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hihhasotherfixations · 7 months

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Wedded - Dragon! John Price x Reader | Chapter 1

When you are mistaken by a dragon as his promised bride, you unexpectedly need to learn how to live with your new husband. After all, the dragon made a deal, and he wants his end of the bargain - you.

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The results of the poll were clear. Dragon Price is first to come up and be written. This was also the only option who’s fic had multiple chapters sooo, woop woop! Hope you all enjoy :3

CW: f!reader, dragon Price, violence in future chapters

Word Count: 3028

Walking into the town, your eyes curiously looked around, an excitement blooming inside you – one you always found yourself in any time you got to a new part of the land, finding cities and villages you never knew existed.

This time, you’d made it to a village just south of the roaring mountains. A range that spanned the border of the land near the east. It was a relatively small village, and as you walked through to the marketplace, you immediately became aware of how close-knit the community was, as everyone seemed to know everyone.

Making you stick out like a sore thumb.

Still, your travels hadn’t gotten you this far if that was something that scared you off. And without further thought, you stepped up to one of the market brokers. The man was a botanist, obviously, selling herbs and wildflowers, your keen eyes curiously scanning around.

“Hello, madam!” The vendor perked up, giving you a once over, noting the large bag slung over your shoulder, as well as the leather-wrapped stick you were leaning on. “New to town?”

“Good morning.” You smiled politely. “Yes I am. It’s very nice.” You said, though as you looked around, it was evident that a scuffle had recently taken place. Broken wood and scorch marks riddling the buildings around.

“Can I help you find anything?” He asked, that typical salesman smile on his face.

Giving a small smile back, you shook your head. “No, I’m just looking for now.” You declined.

As you perused, you recognised most of the man’s wares. Within your own bag that was currently slung over your shoulder, you kept several exact specimens like the ones laid out before you.

After all, you’d been collecting them.

For the last three years, you’d been scouring the land, finding and testing herbs and wildflowers for their potencies and effects. What was once a hobby had become your life, with you abandoning your old one in the process. Yet not a day passed where you regretted your newfound freedom.

“Say, you seem very knowledgeable in this.” The vendor suddenly spoke up and you glanced at him, tilting your head in curiosity. Seeing that, the man explained. “Your eyes zero in on the rarer plants and skip over the common ones. Not many know them like I do.” He complimented.

“Oh, yes.” You smile. “I’m… well, a researcher. I’m writing a field guide on the plants of this continent and their effects.” You said, slight pride in your voice. Though it wasn’t a secret per se, saying it out loud was not something you often did. But giving the man’s profession, you figured it was worth a shot. “I’m looking for some rarer plants and I must ask, what is this one?” You questioned, pointing at a flower to the right. It had white, pointed petals that slowly turned blue the closer it got to the core, yellow spore marking the centre while the stem and leaves itself were green. Nothing like you’d ever seen before.

“That? Oh, that is a mountainscale lily.” He smiled, picking up the dried specimen. “Very rare. Found only in caves high up in the mountains.” As he said that, he turned and pointed to the looming mountain behind the village.

“I’ve never seen them before.” You mused, leaning in to get a better look.

“They’re native to this region. Only grow under very specific circumstances.” He explained and you nodded, curious.

“Is this in a place I could reach?” You questioned, making the vendor frown.

“I would not advise-“ “Ah! Hold on!” A woman suddenly interrupted, sliding in beside the merchant, her hand on his arm. The man looked a little startled, glancing at her in confusion, to which the woman nudged her head in your direction with an easy smile. “Look at the lady, she’s well equipped! Don’t be underestimating her now.” She teased, bumping her hip into his before squeezing his arm to get his attention and sending him a pointed stare, one you felt you shouldn’t be witnessing. At it, the man glanced from her to you – who was standing there confused – before grunting as he looked away from you, muttering under his breath.

Confused, you turned to the woman who turned to face you while smiling wide.

“Sorry about that. I couldn’t help but overhear.”

“That’s… okay.” You hummed, shifting your hiking stick to your other hand, a little put off by her sudden appearance. “So, am I correct in saying you think I could get to where the flowers grow?” You questioned, the woman seeming to light up.

“I am positive! In fact, I would like to ask to make a deal with you. Hire you, if you will.”

That was both intriguing and concerning at the same time. Anyone could take one glance at you and see you weren’t exactly a mercenary for hire.

“Darla, no-“ The man started, placing his hand on her shoulder, but the woman just shrugged it off.

“Hush now, I’m sure it will be no problem.” She smiled, keeping her eyes on you, to which the man grabbed her elbow, forcefully turning her to face him.

“Don’t. This is our problem. We must bear the consequences.” He said pointedly, but Darla scoffed and yanked her arm free.

“We have a perfectly capable young woman here.” She spoke, glaring at him.

