#and of course he wont ASK for affection OR permission to have it. this is why he just Takes It. you must be stupid. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bjy-on-ao3 · 3 years

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Fic Friday: Respite

(As usual, you can find the AO3 version of all my uploads [and some things I don’t post here to tumblr] via my Masterlist blog page.)

Been playing a lot of FFXIV lately, so of course all the handsome men from it are taking up space in my head. I’ve written for a couple before in short form for Kinktober, but this is my first official one-shot for anything FFXIV. Took a good deal of cutscene study to pick up proper word usage/speech patterns, but I also got to listen to Aymeric, so that’s a plus.

Summary The Warrior of Light looks forward to some relaxation of sorts with their favorite denizen of Ishgard upon returning from an adventure.

Tags/Warnings Consensual Sex, Creampie, Established Relationship, Reader-Insert, Shameless Smut, Teasing, Vaginal Sex

Respite (F! WoL Reader/Aymeric de Borel)

Upon returning from yet another duty - the list of tasks both mundane and daunting assigned to you seemed insurmountable sometimes - you were looking forward to the hospitality oft afforded you in Ishgard. Hospitality likely borne from all the aid you had lent them and your standings with many prominent figures of Ishgardian society, but hospitality nonetheless. Of course, there was a particular hospitality you were most greatly anticipating, and it was that which you would tend to first.

You began by asking some of the stationed soldiers if the Lord Aymeric was in. Several of them had no clue, leaving you increasingly frustrated. Eventually though, you came across a man who could confirm that, yes, the Lord Commander had recently returned from some business and instructed you where you might find him.

So off you set, with a renewed spring in your step and a trembling anticipation that was a struggle to contain. It was obvious even to simple passersby how much more your mood had changed compared to when you had initially returned to the city, particularly brighter than after questioning the previous soldiers. Excitement overflowing or not, you tried to contain yourself, managing to not break out into a sprint through the stone cobbled streets and alarm the city folk.

At last, you pushed open the last doors you expected to separate you and your reunion with the Lord Commander. The sight of the man in all his armored elegance greeted you immediately, and you tried to the stifle a grin. For a split second, Aymeric de Borel remained unaware of your presence, engaged in conversation with an Ishgardian official you didn't recognize off the top of your head.

The sound of the doors and your boots on the ground though drew the attention of both elezen swiftly, however, and they glanced towards the interruption. You noticed a nearly imperceptible flicker in Aymeric's stunningly blue eyes as he saw who had arrived. But he was practiced in self-restraint, too, and the shift in his eyes had been all that spoke of his truest emotions. The smile that curled his lips, while pleasant, held the warmth acceptable of the standard pleasantries expected of him.

"Have I come at a bad time? I can return later, if must needs be," you said tentatively.

You knew Aymeric would be loath to turn you away - he hadn't seen you in several weeks thanks to various business that preoccupied either of you. Though you knew he took his responsibilities seriously, and you also didn't want to interrupt anything important.

Aymeric shook his head gently. "We were nearly done. You needn't go," Aymeric informed you, turning back to the other man. "Pray, keep me informed. I look forward to word of progress in the near future," he said with a respectful bow of his head.

With an agreeing nod and a few more words you didn’t bother to try to catch, the other man turned to take his leave. You moved aside courteously so as not to bar his way, and the pair of you exchanged cursory passing pleasantries. Then he was gone, leaving only you and Aymeric in the chamber.

Once Aymeric was certain you were alone, the initial spark of excitement you had spied in his eyes grew many fold, the blue tumultuous as stormy seas in his mirth. You hadn't doubted for a single ilm Aymeric would be happy to see you, but seeing the warmth and sparkle in his eyes was always reassuring. "I've news for you of my latest task," you started, tone level and business-like. A flash of disappointment darted across Aymeric's face at the prospect you had dropped by merely for the sake of business alone, as often the case unfortunately was.

"Though I find myself rather...tired from the trip. Would my Lord allow me a brief respite before my report?" you inquired, tone growing more coy. It was a bald-faced lie that you were tired, laced with an underlying subtle hint. A hint you doubted would go over Aymeric's head.

"Ah, of course. Come, come, allow me to escort you somewhere you might lie down for a time," he responded with a gentle sweep of one hand, moving closer to you. He lay a hand over your shoulder, as if to guide you in the right direction.

In the public eye, Aymeric might not even have laid that same light hand on you, appearances mattering as they did. You had shared many a more-than-pleasant private moment, yet still it seemed imperative that what you shared remained hidden from the rest of the world. And as much as a part of you would have loved to declare your affections for Aymeric to the very streets of Ishgard and all who might listen, you didn't mind keeping things quiet.

You fell in step with Aymeric, or as much as you could with his long strides, the featherlight touch on your shoulder settling just a bit heavier, slender fingers splaying more relaxed over you. As you went, you made a quip here or there, telling snippets of a story from one of your more fun adventures, knowing how well Aymeric enjoyed them. True be told, you did actually have business that required reporting at some point, but it wasn't urgent, so it could wait.

Several minutes whiled away as you spoke, taking in the subtle smile on Aymeric's lips that made your own grow with each moment and getting lost in the man before you, as you were wont to do in his presence. You came to another set of solid wooden doors and paused. Aymeric, gentleman as he was, quickly pushed them open before you, with a slight 'after you' motion. You took the invitation, walking into the room, certain to put a sway in your step, knowing he would watch all the way.

Following, Aymeric sealed the doors behind you, turning locks into place and double-checking they were secure. Too many close calls and interruptions had made the both of you wary of ensuring doors were actually locked. If an emergency occurred, they could very well tell either of you through the door - without catching you in a compromising position.

Satisfied the locks were secured tight, he turned to you, and the sparkling cheer in his vivid blue eyes darkened, pleasant still, but intense and a more raw. You made no move towards Aymeric, acting as if the act of fussing with various straps and buckles of your gear was far more interesting. Or mostly, at least. Aymeric seemed entertained enough watching you make slow progress, though wasn’t content only to watch for long.

"Might I lend a hand?" he asked, making his way toward you again. You huffed exaggeratedly and feigned ignoring the Lord Commander further. "Though perhaps you would rather struggle and do away with what little time we possess," he ribbed in a playful voice.

Arriving by your side, he didn't wait for your permission before he set to work assisting you, holding bits of leather or cloth or metal in place to make removing them easier or making quick work of various buckles and ties. With Aymeric's help it wasn't long before you were standing in the room - which you observed was a warmly decorated room appearing to be one of the more affluent guest rooms - hidden scarcely by your small clothes.

Aymeric didn't follow suit at first, instead reaching out toward you, while you, too, pressed yourself in closer, now free of your restrictive adventuring gear. Large hands spread across your back and over your rear, pulling you flush. The touch of his ornate armor plates here and there was cold, as if they had trapped the frigid air from outside, and you couldn't help but shudder. You quickly brushed off the sensation, in favor of leaning into Aymeric's embrace until your face hovered next to his.

There was a moment that internally went on forever until your lips met, in a way far more eager and passionate than before. It had been some time since you met the Lord Commander for a private moment, and all the pent-up desire came pouring out as soon as his fingers brushed over your skin and small clothes. Aymeric, too, seemed eager, but showed more restraint all the same. Sometimes his restraint was admirable, and you were jealous, though other times you wished, nay, longed for him to throw his restraint to the winds.

As you kissed, beginning mostly closed but fervent and a bit messy, Aymeric's hands stroked in light lines and circles over the skin and cloth they rested on, making you squirm impatiently. You grabbed handfuls of the cloth of his armor and tugged lightly, as if to convey your frustration at how he was still dressed head-to-toe.

A smile twisted your kiss, and he took the lead to deepen it, distracting your grasping hands. He relished your impatience and enthusiasm, even if he more oft than not didn't give into it immediately, even when your time together was fleeting. But it was always worth it in the end.

In an ardent rush of motion, you were suddenly beside the bed, with Aymeric urging you down to the sheets. He followed you down, though didn't immediately join you on the bed. You whined plaintively when he separated from the kiss and took a step back from the bedside, taking his warm touch with him. Your noise of complaint was silenced effectively though as he worked through discarding his own armor.

After a process that took far too long in your eyes and asked too much of your patience - or lack thereof - Aymeric had stripped away the pauldrons and plates and cloth, carefully setting it all aside. Left only in his own small clothes, through which you could easily see his arousal strain, he at last joined you on the sheets. You moved up and back until you lay more securely on the sheets. Meeting you at the head of the bed, Aymeric pressed himself over top of you, his lips crashing back to yours.

In that moment Aymeric's admirable restraint frayed somewhat, as if he had shucked it off along with his armor. His lips pushed against yours more fervidly, his tongue trailing your lips and slipping between them when given the chance. You groaned, more than pleased to meet him in a twisting, passionate dance. Strong hands clasped you by the wrists when you moved to wrap your arms around him and you whined again.

When Aymeric broke the kiss again, it was to tip his head up and laugh gently, a warm, soft sound that made you shiver and rub your thighs together. "My, what troubles you, my love?" he asked, pretending an innocence that was ruined by the low, sultry timbre of his voice.

Half-lidded eyes stared down at you with a burning, affectionate intensity you had seen before. Even before you had come together, you had caught glimpses of it in Aymeric's eyes, mistaking it at first for only the admiration between friends and warriors-at-arms. But you could see it now for what it truly was. Between it and the desire making Aymeric's eyes dark and stormy, your breath nearly caught in your throat. But you shook off the awed stupor, focus returning to Aymeric's question.

Your lips curled into a pout before you spoke. "However can I touch you like this?" you complained, pushing against his unyielding grasp as if to emphasize your words.

Another amused, rich laugh met your question. "Ah, but you well know how your touch affects me," Aymeric rumbled. He dipped down until his lips ghosted the shell of your ear. "Pray, grant me some dignity, won't you, my dearest?"

You shivered again, snaring your lower lip between your teeth and biting down as if it might quiet the heat and pulse growing in your underwear. You freed it quickly when the hot touch of his tongue curled over your ear, followed by a coy nip on the lobe that made you gasp.

"Aa-alright, fine," you groaned out, bowing up unbidden into his body still pressed snugly to yours.

Your fingers flexed greedily, itching to break free and and draw your nails along his shoulders and back, or tug his lips back to yours to entangle you both in another mind-numbing kiss. But you yielded, making no attempt to escape his hold, and his grip shifted. Gathering both of your wrists in one large hand, the other was left to trail down your skin. A light touch dancing down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, before pausing at the top of your small clothes.

Pulling the fabric down to free your chest, he set to massaging each breast in slow, almost lazy motions, lingering to brush a teasing thumb over steadily standing nipples. You groaned his name softly, closing your eyes and basking in the sensation, letting your head fall back against the pillows and arching up into him once more. You whimpered when he pushed back, letting you feel each hot, hard inch of his body, the most intimidate parts of you hid away by scant scraps of thin fabric.

Your eyes had fluttered shut without meaning to, so keen you were on relishing the feeling. When they fluttered back open and you met his gaze, another roiling wave of desire hit you square in the gut. There was something more intent, sharp, primal, smoldering in the desire-deepened irises and wide blown pupils as he watched you lose yourself in the pleasure he provided. You swallowed hard, stifling another pleasured coo, and a mischief of sorts flashed through the swirl of emotions in Aymeric's expression.

His hand on your chest slowed until it was toying with each nipple frustratingly lightly, alternating between the two. You squirmed and whined, craving the more thorough touch from before. Aymeric's new touch was pleasant, but the bare brushes and strokes made you feel strangely over sensitive. You struggled reflexively against his grip again, not really trying to break free, whining his name in that same plaintive tone from before.

"Aymeric, was it not you who stated how short our time together is?" you tried to reason, knowing it was a wasted effort.

"Mm, it was, and I am enjoying such precious time to the utmost," he assured you. "Do you not share that sentiment, my dearest?" Aymeric added, as if daring you to speak otherwise.

Your face, already hot, flushed furiously further, equal parts flustered and frustrated from the game Aymeric was playing. He didn't enjoy teasing you quite so much, no, not so much as he enjoyed hearing how much you needed him in plain words. So he persuaded you to beg or demand of him what you wanted.

"Aymeric..." your tone was mock warning, serious but breathy, trying to deflect him half-heartedly, and hoping he would give you what he knew you wanted, but he wouldn't be so easily dissuaded.

He bent forward, continuing to teasingly massage your breasts, mouthing at the soft flesh of your throat and shoulders. "Tell me then what more you would ask of me?" he urged you. His teeth scraped against the column of your throat, and you groaned again.

By then, you were a ruin, skin abuzz with heat and desire and his fleeting touch. Your underwear felt damp and sticky, your arousal soaking it through, leaving an obvious wet spot on the cloth. Each little push sent you tumbling further and further, grinding down your resolve until you gave in at last.

"Pray, cease toying with me," you began to beg. "Fill me; I need to feel you inside of me, now. Nothing else will do," you finished, almost surprised at how thick the desire had made your voice. You tried to turn your head to reach Aymeric, to convince him more with what few kisses you could leave across his cheek and jaw despite being held down otherwise.You wriggled and ground your core against his needily, as if to prove your point. "Please, please."

"Who am to I deny you when you ask in a voice so divine?" Aymeric answered in a husky hush.

He released your wrists, though shot you a pinning stare that made you think twice about moving from your prostrate position. You settled for watching him sit up and move down your body, hooking his fingers beneath your underwear and dragging them down. You assisted as much as you could, and he discarded them to the side of the bed. Before removing his own underwear, he paused, dark eyes focusing on your newly revealed cunt, dripping and slick and inviting.

He drew one long finger up and down your slit until the digit was coated in your fluids. He withdrew it, raising it to his lips and somehow making a show of licking it clean seem refined. A deep, pleased hum rolled through him, and Aymeric turned to rid himself of the last article of clothing keeping him from you.

Just as your sopping cunt had drawn Aymeric's gaze, the sight of his erection, thick and hot and hard, crowned by a fat pearl of pre-cum. drew your attention. You licked your lips in anticipation, resisting with all you had to remain still and not sit up and reach for his cock. You wore that eagerness on your face readily, though, and another pleased laugh slipped from Aymeric's lips.

He shifted forward, covering your body with his again, though this time when his hips ground against yours, his erection slipped lewdly through your lips and you moaned; Half in the pleasure of feeling him so very close to the hottest part of you, half in anticipation, nearly shaking with it. But even though Aymeric had agreed to grant to your desires, his pace was leisurely, as if he had all the time in the world, rather than hardly a bell to spare. One hand reached up again to bind your wrists, despite how obedient you had thus far been.

Aymeric's other hand strayed to your face, cupping your jaw between his fingers. He tilted your head until it lay at the perfect angle for him to seal your lips together again and drink deep of the passion between you. Your eyes fluttered closed again as his tongue swept coyly across your lips, persuading you to let him in.You were all too glad to let him though, and as he slid his tongue into your mouth to explore and dance once more, he eased his hips forward, too, until his cock breached your folds and pressed into your awaiting entrance.

You would have moaned his name in gratitude for at last fulfilling your desires, in appreciation for the delicious way his cock sank deeper inside, but with your mouth preoccupied, you settled for a wordless groan smothered by his lips and tongue. Though the sensation of him stretching your walls was what you had craved, a sweetly maddening fullness that you would think about again when your duties took you far from Ishgard, it stung as well. Aymeric was no small man, and his thick cock filling you ached in a way that somehow melded exquisitely with the pleasure.

His tongue swept up yours, beginning to writhe and twist as he rocked his hips steadily against you, eliciting yet more muffled moans. You bucked up into his thrusts, longing for him to fill you up all over again each time his cock retreated, leaving so much of you feeling empty. The heat in your body had reached a fever pitch, breaking out on your skin in a slick sheen of sweat, and Aymeric, despite all his slow, precise actions, fared little better. His skin pressing into yours was just as slippery and hot, adding to the obscene sound of your bodies meeting.

