#but I FORGOT an entire damn box of fabric

[tj-crochets]

Most of my fabric is unpacked and organized!

I need to like totally overhaul how I store scrap quilting fabric, and I’m not quite sure how I’m going to do that, but most of my fabric is unpacked!

[hilkaro]

Christmas One-Shoot-Silly-Special You & Fox Edition

🎄🎄🎄

You kneel with your hands on your knees next to the chair where your master sits. Fox reads a book, wearing reading glasses on his nose, legs crossed, his hand playing absently with your hair.

You savor this moment of peace and relaxation, glancing around the room. Outside, snow continues to fall steadily, enough to likely build a snowman. The fire crackles happily in the fireplace. Your eyes fall on a calendar hanging nearby. As Fox's pet, the concept of time or passing days no longer holds significance for you, but you notice a marked date. Today is December 23rd.

"Oh..." you let out a quiet sound of surprise. It's almost Christmas already.

You realize that the hand, which was playing with your hair moments ago, has frozen in place.

Damn!

You look up and meet his golden eyes. Bravo. You managed to capture his attention. That's the end of enjoying a moment of blissful peace.

"Something wrong?" he asks in his usual hoarse voice, a faint hint of curiosity lurking in it.

"Nothing, just... Christmas is almost here," you reply softly and shyly.

His gaze shifts to the calendar. "Hmm... true. So what?"

You squirm within yourself as he closes the book and sets it aside. Damn! Damn!

"Don't you care about the Christmas?"

You're taking a big risk with this question, but you have to say something; he expects it. Fox straightens up, placing both legs on the floor.

I'm not the Christmas kind of person, however…, he pauses his voice for a moment, his eyes sweep over your form and you immediately feel a cold sweat, "I could celebrate a little this year."

He stands up from the chair, wraps a leather leash around his hand, and pulls it, forcing you to stand.

"Come."

You both descend to the basement, a place you despise for the amount of humiliation and pain it witnesses, but also for the pleasure it brings. Fox nudges you towards the restraints, where he secures you in his favorite position — on your knees, hands bound above your head. This time, you receive knee guards with a spreader bar in between, preventing you from closing your thighs, no matter how much you may want to.

"Wait here."

As if you could go anywhere. You can't do anything about it. Your breath quickens, and your heart starts pounding in your chest. You know that in a moment, he'll return, and the play will begin. His play.

Indeed, after a while, Fox comes back, carrying a large box labeled "fucking christmas" in his hands. He's wearing a Santa hat, and his ears poke out from the white fluff. You recognize that he's humming the Christmas song "Let it Snow" under his breath.

He places the box on the chair, the only piece of furniture in the room, and rolls up the sleeves of his black turtleneck.

"What do we have here..." he mutters to himself, examining the contents and pulling out a red ribbon wound on a spool. "This will do!"

You swallow hard as he approaches you, having no idea what he's planning.

"Oh, I forgot about your clothes, what a oversight! You won't need them anymore."

He puts aside what he has in his hands and effortlessly tears off your meager clothing. You hiss through clenched teeth as the torn fabric irritates your skin.

"Well, that's better," he says with satisfaction, tossing the rags to the floor. He takes the ribbon in his hands and stands very close to you. His crotch is near your face and his already slightly engorged cock rubs against your cheek through his jeans. You try hard to look elsewhere.

Fox starts wrapping the ribbon around your wrist, then descends lower, winding it around your entire arm, then your torso, creating careful knots at several places, forming a pattern resembling a turtle shell. Then, diagonally, he wraps the ribbon around your thigh, accidentally-on-purpose brushing against your sensitive flesh multiple times, eliciting a gasp from you each time.

You see a smirk on his face, and you bite your lip.

When your leg is wrapped with the ribbon, Fox bites off a piece and returns to the box. You wonder about this peculiar bondage; the soft material embeds itself into your supple skin, but not unpleasantly.

He comes back with red bows, placing them on the knots on your torso. He takes a few steps back and looks at you appraisingly, puts a hand to his face and tilts his head as if he's thinking about something.

You glance down at your body; you feel like a wrapped present. The thought raises your temperature, and you feel a flush spreading across your cheeks.

Meanwhile, he approaches you again, this time with Christmas lights in his hands, and starts wrapping them around you from the opposite side of the red ribbon. He also wraps them around your chest, avoiding the bows previously placed there. When you are fully adorned with lights, Fox disappears from your field of vision humming to this "Last Christmas I gave you my heart", and after a moment, the colorful bulbs illuminate. You didn't expect this, and now your eyes are teary. You try to blink away the tears intensely.

"You look really adorable," he says in a low and hoarse voice, approaching you. "Like a real Christmas tree..."

He walks over to a box and humming the tune Jingle Bells, he pulls out two golden bells attached to clips. You nervously shake your head as Fox approaches you. You know exactly where he's going to place them, and you brace yourself for the pain.

"Relax..." he advises, fastening the clips onto your nipples.

You hiss in pain, and a few tears roll down your flushed cheeks, but fortunately, the uncomfortable feeling is easy to ignore after a while. Your nipples have been through so much that these clips are no challenge for them.

"See, it's not so bad," he says in a soothing tone.

With each deep breath you take, the bells lightly jingle, which would be amusing if it weren't for the fear of what will happen next.

"Do you know what else a real tree needs?" he asks in a light tone, and you shake your head in response, causing the bells to ring louder.

"You're missing a star on top," he answers, pressing a golden glass star into your stiff fingers. "Just be careful, pet; you wouldn't want to drop it, would you?"

"No, I wouldn't," you confirm weakly, wondering what harm dropping such a glass star on your head might cause.

"Hmmm... something else..." he murmurs, returning to the box. He pulls out a small bauble.

You look at him with wide eyes, wondering where this small decoration will end up.

"Open wide~" he says cheerfully, placing the bauble right by your mouth.

With hesitation, you open your mouth, feeling the delicate glass ornament being slowly and carefully inserted. Eventually, the bauble wedges between your teeth.

"I'd be very careful if I were you. You wouldn't want to cut your lips and tongue, would you?" he asks, sounding caring, as if it were your idea and not his.

You immediately start salivating. Fox looks at you with satisfaction, using his thumb to wipe the drool from your chin.

You can do nothing but breathe through your nose and watch his every move with wide, terrified eyes. Meanwhile, he disappears from your sight again, only to return with a massaging wand in his hands.

"Are you ready?" he asks in a low voice, his tail twitching with excitement. "This year, you've ended up on the naughty list, and Santa isn't all that saintly..."

[wardenannie]

Prompt: Tess and Joel make a sex tape (could be either set in Jackson or the QZ) then they watch it and get turned on

*rubs my hands together*

NS*W, obviously.

He finds it as he sorts through a box of old belongings. An old tape, label-less, dusty. He blows the grit off of it, dusts it with his hand, holding it carefully, so as not to disturb the precious tape inside.

Finding a videocassette to tape over hadn't been difficult in the town of Jackson. So many basements to plunder for goods. Who would notice one little copy of Sleepless in Seattle gone missing? That had been three years previous, when they were first settling in. When they were first beginning to explore themselves in ways the QZ simply had not allowed for.

Joel had surprised Tess with the tape and an old, bulky camcorder, and a matching tripod to prop it up on.

He'd meant it for their children. To record a birthday, or perhaps a Christmas, but Tess, as always, had brighter, better, hotter ideas.

So they'd made a sex tape. Put on a good show for the camera. Gotten off to it a few times and then got bored of it, forgot it, left to waste untouched in a box of miscellaneous items. Hopefully never to be found by some innocent, unknowing stranger.

Joel can't even remember what's on the damn thing. He knows they fucked, but the details are entirely lost on him. And perhaps that is a good thing, because if he doesn't recall, neither will his wife. He smiles to himself, coy. This could be fun.

It's late when he comes to her with the innocuous videocassette. He sits on the bed beside her where she is leafing through a book by the light of a scented candle.

He has already locked the door, though she didn't look up to notice.

Joel places a hand on her thigh and clears his throat, drawing her attention from the page to his face.

"Hmm?" She quirks a curious brow at him, noting the tape in his big hands.

"Found this," he says.

"What is it?" She sits up slightly, body outlined nicely by the thin shift she wears to bed every night.

Joel gives a small, pleased smile, "'Member that video we made a few years back?"

It takes a moment, but recognition sparks behind her eyes, followed by a wicked smile, "Oh."

"'Fraid I don't remember much o' what's on here," he continues, spinning the cassette around in his hands. "Thought we could watch it, refresh our memories."

Biting her lower lip, Tess nods, "My memory could use some refreshing."

They have a television in their room; an ancient dinosaur of a thing. A great big black screen with a box hanging off the back. Below the screen is an attached VCR, rarely used. Joel blows in it to clear out any collected dust before he inserts the tape.

It feeds nicely into the slot with a click. And the TV turns from static to an image of a bed. Their bed, three years previous.

He grins, turning to face Tess where she remains leaning on their pillows. Joel strips down to his boxers, already half-hard, and joins her on the mattress.

His wife cups him through the thin fabric of his boxers, giving his thick shaft a squeeze as she kisses the corner of his mouth. Then she tucks her small body into his, turning her full attention to the movement on the television screen.

Joel tucks her head under his chin, rumbling pleasantly as two bodies work their way onto the screen. It's them, of course, Tess dragging Joel into frame by the collar of his shirt, standing on her toes, kissing him fiercely. They stand at the foot of their bed. He has his big hands on her waist, playing with the hem of her shirt as he kisses her back with hunger.

Wedding bands flash in the low light of the video, newly adorned in the early days of the marriage. This memory fills Joel with a decidedly unsexy sort of warmth, but it quickly dissipates as the couple on screen begins to peel away clothing.

He feels like a voyeur of his own sex life, watching himself undress his wife. Watching her peel away his clothing in turn. It's hot. His cock twitches in his boxers.

First Joel's shirt, then Tess's, followed by her bra, the loss of which has his hands on her full chest in an instant. Cupping her breasts, tweaking her dusky nipples lightly in a way that makes her purr in appreciation.

Next she drops to her knees, the top of her head just in frame as she peels Joel's jeans down his thighs. The man on screen huffs, then groans. The man in bed, watching the scene unfold, realizes, as Tess's pretty head begins to bob, that she's sucking him off just out of frame.

The lack of visual is frustrating, but then present Tess curls tighter into his body, humming softly and dipping a small, delicate hand into his boxers. She strokes him in time with the bobbing of TV Tess's head.

Joel's eyelids flutter as he swells to full size in her palm. He turns his head to kiss her hair lightly, and cups her left breast over the thin material of her shift.

There is a wet sound, followed by a light gag, and Joel on the television groans, reaching down to card fingers through Tess's hair.

"Get up," he says, voice thick with reluctance. "Tessa, baby, get on the bed."

Slowly, she ambles back to her feet, chin shiny with spit. She wipes her face on the back of her hand and gives her husband a wicked grin.

On the bed, presently, Tess gives Joel's cock a squeeze, then pulls her hand back. She tucks her thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and begins to drag them down his legs as the couple on the TV position themselves nicely on the bed.

Joel grunts, enjoying the pleasant view of Tess's naked body from a 3/4th's view. Past Joel stands over her for a moment, stroking his thick cock and, also, enjoying the view of her; lithe, strong, but still supple and soft; Tess. His wife.

After pulling his boxers down past his toes, Tess pauses for a moment beside his hips. Giving the length of him a few reverent strokes before smacking the thick head lightly against her closed lips.

Joel sighs pleasurably, eyes darting between the screen and his present wife. TV Tess is laid out on her back, both hands thrust between her legs as she fucks herself on her fingers for Joel's enjoyment.

Wet sounds fill up the room. Joel's cock twitches as Tess drops it and climbs back up his body.

"We're hot," she laughs, and she kisses him thoroughly.

Joel grunts in agreement, hands sliding up her sides, gripping her waist.

When they part she mumbles against his mouth, "Want you to fuck me while we watch ourselves fuck, okay, big guy?"

And who is he to deny his beautiful wife her wants?

"Alright."

They position themselves on the bed just as TV Joel is climbing over Tess's body. Her legs are parted in a way that the wet slide of her cunt is just visible to the camera. And the sight of it makes present Joel's mouth go dry.

Tess positions herself at the foot of the bed, on her hands and knees. Still wearing that damnable shift, but Joel figures he'll rip it off of her while he fucks her. She wiggles her ass at him invitingly, and when, on his knees, he sidles up behind her and lifts the hem of the garment. He finds that she is wearing nothing underneath.

On the television Joel is slapping his cock teasingly against her cunt. But in the present moment Joel has little patience for such foreplay. He slides a few thick fingers through his wife's waiting folds, gathering up her wetness before sliding those digits between his lips, tasting her.

Watching over her shoulder, Tess groans.

But the a loud moan from the television has both of their attentions. Joel, angled so the camera has visual on his long, veiny shaft, has pressed the thick tip of himself into Tess's pussy. Her hips wriggle on the sheets and she groans, panting.

"Easy, baby," TV Joel coos, taking her waist in hand, then, with a single pump of his powerful hips, he sinks in to the hilt, hips clapping loudly against his wife's.

Present Tess giggles, fingers working the sheets like a cats claws, "C'mon, Texas."

Joel puffs, not wanting to be outdone by his past self, and presses the fat head of his dick against Tess's tight opening. She mewls as he presses in, taking his time piling in inch-by-thick-inch. She's so hot, tight and wet around him. Every time feels like the first time with his Tessa.

On the screen Joel begins to fuck Tess hard, giving her little time to adjust to his size and heft. He grunts like an animal, grips her hips and pounds sharp little sounds past her lips.

Present Joel pauses for a moment, both sets of eyes entranced by the rough sex unfolding on the screen before them. Tess wets her lips, glancing back at her husband. He feels her walls tighten and flutter around him divinely.

"Fuck, Joel. Keep up," she goads.

And that is all the encouragement he needs to turn his attention away from the television and focus entirely on the woman he's currently inside of.

He begins to work his hips in tight, fast pulls, clapping against her ass in sharp fast sounds that fill up the room along with Tess's panting and his occasional grunt of pleasure. The sounds from the television speakers double the erotic symphony that clouds the space.

TV Joel loses any sense of performance for the camera. He lays his body over Tess, cloaking her, hiding her away in a way that is singularly possessive, but also deeply erotic in its own right. He laces their fingers together, kisses her hard on the mouth as his hips continue to clap into hers.

"Look," Joel exhales, and he leans over Tess's body, grabs her face, forces her to watch as they fuck on screen. "Look how much I love you."

Tess whimpers, pressing her ass back onto his dick harder. Her walls tightening up ever so slightly.

"Keep watchin'," Joel commands. "Watch while I fuck you."

Tess heaves a half-sob of pleasure and he reaches down her front, hiking her shift up around her hips and finding her clit with practiced ease.

Television Joel pulls back, lifting his chest off of Tess and leaning back on his haunches. He has her hips lifted a few inches off the bed, and he seems to become aware of the camera again because he angles their bodies so the lens has a clear view of his dick plundering her. Wetness shining along his shaft with each rough thrust.

"Look at that," Joel swallows thickly, eyes locked on the screen, cock beginning to twitch, balls going tight against his body. "Look at how we fit together, Tessa."

Tess nods frantically in agreement, "Fuck, Joel, feels so good."

His fingers move with frantic rhythm against her clit, and he feels her body stiffening up beneath him.

TV Joel lets out a staggered groan, hips beginning to falter in their rhythm, "Fuck, baby, I'm gonna come."

Tess replies, voice frantic, body writhing on the sheets with her own impending orgasm, "Inside, do it inside."

With a huff, present Joel leans back, shoulders rolling as their hips clap, losing all rhythm, "Whaddaya say, Tessa... you want it inside?"

Tess nods frantically, pushing back against him, fingers curled like talons into the sheets. Her eyes on entranced on the screen as her past self arches and comes with a long, protracted groan. Past Joel's balls slap lewdly against her rear as he shouts and follows suit. Rivulets of pearly white cum string along his shaft as he fucks her through it.

"Yes," she pleads. "Give it to me, Joel."

Since the main event on the screen has concluded, and the couple there is now resorted to gentle kisses and soft, cooing words. Joel leans forward over Tess's body as his hips slam into hers. He wraps his big hand in her hair and forces her cheek down into the sheets, bringing her body to an angle that allows him to fuck deeper.

Tess wails, eyelids fluttering as white hot pleasure wells and overflows inside of her, wetness gathering around his imposing shaft as he delivers a few penultimate thrusts then seats himself and comes with a low groan.

The screen flickers to blackness.

"Holy fuck," Tess exhales, rubbing her sweaty face into the sheets. "Holy fucking shit, Joel."

He has a hand planted on the small of her back, and gives a few more lazy thrusts before his dick is too sensitive and soft to fuck any longer.

"Still got that camcorder," he murmurs softly as he pulls out of her in a rush of white. "'could make another-

Tess pops up and tackles him playfully back onto the sheets, she kisses him long and slow, then mutters against his mouth, eyes hooded with desire, "Yeah, yeah I think that's a fine idea."

Joel laughs and kisses her cheek.

[gukyi]

in the frosty air | a jjk drabble

summary: two weeks ago you and your roommate slept together. which would be fine, if you knew you both felt the same about each other. but you don’t. and now it’s christmas, and jungkook is still gorgeous and gentle and wonderful and here, and and you don’t really know what to do about that.

{college!au, roommates!au}

pairing: jungkook x reader genre: this is just an angst train tbh, but it has a happy ending! word count: 1.6k warnings: mentions of past alcohol consumption, this centers around everyone’s favorite capitalist holiday, being sad in the wintertime a/n: OHHHHHHHHHH *internet breaks* anyway yeah i’m back baby!!! here’s a little drabble to celebrate because i can’t help myself when it comes to jungkook. love me or we both go down coming soon!

“This Christmas is pretty fucking lame, isn’t it?”

You whip around at the sound of his voice. “Oh, hey. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I figured,” Jungkook chuckles, bending his head down as he crawls through the open window to join you on the fire escape. The temperature is freezing and the wind is stinging your skin, but it didn’t really feel right to be spending tonight inside. “Saw the window open. Thought you might be here.”

“Yeah. I was probably gonna head inside soon, though.” In the hopes that you would be curled up in your bedroom before Jungkook even got home. Seeing him lately has been hard. “How did your final go?”

“It was alright.” You don’t have to keep looking at him to feel Jungkook taking a seat next to you, crossing his legs over each other as he stares out into the city below you. It snowed a few days ago, and the sidewalks are still covered in that dirty slush that always lingers, wet and cold and black from car tires. Just being beside you makes your heart race, makes your chest tighten. “I was pretty stressed out about it, but then I just sort of remembered that I did my best and that was all I could do, you know?”

