy. Needy. His hands were wandering all over me. Finally stopping to rest across my ass. Pulling me up his body. 

“I know it’s not just genetics, okay? I trust you.” I answered as we pulled apart to breathe. My arms wrapped around his neck, my fingers tangling up in his hair. Using my grip to pull his mouth back against mine all over again. “I love you too. And I want to see where this goes. We can figure this out as we go. I just.. I know what I want.” I gazed at him as the kiss broke a second time and we pulled apart, panting for our next breaths. Trying to pull ourselves together.

He grinned bright at my words and I smiled too. Snuggling myself against him.

“I do too.” he answered after a second or two of little pecks and soft kisses peppered on my face and Embry touching me anywhere he could get his hands. Stepping over to the sofa and sitting down. I wrapped my legs around his waist. He pulled me as close as he could get me. Making me barely catch a whimper as I rubbed right against the way his cock strained and pushed at the jeans he was wearing. When I did it a second time on my own free will, Embry groaned. Bucking himself up into me. Fingers digging into my ass. Guiding me over the bulge before either of us really stopped to think it over or calm ourselves down.

And honestly, I didn’t want to.

Every single time I rubbed against him, I could feel myself getting wetter and wetter. Whimpering and whining. Begging. I wound up pressed against the sofa, Embry’s body settling between my legs to keep them spread. He gave a quiet growl as he stared down at me and settled in, pressing into me completely. Pinning me beneath him. But barely pressing his full weight into me, almost as if he thought he’d break me or I was made of glass. 

“ You don’t have to be gentle.” I muttered as my lips danced over his neck, leaving little marks behind. He sucked in a sharp breath, gazing at me as if wanting to be absolutely sure I was okay. That I wanted to go farther.

As if I intended to stop him.

“I don’t wanna hurt you.” Embry muttered, his words coming out in labored pants. 

“You won’t.” I mumbled, letting out a gasp as rough,warm hands slipped up the bottom of my little yellow dress. His palm settling against my aching wet sex. Massaging me through soaked panties. My fingers dug into the couch and his shoulder as I rocked myself up into him. 

His mouth crashed against mine hungrily and his hand started to move faster. Pressing against my dripping core. The little friction it gave was just enough to make me want more. Just as I started to rock against his hand a little faster, breath catching in my throat, he started to slow down. “Easy, baby. Not yet.” he coaxed, making me pout up at him. His thumb rolled over the outline of my lips and I closed them around it, sucking. Making him growl out “Fuck.” as he bucked himself right against me. His nose pressed against my neck as he breathed in deep. My fingers dug into the cushion on the sofa just a little more. His hand settled against my cunt again, cupping. Rubbing slow and careful. So slow that the ache settled between my thighs doubled. And the more I tried to rock myself faster against his moving hand, the more he pressed his hips down into mine to attempt to keep me still. When he stopped again just as I started to get just a little closer to orgasm, I whined. Begging.

His mouth buried in mine, swallowing up the sounds. He moved his hand, growling when it came away wet. “You smell so fucking sweet. I wonder...” he mumbled lazily against my lips as the kiss came to a gradual stop, “If you taste as sweet.” gazing down at me with a hungry look in lust shot dark brown eyes as he licked his lips. I could feel my cheeks heating up. My thighs were so slick they slipped off one another if they brushed together. Embry worked my dress up over my hips. Pulling me up to finish pulling it off. Leaving me in only the pair of red panties I was wearing. He pulled away to stare. A hungry look in his eyes as they moved over my body.

 My fingers curled in the hem of a thin gray tank top he was wearing and I started to work it up, letting it hit the floor of the living room once I’d pulled it over his head. He slipped off the couch, standing in front of me. His hand lowered to the waistband of his jeans after he’d kicked off heavy soled boots, letting them settle on wooden floors with a soft thump. He unfastened and unzipped his jeans, letting them hit the floor around his ankles at which point he kicked them free. 

My eyes widened as I could see the size of the bulge strained against a pair of dark gray boxer briefs. ,, is he even going to fit?” the thought came, accompanied by a fresh rush of slick as it coated my panties and slicked up the insides of my thighs even more. He was lowering himself back down again, hovering over me. His forehead resting against mine as he muttered quietly, “Don’t let me hurt you.”

“Baby..” I started to argue that I knew he wouldn’t, but he shook his head and repeated himself firmly. I nodded, agreeing to let him know. He settled himself on top of me gingerly, again being too careful. Not wanting to press into me too much. But I wanted friction. I wanted to feel his body engulfing mine. Hard muscles against my soft skin. I grabbed a hold of his hips, pulling him down on top of me even more. He rutted himself against me with a low hungry growl that hung in the air between us, only drowned out by the sounds of his mouth as it worked over my body. Starting at my throat. Working down. His hands roamed up my sides, pushing my breasts together and his mouth latched on. Licking,kissing and sucking. Making me whimper his name and rock myself up into him, the ache building. Throbbing. 

By the time his mouth was down to my navel, he was reaching between us, the silent rip of fabric as my favorite red panties came away, tossed to the floor of his living room; torn. I raised my hand, tugging impatiently at the waistband of his boxers and rather than deny me, he obliged, raising to his knees. Slipping off the couch to let his boxers settle on the floor. His cock sprang free, standing at attention. I swallowed hard as my eyes settled on his thick,veiny member, a quiet gasp filling the air. 

He positioned himself over me again. Gingerly. Desperate to feel skin against skin completely, I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him down on top of my completely. A moan escaped my throat as soon as I felt his cock teasing at my dripping entrance. His hands were all over me, ghosting my sides. Finally settling on my hips. Rocking me over his thick,veiny length as he stared down at me, dazed.

Leaning in to whisper against the shell of my ear, “Love the way your body fits against mine, baby.” as I nodded, let my lips brush the side of his neck, latching onto skin as I tried to leave a mark, “Me too.” I muttered, gazing up at him with a soft smile. Rough hands caressed my cheek, skimming down the side of my body and Embry’s mouth danced down my neck. Teeth scraping against soft skin before locking around it. Tugging until I felt a mark forming. I moaned out, rocking myself up into him. One of my hands drifting up to tangle in his hair and tug at it, trying to pull his mouth against mine one more time, despite knowing one kiss is obviously not ever going to be enough when it comes to him.

He started to let his mouth roam over my bare body, sending goosebumps raising all over me as I felt his warm,wet tongue drag slowly over my skin. Trailing a lazy circle around my navel as he moved himself down my body. Settling between my legs, putting a leg over each shoulder as he met my gaze again. Licking his lips hungrily. Bucking against the couch in anticipation and practically growling when he glanced down and saw my thighs glistening with slick. His tongue rolled up my inner thigh, sloppy. Warm and wet and determined to lick me clean. My hand tangled in the hair on top of his head and my other hand gripped the couch as the warmth of his breath tickled bare skin. His nose bumped against my pelvic mound and I bit my lip, my back arching as his tongue circled my clit, working the throbbing bundle of nerves. The way he had my legs over his shoulder angled my hips. When his tongue buried deep in my pussy, I moaned out. Begging for more.

“Baby, ah, oh fuck.. Oh. Mmm. Right there.” I moaned out, gripping his hair and the couch tighter. Digging my heels into his back, making him bury his tongue inside my dripping sex deeper. “That feels so good, fuck.” I moaned out, rocking my hips up for him.

“Good girl. Move your hips. Fuck. You’re dripping.” Embry growled, leaving a more harsh bite against the inside of my thigh, right next to my crotch. A bite so deep I could feel the stinging bruise even after he’d backed away, glancing up at me tenderly just to make sure I was okay only to find me moaning, my head falling back as I licked my lips.

My stomach coiled and my body tensed as I started to race right into an orgasm that I knew would leave me shaking. Embry started to slow down and my eyes popped open, locking on him and the way he was positioned between my thighs below. Pouting. Begging him not to slow down. Begging him to let me let go. He rose up a little, making his way back up my body after lowering my legs. Wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. Grabbing hold of my jaw as his mouth crashed against mine and he rocked himself against me, letting his cock drag right between my throbbing folds every single time he moved.

I gripped his jaw, making him lock eyes with me. His pupils were shot and the lust filled look in his eyes when they met mine had me whimpering his name. “C’mon… Please?” I begged breathlessly, another well timed rock against me with his cock grazing between my folds and the tip sinking in drew a breathy moan out of me that shattered the silence of the room. “Embry, please. Now.”