The steady rhythm of Aymeric's thrusts, though increasing in force as time wore on and whatever willpower he had left dissolved, unwound you slowly, but surely. Your fingers and toes curled and flexed, and your chest rose and fell more quickly, breaths shallow. Around his cock your walls squeezed just as eagerly and as desperately. A familiar coil of pressure and heat in your belly was hard to ignore, blocking out all coherent thought, leaving you to worry only about chasing the high that was so close within your reach.

Throughput your coupling, Aymeric had spent much time matching the thrust and twirl of his tongue to his rocking hips, as if in imitation. The kiss had grown sloppy, wet, and hot, and when he tore his lips from yours eventually, his breath came in hot pants along with yours. He placed several more needy, desperate kisses on your jaw and your neck, the ragged sound of his breath informing you he was nearly as close to losing himself as you. Though he seemed determined not to do so before dragging you there first.

"Come now, my dearest, I want to feel you come to completion," he breathed huskily into your ear, finally releasing your jaw as one long arm trailed down between your bodies.

You whimpered and moaned aloud, barely having the sense to bite down on your lip and stifle the bawdy noise, lest someone in the corridors outside hear. "Oh, Aymeric, I-I..." you trailed off, mouth hanging open and forming a wordless 'oh' as all the pressure and heat came to a head when his fingers stroked through your folds and massaged your clit.

All you could do then was repeat his name, over and over, a ragged, breathy pray under your breath, as if you might completely drift away from the mounting bliss if you didn’t speak it. The build up reached its limit, and the coil snapped, and Aymeric's lips descended on yours again to quiet you as you cried out in earnest, unable to stop yourself. The rush that flowed through your body was liquid heat, searing and tingling. Your digits curled so tightly they ached, and your cunt fluttered frantically around Aymeric's cock. The pull of your body and the instinctive roll of your hips against him were Aymeric's siren song, luring him to the point of no return.

His moans, low and feral, rolled through him and died on your tongue in a reflection of your own. He drove himself harder forward, as if he might sink even deeper, fingers still dancing over your clit and dragging out your orgasm. After several desperate thrusts that filled the room with the obscene smack of sweat-slicked flesh colliding, Aymeric met his peak and tumbled over, each new pump into your heat filling you with ropes of cum. He pumped himself into your core through your orgasm and his, his grasp on your wrists tightening enough to make you gasp and wince through your pleasure.

His pace died away smoothly, each thrust weakening after he spent himself within you, until he lay still atop you, a heaving, sweaty mess. He lay his head in the crook of your throat, damp strands of ebony hair clinging to his forehead and tickling your skin. The startlingly cool touch of the earring he wore brushed your overheated skin, and you weren't sure if the sensation was pleasant or not. Even spent, his cock took a time to soften, occasionally twitching inside of you and making you start each time.

He withdrew gingerly, and a stray trickle of cum seeped down your thigh. Rolling over off you and onto his back, Aymeric pulled you along with him, urging you to settle yourself against him. Drained and sated, you rest your head in the same hollow of his throat as he had done to you moments before, placing tired, half-hearted kisses there. Splaying your arms across his chest, you were tempted to close your eyes and slip into a peaceful sleep. Someday there would be time to relax and laze for bells on ends, but wasn't one of those times and your fun had nearly reached its end.

Beside you, Aymeric seemed to be fighting off the same need, though was coming to the same conclusions as you, too. There was much to be done, and it didn’t matter how badly he wanted to remain in bed beside you. But he would ignore those duties for just a little longer. He sighed softly, curling an arm around you and pulling you a little tighter to him.

#writing #ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #aymeric de borel #ao3 #archive of our own #fic friday #nsft #n/s/f/w #reader insert

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chrisdiels-babygirl · 3 years

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It's All In Your Head Baby

This is my original writing you do not have permission to copy it. Changing the boy or slightly changing details is still plagiarism. If I find out that you've copied my writing I will not hesitate to publicly shame you and report your sorry ass✌🏼😗

(Bold writing is her anxiety thoughts, just so everyone knows)

✨Trigger Warning- talking about anxiety✨

You know what the funny thing is, is that when Chris' and I had started dating I had told him that I had anxiety, he looked at me and said it wasn't a problem because he still liked me, but I don't think Chris realized how big a problem my anxiety was going to be until lately, I had really been feeling the affects of my anxiety lately, I couldn't stop myself from thinking that the boys secretly hated me and found me annoying, that they were only friends with me because they felt sorry for me, that Chris secretly hated and found me annoying too, that he knew he could do better than me and he was just waiting for a hotter girl to come along so he could dump me. I know I should be reminding myself that all five of the boys love me no matter what and Chris would never replace me, but thats the cruel part about anxiety it makes you doubt yourself and second guess everything that you know is true.

I decided to try to maybe sleep it off, maybe when I woke up my anxiety would have subsided. Just as I layed down and fluttered my eyes closed I heard footsteps entering the bedroom "Qué estás haciendo" Chris asked, I gently opened my eyes "I was gonna take a nap" he looked at me with his adorable big brown eyes that I loved "did you forget you said you were coming with me to the party for work tonight? If you're not feeling well you should stay home though" he softly uttered as he looked into my eyes. I shot up out of the bed "no no I'll go, just give me a second to get ready" I said as I started to look through the closet, as Chris walked back out I sarcastically thought to myself, great you couldn't even remember his work function tonight, he probably thinks you're a great girlfriend, that voice in my head was mocking me, it was feeding on my insecurities and I knew that but I couldn't stop myself from thinking those thoughts. I didnt even really make that much of an effort tonight, I didn't really wanna get dressed up to sit in a room full of women who were hotter than me and they didn't even have to try, so I just put on the first dress I could find, put some make up on, put some heels on and grabbed my clutch. As I walked out of the bedroom Christopher's eyes scanned me over, a lazy smile stretched across his face "Te ves hermosa como siempre mi amor" he said walking towards me, he's lying, I did my best to give him a smile as I rushed to get my coat before he could get to me "we're going to be late, come on, let's go" I said rushing out the door.

We were in the car on our way to the event, Chris had placed his hand on my thigh like he usually did when he was driving, problem is he visibly noticed me recoil when he placed his hand there, the thing is I was doing what I usually did, pushing him away before he got the chance to hurt me, because in my head I felt like if I pushed him away it'll hurt less when he inevitably leaves me, he carefully pulled his hand off my thigh and put it back on the steering wheel "nena is everything alright" he quickly glanced at me with worry in his eyes, "yes I'm fine" no you're not, I gave him a weak smile. As we walked inside the venue we saw the rest of the boys sitting at our table, as we got closer the boys stood up to greet us, I quickly turned to Chris "I'm gonna go to the bar, I'll be back" I said rushing off in the direction of the bar. I could see Chris and the guys as they talked glancing over here every now and again they're probably talking about how annoying you are, Zabdiel made his way over to me at the bar, he carefully sat down in the seat next to me "do you wanna talk about it" he softly spoke as studied my face he doesn't really care "talk about what, there's nothing to discuss" he audibly sighed "come on y/n, Chris said you've been really distant with him the past week, you wont let him touch you or kiss you and you've been ignoring the rest of us too, I mean come on I thought we were best friends and best friends tell each other everything" he had a pleading look in his eye he's not really your best friend, he doesn't really care.

Later that night as we walked inside the apartment Chris stopped in the middle of the living room " do you not love me anymore?" I whirled around "what" I looked at him with disbelief in my eyes "do you not love me anymore nena? Because lately you barely talk to me, you wont let me touch you, I mean for god sake you hardly even look at me anymore, so if you don't love me anymore I'd really appreciate it if you'd tell me instead of ignoring me" he exsasperated. How do I even begin to tell the man that I love that my mind has been deceiving me, convincing me that he and the rest of the guys secretly hate me "of course I still love you, how could you think I don't? but i cant tell you you're going to think I'm being rediculous" I weakly whispered, he grabbed my face with both his hands "look at me, look at me nena, I wont think you're rediculous, I just need you to tell me what the problem is so I can fix it" he desperately pleaded looking into my eyes while worry flooded his, I turned away from him crossing my arms across my chest "I just- I just feel like lately that I'm a burden to you and the rest of the boys,that you don't really care about me, that you don't really love me, that as soon as you get the chance to leave me for someone hotter you will, so I've been pushing you away because in my head it'll make it hurt less when you decide to leave me" I ranted, the room flooded with silence, I quickly turned around only to see that Chris stood there with tears brimming his eyes "how could you think that nena, I love you, I love you so fucking much, all I've wanted to do for the past week is hug you, kiss you and love you, but I just felt like you didn't want me around" he whispered as his voice cracked and he sniffled, I suddenly started to cry also "Chris I could never stop loving you, you're one of the best parts of my day. Its just lately my anxiety has been making me doubt everything, like when you say you love me or when you say I look beautiful" his face softened even more if that was possible as he walked over, holding my face with his hands again, resting his forehead against mine "thats all in your head baby, your mind is lying to you, I love you so fucking much and I'm gonna keep reminding you and showing you if thats what it takes for you to believe me, te quiero mucho bebé" he softly muttered the last part as he leaned in further to press his plump lips against mine, I could feel all the passion, love and yearning Chris had for me displayed in this one kiss, the last week I had been feeling so crappy, who knew that all I needed was to talk to Chris and get a kiss from him to start feeling better. We spent the remainder of the evening cuddled up while, Netflix playing in the background as white noise, Chris occasionally kissed me, while he continuously reminded me of all the things he loved about me, while I also reminded him of all the things that made me fall in love with him.

#christopher velez #christopher velez fanfic #christopher velez angst #christopher velez fluff #my original writing

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bluewhale52 · 3 years

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- Love & Zombies -

Aaah I know I’m late to the party but this literally came to me today at work after watching Train to Busan with my hubby yesterday 😅

Summary: you and your boyfriend stay in for Halloween for a movie night, and the movie of choice is Train to Busan! Not only your boyfriend is a scaredy cat, he also asks you a pretty heavy question that may affect your relationship.

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x reader

Genre: fluff, domestic, established relationship au, idol au

Word count: 1600

Warning: none other than it’s heavy with plots and spoilers of the movie Train to Busan! And of course depiction of JHS in the story is pure of my imagination.

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Halloween has always been one of your favorite events in the year. You like cosplaying, making your own costumes and putting on an alter ego even for just a couple of hours. You even came up with this year’s costume right after Halloween last year. You were excited when you found a beautiful red trench coat in a vintage shop just a few days after, complete with the red wide brim hat. Unfortunately because of the pandemic, your Halloween plans are cancelled, and your debut as Carmen San Diego has to wait for another year.

Fortunately, because of the pandemic, your boyfriend’s travel plans abroad are cancelled, and for once he is able to spend Halloween with you. Despite his busy schedule for the upcoming comeback, he has made sure he has 31 October free. You both are pleased to spend the night together at your place, away from the other members, for your Halloween movie night. He even bought matching Snoopy pyjamas- yours has Snoopy and Woodstock jumping out of a pumpkin shouting ‘Boo!’ and his has poor Charlie Brown clutching his heart in shock.

You know your boyfriend is the jumpy type, screaming and squealing at the smallest sound. And he has been very adamant that you will not be watching any horror movies of the supernatural type. So you have chosen Train to Busan and Shaun of the Dead. Although both are zombie movies, there aren’t many jump scare scenes and the gore level is pretty tame. You are quite sure your boyfriend won’t be hanging on to you for dear life throughout the night.

Hoseok settles on the sofa with a big bowl of popcorn on his lap as you start the first movie, Train to Busan. He claimed he has seen it before, albeit he covered his eyes 99% of the time.

He is still quite relaxed over the opening scene, until the dead deer on the road came back to life. He sits closer to you, pressing his side tightly against yours.

“Hobi-ah, it’s not even 5 minutes into the movie!” You tease him.

“The deer, YN, it’s a zombie deer!” You chuckle and pat his head. He laughs and tries to relax, but you feel your body starts leaning to one side with Hoseok pressing so much onto your other side.

Hoseok makes some comments as the movie unfolds- how cute the little girl playing the daughter is, how good looking Gong Yoo is in his suit- and you know it is just his way to calm and distract himself over what is to come. He hides behind your back when the injured young woman gets into the train and squeals when the little girl saw a person getting jumped by a zombie at the train platform.

Everything goes downhill from there. He keeps telling the characters to run, to hide, to fight the zombies, all the while with a deathly grip on your hand. You even had to save the bowl of popcorn from falling off his lap because he is moving too much, agitated.

“It’s ok Hoseokie, I will protect you,” you coo at him.

“Ah, YN, I should be the one protecting you but I don’t think I’ll be able to do anything.” He laughs nervously.

“No babe, we’ll work together, right. I’d arm myself with a baseball bat to smash the zombies’ heads.” You tilt your head. “You know, I don’t understand why they don’t just aim at their knees. Break their knees, they wont be able to chase after you.” You wonder out loud.

“Wah YN, you’re really thinking seriously about this.” Hoseok is practically sitting behind you know. His hands are on your shoulders, massaging them gently except for the few times when the zombies get too close to the characters and he squeezes your shoulders hard. Super hard.

“Of course, in an apocalypse we must think critically to survive. I’d kill the zombies, you can be in charge of food. Rationing, cooking. You’re much better at planning than I am. And when I’m tired of killing zombies, you can give me shoulder massages.”

Hoseok chuckles at that, and kisses the back of your head.

You both continue the movie, Hoseok now sitting behind you and you between his legs. You crack up a few more jokes, pointing out some of the mistakes the characters in the movie commit, and promising your boyfriend all those errors have been etched on your brain to ensure you wouldn’t do the same in a zombie apocalypse. Hoseok is more relaxed now, laughing and teasing at how serious you are planning your and his survival.

Until you come to the scene where the selfish executive pushes the high school girl to the zombies to save himself.

“Poor Wooshik,” Hoseok says, “he has to see his girlfriend turn into a zombie!”

  You scoff at the scene, especially at the part where Wooshik’s character is cradling his girlfriend and apologising to her. “It’s stupid,” you comment, “he’s gonna die soon.”

And sure enough, once the girl has stopped convulsing and truly turned into a zombie, she bites her boyfriend.

  “See!” you shout. “He’s so stupid, he’s survived all this while only to die because he can’t leave his girlfriend!”

Hoseok pulls your body aside, half turning it so you can face him.

“Babe, if I got bitten by a zombie, you’d stay with me, right?” He asks, eyes serious and voice earnestly worried.

“Of course not! You’ve been bitten!” You answer, perhaps too quickly.

“So, you’d leave me behind?” His voice is rising, full of disappointment and hurt.

“Well, do you want me to die with you or to continue surviving?”

Hoseok looks puzzled at your question, and unable to answer.

“I mean, if I can put you in a place where you’d be confined after you become a zombie, yeah I’d stay with you,” you think out loud, “but say in that same situation like in the movie, where you’d easily jump me and eat my brains, I’d probably kiss you goodbye right after you get bitten then I’d run to save my ass.”

“I am seriously hurt, YN. I can’t believe you’d leave me.” Hoseok pouts.

“Well if I don’t leave, YOU would kill me! Is that any better?” You counter.

He huffs and you both continue watching the movie in silence. You find it funny that Hoseok would take it so seriously and you want to laugh at the silliness of it. But you also know you need to do some damage control to cheer up your sunshine.

“Hobi, in an apocalypse, we have to think logically and critically. We can’t let emotions make decisions for our survival.” You turn slightly so you can drape an arm around your boyfriend. Your position has shift so now you’re sitting sideways in his lap, and you kiss his cheek tenderly.

“I love you, and I’d never ever leave you, you know that. And even if I had to, because you’re turning into a zombie, I’d be crying and crying over losing you for days, months, and even years. I won’t stop thinking of you. And I’d be blaming myself for failing to protect you. And I give you permission to haunt me to my dying days as my penance.”

You turn his head to face you, and you kiss him softly on his lips. “I love you, Jung Hoseok.”