“That’s good.” You wish you had that mindset. You spend days studying for an exam and once it’s over, you spend days dwelling on all the things you might have gotten wrong. It’s a philosophy you apply to most aspects of your life. Why you did the thing you did. Why doing the thing you did was the worst thing you could have done. How you will recover from it. If you even will. 

Jungkook sighs. You turn to look at him, just briefly, glance at his side figure, and notice he’s wearing nothing but a giant zip-up hoodie. Isn’t he cold? “It doesn’t really feel like Christmas.”

“Yeah.” You don’t have anything else to say to that. It doesn’t. Which is a damn shame, because you and Jungkook spent the entire beginning of this month turning your tiny, two-bedroom apartment into a winter wonderland. You got a tree to put up next to your TV and decorated with the weirdest ornaments you could find. You hung up those dangly white Christmas lights on the balcony of your fire escape, the ones meant to look like icicles dripping from the metal railing. The radio has been playing nothing but Michael Bublé and Mariah Carey. And yet.

It’s not hard to wonder why this Christmas is such shit. Your spring internship fell through a week ago. Your parents rented a lake house and assumed you wouldn’t be coming with. All of your other friends have gone home already. And Jungkook, perhaps the last person in this whole goddamn city you would have wanted to spend time with, you can’t even bear to look at. 

“How did your finals go?” Jungkook asks, trying to keep the conversation going. 

“They were fine.” At least that torture is over. But living with Jungkook, seeing him every day and knowing that what you have done you can never undo--it’s endless. 

There’s silence. It’s like the two of you simultaneously have no idea and know exactly what to say. Like the words are lingering on the tips of your tongues but your lips are sealed shut. Opening them won’t be like a can of worms. It will be a dam, a waterfall of I’m sorrys and What nows. One week ago, in the heat of the night and in the haze of drink after drink, you and Jungkook made the worst mistake two roommates could ever make. 

“Are you going home this break?” You blurt out the words before you can stop yourself. 

Jungkook sighs. “I’m not sure.”

“It’s okay if you want to.” I get it. I’m not sure if I’d want to hang around and see me either. 

He shrugs. “I just haven’t decided yet.”

He knows that you’re staying. The two of you were so looking forward to spending Christmas together. Now look at you. Jungkook was the perfect roommate. Then everything changed. 

“Okay.” He’s probably just trying to figure out a way to let you down easy. 

Next to you, Jungkook rustles a hand through his pocket. “By the way, uh--I just remembered. I got you something.”

You don’t even have time to object before Jungkook is placing a small fabric box into your open palm, resting on your lap. You look down at the item, at the way your hand seems to envelop it. 

“You didn’t have to--”

“I wanted to.” Jungkook is firm in his response. “Besides, I got it a while ago. Figured now is as good a time as any to give it to you.”

There’s not really anything else to do except open it. Carefully, with trembling fingers, you pull off the lid. Inside sits a dainty silver locket resting amongst a pile of folded tissue paper. You gasp, your breath coming out in smoke in the cold winter air. 

“Oh my God, I--”

“I overheard you talking on the phone saying you wanted one,” Jungkook admits sheepishly. “I wanted to give it to you before I forgot.”

Fingers shaking from the cold, you pull the locket from the box. It dangles from its chain, a delicate little thing, barely the size of a fingerprint. Even on this hazy winter evening, it still catches the light.

For the first time tonight, you look up at him. His eyes are a swirling brown, a deep chocolate. They are unreadable. He offers a small, guarded smile your way, lips pink in the chilly air. “Thank you,” you tell him honestly. This is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for you. 

You can’t accept this without returning the favor. Wordlessly, you get up from the fire escape, rushing indoors for a moment as you grab your gift from your bedroom. It’s been sitting in there for at least two weeks now. You hold your hand behind your back as you make your way back to the fire escape, sitting down next to him once more. 

With a small flourish, you reveal your own present. They’re drumsticks. 

“For you,” you tell him, that same small grin on your face. “Since you’re always drumming on everything. Thought you could use something to do that with.”

Jungkook looks positively starstruck. He takes the sticks in his hands, feels the wood with his fingers, tracing over the logo at the bottom. You aren’t very well versed in the world of drum equipment, but your friend in the orchestra told you it was a good brand. 

“Wow, Y/N,” he says, mouth agape. “This is... this is the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever gotten me. Thank you.”

“Always.”

And that’s the truth, isn’t it? No matter what you do, no matter what you say, you will always be there to give Jungkook what he deserves. To make his life just the tiniest bit better. Doing thoughtful things for him has never required effort on your part. There is just a part of you that will do them, because he deserves it. Because he is so gentle, and loving, and kind, and wonderful. 

You sit there for a little while longer, relishing in the brief respite of your gift exchange. It’s softened the ice, warmed the air, broken the tension. Even if only a little. But it’s enough to keep you out here, sitting next to him. It’s enough to keep you from drifting away. 

“I don’t regret that night.”

The words feel like biting wind. 

“What?” You turn to him. 

“I don’t. I’d do it again. A thousand times over.” Jungkook is resolute. He looks at you, eyebrows furrowed in determination. 

“Jungkook, what happened that night--”

“Is something I’ll never forget,” he finishes. “Do you know how fucking long I had been waiting to do that? To hold you? Kiss you? To spend the night with you?”

Each syllable presses deeper into your chest, imprinting themselves on your heart. You stare back at him, too shocked to say anything at all. 

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same,” Jungkook adds on, quickly backtracking. “I sort of... got that message when I woke up that morning and you were gone. But I just wanted you to know that that night didn’t change anything about how I feel about you.”

Jungkook’s got it all wrong. You were the one who fucked up. You were the one whose feelings won’t change. “I thought you were the one who didn’t feel the same.”

Jungkook chuckles, this sad, forced cough. “Are you kidding? I’d do anything to relive that night. You’re my favorite person in this whole world, Y/N.”

If the weather were just a little bit warmer, if the wind wasn’t as dry, perhaps tears would fall. But instead, you blink back at him and it feels at once like your heart weighs a million pounds and nothing at all. “Me too,” you choke out. “I never want to be without you.”

Your fire escape is barely big enough for one person, let alone two, but that doesn’t stop Jungkook from reaching over and pulling you in, pressing a chilly kiss to your frozen lips, the heat of his mouth warming you up from the inside out. It’s cold tonight, yes. But Jungkook makes you feel like it’s summer all year long. 

You smile against his lips. They feel like home. They taste like peppermint lip balm and coffee and ice. 

“Do you want me to stay?” He asks. As if he was even thinking about going home anyway. 

“Yes,” you whisper back. 

It feels a lot more like Christmas now. 

“Then I’ll stay.”

↳ don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback! i missed you guys!

[mitsukui]

birthday suit | g.w.

Pairing: George Weasley x female reader.

Summary: your boyfriend, George Weasley, could never allow you to sleep without a birthday celebration ━ this is the third and final part of my ‘Good Girl’ series, so make sure you read ‘Good Girl’ (pt.1) and ‘Make It Cream’ (pt.2) as well!

Word Count: 4,2k.

Warnings: smut! Mentions of food, daddy kink, dirty talk, cum play, spit play, overstimulation, praise kink, lingerie kink (is that a thing?), use of toys, gagging, choking, finger sucking, pictures being taken with total consent.

Disclaimer: none of the pictures used in the edit below belong to me; I simply put them together.

A/N: this was so highly requested! I hope I can make justice to your requests and desires, my loves. Please, leave me some feedback if you feel like it! My askbox is open for your opinions, thoughts and requests. Thank you so much for your time and attention!  ♡

Masterlist!

The clock struck midnight, and his thin and pinkish lips curled up in a devious smirk. He was well aware of your dislike towards celebrating your birthday, but you had been acting like such a good girl that he just had to give you something to celebrate the special day.

Truth being told, he was deeply and eternally thankful for your existence and for your presence in his life. You had changed so many aspects of his old self, taught him so many new things, and provided him so many novel feelings and experiences. You were the love of his life, and nothing would be able to ever change that.

However, he had also discovered an unexplored side of him with your help: George Weasley was an utterly kinky man. And there was nothing that he fancied more than seeing you squirming under his touch, moaning his name, and covered in his cum.

So your birthday gift had to be obviously related to that.

Ever since the wondrous night when you dominated him in the middle of your kitchen, he had been holding himself back and gathering all of his desire for you. You still had shared intimate moments, but none of them had been as intense as the very first time you called him ‘daddy’. And you missed those moments.

You missed being dominated by him, you missed the feeling of his hands hitting your skin repeatedly, you missed hearing his degrading words, you missed the air being cut from your lungs because he was choking you.

Thanks Merlin things were about to change.

Focused on a few things related to work, you had your eyebrows furrowed and teeth pressed down onto your lower lip. Every now and then, you mumbled some words to yourself, and George adored how you did this whenever you were concentrated.

The way you were completely clueless about his plans was simply adorable to him.

“Princess?” His words came out through a soft and moderately low voice, but it was enough to end your trance and make you look at him.

When your eyes met his figure, you noticed he was holding two things: a small white box, and a black shopping bag. As a result, you sighed and gave him a disapproving look. The quill you were holding was put to rest on your desk and you ran a hand through your hair.

“How many times have we talked about this, George? You know I’d rather see it as a normal day, than as my birthday.”

The tall man continued taking small steps as you sustained your visible frustration towards him. Despite your sudden bad mood, his smirk never faltered.

“I know, I know. But I saw these bad boys and I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

You crossed your arms against your chest, the urge of punching him right in his handsome face burning inside you. With one of your eyebrows raised, you nodded shortly, signaling him to continue speaking.

“Don’t think of these as birthday gifts. Think they’re just gifts, because you’ve been a good girl for me.”

Unlike his smirk, you faltered. You blinked repeatedly and your arms fell to the sides of your body. Damn, you missed hearing those kinds of words. And he clearly noticed it, because he stepped even closer to you.

“You’ve been a good girl for me, haven’t you?” His dark eyes glistened with a deep, deep hunger, something which you had almost forgotten all about. It was so easy for him to read you. He knew exactly what those slightly parted lips and discontinuous breath meant. “Such a good girl for daddy.”

And then, just like that, you were wrapped around his finger. However, it was not time for you to have your entertainment yet. Both of you still needed to wait some more, and he was willing to make you suffer a bit.

“Let’s see what daddy’s got you, hmm?”

He carefully positioned the white box in your own hands, gesturing for you to open it and, when you did, a chuckle slipped out of your lips effortlessly.

Inside of that first box, there was a small square of strawberry cake, splattered with condensed milk and tiny raspberries. The sight was mouthwatering, though he gave you no time to think much about it.

Two of his slender fingers ran over the creamy liquid, capturing some of it. In a quick movement, he shoved his fingers into your mouth, which caused your tongue to automatically swirl around them. A growl got caught in his throat, the feeling of that type of intimacy being missed erupting in his chest.

There was enjoyment in that act for you too, your long lost submissiveness returning to you bit to bit. Your eyelashes fluttered until you closed your eyes, and you opened your mouth a bit wider, allowing his fingers to go in deeper.

He showed no mercy upon you, quickly gaining a fast pace shoving his fingers in and out your mouth. Occasional gags echoed in the silent room and saliva was already dripping down your chin. Funnily enough, the condensed milk still danced around your tongue and his fingers.

“Don’t swallow it.”

He was quick to order you and even quicker to kneel down in front of you. Confusion played with your senses for a bit while the liquid remained still inside your mouth. “Spit it in my mouth.”

A series of tingles played with your core and it was almost as if you had mistaken his words for something else. However, he stuck his tongue out and stared intensely at you, his gaze never wandering to somewhere else.

So you obeyed. You placed both of your hands on the sides of his face, leaned down just a bit, and brought him closer to you. He held on your thighs as the liquid was transferred into his mouth, his nails being pressed against the soft skin.

Once George had all the liquid inside his mouth, he swallowed it and released the pressure he had created on your thighs with his hands. He stood up, towering over you and whispering how much of a whore you are. His thumb ran across your parted lips while you resisted the urge to ask him if he could fuck your mouth relentlessly.

“Now, princess, there’s one more for you to open. We can eat your cake later, alright?” He handed you the black bag this time and, already feeling eager enough, you opened it in a heartbeat.

Inside of the bag, there was a lingerie set. The upper piece was covered in a light pink shade, and the top cups were adorned with a transparent fabric with red hearts on it. There was a pink see-through thong there as well, to complete the set. However, those were not the only things in there.

Resting insignificantly on the corner of the bag, your eyes captured the sight of something yet unknown. Your fingers grazed the surface of the object until you finally got a hold of it and were able to identify what it was: a vibrator.

You looked up at him for answers, and that same smirk was back on. You hated him for it, for how good he looked at that moment, and for how wet you already were.

“You’ve found my favorite part of it all, darling. This little guy”, George took the vibrator from your hands, and fiddled with it. His hand looked so big compared to it that it was hypnotizing. “is gonna be inside you for the entire day tomorrow. Do you understand it?”

His voice assumed that old dominant tone and you almost collapsed right in front of him, begging to be fucked. You nodded along his words. “This little part is gonna be brushing against your clit, vibrating from time to time.” His index finger ran over the toy slowly, accentuating all of its features. “And this one is gonna be inside of you, shoved up real deep in your cunt.”

Although you had not even reached your orgasm yet, you swore you were seeing stars. You could feel your panties covered in a sticky mess due to the wetness he had caused with so little.

“But let’s not get excited now, shall we? There’s a long night of sleep ahead of us. Go to bed now, I’ll be right there with you.”

Dizziness clouded your mind and you could only obey George, your pleasure reaching a point that was so high that you even forgot what you were doing before any of that started.

You fell asleep together that night, and you slept like a baby. In the next morning, he woke you up with a tenderness which was soon destroyed by his fingers playing with your clit, stretching your pussy lips and shoving the vibrator inside you, exactly like he had promised last night.

And exactly like he had told you to, you stayed with it throughout the day.

He told you he had put a spell on it that allowed him to control it even when you were distant from each other. With a simple flick of his wand, he would be able to make it vibrate or make it stop. If he whispered a few words, the vibrator could even thrust in and out of you. Was not magic amazing?!

In a nutshell, he was able to torture you whenever and however he wanted. And that’s what he did.

He started out slowly, gently almost. The very first vibrations came in the morning, when you had just started working. It was like a ticklish touch, giving you a fluttering pleasure. You gasped once you felt it, shocked by how suddenly it had reached you. However, he only allowed you to feel that for brief moments, teasing you recklessly in random moments during the day.

When the evening at last arrived and it was the end of your shift, you were nothing but a terrible shaking and furtively moaning mess. Warmness controlled your cheeks, your legs trembled and you could not wait to be touched after so many vibrations and thrusts.

But the real torture met you when you apparated back to the apartment you shared with George.

He was waiting for you, sat on the leather couch in the living room. His Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes’ uniform hugged every inch of his muscular body ravishingly, but what really got you was the way he stood up as soon as he laid eyes on you.

It only took him a second to notice your submissive and ready-to-be-pleased-and-please condition, and another mere second to crash his lips against yours. He kissed you with a hunger you thought he would never feel again for you, hands showing no hesitation to explore your body, and squeeze any parts he was crazy about.

As he kissed you, you felt the same vibrations from earlier but, this time, you were free to moan. So you did. You opened your mouth while he kissed you and moaned loudly, instantly begging him to fuck you through whispers mixed with whimpers.

George led you to your shared bedroom and, when he pushed you down onto the bed, he chuckled and ran his hand over his jawline, the bulge on his pants starting to bother him.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you did to me the last time. I’m going to fucking destroy you tonight, birthday girl.”

That was enough to make you moan and spread your legs for him. In the blink of an eye, he undressed you, leaving only the lingerie he had gotten you on.

His dark eyes studied your body and, amongst so many lustful feelings, a pang of love exploded in his chest. You were so beautiful, and he was so honored to openly see how much you loved and trusted him. And, at that moment, the certainty that you were the only one for him burned fiercely inside him.

Still with your legs spread open for him and few clothing on, you ran your fingers over your clothed intimacy, the vibrator now feeling a bit like a bother, once you would rather have his cock filling you up.

As soon as he was close enough to you on the bed, his fingers removed your panties and he was blinded by the way your juices from the entire day were displayed on the fabric.

“Just look at this…” He shot you a disapproving looking, however, on the inside, he was far beyond turned on. “I bet you came so many times, didn’t you, princess?”

You nodded at his words, lips pressed together. You could feel he was about to degrade you, which made an enormous fire appear on your loins. His words, however, turned out to be the entire opposite of what you were expecting.

“What a good girl you’ve been for daddy. I see you’ve kept my little gift on the entire day, right?”

Instead of answering him, you chose to take your legs up to your chest this time, all of you being exposed for his eyes to feast on. You used all of your strength and attempted to push out the toy, but it was useless; it only moved a few inches.

“So pretty, baby girl. I bet you feel really sensitive right now, yeah? Even a bit swollen, perhaps.” George palmed his erection, precum leaking from the tip and creating a small spot on his underwear. “And I bet you taste really good.”

With this final sentence, he brought your panties up to his lips and gave it a long and slow lick. The scene unraveling in front of your eyes caused your wall to clench around the vibrator.

While he licked your juices off your panties and looked at you the entire time, needy moans were the only sounds coming out of your lips. You had never imagined he would do something like that. Although it was something extraordinarily new for you, you still enjoyed it somehow, and made sure your brain was recording every piece of it. It would come in handy whenever you two were apart.

“So, so sweet, princess. That’s my good girl.” He leaned down and pecked your lips quickly, soon loosening his tie. “How about we take this off now?”

He ran his fingers over the toy, putting some extra pressure on the part that was close to your clit. In slow and teasing movements, he pulled the vibrator out of you, a string of your own juices still making a connection between you.

The action forced you to buckle your hips up, desperation and lust being the only things rushing through your veins then. You were indeed sensitive, just like he had predicted, but you still wanted to feel his lips, fingers and cock playing with you.

“Can you, please, fuck me, daddy? I’ve been waiting all day long…”

Your voice broke his trance in a billion of pieces, and the way he looked at you was slightly dangerous. You loved his eyes whenever he looked at you like that. And he loved looking at you like that, because it meant he was about to fuck your brains out.

Without any words, he used one of his hands to pull your chin down and open your lips, and the other to shove your recently licked panties into your mouth.

“You’re gonna be real good for daddy now, alright, princess?” The same hand he had used to make you gag on your own underwear was now pressing the sides of your neck and cutting all the existing air in your body.

You rolled your eyes to the back of your head and your moans were muffled by the fabric in your mouth. While still choking you and eating you up with his eyes, his free hand travelled to your pussy and he went straightforward to your clit.