“Now, huh?” Embry responded in a husky whisper, his lips latching onto my neck. Sucking another mark into my skin. “Don’t let me hurt you. Because I know I’m going to get carried away, baby, I.. you just  feel so damn good.” Embry gasped out as he started to bury himself inside me deep. Going still once I was impaled on his thick,veiny member. Pressing little soft kisses against my warm skin as he let me adjust to the way he stretched and overfilled me. After a few seconds, the feeling of being stretched almost too much subsided and I started to slowly rock my hips into him. Whimpering and moaning as he started to drive into me slow and deep. Nearly pulling out completely with each thrust just to bury himself deep inside all over again. When my stomach coiled all over again, I rocked my hips faster. Trying to chase the orgasm he’d been denying me. Embry’s hands gripped my hips, slowing them almost to a grinding halt and I whimpered, begging.

“Not yet, baby.” he muttered. Raising to his knees. Bringing my legs up to my chest. Both hands on my hips as he pumped me up and down on his cock until I was moaning his name over and over, clinging to him when he came to a complete stop. Frustrated as hell because I’d been so close and Embry stopped again. A tear of frustration trickled down my cheek and Embry caught it with his finger. Licking his lips as he muttered quietly, “It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you, okay? Let go for me. C’mon, baby..” he started to pump himself in and out harder, faster.. The smack of skin against skin shattering the quiet. “C’mon. Let go, baby.” as he pushed me back against the couch, pinning me all over again. His hips smacking against mine erratically, the sound echoing off the walls. “That’s it.” he growled as I clenched around him, dangerously close to my orgasm shattering through, “Fuck. you’re so tight. Wet...Fuck, baby.” 

My orgasm ripped through me, leaving me a dripping,whimpering mess, clinging to him. Trying to catch my breath. My hips meeting his as best as I could as I let him fuck me through the high of it. My nails caught in his skin and raked down his back, pulling a moan out of him as he buried his mouth against mine, muttering quietly, “You feel so so good. So good, baby. Don’t..” he groaned as his thrusts became sloppier. Slower in a desperate attempt to keep himself from getting off, “Ah, oh god. Mmm.” his hands gripped my hips tight, slamming me up and down on his cock as he bottomed out, striking against my throbbing,sensitive spot, pulling a loud whimper out of me in the process. “Baby.” he panted, locking eyes with me, “I’m so close. So close, fuck.”

“Don’t stop. Embry, please.” my back arched as his thrusts got even sloppier. Faster. So hard they were almost bruising each time his hips slammed against mine mid-thrust. “You sure?” he muttered against the shell of my ear, glancing down at me.

“Embry, fuck. Ah, fuck. Baby, don’t stop. Feels so good baby. Mmm, yeah.” I moaned out, my back arching away from the bed, my chest dragging over his as I clung to him. Trying to rock my hips urgently to keep him moving. Blinded by lust. My nails digging into his shoulder and dragging down his back lightly. Pulling a growl out of him that was swallowed by the hungry crash of our mouths against each others as his hips sputtered and I felt his cock throbbing. Emptying. Filling me full. 

After it was over, he planted soft kisses all over my face and neck and I pulled him down on top of me. He flipped us so that he was the one laying below, his arms locking around my body to hold me in place on top of him as I crashed my mouth against his all over again.

His eyes settled on the bites and nips he left behind and he grimaced, gingerly dragging his finger over the deepest one on the side of my neck. “I told you not to let me hurt you.”

“If it hurt, Embry, I would’ve told you. I’m not made of glass, baby.”

He eyed me, almost as if he were afraid I was just saying it. I gave a soft giggle and after wiggling around a little to get comfortable, I rubbed my nose against his, making him laugh. Stare up at me in awe only to burst into laughter when I settled on the couch next to him, purring in content, “I am.. Definitely going to get used to this. Mhm, yes I am.” through a sleepy yawn.

“Me too, babe.” Embry pulled me closer, letting my head rest against his chest. An arm wrapped around me tight after pressing his lips against my forehead...

[remember-to-be-gentle]

This piece is completely self-indulgent and I miss my sexy ghost uncle :(

Subject: The Demon Road Trilogy, Milo Sebastian aka the Ghost of the Highway

Title: Between a Charger and a Hard Place (Fem Reader)

Trigger Warning: Non con, crying, fingering, demon car, Reader is fucked inside a demonic car

You started crying when your battery died. You were alone on an unfamiliar road with only your cell phone able to produce light. The moon was new and the stars were useless. Who knew how far you were from home, or civilization for that matter. How close a hungry mountain lion lurked, or where an angry bear would strike. There was no cell signal out here either, no way to call AAA or even your family to let them know you were safe. 

No one.

And then, headlights swung around the corner, the engine of a car covered in shadows growling so loud it raddled you from the inside out. Your body tensed, fight or flight instincts struggling for control over you. This was help, you thought, there was no reason to get anxious. And yet you were.

The car's speed slowed, the growling engine settling into a quiet snarl when the headlights stopped moving. The car had stopped. The engine cut out, leaving the endless night full of silence. 

You swallowed. 

The cabin light flickered to life, yellow like a Halloween moon, illuminating a lone driver. He was looking at you. Handsome, square jaw and unruly black curls framing his brown skin. His eyes were the same dark shade of black, eyes that seemed to bore into you like a hawk that had caught its prey. 

You swallowed again. Something told you he wasn’t help.

The man stepped out of his vehicle. It was an old car, you understood immediately, probably a 1970's Charger. You didn't really know cars that well, but you’d seen a lot of Supernatural. 

He stalked across the road to you, the sounds of his cowboy boots crunching gravel the only noise that dared disturb the silence. The closer he got, the more of him you saw: streaks of silver in his hair, creases around his eyes and mouth. He was older than he held himself, ageless in his confidence and stature. He leaned against your door and knocked on the window.

Your battery was dead, so you couldn't roll it down. You opened it and he backed up. "Hey," he said, "you okay?" Immediately, your anxiety faded. He must be help. 

"My battery died," you said honestly, "you wouldn't happen to have a signal out here, would you? Or jumper cables?" 

He looked you up and down and then smiled, the act making your system flood with endorphins. He was really handsome. "I don't, have either that is, but I'll give you a lift into town. But only if my car likes you." 

You both laughed, but his felt... fake.It must have been flirting and he must have been nervous that his car would break down: cars that old didn’t function well on narrow roads like these, that’s how lots of people died. "What's your name?" You asked.

He gave you that charming smile again. "Milo. You?"

You have him your name. The two of you walked to his car, Milo petting the doorframe as if he were calming an animal before he opened it for you. 

Up close you could see that the car, despite its age, looked brand new. "She's beautiful." He must have been one of those motorheads that kept his car immaculate and then cried when a bird pooped on it. 

Milo seemed to beam at the compliment. Definitely a motorhead. "Most people call her an ‘it.’" 

You winked playfully. "I know a car is a man's most important tool," you replied.

He gestured to the car and you slipped in. He closed the door after you, the cabin light suddenly going black. "You have no idea." Milo went around to his door and settled in, the light coming on the moment he was touching the car again. Old cars could be finicky like that. "Seatbelt." You obeyed. He turned the key and the Charger roared to life, the headlights flashing red for a moment. You blinked and they were white. 

Milo drove out onto the road. And immediately, your anxiety was flaring, screaming for you to get the fuck out of this car. You ignored your instincts and let him drive, wringing your fingers in your lap as sweat slipped over your skin. And then, just as soon as he'd started driving, Milo pulled over. "I can't do this." 

That agitated your anxiety, bile clawing at your throat. “Can’t do what?” Your voice was shaking.

Milo sighed, put his head on the steering wheel but didn’t cut the engine of his car. Or unlock the doors. “I’ll give you two choices.” He didn’t look at you, his voice low as the engine. “I can kill you and feed your soul to my car, or,” he paused, listening for your reaction, any creaks that indicate you were reaching for the locked door handle. You sat still. Deathly still. 

You shouldn’t have trusted him, but you were too scared to do anything. You sucked in a breath, trying to calm your panicking heart but nothing was working and Milo wasn’t giving you your other option. The option that would reveal that this was a all a funny joke and you’d both laugh and he’d drive you into town. 

He didn’t press. 

You did. “Or?”

Finally, Milo looked at you. “Normally I don’t get passed the first option before they start screaming.” He wasn’t joking. He kept watching you like he was waiting for you to shed your mask of calm and jump on the door, pounding and screaming for freedom. “The other option is to let me fuck you.” The charger’s engine was quiet compared to the impact of his words. 