“I’m sorry, what’s going on?” You asked, confused and before the man could say anything, Darla stepped in.

“These flowers. They have a healing capability. About a month ago, our village was raided and our supply stolen.” She spoke, a resentment sounding in her voice. “It was supposed to last us through the winter but now new flowers need to be plucked. The problem is that gathering them requires skill and knowledge. No one but my husband can do it, but he injured his leg during the raid and hasn’t been able to make the trip.” She said while gesturing to him.

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear.” You frowned in sympathy, looking at the vendor who had a defeated look, sitting down on his stool behind his stall. When looking around at the village, the evidence of a scuffle was clear. And not a small one. Not only were there the ruins and scorch marks around you, some houses were even burned down on the outskirts – which you’d seen when coming into town.

“Listen.” The man spoke up, catching your attention again. “The mountains aren’t easy to traverse, especially with an injury. It’s not a safe road. Think about this.” He warned, looking at his plants, avoiding your eyes.

Your brows creased together in thought as you then looked at the woman. “So… what is it you want?”

Darla perked up, her eyes landing on you before turning pleading as she walked around the stall, grasping your hands and holding them up between you and her. “We will tell you how to find the flowers. And in return, I beg you to retrieve a satchel full of them for our village. We cannot survive winter without them.”

Blinking in surprise, you looked from her, down to the pressed flower laying on the wood of the stall. You’d never heard of a flower which had capabilities such as that.

“I-“ You glanced up at her again. Her hand was holding yours tightly.

“You can take this one for free.” She then quickly spoke, grabbing the pressed flower and pushing it into your hand.

Frowning, you looked down at it, briefly studying the colours and make before sighing, looking at the vendor again, who was still looking down. While the thought of a flower having such potent capabilities was hard to believe - not without it having some sort of addicting feature – the opportunity to study it was too good to pass up. “Okay.”

At your simple word, Darla lit up, grinning wide, though it was almost scary as she then turned to her husband and hugged him. “We’re going to be alright!” Before you could say anything, she moved back over to you, gripping your shoulders. “You will save every young maiden in our village from a terrible and ill fate.”

Letting out a bit of a confused chuckle, you leaned back a bit. “Why, does the flower not affect men?”

At that, Darla cackled a laugh – a surprisingly pleasant sound.

“Come, let me give you a map and explain how to get there.” She smiled, placing her hand on your backpack, gently pushing you with her, leading you across the market.

And in the haste of her offering you a place to stay at her impressively lavish two-story house, food, a map into the mountains and all the instructions that came with it, you failed to realise that the herbal vendor never came to the house, nor that neither him or Darla wore wedding rings.

- - - -

Leaning on your stick, you paused at the edge of the trail, huffing and puffing.

Since the early hours of dawn you’d been walking, resting periodically to make sure you’d be fit to continue.

According to Darla, the hike to the nearest cave containing the wildflowers was ten hours – on top of the hour you’d already travelled by horse together with the woman.

She had been incredibly helpful, sticking close to you and repeatedly thanking you for being willing to do this. Hell, it almost felt like she was glued to your hip until the moment you reached the foot of the mountain, where she was all too eager to send you off on your way, taking the horses back home.

Not that you blamed her.

Walking over to the rocky face of the mountain, you leaned against it, staying away from the trail’s edge, not to keen to fall down it. Shifting down to sit, you pulled your backpack off your back, digging in to get your journal where you flicked to the most recent entry.

Opening the page, you carefully picked up the pressed mountainscale lily, turning it in your hand. Before parting ways with Darla, you’d asked her many questions about the flower’s properties. She’d seemed a little flustered, almost unwilling to talk about it.

Glancing down at your notes, you pulled out the charcoal pencil from the spine of your journal, drawing a line down from the drawing you made of the flower.

Hunching forward, you scribbled a single word before a loud thud suddenly echoed through the forest down below, making you snap your head up, looking over the sea of orange-leafed trees before you. Far in the distance, birds rose to the air, making you hum curiously.

Glancing back down at the journal, you placed the flower back between the pages before closing the book, getting back to your feet again, ready to pass the next few hours mulling over your new hypothesis, that one word echoing in your mind.

‘Addictive?’

- - - -

Pulling your coat tightly around yourself, you shivered, tying the strings directly under your chin. Even with the sun shining fully in the sky, the air was frigid – a cause of both the height you were walking at, as well as the nearing of winter.

You’d long since pulled out your woollen hat, keeping yourself as warm as possible, your hands feeling like ice.

Holding your map tight, your eyes glanced from the parchment and up the trail you were currently on. It was small, a goat’s path more than anything and one misstep would result in you plummeting down onto rocks far below.

Yet as you looked right, you couldn’t help but be in absolute awe by the view.

As far as your eyes could see, the forest stretched. Along the way, a wide river shimmered in the slowly setting sun, everything bathed in a gorgeous light, enhancing the golden leaves of the autumn trees. If you weren’t at threat of losing the light, you’d have sat down to draw it.