“You’re soaking wet, babe. Aren’t you a desperate whore?” His fingers moved in circular gestures and they were increasing in speed second after second. “My desperate whore, though.”

Eyes shut tightly, eyebrows furrowed together, and tension building in your lower stomach area, you whimpered and nodded at everything he was doing at that moment.

George was crazy about the way your wetness painted his fingers, the way he had been the one to cause all that, the way you were indeed slightly swollen yet begging for more, and the way you were entirely his. The entire situation was almost like a mirage to his eyes, and his secret devotion for you could not get any bigger at that moment. He lusted over you, but he also loved you more than anything else in the entire universe.

Soon enough, another orgasm washed over you as tiny tears escaped your eyes. Sounds that resembled screams quite a lot escaped your lips, but did not make very far as for echoing in the room.

George’s touch became gentle again and he allowed you to breathe properly again. You opened your eyes and found him smiling at you, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone and words of praise escaping his lips in whispered notes.

The mix of feelings both of you had always felt during these moments was something really out of this world, and how he could so easily switch from being dominant to being loving only made you feel more submissive to him.

“Is it okay if daddy fucks you now, princess? Do you think you can take it?” This time, however, you could not even nod. Pleasure was still sending waves of shock down your spine and you needed some extra time to recover. So you only blinked in response, tilting your head to the side and pressing your face against his hand.

“You remember our safe word, yeah? And you know that you can use it anytime, right? I’ll stop it right away, darling.”

You closed your eyes once more, humming in response. Deep down inside, you wondered if you could handle another round. You were exhausted already. Being teased the entire day was no easy task, and being teased by George Weasley was enough to make anyone drown in lust.

However, something inside of you wanted to go that extra notch. You knew he wanted it, too, and you would do anything to pleasure him. And, on top of all that, it had been the best birthday you had ever had, so why not make it memorable?

As you remained silent, he pressed gentle kisses to your temples and forehead, fingers running over your nipples through your delicate and almost innocent looking bra. Whatever answer came from you, it would not matter much to him. He was happy to stay with you like that, completely ignoring his own needs and focusing solely on you and what was best for you.

But you opened your eyes after a while, a new energy bursting inside you and that same old crave for him still burning as strongly as ever. You and George exchanged a long stare and both of you just knew it.

You knew you were respected and taken care of by your soul mate, and he knew he had found everything he had always looked for.

He undressed as you watched wordlessly, your underwear now soaked by your own saliva. A few moments later, he lined himself up with your entrance, teasing you a bit more by rubbing his shaft against your incredibly sensitive cunt.

“Don’t forget to use our safeword if you need it, princess.”

And, with that, he buried himself inside you. You arched your back and cried out instantly, the feeling of finally being full of him giving you everything you had been longing for the entire day. He got a grip on your hip bones and started pumping in and out of you slowly.

Your walls felt so tight around him, repeatedly clenching his member, and your warmness was not of much help either. He had spent the day in a torturous manner as well, imagining if you were enjoying what he decided to do with you. Images of you taking deep breaths from time to time, covering your mouth, and gasping had popped into his mind in the worst moments, and it had been hard for him to focus on anything else other than the moment he would see you again.

George fucked you in a romantic and patient way. He adjusted to your needs, paying attention to your body and your reactions. His thrusts were steady and deep, dripping with the great devotion he felt for you.

But when he felt his own orgasm was approaching, he sustained a faster and sloppier pace, your name leaving his lips like a mantra and his fingers focusing on your clit once more.

Unison moaning filled the air hovering above the two of you, and you felt you were close as well. It did not take long until you were coming undone for him and him only, nails digging onto his forearms and more small tears streaming down your cheeks.

George’s moans became louder and he knew it was time. While you still trembled and gasped for air, he slipped out of you, but kept on stroking himself. He violently pulled your panties out of your mouth and, once you understood what he was about to do, you stuck your tongue out.

His warm seed fell on your face, painting your tongue and bits of your chin as well. He breathed heavily, his hand still stroking himself and your name leaving his lips.

You somehow managed to pull off an innocent and submissive look, despite the exhaustion that now took over your body, while moving your tongue and savoring the way he had again made you his. With your eyes stuck on him, you whimpered and waited for his permission to swallow the white ropes on your tongue.

“Fucking Merlin, princess.” George was sweaty and a tad exhausted as well, but the sight of you with your lips covered in his cum was too amazing to be wasted. “Hold on a sec.”

He left you like that, tongue stuck out and cum continuously releasing its flavor in your mouth. And, when he returned, he had an instant camera in hands. Your eyes widened and, once more, he was surprising you with things he had never done before.

“Make a really pretty pose for daddy.” Sweet chuckles were captured by his ears, which only caused him to chuckle too and tell you, again, how much of a good girl you were for him.

You stuck your tongue out even further, and your fingers were brought up to your bra. You rolled up the piece and your breasts were then visible. Still using your fingers, you spread his cum around your lips and chin area, and even took a bit of it to both of your nipples. It was enough to make him hard again.

“Get ready now.” Right before he snapped the picture, you played with his cum, a string of the liquid connecting your tongue and your middle finger. He groaned at the scene, internally swearing he could fuck you until the daylight.

Once the picture was out and you could see it perfectly, you swallowed his cum, but enjoyed feeling the remains of it on your skin. For a brief while, he selfishly stared at the little square on his hand, mesmerized by the way the picture moved and had captured you being so dirty. His fingertips ran over his sensitive tip and he threw his head back, but he was quick to return to reality.

“Do you wanna see it?”

You nodded at his words, body turning towards him. George was someone who managed to look good even after exhaustion and huge waves of pleasure. His eyelids looked somewhat heavy, and he still found a bit of difficulty to breathe properly. Love overflew from your heart and you were unable to hold a small smile back.

His body fell down next to yours, against the white sheets of your bed, and his head rested on his pillow. He showed you the picture and, strangely enough, you loved watching yourself like that. Your self-esteem skyrocketed.

“Do you like it, daddy?”

“I love it, princess. I guess it’s my new favorite picture of yours. Being such a good slut for daddy, huh? Covered in his cum and showing it off.”

The picture was put down and your tired body was brought closer to his. He pressed his lips against yours in a sweet, slow and sloppy kiss, a huge contrast compared to the way he had treated you throughout your birthday.

He broke the kiss after a minute or two, and studied all of your features. The picture was obviously mesmerizing for him, but the reality he had created with you was much, much better.

“You’re the love of my life. Thank you for giving me this opportunity to celebrate your birthday with you.” As he whispered his confession, you placed your hands on his chest and scratched his freckled skin gently, something you know he adored. He peppered your face with delicate kisses and then proceeded to speak again, his caring nature slipping through the cracks of his dominant self.

“Happy birthday, princess. Words will never be enough to fully express my love for you.”

Celebrating your birthday next year did not sound too much of a bad idea, after all.

Tag list! ❤�� @efyra @writingsomewrongs @kellsslut @pineapplesandpinas @fiction-is-the-new-reality @hufflepuff5972 @amourtentiaa @emmaev @asthmax @anchoeritic​ @eunoia-kth​ @asimpfortheweasleys @wand3ringr0s3​ @superbturtlemakerathlete​ @darthwheezely​

[sserpente]

A/N: Requests from @watermelon1568, @lokisgirl5, @cocoamoonmalfoy and anon. This is so fluffy and maybe a little silly, but in a good way! Enjoy everyone and have a good Christmas Eve! ♥

Words: 2635 Warnings: so much fluff, mentions of blood, implied smut

Additional NSFW warning: This Imagine contains implied period sex, just in case this is something you are uncomfortable with.

Loki might be a tiny tad OOC in this one because the requests were just so fluffy but I did my best! Enjoy!

-

Loki sighed. There you were again, running around with a list in hand looking much like the one Santa Clause had been carrying in that Christmas film Thor had forced him to watch. For the past few days, weeks almost, actually, you had been collecting everyone’s Christmas wishes like a squirrel collecting nuts for the winter. Even he knew everyone’s Christmas wishes by now. You had truly asked everybody, even the cleaning women who came to tidy up the entire Avengers facility once a week.

Loki could not quite put his finger on what it was that fascinated him so much about you—all he did know was that he too wanted to get you a Christmas present, if only just to see the surprised look on your face. He almost snorted. It was disappointment he felt, disappointment and envy because he longed to be the one to put a smile on your face on Christmas Day—and he didn’t even celebrate Christmas, not really.

Furthermore, he had not failed to notice how you avoided his presence like you were playing cat and mouse. You had, much to his surprise, asked him for his Christmas wish too the other day, all timid and unable to look him in the eye and Loki had been so taken aback he had not known an answer. The God of Mischief was many things but he was not blind and not stupid—he was perceptive. Villain or not, you were into him—and he was going to get your confession.

Smirking to himself, and determined to put an end to playing tag, he followed you into the empty hallway on your way back to your room, pushed past you and then unceremoniously blocked your way.

“O-Oh… hey, Loki.” You chirped.

“Are you in a hurry?”

“I, uh, actually, um… n-no?”

“Well, you did ask me what I wanted for Christmas, did you not?”

“Oh!” Your face lit up. “Oh, yes! Yes, what would you like?”

Loki thought about it for a moment. He needed an answer fast to not look like a moron now.

His lips parted. “I do miss writing with a quill and ink. Could you acquire a set for me? Surely, they are still being used on Midgard.”

Geez! How had you not thought about that? Loki truly was a scholar with all those books in his room, and that was a marvellous idea. “Y-yes, of course!” You responded, nodding eagerly in the process. But when you moved forward, Loki, instead of letting you pass now, put his hand against the wall so you were trapped.

“Hmm… Is there a particular reason you always get so nervous in my presence?” He asked. Your eyes widened. Fuck.

“Y-you… you tried to… you almost took over t-the p-planet, you k-know.” You lied quickly.

“Ah, yes. Of course… that must be it.” He responded with a knowing smirk. Oh, fuck. Did he have to be so god damn gorgeous?

“You never said what it was you want for Christmas, my dear.” He said then, blue eyes locking with yours. Your heart skipped a beat—no, actually, you were wondering whether it was still beating at all. You did have a Christmas wish, of course and you wanted to do backflips all across the hallway that Loki of all people took an interest in what you’d like—or maybe he just wanted to make conversation. Keep calm.

“Oh… it’s silly. Not really possible.” You replied sheepishly, gasping when he hooked a finger under your chin to gently force you to look up at him. He was definitely going to be the death of you.

“Tell me.” He urged you on.

“The only thing I… I’ve always wanted to have a dog. A loyal non-human companion, someone to cuddle with when it’s cold and who will never judge me but love me just the way I am… and they are just so cute! But that’s not possible,” You repeated quickly. “Imagine an innocent little puppy when everything’s on fire and another alien race attacks the planet!”

Loki hummed. Dogs were not common on Asgard. He himself had had a pet snake growing but released it into the wild after Thor and his friends had repeatedly stolen it to play silly and dangerous games. He could see why you kept that wish to yourself. Living among the Avengers, a dog might get in the way during missions—he did not doubt it would be helpful and capable of tearing off their enemies’ faces but your worry for it would distract you from a fight.

Still… perhaps there was a way. A smirk grew on his lips and your flustered reaction to it pleased him, making it grow wider.

-

It was early Christmas morning when Loki returned. It had taken him all of his wit and cunningness to leave the Avengers facilities unattended and without anyone asking suspicious questions but he had succeeded. The wooden box he was carrying—with many holes in them so the little creature could breathe—Loki sneaked across the hallway and past your room to hide his present for you in his own, already imagining your priceless reaction… was he hoping for a hug? Oh, he was. When was the last time anyone had hugged him? Perhaps you would, upon receiving the fluffy little creature in the box.

The dog winced. “Shh! Quiet, you silly little creature, you are going to wake up your mother!”

It was then he heard an ear-piercing scream coming from your room. He nearly dropped the box, turning on his heel to storm into your room like a tornado annihilating everything in its path. Your bed was empty, the sheets ruffled. There was a small beam of light coming from your bathroom—the closer he came, the more he could make out the rustling of fabric.

“I bloody hate being a woman…” You murmured to yourself, making the God of Mischief frown. Alarmed, he stepped closer and entered the bathroom without knocking—he barely remembered to set the box aside to draw his daggers if need be.

You were sat on the toilet, your white Christmas pyjamas with candy canes and gingerbread men on them soiled with blood. Loki’s eyes widened. There was blood on the floor too… and on your fingers.

His fingers were itching to materialise his weapons, yet he could see no enemy who could have attacked you. You gasped when he barged into the room, concealing your nakedness from the waist down with some toilet paper.

“What in the nine happened to you?” The amount of blood was almost concerning for a mortal. Had someone surprised you in your sleep? Who had managed to break into the Avengers facilities in the first place?

“How did you get in here? No wait, you’re awake already? Umm… Merry Christmas?” You swallowed. Talk about embarrassing yourself in front of the God of Mischief.

“We need to get you to a healer… a doctor, that is what you call them here?” You stared at him for a moment.

The last thing he expected was for you to burst out laughing. The whole situation was so hilarious you even forgot to be nervous around him for once.

“Oh, Loki… I’m okay, I’m not dying, I promise. I got surprised by my period, is all.”

“Your… period? Your period… as in your menstruation cycle?”

“Yes. Do women on Asgard not have that?”

“They do but… not like this.” Heavens, he felt stupid. He had thought you were dying, openly shown his concern… and you had laughed.

“Loki…” It was like you had heard his thoughts. “Thank you for checking on me. I was just being frustrated but I promise I’m okay.” You had probably disturbed his sleep but the fact that Loki cared enough to come to your help, admitting that just perhaps… he actually liked you. “W-would you mind?” Loki raised his brows, his lips parting.

“Yes, of course.”

He turned around for you to get dressed again (never before had you been more grateful for the pile of more or less dirty laundry on the floor next to your toilet) and nodded, only realising now that he had indeed just proved that one way or another, he had taken a liking into you. It was then the dog winced again just outside the bathroom door.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. In fact, I shall leave you… how did you get out of that box?” Eager and curious, the puppy must have somehow knocked its wooden box over. When Loki looked behind him, he found the lid on the floor, the young dog hurtling towards you.

“Oh my god! Hey there, little guy! Where did you come from?” You giggled when the dog attempted to jump up on you. You picked it up, grinning when it licked your face. “Aren’t you adorable?”

Loki pursed his lips. Oh, great. Now he was getting the hug. He furrowed his brows. Heavens, this was an innocent little puppy. Against all reason, he already loved the little guy with all his heart himself, how could he possibly feel jealous?

“You were not supposed to see it yet. I was going to put the box under the Christmas tree.”

“R-really? You mean… he’s for me? Oh, Loki… but h-how? I mean… I love him. But how can I keep him safe here? Is that really a good idea?”

“Well… he is, in fact, not a normal dog.” Loki remarked.

Your eyes widened. “What does that mean?”

“Dogs are rare on Asgard but there are indeed a few traders who raise them. This unprepossessing creature has a life expectancy five times as high as Midgardian dogs—not to mention it is stronger, more intelligent and much like Thor and me, more resistant to pain and injury.”

“You’re a superdog then, aren’t you? Yes, you are, such a good boy. I need a name for him.” You announced. Loki raised his arms. That would be your decision. His pet snake had never had a name. “I’ll think of something.” Smiling, you stepped forward and kissed Loki on the cheek whose lips parted in surprise.

“Thank you so much. I didn’t think you would… why did you?” He said nothing in response. He couldn’t possibly tell you that he wanted a hug and that the only person he wanted it from was you. Your lips on his face had already felt like liquid fire, warming him from the inside out. Heavens, what was wrong with him? You were a mortal. He couldn’t possibly like you this much.

“You should go back to bed.” He said after a while, clearing his throat. “It is still early.” You nodded. He was right. Besides, you and your little puppy needed to get to know each other.

Needless to say, however, you couldn’t fall asleep again after you had gotten changed into new pyjamas and then cuddled with your new pet. Loki had gotten you a dog. Why? He owed you nothing, and quite on the contrary, you highly doubted Loki would even bother to get the rest of the Avengers a Christmas gift.

-

In the meantime, Loki himself returned to his room, shaking his head in the process. He was being ridiculous. The other day in the hallway, he had still managed to remain composed but the more time he spent around you, the softer he became for you.

He had been worried for you upon seeing all that blood and it had scared him. Love and affection weren’t exactly emotions he got to experience a lot and then for a human of all species…

He realised with a start just what it was that was happening to him. He was courting you, wasn’t he? He had not done anything alike in years, the last time for a beautiful Asgardian woman who had turned out to take more interest in Thor than him.

Loki was no expert on dating. He had never had the need for it… not until you. A growl escaped his lips. How dangerous for his already shattered heart would it be to give in to his desire and make you smile again? To feel your lips against his skin once more?

Another growl. He was addicted to you already. Jumping up from the bed, he left the facilities again, this time to head a few miles west. Frigga had always said that love goes through the stomach. He might as well try that strategy out.

-

About two hours later, there was a soft knock on your door. You stirred, eyes fluttering open. Your puppy—you had still not thought of a name for it—had curled up in your arms, still sleeping soundly.

“Yes?”

The door opened to reveal Loki. With a smirk, he produced something from behind his back—a box with the logo of your favourite pancake shop on it. Your jaw dropped.

“Merry Christmas.” He announced.

“Oh my goodness… Loki, you are so sweet.”

The God of Mischief raised an eyebrow. “Sweet is not exactly what I was hoping for.” He replied, albeit smiling.  You sat up carefully to not wake the puppy, accepting the pancakes all the while licking your lips hungrily. Now that was one way to start Christmas Day.

“How about considerate?” You tried again, smiling up at him sweetly. Loki smirked, hands clasped behind his back. He almost appeared a little… awkward.

You longed to ask him why he was doing all this but then again… you could think of only one answer. It couldn’t possibly be, no?

“Care to share? They are really good.”

“It appears so. The entire restaurant smelled like a sugar realm.”

“Is that a thing?”

“No.”

“Oh… pity.” He chuckled.

Twenty minutes in which you silently ate with relish went by, the puppy still sleeping peacefully in your bed, with you unable to stop petting it all the time. Once you had finished the very last bite, you simply dropped the empty takeaway-packaging on the floor.

“Thank you so much, Loki. I couldn’t have imagined better Christmas presents.”

He nodded, watching your every move as you moved in to give him another kiss on the cheek.

This time though, in just this moment, Loki turned his head to face you again, your lips landing on his instead. You gasped, even more so when he deepened the kiss, moving his mouth gently against yours, tongue slipping between your lips to taste you. Oh my god. Loki was kissing you. Loki was kissing you!