“Fuck me?” You whispered. Kill you or fuck you? Your instincts were right. You should have run when you’d seen this handsome stranger pull up. “No, I... I think I should go back to my car and pretend I never met you. I won’t tell a soul I saw you, promise.” 

The Charger growled. Milo adjusted his crotch, licking his dry lips. “I’m letting you pick. You won’t get another chance.” Tense silence filled the car despite the roar of the engine. “Normally I would have just smashed your car into a pancake, and you by extension, but I... I have another hunger that I need sated. And I don’t want to play with a... a corpse.” 

Your pulse spiked again. “I think you should let me go,” you said again, “I really think that right now you should unlock this door and let me go.” Your heart was going faster than a startled rabbit’s. Milo wasn’t joking, you could tell by the discomfort on his skin, the itch to do something he wanted: kill or fuck. Oh God, he wasn’t fucking joking. If the car could devour your soul, there was no reason to even attempt the door. You were fucked. Or rather, you were about to be and then he’d feed you to his car.

Milo sighed. The door swung open. You didn’t question it. You bolted. 

You didn’t get far. 

Milo snagged you by the back of your shirt, dragging you across the unpaved road and shoving you onto the trunk of his car. The metal  hit your skull, making it sing inside you. It hurt. Milo pressed you hard against it. “The Charger,” he growled in your ear, “can digest a living body fast. Undead ones are harder on her stomach. Do you want to end up in the trunk, Y/N, or do you want a stranger to fuck you for ten, uncomfortably, pleasant minutes?”

He was pushing into you, his cock hard against your clothed cunt. “Please,” you begged, tears springing to your eyes again, “I just want to go home.” 

You heard him unbuckle his heavy belt, then unzip his jeans. Sweat was forming on your palms. “You’re privileged to have a home.” He yanked down your pants, roughly shoving his thick fingers into your entrance, feeling your slick ring of muscle and stretching you out by spreading his fingers to get ready for him. You whimpered against the Charger which seemed to purr under you, excited for what was about to happen. Milo roughly shoved a thumb into your clit, your knees immediately locking against one another to try and stop him, but Milo was firmly between your thighs. “And you’re privileged to get a choice.” When you didn’t reply he added, “Women usually like me.” 

“They probably aren’t raped on a demonic car,” you hissed at him. 

He paused. “Would you rather be raped in a demonic car?”

Was he being serious? “I’d rather not have any of this happen, actually.” 

He ignored that comment and started rubbing your clit again. His fingers started to slide in and out of you, gathering slick quickly like he knew all the buttons to get you wet and relaxed for him. Once he heard your treacherous cunt start to squelch under him and your muscles suckle at him, he removed his fingers and slipped his cock inside. 

He was undeniably big, filling you completely and then some. Your body tingled from the sensation, a strangled cry escaping your throat. His thick fingers dug into your hips, pulling you back until the head of his cock was kissing your cervix and then pushing in further. You were accommodating him easily, too well. You didn’t like that he was able to play your cunt to whatever tune he liked, but you couldn’t fight back against him or else his car would eat you. 

Slowly, he dragged his cock out and then pushed back in, rocking slowly as the Charger continued to purr under you, warm like the sun was still on it. “It feels good, doesn’t it?” Milo purred, resonating with his car, “I know women like you well, your parts that is. I know how to navigate your cunt until you’re crying.” As if to prove himself, Milo dug into your g-spot suddenly making you cry out. You were glad you couldn’t see his face, you knew he must have been smirking behind you, satisfied with how easily he pulled your puppet strings. 

And then headlights rounded the corner. Milo swore, grabbing you around the waist and pulling you inside the Charger. He slammed the door after him, the cabin lights shutting off the moment he’d settled into the car. 

Another car. A chance to be saved. You started to shout, but Milo covered your mouth and then thrusted up into you, the sensation making your entire body stiffen. It was up to them, they needed to realize you were being held hostage in a demonic car. Tears welled up in your eyes. 

They stopped, saw the two different cars, and the fact that one of them still had their engine going, and seemed to decide that everything was fine before driving off. 

“We can’t stay here,” Milo muttered. He adjusted his seat, pulling back and pushing you against the wheel. “Drive. I’ll mind the gas.” 

His cock was still inside you. His hands were still on your hips. He expected you to drive down a windy, narrow cliff with his fat dick pumping inside your cunt. “No.” You sobbed. “Don’t make me.” 

“Then turn around,” he growled, “and hold onto me. Either way, I’m not done with you.” 

“I’ll kill us,” you sobbed. 

“Then turn around.” 

“You’ll kill us.” You sobbed, again. 

“I won’t.” He was barely giving you a choice again. Reluctantly, you turned to face him, his hands still on your hips to keep his cock where he liked it. Then he pulled your arms behind his neck, adjusted his seat again, and shifted the car to drive. It lurched under him, responding to his touch smoothly as it started its descent down the cliffside. 

Milo put one hand on the wheel on the other on your hip, pinching you to start moving. You swallowed a sob and obeyed. You lifted yourself and speared yourself coming down. Heat gathering at your core. Milo pinched you again and again until you’d built up a solid rhythm, up and down as he drove, trying to ignore the way your body swayed with each turn and how good he felt inside you even though this was the last thing you wanted. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, groaning as he went, the Charger’s engine sounding pleased as it purred down the cliff. It was reacting as if it were being ridden by a terrified stranger. 

“Faster,” Milo snarled in your ear, “move faster.” You obeyed, biting your lip to stop the sob of pleasure and fear. You slammed harder and faster onto him, choking on a moan when you accidentally hit your own g-spot. Milo didn’t seem to mind, pinching your hip to keep you moving. He wanted you to do it again. 

“Please,” you begged, “just let me go.” 

Milo shushed you, “We’re almost done.” He kissed the side of your head, making your stomach twist. “You’re allowed to cum, too.” 

“I don’t want to.” 

He remained silent and pinched your hip. 

You obeyed and swallowed your sobs, fresh hot tears streaming down your face and wetting Milo’s hair. He didn’t seem to mind. You kept riding him and kept swallowing your sobs as his dick hit your g-spot and you had no choice but to cling to him as both your ends were approaching. You were going to cum on a demon’s dick. 

Milo seemed to be growing impatient. He pulled over to the side of the road and put the cark in park before he wrapped his arms around your waist and started slamming into you, fucking you roughly until you were screaming for him to slow down. You didn’t want to cum. You didn’t want to cum. You didn’t—. You screamed as heat enveloped your body, something in your core snapping as your cunt sucked on Milo’s dick for his cum. He shot it inside you, hot and plentiful. Milo didn’t pull you off him, instead burying his face in your neck again. “I like,” he said, “I really, really like you.” 

The driver’s side door swung open and Milo walked out into the night, still inside of you. 

“Are you going to let me go?” Your voice was small.

Milo didn’t respond. He opened his trunk and cold dread welled up in your belly. “I haven’t made up my mind.” And then he was dropping you inside and slamming the trunk closed.  

[ladydorian05]

Fluff 4 and Angst 8 for Whiskey? From the sentence starters post?💓

Angst 8. “Is that blood?” “…No?”

Fluff 4. “Have you always been this beautiful?”

DArling!!! This became a monster of a fic, hope you like it, I struggled a bit with Whiskey, the mother fucker refused to do and say what I wanted him to, but at the end I got him to do it. (I’s probably a mess, but I’m proud of this mess)

The angst well there’s a bit of it but the fluff won over it. Tried to make it gender neutral AND THEN I failed so it’s F! Reader,there’s no Y/n (that I remember).

Give me something to write about from this list

Alright so here it is (excuse the title all my creativity went to the story):

Whiskey x f!reader

Warnings: Guns, mentions of death, some specific stuff but not really detailed or extremely gore like.

Word count: 2K and something

I apologise for any typo, I was too excited to post it to make any kind of proof read.

Small Edit: Okay I think a I fixed all the typos and filled in some things my tired brain thought it wrote but it actually didn’t. Plus Oloreaa’s suggestions.

His huntress 

It was supposed to be an easy mission, the easiest assignment the both of you had been send to complete ever since you were paired up with agent Whiskey. Get inside the base of a small terrorist group, terminate their operations, call for clean up and go back to HQ. Easy. Until it wasn’t.