“I love you too, YN,” he replies, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you back sweetly.

Then he suddenly lets go of you, and you stumble back on the sofa. “Oh my god YN! Gong Yoo! That evil executive bit him!”

Hoseok is practically fuming, “Ah, that selfish man, I hate him! Why does he have to bite Gong Yoo? That poor girl, she now has to see her father turn into a zombie!”

You right yourself up, staring at your boyfriend in amusement. “Aish YN, I can’t believe Gong Yoo is turning into a zombie.” Hoseok is truly looking very, very affected by the turn of events in the movie. And when Gong Yoo’s character throws himself off to save his daughter, you are pretty sure your boyfriend is in the brink of tears.

Hoseok is now leaning forward, and asking you if the little girl will survive. You feel like telling him that no, the girl will become a zombie too just to tease him. But he is gripping your hand so hard at the ending scene of the movie, shouting at the soldiers not to shoot the girl and the other survivor. And when the girl starts singing while crying, Hoseok is shaking your shoulders while still screaming for the girl to survive and live.

Once the end credits roll, Hoseok plops back on the sofa, breathing heavily in relief. You look at him, and announce, “OK, let’s not watch Train to Busan anymore. This movie does not do you, or us, any good.”

“I agree, YN, it’s just too sad. Too sad!” He laments.

Too sad? You scoff and swat your boyfriend. He reacts in his typical manner- eyes wide and face full of innocence while asking you what he has done to earn a smack on his arm. You jump on him, tickling him and pretending to eat him like a zombie would, and he trashes around, laughing hysterically, trying to escape you.

He finally manages to flip you and pin you down. His laughter dies down to a soft smile, and he leans down to kiss you.

“I love you, my zombie killer. Happy Halloween.”

—

Thank you for reading! 💜

#bts x reader #bts fanfic #jhs x reader #bts x you #bts fluff #bts x y/n #bts fan fiction #jung hoseok #jung hobi #hoseok fanfic #hoseok imagine #jhs fluff #bts imagines

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zuffer-weird-girl · 4 years

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A/n:This has been on my drafts for too long now. Is not one of my best works but is certainly something that I thought a lot when I first read the chapter and comung to understand Pops and Kai relationship as father and son. I hope this not come as petty or ahitty like some works of mine because this one I meant it to be... special.

Allert for murder and suicide mentions

Only by a miracle

"Why if I do even need to ask for? Just bullshit ..." he asked, barely bothering to look in your direction while he watched the news ... at least try to pretend he cared.

After the raid of the hassaikai, the league of villains; especially because of Shigaraki; taking his arms, taking away what little significance was left for the poor man, Chisaki had simply put everything aside ... his interest in things and knowledge, his goal of "cleaning the world", even of at least care about his physical and especially mental state ... the reason why you two are having this conversation right now. The only thing that he seemed to not have lost hope or interested thankfully was you.

"I just thought that maybe it was something to help you ... "you answered quietly, gently approaching and sitting right next to him" a psychologist may be a good idea especially after everything ... happened. That co-worker of mine can help and- "

"With all due respect (Y / n), I'd rather rot in Tartarus than accept someone else's help ... After all," he sighed, an empty, melancholy look in his golden eyes "that's what I deserve . "

"Stop." you immediately spoke right away, eyes burning with the urge to cry at his words. "Please, we already had this conversation ... you don't deserve it." leaning your head on his shoulder you can feel how tense his body was but soon relaxed ... as if he had actually released a weight from his shoulders.

sighing, your boyfriend finally seemed to slowly return to the real world than the torment that had turned his head as he looked at you.

"You're going on yours at least I hope." you nodded, gritted your teeth and widened your eyes when you saw the familiar green hair of the boy responsible for literally almost beating Kai.

You tried to take control before Kai saw it but already feeling his body tensing and the way his shoulders started to shake you already knew that he had already seen the boy.

You barely remedy what you at least think of the boy named Deku ... upset and irritated because he beat your boyfriend along with the other almost hero Lemillion beat his boyfriend or pity and fear if Chisaki happened to find him. As much as he no longer had his arms, he was still strong ... you have already witnessed several tantrums and breakdowns of his in the last few monthswhwre he had torned the small apartment you two lived now down ... his depression and panic attacks and paranoia were horrible .... but with sure what hurt you the most was when he woke up from a nightmare ... feeling a torturous pain in the place where his arms were supposed to be ... but all this was psychological pain. kai knew how much it affected you, and knowing that you were too stubborn to leave him, he insisted that you do therapy instead of him.

"Let's...turn this off." you mumbled before taking the remote and turning off the tv after turning to him and massaging his shoulders until he saw that he had calmed down at least a little.

"You know ... how about you come with me tomorrow?" you commented, happy that you had finally unlocked him a little "The same place where my therapist is where he is hospitalized and-"

"No ... he would be the last person who would at least enjot my presence angel." you frowned, your hope to at least pay a visit to the poor elderly in a coma fails again. You knew the amount of guilt and sorrow Chisaki carried of putting Pops on a coma, but behind that cold facade and th walls he had constructed, you knew better... You knew that he his intentions truly weren't on the bad side, but even you had to agree he had gone way too far on his path.

Sighing, you stood up, making Kai look i to your eyes questionably before you kissed his cheek lovingly mumbling that you were going to make his favorite for the dinner, smiling sadly at how he sighed and leaned on you, mumbling how he didn't deserves you and such things.

You went to the kitchen before jumping at your notification on your cellphone and beaming happilh at your door frame.

"Ne ne! Hon!" You put the box you just had received and openes for him to see, hoping to see him lighten up a bit.

You smiled and almost teared up when he gave one look at the box and let out a weak chuckle, looking at you with adoration.

"Seems like I wont be needing feeding anymore." He commented as you jumped on him to cage his frame on a hug as tears threteaned to spill from your eyes.

That was the first time in months Chisaki had come close to even smilling... things were slowly starting to get better... but yet, you knew it was never going to return back the way it was... and the worst?

You knew that not only you felt something was missing.

The next day you woke up feeling your boyfriend's arms prototics holding you close to your chest, the back of your neck feeling the warmth of his breath while his lips lightly brushed your skin. You mumbled to yourself seeing the schedule and gently raising the fake arms for you to slip past them to get out of the bed. Uou smiled when you saw and heard how Chisaki complained in his sleep at the loss of your warm, getting close to him and giving him a kiss first on his temple then lightly on his lips, stroking his hair for good measure.

Getting ready and leaving a note for Kai to see when he wakes up, you left your apartment for another appointment with your therapist ... after of course going to a flower shop.

"Good luck with your father-in-law, young lady"

"Thank you doctor" you responded by leaving the office and walking through the hospital corridors, avoiding the eyes of doctors and nurses when you passed and went to the room where he was. You entered with the permission of the secretary, your heart and body always seemed to freeze when seeing Pops in the vegetative state, machines saving him from death but not bringing him back from the coma that Kai had put him in.

"Good morning Pops." you whispered, exchanging the dead flowers on the table next to the machines to replace them with the new ones you had bought before your consultation "I came as every time."

Taking a chair and dragging it to the side of the bed you sat down with a sigh before smilling at the sleeping elder.

"... we miss you. All of us, both subordinates and me and ... Kai." you bit your lip before you started saying "I don't know if you can really hear me every time I say this, but I swear to you that Kai just wanted to make you proud... Pops if you knew how much he suffers and regrets doing this to you ... " you wiped the tears from your eyes with the back of your sweater. You looked at the old man's face ... resting on the hospital bed for months now.

"Doctors say that even at your age you are a fighter." you giggled before returning your attention "... I tried to bring him here but he feels so guilty that he has no courage to come face you again .... please if one day you wake up again, forgive him, please... you were the only one he trusted and respected since childhood ... "you sighed before taking the bag and giving the elderly a small and careful hug as he used to do while he was awake" I ask a thousand pardons for him... I’ll be back next week Pops, maybe I can get him to come here next time! " you giggled sadly before frowning. Saying a little goodbye, you went towards the door ... but when you touched the maceneta you froze, hearing the sound of the mattress twinks and the fabric of the sheets moving ... looking slowly over your shoulder you gasped in astonishement and shock, bringing your hands to cover your mouth while your eyes watered when you saw tired gray eyes and the little smirk that the elderly person gave you in your bed even with numerous tubes in it.

"How good it is to see you again my dear. How long have I been away?"

"Sir is truly a miracle that you woke up from this coma honestly." The doctor said in astonishment as you awkwardly finsighed mumbling explaining all what had happened during the elder's absence.

"The shie hassaikai members are ALL on jail?" Pops asked calmly but you cringed hard at seing how wide were his eyes as you nodded.

"We're... trying to pay Chro- I m-mean Kurono! To get out of prison though... is a start." You clenched your jaw as Pops muttered something to God as he burried his face on one of his hands.

"Well." The doctor smiled at you both as she made her exit "You still have to spend one week to check up, but soon you will be able to go away wuth your..?"

"Daughter in law." The elder sighed, finally lifted his head up to show his gratitude to the medic before she left. Looking back at you "How is my granddaughter? Eri? I suppose you didn't know about the plan that boy had on his mind."

"Y-yeah.. She is on the hands of the hero Eraserhead, as far as I know of, the U.A took her custody to help her to control her quirk for real this time." You grabbed his hand and squezzed assuringly "She is on good hands Pops. I promise you."

"For once." He sighed before giving you a smile. Your phone buzzed and you excused yourself to pick it up.

"Hey hon.." you spoke as Pops furrowed hsi eyebrows, mentioning with his hands that he also wanted to hear.

"Where are you? Your apointment should had ended by one half an hour ago?" The nonchantly voice of Chisaki made you worry about how Pops body seemed tense as he montioned for you to jot speak a thing about him.

"U-uh... it got longer?"

"You're shit at lying, you know that right?" Pops smirked while you blushed a bit.

"Sorey sorry.." you rubbed the back of your neck a bit "I-I went to that place where they sell those sweets you like, that's all."

You heard a sigh and frowned at how tired your boyfriend sounded as he spoke on a vulnerable tune you had grew used to on the past few months... but Pops widened his eyes, almost not recognizing the vouce behind that cellphone.

"Just hurry up and get back home... I feel like one of those is about to come again.." he spoke as if that were a burden, you hummed immediately promising him to be home soon before saying how much you lobed him and hanging up.

"One fo those?"

"For these past few months he had gotten depression and some PTSD attacks..."

"Hironic." The eldery sarcastically chuckled with bitter as he leaned up his back on the mattress "He was the one to put my grandauther through hell, put me on a coma, ruin the whole bussines of my family and now, he is the one with depression." You furrowed your eyebrows at that. Taking a breath in, knowing that was something that could happen you talked back.

"I know the things he had done were wrong Pops... but believe me when I say he just wanted to-"

"(Y/n) my dear. As much as I know how generous you are, you can't actually try to be on Chisaki's side this time." He glared at you as you gulped "I lost count on how much I tried talking him out of those absurd ideas of his, but as always a stubborn one, he continued on and left the path I tried to teach him for years."

"Well, with all respect sir, you cant totally blame him if he was raised by a mafia boss no less." You grumbled as the elder narrowed his eyes at you for the first ever time.

"I taught him manners. He was the one who didn't followed them. Preffering to take this dark and horrific path. The yakusa is superior to villains and what he does? Becomes one of them despite fighting others that we are not? Is he bipolar now?!"

"Pops please just listen to me... We both know he suffered before you took him in, he feels in debt with you ever since that day."

"And he retributes me with this. Putting me on a coma."

"Pops I-"

"Stop defending him kid!" He yelled and you flinched away from him in shock "That man put my own grandaughter through hell and used her as some lab rat experiment, and now not only i lost my own daughter but her as well!"

Silence consumed the room... you felt at the verge of crying before taking a huge breath in determination. You wont let him, you wont let the man who created the one you love speak like that without you giving him a reason.

"Kai done these things, thats for sure ... but his whole life he felt trapped by the fact that he never got to repay you. He had absurd ideas for that? Of course, I will not cover up his errors. But I am not going to let even you Pops speak like that. Since you already knew he wasn't listening to you, why didn't you take him away from Shie Hassaikai's work and just put more pressure on him saying that he would, one day, be the new boss? Your sucessor no less?! " he remained his glare to his hospital room window "... he just wanted you to be proud of him .. so he still protects Shie Hassaikai's honor ... Pops do you even know that he lost only his arms still fighting to give you something?!" You cried as the old man opened his eyes wide and finally looked back at you "For the past months he and I have been in our personal hell, he has nightmares every night! Do you even happen to remember that you had to comfort him the first night he slept at your house? imagine the attack only ten times worse! do you even know how it was to see him begging me for me to kill him ?! "you sobbed while the man was still in shock to hear what you said and your state.

"my dear why are you still going through this?" he said almost breathlessly while you wiped your tears, almost leaving the room.

"Because I love your son ... and I know he loves you in his own weird and antisocial way ... Please I know that it is very difficult to forgive him, but I beg Pops ... try it... both of you only have each other now...." you sighed and left the room without even saying goodbye to him or the nurses asking if you were okay.

Two weeks had passed after that. You remained a secret that Pops woke up from his coma to prevent Chisaki to fell on one of those nerve train racking thoughts of his...

"You win this ever time, is not fair." You whined as your boyfriend smiled, replacing the many pieces back on the shoji board back again.

"So why do you even still insist on playing it then with me no less dearest?" He asked, not exactly expecting an answer before he froze at the way you kept looking at him with love.

"Because is your favorite game. And I love seing you happy while playing it." You giggled at the immediate scoff to hide his blush as he closed his eyes, his black mask preventing you to show his smile as he mumbled an affectionate "crazy woman".

You giggled even more at that. Things were surely better than they could have been. Thanks to your teraupist you were also able to help your own boyfriend... his attacks had stopped and you never felt more relieved to see that the bags from beneath his eyes were slowly dissapearing.

"Ugh... im hungry!!!" You whined loudly again, rolling over to lay your head on his lap as he looked down at you with an arched eyebrow.

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"Take out." You proclaimed before he flipped your nose.

"Absolutely not. Is disgusting." He growled as you whined and put your bottom lip out.

"One time it won't hurt! Pleaseeee???? Please my devil??" You smiled mentally at seing the tip of his ears going red "please my handsome cutie softie delicious-" he hushed you with one of his fake finger son your lips as he growled.

"Fine fine, have your way brat. Jesus Christ you're so spoiled." He offered you one of his last used, that the police couldn't track, credit cards as you lowered his mask to kiss him.

"Says who again?" You giggled before sighing in bliss when he brought you close, you stradling his lap as you circled his neck with your arms, contained your noises as he trailed his kisses down to your jaw.

It has been so long since you two had-

You both growled when your cellphone ringed, but Kai still stood on his track as he mumbled in your ear for you to pick up... although he still continued to carres your thighs as he vould feel them again and lay kisses in the crook of your neck.

You widened your eyes though whem you saw that it was from the hospital... you had beem visiting and making conpany to Pops even despjte the argument you had gotten to him, but now it seemed he was free to go... shit. You couldn't hide this anymore from Kai.

Although you gasped back to the current reality when you felt a certain... hardness on his lap.

"If you tell me you have to go Im setting this place on fire." He mumbled in your neck as you whined. That surely must be the worst cockblock you two had in your relationship. You nodded as he growled again, making yourself out of his laps, he let you go hesitantly.

"What is even about this time?" He said nonchantly as he adjusted his hair back.

"I... have to go to the hospital."

"Is that therapist of yours again?" He asked in annoyance as you left in a hurry, crossing his arms and auspecting at your attitudem

"I-It will be quick!"

"You didn't answer my-" and the door closed while he sighed loudly looking up at yhe ceilingx having to deal with the problem you had caused down there "Fucking brat." He growled out loud standing up with a hiss to go to the shower.

The drive back from the hospital was so awkward... the pregnant silence making you go crazy as Pops remained quietly the entire ride.