It felt like a demon from Muspelheim had set his body on fire, from the inside out. Loki was ablaze. Unable to stop himself, his arms came up to pull you closer into his body until you were straddling him, your fingers digging into his clothes. You both knew where this was going.

There was no doubt you were going to wake up the little dog when you pushed him back on the mattress, overcome with a sudden confidence and hunger that made you feel invincible. Loki did not object. The only reason you hesitated was the fact you remembered just then that you were on your period. Reluctantly, you pulled away.

“Loki… maybe we should do this… another time. My… period, remember?”

“A little bit of blood will not stop me from ravishing you, my dear.” Your heart skipped a beat.

“A-are you sure?”

Loki nodded slowly and intimately, his blue gaze never leaving yours.

Next thing you knew, the both of you lost all of your layers of clothing one by one. Scratch making a list for Christmas presents for your friends to make them happy… you couldn’t quite believe that Loki actually reciprocated your affection for him. This certainly was the most amazing Christmas yet.

-

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either for caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

[chainhead]

ink

leon has tattoos. ethan was never informed.

leon/ethan. mild swearing. smug leon, done-with-life ethan. fluffy!

It's fine. It's fine. This is totally fine.

Is it weird? Is he weird? God, he must be weird. It's nothing to get this riled up over, yet here he is, peeking over at Leon every now and then to catch a quick glimpse of the ink that spirals up his forearm.

Ethan bites his lip. Twirls the pen in his hand and clicks the button on top a few times, his desk work momentarily forgotten.

No, this isn't normal. Then again, neither is Leon with tattoos, so how is one supposed to think? React? He's been pretty good about hiding his (admittedly disturbing) attraction to the special agent; but things like this… well, they're on the same level as glasses, or piercings. A small change that—for a select few—can turn their entire world on an axis.

How far up do they go?

Does he have more?

When did he get them, and what do they symbolize?

"Ethan?"

The blonde startles, blue eyes flickering up in embarrassment.

Leon blinks at him. "What's your damage?"

Oh, Jesus Christ. "Nothing, sorry. Just a little spacey… today."

"I'll say."

Ethan hurriedly scoots closer to his desk, quickly turning his attention back to the papers that scatter across it. He isn't even sure what he's supposed to be doing with these, or why he even got assigned to deal with them, but if things keep going the way they are, he's gonna be here all fucking night.

Ethan frowns. And then he hesitates, realization dawning on him slowly that… hey, doesn't Leon work crazy late hours, too?

No.. no, no. He's on the clock. He needs to pay attention…

"Ethan." It isn't a question this time. Ethan meets Leon's gaze with a sheepish expression, and the other man draws his brows together. "Seriously, what's going on with you?"

How does one go about confessing their guilty, weird, quid-pro-quo attraction to their superior without coming off as a freak? Better yet, how does one go about it without getting fired? Ethan feels a cold sweat prickle beneath the collar of his button-up.

I like you. I like you. I like you.

"I like…" It's like there's a solid chunk of ice stuck in his throat. "Well, I mean, your… you know."

Leon's look of concern quickly shifts into one of bewilderment. "No?" He says, real slow-like. "I don't know."

Ethan wants to die.

"It's just…"

The atmosphere in the room shifts. Ethan's hands are clammy and cold and he regrets even opening his mouth; wishing he could've just opted to say that he feels sick and his head hurts, and maybe even take the rest of the night off so he could reflect on all of this – perhaps over a nice glass of red wine. Instead, because he's terrible at socializing and even worse at socializing with Leon, he's currently staring the agent down with terror flashing in his eyes.

Leon doesn't say anything, but it's obvious that he's dying to get this over with, just like Ethan is.

"Y– you can't get mad," Ethan stammers, clenching his fingers.

More silence.

Ethan sighs. Then, finally, he lays down his cards with a quiet, "Your tattoos."

Leon tilts his head. "... Mine?" He asks, a bit delayed, and Ethan has never wanted to evaporate into thin air more than he does right now.

"Yeah."

"Like, the ones on my arms?" Leon rotates his wrists, glancing down at his own artwork. 

"Yeah."

"Ah." 

Great. When should he start packing up his belongings? Now? Tomorrow? There's a spare produce box in the break room, and he only has a couple of personal items on his desk. His name placard, a picture of his childhood dog, a cup full of pens he got on clearance at Staples…

Although Ethan doesn't get to stand up or prepare before Leon is speaking again, his voice surprisingly nonchalant. 

"And...?"

Ethan sucks in a deep breath. That's a good question. "They're… distracting me?" Vague enough to keep matters civil. He can do this. "And that's why I'm a little… slow, today. I think. Because they're doing that. Distracting me, I mean."

Leon hums, acknowledging that he heard Ethan's answer. He waits, silent until Ethan manages to scrounge up the courage to meet him eye-to-eye, and then he laughs.

There's something to be said about the way in which Leon handles all things; from topics as serious as bioweapons wreaking havoc on unsuspecting townhomes, to things like this – Ethan admitting he's intrigued by the older man's ink. He's good at finding the balance while still remaining cool and collected, and that's a trait Ethan's always admired.

Because, sadly, he cannot do that.

"I knew there was something about you, Winters," Leon says jovially, as if he's uncovered some grand secret. He leans back in his chair, pushes himself a little further away from his desk, and says: "Do you want to come have a better look?"

Ethan nearly chokes on his spit. "W– wh– what?"

Leon's grin widens. He's enjoying this. "I can't have distractions in the workplace. So if you're curious, and think it might help you refocus, I implore you to get your ass over here and take a gander."

The blonde flusters, his lips screwing into a scowl. Implore. What did this guy know about words like that?

Regardless, he still obediently gathers himself to his feet, taking the necessary steps to close the distance between him and Leon. The fine hairs on the back of Ethan's neck stand at attention, and he's acutely aware of the personal bubble he is now officially bursting— not that Leon seems to notice, or mind.

Infact, the only thing he does when Ethan comes to stand beside his chair is jut both arms out, letting Ethan do whatever he likes.

Instinctively, Ethan grabs them. Then panics, because holy shit, he's touching Leon fucking Kennedy. Then double panics, because why did he do that? Why is he still doing it right now?

"Uh…"

"You just wanted to hold hands?"

"N– no!" Ethan exclaims, immediately letting go. Leon bursts out into full-bellied laughter, and the blonde has to take a deep breath before he passes out from his nerves. "Jesus, Leon, I– I was trying to bring them a little closer."

"Oh right, the bad eyesight," Leon drawls. "I forgot you wear glasses sometimes. Near-sighted?"

"Far-sighted. Now shut up and let me look," Ethan snaps, finding his second wind. He reaches for Leon's arms again and finds relief in how the older man wordlessly obliges; giving Ethan the opportunity to twist his arms and inspect the patterns that dance across them. It's not a situation Ethan could've expected, or even predicted, but Leon's right about one thing—this is definitely scratching that terrible itch he feels, somewhere deep down. No more needing to sneak creepy, uncomfortable glances to figure out what they are.

However, he'll always wonder where the tattoos lead. And how many more of them Leon has, hidden underneath all those layers of fabric.

"I see." Ethan nods, smiling faintly as he releases his grip again. "They're cool, I wasn't expecting you to have them. Then again, I've never seen you wear anything other than long sleeves."

Leon quirks a brow. "You pay attention?"

Ethan's smile drops. "Oh. I mean, not in like– not in a weird way, that isn't what—"

There's the sound of a scoff, and then Leon's hands are on Ethan's wrists, gently pulling him down to his level. The blonde stumbles forwards and catches himself with a knee on Leon's chair, and the situation is so intense and utterly stifling that Ethan has to rear away with his eyes narrowed in firm on the office door.

"Ethan," Leon coos.

The blonde makes a noncommittal sound in his throat. 

"Ethan, c'mon, look at me."

There's no way this is happening right now. No feasible way. He must be dreaming.

Ethan registers with rapt attention as Leon let's go of his wrists in favor of bringing both hands up to cup his cheeks, and whether Ethan wants to submit or not isn't really an option anymore. Determinedly, the older man coaxes him to meet his gaze again.

"Shy?" Leon teases, and then quickly changes his tune when Ethan struggles in his grasp. "Okay, okay, I was just kidding! Damn."

"Leon—"

"Hold on for a second, sweetheart. I've got a few things on my mind." Ethan's face burns as he tries to process this, process the feel of Leon's touch as it sears itself into his memory. His heart pounds so fiercely in his chest he fears that Leon can feel it, but if he does, he doesn't comment.

Leon brushes his thumbs over Ethan's cheekbones. "You thought I'd be mad?"

"It's... unprofessional," Ethan breathes.

"What is?" Leon asks. His eyes are so blue. "Wanting to see my tattoos?"

Ethan nods. Leon snickers, pulling him that much closer, and the blonde is enveloped in the smell of bergamot and gunpowder and something spicy like sage, and… what was the question again? He can't think clearly when he can feel Leon's words flit across his lips.

"The only 'unprofessional' thing I see is the subordinate about to climb into his boss's lap," Leon murmurs with a wry smile. Ethan lets out a small gasp, jolting, and Leon makes sure he doesn't slip away. "Woah, hey! I never said I didn't like it."

"L– Leon, I don't understand what's…" Ethan stutters, shivering, feeling the traces of electricity that follow Leon's fingertips. He doesn't know whether to lean into him or settle his entire weight on top of Leon, so to play it safe, he refrains from doing either.

The agent takes a moment, eyes sweeping over Ethan's features, before letting out a soft exhale. "Well, now you've seen them. I hope that helped you find some kind of clarity..."

Not even a little bit, Ethan thinks miserably.

"... But it'll probably kill you to know that there's more than just this, and I can assure you, they are much more interesting." Leon chuckles as he tugs the blonde in one last time, and kisses him, right on the corner of his mouth.

"Still distracted?" He whispers.

Ethan can't even think of a proper reply. His brain has turned to mush.

"You…"

"Mm?"

Ethan sucks in a deep breath. "You're a fucking asshole."

Leon throws his head back and laughs, and when he recovers Ethan is already swooping in for another kiss. To hell with professionalism.

[violets-page]

Shot down Pt.3

Allie takes over your mind and all Raven can do is watch, feeling helpless.

TW: self-harm (kinda extreme)

Pt.1 | Pt.2 | Masterlist

You relied often on the extension of crutches to be mobile. However, things that worked on the ark were not always as great on the ground.

Things like executions, lunch, and crutches, were all much better on the ark. All involved much less suffering. The bumpy terrain and muddy roads made you slip often. Walking made you anxious, afraid that at any moment your legs would give up and you would plummet to the soil. Stuck there until someone become willing to help. Needless to say, you avoided it at all costs. Or at least avoid walking alone.

Today was one of those days where you were forced to. Raven was working on some sort of electric fence around the camp and had begrudgingly left your side after you begged her to. You knew that being cramped inside all day with nothing to work on was worse than hell for her. It had rained earlier and the ground was a cesspool of piss and mud. Falling into it was ill-advised.

You were immensely grateful for the returning strength to your arms and spent many hours working out. Pull-ups were your preference. Without them hobbling along would have been much harder. Raven often commented on them with a smile and a laugh, it always made you blush.

The jagged metal of the crutches sank deep within the soil each time you set them down. It took forever for you to get more than a few feet from your tent, but by that time you had already grown too tired.

You practically fell onto a stray box before hurling the crutches into the mud next to you. You felt your foot twitch. Abby had stated this was a good sign of recovery but to you, it just felt like a painful reminder of your limits.

Your head fell forward as your palms dug into your eyes, holding back the tears like a damn.

The chip in your pocket felt like a hundred pounds as you pulled it out

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

When Jaha gave you the chip he had seemed so sure of himself, so convinced that these people would be happy. Hell, the man fell from space in a death capsule, was stranded in the desert, almost died, and somehow, and he looked happier than anyone else on this damned planet.

You had run out of other options. The worst that could happen? It turned out to be a piece of plastic and you were left with the unsatisfying taste of dirt.

You held it against your lips toying with the idea, you had run out of time, out of patience, out of hope.

Raven had slowly gotten over her guilt (all thanks to you) and due to your inability to travel more than 30 feet without screaming, you barely saw her. Abby was the only one who checked in regularly and most likely because you spent most of your time in her makeshift waiting room.

Waiting.

You were always waiting. Waiting for your friends to return, waiting for your leg to heal, waiting for love.

Before you could stop yourself you let the chip slide onto your tongue. It dissolved quickly at tasted faintly like salt and dough.

You sat there, waiting for euphoria, waiting for...something.

The kids on the ark sometimes smoked herbs. You thought it would feel like that, the world fading around you as bright colors floated around and everything else just ceased to matter.

Instead, you wiped tears from your eyes all the while cursing Thelonious. You grabbed your crutches, the walk back would take your remaining energy, but better than then be stuck in the oncoming rain.

You felt your annoyance growing with each step as the crutches creaked irritated by your weight on them. You couldn’t take it anymore, the anger came crashing like waves. You slammed the crutches in the mud with a scream. You hated them. They poked you in the arm, they were too tall and made your shoulders ache, they sunk into the ground and were too nosy.

you stood in front of the crutches before raising your leg to stomp on them.

You took your anger out, everything that was wrong with the world you suddenly blamed the crutches for.

“Stupid mother fu-”

Your stomps slowed to a steady pat before halting completely. You were moving, standing. Without the aid of crutches. You took a few more steps, and a few more, and some more. Until your eyes were met with a pristine pair of black heels.

Your eyes trailed up the ivory-toned legs and over the tight red dress of a figure, you'd never seen before. You stared at her in confusion.

“Hello y/n”

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

Raven hadn’t realized what was happening till it was too late.

You fought against the hold on Clarke and Bellamy in a fit of screams. The forest looked the same to you no matter where you were and your eyes hungrily searched for anything you could recognize

You heard the familiar faint whispers of Raven’s ‘I’m sorry’ before a needle was plunged into your neck and everything went dark.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

The drive to the grounder camp felt long and hopeless to Raven. She spent the drive running her hand through your hair hoping part of your unconscious mind would recognize her touch and be soothed by it.

She watched as Clarke and Bellamy hopped out of the truck to reason with the vicious-looking grounder. Her Breath hitched waiting and hoping they would be able to reason with her. She couldn't bear to lose you.

You were all she had.

She felt you shift in her arms, your eyebrows furrowed and she could see your eyes flutter but remain close. For a second she forgot the situation, a gentle smile down at your waking form. Then reality came crashing.

“Hurry she's waking up!”

You felt the fabric of a blindfold as rough hands shoved it down before you could even open your eyes.

Hands were on your body, their touch felt familiar but not enough that you could place the figure. The blindfold cocooned your ears and amplified the sound of your breathing so that Clarke’s voice was a dull mumble.

You felt your body being released from your arms as your back sunk it to something soft and shiny. You immediately started trying to get free. Attempting to rip the blindfold off, you felt your hands and feet grabbed by multiple sets of limbs. Restraints were bound sloppily but tightly around your wrists, with the addition of the blindfold and multiple pairs of hands trying to hold you down you weren't making much, if any progress.

The smartest thing to do was to obliviate one of these obstacles. You choose the easiest one. Your hands clawed at your face, you could faintly feel your skin under your nails as you ripped at it before your fingers were finally able to latch onto the blindfold, yanking it down and around your neck.

Alie’s familiar red dress stood out strongly against the dull tones of the unfamiliar room. The group stood in tense anticipation as you snapped your head around, trying to recognize the room. You knew it wasn't part of the ark, it was too dirty and earth-like. The fur rug made you think Trikru but where you had no idea. When your mind drew a blank Alie grew frustrated. Or at least, her version of frustrated.

“We need to know where you are.”

Your thrashing resumed this time tenfold.

“WHERE AM I. WHERE AM I.”

They struggled to hold you down as you fought past your physical capabilities to escape. They all had a grip on a limb making movement nearly impossible. Injuries, even if you couldn’t feel them, weakened you.

You turned to the closest person, who happened to be Raven, and sunk your teeth into the flesh of her wrists. It was shallow, she yanked her hand back before you could go deeper. Her pain barely registered in your mind, her tears didn’t tug at your heart like you knew they should have.

Instead, you seized the opportunity to reach over and punch Jasper square in the nose. His hold loosed but by then Raven had latched back on, the blood from her wrists trickled slowly down onto your exposed skin. With each failed attempt at escaping struggling grew harder.

Clarke and Bellamy had been quick to grab a spare rope, using it to bound your hands and feet to the posts of the strange bed. You screamed in frustration as Alie stared at you. She showed no emotion, just the same semi-pleasant stare she always held.

“LET ME GO.”

You knew the awful things Alie could do and you were no stranger to them. The scream was a mix of terror and anger. You tossed your body up and down hoping to break the posts, the bed, something to set you free.

“LET ME GO LET ME GO LET ME GO.” Your voice grew more strained with every word. If you could feel pain your throat would probably ache immensely.

The group stepped back after thoroughly double-checking the knots. The sheer look of horror was displayed across all of their faces and it vexed you deeply

Didn't they know you were doing this for them? For her?

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

Raven stood in the other room, watching you made her feel sick to her stomach. Not that listening to your screams from a different room made it any better. She could hear the creaking of the bed and pained screams throughout the entire house. So she stood, waiting anxiously with Clarke for their next move.

Her nails had been chewed to the beds and she knew that if- when you came to, you would scold her till her ears bleed.

Clarke said she knew where to get a wristband and Sinclair knew how to alter it to suit their needs. But Raven grew nervous with the time it was taking for either of them to follow through on these promises.

She glanced to where Clarke was talking to the grounder and felt her muscles tense when the girl gave Clarke an angry glare. Whatever Clarke was trying to achieve, she was doing a horrible job of it.

By now all of her nails had been chomped town to raw skin so she switched to pacing. Back and forth, back and forth trying to drown out your ever-fainting screams.

Raven let an audible sound of relief when Clarke set the wristband on the table. It had been a silent mutual agreement that Sinclair would be the one to work on the wristbands.

One part because He knew them best and the other because Raven couldn’t keep her fingers from trembling long enough to do the necessary machine work.

“So how do we do this?” Clarke seemed the calmest of them all. Losing Lexa had numbed her in a way.

“If we can turn it into an EMP we can use it to fry the bitch out of her head. The electromagnetic pulse would destroy the critics. You just need to reverse the polarity and...”

Raven droned on in her explanation, faintly aware of how quiet the neighboring room had grown.

“We don’t know what the chip embedded in her brain is like, it could cause a bad outcome”

“Worse than this?” Her question was met with a defeating silence. Not that she expected anyone would answer. She wasn’t feeling too strongly about the plan either but she couldn't watch you slowly break apart, her lover disappearing with every day until all that's left would be a hollow shell. She tried to reassure herself that it was what you would want.