The base wasn’t that big, but it was well hidden underground inside an old nuclear bunker, surrounded by a thick forest, they counted seven men patrolling the perimeter and only two guarding the entrance, no cameras according to the new Ginger. The men were silently taken care of with the modified glove-crossbow on your right wrist and Whiskey’s electric lasso. 9 down, 5 to go.

“Ginger, I’m moving in,” you said.

“Copy that, you’re going underground, there’s a chance we’ll lose contact once inside.” His voice came through your earpiece.

“Got it. Whiskey, cover me.” Out of the two, you were better at being stealthy.

“You got it sweetheart.” With him at the entrance, you proceeded to go down a flight of stairs to get inside the base. You found yourself in a long corridor, three doorways ahead, two on each side of the hall and a bigger one at the end, you went inside the closest one to your right.

The small room was used to store wooden crates, inspecting an open one you found it was full of assault rifles of an impressive variety, another box held some bullet proof vests, it seemed like you stumbled upon their armoury. Idiots, who leaves all of their resources right at the entrance.

You go back to the corridor to check the second room, this one slightly bigger than the first. Inside you found at least 6 cots arranged to leave just enough room to walk around. Two of them were currently being in use.

Checking that your crossbow was loaded and with the safety off you slowly made your way to the man closest to the door, while you prefer to operate with your, according to the man that carries a whip and a lasso at all times,  ‘weird’ choice of a weapon for it’s quiet characteristics, you can admit some times it wasn’t the most accurate choice, unless you were the one using it of course; still you couldn’t take any chances of missing.

Once you were happy with the distance, with a well-controlled move of a finger the metal arrow went flying, puncturing a hole into the side your target’s skull killing him instantly, you made quick work of the second one in much the same way.

You were about to retrace your steps when you heard the small noise of dirt scraping against the sole of shoes behind you. Discreetly grabbing one of the throwing knifes strapped to your torso in your hand, you waited for your would-be attacker to make their move.

Then you felt someone’s breath over your shoulder. Turning around you made an arc with your knife aiming to lodge it in the throat of whoever dared to sneak up on you.

However, your hand was stopped by a bigger hand wrapping round your wrist.

“How we doin’ darling?”

Oh, you’d recognise that accent anywhere.

“Whiskey! What the fuck are you doing here!?” You exclaimed in a hushed tone. The asshole had the nerve to throw a smug smirk at you, making his stupid dimple appear.

“Got bored waiting outside,” he said shrugging “besides I wanted to show you that I can actually be quiet.”

“Yeah, right I heard you coming. Come on, only three left and one more area to check.”

“Ladies first.”

Rolling your eyes, you made your way back to the hall. The last room seemed to be the biggest judging by the double doors keeping you out from it. Guns in hand, you flanked the left side while Whiskey took the right.

“So how do you want to do it? My way or your way?” You asked him.

“What’s the difference?”

“For starters, I don’t have much of a flare for dramatic entrances.”

“It was ONE time.” There was a moment of silence as you stared at each other. “Fine, your way.” He grumbled.

You slightly pushed your door to take a peek inside the room.

“Shit.”

All of the intel given to the both of you before leaving HQ was on point, the location of the base, the number of people guarding the entrance, their lack of actual surveillance equipment, even the fact that they had a big arsenal. Everything was just as they were told it would be, all except that their base was bigger than they thought and they had more people than anticipated.

Either these guys were smarter than you gave them credit for keeping most of their members inside their base or the Statesman intelligence department needed an upgrade. Probably both. This just complicated your ‘easy’ mission.

But you can’t blame the new Ginger Ale, even if he was a genius, he was still pretty young and had to step in to fill some big shoes when their dear former Ginger made the jump to field agent.

In any case, the lack of that particular bit of information got you and your partner into quite the sticky situation.

“What?” Whiskey’s attention focused on your troubled expression. “Jäger, what’s wrong?” The use of your code name snapped you out of your inner turmoil.

Slowly you closed the door, returned your gun to its holster and took a step back from it.

“Ginger, do you copy?” Nothing.” Ginger?” Fuck, no signal.

“Sweetheart, you okay there?”

“Maybe we should go back to their armoury and check if they have some grenades we can use” You muttered biting your thumb.

“Hey, sugar, talk to me, please.” Whiskey said grabbing your shoulders with his hands, you could see the worry in his eyes. “What did you see in there?”

“There are more than 3 people inside that place, and it’s way bigger than the other rooms.” You answered with a sight.

“Fuck, how many?” He took off his black Stetson and ran a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know, I counted at least ten moving around that side of the room. They were going over some board with a map.”

“Ten, okay, we can work with ten, we’ve taken more than ten before. Piece of cake.”

“Whiskey, that was just one side, there’s probably more of them.”

“Hey, calm down sugar. I know you don’t like it when surprises like this happen, I don’t like it either. But we’ve been through worse with less.”

“You’re right. You’re right.” You said nodding you head slowly, a plan already forming in your head. “Okay, we’ll go back to the first room and see what we can find.” He gives you a quick nod before leading the way to the room.

You were in luck, you actually found a couple of smoke grenades inside a smaller crate along with gas masks, they would work just fine. Taking one of the grenades and an assault riffle for each of you, together you walked towards the door.

“Hey, Whiskey, ready for the rodeo? In the end we’re actually going to do it your way.”

“Only if you’re ready for the hunt, Jäger.” He answered with a dashing smile.

“Always.”

“Alright, put your mask on.” You nodded; mask already secure on your face “On three. One. Two.”  You pulled the pin of the smoke grenade.

“Three.” Whiskey kicked the doors open, giving you the chance to confirm that there were definitely more than ten people inside; and you threw the grenade inside. In seconds the whole place was filled with smoke, alarmed screams and the sound of people coughing.

“Hey sweetheart! Bet I can take more than you!”

“You wish”

At first it was fairly easy to pick on the men in the confusion of the surprise attack with the cover of the smoke. But it seemed the place had a better ventilation system than you thought. The smoke began to clear from the space and with the renewed visibility came the actual fight.

“Eight!” You heard Whiskey shout over all the noise

Shit.

You ripped the mask from your face. Bullets began to fly, both from their guns and yours. You were lucky to find that they only had handguns on them, their heavy so all weapons were back at the first room. Discarding your now empty rifle you grabbed your handgun from its holster. One by one the men began to fall, some with bullets others with crossbow bolts. The ones that didn’t have guns had knifes on them, you made sure to take care of the ones with guns first, and the ones with knifes, well none could get close enough to actually make use of them.

“Twenty-five! How you doing over there, cowboy!” You shouted over your shoulder after falling another knife guy.

You turned completely when you got no answer from the boisterous man.

“Whiskey?” You called, only now noticing that you were the only one still standing inside the room. “Fuck.”

You swept the room with your eyes in search of your partner, finding only the dead bodies of your attackers. He wasn’t there.

“Whiskey! I swear if this is a fucking joke, I’m going to kill you myself!”

How was that possible? Only seconds ago, you could hear the distinct noise of his custom-made guns. Was he taken? Where you so engrossed on your stupid bet that you didn’t even notice if your partner needed help?

FUCK.

Fear began to creep up on you, you were about to retrace your steps back to the way you came. Then you felt slight breeze coming from the back of the room, soon after you heard the crack of a whip.

Without thinking you ran in that direction finding a short corridor with a single turn to the right, it led to a flight of stairs and an open door. Taking two steps at a time you soon found yourself outside surrounded by tall trees.

Scanning the place, you finally found what you were looking for. A good 6 feet away from you, leaning his back on a tree, right hand still holding his whip while the other was holding his side.

You made your way to him, breathing heavily, you don’t know if it was because of the fight or the near panic state the disappearance of your partner left in its wake. And you certainly didn’t care.

“There you are sugar. Was beginning to wonder if you’d find the little back door in there.” Taking notice of you, he slid to ground with a grunt. “You seemed be having too much fun back there.” He looked at you with a smirk on his face once you were almost at his side. “So, how many did you take down?”

“Is that blood?” Was the only answer he got.

“…No?”

“Really, then what is that red liquid stuff coming out from your side?”

“Would you believe me if I told you it’s ketchup?”

“Seriously Whiskey!?”

“It’s nothing, just a scratch. One of the assholes got lucky that’s all, but hey, I got him back for it.” He said nodding to his left were a few feet away laid the beheaded body of a man. Some times you forget that his whip is also electrified.

“Whiskey? Jägermaister? Do you copy?” Ginger’s voice in your ear interrupted the reprimand that was about to come out of your mouth.