Looking back at the map, you breathed out, exhausted. Your feet hurt, every step making you question whether or not this was worth all the hassle. Yet as you grasped onto the brittle rock on your left and rounded the bend, you saw it.

A large opening sat in the side of the mountain, a plateau in front of it providing plenty of space. The cave opening alone must have been the size of nearly two houses beside each other.

And about ten meters in front of you, you saw it.

A mountainscale lily gently flowed back and forth in the breeze, the petals gently moving.

Firmly pushing off your stick, you began walking towards it, crouching beside the flower.

It was small, incomplete and evidently not growing in ideal circumstances, too exposed to the wind.

Leaving it where it was, you kept going. The cave sat about thirty meters ahead and your heart began thudding in excitement.

Every herb and wildflower you’d documented so far was one you either already knew, or had vaguely heard of. All of them were known, most likely researched, used in experiments until every purpose was exploited. But this one? You’d never heard of a flower like this. And the thought of you being the first to properly document it? It filled you with an eager excitement.

Reaching the cave, instantly you saw the lily’s on the edges of the opening, blooming in the dirt-like ground that littered the plateau you were standing on, the forest behind you and far below.

Taking off your backpack, you moved over the left, crouching by a cluster of the flowers. Digging into your pack, you pulled out your journal and knife, carefully starting to prod at and study the flower, carelessly scribbling anything of note down.

Your mind was only focused on a single thing, yet as you inspected the flower, you noted that even in its alive state, the colours were less bright than the pressed flower the vendor had given you. Even these flowers weren’t sufficiently growing.

“Is it the cave?” You mumbled to yourself, setting your items down and getting to your feet.

Slowly, you started to walk in through the massive opening, your body casting a tiny shadow in the large circle of light.

For a minute or so, you moved. Yet the further you went, the more you walked, a dread slowly started to settle in the pit of your stomach.

Something felt off.

Stalactites hung from the ceiling, ominous and casting shadows onto the top of the cavern.

The light from the entrance was pale, limited. And as you walked forward, you slowly got to the cap of it. Daylight reached into the cave in almost a halo. A safe circle of pale light, ending where you stood now, right at your feet.

Normally, you didn’t feel like this. Normally, you’d step into the shaded part of a cavern without trouble but in this moment? You couldn’t.

There was something about this place that wasn’t right. Unnatural.

…Warm.

The cave was warm.

It was subtle, not immediately noticeable until you focused on it, but still your eyes widened in realisation of that fact. Despite climbing high up, damn near into the mountains to get here. There was no frigid cold. The difference from the moderately chilly air outside and in here was noticeable. And it definitely didn’t come from the watery sun outside.

A breeze suddenly picked up, a gust of wind so fast you had to snap your hand up to hold onto your hat, your eyes closing on instinct as your clothes billowed and ruffled.

Clutching the strap of your bag with one hand and your hat with the other, you dared to peek an eye open. Yet as you did, your heart sunk, watching as the sun that had been shining on your back was blocked, a shadow sliding in and covering your body.

The gust of wind passed, your heartbeat thudding harshly in your chest as you could hear every breath you took, your eyes wide as you stared at the unnatural shadow currently cast over you. A shadow that shouldn’t be there. A shadow that wasn’t a second ago.

Slowly, as if a thousand weights hung on you, you turned your head around. And the clench of your jaw slackened as a terror fell over you.

Sitting there, sprawled across the opening of the cave, hung a dragon.

With scales a deep green, its eyes were fixed on you, unblinking while it sat. Hanging on the rock, its massive form blocked out the sunlight, small slivers only escaping near the corners of the scaly creature, the light almost casting it in a halo. Or hellfire.

You’d never seen a dragon before, only heard stories of knights or travellers, regaling the terror and power they could wreak.

You didn’t dare blink or move, just stuck in a staring contest until for the first time, it made a noise as a billow of smoke escaped its maw, a rumble echoing through the cave as it shifted, muscle rippling and scales glistening in the light.

With a deliberate and slow movement, it flexed the joints of its wings, stretching them slightly and blocking out even that last bit of sunlight that was on your body, fully encasing you in its mighty shadow.

With barely anything else to do, you turned your body around to face it like your head was, and as if on cue, that made it move.

Slinking down from the large cave entrance, the dragon landed on the rocky ground, front paws thudding down before the rest of the body followed, moving towards you.

Terrified, you stumbled back, wanting to run, though your heel hooked behind the uneven ground of the cave, making you fall onto your back harshly.

With the wind knocked out of you, you’d barely opened your eyes before you found the dragon’s maw hanging right above you, an amusement dancing in the crinkle of its eyes.

“Please-“ You whispered, only for the dragon to not hear as it instead spoke.