The group continued to talk, working up a solution until they had a solid plan mapped out. Monty and Octavia had fled to the dropship to gather the necessary parts while everyone else had stayed behind.

She made her way back into the room to watch you.

Maybe for a moment, she could envision you back to normal, pretending that she was simply watching you blissfully relax.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

Raven stood in the corner of the room. Her posture was rigid and he hands crossed over her chest relaying defensive positioning.

Not that you even cared. You surveyed your bound wrists with a bored expression. Her eyes fluttered between you and the floor constantly. The floor was basic dirt and about as interesting as well... dirt. Meaning that she was avoiding your eyes.

You rolled your wrists thoughtfully considering a slip-out process, you knew how Raven worked, how she thought, her weak spots. You could take her easily. You tugged at the right wrist restarting trying desperately to wrench your wrist free.

Alie watched you robotically her red dress unnatural in the atmosphere.

“With marginally more slack, you could reach those knots.”

The idea hadn’t occurred to you before. without pain inhabilitating you, you’d be able to dislocate your shoulder, properly creating more slack.

You twisted, you could feel the muscles in your arm pulling taut as you put out exasperated grunts. Raven’s eyes snapped to yours, her worry clouding her fear.

“Y/N, please...”

When you made no effort to stop she took note of your clenched jaw and furrowed brow.

“What- what are you doing?”

Her voice no longer had any effect on you. Your heart didn’t ache when you saw the pain in her eyes, you didn’t feel the need to comfort her when you could sense her anxiety. You were trying to help her, get her to take the chip so that you could be happy together so that her pain could end. But until she did, she was just a pest in your mission.

You kept tugging, you could feel your muscles grow stressed as you got closer to your goal. The grinding of your bones scrapped your ears as your arm popped out of its socket.

Raven stood frozen in shock. The fear on her face was evident but she was too startled to have a reasonable reaction.

“There is no pain here Ray, you could be free.”

Maybe it was the nickname rolling off your tongue, it’s lack of love or familiarity, or maybe she saw you trying to chew off the restraints, but she finally snapped out of it.

“STOP IT! GUYS.”

The blood has started to run back down your arm. Somehow in forgetting pain you also forgot about death. Raven didn’t know what to do, how to stop you, and stop the bleeding all at once.

Her heart was pounding out of her chest as images of your still body lying in a pool of blood clouded her thoughts.

“Oh god.”

She reached for your head, her calloused fingers against your cheeks as she tried to turn your head away from her wrists. You snapped at her, your teeth clenching around the air, but it was enough to get her to let go. The memory of your teeth in her skin and the stinging of her wrist were a painful reminder of how far you would go.

Clarke came in as you resumed chewing on the restraints. So close...

Before you could get them Bellamy and Raven had yanked you away. Enforcing your body in its position with more rope.

Clarke shouted at you to stop but you drowned her out, straining your neck in a futile attempt to reach the restraints.

“Alie.”

Your head snapped to Jasper’s as the familiar probing sensation in your brain occurred. Everything went dark,  when you came back to it, Alie was staring at you. The slightest traces of distaste etched across her red lips.

“Let them help you”

You froze, staring straight ahead. For a moment everyone else did too. Probably expecting you to lash out again and bite one of them. When you didn’t Raven quickly took to untying your wrists.

You watched her with faint interest. You couldn’t remember why you wanted to save her but you knew you did, somewhere deep down. Your eyes traveled down her arms. Her fingers were latched tightly around your arm. The teeth marks were barely visible, caked under her dried blood. Or maybe that was yours. You felt something in you ache, you can’t feel pain but this feeling... felt painful?

You pondered upon its appearance as Clarke used her foot to relocate your shoulder.

You didn’t even flinch.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

Raven had volunteered to stay with you. God knows why, you had hurt her enough. You rolled her eyes when she did, not that anyone noticed.

She sat at the end of the bed. you didn’t really mind, not that you could even do anything if you did.

You looked her up and down.

“Do you still cry?” It wasn’t really a question, you knew the answer. You just wanted to hear her say it.

Her eyes shot up to yours. Her hands tensed in her lap and you momentarily took note of her bloody nails.

“What”

“You used to cry over my leg. Why did you stop?”

She opened her mouth but then shut it not knowing how to answer, or who was even talking to her.

“If I’m being honest I think it was quite selfish of you. I’m the one with the fucked up leg and yet, I was the one comforting you about it.”

Her expression hardened but the tears in her eyes stayed. your stomach ached again but you ignored it.

“Get out of her head Alie”

You smiled at her, a nice teethy one, completely catching her off guard.

“It’s not Alie. It’s me Raven, your- your.” but your mind drew a blank. How did you know Raven? You couldn’t remember and it made you mad.

“You're the reason I’m in here. the reason I took the chip. Because you let me get shot.”

“Shut up.”

“You couldn’t help me and when I needed you most you disappeared.” you sneered at her as tears ran down her face.

“I’m sorry... I-”

Clarke’s hand was on her shoulder, leading her out of the room before you could get another jab in, but that didn’t stop you from trying.

“I HATE YOU RAVEN. I HATE YOU.”

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

You watched as Sinclaire put together a type of bracelet device.

“Their design is good, I won’t be able to get here before they disconnect you.”

You felt your heart rate spike knowing what was to come and that you had no way of stopping it. You struggled to try to pull your hands free before they could latch the device on. Your attempts were pathetic.

“You know too much. I can’t let them have you.”

The red dress disappeared and your head felt like it was on fire.

Die. Die. Die. Die. Die.

You had to get rid of the burning, it engulfed your head, shooting from the base of your neck, its flame growing stronger every second. You slammed your head against the headboard. Once. Twice. Every time you did the burning seemed to stop for a second, so you speed up. Screaming as your brain felt like it was being incinerated. You didn’t even notice when the bracelet was strapped on. Your eyes moved to Raven's tear-stained face and her mouth open in an apparent scream.

You almost stopped. A second of hesitation before the banging resumed.

You didn’t notice when blood started to run down your neck or when Octavia grabbed your head in an attempt to hold it still. You tried to scream at them to stop, that they needed to let you stop the burning but you couldn’t seem to form words.

You screamed as tears ran down your eyes.

“Please please please Raven. I don’t wanna die. Please don’t let them kill me!” You hiccuped. Your neck continued to jolt as you tried to smash it against the headboard. She looked heartbroken as her hands fell to your cheeks. You closed your eyes as sobs racked your body. The faint feeling of her lips against your forehead felt like a drop of water in the desert.

“I’m sorry love” You felt all the blood in your body vibrate as the current soared through you.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

When you woke up everything hurt. The pain shocked you at first. You’d grow accustomed to its absence. You went to move your hands to your head, the sticky blood coated your fingers as they rested upon a thin cut at the base of your neck.

“Ow.”

Everyone let out an audible sigh of relief. Her familiar hands were on the sides of your head, pulling your face into her chest. You allowed her scent and the smooth folds of her shit to engulf your senses as you tried to ignore the bustling headache that was sneaking up on you.

As if suddenly remembering you grasped her forearms pulling them away from your head, You stared at the deep, red indentations on her wrists.

You felt your breath catch in your throat as you let out a soft gasp.

You had done that to her.

She sensed your emotions, she always did. And she always knew exactly what to do about it. Her hands moved back to your hair, stroking it gently while avoiding the cuts and bruises you’d received.

You stared up at her for a while until the pain grew too much and you closed your eyes, allowing your head to fall back forward against her stomach.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

[mrs-gucci]

A Beach Day to Remember {Clyde Logan x Reader}

author’s notes: made it just under the wire for this week’s writer wednesday :) it’s a bit different from my usual writing MO, but I honestly had a blast with it and I’m decently pleased with how it turned out, actually. I wrote this late at night while I was half-asleep lol so sorry if it’s a little all over the place! thanks, as always, to @autumnleaves1991-blog for hosting & @clydesducktape​ for helping out! it’s such a great and fun weekly tradition!

warnings: fluff. humor. romance. beach fun. chair wrestling. a quick lil makeout session (nothing explicit). 

no tw’s :)

word count: 2.2k

clyde’s taglist peeps! @goddessofsprings​ my general taglist peeps!  @frank-and-honey @shygirl268 @icarusinthesea​  @gildedstarlight​ @mrs-zimmerman @soldmysoulagain @roseepossee @pascalisfairyy​ @I-can’t-draw-faces @ahsoka1 @safarigirlsp​ @babbushka

By some miracle, you’d convinced born-and-raised country boy Clyde Logan to accompany you to Miami Beach for a week. A whole week, you couldn’t believe it. 

And...he actually bought a pair of swim trunks. Sure, they were a West Virginia Walmart buy, but hey, he bought a pair; you’ll take what you can get.

Who was this man and what has he done with Clyde Logan?

He’s never really been to the beach before, Mamma Logan didn’t like bein’ in the sun too long and Pappa wasn’t about to cross her, so this was his first time. 

Your family used to vacation here every year, so you were relatively familiar with the notoriously rowdy town. The first evening and night consisted of you showing a wide-eyed Clyde around Miami’s bustling night life. But, when the sun came up the next morning, he was revving to get down to the beach.

You had to talk him down a bit there at first, convincing him to eat somethin’ for breakfast before spending a whole entire day in the sun ‘cause if he passes out, he’s on his own getting back to the condo.

“I’m gon’ go get changed fer the beach!” He says excitedly, clapping his hands together and doing a little jog over to the dresser the second you two get back from your sidewalk cafe breakfast.

You smile at his enthusiasm, trying to remember the last time you saw him so openly excited and smiley. After only a few moments of thought, you realize that you’ve never seen him quite like this before. But, you’re certainly taking a liking to vacation Clyde.

Both Mellie and Jimmy requested plenty of photos of, and this is a direct quote, “Clyde’s long, pasty-ass legs in swim shorts”, and you’re nothing if not accommodating...

As soon as he steps out of the bathroom, you quickly say “Smile!” and snap a picture of him in his leaf-pattern hunter green trunks. He frowns, striding over to where you’re standing.

“Hey now pumpkin, who’re ya sendin’ that off to?”

You giggle, typing out his sibling’s contacts into your messages. “Nobody...”

His eyes widen when he sees Jimmy and Mellie’s names. He tries to grab the phone away from you, but as he takes it, his palm accidentally nudges the little ‘send’ icon. 

“G’damnit! I fuckin’ sent it to ‘em!”

You’re cracking up as he frantically tries to somehow un-send the message, despite you trying to repeatedly convince him that there’s literally nothing that can be done at this point; the message is permanent.

Almost immediately, the replies begin to pile in and Clyde quickly puts a hand over his face as your phone chimes continuously.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

“‘m never gonna hear the end ‘a this when we get back home.” He groans. “Now they got that picture forever and they’re never gonna stop showin’ it...Oh ma god, they’re gonna put it in our weddin’ slideshow, a-and our future kids ‘re gonna see it, and it’s gonna be shown at ma funeral...”

You laugh, shaking your head as you put your hands on his bare, freckle-painted chest. “Hon, I really wouldn’t worry that much about it. It’ll all blow over in a little bit, I promise. Plus, I now have evidence that you actually came to the beach with me. I have a feeling our future kids won’t believe me when I tell them this story someday.”

Clyde starts laughing, running his hands down the curve of your body before landing on your hips. He pulls you in for a kiss, moving his lips gently against yours.

Your face scrunches when he starts licking into your mouth and the bitter taste of zinc overwhelms your taste buds.

“Mmmm, mmm, Clyde?”

He pulls away, brows furrowed.

“Did you put some zinc on your lips?”

His cheeks turn pink and he looks away bashfully. “Oh, yeah, I did. ‘m sorry, I forgot ‘bout that.”

“It’s alright, no need to apologize.” You chuckle, shaking your head. “I love you.”

He smiles, placing a kiss on your forehead this time, rather than your lips.

“Love ya too, pumpkin.”

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

Clyde’s like a kid at a candy store when he gets down to the beach, quickly putting the cooler down on the sand and dropping his chair down next to it. The sunglasses sit just above the bridge of his zinc-whitened nose as his head moves around to drink in the sights unfolding before him.

You giggle to yourself as you watch him, setting your beach bag down with the cooler before beginning to set up your chair. But your man quickly jumps in and insists on unfolding the chair for you even though, as you’ll soon find out, he has zero idea how to operate a folding beach chair. To be fair, it was one of those older-fashioned ones that had sustained quite a bit of rust.

“Now, how in the world...?” He grumbles, trying to unfold the stubborn thing. He tries just about every method he could think up, at one point he was trying to use his flip-flop equipped foot to aid in the unfolding process, but he still cannot get the damn chair open.

Eventually, a curious (and very entertained) bystander comes over and helps the two of you out with your chairs, and both of you thank them profusely before finally beginning your day at the beach. Clyde remains standing, continuing to look around at all the things happening on the beach while you lay back and open your book to begin reading.

After a bit of sunning time, you and Clyde head down to the water. You keep your feet in the cool water while he stands further in, little waves crashing mid-calf. He finds a nice shell and runs up to put it back at your little setup while you stay and watch as the natural push and pull of the ocean slowly buries your feet in the sand.

Suddenly, a flesh arm comes on your back and a metallic arm scoops behind your knees, lifting you up as you squeal. 

“Clydeeee!”

He laughs, rushing into the water while holding you bridal-style, water splashing up all over both you and him with each of his massive strides. As soon as he knows he’s deep enough, he starts swinging you back and forth.

“One...Two...”

You’re in a fit of laughter, playfully hitting his chest. “Noooooo! Stooopppp!”

“Three!” Clyde tosses you into the blue-green water of the Atlantic as you screech, a big splash accompanying your collision with the surface.

You emerge a moment later, quickly rushing up and jumping into his arms, causing him to fall backwards into the water. He laughs when he resurfaces and splashes you in the face teasingly, to which you respond by doing the exact same thing.

“No more splashin’!” He says, chuckling to himself at the irony of his exclamation.

You laugh, splashing him one more time. “You’re the one that started it, you goof!”

“Now, let’s not play the blame game, pumpkin.” He smiles jokingly, then wraps his arms around your torso, head nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

Both of you spend a bit more time in the water before heading back up to your chairs to dry off in the sun and re-apply sunscreen. Clyde ends up falling asleep, a few shells he found in the water spread out on the top of his thighs as he snoozes.

Only about fifteen minutes later, you look over and put a hand over your mouth to cover the giggles that come when you see that one of the shells has sprouted some legs in preparation for an escape attempt. The creature begins crawling and he starts squirming a bit at the ticklish sensation, clearly beginning to re-awaken from his early afternoon slumber. 

When his eyes blink open and he looks down, he gasps, launching backwards in his chair. Unfortunately, the old-school beach chair already struggles to hold his massive form, so when he jumps back, the chair gives out and breaks clean in half, sending Clyde back into the sand. 

The poor crab is thrust into the sand, but it’s alright, quickly crawling back towards the ocean. You immediately stand up, trying not to laugh too hard until you know he’s completely alright. 

“Oh my fuck...Clyde! Are you okay, hon?”

He nods, chuckling softly. “’m alright, though I can’t say the same for this here chair, though.”

You giggle, helping him sit back up in the sand. When he’s fully sat up, he’s still smiling and laughing, shaking his head.

“Well, I suppose I owe the condo owners a new beach chair.”

--

A full, active day at the beach has you pretty fucking exhausted when you two finally head back up to the condo around four in the afternoon. You take a quick cat nap while Clyde showers, then you hop in and wash off the day’s sunscreen and sand.

While you’re in the shower, Clyde rifles through his duffle and pulls out a little velvet box, popping it open to expose the glittering diamond ring that sits on a little pillow. He smiles at the sight, knowing that tonight’s the night he’s finally gonna ask you to be his forever.

He’s been waiting for the right moment for a short while now, and after the fun y’all had at the beach today and the sunset beach walk he’s planning to take you on before your fancy dinner reservations later this evening...he can’t think of a more perfect time to do it.

You step out of the bathroom and Clyde scrambles to quickly tuck the ring box into his khaki pants pocket. He smooths his hands over the fabric before standing up, face breaking out into a wide smile when he sees the beautiful sundress you’ve got on.

“You’re so beautiful, pumpkin.” He says, smiling as he walks up to you, hands on your hips. “Always so, so beautiful.”

Your expression stretches into a bright, genuine smile as you get up on your tiptoes for a kiss. “Thank you, Clyde. You look awfully handsome yourself this evening.”

“Oh, well, thank ya, darlin’.” His cheeks grow red as he looks down for a moment, shoving his hands down in his pockets. “So, do ya wanna go on a sunset walk ‘fore our reservations?”

You agree, and the two of you head back down to the beach. His fingers fiddle with the little box in his pocket as you walk along the beach. Soon, you reach an old lifeguards stand, painted in brilliant mint green and flamingo pink colors. The ‘No Lifeguard on Duty’ paint is still visible, even after some seeming wear and tear to the outside of the building. 

The sun’s touching down on the horizon line as he guides you up onto the old structure’s small front deck, and you lean over the railing together as the sun sinks down. 

Your head turns to look over at your beloved boyfriend, admiring the way the sherbet sky reflects off of and compliments his alabaster skin. God he’s beautiful, you think to yourself for what has to be the millionth time in your three years of dating Clyde. He’ll forever be the most beautiful man in your eyes.

He turns to you then, standing up with a shaky hand reaching out to take yours. “Uh, Y/N, there’s somethin’...somethin’ I wanna do ‘fore we head off to dinner.”

You nod, eyebrows furrowing.

“Sure, hon. Are you alright, though? You’re shaking a bit.”

“’m alright, pumpkin.”

Clyde nods and then, he sinks down onto one knee, wobbling a bit as he adjusts to the new position. He steadies shortly after and then, he pulls the box out of his pocket and opens it up, exposing the ring he spent hours picking out for you.

You’re in shock, hands over your mouth as he smiles up at you, tears already forming in his eyes.

“Y/N, I-I knew when I first met ya that you were gon’ be the woman I wanted to s...spend the rest of ma life with. Y-Yer so funny ‘n kind ‘n so, so beautiful; yer just...yer perfect, p-pumpkin.”

You feel the tears beginning to spill out of the corners of your eyes as he continues, tears now running down his cheeks as well.

“I love y-ya more than life itself, Y/N, an’ I...I wanna spend the rest of ma livin’ days on this planet by yer side. Will ya...will ya marry me?”

Time seems to stand still for Clyde, then, his nerves overwhelming and overtaking his entire being. The seconds between his final word and your response are some of the longest and most anxious seconds of his life, but damnit, they were well worth it.

“Yes, Clyde, yes. O-Of course I’ll marry you.” You say, smiling as he stands to pull you in for a passionate kiss.

He’s overjoyed, really, heart racing but in the best possible way. You said yes. You’re gonna be his wife, his Mrs. Logan.