“Jäger here, good to have you back, mission completed, call in the cleaning team. And send case evac, Whiskey got hit.” You said as you took out a small emergency kit from a bag strapped to your thigh, removing Whiskey’s hand from his wound to take a look at it.

“You got it. ETA to your location 5 min, I had them on hold when I lost communication with you guys.”

“Thank you Ginger, Jäger out.”

“Have you always been this beautiful? How lucky am I to have such a vision taking care of me?” Whiskey said letting his body relax a bit more against the tree. “Mmmm, getting’ handsy already I see.” You felt more than heard the way his already deep and rich voice turned husky when you tried to get his clothes out of the way to press some gauze pre prepared with some antibiotic liquid.

“Really Whiskey?” You let out a sigh, exasperated with the man you were trying to help so that he wouldn’t bleed out before actual help arrived.

“What? The mission’s over, we got them and we’re both alive.”

“We’re still out in the open on enemy territory, what if there’s more of them?”

“Don’t think so. And back up is on the way.”

“So, this time is going to be you, huh? You’re breaking character already? Not even going to wait until we’re on the road.”

After becoming a couple, the both of you figured out that this was only going to work if you separated, even if only in a small way, your work from your private life and so you agreed that on any kind of mission you were first and fore most partners covering each other’s back, keeping the easy friendship and banter from the first year of your partnership. Even if that meant having to put up with his old douchebag personality.

It wasn’t always easy, especially when one of you got hurt, it was mainly in those circumstances when the charade fell apart and both of you behaved like the couple you actually were behind closed doors. Champ didn’t mind as much, bless you boss for putting up with both yours and Jack’s shit, as long as it didn’t affect your jobs.

It even became a game between you, on who would break character first.

“Nope.” He chuckled for a bit before his face turned into a grimace. “Fuck that hurts. Besides, it’s probably because of the blood loss.”

“Dammit Jack, even more reason for you to let me check that wound.”

“Alright, you win. With one condition.”

“What.”

“Let me use your lap as a pillow when you’re done.”

“If with that you’re going to let me work, then yes.” After that he stayed silent letting you work on his wound in peace. Once you finished applying a dry piece of gauze to help stop the bleeding, you patted his arm,” Come on hot stuff, get over here.” You watched as a big smile appeared on his handsome face.

Slowly you helped him get comfortable taking off his Stetson from his head, how he always manages to keep it on it’s beyond you, leaving it on your other side. “Hmmm yes. I’m feeling so much better already.”

“Just don’t get too comfy. We’re getting out of here soon.”

“Mmmhmm” You began to run your hands through his hair. “ ’M gonna fall asleep if you keep doing that.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Then stop.” There was a moment of peace between you two, just enjoying the fact that both of you made it out of another dangerous situation. “So, how many?”

“Hmm?”

“How many did you get?”

“Oh, 25.”

“Really!?” His eyes opened up in surprise.

“Yup.”

“Damn baby. That’s my girl!” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“You?”

“20. Got distracted running after the asshole that poked me. Can you believe it? He actually tried to run away! No sir, not after poking my gut with a knife.”

“You call that poking!? God, I don’t want to know what you consider an actual stab.”

“Oh, you really don’t want to know! So, you won, my gorgeous huntress, what shall you ask for as a prize?”

“First, I want you to get patched up, then I want to take a shower, after that I was thinking about going back home and sleep for the rest of the day. The mission report can wait.”

“Hmm that sounds nice love. How about you wait for them to release me and we change that shower for a bath with me once we’re back home.” He said wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“But I still want to sleep the rest of the day after that, so don’t get any ideas.”

“We’ll see.”

The sound of a bunch of trucks closing in on your location brought you out of your small moment with the man you love.

“Well, looks like we’re going home sweetheart.”

[sickcyclist]

This is the story of my day. It actually starts yesterday, when a heaven-sent rain swept in and cleared the smoke and cooled the air and tamped down the dust on the trails. I went on a bike ride because days like that are a gift. I have exercise-induced hypoxemia, which basically means that my oxygen drops when I exercise for reasons that we still don’t understand. Exercising with oxygen helps, but I still drop into the mid-80s. I knew I was too sick to ride and that doing so would make me much more sick, but I needed it for my mind so I was willing to sacrifice my body.

So that’s the first lesson of being sick. Everyone tells you that you have to be active and it will make things better and all you have to do is just push yourself hard enough. We’ve internalized this message to the point that many people believe sick people could get better if they just PUSHED. But that’s not always true. Sometimes pushing makes you worse. Sometimes it makes you much, much worse. And that can be true even if being active and pushing hard is something you love so much that it feels like it’s core to who you are.

I knew I would have to sleep for 12+ hours to make up for the ride, and I knew that I would have bad oxygen saturation stats because of it. And since I don’t have a real job, it should be easy to just take a lazy day (or week, or month) and get better, right? But actually I do have a real job and that job is to keep myself alive. It’s the job of a lot of us who are chronically ill, and it’s not a profession I would recommend. It’s not fun and it’s not rewarding and no one admires you for it and you’re not asked to speak to 5th graders on career day and you rarely get to move on to a newer, more interesting project.

Here’s what this particular day at work looked like for me. I woke up to a voicemail saying that my pulmonology appointment for Friday had been cancelled. I’ve been waiting to see a pulmonologist since March and was supposed to have an appointment weeks ago, but that was cancelled because the doctor quit two days beforehand. The other doctor in town couldn’t see me until the end of October, so I looked for a doctor in a bigger town hundreds of miles away. She comes highly recommended and in a way I’m happy because I strongly prefer female doctors, but for whatever reason she had to “clear her morning.” My new appointment is five weeks from now. I got off the phone and sobbed, which is not a good thing to do when your lungs don’t work. I probably could have toughed it up and avoided crying if I hadn’t worn myself down so much biking yesterday, but such is life.

I emailed my primary care provider asking for a note saying I could travel with my portable oxygen concentrator. I was supposed to get this letter from my pulmonologist, but now I won’t have a pulmonologist before I travel. The letter has to say that I use oxygen for sleep and activity, but it also has to specify that I won’t use oxygen on the plane. Which is a little funny because airplanes have extremely powerful oxygen-producing systems for emergencies, but they don’t like people who need oxygen because they don’t like the risk that comes with having sick people on board (think emergency landings). So people who need oxygen all the time need their own oxygen concentrator and battery power for the equivalent of 1.5x the time they will be in the air. I’m going on an 8-hour flight and it would cost about $400 to get strong enough batteries for that length. So I need them to let me carry my machine, which has lithium ion batteries that are otherwise prohibited. But in order to carry my machine I need to prove that I won’t be needing it.

I have a great primary care provider. I knew she would write the note. Easy peasy.

My next voicemail was from the specialty pharmacy that my insurance provider uses for certain drugs. I am allergic to a hormone all women produce as part of the menstrual cycle. This allergy is so severe that it has been responsible for 5 miscarriages, and it also means that I’m more miserable than usual for half the month. The good news is that all you have to do to stop it is take out your ovaries, but when you do that you go into full menopause. Which is not desirable because it increases your risk of cancer and osteoporosis and just overall mortality. Like not even from one thing. Just people who go into menopause early die early from all causes and we don’t know why.

That gives you some perspective on what the benefits have to look like in order for the cost-benefit analysis to still auger in favor of ovary removal. But since it is such a serious choice, you have to be sure. And the way you make sure is to stop your ovaries from working with a drug. The drug has hideous short and long term side effects, so if you feel better while taking it, that’s a pretty strong sign that an oophorectomy is the choice for you.

Approval for me to receive this particular drug was in limbo because the provider accidentally entered the wrong diagnosis. I have, as you can imagine, a lot of diagnoses. Entering the wrong diagnosis in this case was particularly funny because I’ve spent the last 6 months fighting with Blue Cross to get an expensive medicine that helps with my allergies. This medicine (Xolair) is approved for chronic urticaria (hives). It is not approved for progesterone hypersensitivity. I have both, which means I itch a lot for two weeks of the month and itch so much that I want to peel my skin off for two weeks of the month. Blue Cross argued that I wanted the drug for progesterone hypersensitivity. No medical provider said that, but it was the diagnosis they could use to deny the drug. Xolair costs $4000 a month. At that price it’s worth it to them to grind people down and hope they give up. It took four appeals and my lawyer (husband) to get the drug approved because I do indeed have chronic urticaria. It’s worked wonders for me, especially being allergic to the sun. You have no idea how easy it is to descend into madness when you are itchy all the time.