“Finally made the decision to show up, did we? You’re four hours late.”

I’ll try to get the next chapter out as soon as I can! Please let me know what you thought and if there is interest for a tag list for future chappies ❤️

#john price x reader #captain john price #captain john price x reader #price x reader #john price #cod x reader #dragon john price

193 notes · View notes

nanaminsmoon · 1 year

Note

literally perfect again 10/10!! i agree the girls do need a part 2 that’s jus what they saying idk

-🪩

sooo~~this is longer than i wanted it to be and it's really eren focused but here she is😁

pt.1

cw: ony x eren x black fem!reader, perv!eren, face+throat fucking, unprotected sex (stay safe guys), spit kink, ony calls reader; 'ma', 'my sweet girl', and he also calls eren 'good boy', ony calls himself 'daddy' eren is literally OBSESSED with them cheeks, yeah this just a mess.

cw: 3358

”bruh you know i didn’t mean it like that”, was a simple apology for many complicated actions. to ony’s mind, it was understood as an apology for the comment eren had made at ymir’s house. but eren knew better. to him, it was an apology for the late nights and early mornings he had spent fucking into his hand, playing back the videos ony had sent him of your back arched as you cried out his name into the couch beneath you. or the ones of you sat on ony’s face, riding it like you did his dick not too long before. every single one of them had been sketched out lightly, in the centre of eren’s pupils, then redrawn in permanent ink in the back of his mind. for days now, his four walls had been subjected to their owner’s moans bouncing off them, filling his living space to the brim, only to leak out of his open windows. he told himself he’d stop, but by the time his brain had gotten a proper reign on his sense, his hand was covered by his first load, and his phone screen had taken the brunt of his second. there was one particular close up of your cheeks from the back that made eren lose it; it drove him to such extreme immersion that his brain made him believe that you were really in front of him. and by the time he could properly discern that you weren’t, his phone screen was covered. yet, he could still see the banner sliding down it to notify him that ony had sent him another message. he had expected to be cussed out, but what he got was worse: ”come to our place tomorrow. 5pm.”.

eren didn’t even have to knock on the door, as it was left slightly ajar. the key still being in the lock told him that you guys couldn’t even wait to get inside before you started doing whatever had distracted you. not that he could blame ony; if you were his, he’d never be able to take his hands off you either. hiding that fact was easy when there were other people around, but doing so when it was just the three of you would be difficult. so eren’s hand just lingered over the door handle, contemplating just turning around and walking away. but, amidst the anxious thoughts, eren could hear skin slapping and guttural moans. maybe ony hadn’t anticipated him being so on time, maybe you guys had lost track of time. or maybe, just maybe, this was all part of ony’s plan to get back at him. eren thought this whole thing started, and ended, with his one sly comment. unbeknownst to the fact that, since that night, ony had caught on to the way eren looked at you differently; his eyes lingered longer on exposed skin, he reacted more at subtle touches, and he was a lot quieter around you. that amused him more than anything, so he proposed something to you. and you had agreed.

twisted thoughts of your body covered in sweat, and lustful bruising, became life unravelling realities, when eren opened the door and was greeted by the back of ony’s head. the front of it, directly facing your bouncing tits. neither of you had noticed him walking in until he closed the door. something only ony reacted to, turning his head to smirk at the man stood at the front of your home. if those videos had piqued eren’s interest, ony wanted it to plummet. and he was about to do that by finally satiating eren’s curiosity.

”sit.”, ony nodded towards the dining table chair he had placed in front of the couch. separation from your naked body bouncing on your boyfriend’s dick, and eren’s flustered eyes came in the form of a coffee table and wavering self-control. once sat, eren tried to distract himself with thoughts of anything that wasn’t whatever was happening in front of him, and all ony could do was scoff at him.

”we’re over here”, ony muttered lowly, and the journey eren’s head took to turn from the ceiling to the scene in front of him was a slow one. its destination being one that wasn’t favoured, but once reached, he couldn’t help the way his emeralds flickered to the glistening white substance sat comfortably at the place where you and ony connected. subconsciously, the tip of eren’s tongue slid across his bottom lip before it went back into his mouth, his lip accompanying it. he had known better than to wear grey joggers, because even the sight of you made his dick twitch now. so he hoped that the decision to wear black ones instead would aid him in hiding his dick pulsating in his boxers. a thumb masquerading itself as just a means of ridding his thigh of an incessant itch, slid across his tip gently, sending a volt of electricity down eren’s spine as a result. all efforts to hide his arousal went down the drain as soon as ony’s mouth opened again.

”you think i invited you here to watch me fuck my girl?”, the lecherous veil over eren’s eyes lifted suddenly, his body shifting to sit up properly again, ”you said you was down, so come get her”, ony poked, and eren’s adam’s apple bobbed very slowly.