“God, I love ya.” Clyde whispers against your lips, pulling the ring from its place on the delicate pillow. “I love ya so, so much, Y/N.”

“I love you t-too, Clyde.” You smile, holding your left hand out for him to slip the ring onto your finger. It’s a perfect fit, and you immediately pull him in for a hug. “I can’t wait to marry you, hon, can’t wait to become Mrs. Logan.”

He grins widely, pressing another few kisses onto your lips.

“Mrs. Y/N Logan, ma beautiful wife, ma forever partner.”

You nod, sniffling softly.

“Your forever partner.”

[yolo1650]

Animal Crossing One Shot- Your Love (ReddxReader)

Summary: After a stressful outing with your family, you decide to let loose and spend the rest of the night with your most recent hookup.

Word Count: 3170

Warnings: This one definitely is rated M for mature just to be safe, talk of sex, slightly smutty, angst, especially at the end, inappropriate drinking, mentions of drug use, two adults being bad examples, reckless behavior, has adult language, minors please do not read

This was inspired by the song “Your Love” by the Outfield. I also recommend you guys check out the PostModern Jukebox cover of the same song, the vibe really fits this fic’s atmosphere

——————————————————————————

Thankfully the streets were nearly empty around this time, which made the trip there quick and smooth. The street lights and buildings flew past you at accelerating speeds as you neared your destination.  

*ping*

You didn't even have to look at your phone to know who it was that texted you, or what it said. Knowing him, it was probably his usual smirking emoji, or an eggplant one if he was feeling particularly frisky today.  

Not that it mattered, because after what you had to go through earlier, you were honestly down for anything.  

It was only after stepping outside of your modest 2012 Honda Civic did you realize you forgot to change out of the clothes you wore to the party. The combined sale value of your outfit and the wine set in your hands had to equal at least triple the sale value of the car alone. Thankfully it was only two in the morning. So no one was around to witness you, the walking oxymoron, lock their rental car before walking across the street.

In all the months that you have done this, this would be the first night where you were reckless like this. You assured yourself that it would also be your last.

The door in front of you opened to a shirtless, grinning fox with a lit cigarette in hand. He was a little bit younger than any of your previous hookups. But you didn't mind, and the sex was definitely much more playful and addicting because of it. Perhaps that was why you found yourself standing in front of his door almost every week for the past three months.  

He whistled a low whistle.  

"You know if you wanted to go out and have dinner, you should have picked a more reasonable hour to meet me."

Trying your best, you repressed a bittersweet laugh. Dinner did sound nice. Then the two of you could remotely feel like a normal couple. Only, you weren't a normal couple. You quickly changed the subject by raising your hands, one which held a wine bottle, and another which held two wine glasses and a wine key.  

"No worries, I have all the dinner we need right here."

Handing him the bottle, you saw his eyes light up in intrigue and excitement.  

Redd never asked you to spend money on him and neither did you, as the two of you knew damn well that these meetings had to leave a paperless trail. If anything suspicious showed up on your credit card statement, your parents were sure to find out and it would be bad news for the both of you. It also did his ego some good too, as there was no way he could ever do better than this fancy bottle of wine.  

You only started bringing a complimentary drink this past month, all usually from your family's cellar. Not that Redd was complaining or anything. You were already one hell of a main course, why not spice it up with a nice little appetizer?  

So what was it this time? A deep, mature Merlot? A fun, fruity Pinot Noir? Maybe it was one of those simple and bold Chardonnay he liked so much last time. He put out his cigarette before turning the bottle over and examining its label.  

"Ahh, you know, I've always wanted to try-"  The length of the name alone was enough to stop him mid-sentence. "Mmm, sorry sugar, I can't accept any gifts with names I can't pronounce."

You chuckled and moved next to him to see for yourself. As you took the bottle from his hands, you gave no protest when he pulled you closer with his hand at your waist. You grinned at the sight of the familiar label.

"It's Pinot Noir," you explained. "More specifically, a Maison Leroy, 1989."  

Redd couldn't help but feel his heart flutter at the sight of that mischievous twinkle in your eyes.  

"My parents are so going to hate me when they find out that this is gone."

Your own eyes met with his own, which held an expression that made your heart stop.  

"Rough day, huh?" He asked.  

"You know it, handsome," you whispered into his ear. A pleasant shiver ran down his spine.  

As you went off to prepare the drinks in the tiny kitchenette he had, Redd closed the door and leaned against it. Usually the pet names were more or less his sort of thing. But every once and a while you would throw in a few of your own and every damn time, it would always drive him crazy. Everything about you drove him crazy. Your soft hair. Your lively eyes. Your amazing body. Your beautiful smile.  

Watching you open the bottle with a little pop, he felt something stir within him. A want to hold you closer than ever before and never let go. A desire to wake up with you curled against him, instead of seeing you walk out the door. A need to share with you his heart, his soul, and his everything.  

But the two of you weren't in that kind of relationship now, were you?

Still deep in thought, Redd didn't even see that you were already carrying your drinks to the bedroom.

You looked back to his piercing, half-lidded gaze and, after interpreting it for a lustful one, flashed a sly grin in return.  

"Well come on then, I didn't come here to be drunk and alone tonight."

To Redd, those words only confirmed what he already knew, that you were only here for a good time.  

~~~

One of the first lessons your parents taught you, as their only child and heir to one of the world's richest corporations, was to be very selective of who to trust. It wasn't until recently that you realized that anyone who gave that advice were the ones that should be distrusted the most.  

How ironic.  

It seemed like from that point on your entire life was defined by irony. You were the most alone when you were surrounded by your family. The deadbeat apartment of a stranger’s was more like home than the pristine mansion that you grew up in. Your most treasured memories were held within the cheap fabrics of a futon. And as you sat on top of the lap of a criminal, next to a half-empty bottle of wine, you swore you've never felt more safe than when he wrapped his arms around your waist.  

Your own arms have found the perfect spot on Redd's shoulders. It brought his face nice and close to your own, which not only made kissing his lips easy, but also his jaw and neck as well. Hot breaths tickled the inside of your ear, causing you to giggle uncontrollably.  

"Redd, you're so drunk," you said as you rested your forehead against his own. Your own words were just as jumbled as the nonsense you heard before. "Whaddjiya say?"

Looking at his flushed face, you watched as his lips curled into a lazy grin as he hummed. His eyes were half lidded and full of adoration. Being this close together, you were sure he could hear how fast your heart was beating.

You didn't even know Redd for very long, or really knew him at all for that matter, and yet with one look he was able to send your heart racing. Well, you knew he was an artist, not only well adept in the visual arts but the art of conning as well. But that never bothered you. You've known some family members who've done far worse, scamming people out of their own pride and disgust for the poor. Redd only scammed because he needed to, and that made him the most honest person that you've ever met.  

And the best part was that you could actually be yourself around him. Without the judgmental gaze of your family or their friends, there were no rules, no worries, no box to be squeezed into. It was just you and Redd, and he has never judged you once for it.  

He pecked your nose with a gentle kiss.  

"I said, ya look beautiful darling, being all dressed up like that and all."

Even after two full glasses, you still felt a new wave of heat rushing into your cheeks. You gave a small, strained smile before locking lips with him once again. The kiss, slow and full of longing.  

At first you liked seeing Redd a little bit drunk. He would get a little more cuddlier, and a little bit more direct with his flirting. With that, it was like you could pretend for just a few moments that you were more than just a hookup. But now it just made your heart throb as you were reminded of the events that brought you here in the first place.  

Pushing those feelings down a familiar one rose up on top. Cupping his face with your hands, you deepened the kiss as you adjusted yourself to sit right on top of his growing erection. As you moved your hips back and forth, Redd moaned underneath you. He moved his hands from your waist, down to grip you from behind, pushing you into him more. After breaking away, the two of you shared a moment of reprieve, as your breaths came out in short pants. You grinned a devilish smile before speaking.  

“While I’m glad you like the outfit, I was hoping you could rip it off me, sport.”

Redd flashed his canines, displaying a sinful glee of his own.  

“Feeling anything in particular today?” He asked.  

You leaned in and whispered hoarsely into his ear. “Just surprise me.”

A low growl came out of Redd's mouth as he pushed you down on top of the futon, making you giggle. You’ve seen Redd’s body on top of you like this dozens of times. But this time, there was a nervous fluttering inside you as his fingers skillfully undressed you. At first you just chalked it up to the excitement of having sex with him.  

But the butterfly sensation remained even as he deeply kissed you. His hands caressed your body, its touch was gentle, leaving every square inch aflame. When your eyes locked with his, the nerves came back stronger than ever, and deep down you knew the real answer. It left only one question in your mind:  

Was it possible to be in love with someone you barely knew?  

~~~

By now, Redd already knew all of your sexual preferences. Usually you liked it a little on the rough side, some days more than others, depending on how stressed out you were. On the occasion when you were in a really good mood, you'd like something more on the teasing side. Him on the other hand, well, he wouldn't say he really had a preference. He always enjoyed sex with you. It wasn't every day where he met someone who's stamina rivaled his own, and the challenge that provided was something Redd was always down for.  

But this time, your request was to "just surprise you," and at that moment he knew he wanted to do something new and different. While you were the same smart, confident and snarky person who walked into the bar and captured his interest months ago, things just felt different now.

Even though you never outright said much about yourself, you never really had to. Whatever you left unsaid you would say it ten times louder with your actions. He knew you came from good money, even your more modest clothes were well over how much he made in a year. But you've never acted like any other booshi he's known. No empty promises and pity looks, no flashy speech to protect your ego and to talk down scum like him. You didn't even bat an eye when he told you how he makes most of his money. In fact, he's never met anyone who yelled "fuck the rich" as loudly or as proudly as you.  

The two of you were kindred spirits. Left bitter by the betrayal of the world and yet still managed to find each other. Tonight was the night where he'd show you that, using his whole body to do it.  

At the end, only breathless gasps were uttered between you. Both of your cheeks were colored red, despite the alcohol having already left your systems. Your backs were leaned against the only pillow that he owned. You were the first one to speak.  

"I don't know if it was the Leroy that did it this time, but that was probably the best sex I've ever had."

Redd swung his arm around your shoulder and pulled you close. He looked at you with a prideful grin.  

"Oh yeah? Care to explain?"

That would have been the second time he's seen you blush like that tonight, like a spark of kitsunebi. Its beauty flashed briefly before disappearing once again, a trick in the light. Your eyes had trouble meeting his gaze. They constantly flitted back and forth between him and your lap as you struggled to find the words.

"If felt..."

Were you embarrassed? You, the one that openly admitted and pursued your alcoholic tendencies. You, the one who, after wrecking a bar because one sleaze couldn't take a hint, nonchalantly left a six figure check into the manager's hand and walked away. You, the one that shamelessly banged as many people as paintings he's forged. Unbelievable. Redd's smile only widened as he witnessed your tongue-tied condition. Eventually you sighed in defeat and turned away. Your answer was just barely above a whisper.

"...I don't know, just different. But in a good way."

He reached out and gently grabbed your chin, turning your face back to him. Your faces were close enough for a kiss. But really, he just wanted to get a good look at that flustered face, and damn did you look adorable. He could just stare at it all day.  

The words came tumbling out of him before he even knew it.  

"Is it crazy that I might be in love with you?"

For just an instant, he saw it. That look of dread, that face that someone made when everything went wrong. It left as quickly as it came because soon enough your hungry lips crashed into him, and he was reminded of the first night you were together. The kiss was forceful, not once giving him time to breathe. Before he knew it, you had him pushed against the wall with an arm on either side of his face. In the next second you had released your hold on his lips and looked down at him with half-lidded eyes.

"Yes," was your only response before crashing in on him again.  

Well, that certainly wasn't the answer he was expecting. He remained stiff and motionless underneath you, unsure how to respond. But the feeling of you on top of him was tempting, to just melt into your touch was too easy. He kissed you back. That look that he thought he saw earlier was probably just his imagination, and what you probably meant to say was that you liked crazy people. Good thing they called him Crazy Redd.

When you bit down on his lower lip, it sent small tingles of electrifying excitement between you two and he pulled you closer. It just felt so right to have you in his arms, he was sure you felt it too. Why else would you be on top of him right after he told you he loved you? As you traced teasing kisses down his stomach he could tell you were asking for a second round. His expectant gaze being the only confirmation you needed to keep going. Any fears he had before ceased to exist once he looked into your eyes, full of passion and confidence. He loved you, and deep down, he knew you loved him too.

Right?

Hearing Redd's soft snores next to you was your cue to start getting dressed. You tried your best to be quick and it wasn't because you were about to be late for work. Grabbing all of your things, including the Leroy, you head towards the door. But before you reached for the doorknob, you dared to turn back at Redd’s sleeping body.  

Even though you've seen his peaceful face countless time, every time, even now, it still felt like it was the first. You felt your heart swell along with the gentle rise and fall of his chest as you walked closer. Looking down, you tried your best to memorize every square inch of his serene face, its slender shape, a cute, twitchy nose, high cheekbones and thin eyebrows, You were even close enough to place a kiss right between those eyebrows. It wasn’t like he was going to wake up, especially after last night. Just a sweet little kiss goodbye before you ever saw him again.  

You breath hitched and you pulled yourself away from his face, suddenly remembering yourself. As you made your way back to the door, you tilted your head back, taking a few gulps of last night’s wine. You urged yourself forward. Redd’s face wouldn’t look so sweet if you stayed any longer. You imagined his fine eyebrows, strained as they knit together in anguish, his bright eyes now simmering embers, and his lips sealed tight into an uncharacteristic frown. Stealing one last glance at the Redd behind you was like comparing day and night. You were doing yourself a favor by having your last memory of Redd’s face be this one, and not the one you’ve been fearing all night.

Finishing up the last of the wine, you left the apartment as the memory Redd's confession last night replayed in your head. If Redd was crazy for just loving you, you had to be downright mental to be driving away like this.

As you bit your lip and clenched your shaking hands onto the steering wheel, you deeply wished the ache in your chest would go away. You wished he didn’t confess to you tonight, of all nights. You wished you didn't go to that party with your family before coming here. You wished you had the choice to just be happy, because in just a few months you were going to marry someone you could never love. The only one you did love you've just left alone in his futon, and you were never going to see him ever again.  

After getting on the highway, you weren't sure whether to feel surprised, agitated or indifferent when you felt hot tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. You swallowed a hard lump in your throat. Unfortunately you’ve just finished whatever alcohol you had on you and your Vicodin was in the other car. Your only condolence was the fact that there was always more time to cry in the shower after you got home.

——————————————————————————

Kitsunebi-also commonly known as foxfire. Used in folklore as a means to lead travelers astray

Ohhhhh booyyyyyyy. I told ya’ll this one was going to be a doozy. 

But also, wow! My first (kind of) songfic! I decided to leave out the lyrics throughout the fic, it just messed up with the flow too much. Especially since I added so much background info, the reader here is just half a step away from being a full fledged oc XD

If you liked reading things like these, I’d recommend Friends with Benefits (a Hetalia fic), by YourHero213 on Wattpad. (It actually has a happy ending lol)

If you’re looking for something with more substance, more unrequited feelings and more romantic tension, I’d highly recommend I’m a Fool to Want You (a Hazbin Hotel fic) by DisneyFanatic2364. I’ve linked the one on AO3, but it’s on fanfction.net as well. 

Both of these writers are a big inspiration for my own writing. So I hope you can show them some love too!

Let me know what you guys think, constructive criticism is especially welcome here :D

-(･ω･)v

[honey-dewey]

True Trans Soul Rebel

Pairing: Din Djarin/Trans Reader (Not specified whether reader is FTM or MTF)

Word Count: 2,220

Warnings: Mentions of needles and injections, transphobia against the reader. 

Traveling with Mando was an experience, especially after being beat up all your life for being transgender. It’s taken a lot for you to love yourself, but the mandalorian who definitely supports and probably loves you absolutely helps. 

Traveling the known galaxy was a very unique thrill. Seeing new planets every week and sleeping every night on a ship suspended in hyperspace, it was an experience like no other. You highly doubted much could top it. 

Well. Maybe one thing. 

Traveling the known galaxy with a Mandalorian might be able to beat just traveling. 

He was kind to you, which was odd because all your life you’d heard nothing but hushed whispers about mandalorians as takers and hunters. Despite your home planet being in the mandalore sector, mandalorians themselves didn’t have a high reputation there. The only bright spot was the story of Mandalore the Binder, who had been born on your planet. 

But that was in the past. Now, years after you’d left that planet, you were traveling with a mandalorian, which was a huge rush in and of itself. You’d seen so many new planets, and Mando, as he insisted you call him, never questioned the abnormality that had gotten you thrown out of your old family. He saw past the physical and into the skills you had as a mechanic, plus you’d been basically at death’s door when he’d met you. And if there was one thing this mandalorian had, it was a soft heart. 

“Where to now?” You asked, slumped loosely in the copilot’s chair, Grogu asleep in your lap. 

Mando turned, as if he’d forgotten you were there. “Shikaakwa.” 

You paused, trying to remember where that was. “The Tython system? Why are you headed out there?” 

“The quarry I’m hunting is out there.” 

“Oh.” Sometimes you forgot you were traveling with a bounty hunter and not just a weird single father. “Is that the system with Kalimahr?” 

Mando nodded. 

“Sweet,” you said, flicking one of Grogu’s ears simply to watch it move. “I need more Imitoin.” 

You could’ve sworn you heard Mando sigh, but he didn’t move or say anything, so you assumed he’d taken what you said into consideration. 

Shikaakwa was a weird planet. The atmosphere was breathable, so Mando let you take Grogu out to play for a bit. But he was extremely uptight about it, and for good reason. Best you remembered, the planet was still under horrible gangster rule, meaning it was likely unsafe for you outside of the Crest. 

That didn’t stop you from playing outside. 

Mando kept a stern eye on you and Grogu, fiddling with his pulse rifle and tracking fob before finally standing. “I’m going,” he said, catching your attention. “Get back on the Crest and do not leave until I get back.” 

You nodded, scooping Grogu up and waving goodbye. 

“C’mon kiddo,” you said happily, stroking down Grogu’s ears as you walked back to the Crest. “Let’s go screw with daddy’s shit.” 

Four days later, you’d organized everything on board twice and actually got around to fixing the mildly faulty left engine that you’d been putting off for months. Mando hadn’t returned, but you’d gotten a message from him on the third day that he shouldn’t be too much longer. 

On day five, he returned in the middle of the night, the quarry immediately being frozen and locked up before he even thought about finding you. 

You, of course, had been woken by the sounds of Mando returning. It was horribly late and you fell back asleep almost immediately, knowing that Mando would wake you if he needed help. 