"I thought a lot about what you said once my dear." You yelped and looked at him in surprise.

"Eh?"

He smiled before looking at you with a serene expression.

"I was never once a good father example for both my actual daughter or Chisaki. Part of me didn't want to believe, but Kai needed more than just my help after I took him in... Guess he took on my stubborness."

"N-no, that was not what I meant-"

"Relax kid... I just recalled what you said back there when you left. There is nothing left for me asides from trying to at least solve things with Chisaki... I cant thank you enough, both of me and him weren't on the right side, so is not on place of me to judge him... specially when I tortured a childhood friend of my once."

... wait whAT-?!

The train stopped and you hesitantly took Pops hand when he offered it to help you stand up.

You two walked before you stopped by the front of your apartment complex as you looked at Pops uncertainly, but he only nodded with a smile.

"Is time for me to speak with him after who knows how long."

You shakily entered your apartment as coincidentally Kai emerged from the tiny hall, drying his hair with a towel, already dressed on his casual clothes as he opened one of his eyes to look at you.

"Better have a good explanation or else punishment is going to be extra harder." He smirked devilish and you would have gotten turn on if it weren't from right after he widened his amber eyes as if he had saw a ghost as Pops entered, crossing his arms as he looked back at Chisaki.

"Hello, Chisaki." He spoke seriously before smilling at how the man he created for years now seemes as a fragile boy who had been caught for doing sonething silly.

You aproached Chisaki slowly before taking his hand, making him look at you to remind him it wasn't one of his paranoia events... Pops was there. Smilling at him.

It was real.

The elder aproached, a small still present on as he looked at Chisaki.

"You seem way better than the last time I saw you. I'm glad to see that."

He couldn't speak, his throat was sore, it hurted too mcuh to even breath near this man again. He knew what had happened, so why on hell was this old geezer smilling at him iut of all people?! He could feel his eyes start to burn as he clenched on your hand before flinching violently when a hand that wasn't yours rested on his shoulder.

"I'm not mad at you. Is all in the past, I know your intentions weren't what happened... and I forgive you, Kai." He pulled Chisaki for a hug and the man himself tensed accidentaly letting go of your hand and lifting his metal arms in the air awkwardly. "But I hope one day you can still forgive me for not being a good father to you... my son."

That was the last straw for the man once called himself the name of his quirk, to break completely. He cried, silently, but the river of tears falling down his eyes was still there as he clenched the back of the man as he trembled... muttering how he hated himself and how much he was ashamed and sorry as Pops also apologized.

You smiled at the scene, trying to left the room but failing when your boyfriend and Pops called you back instantly... these two had still long to talk... but Kai still wanted you there. With him. As he always wanted.

After all, you and Pops were the only concept of family he ever had learned.

#bnha villains #bnha #bnha characters #bnha x reader #bnha imagine #chisaki kai #chisaki kai x reader #overhaul x reader #overhaul #fanfic overhaul #my writings #zuffer writings

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goodgirlsfanficawards · 3 years

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For Week 2 of Fic Back Friday we’ve got five fics from May 2020! Whether you’re rereading or it’s the first time, stop by and show these stories some love.

Like Icarus Who Flies to the Sun by kibasniper

03 May 2020, T, 1.1K, 1/1, 12 kudos

I know the look of suffering. I’ve seen it on every single face of my clients. They’re withered, pale, and have been through shit that I wouldn’t want happening to my daughter.

But they aren’t inscrutable. No, not at all. In fact, most of them are easily understood. A background check later, in which I poured hours into researching, and I know my client’s entire history, along with the path they’ve trekked with the one they want dead. They’re always intertwined, you see. After all, you can’t want somebody killed without a proper reason. They usually share a long-winded, complicated history filled with unspeakable torment and abuse, the finer details bloody and gruesome, and the client will finally reach out to me because they simply have nowhere left to turn, all options exhausted, that little fire of hope ready to burn out.

I don’t consider myself someone’s salvation, of course. That would be comparing me to an angel when I’m merely a professional. When I snuff out someone’s life, it’s clinical and precise, practised and executed all according to the client's will. I need their full permission to fire in order for there to not be any regrets. I don’t need their sorrow weighing me down when it’s time; it might affect my trigger finger.

Your soul is haunting me. by bethrio / @bethrio

5 May 2020, E, 3K, 1/1 chapters, 103 kudos

I’ll take a dip.

She grips the bed sheet even harder, her whole body shaking as she gets closer to the edge.

Wanna join me?

Yes, Beth minds screams, yes! She lets go of the bed sheet and grabs one of her breasts as the other hand works the vibrator against her cunt. She imagines the way he looks at them, at her, and the image of them fucking in a hot tub.

She comes hard, shaking for too long afterwards, feels the ache that had built up for some time disappear.

Only, then the guilt comes in full speed. Beth hasn’t felt guilty about masturbating in over 20 years when she learnt it’s okay for women to do it, but she knows this isn’t what that is. She wishes it were that that she felt guilty about, would welcome back that guilt any day.

No, she knows it’s because of him. She shot him, stole from him, is still waiting for the hitman to kill him and yet he’s the only one who can– who’s in her thoughts– when she does this.

Cupcake by Melaniemia

28 May 2020, T, 1.6K, 196 kudos

“What happened, Elizabeth?” he breathed, pulled her hands so she was forced to walk around the counter to stand in front of him. He reached up and pushed a long red curl away from her eyes.

“I hate when you do that.” she muttered, closing her eyes briefly at the contact and further avoiding the question.

“Wont happen again.” he promised, stepping back from her and sitting in the chair she had occupied moments earlier.

“You hold a gun to my head, you threaten the lives of people I love, and then you turn around and make me think you might actually care about me.” the weight of the day was pressing down on her and the adrenaline was fading away, leaving her emotional and hurt.

“No rule that says you can't threaten to kill a woman and not still care a little about her.” Rio shrugged, a smirk gracing her features.

will we think about tomorrow like we think about now by fortunehasgivenup

26 May 2020, T, 5.9K, 1/1 chapter, 243 kudos

Oh god, he’s making a show of it. This wasn’t part of the - okay, it was, but still! Beth imagines that she could fry an egg on her cheeks as Rio walks with her up the stairs slowly, saying hi to some people that he knows.

Finally, he lets her take a seat, but rather than taking the open spot next to her, he climbs up to the next level of seats and sits behind her, his feet on the bleachers on either side of her hips, and leans forward.

“You cold?” he asks, arm settling on her shoulder so that his hand is dangling down over her chest.

“I’m good,” Beth gets out.

Beth hadn’t given much thought to how…intimate this position would feel after a few minutes. She can feel it every time that Rio shifts as they chat about nothing.

She realizes when Tasha must come into view because Rio slides forward so she’s almost pressed against his groin. “Lean back,” he murmurs, so she does. Except she’s not sure what to do with her hands now. Like he can hear her thoughts, Rio reaches down and takes both of her hands in his.

Bad Moon Rising by jesbakescookies / @jesbakescookies

11 May 2020, M, 26K, 4/4 chapters, 355 kudos

Beth laid in bed, as her phone played what had become her death march. The flashes of Rio’s shocked expression as she pulled the trigger kept replaying. The piercing sound that followed still rang in her ear. Slowly Beth raised her hand to her temple, her fingers trembling as she searched the silky smooth skin for injury. There was no sign of the attempt she’d made on her own life.

Beth just couldn’t take it any longer. It seemed as though she would never escape the torture of reliving the worst day of her life. She’d tried everything. The utter despair of realizing that no matter what she did, she’d always wake up to see the same day was too much.

All of those thoughts and feelings bubbled up when Rio snapped at her, pushing her to kill the man bound at their feet.

Beth hadn’t even realize the gun was pressed against her temple until she looked up at Rio’s expression.

She almost couldn’t believe she’d done it, but she most definitely wasn’t surprised that she woke up to the same old song. Her heart felt both heavy and vacant. A cold numbness snuffing out everything inside her like water over flame.

If you know of anyone’s tumblr/twitter and we haven’t found it or tagged incorrectly, please send us an ask to let us know.

#good girls nbc #nbc good girls #beth x rio #brio fanfiction #brio fanfic #good girls fanfiction #good girls fanfic #fic back friday

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vex-bittys · 4 years

Note

Hello! I read one of your dribbles(the one with the chain, chubby coral, qnd honey bo)and idk if this is a little weird or if you've been asked this before. But I was wondering if I could adopt them??? I'm 5'5 23 year old agender human with a love for music, singing, baking, and spending time hanging out with friends! I also make/sell art for a living. I can give them their own area that I wont touch or go near without permission and all the snacks, attention, and love they could possibly want!

(Of course you may adopt them!)

*The Honey Bo and Chain have just breathed out sigh of relief after seeing their beloved Coral bondmate eat the meatballs and the Goldfish crackers. His weight had never been an issue to them until he started losing it so rapidly. They would never agree to be adopted by someone who made their Coral bondmate feel badly about himself.

*Vex greets you at the door and you ask her about the Coral and his bondmates. She’d called you about them, asking if you’d be willing to adopt them so that the Coral could be in a more nurturing environment. She leads you over to them, and you see the three of them holding each other tightly, the two Papyrus-type lamias rubbing the Coral’s back and showering him with praise. You feel a little tug in your SOUL... is that... the Chain?

*The Chain looks up in surprise. His chest is glowing, and it’s clear from the look on his face that he wants to focus on it... but he slithers in front of the Coral protectively. You quickly reassure him that you’re here for all three of them. You don’t want to separate them, and you’ll take them just as they are or as they want to be. The Chain’s expression softens. You go on to tell them that there will be an abundance of love, affection, and snacks with absolutely no judgments attached.

*The Coral glances up you with hopeful eyes. He’s been nervous about his appearance for awhile now, but your words make him hopeful that he can find a home where he can be happy with himself no matter how he looks. The Honey Bo watches the other two, clearly thinking that your home is perfect for them, but you want him to feel welcome too.

(Artwork by redkammy)

*You tell them that they can have a nice private nesting area where they won’t be bothered. You explain that you create art for a living and tell him about your love of music, singing, and baking. No Honey Bo can resist an adopter who sings, bakes, and respects his need for privacy! The three lamias turn to each other to confer, but it’s clear from their wide smiles and nods that they accept your offer of adoption.

#vexy answers #lettucepoisoning #lamia bitty adoption #coral bitty #honey bo bitty #chain bitty #drabble response

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nrth-wind-a · 3 years

Text

I’d Already Know // Skraelroc Fluff Fic // 1,281 Words

Skrael has never had much trouble finding the correct word for something he wants to say; if he must decide in the moment, he will simply pause, evaluate, and carry on as if the hesitation had not occurred at all. It is not that he is embarrassed by the pause, of course; it’s just that it doesn’t need to be acknowledged.

Few things, in Skrael’s opinion, absolutely must be acknowledged, unless it has some sense of value to him. Of course, this isn’t to say that he is a stranger to meaningless conversation— when one lives for as long as he and the Order have, one learns to find entertainment in many things, including words for the sake of words. Talking for the purpose of company, for the purpose of doing something together.

For example, Nari and he have engaged in frequent, pointless debates about topics like the dinosaurs, shadow mephit breeding, and would it be so bad if we created an eighth continent, just to see what would happen? They could go back and forth for hours, merely passing time, ruffling each other’s feathers, knocking shoulders against each other as they grow increasingly animated in their talks.

It is said that the average human will speak over eight hundred billion words in their lifetime. Considering the thousands of years that Skrael has been around, he is willing to guess that his number of words spoken dwarfs that of a human with a mere one-hundred year lifespan.

However, were he to compare declarations of verbal affection, he’d likely find himself swallowed whole by the humans’ count. They are so expressive, so quick to spout words of love; so quick to wish desperately that they’d hear them in return. He cannot hope to compete with that. He hoards his affection close to his heart, imprisons it from the light of day. A softer soul had only ever gotten him into trouble, had only ever laid him bare to the harm that came naturally to two living souls interacting with one another. It was a byproduct, the consequence of allowing someone into one’s life, he knew. But he’d never been too keen on paying that toll. Some conclusions simply were not worth it to him.

Yet, traitorous his mind is.

Sitting in the dark, knees pulled to his chest, on a window sill overlooking the clouds below, he considers words, and their meanings. He turns them over in his mind, asks what he would do without them. They cloud his mind, sometimes, or make it clear. They wound him as they lift him. They are spoken so carefully, but grate against the back of his teeth as he struggles to hold them back. He is not impulsive, and will never be. He cannot be. Not the way that Bellroc can.

Bellroc, whom he should not think about when he feels this way, when he considers these grand topics. They will become something grander if he allows himself indulgence like this.

Yet, unlike words, thoughts are difficult to temper. They do not go quietly, nor gently, into that good night; the night which occurs every few weeks, when he cannot stop his selfishness from unfurling itself before him, under the contemplative stars.

Oh, the things he’d say to them were he a braver soul.

Oh, the things he’d do, or perhaps, already does, should words fail him, as they are wont to do, sometimes.

See, words cannot fully express the extent of what he feels on these nights, nor what he wishes for.

It is all he can do, most times, to simply hang onto the driftwood his mind supplies him, as the wave of emotion crashes, white-capped and merciless.

His head thunks against the side of the window in which he perches.

It is three measly words that have done this to him. Three measly words which spear his gut, which sit behind his eyelids, inside his molars, which fight against the barricade he’s made for them.

Three measly words he wants say, but cannot. For his sake, perhaps, or the mission’s. They do not have time for dalliances of the heart. They do not have time for him to waste on matters of linguistics. They have a duty to perform, a balance to uphold, and nothing, nothing, is more important than that.

What a lie that is, Skrael’s mind supplies.

Silence. His amygdala fires back.

It is by the time his own personal siege begins in his brain that Skrael admits the night is lost. He cannot work like this. He cannot search for Nari like this. Not with his mind so desperately scraping at the bricks he’d laid down to trap words that he should not utter, not if he wants to survive.

Not if he wants his ribcage to quit aching.

But when ice gets cold, truly cold, it becomes brittle. Easy to pick at, easy to shatter. He should have considered this when he created the boundaries of his heart; of course his barriers are ice— he knows nothing else.

Except flame, perhaps. Flame, the only thing that can help him, now. The only thing that he’s ever known that could feel so gentle and winsome, and so, utterly, abjectly, engulfing, overpowering, and impossibly intense, all at the same time.

A hand skims past his, and drops onto his shoulder.

His eyes meet ones of embers and burning coals, scorching completely whatever thought he’d had in his mind, then.

They do not speak. His eyes flick to their warm hand, and then back to their warmer eyes. He tastes cinnamon in his throat, and breathes in the smell of firewood.

Bellroc lowers, joining him on the sill, and— oh, they are close now. His eyes are wide, and he is stricken speechless, as they cross their arms over their chest and pin him in place with their gaze.

He searches desperately for words, trying, and trying, but he cannot find them among the shards of ice scattered around his brain, and in his chest, in his lungs.

He must look frightened, he thinks, because concern has overtaken searching eyes, as they ponder the nature of his panic.

And then something cuts through it.

Fingertips, brushing across the back of his hand, which had gripped the windowsill without his conscious decision. A puff of air is punched from his lungs, and when it leaves him, their contrasting climates cause it to come out as ice and steam. Skrael’s eyes follow it for a moment, stalling, as he knows that he is being asked permission, but he is not sure what to choose.

He evidently takes too long to answer, however, as the feather-light touch begins to retreat, and— oh, there is his decision made—

He flips his hand over, and takes theirs between curled fingers and his thumb, which, absently, rubs over their knuckles. The two of them freeze for a moment, hands encapsulated in something which they do not identify, something which putting a name to would surely crush them under its weight.

Then, in a moment of unspoken unity, cold and hot weave together, ten fingers interlocking between the two of them.

The fortress is silent, but the air seems to buzz.

More than words Is all you have to do to make it real Then you wouldn't have to say that you love me 'Cause I'd already know

A heated head finds a cold shoulder to rest upon; cold, but not closed off.