”the fuck are you talking about?”, he spoke out quietly, but he was still audible to ony’s ears. even over the sound of your ass cheeks clapping on his thighs.

”you said you was down for a threesome, didn’t you?”, ony stilled you to raise an eyebrow at eren, and eren just sunk back into his chair.

”i was kidding…”,

”and?”, ony’s head tilted in provocation. beams of the setting sun snuck through the gaps in your curtains to illuminate the coat of sweat covering your body, and the beads slowly forming on eren’s forehead. it was as if thinking of a response was causing him physical strain that only worsened when your hips began moving again,

”look at her, jaeger”, ony pouted at eren, his hand weaving through your jet black bundles to pull you back, place kisses on the top of your neck, and turn your face ever so slightly to face eren, ”she’s such a needy girl, and i can’t take care of her all by myself”, the pout on ony’s face would soon leave, its place taken by something more sinister.

eren’s internal conflict was visible on his face, and ony knew that all he had to do was play on the fantasies bred by those videos he had sent him. as boisterous and blithe as eren presented himself, ony knew the brunette before him was not used to someone like you. jokes about fucking you were made because eren knew that’s all they’d ever be; it was easy to make light of something that could never be within arms length of him. should he ever come in contact with someone like you, your jaw would unhinge, clamp around him, and leave him a hollow shell of what he once was. if not courage, ony wanted to at least test his friend’s resolve. and his hypothesis was that it was fairly weak.

”n-nah. i can’t”, eren stuttered, going to stand up before ony placed an ear-splitting smack on your ass, and your mouth produced coherent language for the first time since eren got there.

”’ren, p-please”, you whined out, neck starting to ache at the angle ony had your hair pulled back.

”don’t make her beg, eren”, ony’s pout was back as he taunted his friend, ”she just wants you, jaeger. give her what she wants”, ony’s words seemed to be a double-edged sword. but yours were so saccharine; escorted out of your mouth by the spit pooling at the corners of your lips. your plump, glossed lips that he knew would taste sweeter than his dreams would ever allow him to conceive. eren didn’t know what ony was planning, but he did know that if you were involved, then he would be as well. so he sat back down, hands rested on his thighs, as his legs sat spread.

for a few minutes, all he did was watch; his eyes transfixed on how well you took your boyfriend. from what eren had observed, ony would have to pause every once in a while and mumble something about how tight you were. hatching thoughts in eren’s mind about stretching you out on the very couch he had seen your face pressed into, as ony fucked the air out of you. he daydreamed of your walls hugging him until he came on your back and ass cheeks, instead of his phone screen. he didn’t even realise, but the thumb that had rubbed his tip had been substituted for his palm—rubbing circles on his dick, as his hips would buck up into it every now and again.

”how it look from back there, eren?”, ony smirked, and eren couldn’t think of a single thing to say. ony’s hands would grab and knead at your ass cheeks, spreading them to show eren just how well you took him. the image alone made eren’s central nervous system break down, causing his head to fall back to lean onto the back of the dining chair.

”shit, i’m cumminggg”, you mewled, and eren’s hands pressed harsher into his throbbing dick.

”it’s okay, ma, daddy’s got you”, ony kissed your forehead; the gentle affection was reserved for above his neck because, below that, he was fucking up into you ruthlessly. and you came around ony’s length, moaning his name as your forehead fell to his chest. this man had been fucking you for at least an hour now, and he had already finished inside you once, but he just wouldn’t stop.

”but you still have some energy for our guest don’t you?”, ony looked to you, and you just nodded weakly. to which he replied with a peck to your lips, before two of his fingers opened your mouth and rested on your tongue.

”come help my sweet girl, eren. her mouth is lonely.”, were the words that led to where you were now; on your knees on the couch with ony’s hands bruising your hips with his harsh grip, and eren’s tip inching deeper into your throat. his shirt was folded, and tightly between his teeth, as you sucked the soul out of this man. the way the wetness and warmth of your mouth enclosed around him, mixed with the palming he had been doing earlier, made it very hard for eren to keep himself together. the very second your lips had wrapped around his tip, he was ready to nut. but the view beneath him was not one to be taken in in passing. you were looking up at him so innocently, even though your mouth was far from that. he could only imagine what your pussy felt like, especially when ony would make snide comments like,

”i wish you could see what i’m seein’ right now”, closed off with a smug chuckle, just to get under eren’s skin. because he would never get to fuck you—as petty as ony was, he had a line, and that line was anything below your mouth. he had made it explicitly clear that eren was not to touch anything that wasn’t on your face. meaning he had free access to your mouth.