I went over all this with my new OB. I explained that, while the allergy shot solved the itching, it didn’t fix any of my systemic problems, which is why I was still interested in removing my ovaries. And because the conversation focused on how this ovary-suppressing drug (Lupron) specifically wasn’t for urticaria, it’s perhaps not surprising that she accidentally listed urticaria as the reason for the prescription. It’s like when you’re afraid you’ll mispronounce someone’s name. You tell yourself, “Say Kee-a, not Ky-a,” so many times that you’re basically guaranteed to call the person Ky-a.

So my ovary medicine was denied, of course, but I contacted my doctor’s office last week explaining the problem and they were very quick to apologize and resubmit. I returned the call from the specialty pharmacy but apparently they had just wanted to let me know that they were sorry for the delay. It was very polite of them but maybe didn’t require a phone call.

Then I got an email from Blue Cross Blue Shield. I logged in to read that coverage had again been denied (no reason stated) and that if I wanted to appeal the decision I would have to appeal through their specialty pharmacy. They gave me the name and number. Of a different specialty pharmacy than the one I had been dealing with for the past month. The one that I had already wrangled account numbers and diagnosis codes and special customer service phone lines out of. I typed up a polite response inquiring why I need to change pharmacies. And then I cried, but only just a little this time.

Then I called Walgreen’s because my medication for muscle spasms had been delayed and I received a note saying the pharmacist needed to speak to me. I am hypermobile so my connective tissue is just a little too bendy. My joints slip in and out all the time and my muscles have to overwork to hold my body together. Frequently they overwork so much that they lock up. This happens much more frequently in the progesterone-dominant phase of my cycle. Physical therapy is the best treatment, but sometimes I need muscles relaxants before I can even start physical therapy.

The man I spoke to at Walgreen’s told me I didn’t have a prescription for that drug. Then he told me I had a prescription but it had expired in March of 2020. I knew that wasn’t true because I hadn’t used it for years but had to start again when I got COVID. So I had no prescription in March of 2020 but I definitely did in March of 2021. No big deal. Just a simple computer error. Totally understandable in a pandemic, and I knew my doctor would refill it anyway. But he apparently felt that it was a big deal and wouldn’t submit the refill to my provider. I have no idea why. Maybe he thought I was engaged in drug-seeking behavior. Or maybe he was having a bad day. But he wouldn’t submit the refill. I hung up the phone and screamed. Loudly. Which really is not a good thing to do when your lungs don’t work.

Murry came up and rubbed the spasm out of my shoulder and listened to me vent and offered to be my medical power of attorney so he could deal with these people for me. But he’s the one with the real job that earns real money and when I’m sick he also cooks and cleans and does the shopping and walks the dogs. I may not be any good at the shitty job I had, but there’s no way I’m going to make him do it.

I switched tactics and chatted with someone through the Walgreen’s app. He was lovely and had no problem submitting my prescription for a refill. Easy peasy.

My final task for the day was calling to find out about the status of my CPAP prescription. I don’t have sleep apnea but while I’m asleep my breathing does slow down significantly enough that my oxygen drops (hypopnea). I need a special CPAP that adjust the pressure to my breathing, but it will get me off of oxygen at night. I’m very excited for it.

My insurance does not require prior authorization for CPAP prescriptions. However, St. Pete’s has its own prior authorization department that I guess makes sure you are not lying about not needing prior authorization? This department is, apparently, understaffed. I called my oxygen “rep” to find out how it was going. She very kindly bypassed the prior authorization department and called Blue Cross directly. Blue Cross informed her, as had I, that a prior authorization was not necessary. She could officially get me a CPAP.

Except that there is a national CPAP shortage. So she will try her best to get me one as soon as they get more. Hopefully this month. Even the rare, wonderful people who try to help you are sometimes as helpless as you.

I didn’t cry this time. Crying doesn’t fix anything and I can’t risk losing more oxygen. So I turned to writing therapy instead.

This was a bad day at work, but there are rarely good ones. It sucks to be sick, but I’m smart, articulate, overly educated, wealthy, and white. It could suck so, so much more. Someday I’ll turn all of this knowledge that I never wanted into something that helps people other than myself. Until then maybe someone will read this and know they are not alone. If being sick is your job, I see you. I would give you a hug—or a bonus!—if I could.

[chimswae]

BTS Caretaker CH41

Summary: She may think she has Bangtan Sonyeondan wrapped around her fingers. She may think it is easy to love the members equally without hurting any soul. She may think the boys wont fall head over heels for her. She assumes it is okay to show a little love and affection towards the boys, what if she gets it all wrong? What if it only brings more complication to her already complicated life? Can she survive their charms? Will she be able to resist them? What if they just wont let her go?

- Pairing: BTS x Oc ( Yoongi x OC, Jungkook x OC)

- Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst, Romance, Idol!au

- Word Count: 4,174

- Author Note: Happy Eid to those who celebrate, and yes this chapter is pure fluff <3 we lovee seulliee and yoongii and bangtannies!

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Chapter 41

“Are you two like together now?” Namjoon eyed the two lovebirds with so much interest followed by whistles in the background by the rest of the members. The tease went on when Seul moved away and hid her pink face in Yoongi’s arm practically clinging onto her dear life.

“Obviously. For some reason, Seul is being extremely clingy around hyung” said Jungkook with his eyes fixed on his phone playing the usual online games.

Offended by the remarks, Seul finally let go Yoongi’s arm and glared at his way “I am not being clingy. The thought of dating Yoongi is too much for me to comprehend” she murmured lowly.

“Wait until you live under the same roof as him then you know, it is not easy to handle Yoongi” Jin stated in the matter of fact tone receiving a dissatisfied look from the pale man.  “Are you done exposing me to my girlfriend?” Yoongi snickered.

“Girlfriend” they responded in unison as though it was not enough to tease the two with mere look and the members were practically ganging up on them. With a proud smile spread across his face, Namjoon nodded in satisfaction “I am glad both of you are together and there is no bad blood between us. Not really all of us but the rest of you whom actually see Seul more than a friend” he stressed that part and glanced at Jungkook and Jin.

Jungkook and Jin exchanged a meaningful look as they heard their leader continued “We have known each other for as long as I can remember, this issue should have not jeopardized our friendship. And, I am proud of everyone for taking this matter maturely. Especially, you Gukk” Seul sent a grateful smile to his way, and he winked in response.

“I.. want what is best for Yoongi hyung, for Bangtan and for Seul-ie. I can handle this” “I am sorry” Seul mumbled before Jungkook could finish off his words.

“I don’t want the guilt consume my heart, but it can’t be helped sometimes. I am sorry, because of me you almost ruin everything that you build together” Jin and Jungkook shook their head, heaving a soft sigh.

Yoongi’s arm was automatically wrapped around her shoulder as a comfort “Baby, you don’t need to be sorry. It is not your fault” he gave the top of her head a soft peck. “We care for you and we love you dearly” Seul blinked his tears, allowing Yoongi to pull her small body into his embrace.

“Seul-ah, your existence in our life is the best gift that we ever had. Thank you for being our friend and to treat us not as a celebrity but just us” Jin professed earnestly. “It is a wonderful feeling, to be able to love you. We will cherish that deep in our heart” Jimin murmured watching the girl turned fifty shades of pink in Yoongi’s arms.

“Me too nuna. You will always be my first love” the maknae muttered shyly as Jimin nudged him with a teasing smile.

“I bet Jungkook has learned a lot from it” Jimin retorted.

Sitting quietly at the corner was Taehyung with a worried frown evident on his forehead “I am sorry for losing my shit that time and hurt your feelings. I can’t forget the foolish mistake that I commit, ugh stupid me” he puckered his lower lips in protest of his own demeanour.

“Taetae, I thought we have settled that stop blaming yourself. I understand why you did that so, let’s forget about those horrible fight okay?” her smile radiates the room.

“So, when can we meet ahjumma? I am dying to meet her!” Hoseok eyes glimmered with hope as others nodded in agreement. It is about time to meet their caretaker ahjumma considering the issues of her contract has been resolved. Therefore, it wouldn’t be a big problem for them to meet Seul’s mother.

She grinned widely “Oh, mother talked to me about that. She wishes to meet all of you soon probably after undergoing her kidney transplant” their face lit up in pure excitement upon hearing the news.

“Mrs Hwang finally get a donor, that’s cool! when is the date of her operation?”  