A free, freezing hand winds its way up and curls into his companion’s hair, stroking ever-so-gently.

Not a single word is spoken; it is not necessary.

For once, Skrael appreciates a thoughtless night.

#:)#// am i losing it over two fictional eldritch beings? yes #// is this par for the course by now? yes #// do they still get me evERY TIME?#// [sobbing]#// anyway have soME FLUFF #fic #not rp #toa wizards #skraelroc #skrael toa #bellroc toa #the arcane order #okay to rb #i hold with those who favor fire: skraelroc au

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hiro-gari · 3 years

Text

Batarou Headcanon - a Stuffed Wolf and an Old Photobook by: Little1993lamb to: Lilia / @hiro-gari

Word count: 2298 Warning: Some kissing scenes and a mention of making out, but nothing explicit.

Hello again! I’m back with more small Batarou headcanon~ 😁✨

This time I decided to write little fluffy hc for both of them, because lately I feel down more often than usual and thinking maybe some comfort writing about these secretly softie boyfriends will help 😅💦

Hope you enjoyed my little headcanon! 😉💕

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One day when Badd was cleaning Garou’s stuff boxes in attic room that he brought after the former fugitive moved into Badd’s house, he found an old mini album contained Garou’s childhood photos along with a small fluffy stuffed white wolf doll.

It was a big old fashioned photoalbum book, already became dusty from being in the storage box for a long time.

Then Badd inspected the fluffy stuffed wolf, it was still in pretty good condition as it seems someone cared enough to keep the doll from any damage. Clearly a precious gift from an important person of Garou.

When he looked it closer, the stuffed wolf is kinda adorable, too. The white fur was very fluffy, if it washed properly probably would be fluffier than its current condition. This stuffed wolf even has tiny golden beady eyes and that “ :3 ” smile on its muzzle.

‘Just like the owner of the doll’, Badd chuckled lightly by the thought. He was amused about this fact. Maybe after the entire attic cleaning has finished, he would do some quick laundry to clean up the stuffed wolf before giving it back to his handsome boyfriend.

Putting the cute stuffed wolf doll aside, Badd opened the dusty photo album.

On inside, page by page, he found alot of tiny Garou pictures, from the time he was a little baby in his mom’s craddle, his toddler days with both of his parents, until the beginning of his elementary school years. The photos were put in right order so Badd could recognized the progress of Garou’s growing up stage in a couple of years.

He didn’t know that Garou used to be a sweet looking kid, very different from what he’s like in present time. Nothing like a naughty brat or delinquent boy like Badd has imagined before, nothing at all. By seeing these picture, he figured out that Garou was a normal child, with a little bit of timid nature. So different with what Garou was currently: the confident extra dramatic feral wolfboy.

And Badd noticed the photo collections amount were diminished after Garou entered elementary school, and had completely stopped once Garou graduated the elementary school. He wondered what happened to Garou during that time.

Still curious, Badd cleaned up the dusty photoalbum and then carried it with him so he could show the album to his boyfriend. Not forgetting to also bringing the stuffed wolf doll in, he put it on the laundy as he would clean it later. After that, Badd went on searching his missing boyfriend.

He found Garou lazily lounging on top of the couch with Tama in the living room, casually watching tv while drinking cola. Once Garou noticed Badd’s presence, his eyes twinkled and he grinned widely. He patted the seat beside him so the young hero would sit together with him.

Badd approached Garou, accepting his invitation to sit beside him. He was coming into welcoming arms of his boyfriend and then leaned his head on the wolfboy’s chest, enjoying the warmth of his embrace. Before Garou shifted his attention back to the tv show, he saw Badd still craddling a big old photoalbum that seemed very familiar to him. He asked Badd where did he find that thing.

Badd carefully answered that he just cleaned the attic along with Garou’s old stuff, then he accidentally stumbled into his childhood memento. He had seen the photoalbum contents and wanted to give it back to Garou, probably they can salvaged the old photos and placed them into their newer photobook along with Badd’s own childhood photos.

Garou seems agreed with Badd’s suggestion, he let him do what he wanted. But Badd still curious about one thing: it’s about Garou’s past. From what Badd knows, ever since Garou moved in, he hasn’t tell Badd about his past before the hero hunting days. Wanna asked about the matters, but he afraid Garou still not ready to be more open with him.

That’s why Badd wont ask Garou something he wasn’t comfortable enough to tell.

Garou was contemplating himself, should he tell about his horrible past to Badd or not? But Garou knows Badd wont judged him no matter what happen, hopefully Badd would also understand him. Besides, they’re already giving mutual trust for each other even before they started dating. It made Garou feels very grateful to be together with Badd.

Prepared to spill the truth behind his past, Garou took a deep breath then gazed tenderly at Badd’s face for a moment, before proceeding to tell his childhood experiences.

After Garou telling Badd all of what happened to him that made him changed, Badd said, “You should look at my childhood photos, I was more like a punk kid than I am now. Besides, we could have been bestfriends, maybe with that I could protected you from any mean kids and scared them away from you”, while holding Garou in a comforting hug. In which Garou reciprocated in by enveloping the smaller body into his arms, hiding his face on Badd’s neck.

Badd continued, “I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there for you back then, if I could turned back the time I would absolutely become your friend. So you wont be alone”, he tightened his hold onto Garou’s back. “But now you have me, we could make many happy or silly memories together as much as possible from this day on”.

Badd finished it with a gentle ruffle on Garou’s fluffy spiky hair, then kissed his cheek softly for a brief second while still holding Garou tightly.

Garou was a bit teary during listening to Badd’s heartwarming speech. He didn’t expect that one day he would be receiving those genuine reassurement words, something he desperately yearned back then years ago when he was a lonely bullied kid.

Garou wished that he could meet Badd much earlier in his life, and wished that their actual meeting between them wouldn’t be in a silly fight which was almost resulted in life-or-death situation. But of course both of them couldn’t rewind the time to make it happened.

Badd was right, the least they could do is to create many memories together and live their life the best, enjoyed it to the fullest. Maybe it wont be perfect, but as long as they’re happy then it’s alright.

Only the cheery voices from tv show and purring sounds of Tama were heard in the background. All was forgotten at the time Garou and Badd giving deep loving affections for eachother in a tight, warm embrace.

Drowned by the comfortable and relieved feeling of having someone who cares about the other dearly, everything else was just unimportant white noises for them both.

At some point Garou also shared some sweet and soft kisses for his beautiful kindhearted lover, to show how much he feels grateful to be with Badd right now, tomorrow, and for years later. For forever, as long as he still breathing.

And in return, Badd also giving the same amount of affectionate gestures for his beloved purehearted lover, by planted deep passionate kisses on his lips, whispered sweet nothings which also reassuring love vow into Garou’s ear.

This time Garou deserved to be pampered as Badd will gives permission for his boyfriend to do anything he likes, while Badd still showered him with love he has for Garou. Maybe tonight would be an interesting romantic night, considering Zenko was currently having sleepover in her bestfriend’s house so Badd could have private night with Garou.

But for now, Badd let Garou holds him in his arms, enjoying their sweet intimate moment. Purring softly in content on Garou’s chest mimicking what Tama usually does, Badd closed his sleepy eyes.

Taking a little nap together on lazy Sunday afternoon sounds not bad..

——————————

The next day after Badd coming home from Hero Association’s boring monthly meeting, Garou and him, with a generous help from Zenko, rearranging their childhood photos and placed them in a newer family photobook. They cleaned up the photo papers to make sure they wont get damaged by the dust or moths before putting them inside the new album.

Some of good pictures of Garou’s and Badd’s childhood years were being made into small collages and framed onto their bedroom’s wall. Made it seems believable, like they were actual childhood bestfriends who spent their life together since beginning. Decorated beautifully by Zenko, of course, because these two hopeless boys don’t have good aesthetic sense.

Badd promised Garou and Zenko that they will takes photos of any of their good events from now on, then collected them to save in their family photobooks. So they will have their happy moments documented throughout the time.

About the stuffed doll, Badd also digging up his own storage box and found his old handmade kitty plushy doll. It was his late mom’s handmade doll as Badd’s 5th birthday present. After he washed up the two stuffed animals, Badd placed them on top of their bed.

The adorable stuffed white wolf and the cute tuxedo kitten plushy doll, standing side-by-side together neatly on top of Garou’s and Badd’s pillows. They looked exactly just like their owners, and they’re also together now.

Badd felt so proud of his works, both for the framed photos on the wall (mostly he credited the design to his amazing lil sis!) and the decoration dolls on their bed. Garou was chuckling when he saw Badd like that, glad that his hero boyfriend had done all of it just to make Garou happy.

Garou went to hug Badd from behind, entrapped the smaller man inside loving embrace, in which Badd responded with approved humm as he leaned back into Garou’s warmth. Happy that Garou appreciated his effort.

Then Garou put his chin on Badd’s shoulder and snuggling him, while sneakily saying “Thank you, babe~” so softly into his ear. Complete with (un)necessary biting on Badd’s earlobe that made the young hero blushing brightly and elbowed the laughing wolfboy on his sternum.

The friendly bickering and light manhandling between them quickly turned into a brief steamy making out session on the bed. They were ready to escalate it further more, before repeated hard knocking from outside the bedroom door by Zenko stopped them in track, calling both of them to prepare the dinner meal.

With a teasing smile, Badd told Garou that they should continue it later after they all have dinner together. He gave a soft peck on his boyfriend’s lips, then he immediately got up to answer Zenko’s call. If Garou were really a wolf, he absolutely would joyfully wagging his fluffy tail at the moment while following Badd along towards the kitchen like a lovestrucked puppy.

Meal preparing and their family dinner went normal as usual, but Badd could feel a pair of bright golden eyes always gazing at him with much tenderness whenever Garou thought Badd didn’t noticed him doing that. He just replied it with a soft smile towards his lover.

——————————

Later at night, when both of them were ready to sleep, Badd saw Garou reaching for the stuffed white wolf and craddled it on his chest. He closed his eyes while caressing the doll with gentleness, like it was a precious rare treasure. Badd thought for a moment, Garou looked like a small innocent child like that.

Badd understand what Garou just did, it was because the doll was the last thing he got from his late mother, a present that was given for kid Garou before her death. He clearly missed his mom but haven’t got a time to reminisce the memories of her, at least until now.

Same as him, Badd himself also not too much showing his emotional burden and weakness to people after the death of his parents. Even to Zenko, because he must be strong brother for her despite he was also hurting inside, but haven’t found someone who was willing to lend their shoulder for Badd to lean on, to seek comfort at, and to help him released his bottled up emotions.

But then Garou comes into his life, slowly giving his trust and warmed up to him. Eventually he was offering Badd a chance to opened up his hidden burden as a hero and as a person, despite Garou himself still keeping his hurtful memories.

That’s why Badd also wanted to return his favor by giving him lots of happiness that Garou. That eventhough he has awful past, he still deserved to received more joyful things in his life. And Badd was more than happy to do all of it, anything to make Garou smiling genuinely more often.

Felt the sleepiness has been catching on him, Badd also grabbing his own kitten plushy doll and hugging it dearly on his chest. It’s been so long not to sleep with the doll, especially after the tragic day because it would hurt him.

Now that Badd has already found his own happiness, he could thinking his memories of his mother calmly. Not the painful one anymore but the blissful one. He still missed his father and mother so bad, of course. But he hoped their parents already in peace together in heaven. Maybe they were watching him from above there now?

Bringing the cozy blanket with him, Badd shifted closer towards Garou so his lover would cuddle him. By the instinct, the sleepy Garou put his arm around Badd and pulling him more closer until Badd could rest his head near Garou’s chest. Purring contently, Badd snuggled against the hard pecs, feeling safe and comfort already.

Both of them have a good sleep and nice dream that night in eachother’s arms. The stuffed white wolf and tuxedo kitten plushy could be found between their sleeping figures..

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🐺 THE END 🐱

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Notes:

Honestly I feel this very cheesy but I couldn’t help it, forgive me for the OOC-ness I’m so sorry! 😅💦

Also Lilia, if you noticed, this headcanon was actually based on your Garou headcanon and our small convos about it here: •https://hiro-gari.tumblr.com/post/636445859688677376/what-if-garou-has-a-box-of-his-old-stuff-still •https://hiro-gari.tumblr.com/post/636531124727889920/what-if-after-garou-was-gone-from-bangs-dojo-and •https://hiro-gari.tumblr.com/post/636579523086958592/little-garou-with-a-stuffed-wolf-thats-so

Because I like the imagery, I tried to make a little writing from our shared headcanons. Hopefully you don’t mind it 😆💕

And I also combined those ideas with my older headcanon which I sent for @the-goddessfighter last year in here (please check out her amazing illustration for it, it’s lovely! 💖): https://the-goddessfighter.tumblr.com/post/629479209492987904/part-1-badd-was-cleaning-off-his-attic-when-he

So how was it, do you like this headcanon? 👀✨

Before I ended this note, I wanted to say sorry if my writing seems boring or uninovated, because I only rewrite/recycled the old hcs without being able to write newly fresh ones 😢😞 Or that I always writing Batarou waaaah I’m so sorry that I’ve been clogging your Garou simp blog with my submissions, I must apologize to your followers, too, forgive me– *bowing profusely* 😭🙏💦

Nowadays I’ve been slowly losing my confidence to write, because I don’t know if my works is good enough or not. Maybe I’m not good enough, but I’m very grateful for anyone who still willing to read these messy writings of mine. Thank you guys, your supports are encouraging me to keep going! I will try my best :“”)

Like usual, many thanks always being given for: @hiro-gari, @the-goddessfighter, @kaincuro, @guby1620, @garous-nipple, @jusqu-une-etudiante, and @lovelybutnot-ablankcanvas, and of course all of Batarou shippers in the fandom! Thank you, I love you all~ 😭💕💖

Hope you guys have many great days, thank you~ 😚😘❤💜💙💖💝🌸🌻💐

-Little1993lamb-

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~Lilia:

aaahhH OMG our little wolf convo ;~; I’m so honored it could help inspire this beautifully nostalgic and emotional headcanon the “if I could turned back the time I would absolutely become your friend” really hit me like a bus I’ve got real tears in my eyes

It makes me so happy to imagine them having each other now, a steady support to lean on in their chaotic lives, and finally putting all those bitter memories to rest ♡

#LISTEN #I am ALWAYS honored to receive these from you!!#it’s a garou simp blog and badd’s invited too #everyone simp garou!!!#maybe it doesn’t make sense but garou being happy is my real kink 😅#anyways thank you soso much for sending me this I love it!!!#you and the batarou shippers on here bring me so much joy :')#ilysm #submission #anon #batarou #garou #metal bat

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xoceanicgemzx · 4 years

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Alastor headcanons

for: @varian-love-and-other-stuff

Pronouns: they/them

When Alastor first realizes hes in love hes so shocked like: him? The radio demon? In love?

Asexual™ mess.

He's low-key worried they wont like him back.

Until he asks, when he actually asks, he makes it seem like it's a normal day.

I mean no one noticed he was in love right?

So when he actually asked, he took them on an errand,

They looked away for one second and all of a sudden their is a tall demon behind them confessing to them:

“(Y/N) i like you a lot- and i wanted to start courting you- you accept? ”

Hand kisses after

Of course, (y/n) said yes. And boy is he happy!

He acts like the same ole alastor, except he links his arms with them. It reminds him of his time

Date head canons:

Dancing. He takes them dancing, no chance he isn't

You don't know how to dance? He will teach you.

Singing to you old times he use to know.

Lots of cooking of recipes his mom use to make him.

The moment you start singing, he's broadcasting that all over the pentagram. Doesn't care what you have to say in the matter.

You are his and he will broadcast that.

Taking you on killing sprees with him if you don't mind gore.