”you can be rough with her, she can take it”, ony had said, but eren just didn’t have it in him to recklessly fuck a face as pretty as yours. you could tell he was hesitant, because his hand had just been sat on the side of your face the whole time. its only movements being his thumb stroking your cheek softly. so you picked up his other hand and put it on the other side of his face. now he was cupping it, and you looked up at him, bottom lip puckered out slightly to say;

”p-please ‘ren”, you cooed, ”please f-fuck my throat”, and those words sealed your fate.

because the next time eren would enter your mouth, he wouldn’t be as gentle as he once was. he would barely give you a chance to adjust to what was happening before he was fucking into your throat; one hand on either side of your face, as ideas of what your pussy would feel like instead ran rampant in his mind. from that moment onwards, there was no one in that room but you—and even you were disappearing as his sole focus rested on your mouth and throat.

”i see why ony don’t let nobody near you now”, he grunted out, and ony just smirked at him, ”i wouldn’t wanna fucking share you with nobody neither”, he muttered. so lost in you, he didn’t know what he was saying. but his words worked wonders on you, making you wetter than you already were and aiding ony. his thrusts became rougher because of how wet you were, and they both developed a rhythm; ony’s thrusts would push you to take more of eren in your throat. and eren’s delirium would travel to his hips, making him push himself into you harder, bouncing you back onto ony’s hip bone. the back and forth tightened the coil in your stomach until one more meeting of ony’s tip and your cervix made that pleasure spring out into every limb in your body. tears from your overwhelming orgasm, and eren harshly abusing your throat, fell profusely. only ever having been with one man at one time, the sensations pinballing you in every direction made your body numb. the only thing you could do being trying to voice how good you felt. but your moans were muffled by eren’s dick in your throat. but their vibrations sent his senses into overdrive.

so in the heat of the moment, he reached a hand over to grab at the ass cheeks he’d been fantasising about for days. but ony’s hand beat him to it, smacking the brunette’s hand away. it was only then that eren was catapulted back into reality,

”the fuck you think you doin’?”, ony’s words were short, but they were intimidating enough for eren to murmur out a ‘sorry’. and once that earth shattering nut settled and you regained your bearings, you pulled eren out of your mouth, and tapped his tip on your tongue. that’s when he felt a weird feeling in his chest. and that feeling would roll down to his stomach, doubling in on itself as it did so, until he felt like he was making a mistake by looking that deep into your eyes. incandescent and doe-like, they twinkled up at him as you opened your mouth, only to stick your tongue out. it took eren a second to connect the dots, but once he did, he shook his head at you.

”why~?”, you whined, and he just shot a look at the man behind you to which you replied, ”it’s fine, ony said to give me what i want. and this is what i want”, eren wasn’t about to argue with you, especially not on something he wanted so bad. so his hand would grab your face, before a string of spit hung down to your tongue. he wouldn’t even have to tell you to swallow it, you just did it on your own accord, and he felt some of the nut that had been so desperately trying to hold back, leak out a little bit. he felt his release edging closer at the sight of fluid dripping down your chin. just knowing that it was a culmination of his precum, your spit, as well as his own, made his dick pulsate. hands would, once again, find themselves rested on either side of your face, as his hips began fucking it again. but faster than last time.

if he could have it his way, eren would just fuck your face for a few more minutes, before having to trouble his mind with where the fuck he was meant to nut. because ony obviously wouldn’t allow it to be on your face, so where would it go?? but, those troubles came quicker than he’d hoped and, unaware of his stress, your hands moved to stroke his dick as your mouth focused on his sensitive tip. eren’s hips only hastened, his loud moans and whines only meaning one thing,

”fffuck, i’m gonna cum”, he groaned out.

”not in her mouth you’re not”, ony scolded, his eyebrows scrunched as his own nut was within arms reach. and eren just looked to him with extreme confusion on his face.

”thennnghh where, ony?”, he whined out, looking down at your lips still latched onto his throbbing tip.

”be a good boy and get a tissue or somethin’.”, his eyes locked with his friend’s was not how eren imagined this ending. so, as pissed as he was with ony’s self-satisfied suggestion, he had to listen to him and pull himself out of you before snatching a few tissues from the tissue box on your coffee table. with your mouth wrapped around him, his release would’ve been imminent, but now using his hands wouldn’t be enough for him. that was until, a gentle hand grabbed at his wrist, putting two of his fingers inside your mouth and sucking on them the same way you had been sucking his dick a few moments away. all while maintaining eye contact. knowing what that felt like around his dick, was enough for eren to nut into the tissues, abs tensing as he hunched over slightly.

”shit, y/n.”, was all he said before taking a few deep breaths. he’d sit on his heels for a few moments before standing up to clean himself off, and get rid of the tissues.

when he came back, more tissues in hand and cleaning himself off, he was greeted by the scene of ony just nutting all over your ass cheeks and back. eren had to bite his lip to stop him from moaning out at the face you made looking over your shoulder; coquettish eyelashes fluttering as you looked at the man behind you. his hands hadn’t stopped moving, but they were no longer cleaning. and he didn’t even notice the change until that familiar feeling in his dick returned. and luckily his reflexes were fast enough, otherwise he would’ve just nutted all over the floor. his whole body leant on one of your loveseats, as his teeth stamped a red line underneath his bottom lip.