“Next week and I will be taking few days off from work”

“But..we will be in Osaka next week” pressing his lips together, Yoongi hummed lowly. He really wanted to be by her side when the day come but knowing how it clashed with their Wings Tour in Osaka, Yoongi face harden at the thought.

Realizing his sour face, Seul slipped her arm around his waist admiring her boyfriend’s soft feature “I will be alright, focus on the tour okay?” at this point the rest of the soul inside the room were immune to the couple’s romantic gesture. As though watching them being touchy towards each other wasn’t enough to send chills down their spine.

“Maybe you can take the first flight after the concert end?” Jungkook suggested.

“No way, you guys need rest. Don’t think of flying anywhere after the concert” she frowned deeply despising the idea of leaving Macao without proper rest.

Yoongi seemed to be reconsidering the idea while glancing at the younger man with a grateful smile “That is not our first time. I like that idea Jungkook” Jungkook responded with a small salute.

“Baby you are not flying anywhere after the concert?!” Seul look bewildered as her eyes found its way to Jungkook, throwing daggers at his way.

“Baby~~” the guys chortled in unison once again causing the girl to squirm shyly. The eldest cringed not be able to handle more sweetness from them “As much as I like both of you I am so not used to see Yoongi and Seul together without fighting even for one minute” Yoongi swung his arm around Seul bringing the girl close to his body.

“She is using that mouth of hers for good things from now on” that remark earned a dissatisfied grunt from every member as they totally got what he meant by the good things. Rolling her eyes in annoyance, Seul chose to remain silent not going to get herself involved in the boys’ childish conversation.

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 Breaking: Underground rapper Stephanie took down her Instagram post with an open apology to BTS’s Suga and Army.

This week, the industry was shaken by Suga’s dating scandal that involved Stephanie, a Korean-Canadian underground rapper. The Instagram’s post by Stephanie which claimed that she’s one of BTS Suga many girlfriends earlier this week was already taken down by the rapper.

Stephanie then in her recent Instagram’s post posted an open apology acknowledging her mistake for causing the unnecessary misunderstanding and worries. She denied the rumours of knowing BTS Suga personally as they had never met in the past. The scandalous Instagram’s post was said to be directed to someone else which had nothing to do with Suga.

Bighit seemed to be taken the matter pertaining to their artiste seriously as Stephanie’s management is willing to give their full cooperation to solve the issues without problems. Netizens on the other hand are not convinced with the news and demanded an explanation from Suga in the near future. Fans are enraged of the netizens who send malicious comment towards BTS and claim that Suga has nothing to explain as he’s not at fault.

Bighit has finally put BTS’s Suga and Stephanie dating rumours to rest with an official statement by the label today. The label states “ The dating rumours about Suga and Stephanie are not true. They’ve never met each other in the past. None of BTS members own a personal social media account apart from the official one. We are looking into this matter seriously and a legal action will be taken to those who spread false rumour about BTS. Please continue to love and support BTS in the future. Thank you”

 Sprawling on the couch was Yoongi looking solemn and stress though the official statement by his label had cleared his name from the malicious rumours, he was worried of how it would affect the group as whole in the future. Guess, he must see it with his own eyes this Saturday during their concert.

Namjoon took a seat across him noticing Yoongi low energy ever since the article was out to public “Are you okay hyung? I think Bang Pd’s team had outdone themselves this time” he exclaimed softly fixing the glasses at the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t know. I am worried of how it will affect the group. The scandal was dirty and unacceptable Joon. If it only involve a dating scandal then it should be fine however.. this one.. people will be doubting BTS’s integrity and attitude. I am sorry..that it comes to this” he said in his deep voice.

The leader disagreed “You didn’t ask for this. It is never your fault, you are not the cause of this rumour to spread wildly like this. We know everything was a lie and we are in this together. Nothing can change that. There is no just BTS Suga, it is Bangtan Sonyeondan as whole. So, hyung don’t blame yourself for something you didn’t do” Yoongi sat up, rubbing his back head out of anger.

“What if it makes Seul doubt me?” it comes out nowhere, but his insecurity is severe since start, which is complicated for him to handle.

Unamused, Namjoon raised his brows with a perplexed look “Hyung, do you even hear yourself? Seul loves you with all her heart, what makes you think she will question your sincerity?” the latter shook his head in dismay.

“Both of you really need to spend a day together as if like a legit date. Have you even been to one?” the younger man pried answers from the already distressed man. Yoongi shook his head while recollecting the memories of him and Seul “One time, the bungee jumping” with that statement it brought laughter inside the room.

“Ew, who brings a woman to a bungee jumping for a date. Seriously hyung, you could do better. I am not amused” Namjoon retorted sarcastically.

Yoongi rolled his eyes offended by the leader response “It is romantic, and you should really try it out before laugh to my face” regaining his posture was Namjoon as he had a good time making fun of his hyung choice of date.

“Did Seul enjoy the date?”

“Of course!” he answered without any hesitation.

“I doubt that, knowing Seul, I bet you got cussed so hard that day” he chuckled at the thought of Seul’s fierce side.

Grunting lowly, Yoongi shot the fellow rapper a hard look shutting the guy’s mouth completely “Bring her to stargaze. Just both of you, a simple picnic-“ “Who does picnic at night?” suspicious with the ideas, he fired back earning a displease protest from the latter.

“I never heard picnic being associated with any period of time. I think this date fits both of you. You don’t like being in crowded place and prefer a quiet area. Seul doesn’t fancy an extravaganza date, so that will be perfect” he continued to fish Yoongi’s intrest.

“Picnic also means I have to cook something for us to eat” Yoongi expressed his concern.

Namjoon scrunched his nose in disbelief, if that’s what on his mind all this time then this man really need to get a dating class from a professional. “Prepare a simple one like sandwich. I thought we had enough practice from the Run BTS show, can’t you apply one of the recipes that we learned from that show for the sake of your date with Seul” he facepalmed as soon as Yoongi tilted his head in confusion.

“You do realize you can’t bring your proud ramen to a date right? Gosh, go and ask for Jin hyung’s help then” Yoongi loathed the idea of getting a help from Jin.

“He used to like Seul, I don’t trust him. What if he is planning to ruin my date by sabotaging the food?”

Overdramatic Yoongi was difficult to handle indeed. “Ramen is so unromantic hyung. I am against that choice of food. And, no alcohol. Seul doesn’t drink. Get help from Jin hyung to prepare a simple Kimbap at least. Who needs fancy food when all you do is making out?” his sarcasm has soared to a higher level challenging Yoongi’s ego.

“Yah! That is not true. Don’t turn me into a pervert”

“Aren’t you one?” a faint voice interrupted their serious conversation.  Sweaty Jin sank beside the leader with a playful smile “So are you planning to take Seul out for a romantic date?” he inquired the obvious. “I can help you with the food. I know Seul’s favourite food” Yoongi glared in process while his mind insisted on accepting the older guy’s offer, but the jealousy stopped him from doing the right thing.

“Who is dating Seul here? You or Jin Hyung…” he teased the grumpy man.

“Shut it. What can you cook for Seul?” a wide grin spread across Jin’s face upon hearing the request from Yoongi’s mouth.

Jin chuckled “Grocery shopping in an hour” he threw the used towel at Yoongi as he arose from his seat to get changed. Unwilling to spend the day at the grocery some more with Kim Seokjin, Yoongi pushed his body up considering this thing involved Seul like he could bail on Jin.

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Third attempt.

Fourth attempt.

Fifth attempt but came to no avail. There was no answer from Seul, now he wondered the girl’s whereabout. To begin with, this was Namjoon’s idea to not notify the busy girl beforehand about this date. He insisted that the surprise should start before the actual date took place.

“Kim Namjoon, I am so done with you” he grunted under his breath. Yoongi took this matter into his hand and decided to pick Seul up by his own. He should have done it sooner instead of listening to Namjoon’s fairy-tale.

The journey to Seul’s neighbourhood took approximately twenty minutes by public transportation. It has been a long time since he last used public transportation to anywhere. Even though he sneaked out once in awhile when he needed a fresh air, he avoided crowded place at all cost. Therefore, public transportation was not an option since he preferred to walk appreciating his surroundings.

He climbed up the stairs praying hard in his head that Seul would be home. On top of that, this would be his first time to meet Seul’s family. The thought of meeting their caretaker lady after years numbed his mind.