Hamd kisses, letting you play with his hair behund doors

Please touch his hair! He absolutely loves it, and mayeb eventually he'll let you touch his fluffy ears. He would love for his ears ti be touched if he was with someone for long enough

Just don't touch them without his consent of this bipolar boy will snap.

Like n o do not touch them without my permission

Affections

Hand kisses

Being called darling

He will walk around town with his arm linked in yours. It reminds him off his time.

At home y'all dance around a room.

Him cooking for you the recipes his mother taught him.

Public Opinion?

The public knows you are off limits.

(Y/N) is off limits they are the radio demons s/o

Their at those few who want to hurt you as revenge against Alastor but the moment they touch you, he goes balastic

Especially if they hurt you. He does not want thst to ever happen again.

He broadcasts him showing what happens to people who touch his (s/o) all over the pentagram. Not pretty lots of blood.

That's all for this one~ I think i might continue these in another post :p I love how they turned out!

#alastor x reader #alastor #fluff #headcanon #oceanwrites

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yeoldontknow · 5 years

Text

Balls Deep | M+

Author’s Note: this work is entirely an act of fiction. if features subjects which may be triggering or uncomfortable to read, including but not limited to non-traditional and indecent sexual acts. i do not advocate or condone the use of this location for this purpose. please take the warnings seriously before continuing. | chanyeol’s pseudonym comes from Darcy Argue, a jazz composer/conductor Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader (oc; female) Genre: smut; public sex; alternate universe; married partnership; romance Summary: While taking your class to lunch during a field trip, your husband suggests an indecent and amoral misuse of the McDonald’s playplace. Rating: NC-17 Warnings: explicit sex; public sex; indecent use of a playplace; graphic sexual acts within a playplace; explicit language; dominating themes; light gagging; spanking; fingering (female receiving); unprotected sex; mentions of cumplay; dirty talk; creampie **please take these warnings seriously and do not read if you are uncomfortable Word Count: 10K

Standing to the side of the eating area in Chicago’s largest McDonald’s, you cautiously eye the group of twenty first graders charged under your wing. They’ve scattered, as children are wont to do, spread throughout the restaurant floor, some eating, some chattering, and many playing. Looking at your watch, you see there’s still thirty minutes left to the scheduled lunch time, and let your gaze shift to the bus driver who eats alone, headphones tucked into her ears, enjoying her brief moment of peace.

This is not the first field trip you’ve chaperoned, however it is the first you’ve managed on your own, an undercurrent of pride making your chest swell. And it is this, perhaps, that exacerbates your anxiety considering there is something terribly, terribly wrong with this journey.

A hand slips beneath the waistband of your trousers, cupping your ass with strong, confident fingers, arm discreetly hidden under your coat and ensuring no one can see. The hand in question belongs to the only person allowed to challenge you like this, in public, at work; your husband, the man who understands you are always wanting him - especially when confronted with risk, and especially when you absolutely should not be wanting him at all.

The hand, to be frank, doesn’t even belong on the field trip. And so, this hand is a problem.

‘I can’t believe you’re here,’ you mutter through pursed lips. ‘I could get in so much trouble for this.’ Keeping a smile plastered to your face for the sake of the children, your eyes glaze slightly as you peer across the room, looking without seeing, putting in effort to avoid looking at the exquisite body attached to the hand., even though your vision craves to be flooded with nothing but him.

‘You know deep down you’re ecstatic I’m here,’ Chanyeol singsongs sweetly, casting a coy glance at your profile.

In your peripheral, you watch him smile, wide and long and so breathtakingly charming, and feel yourself blush, cheeks flooding with warmth. You hate that he controls the blood beneath your skin, even after all this time, and even from the moment you first saw him.

‘Yes, of course I’m happy,’ you sigh, turning to meet Chanyeol’s heated stare. ‘It’s just that you actually don’t have permission to be here and, oh hey, your hand is down my pants. And while I do want this, -’ Chanyeol squeezes the plump flesh of your ass cheek, smirking as you fall slightly forward, eyes fluttering with a quiet inhale.

Regaining your composure, you blink. ‘I’m not sure my students want to see the more private side of their teacher’s life.’

Momentarily believing you won the argument, you let yourself drown in Chanyeol’s eyes, luxuriating in the affection and adoration you find. Even behind his play, there’s an air of gentleness, one that wins over his irises, and lets your heart rate settle, readying for his hand to leave your skin.

But then, his lips into a wolfish grin, wide and impish and utterly feral, and all at once his sweetness dissipates.

‘Should I call you Miss Y/N, then?’ he beams, gifting your ass with another strong squeeze.

Stone faced, all your blood rushes to your toes, heart bottoming out in your cunt as adrenaline courses through your veins instead, betraying you. He knows you only like to be called Kitten in bed, and Miss when he's been particularly naughty.

‘You’re turning a field trip into a game of role play,' you mutter, words quick and voice low as you shake your head. 'This is exactly why you shouldn’t be here.’

‘That’s besides the point, bright star.’ Chanyeol moves closer, his shoulder nudging softly against yours and allowing the wind to carry his cologne through your open mouth, right onto your tongue. It drips, like honey, down your throat, warming everything it touches as you try to drink it down, realizing you are parched for him. ‘I’m right here, with you. Don’t I add a ray of sunshine to your otherwise bland day?’

Rolling your eyes, you try not to laugh. ‘I’m a little preoccupied, Chan. I’m working and - ohh, fuck what are you doing?’

You choke on a gasp as Chanyeol pushes his hand lower, deeper, sliding down through your underwear until his fingers toy gently with your folds, stroking idly with the barest of touches. You shiver, biting your lip to keep from making sound as your walls clench around nothing in anticipation. Mindlessly, your arm reaches for the tiled wall beside you, feeling the blood rush beneath your fingertips as your press against its coolness.

‘Just keep talking, baby,’ he whispers, voice low and full of gravel. He presses firmly against your slit with the flat of his hand, ensuring that his fingers do not slide in, teasing. ‘Stay calm. Don’t let anyone notice you, Miss Y/N.

There’s a hint of laughter in his voice, amusement and encouragement laced through the words, but your focus lands upon the weight and intention of his expression, the way he seems to burn before the long expanse of white snow just beyond the window, and all at once it hurts to breathe. Playfulness lives within the deep richness of his voice, but not in his eyes - heavy lidded and thick with desire. His tongue runs over his bottom lip, gaze cast downward at smooth expanse of your chest beneath your button up shirt. Chanyeol swallows thickly, brow furrowed with wanting, and he runs his index finger over your slit, lips twitching in a smile as he feels your wetness.

‘Chan,’ you whine, breathless as you struggle to find the right things to say. ‘I can’t think when you’re doing that, fuck me.’

Further excuses die on your lips, dissolving on contact with the heat of your tongue, your mouth, your skin, your lungs. It’s winter, winter in Chicago, and yet you are alight beside him, the thick wool of your coat suddenly too heavy for the temperature of his touch. Casting his eyes away from you and the dry, red part of your lips, his expression morphs into a smile of placid nonchalance as he slowly guides the tip of his middle finger into your core.

‘You don’t need to ask for it, baby,’ he teases, voice running over your skin, hot and heavy like melted chocolate.

Closing your eyes, you try to think of something, anything that is not his touch, his mouth, his hands, but come up empty. Attempting to maintain the slow, even pattern of your breath, you push your anticipation and craving for more aside, biting the inside of your cheek to keep your expression in check.

‘Chan,’ you begin, gathering your strength. Opening your eyes, your vision is blurred, unfocused. ‘Not here. Are you really insinuating that you would fuck me? In a McDonald’s?’

He hums, a deep rumble of thunder that makes your bones quake as he bends to kiss against your ear. ‘I thought it was established a long time ago that I’d fuck you anywhere.’

'Jesus Christ,' you breathe, blood starting to feel like a live wire. ‘You really can’t say those things to me when I’m working.’

Chanyeol laughs quietly, a musical, erotic sound that cascades down your spine and spreads fire along your joints, forcing a rush of wetness to your core that builds exponentially, only to be swept and swirled by his finger. It’s a delicate touch, not nearly satisfying or deep enough to bring comfort or relief, purposely keeping you on edge and on the precipice of demanding more.

‘It’s just as…hard for me,’ he murmurs, lowering his lips to your earlobe. Tilting away momentarily, he pushes your hair over your shoulder with his free hand before placing a chaste kiss to the soft flesh. ‘I want you all the time; feels like I can’t breathe if I’m not buried inside you.’ He swallows, the slow exhale through his nose raising gooseflesh on your arms as it travels down your neck. ‘One look at you, and I get hard on sight. I want my mouth full of you, your cunt full of me,' he finishes with a kiss, biting at the lobe before pulling away.

Skin wet and meeting his breathe in an alluring breeze, a chill rushes over you, eyelids fluttering as a whimper escapes your chest. He's got you exactly where he wants you, teetering on the edge of desire as you lean closer and closer to his side.

Pressing a final kiss just below your ear, Chanyeol turns away. ‘What’s that big plastic thing over there?’ he asks, pointing to the large play area in the adjoining room.

‘The play place?’ Your answer is nothing but air, a small exhale and a clipped enunciation which give away you are beginning to cave.

Sensing he's nearly won you over, he pushes his finger through your folds, up to the knuckle, and curls it, smirking as you cover your mouth to quietly release a moan. A chuckle reverberates within his chest, the baritone echo vibrating into your bones, as he offers a lingering kiss against your temple.

‘Let me fuck you in that.’

Raising your head to meet his gaze, you find the wild determination that has nestled at the corners of his lips. His cheeks are flushed, likely just as flushed as yours, breath coming heavily as his eyes cannot help but wander rather deliberately over your lips, having their fill of you. And still, his finger maintains its empty rhythm, promising more - something harder, something thicker, something deeper - and delivering none.

'Absolutely not,' you stammer, mind racing to formulate a coherent answer. 'That thing is crawling with germs.'

Chanyeol simply smiles, pushing his finger inside you to the hilt, slowly thrusting as he luxuriates in your wetness.

'Baby, you have a master's degree in education,' he counters, smirking as your head tips back to expose more of your neck. The heat of his breath washes over you, the fullness of his lips sucking at your exposed tendon. 'You can figure it out - lay down your coat, lay down my coat. Don't you have cleansing wipes with you?'

As long as you've known him, his voice has been your addiction, a sound that burrows into your blood and rearranges the chambers of your heart. You're alive with him, alive with the sound of him, and your thighs begin to ache - wanting and wanting to be wrapped around his, heels pressing into his back, feeling him, full of him. Breathless, your mind struggles to hold onto the words he says, caught up in the way he sounds, in the way he rolls through you, in the way he's yours, and only manage to truly comprehend the last things he says.

'Cleansing wipes?' Your voice stumbles over speech, awkward and saddened to follow the music he kissed into you. 'In my laptop bag, yeah. Why?'

You don't get it - rather, you cannot get it, all of your focus paid to the way his finger rocks into you, the knuckles of his other fingers meeting your folds with his teasing thrusts, and the frustrating of yearning for more fogs your mind. Images flash behind your eyes: you, riding him with your shirt open and his mouth at your breasts; you, on your back as the plastic melts into your spine, the thrust of his cock hitting deep enough for you think it could hurt if you were any less trusting; you, come running down your thighs and nipples reddened from his teeth.

And then, after seeing the ways he wants you and could have you, you finally understand.

'No!' you exclaim, eyes suddenly wide as you rear back to face him. 'Do you know how badly that will burn?”

Chanyeol simply blinks, expression unmoved. Dropping his voice an octave, his eyebrow twitches in an effort to remain utterly, unabashedly serious. 'Do you know how badly I want to fuck you?'

The words shoot straight to the hot center of your core, wetting your folds and letting his finger slide in deeper with ease. Body beginning to tremble with need, you watch as Chanyeol's focus bores into your soul, demanding and unwavering and craving, as redness spreads over his own neck. You've seen that flush countless times in your life, the beginnings of a fire that will blaze into you until you are spent and sweating; a fire that cannot be satiated, and you know he means it. When he flushes like this, he is only idly holding the remnants of his control, boxed in by a thirst that burns you both to ash.

That flush means he's been needing you since you left, since you woke up and made love sweetly - just once - and you left him, wanting you again and again, distraught and lonely and going hungry.

'Get me to the fucking play place,' you insist. 'Right now.'

A keening whine erupts from his throat, expression crumbling from one of pained concentration to one of adoration, passion, and longing. 'Happily.'

Chanyeol pulls his hand from your core slowly, taking his time so he does not hurt you, and ensuring you feel every movement of his hand. Hissing, your fingers ball into a fist against the tile and you keep your eyes on him, watching as he lifts his finger to his lips. Time seems to stand still as he runs the pad of his finger over his bottom lip, letting your juices create a glossy sheen over the plump flesh before he takes it into his mouth, eyes rolling slightly back as he drinks you off his skin.

'That's my goddess,' he says, tongue gliding over his lip to take the last of you down. 'Always so sweet for me.'

Transfixed by the movement of his mouth and tongue, you simply reach for his hand and guide him towards the play place, letting the wetness of his finger ground you in the moment. Coming to the entrance, you pause, Chanyeol bumping into you softly from the force of his eager steps, and watch as numerous children - some your students, some the children of other patrons - slide down into the ball-pit and eagerly crawl through the tubes at every level.

'I knew this was a terrible idea,' you mutter under your breath, gripping Chanyeol's hand tighter. Casing a narrowed gaze at your husband, you cock and eyebrow, expectant. 'How do you presume we get everyone out of there?'

Smirking, he rolls his eyes as he releases your hand. 'Are you or are you not an authority figure?'

Moving to the center of the room, Chanyeol claps his hands loudly several times, getting everyone's attention. 'Children!' he yells, not noticing the way some of the kids wince at his volume. 'Your teacher and I need to do a brief safety check of the play...thing. Go sit by the tables for 10 minutes while we check for....broken things and harmful objects.'

'Who are you, sir? A small seven year old from your class, Seo-Jun, comes to stand next to Chanyeol, tugging gently on the hem of his coat. He cranes his head upwards to see Chanyeol, seemingly unfazed by his height.

Painting a serene smile on his face, Chanyeol knees to meet the boy's eyes. 'I’m the music teacher, Mr. Argue,' Chanyeol explains, and you find yourself covering your mouth to stifle a laugh.

'But I’ve never seen you before,' Seo-Jun says, cocking his head to the side as he inspects Chanyeol's features, curious.

Without hesitation, Chanyeol places his hand on the boy's shoulder and turns him, rising to a stand. Then you obviously don’t come to class enough. Go sit. Safety first'

Seo-Jun hums as he walks away, considering Chanyeol and turning back to glance at him as he is joined by a friend, a smaller girl you recognize as Eun-Ha. She too casts brief looks at Chanyeol, lips pulled into a smile as she whispers to Seo-Jun skeptical of his presence. The rest of the children move without question, parents and other patrons herding their children away, eyes narrowed and wary of your presence.

Proud, Chanyeol returns to your side and takes your hand, leading you towards the entrance to the play place.

‘Excellent job, baby,' you praise with a giggle, 'But Seo-Jun is seven. He has no choice but to go to class with everyone else. They go together as a class at the same time every day.'

'I don’t know how this works,' Chanyeol huffs, though is fueled enough by his wanting that he does not pout. 'He’s sitting, isn’t he?'

Chuckling at his cheeky grin, you pause at a tubular entrance, studying the construct with a keen eye. There are three tubes that function as both an entrance and exit, a slide into a ball pit, a rope to climb, and a wall with foot straps that leads directly to a red square just below the center; within the construct, there is a ladder that leads into a further ball pit, and a tunnel that leads to a trampoline off to the side. The play place itself stretches upwards to the ceiling, and, while you are sure such physical tests of motor skills are easy to manage, as you scan the sizes of all the tubes you struggle to imagine how Chanyeol will fit inside with you.

'My love,' you begin, hearing Chanyeol release a noise of acknowledgement at your side. He steps closer, wanting to be as near as possible, mind racing as he formulates a strategy. 'How do you suppose you will fit inside this? That we will fit inside this?'