”fuck”, eren spoke under his breath, his head finally rose to lean back on his shoulders.

”the fuck are you still doin’ here?”, ony grumbled out and, with the little strength you had left, you slapped him lightly.

”be nice”, you chided gently, and ony scoffed, grabbing some tissues from the box to wipe up the nut on your back.

”i just let him face fuck my girlfriend, how much nicer can i get?”, ony then got up to put the shirt he had discarded on your body, before putting his boxers on, and walking over to eren.

”imma run her a bath and, when i come back, you better be gone”, ony began walking to the bathroom, only taking ten steps away from his friend before pausing, and turning around, ”and eren?”,

”hm?”,

”you tell anyone about this and i really will kill you”,

#nanaminsmooninc #aot x black reader #aot x black y/n #onyankopon x black reader #ony x black y/n #aot onyankopon #ony x black reader #eren x black reader #eren x black fem!reader #eren smut

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k-ra · 1 year

Text

Don’t Look Away

Tommy Miller x F!Reader

Summary: When your parents decide to move across state, you find yourself in a new neighborhood with a new life ahead of you. Tommy Miller was new. And he was exciting. As the two of you grow up together through the 70s, you encounter forces that bring you together and more that tear you apart. The story shows each stage of your life together, including the good and bad ones, and shows just how easy it is to love Tommy miller, as well as how difficult Tommy Miller can be.

Warnings: none this chapter, but there may be some in the future! No use of Y/N

A/N: here it is!! The prologue is finally out. I can’t say when the next update will be, but it’s soon. Super big focus on music in this story because I’m a big 70s music fan lol…anyway that’s it from now sooo enjoy

Prologue

1964, Texas

Tommy Miller was a name you had engraved into your brain. Whether it was his mom calling him in for dinner when the streetlights came on, the teachers at the school cussing out his behavior, or his older brother’s gruff voice trying to get his attention when they threw the ball around outside, it seemed the whole neighborhood knew Tommy Miller. That was just the way it was supposed to be. That was just the kind of guy he was. It was how he was raised and how he stayed. Sure his brother Joel was pretty well known, but he kept to himself a little better than Tommy. Tommy was a name you just knew.

Everyone knew him to be a handful, that much was certain.

When you met Tommy, he was a twelve-year-old boy who hadn’t yet hit his growth spurt. Still with a squeaky voice and an awkward haircut that his mom probably did using a bowl. He wore clothes his mom bought at the mall in town that were too short or two long in places they shouldn’t be. But hey, that was what being twelve was like. He had a little gap in his bottom teeth and a small chip in his canine. But you only saw that when he laughed really hard or yelled really loud.

Your first introduction to Tommy Miller was when the day you moved into your new neighbourhood you had to start calling home. It was a sweltering hot July day-the kind that was not typical, even for Texas. It was the type of day that gave the town a yellow hue. Between the grass that could be passed as straw, dried out and waiting for the next storm and also the yellow of the houses that look the same. The bright orange sun made the sky feel more yellow than blue, and anyone who didn’t know what the South was like, would see this as the apocalypse. It felt like it too. Thickness filled the air that made it feel like a marathon to breathe, and the church services considered what they did to upset their God. It surely must be the rapture. There were no other excuses for this punishment.

Days like these were pleasant for families with pools, or air conditioning-their own Messiah in the current Judgment. But for families such as your own, chores like moving into a house became 1000 times more difficult. Not like that was much of an issue for you. Your job was to “stay out of the way” as your parents both so kindly put it. That wasn’t something you found yourself needing to interfere with either. Parents had a language where they didn’t have to say anything, but you knew what they meant. And today they weren’t messing around. They truly meant to stay out of the way. They were not quiet with their curses and groans as they tried to get the furniture up the steps and into the front door of the new place they called home.

The tough part was waiting for everybody to get the furniture into the house. Despite asking to bring your bed first so that you at least had somewhere to sleep, your parents insisted on bringing in the more difficult appliances and furniture first. The pavement of the steps leading you to your house had gotten too hot to sit on, leaving you awkwardly standing on the grass next to it, with your dads' cassette player he handed to you to keep you busy. He had a Rolling Stones cassette playing inside that made you feel cool like the high schooler you’d see driving around listening to it. Mom thought their music was a bad influence, something about them being degenerate. But at this point, she just wanted to keep you preoccupied.

“Hey pal, you uh, don’t have to wait for us to load all the stuff up, know. It's gonna take us all day.”

“I know Dad, it’s okay.” you shrugged, taking off the headphones that were too big for you.