“Breath Min Yoongi.. Breath” he smoothed his sweaty palm against his dark wash jeans. Pressing the red button, he could hear heavy footsteps beyond the door hollering “Give me a second” not long after the door was opened wide.

Yoongi was welcomed by Hoon confused face “Yoongi hyung? What are you doing here?” he blinked rapidly making sure he’s seeing the right thing.

Swallowing the heavy lumps in his throat, he emitted a soft cough “Hi, Hoon. Ah, I am looking for Seul, is she home? She didn’t pick up my calls” Hoon shot him an unknowing smile and nodded in response to his early question.

“Nuna is home but she’s sleeping though. Do you want me to wake her up?”

“No, it is okay. Can I wake her up instead? I mean not to sound weird but yeah… I can do it, if you allow me” he mumbled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck in process.

Hoon chuckled lightly watching how a renowned rapper like Min Yoongi turned into an adorable puppy at his doorstep “You are nuna’s boyfriend, why should I mind if you want to wake her up. Come in hyung” he provided a space for Yoongi to walk.

“You know?” he entered the apartment.

“It is obvious. Plus, nuna is a bad liar. How can we not know? I am happy for you and nuna, please love my nuna and don’t hurt her” he closed the door behind him and led Yoongi to Seul’s bedroom.

Yoongi softened as a warm smile found its way on his handsome face “I promise to love her and to cherish her. She is an amazing woman, I won’t hurt her” Hoon opened the door to Seul’s room and signalled him to get inside.

“I trust you hyung. Mom would be happy to meet you, I will go get her. For now, go and wake nuna. She is a light sleeper, but it is hard to get her out from bed, so good luck” chuckling softly, he left Yoongi with one last ‘Hwaiting’.

He scanned the room admiring its ambience, simple and minimalistic just matched his personal preference. Now he had seen another side of Seul, it was another way in deepening their relationship.

Smiling bashfully to himself, he tore his gaze to the sleeping figure on the bed. Seul looked ten times cuter than she already did when she was asleep. His heart melted at the sight. Yoongi sat carefully not to wake her lover up.

You look effortlessly beautiful even in your sleep. He mentally complimented the girl before him. Unconsciously, his hand reached out to stroke the strand of her hair from covering her eyes. She stirred a little in her sleep, squinting her eyes in process as Yoongi returned to admire her sleeping face.

“Mmm..Hoon..What time is it” Seul croaked.

“Time for you to get up baby” he whispered playfully.

“Baby what?” reluctantly, she rubbed her eyes in protest. Even in this state, she never failed to amuse Yoongi with her grumpy side. What a thing to witness. Her eyes rounded in sheer horror realizing Yoongi’s presence in her room. Sitting up almost immediately, her hoarse voice boomed across the cold room “What in the world? Why are you here?!” she hissed.

“To take you out for a date, so get up” he grabbed her hands, pulling the lazy to girl to her feet.

“Yah, Min Suga! Don’t invade my personal space, you are unbelievable. And what date? That is so sudden!” ignoring the words that flew like a freaking bullet, he dragged the girl to the bathroom. “What are you doing get out!!!” she squirmed under his strong grasp.

Yoongi rolled his eyes, collecting her hair and tied it neatly into a bun. Dazed by his weird action, Seul didn’t know what to expect next. She watched him grabbing her purple toothbrush, pressing the toothpaste on it. Giving her no time to digest, he shoved the toothbrush inside her mouth softly.

“Open your mouth, wide” Yoongi motioned the girl to follow his action. She stared at their reflection through the mirror in disbelief. Did Min Yoongi just brush her teeth as if she’s 2 years old girl? Goodness, what the hell was he trying to do?

“Stay still, I am trying to brush your teeth woman!”

“I can do it by my own” Seul slapped his hand softly, allowing her to hold the brush instead. To her distaste, the stubborn man turned her body to face him and swept her up, placing her carefully at the edge of the marble top.

His brow flinched, unamused by Seul’s persistence “I will do it so can you just listen to me?” he swatted her hand, finally in charged of brushing Ji Seul’s teeth again. Unromantic and weird. Tired of fighting, Seul rolled her eyes only to earn a light smack on her forehead.

“Don’t be a brat” he snickered.

She puckered her lips, upset with the childish treatment. Seul shot her boyfriend a ‘I hate you forever’ look. Of course, that didn’t stop Yoongi to pamper her like a little girl. Yoongi stood in between her legs, and leaned forward to take a glass of water for Seul to rinse her mouth.

As much as she hated being treated like an incapable person, she enjoyed this soft moment with Yoongi. Something that never happened to before, so it was rather amusing to experience it with a guy like Yoongi. He dabbed her mouth with clean cloth and hung it loosely around her neck afterwards.

“Go shower and change. I will wait for you outside. Or do you want me to shower you? I am up for that” he smirked playfully.

“Ew, no. Unless you stink”

“I am not!” Seul giggled cutely, throwing her arms around his neck. “You smell just like my Min Yoongi” she nuzzled his face allowing the man to pull her body close.

“Stop seducing me, I don’t have self-control” he whispered against her lips, moving it painfully slow just to tease her patience. Murmuring softly, she softened her lips over his warmth one “Then, get out before I change my mind” he let out a low groan.

“I will make you pay soon” pulling the playful girl into a breathless kiss, he set her down giving her space to breathe. The more he stayed in the same room as hers, the dangerous it would be.

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“Heol, nuna you don’t expect to go out for a date in that outfit, right?” his jaw hung low as his eyes scanned her sister from head to toes. Seul cringed in displeased upon hearing Hoon’s remarks “What is wrong with my outfit? It is my favourite hoodie and jeans” she puffed her cheeks.

“You look perfect” Yoongi chuckled softly exchanging look with Mrs Hwang whilst Hoon crossed his arm in disagreement.

“You look ugly” he corrected.

“Yah Ji Hoon! It is just a date with Min Yoongi. It is not a big deal! Mom, please tell me I look good in this?” she shoved her hands inside the pocket and pouted in hope to receive a morale support from her dear mother.

Mrs Hwang chided “ To me your outfit matched Yoongi-ah. So, I think you look pretty. Hoon stop making fun of your sister” she warned. “Next time I will dress you up prettily, now go and enjoy your date” she gave Yoongi’s hand a soft pat.

“Take care of my daughter and don’t forget to be careful. You don’t want to get caught by fans” he pulled his usual gummy smile. “I will make sure to protect Seul, ahjumma. Urm, we’ll get going now then. It is nice meeting you. The rest of the members are excited to see you soon”

“I know. Come and meet me once I get better, I will let you know. Seul, be nice to Yoongi. Do not be a kid” Seul pursed her lips and walked up to her mother for a brief hug. “Yoongi is the kid here anyway. See you later”

The lovebirds exited the house hand in hand finally to their very first date which was not a typical date inside Suga’s Genius Lab. Something new and exciting.

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Laying casually on the grass covered by a clean cloth beneath, they enjoyed the cold breeze and the shimmering stars above them. For once Namjoon’s idea worked today and Yoongi couldn’t be happier than this knowing he spend a quality time with the love of his life.

Yoongi had his hand encircled tightly around Seul’s waist, caressing it slowly enjoying the warmth that he gained from this proximity. Scooting closer to Yoongi, she grazed her fingers on his chest while continue stargazing.

“I wish to say like this forever” he broke the silence, followed by a satisfied sigh.

Seul propped her chin on his chest, gazing at Yoongi face lovingly. His lips curled into a charming smile as he pushed her up to match his level “Stop weakening my heart. You are hard to resist even now” his eyes bore into hers.

“I am not used to romantic Suga. Guess, I am going to live with that thought in my mind” she blushed, rubbing their nose together.

“Every moment that we spend together from now on, I will make sure it is something unforgettable. So you will love me even more” his sweet and alluring voice hummed, driving her heart to the edge of the cliff.

She stroked his jaws, trailing a kiss along his nose to the corner of his lips “I think I am falling for you deeper without trying. I am going to miss you, being this close to you” his lips broke into another charming smile.

“When you miss me, just look up. Because the moon is the same wherever you go” Yoongi slid his hand to her neck, caressing it softly. Melted into his deep gaze, she felt his face inched to hers and his breath fanned against her skin.

“I will find my way home because you are my home” nibbling on her lips, he hovered her lips, kissing her sweetly.

You are my home. She repeated in her head multiple time devouring herself into this sweet moment.  Even the short kisses that they shared could render them breathless. Live in the moment and paint it with beautiful memories, because it is worth it.

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