He shrugs, nonchalant. 'I’ve been practicing yoga lately. I’ve become quite the flexible man.'

'Brilliant,' you counter. 'So why don’t you just fuck yourself?' Turning to face him with a wide smile, you snort at his minutely scandalized expression, waiting for him to whine in distress.

Instead, he lets himself get close, as close as he was before, lips moving against your ear. 'Because,' he purrs, nose gently guiding your head to the side to make room for him, 'your cunt is the sweetest thing I’ve ever been inside. And nothing, and no one,' he continues, biting your earlobe gently enough to feel small pressure, 'will ever keep me from hearing you cry my name as you come.'

Your hand reaches for his arm, steadying yourself as your core clenches around nothing once more, nerves driven to the brink of desire. His arm wraps possessively around your waist, pulling you to his side, heart and mind aware of your faltering strength.

'Now,' he carries on, voice a little louder than he intends, propelled by his eagerness. 'I’ve thought about this. If I go in first and you follow after, there’s that big purple box up there.' Chanyeol points to a long rectangular box with a small window, high above the floor, in the center of the plastic fort. 'It’s big enough to fit two people. And besides, how else are parents supposed to get their kids, right? Adults are meant to fit in this for that reason alone.'

Considering his words for a few seconds, you find yourself agreeing with him. The rectangle is large enough to fit you both, and neither of you have ever been the type to back down from a challenge. Briefly, you recall the sweltering green plastic of a porta-loo at Lollapalooza, a 11AM fucking that could only happen when the porta-loo was clean and untouched. It put the sweat on your brow and neck, the smell of it lingering in your nostrils for hours, but the smile, and the satisfaction, lasted for days.

Running your hand through your hair, you sigh, regarding the play place with a sheepish smile. 'I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this.'

Satisfied, with you and with himself, Chanyeol grabs your hand and squeezes it, a low exclamation of delight rolling through him as he gifts your cheek with a kiss. 'I shall never say you don’t love me.'

Your body tilts into his, pressing your cheek against his lips, luxuriating in the softness as your as flutter closed. He showers you in moments of affection like this always, hand reaching for yours and lips just as eager for a smooth expanse of your skin. Being parted, regardless of the length of time, hurts, blood and body addicted to one another, relieved only when you are close and savoring the contact.

He kisses your cheek three times like this, nose running along your cheekbone in ardor, breath catching in his lungs as he takes in the smell of your perfume.

'Thank you,' he murmurs, lips moving against your skin. 'For wanting me.'

Pulling away from him, you swallow thickly, looking down at your feet and letting a wave of longing glide along your nerves. Wetness pools at your core once more, and you can feel a patch of slick growing on your underwear.

Lifting your arm, you gesture vaguely at the play place. 'Get on with it, then.'

Nodding enthusiastically, Chanyeol discards his jacket, folding it neatly before placing it at your feet with a grin. Adoration pools in his irises, and you feel yourself begin to drown before he moves, getting on all fours with an eagerness you find to be adorably childlike. With a shake of his bum, Chanyeol makes for the green tube, quickly negotiating his entrance as though he had come prepared for an excursion like this. Once inside the tube, the echoes of his clambering reach your ears, and you rest the back of your hand against your lips, chuckling to yourself as you hear the banging of his large feet carrying him, messily, through the tube.

'Yoga paying off then?' you call with a giggle, listening for sounds that give away his location.

'Fuck off.' Chanyeol's voice carries slowly, muffled by the thick plastic that separates you from him.

'What am I supposed to say if you get stuck in there?'

You smile widens when your only response is a muffled hum of exasperation, the sounds of his struggle falling quiet. Even without him beside you, the tension in the atmosphere continues to linger, heightened by the silence and the shift in humor. His focus on achieving his goal is palpable, seeping through the play place and quickening the speed of your blood through your heart. Always, he is like this, committed to winning only slightly less than he is committed to you, and when the two collide, there are few things that could ease him out of such an intense state of wanting.

Bending to pick up his coat, you press your face to the wool, letting your eyes fall closed as his cologne makes your lungs burn. Just the scent of him makes you salivate, the softness of the fabric ticking your cheeks and raising a phantom touch of his fingers, memories of all the times he's cupped your face as he kissed you, held your face in his hands as he rocked into you, thumbs wiping tears from your eyes the night he proposed, after your first fight, after he told you he loved you.

His hands have been all over you, and still you feel him, always, wanting him just as much as the first time he looked you in the eyes, ears red and mouth dry, telling you he wouldn't be able to sleep if you went another night knowing how badly he needed you.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of light tapping, a rhythmic pulsing from somewhere in the fort, and you raise your head, smirking, expecting to hear his needy plea for help within a tube. Instead, you find your husband within the purple rectangle, peeking out the small window, beaming and waving, pressing his hand and forehead to the plastic, silently begging you to join him.

'Would you look at that,' you mutter. 'Looks like we'll be using my coat, then.'

Dropping his coat back to the floor, you regard the tube skeptically before sighing, getting on your hands and knees to mimic Chanyeol's approach. After a few moments of awkward, uncoordinated crawling, you emerge from the end of the tube, finding yourself at a fork. The route to your right appears much smaller, enough that you would have to crawl on your stomach to make through entirely, and cannot fathom how Chanyeol would have fit his legs through the corners. Heading left, you crawl until you find yourself at a thin, narrow ladder leading up to the red cube below the purple one.

With an exasperated sigh, you pull yourself out of the small space, navigating carefully, so you can get on the ladder without slipping.

'Chan, how the fuck do I get up this without breaking things?' you ask, looking around and feeling certain this ladder will not hold your weight.

'I dunno,' Chanyeol's voice comes, distant yet remarkably close, echoing around you through the tunnels. ‘Climb.’

'Fucking...climb where,' you mutter, hoping for a different ladder to be mentioned.

'I went up the wall grip,' Chanyeol says matter-of-factly, assuming you and everyone else you have met in your life knows exactly what he is referencing.

'Helpful.'

You begin climbing the ladder, slowly placing your shoes on each rung and pausing so that you don't slip, hoping that the ladder doesn't tip back. The yellow metal is slippery, and with each grasp you sneer, hoping it's just because your hands are clammy, that the heat from desire has mixed with the heating of the building and the heat that has gathered in the play place, making everything feel damp.

'How’s it going, precious? Where are you?' Chanyeol’s voice calls, encouraging and excited.

'I’m climbing the ladder of death,' you manage, reaching the top and seeing a tilted entrance to the red square.

Narrowing your eyes, you look down to your feet, keeping aware of the heel of your shoes as you coordinate flattening yourself enough to push yourself both off the ladder and up into the square.

Chanyeol's laugh ripples through the tubes, a symphony that makes you grip the plastic landing with fervor. 'I’m fairly certain you’re making that sound far more exciting than it actually is.'

'Children are meant to climb this, Chanyeol.' Pushing yourself up into the red square, you let yourself be led by the sound of his voice. 'Not grown adults.'

'How did you even get there?' he asks, though he does not pause for your answer. 'You must have gone the wrong way.'

Emerging into the purple rectangle, you cock and eyebrow at him as he beams, scrambling to take your hands and helping you inside. 'I didn't know there was a map for fucking.'

Pulling you into the center of the rectangle, Chanyeol's smile morphs from one of an amused grin to one of profound affection, irises swimming with a heady combination of want and need and unprecedented devotion. He lets himself have his fill of you as you settle, his penetrating stare raising the temperature several degrees just by its intensity. Moving your hair from your face, he lets his fingers card through the strands, his expression softening.

'You made it,' he praises, forehead dropping to yours before pressing a kiss to your nose.

Inching closer, you relish the way he never fails to create a cocktail of almost painful arousal and blood deep longing that burns, not unlike a star, between you as you fall heart first into one another. Letting your foreheads touch and breaths become shared for several moments, luxuriating in the act of breathing and existing together, you feel a wave of desire course through your veins as he hums, lost in pleasure and becoming carried away with the totality of you. Shaking your head, you pull back, settling on the floor as your cross your legs, looking from side to side with a grin.

'This is...cozy,' you tease, cocking your head to the side playfully.

Chuckling, Chanyeol pushes back to settle on his legs, rotating so his back rests against the wall, creating enough space for his long limbs to extend in front of him. He enthusiastically spreads his arms, inviting and welcoming you to him, and you eagerly comply, moving to his side to sling one leg over his lap, settling on, and against, him with a contented sigh.

Delicately cupping his face in your hands, you let your fingers stroke over the shell of his ears and lean forward to capture his lips in a kiss, corner of your mouth curling into a satisfied smile as he releases a small, relieved moan. His hands grip your hips beneath your coat, pressing you roughly down against his groin as he rolls up into you slowly, gently, enacting a promise of what's to come. Licking at his lips, he opens for you, tongues touching and gliding, your hands shifting to the base of his neck, fisting in his hair and massaging his scalp in encouragement.

Breaking the kiss, his head falls back, mouth open and panting as he struggles to catch his breath, lips red and wet, eyes dark from the dilation of his pupils.

'Better?' he asks with an impish smirk, a gruff sound that barrels through you, pooling in your belly.

'Tons.'

Claiming his lips once more, you try to keep the kiss chaste, hoping to tease the edges of his control as you move down to his jaw, his thumbs rubbing hard circles into your hips through your pants. But his hands move swiftly, sensing you're ready to pull away, and he places one hand firmly on the back of your neck, keeping you in place, deepening the kiss as he rolls up into your center once more. Through his pants, you feel the hardness of his cock beginning to form, the pressure against your core, even through layers of clothes enough to send a choked breath tumbling into his waiting mouth.

Running his tongue along your bottom lip before sucking it between his teeth, he lets his hands slip away from your neck, reassured he has you where he wants you, and lets his fingers nestle beneath the collar of your shirt. It’s a featherlight touch, the tickle of him against a soft, rarely touched and barely seen part of you sending a pool of anticipation and wetness to your folds, and you feel how slick you have become as you move against him.

Hands still gripping his hair, you tug him back, breaking the kiss as you grind down into his lap, transfixed by the way his brow furrows, eyes locked on yours and tongue coming to lick his lips before he bits the flesh in wanting. Repeating the action, you grind into him and his head falls forward onto your shoulder, body wired and hands needy, his level of arousal given away by the slow dry thrust he offers to your core.

'Tell me this wasn’t a good idea,' Chanyeol moans into your neck, lips moving against your skin as he speaks.

With a growl of possessiveness, he places a wet kiss at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. His hands push the collar of your shirt aside, forcibly enough the button at your breasts slips open, and attaches his lips to the skin before he nips at you, teeth ghosting over the places his tongue so deftly heats. Clutching at him, your hands leave his hair to press your fingers into the muscle of his broad shoulders, shuddering through a current of arousal as your head tips back, opening to him, offering and giving yourself over to his heart, his mouth, his soul.

Enticed, Chanyeol takes a hand away from your hip, smiling as you whine at the loss of contact, and cradles the back of your head against his palm. Nuzzling against the center of your throat, he mumbles a low curse before biting at the tendon, sending fire into your veins and making you grind deeply against his lap, aching to hold him inside you.

‘It was an awful idea,’ you whimper, tugging at his hair once more to move his face away. Gliding your hands over his shoulders and down his arms, you grip his hands and guide them to the buttons of your shirt. ‘But I need you, and I don’t really care where or how it happens. I just need you to hurry up.’

He releases a breathy laugh, large fingers struggling to undo the small buttons of your shirt without requiring further encouragement. ‘We’ll have to keep quiet, baby,’ he reminds you with an unsteady tone, ears turning an adorable shade of crimson as your shirt falls off your shoulders and down your arms. With your breasts exposed, you watch as he swallows, rolling up into your core as he kisses at your chest. ‘Think you can manage that?’

Bringing your hands to his neck, you slide them down to his tie, tugging at the Windsor knot with vigor as you smile.

‘Can you?’ you counter. ‘Or will we have to use this?’

Using two fingers you push his face gently away from your chest, showing him the end of his tie. Years together and still be blushes at the sight of you, spine and body and mind wound to a coil at the knowledge you are his, no one else’s, and the very thought always sends his voice to an octave of possession that makes your bones rattle. Truthfully, you are both vocal, but his voice hits like thunder, juts against your skin and burrows into your pores with the same earnestness as he buries himself into you, keeping you full and keeping the world on edge, knowing you are his, you are his, you are his, and he absolutely will never let you go.

Nostrils flaring at the thought of either you or he, or both of you, so caught up in lust and loving that you crave one another’s names into your skin from the volume of having and taking that a gag is required, he pulls his hands from your body. Brow turning severe and demanding, he juts his chin forward and lowers his voice, stepping into a place of authority.

‘Bra off. Undress yourself for me,’ he commands, undoing the rest of the knot.

With wide eyed obedience, you bring your arms back to the clasp of your bra, unlatching it and wishing the silk of your fingers was the rough callous of fingertips, aching for the heaviness of his touch. It falls away from you the same moment his tie slithers from his neck and into the space between your bodies. Sweat builds at your hairline and the base of your neck, settling into grooves you did not know you contained until he roused the full length of your being, skin slick with a craving for his body on yours that borders precariously on greed.

Enthralled by the harsh rise and fall of his chest, you kiss sweetly at his lips, nipples hardened by a yearning for his palms against the sensitive nerves. And it hits you, amidst the voraciousness of your appetite and the endless stretch of utter reverence your heart carries for him, that this kind of wanting has thrown you both off your axis, delivered you to the brink of a risk that carries a dangerous consequence.

Stomach dropping, you let the anxiety coat your throat as you speak. ‘Chan.’ Your hands come to hold his, halting his motions of unbuttoning his shirt, steadying his movements.

Immediately, he stops, gaze full of concern and scans your body for hurt or marks or a reason he should stop. Always, this is his gut reaction to a hint of sadness or worry in your voice - a soul bound promise to ensure your wellbeing, and ensure he loves you back into the sun.

Gliding his hand over your cheek, fingers moving into your hair as he strokes the strands, his other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you as close to his chest as he can. ‘What is it, baby?’

Softening at his concern, your own hand rests against his cheek, breath catching in your chest with a mild ache as he leans into your touch. ‘We do shit like this all the time, but...now, I could lose my job.’

Nodding, he catches your lips and searing kiss, pouring his encouragement and understanding into your blood. You drink it down, hoping that this kind of affection will give you wings, will provide you the confidence to be young and free and wholly alive, and in love, in the arms of the man who taught you to be brave. But still, he gives you an out, refusing to push you to a limit you aren’t ready to take.

‘We don’t have to, baby,’ he affirms, breaking the kiss and regarding you with a conviction that makes your mouth run dry. ‘Not if you don’t want it.’

Shaking your head, you pull his hand from your hair, twining your fingers together in reassurance. ‘I do. You know I do.’ He lifts your clasped hands to his mouth, dropping a kiss against your knuckles. Overwhelmed by the kindness he radiates, you offer him a tender smile, even when half-hard and longing to be buried between your thighs. ‘But there’s a window right there. What if someone sees?’

Chanyeol's gaze shifts away from your face, settling behind you to regard the small clear circle. He pauses briefly, mind racing and thoughts loud enough you can almost hear them, before he breaks into a wide grin, releasing his hand to guide your hips up and away from his lap. Abruptly, he flips you, swiftly moving his hand to your mouth to muffle your exclamation of shock and squeezes your hip in warning. Now, with you resting on all fours he curls over your back, planting a wet kiss to the center of your spine, easing your bodies forward until your face rests directly in the center of the window.

‘Then you’ll have you keep watch.'

You can hear the smirk in his voice, the blissed out honey cadence he adopts when he gets to be the one in control, leading your fucking with a confidence that makes your thighs clench, inner walls gripping at a hollow sense of nothingness.

From this angle you can just make out the edges of the tables, will see the moment anyone approaches the play place and can alert Chanyeol to stop. But still, you are reminded of the risk of someone approaching, the heat of anxiety urging you along to finish, and to finish silently, with Chanyeol’s hands and skin all over you.