When you actually woke the next morning, Mando was landing the ship, which was odd because you hadn’t felt him take off. However, you just yawned and sat up, adjusting your oversized shirt that had once had a logo on it. You slipped out of your bed, patting around for Grogu until you heard him cooing in the cockpit. 

Continuing to adjust your sleep shirt and horribly stained shorts, you wandered around, entirely barefoot, until you reached the cockpit. 

“Good morning,” Mando said, looking over his shoulder as you entered. “We’re on Kalimahr. My docking pass lasts twelve hours, so make them count.” 

You nodded, rubbing sleep from your eyes. “When’d you get back?” You asked, yawning halfway through your sentence. 

Mando’s modulator made an odd noise before he answered. “Late. You fell asleep in my bed, by the way.” 

Immediately, you squeaked out an apology, but Mando waved it off. 

“I wasn’t going to sleep anyway,” he reassured. “Couldn’t stay there any longer.” 

You nodded, still embarrassed. “I’m gonna go get dressed,” you said. “Can you find the closest pharmacy?” 

Mando gave you a gesture of affirmation while you slid out of the cockpit and down into the fresher. 

Dressing was always interesting. Mando thought it was impressive that you’d learned how to care for yourself in the dark, and you hated how sad you’d sounded as you explained why. Every time you saw your body it made you want to scream and cry. 

“One day,” you mumbled to yourself, blindly locating your favorite tank top. “One day I’ll get that damn surgery.” 

When you finally got dressed, you were able to flick the lights on, admiring yourself in the grimy mirror. This outfit was a favorite of yours, with the olive green tank top and overalls you hadn’t stained too badly yet. You preemptively wrapped a grey fabric baby carrier around your chest, knowing you’d probably be taking Grogu today. Overtop that, you had a loose brown jacket that came down past your knees, the patches and overly large hood giving it character and telling your story. 

Lacing up your black work boots, you grabbed the tiny trash can that was stowed away in the fresher corner, intent on getting rid of whatever trash had been accumulated. 

“Let’s go!” You shouted up to the cockpit, using your foot to open the portable incinerator you kept on board for the trash. 

As you emptied the trash can, you absently watched the contents burn. Your syringes took a minute, along with the few empty glass medicine bottles. The bandages burned quickly, but what made you recoil was the very strong smell of burning hair. 

“Mando!” You yelled, looking behind you as his boots firmly stepped off the ladder. 

“What?” 

You closed the incinerator, wrinkling your nose and walking past him to put the trash can back. “Next time you cut your hair,” you said, walking back to him and taking Grogu from his arms. “You’re emptying the trash into the incinerator. It smells like shit.” 

Mando chuckled, watching you adjust Grogu into your baby carrier. “Deal.” 

Your trip into the city was relaxing. At least, much more relaxing than waiting for Mando on board the Crest while he probably got himself shot at multiple times. When you stepped into line at the pharmacy, a few people gave Mando a look, one mother tugging her child closer to her side. You rolled your eyes. Mando wasn’t a completely uncivilized killer. At least not all the time. 

He turned a blind eye to the hesitation as the line moved forward. When it was finally your turn, you put on your kindest smile and spoke sweetly to the four armed woman manning the window. “Hi! I need a six month supply of Imitoin-126, with the syringes.” 

The woman eyed Mando and Grogu before addressing you. “Can I see your card?” 

You dug your prescription card out of your pocket, sliding it across the counter. The woman took it and examined it before giving it back. “I’ll go grab you a box of that. Is there anything else I can get you?” 

You thought about the supplies on the Crest. “Mando?” You asked. “Do we need anything?” 

“Bacta patches,” Mando said after mulling it over. “And probably some more painkillers.” 

“Cool.” You turned back to the woman. “Two boxes of bacta patches, one medium and one small, and one bottle of Omnipril please.” 

The woman nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

While you waited, you stroked Grogu’s ears, making him giggle whenever you gave them a light tug. Mando watched, occasionally reaching out to tug on Grogu’s ears himself. 

The woman came back after a few minutes, your various purchases in her arms. “That’ll be three twenty five.” 

You gave her the credits, accepting the bag of stuff she handed you. “Have a nice day.” 

“You too!” You said cheerily, putting the bag in your leather satchel for safekeeping.

The rest of your day was mundane. You picked up a few more purchases, namely food and parts for the Crest. Eventually, Mando split off to find something specific for his pulse rifle, leaving you to absently browse in the city’s center. 

While you looked over a new pair of welding goggles, you heard a commotion behind you. Turning, you noticed a group of protesters standing outside an unassuming white building, harassing someone who was just trying to get in. 

“Excuse me?” You stepped up, despite knowing you’d probably be giving Mando grey hair if he could see you right now. “What’s going on?” 

One of the protesters pointed at the person, who you assumed from the white coat was a doctor. “This doctor is a disgrace!”

“Why?” You were genuinely curious now, putting a protective hand over Grogu’s chest just in case this got ugly. 

“They are willingly defiling the natural form!” The protester said firmly. “They would actually perform a procedure to change the body and make it something else! To turn people into ungodly abominations!” 

You stepped back, not wanting to get involved now. “Oh. Well.” 

The protester glared at you. “You do not find this disgusting?” 

“I-“ You took another step back, flinching away from another protester who grabbed your bag, the abrupt action spilling its contents on the cobblestone. 

“They are a disgrace!” The protester shouted, seeing your Imitoin hit the ground. “A disgrace!” 

Immediately, the protesters ganged up on you, forcing you to your knees, curled around Grogu in a desperate attempt to protect him. 

“Hey!” A loud and familiar modulated voice broke the vicious cycle of abuse, causing you to look up. 

Mando stood in the center of the cobblestone circle, his shoulders squared. 

“Leave,” he growled, taking a step forward. 

The protesters scattered, running off, leaving you and the doctor. The doctor reached your crouched form first, slowly helping you to your feet and gathering your purchases to place back in your bag. “Are you okay?” 

You nodded, wiping tears from your eyes. “Yeah.” 

The doctor smiled, looking up at Mando. “If you ever need anything,” she said softly to you, handing you a small card. “Come back here, okay?” 

Mando put an arm around you, carefully tugging you to his side. “We’re going home,” he said tightly. 

The walk back to the Crest was silent. Mando kept his arm around you the entire time, and your head remained bowed as the Crest got closer and closer. 

When you were finally curled up in the cockpit of your home, you broke. 

Mando, thankfully, wasn’t as much of an emotionally stunted brick as people assumed. He wrapped you in a beskar hug, slowly putting his forehead on top of your head as you sobbed. “It’s okay,” he reassured softly, smoothing a hand up and down your back. “It’s okay.” 

You continued to cry until your body had nothing left, leaving you exhausted and horribly dehydrated. Mando let you sit in the pilot’s chair, grabbing a water bottle and watching closely as you drank half of it in one go. 

“Let’s do your medicine and then you can take a nap,” he said finally, once you’d put the water bottle down. “While you sleep, we can head back to Nevarro.” 

You nodded, silently taking your coat off and unwrapping the grey baby carrier from your body. Grogu was in his pram, half asleep already. 

Mando carefully helped you to his bunk, turning away so you could take your overalls off and slip into your sleep shorts. Once you’d done that, he handed you the empty syringe and the new bottle of Imitoin. You expertly filled the syringe and stuck yourself in the thigh. It didn’t make you nervous anymore, as it did in the beginning. Mando watched, sticking a bandage to the small puncture hole while you disposed of the syringe. 

“Are you okay?” He asked finally. 

“Yeah,” you whispered, settling down on the mattress. 

Mando sighed, beginning to take his armor off and pile it on the floor. Once he was left in just his tank top, pants, and helmet, he laid down beside you, shutting the door and plunging the small sleeping area into darkness. 

“C’mere,” Mando murmured, tugging you closer. You tangled your legs with his, losing yourself in the broadness of his chest. 

You drifted off, waking up a bit when a small hiss filled the space. 

“Whassat?” You mumbled, looking up at where you thought Mando’s head was. 

A dull clunk and a soft sigh woke you a bit more as you realized what was probably happening. 

“Go to sleep,” Mando murmured, his voice richer now that it was unmodulated. “I’ll stay until you do.”

You fell asleep slowly, cuddled up to Mando. He did his best to relax you as you drifted, scratching slightly at your scalp and hardly moving as you finally let the world melt away, held safe in the arms of the mandalorian who loved you.

[maevesdarling]

Take me home tonight

Sooo, I decided to post chapter 1 of the story @unicorn-cloud and I have been cooking up for a while. This plays post series in an alternative universe. There’s mentions of gore and canon typical violence in both this and the second chapter, basically Walt is not dealing with things as good as he thought... I’m not sure how many chapters this story will have, probably around 3 to 4, also please be kind to me it’s been a long time since I uploaded my works to Tumblr, thx!  

Chapter 1: The Call

Later, after he put his gun and badge down and moves further away from the border, Walt gets a call from an unknown number. He contemplates not picking up. It's been years since Kiki's death and operation Leyenda. He thinks, for a moment, that it could be Miguel Angel, calling him from his jail cell to taunt him, but no, he's not important enough to that man and besides, Miguel Angel doesn't wield as much power as he used to.

There are others. New players in this fucked up game, Walt knows that. He saw them rising on the horizon like a looming thunderstorm, ready to destroy the earth in it's path. But for now, he decided to enjoy his peace. His back's been bothering him more as of lately and he's got a few more grey hairs. He quit smoking about a year ago, after his doctor told him to do so. He's had a few setbacks since then, a half finished pack is always hidden underneath his kitchen sink, just in case he needs a fix. But overall, he's trying to stay away from the cigarettes and eat more healthy, even though the microwavable dinners at the supermarket look damn tempting, especially since it's only himself he's cooking for.

He's up in Colorado these days. The DEA was kind enough to leave him with a nice sum of retirement money, probably to shut him up after all the shit he pulled of during his career and to be fair he doesn't blame them.

He buys a nice enough house on the outskirts of town, with some additional property, a rundown barn and an old apple tree orchard that he has no plan on using. The weather's less hot, and there's a few lakes where he can fish, but otherwise, it's pretty much like any other town he's lived in. The dark red sandstones dotting the farmland remind him of Mexico. Of sitting in the hot sun and watching a small airfield in the distance, with a pair of binoculars in his hand. Sal's voice next to him asking about their next move. It's nostalgic in a way.

The first day, after he finished dropping off his stuff in the small, rundown house, he sets off to drive around, get familiar with the place. He finds a shabby bar, a small supermarket, a post office, a family owned diner and a few farms, with cows and hundreds of chickens roaming the surrounding fields, that sell local products. Over time, he ventures out further and discovers some more bars, supermarkets and, to his surprise, a gay club.

It's well hidden, two cities over, wedged between an antique bookstore and a barbershop. It looks nothing like a club from outside, and from the inside, it's hardly distinguishable from any other bar Walt has ever set foot in. But he knows where to look, it's something you learn over time.

The first time he orders a drink, his eyes fall on a guy sitting on the other end of the bar. Dark hair and dark eyes, with a bristly moustache. He's wearing a black cowboy hat and a jeans jacket, it's not what he would have worn. Plus he only looks a slight bit like Sal, his face is much older, more weathered from years of hard work in the sun, but it's enough for Walt to give in to his yearning.

He buys Not-Sal a drink and they fall into an easy chatter. Two hours later, Walt is driving him back to his house. Not-Sal is more experienced than Walt had thought when he starts undressing him with steady hands, his fingers touching in all the right places, he's already prepared, as if he'd been expecting this to happen, and doesn't mind it when Walt accidentally let's Sal's name slip at the height of his pleasure.

They lie together afterwards, sharing a cigarette between them, neither of them ready to leave yet. Walt is slowly falling asleep to the feeling of another person combing their hands through his hair. When he wakes up the next morning, the house is empty. There's a note on his kitchen table, a short thank you message, that's it. Next time he's at the club, Not-Sal is gone. He finds someone else. A different man, with dark hair, dark eyes and a friendly face, and then another and another. Some of the men he brings over are kind, they'll stay the night and sometimes even the morning, to share a quick meal with him before they move on, others leave almost immediately after they finish. Some of them yell out Walt's name as they come, others don't. And some yell out another man's name, but that's okay because so is Walt.

He's careful with the company he keeps. Always making sure that no one sees him leaving the club with another man, driving different routes back home and of course he's always stocking up on enough condoms because he's not stupid, he knows how important protection is.

Even though he's had a few men over, none of them return for longer than a couple of times. Its fun, to fill the mornings with senseless chatter, and to fall asleep in another person's arms. But they're not Sal.

He's longing for him. Even after all those years he's still longing for him. It's been three, almost four years since he last heard from Sal. He was moving to San Francisco. The DEA wanted someone new up there and Sal was growing tired of the shit hole they had placed him in after Mexico. They had called each other almost everyday, sometimes they would even meet each other, for a quick chat and an even quicker fuck. There was never enough time.

Sal wanted to call him back, he promised, once he was in San Francisco, to call him every day. Write a postcard. But nothing came. The telephone was silent for two whole months and Walt was desperate. First, he checked the newspapers for any missing or recently deceased people, when that search came up empty, he started to search the phone book for Sal's new address but of course that came up empty as well. He kept buying new phone books, just in case and by now, there was a small bookcase filled with old phone books in his house, and not a single one held an address for Sal Orozco. It was almost like he never exited. Only Walt's memory kept him from going insane. The fading photos on his wall, the one he kept in his wallet, next to a picture of Greg and his family. One of Sal's shirts he forgot in Walt's apartment in Texas, it had long stopped smelling of him, but nevertheless, Walt would pick it up and inhale deeply, thinking that the ghost of Sal's smell was still there, etched into the fabric. He slept with the shirt, on those nights when he woke up drenched in sweat, screaming and with a thundering heart. He wrenched his eyes open but he saw them anyway, Amat, Ossie, Danilo, sometimes even Kiki. He saw them die, he saw their bodies, bruised, burned, riddled with bullets, standing in front of his bed, he could hear them calling out his name. "You killed us, Walt." They'd point at him, blood dripping from their fingertips onto his bedsheets. Those nights were the worst. Sometimes they could only be stopped with an entire bottle of whiskey.

The dreams had gotten better since he found the dog. The dog didn't have a name. He was a stray, with dark, golden fur and dirty white paws. He picked him up on his way home from an unsuccessful night at the club, the dog was covered in ticks and fleas, one eye had been badly bruised and he was tied to a tree by the side of the road. Clearly abandoned. He expected the dog to bark at him, or worse, bite him, when he kneeled down beside him to untie him, but instead, it sat down in front of Walt and started wagging it's tail, as if he'd known Walt all his life. He took the dog in and gave it a bath, making sure that no ticks or fleas survived, before driving him to the vet the next morning to check out his eye. The vet couldn't save it and so Walt decided to take him in, just another broken thing keeping his company.

He put a collar on the dog and called him his, they slept in the same bed and sat on the couch together, watching football games and stupid action movies. The dog went fishing on the lake with him, even though he was no big help in catching the fish, he also liked to run around the orchard and sit on the front porch to sleep, and Walt liked to sit beside him and think, scratching behind his fluffy ears. Sometimes he wondered if Sal liked dogs. What he'd say if he met his dog.

The other animals were intentional. Walt bought a couple of chickens to sell their eggs at the local farm, and to keep himself busy. Then he renovated the old barn as best as he could and bought three goats to sell their meat, but once he saw them in their pen, he decided they weren't going to the slaughter house and kept them for their milk instead. He also fixed up the orchard as best as he could and started collecting the apples. Soon the onslaught of apples was too much for him to handle and so he collected them in a few boxes, along with the chicken eggs and sold them to the nearest farm. Surprisingly, the people around town started knowing him once he started visiting the farm more frequently. He would have regular conversations with some of them and at some point, even started looking forward to see them. He didn't go to the town hall meetings, or to Sunday mass, and the people had been weary of him, but once they saw him with his dog and the boxes of apples in his trunk, they warmed up to him.

He enjoyed his new life. It wasn't luxurious, but that wasn't what he wanted for himself anyway. He was no Miguel Angel. He didn't need a fleet of private planes and a couple of hotels to be happy.

The phone rang again and reminded him of his current situation. The dog had stopped wagging it's tail on the couch beside him and was looking at him with his one eye, almost as if he was saying "what are you waiting for?"

And so Walt picked up the phone, fully expecting Jamie or Ed or someone else from the DEA to yell at him to get his ass back to Mexico.

"Hello... is this Walt Breslin?" The phone slipped from his grasp and fell, he caught it in his suddenly sweaty palms, pressing the shell back against his ear. Three years silence could not erase the memory of that voice. Hushed conversations between them, hiding behind a parked car as they watched over a suspect, a gasp and then a low moan, while Walt kept hitting that one spot inside him, that set Sal's body on fire, a chatty conversation over two mugs of steaming coffee in a diner that ended with both of them laughing hysterically. Walt had enough memories for an entire lifetime with that voice, he would recognize it anywhere.

"Sal-" He breathed, rearranging the phone against his ear.

"Is- Walt is that you? Oh my god- fuck- I found you!" There was a short pause on the other end of the phone and for a moment Walt thought he was imagining things, then Sal's voice returned. "I- I'm sorry, Walt. I'm so sorry-" He sobbed, apologizing over and over.

"Sal- How did you find me? Wh- Are you alright? Is- do you need help?"

"No, no, I'm fine, Walt. I am. I just- fuck- I missed you so much. Where are you? I called you're old address so many times- I thought something happened to you…"

"Shh, I'm okay. I'm in Colorado. Small town near Denver. I'll give you the address… That is… If you want me to…"

"Yes! I mean... yes I want- I want to see you. If that's okay. I need to- need to know you're okay."

He contemplated with himself wether to ask this or not, but in the end, Walt did it anyways. "It's been three years, Sal. Why did you never call? What's changed?" Another sobb from the other end of the line. "I'll tell you. In person. Friday? Is that okay for you?" Walt squinted at his calendar. Friday was in two days, he needed to clean the house, buy some groceries and pack the car for Sunday's apple delivery.

"Yeah, Friday works."

"Alright. I'll see you on Friday… Walt… I missed you."

"… Missed you too Sal."

He put the phone down slowly, feeling like he was still in a dream. The dog had noticed something was off about his behavior and was staring at him in concern. " 's alright bud, I'm just… surprised, is all. We'll meet a friend of mine on Friday. I hope you'll like him…"

Lost in his thoughts, Walt began his evening routine, closing the chicken pen, checking on the goats and refilling the dogs food in case he got hungry during the night, only when the brown cibbles hit the kitchen tiles did he notice his thoughts slipping off. The only thing on his mind was Sal. Sal with his kind face and the warm, dark brown eyes, Sal wrapping an arm around his hips and pulling him closer, Sal whispering into Walt's ear. A hushed love confession neither of them dared to talk about. So, so many memories they shared between them, how was he supposed to wait any longer to see him again?