And you'd protest this angle, would remind him that this is wrong and unprofessional and illegal, if you did not want him just as violently, too, since you left him in the morning. You came, loudly and into the smooth angle of his shoulder, clutching at his arms with enough pressure to tear straight through to the bone, but still you wanted him. You got out of bed, naked and sweating and trembling, and still you wanted him. You got dressed, covered your sensitive groin with underwear that moistened on contact, and still you wanted him.

This, of course, was his tactic. To remind you there are many other ways to be seen, and to be had, and he would always find his way to drink his fill of you, choosing the most isolated approach to assure your body in pleasure was for his eyes only. Taming you, his universe, for all the world to see if only they would look up.

Rutting against your ass with a shallow grunt, the pad of his index finger runs over your bottom lip, tracing the flesh with a roughness that makes blood rush beneath the skin.

'Why didn't you wear a skirt today?' he laments, dipping his finger into your open mouth. Closing around it, you suck at the digit, eyes falling closed as you imagine your mouth full, wrapped around his cock with your head held firmly in place. His voice breaks, stumbling over his words before he can properly gather them. 'Would have been so much faster to get inside you.'

Pulling his finger from your lips with a soft pop, his hands move to the button of your trousers, thumbing it open and undoing the zipper as his other slips beneath the waistband of your underwear. He grips the band of your pants firmly, ready to tug them down at a moments notice, but instead lets two fingers trace the wetness that has smeared over your folds, gliding them along your slit without letting them push inside. Biting your lip, you press your ass back against his hips, feeling the full force of his erection at this angle, and shiver, wanting to be full twice over.

'I could have looked you in the eye when you come around me,' he continues through grit teeth, meeting your ass with a thrust that makes him hiss. 'Asking me with your eyes to fill you up, quiet but aching for it.'

His hand leaves you, slipping up and away from a core that makes you whine in displeasure. Behind you, Chanyeol chuckles at the sound, a dark laugh that tumbles down your back in an avalanche. Guiding your pants over and down your ass, he pushes them down to your knees, walking his hands up your legs before scratching at the sensitive skin where your thighs meet your groin. Lowering your chin to your chest, you exhale silently, nails digging into the plastic to keep yourself quiet.

'When I saw you put these on this morning,' he says, snapping the band of your underwear, 'I immediately wanted to take them off.'

Silently, you curse, the atmosphere becoming thick and heady. All of your body feels dampened by him, cunt and pores dripping with want for him, saliva wetting your parted lips and pussy aching to be soaked full of him. He lets both hands slide over your stomach, pausing his ministrations, pulling your back into an arch against his chest, and demanding that you listen. Raising your head, you look back out the window, vision unfocused and note the way life seems to continue, mundane and dull, not fifty feet below.

'You expected me to just let you walk away from me.’ Mouth against your ear, he licks at the shell, moving his hands up slowly to cup your breasts, massaging the supple flesh . 'My come still dripping down your legs, staining you so pretty.'

Clenching around nothing at the rich chocolate of his voice, you release a wet moan, rolling your shoulders forward slightly to put more of your breasts in his hands. 'Chan, please.'

'What do you want, kitten?' he whispers, sounding so sweet, so docile, so utterly, unbelievably dangerous.

'Your fingers,’ you try, pushing back against his groin. Lifting one hand, you reach back, hoping to palm against his cock, but he removes his hand from your chest, grabbing your wrist to press it back to the floor. With a soft whimper of defeat, you try again ‘Want your cock inside me. Please, anything.'

He hums, considering your words and releasing your wrist to settle between your legs. Sliding the line of your underwear to the side, the pressure against your folds making you sigh, he swirls two fingers over your cunt. The sound of your wetness seems to echo in the plastic cube, though you know it’s just your heightened senses making everything - everything about his touch, his breath, and the almost painful emptiness of your inner walls - resonate.

'Do you know what I wanted this morning?' he asks, voice low as he presses the tips of his fingers inside you.

Whelmed by the sudden something moving inside you, you simply shake your head, luxuriating in the sensation of his skin and bony knuckles as they spread you delicately before moving further into inside, to the second knuckle.

'Words, kitten. Use them,’ he commands. ‘Or do you want me to spank you? Remind you what happens when you disobey?'

Removing his other hand from your breast, he slides the fullness of his palm down your spine before lifting it, delivering a light slap at the same moment he lets his fingers push deep inside you to the hilt.

A moan builds in your chest, threatening to splinter the cage bones before you catch it, choking on the sound.

Swallowing thickly, you inhale deeply, letting the oxygen burn before you speak. 'What did you want?'

He sets a slow rhythm with his fingers, spreading them with every other outward thrust to prepare you. The bones in his knuckles tease you, and you clench around his hand, desperate to hold him inside.

'I wanted to fuck my come back into you,’ he bites you, ‘add more to it before I spread it over your chest. Maybe even come on your tongue.'

Chanyeol adds a third finger, speeding up the rhythm and lets his other hand fall back on the soft flesh of your ass, spanking you harder this time over your underwear. Moaning, you squeeze your eyes shut, wiggling back into his palm as he massages the area before he reaches for the band, pulling your underwear down and letting the curve of your cheeks keep the band in place.

‘You felt how much I wanted you too,’ he chastises. ‘Felt my dick against your hip and you got up, gave me a full view of this ass like I wouldn’t want another bite.’

Again, he lifts his hand, creating a slight breeze in the air that makes the wetness at your clit and thighs tingle. This time, his spank is hard, a crack that seems to detonate around the plastic. A soft cry is wrenched from your lips, legs starting to tremble as you lift the back of your hand to your mouth, muffling your exclamation of pain and pleasure.

Noticing your weakening resolve, Chanyeol stops the soothing rub of your skin prematurely, letting the sting of his palm burn into the flesh as he blindly sends his hand seeking. It’s not a deep hurt, certainly nothing compared to the times he’s slapped your ass red, punished you for the way you called him at work and talked him to a painful erection; the way you wrapped your lips around his cock and sucked him to the edge only to walk away, going back to dinner with his parents; the way you wore silk to his office’s holiday dinner, and sat far away from him all night, spreading your legs wide to reveal your lack of underwear every time he walked by.

No, this sting is positively placid compared to the times he’s ensured you would not sit without remembering his hand, but it aches just the same, tightening the muscles in the base of your spine and suddenly making you painfully aware of your neglected clit.

Chanyeol releases a soft noise of satisfaction before bringing his hand to your face, fist full of his tie.

'Open up,’ he commands. ‘You’ll have to bite down on this to keep yourself quiet.’

Obediently, you open your mouth, letting him gently push the fabric inside, the bulge of the base tucked against your tongue and ensuring it does not come apart.

‘Can you breathe, baby?’ Chanyeol softly takes your chin and turns your head toward his leaning, over you to make sure you are safe. ‘Comfortable? Let me know if it’s too much.’

Eyes locked on his, studying the deep black of his pupils, full of lust and longing and concern, you nod, thinking this kind of affection would be sweet if he did not curl his fingers at the first sign of your approval, grazing the sweet spot inside you with practiced diligence. Immediately, your eyes blow wide, biting down on the tie and letting it muffle the exclamation of ecstasy he rips from you.

And all at once, his hands on you disappear, leaving you alone and slipping from your center with a speed that makes your head look frantically back to his, seeking an answer.

'Play with yourself,’ he mutters before slipping his fingers into his mouth and sucking your juices from them. His eyes roll back briefly, tongue peeking out to lap the spaces in between. ‘I need to undo these and I don't have much room.'

The pun of his reference to the space inside the cube and the lack of room within his trousers makes you smile, but only momentarily. Wiping a hand on your leg, hoping the traces of sweat that have built along your skin will clean some part of you fingers and knowing, with lament, that it will only aid in ensuring they become more sticky, you lightly toy with your clit. The relief you had hoped for does not come, and you know, without a shadow of a doubt this was his plan.

You would never touch yourself as forcibly as you craved, always hyper aware of the germs children carry, the germs of public spaces, thrilled by the risk and disgusted by the consequence, trapping yourself in your own tug of war that kept you on edge and waiting for him to push you.

Chanyeol wastes no time in undoing the button and fly of his trousers, already too far gone in his own wanting to delay his pleasure. He’d wanted you since morning, wanted you since he decided to come to you, wanted you before he’d stepped inside the restaurant, and now that he has you as he wants you, there is little control left within his veins to cool his blood. He tugs his pants and briefs down in one swift motion, the length of his erection springing free and standing tall.

Gripping it steadily with his hand, he settles back behind you, kissing your ear, your cheek, your neck as he places his knees comfortably between yours.

‘Hands and knees, kitten,’ he says gently, biting the juncture of your neck and shoulder hard enough for it to bruise. ‘Make sure no one sees.’

With your hands in place and your forehead lulling enough to rest against the window, Chanyeol guides the tip of his cock to your center. Your eyes flutter closed as you feel the come and go of his hand as he pumps himself, taking the wetness from your thighs and folds, spreading it over his length.

‘I can slip right inside,’ he murmurs to himself. ‘You get so wet for me. I’m so lucky to have a pussy made of velvet.’

And with that, he pushes himself slowly inside, gripping your hips to keep you both steady.

Grateful for the tie in your mouth, you moan at the feeling of being spread so full, whining desperately as he rolls his hips, delivering himself to your center and burying his cock inside you to the hilt. Without hesitation, Chanyeol pulls his hips back with an agile snap, only to come forward again, the bones of his hips smacking into yours and making you slip forward. He sets a punishing rhythm, fingers pressing into your flesh hard enough for you to know you will be carrying his marks - the indentation of his teeth on your shoulder turning a soft shade of lavender, the dots of his fingers surely deep enough to adorn a regal shade of blue, and the sweet red of the hickeys he kissed onto your neck blooming not unlike the petals of flowers.

The hot steel of his member scorches you, sends your heart beating into your throat, the rush of your blood flooding your ears as your tongue throbs in time with your pulse. Already, you feel yourself clenching around him, wanting him deeper, wanting him harder, wanting him everywhere, and know that you will not lost. In public, you rarely do, given over to the raw intensity of lust, scorched thin and turned to ash before either of you moves within the other.

Chanyeol bends down against your back, dropping his teeth to the indents he had created without applying any pressure, grunting against your skin and licking aimlessly with his tongue as he thrusts into you. The wet sounds of your fucking fill the cube, and the thought crosses your mind briefly that such a vigorous rhythm will surely give you away, but it bleeds away, burned by the press of his tip against your spot. It’s hard to focus on much other than this, the pound of his hips against yours, the almost painful way your skin presses into the plastic - marked by something other than his touch - and the way the intoxicating aroma of his musk has started to temper the atmosphere. You smell him, deep down into your lungs, and you choke on him, crying out into the tie and wishing it was his mouth swallowing your voice whole.

‘You’re so pretty when you’re like this,’ he mutters, lifting his mouth from your shoulder and pressing it to your ear. ‘Stuffed full of me and wanting more.’

Clenching around his cock, you reach weakly behind you, grappling for his hip to scratch a long line against the skin. The most sensitive part of him, his sides, was always your crutch, a method of regaining an element of power when he had you this way, but once again, he grabs your wrist and presses it back to the ground, rolling into you slowly before pulling out, leaving just his tip inside you.

‘Stay still,’ he threatens, rolling his hips in figure-eights. ‘You know how we both get when I let you touch me.’ He eases his cock back inside you, offering you shallow, tantalizing thrusts. The tease makes your thighs shake. ‘I’ll scream your name tonight, when you’re the only one who can hear me beg for you.’

You can’t answer, violently torn between shaking your head no and nodding your head yes. When he’s like this, often his head is thrown back in bliss, Chanyeol yelling your name like a prayer, and you miss it - miss the music in his soul, the enduring cry of pleasure is yours. But instead, you scratch along the plastic, rocking your ass back against his cock, hoping to take him deeper.

‘I’m going to make you come,’ he says, speeding up his thrusts once more as his hand ghosts over your arm, down your stomach, before pressing gently on your mound. ‘I’m going to make you come and I want to feel it.’

With that, he resumes unforgiving rhythm of his thrusts, his fingers diving down over your cunt to tap in time against your clit. The shock of firm, precise pleasure against the swollen bundle of nerves makes your walls clench erratically, your ass thrusting back against his hips messily, desperate in your uncoordinated attempt to reach the climax you can feel building in your belly and thighs. Eyes starting to water, your vision blurs, breath coming in strained huffs as he alternates taps and swirls of his finger in time with his thrusts.

‘That’s it, kitten,’ he coos, his own thrusts losing their rhythm as he nears his orgasm. ‘Come all over my cock. Let me fill this pussy up. And be quiet about it.’

Inside and around you, he is relentless, leading you over the edge before offering a final push, pressing roughly against your clit as he hits your spot. Muffled, your tongue licks at the tie as you struggle to yell his name, clenching around his cock as your back arches, orgasm making the blood in your veins feel like wildfire. The coil in your belly releases in waves, rolling down and through your skin in a torrent that makes your nerves ache. You feel him, all of him - deep inside you as you tremble around him; against your skin, his chest slick and his mouth wet, his own whines sadly tucked away inside his throat; within your bones, rocking the structure of your marrow into something that carries nothing but the kiss of his name.

Chanyeol is a sensory overload, the totality of him making you throb through your orgasm, vision hazed by white and pussy dripping over him, the wet squelch of your release making the cube sound as though it’s starting to sweat.

His thrusts gain momentum as the aftershocks of your orgasm pushes your nerves into oversensitivity, though they are hardly coordinated. Against your legs, his thighs begin to shake, trembling with the oncoming storm of his own releases. With a few thrusts, his hand moves away from your clit to grip your hips, his head falling into the base of your neck as he comes, hot and wet inside you, the warmth of his release coating your walls and mixing with your own juices.

He stills against you, both of you shaking together, rocked by the force of want and coming down from the raw tempest of yearning you both keep locked away, as best you can. Slowly, his fingers release your hips, rubbing soft, gentle circles over the bruises in apology as his lips give shape to barely audible whispers.

‘I love you,’ he mutters to himself, blissed out and unwilling to find reality. ‘I love you, I love you, you’re everything, my heart.’

Smiling to yourself, you bow your head and spit out the tie, squinting as your eyes burn with sweat and tears. Your limbs are unsteady, bones feeling not unlike gel and ready to give out at a moments notice. Reaching over your shoulder, your fingers graze at his hair, carding through the strands to stroke him back to you, back to the pillar of control you need to help you come down.

Slowly, he comes back to himself with a tiny whine, kissing up your spine as he gently eases his softening cock from your core. Whimpering in discomfort, you let your arms give out beneath you, only to find Chanyeol’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you to his chest as he holds you close. Turning to face him, you nuzzle into his neck, reminding yourself you cannot fall asleep - you absolutely cannot fall asleep - even though you so desperately want to you.

‘Are you okay?’ he asks, kissing your forehead as he smooths your hair from your face.

‘I’m fine,’ you croak, throat dry from lack of use and the strain of being gagged. ‘I’ll need a bottle of water, though.’

For a few seconds, you let yourself be held, glad for the privacy and glad for the protective strength in his arms as he holds you. Eventually, you hear the distant murmurs of children just beyond the play place, adrenaline becoming replaced with anxiety.

‘How do you suppose we get out of here?’ you ask, eyes popping open as you peer at him. ‘I’m not strong enough to go back down that ladder.’

Chanyeol chuckles, kissing you deeply before winking.

‘I thought about that, too,’ he says with a smirk.

‘Oh, no,’ you groan, having already seen where his thoughts have lead you.

‘There’s a slide right here that leads to a ball pit,’ he advises, utterly sure of himself.

Cocking an eyebrow at him, you match his smirk with a teasing pull of your lips. ‘Was the whole point of this excursion one long pun?’

He blushes, smiling playfully. ‘Maybe.’

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