Friday couldn't come soon enough.

[sinsatmidnight]

Cream

Pairing - Irene (Bae Joohyun) x Male Reader

Words - 2293

Sins - Smut, clothed sex, mutual masturbation

So it’s probably past Irene’s birthday already in all time zones, going by KST I’m about 13-14 hours late to post this during March 29, but a belated happy birthday to Bae Joohyun anyway! So I decided to write two works of her as a birthday special. The first is here, and the second is a female reader insert with a different plot that also ties in with the birthday theme, but that one will be up later as I rushed to finish at least one ASAP. I’m of course, still working on other works as well!

Birthday gifts. They’re one of the hardest things to find in the world. At least, they are if you care about the reaction of the person receiving it. And when that person is the love of your life, you care a lot. Of course, they’re hard enough to get for most people. When your girlfriend is a businesswoman rich enough to buy damn near anything she could possibly want, it just gets harder.

Two whole months before her birthday, you started looking for gifts. Weeks of trawling online shopping websites and apps gave you nothing. And so, you went out. Went into malls and shops and listened to recommendations from people selling shoes, dresses, gems and more. Didn’t find anything that felt right. About a week before a birthday, you finally settled on something. You would have to personally make the gift for her.

Which explains why you were in the kitchen baking a red velvet cake on the morning of your girlfriend’s birthday. You knew that her favourite type of cake was red velvet and you spent a lot of timing poring over online recipes to select what would hopefully be the best one. Will she like it? You certainly hope so.

You lived together but she was out working, so you had the house to yourself. You were done by lunch, so you spent some time after lunch getting some chores done, cleaning the house and such. And then you prepared dinner and packed it up for your girlfriend, Irene. She had earlier told you that she would be working late. And that is why you packed the cake in a box and bringing along with the food for dinner, dropped by her company to surprise her.

You eventually arrive at her company, navigating your way through the offices and workspaces. You find the rest of her entirely female team working outside her office. You know them well and have met them on many occasions. You gently knock a couple times on a desk. The four young women look up from their computers.

“Oh, you’re here for Irene? She’s in her office.”

“Sorry ladies, can I borrow her for about forty-five minutes? It’s her birthday, I baked her a cake and she hasn’t had dinner.”

The four of them shoo you towards Irene’s office. “Yeah, we know. Go, we won’t disturb you for a bit, don’t worry!”

“Thanks girls.”

You walk over to Irene’s office and knock on the door.

“Is that you Joy? Come in.” You hear your girlfriend’s voice, a little muffled by the door, mistaking you for one of her subordinates outside. You open the door and walk in, closing it shut behind you. You stand at the door, looking at Irene reading some sort of document with her back to you.

You’ve always wondered you have been lucky enough to have such a wonderful woman as your girlfriend. Irene turns heads. All heads. She’s not tall but knows how to make her legs look long and the word most people use to describe her face is ‘goddess’. Large eyes, fair skin, long sharp nose, long smooth dark hair. The fact that she’s a tough as nails businesswoman who’s very sweet in private only adds to her charm.

Irene’s dressed simply today, just a simple long-sleeved white shirt and short pink skirt plus heels of the same colour today. The skirt has a slit at the side that shows you more of those smooth thighs you enjoy caressing so much, a detail which you appreciate. But she’s gorgeous no matter what she wears, and even when she’s wearing nothing at all.

“Joy, do you have the- “

Irene’s voice stops short as she realises that her boyfriend has just walked in. Her mouth opens a little in surprise, but she recovers quickly and a smile graces those incredibly kissable red lips of hers.

“What are you doing here, baby?”

You raise the bag that contains the food you prepared for her. “Hi, bae. I brought dinner.” You call her “bae” as an affectionate nickname, but mostly because it’s a play on her surname of “Bae”. You’re the only person in the world she allows to call her that. And only in private.

Irene walks over to you and glances at the large box you’re carrying. “And that?”

“It’s cake, don’t tell me you forgot it’s your birthday today!”

“Oh, where did you buy it from? There’s no branding on the box.”

You grin and pass the box into Irene’s hands. “I didn’t buy it. I baked it this morning.” Irene’s face brightens. “You baked it?” She opens the box and looks inside. “And it’s red velvet cake too.” She doesn’t say anymore, but you can tell that she’s happy.

You bring the food over to a glass coffee table at a seating area that Irene uses when hosting guests in her office. Irene follows you and sits down on a red couch as you unpack all the food. She goes for the cake first though, taking a few bites of it. As she eats, you stand behind the couch and lean over, massaging her shoulders. Irene sighs in contentment.

“Long day?”

She nods as your fingers squeeze her shoulder muscles. You can feel her relaxing under your hands.

“What about you?”

“Just baking and cooking. A bit of this and that. Nothing too bad. Nothing compared to you, I’m sure.”

“Working in the house can be tiring too. The cake’s really good, by the way. But it’s missing a little something.”

“Like what?” Feedback was good, you could take it and make something better for her next time. Irene turns her head to the side, half-facing you. “I think it could use some cream.”

You furrow your brow at this. There was already a healthy amount of cream on the surface of the cake. “But there’s already-ah.” Irene chose that moment to have one of her hands reach out to one of your hands, guide it off her shoulder and bring it to her mouth. You were completely distracted and didn’t resist, barely noticing that it happened.

And then Irene starts to slide one of your fingers in and out of her warm and wet mouth, her tongue brushing against the underside of it every time it slides in. You watch for a good thirty seconds or so before she then turns to face you fully and stands up. There is a dark glint in her eyes. You know this look. You watch her undo the top three buttons of her shirt, giving you glimpses of the lacy white bra she’s wearing today.

Oh, you know what kind of cream she wants from you now. You can feel yourself start to harden down below.

Irene wordlessly reaches out with one hand, grabs your collar and pulls you in to smash her lips against yours. Her tongue pushes past any resistance from your lips, overpowering your tongue in moments. Her kiss is sweet; the taste of the red velvet cake you baked lingers on her tongue and in her mouth.

Still joined at the mouth, you climb over the couch, stepping on it as you make your way to be on the same side as Irene. Once there, one of your hands reflexively finds its way to a butt cheek and squeezes it while you wrap your other arm around her waist. Irene moans softly into your kiss. When you finally break the kiss, Irene and you stare into each other’s eyes for a moment. And then she wraps her arms around your neck, holding onto your shoulders, hugging you close and whispers into your ear.

“Let’s make this quick; I still need to have dinner and work after this.”

“The door’s not locked.” You try to pull away to go to the door and lock it but Irene holds you back.

“I don’t care. Now.”

You nod and Irene wraps her legs around your waist as you carry her over to a mostly empty table at the side of the room. You sit her down on it and her legs release their grip on your waist. One of your hands runs up along her legs and sneaks inside her skirt between her thighs.

As your fingers caress her smooth inner thighs, Irene has one of her hands massage the growing bulge in your pants for a bit before she unzips them and has her hand slip inside your pants. Your fingers reach the lacy fabric of the G-string thong she’s wearing, her fingers find purchase on the waistband of your underwear. Irene’s always loved wearing G-string underwear, they make her feel sexy and in her own words, “she loves the feeling of something between her ass cheeks”.

You slip your fingers around the thin barrier of the thong and into Irene’s slick pussy, she shivers and bites her lower lip. Her fingers respond in kind, and they pull down the cloth that kept your erection imprisoned. Irene starts to stroke your cock with one hand, gentle and slow for now. Your thumb gently teases Irene’s clitoris and your other hands journeys into her partially unbuttoned shirt, diving beneath the bra to find a hardened nipple. You roll it between two fingers even as another two fingers bend and wriggle down below.

Irene starts increasing the speed of her handjob, stroking ever faster, urged on by your hands. On your part, you start to piston your fingers into her dripping core as best as you can within the confines of her tight skirt. Irene can’t hold back and starts to moan louder; you frantically send your hand from her breast over to cover her mouth to muffle her. Her subordinates are working just outside; you prefer to keep it quiet.

After a good minute or so of muffled moaning into your hand, Irene uses her free hand to pull yours off her mouth. She stares at you with a dark lust clouding her face. “Fuck me.”

You scramble to oblige. Your fingers leave Irene’s pussy, drawing a soft mewl of desire from her, and they grab hold of her panties to pull them down her legs. Once they reach the ankles, Irene has one heeled foot slip out of them and she leaves the underwear dangling from the other ankle. She unclasps her skirt to loosen it and make it easier to hike it up her thighs to give your cock access to her wet cunt.

You pull Irene closer to you, sitting her on the edge of the table, spread her legs as widely as you possibly can with her skirt still on, and then you slide your cock inside of her. Irene’s tight, wet pussy is a familiar feeling, but it only gets better the more you’re inside her.

Your hips start to piston and your cock pounds as deep as you can manage into Irene’s pussy. One of Irene’s most sensitive spots is her neck, so you bury your face into her neck and take in the scent of her perfume. You taste the slight bit of sweat that has formed on her skin. Your licking and nibbling has Irene loudly groaning again so your mouth kisses its way up her neck until you find her lips and muffle her mouth with yours.

You can feel your climax approaching but Irene’s comes first as she suddenly goes still, and her nails threaten to tear your shirt as her fingers clench around your shoulders. The warm rush of Irene’s juices flowing around your cock combined with her pussy walls constricting your cock sends you over the edge and you also unload a few spurts into her without warning, mixing your cum with hers.

The two of you take a few moments to recover, each peppering the other with soft kisses all over the other’s skin as you do so. When you finally pull out, Irene slides herself off the edge of the table to get on her knees and starts to clean your cock by sucking it clean of your mixed cum.

“There’s not much cream here.” Irene pouts cutely after she finishes with your shaft.

You can only chuckle at that as you slip your spent cock back into your pants. “Happy birthday, Joohyun.”

Irene flashes you a wide smile as she gets back to her feet and slips her thong back on. “Thank you, for everything that you do, baby. You should go home and rest…” She leans and breathes into your ear. “…you also owe me more cream tonight, I’m not satisfied.”

You help Irene button her shirt and give her a peck on the cheek and whisper back. “I feed you cream for skincare and food nearly every night, when will you ever be satisfied?” You step back and wave goodbye to her. “Make sure you have your dinner before you go back to work, okay? I’ll see you at home tonight.”

You turn back for a last look at Irene as you reach the door and her lips mouth the word ‘Never’ very slyly at you. You laugh and push the door open. And walk straight into all four of Irene’s subordinates standing outside the room with very flush faces. You intuitively gather that they’ve been listening in.

“Good night everyone, don’t work too late tonight. I’ll be off now.” To spare both you and the ladies awkwardness, you quickly excuse yourself and walk hurriedly to the elevator.

Once you are alone in the elevator, your thoughts turn to home. Looks like you’ll be giving Irene an additional birthday gift of cream tonight. It turns out that you didn’t need to look very far to find the perfect birthday gift for your girlfriend.

[tuancore]

Purple Hearts || {Part 1} :

Starring- Jinyoung x reader

Genre- Angst | Non-Idol AU, Disorder AU

Summary- I will continue to love you for as long as I'm breathing, but I won't let my love come in between your happiness.

*GIF not mine, credits to the owner*

Holding a bouquet of flowers you ran around the streets bumping into a few people, the bouquet so huge that you couldn't even properly see the road in front of you.

"I'm sorry!", You shouted after bumping into the fifth person, thankfully the sun has set otherwise all those people might form a communion and beat you in the middle of the road, taking a final turn, you ran even faster towards the venue.

"What took you so long?!" Someone called you from behind, siding the bouquet slightly you saw the person's face, a sarcastic smile adorning your face, "Ahh... Jackson Wang...Do you want me to slam these flowers on your head?".

"Of course not! Those flowers are looking perfect exactly where they are", He surrendered raising his hands, he examined your dress from head to toe, "You were running in a floor length dress?".

"I'm just gonna kill that Mushroom head!", You growled shoving the bouquet in Jackson's hands, "Woah, it's actually heavy, how did you even manage to carry it and run around", he praised you.

"Don't be so flattered, I've bumped into five people on my way, almost got hit by a pole three times, and even stumbled multiple times due to my heels", You huffed in annoyance.

"Life is hard I guess, I thought Yugyeom went to take the flowers?", He questioned.

"He backed off to flirt with girls, He's dead meat for sure once I find him", You said roaming your eyes in hopes for finding your good for nothing brother.

"I think I saw him around the drinks section—" That's what you needed to hear, lifting up your dress a little you walked away, "Jackson please take those flowers to my stupid friend I've to see my beloved brother, thank you...".

Standing a metre away from Yugyeom, you saw him standing in the centre with two girls surrounding him, one with blonde hair seemed to be too much immersed into the conversation or maybe into Yugyeom, she ran her well manicured nails on the fabric of his shirt. Another brunette had her arms linked with him.

A pure wave of disgust hitting you seeing your brother's not very well flirting skills, it was so clear from the body language of those girls that they wanted nothing but to get into your brother's pants.

You strode towards Yugyeom shoving the two girls, holding onto his collar harshly, "How dare you?! How dare you do this to me? To us?", You sniffed loudly, gladly the party had some loud music and busy people who weren't really paying any attention to your tantrums.

"W—What?" He stammered shocked to see you crying. The girls glared at you ready to claw your eyes out, but you faced them tears brimming in your eyes, they seemed to be taken back.

"Please don't get lured by him and his sugar coated words", You glared at him, "We dated for two years, even after being in a relationship with me he cheated on me with multiple other girls and when I told him that I was pregnant, he left me....", You sobbed hugging the blonde, "Please don't trust him, he's a player, top notch....".

"What the fuck are you saying n—", He yelled.

"See now he's mad at me because I revealed his true face....".

"Yugyeom, I'll see you later I think my mother is looking for me!", The blonde said, walking away while the brunette advised, "You shouldn't do that to a girl, she's so pretty why don't you just accept her and your baby".

"Wait!" He yelled but none of them turned back, "The fuck would you say something like that Noona!".

Wiping away your tears you scoffed, "I have every rights to do what I did I'm your elder sister, plus that's what you get for sending me to bring those flowers!".

"What?! Now because of your little revenge, I've lost the chances of actually being with someone", he grimaced staring at the girls from back. Smacking his head, you frowned, "I can't believe that you're my brother, your standard is so low. If nothing you want to date playgirls, eww Kim Yugyeom!".

"One orange juice please", Turning around you asked the bartender.

"So now we are talking about standards hm? Atleast I have guts to confess while on the other hand you don't even have the guts to confess to—", You hushed him pressing your palm to his lips, slowly shaking your head.

"Don't...Not today atleast...hm...", Your gaze turning utter soft. He nodded with a defeated sigh.

This party was thrown for no one else but your bestfriend to celebrate his success for starting his own company, and you didn't want anything to go wrong.

"Noona, Why is Jackson hyung roaming like a lost puppy with those flowers?" Yugyeom asked pointing at Jackson, his words made you choke on your drink.

Great! You forgot to tell Jackson where to actually bring that bouquet. Since those flowers holds a special place in your bestfriend's heart you had to bring it for him especially when today's such a fortunate day for him.

"You idiot those are not just flowers, those are those flowers which I asked you to bring and you ended up here to flirt with bitches", You rebuked glaring at your brother.

"Oopsie", Yugyeom giggled sipping on his cocktail bringing his free hand to catch his ears.

"I'll be back", You rushed towards Jackson grabbing the flowers from him, "Thanks Jackson, you're the best!".

Stepping inside the mansion, you climbed the stairs leading to the terrace in a hurry, You knew his mansion like the back of your hand, how can you not when you grew up playing in this place, "Damn these heels and damn the heaviness of the bouquet".

Panting heavily you managed to push open the door to the terrace, but you forgot to notice a marble piece ahead putting your foot inside you lost your balance, preparing yourself for a hard hit, you closed your eyes.

"Be careful", A pair of arms catching you few feet up from the surface, "You should see and walk, what if you get hurt?".

"Thanks for saving me again my savior", You chuckled picking the flowers from ground handing him, "And here you go with your purple roses".

"Thanks.....actually I want to show you something", He added, putting his hands on your shoulders guiding you towards a small table which was decorated with scented candles and flowers with two chairs, on four corners it had pillars with lightings, rose petals sprawled on the ground.

Your eyes lit up at the arrangement, everything looked so romantic and perfect, walking closely you inspected the entire set up, your eyes landing on a small red velvet box.

"I can't believe it that you did everything on your own, it's so beautiful!" You squealed in excitement, clapping your hands.

"I'm glad you liked it", He said, his hands shoved in his dress pants pockets, "It really took a lot in me to go this far".

Holding the velvety box, he opened it taking off a beautiful diamond ring from it, extending it towards you with a soft smile, eyeing the ring lovingly you declared, "It's so beautiful....".

"I know. Do you think Somi will like it?" He exclaimed with hopeful eyes. Holding his hands gently, you whispered "She'll love it".

"Do you think she'll say yes to me?", He smiled nervously locking eyes with you, searching for some hope.

"She'll say yes to you, trust me", You breathed, squeezing his hands lightly in a reassuring way with a gorgeous smile.

He grinned happily hugging you to his chest with his hand holding your head, your nostrils filling up with his cologne which always managed to drove you into frenzy, for a moment you didn't want him to let you go, his embrace being your safe place.

Gulping an invisible knot in your throat you pulled away from his embrace, "Look it's already 7:50....I must go... Somi might be here any moment, don't screw this up, be a man and get your girl".

You turned to leave but he held your wrist turning you over to face him again, You confusedly glanced where he was holding your hand.

"Thank you for bringing these purple roses, they're very special to me".

"I'm your bestfriend stupid, don't thank me for it".

Still with your wrist in his hands, he leaned over to pluck a purple rose from the bouquet, "Here.... to the most wonderful person in my life", he extended the rose for you to hold.

You could feel your eyes getting glossy as you stared at the rose and then at him, "Thank you", You mumbled taking the flower from his grasp.

"All the best Jinyoung".

Stumbling your way downstairs, you locked yourself inside the library, your tears finally streaming down your face, the purple rose in your hand making you sob harder.

This is it. This is where your heart ends, you finally gave the person whom you have loved all your life, your first friend, your only bestfriend, your first love and maybe the only person you'll ever love in your life, Jinyoung to someone else.

"One of us had to sacrifice and I can't see you getting heartbroken, so instead I'll give up on my love for you.... Jinyoung. Atleast one of us must get their love", You cried bringing the rose to your lips.

Part 2 | Master list |

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(A/N :- Hey!! I'm back buds with another Jinyoung FF, I hope you're all gonna like it as well. Thank you so much and I'm quite excited myself! Weeeewoooo!!)