He sighed for a moment, taking a second to wipe the seat off his forehead with a cloth. His shirt was drenched with sweat, and your mom wasn’t much better.

You could tell he was thinking something for a moment, before the both of you heard:

“Tommy Miller, you better bring me back all my change this time!” a woman's high but gruff voice called as a boy made his way out of the house to the left of yours.

Your fathers eyes followed the sequence of events, mirroring your own. A gear turned in his head-you knew this because when he thought really hard, you could see an extra wrinkle between his eyebrows. “Why don't you go introduce yourself to the neighbours?” he offered, rummaging through his pocket and pulling out two dollars. Your eyes widened as though you'd been handed the key to the city. But as a ten-year-old, this was much more valuable. “While you're at it, get yourself some ice cream, yeah?” You admired the money and he ruffled your hair with an affectionate chuckle. There was a twinkle in your eye that led him to a warning. “Okay, okay, but don’t spoil your dinner or your mom will kill me.” As if she heard, she called for your dad's help setting up something inside.

And just like that, the day was yours and the heat no longer felt so excruciating. You couldn't help but skip down the steps, not worrying about your untied shoelaces. Your attention was called to refocus on the introduction part of your dads instruction. It was clear that the boy was on a mission, already meters away from his house. The boy was further in the distance, but you didn't want to let that get away from you. Despite the cloudless sky, or the sidewalk that was coated with a layer of blur from the heat, you ran down to catch up with him. “Excuse me!” you called.

With a slight jump, the boy with the poorly cut hair and awkward fitting shirt and gapped teeth turned to look at you for the first time. He looked back forward. “Jesus! You scared me girl,” he. You almost laughed at the prominence of his Texan accent. Sure you just moved here, maybe this town was known for a thicker drawl on the words. “Wait, I know you. You’re that girl who moved in next door. The new neighbours.” It was clear then that maybe he wasn’t totally in his own world. Or maybe you were just starting to be a part of it.

“That I am,” you said with a toothy smile as you extended your hand. He seemed a little confused-likely not used to shaking hands outside of baseball games ending. “Where ya headed?” you asked, as he started to walk, his feet kicking a rock in front of him, letting it roll a couple feet in front of both of them.

“I dunno yet. Maybe was gonna head to the general store. Ma said it's too hot to go far.” he shrugged, and you could see the resentment in his face. Was it the resentment about the heat, or his ma? A glint in his eye told you it was both. The resentment stemmed from anything that held him back-the way wild horses felt when people thought they could ride them. Tame them. It was new. Exciting. You took your turn kicking the rock at your feet.

The hum of the cicadas and the buzz of the hellish heat seemed to quiet down because the ringing tune of heaven came from down the road.

The ice cream truck.

Just like that, Tommy looked at you-right at you, like he’s known you forever, his brown eyes opening in wonder and excitement. There was a language of kids on hot days when they heard the ice cream truck. An agreement. A bonding moment. In the distance, the white truck came rolling down, and you were convinced this was a blessing. Like two olympians in the 100 meter sprint, you and Tommy began running towards the white truck, racing each other and yourselves. Before you knew it, the both of you were laughing, as Tommy waved his arms in the air, begging the attention of the truck. You shoved the cassette player under your arm and kept the headphones around your neck.

“Over here!” he yelled with a squeaky voice boys his age tended to have. The truck pulled over for the two of you. Meeting halfway, and it took everything in you not to fall onto the dry, yellowish suburban grass beneath you. You were sure It’d leave scratch marks

A part of you wanted to shove first in line to get your ice cream and a part of you wanted to let Tommy go first. So there you were, waiting your turn. Tommy went first in ordering his cone-maple walnut, and you followed, ordering your own favorite flavor.

“Hey, can I try that?” He asked you, after you both began to dig into the refreshing sweet treats. You nodded, extending the cone. He did the same. Tommy told you next time, he was getting the flavor you had. In the moments proceeding the ice cream truck driving away, you two kept walking , letting the sticky melted ice cream run down your hands. The neighbor boy licked it off his hands, wiping the rest on his shorts. He didn't seem to care much for cleanliness which caused you to giggle.

In the corner of your eye, you noticed him rummaging through his pockets. “Y’know, i still have some money for a soda. Wanna come with me?” he asked and you couldn't help but nod. The day had plenty of time left in it, and you knew you would miss dinner. There probably wasn’t even anything to make dinner with yet.

“There's a store a few blocks down. Cheapest sodas in town. Ma told me if I go, I gotta get enough for the rest of my family. But…” he paused, taking out the change he had and counting it twice. “I got enough if you wanted one too,”

So you agreed, and the two of you set course for the store. Along the way, your conversation picked up on a bunch of different topics. Tommy seemed particularly intrigued by your cassette player. He noticed it when the both of you were stopped at a red light. “That thing yours?”

You considered lying for a moment. To pretend you had a cassette player all of your own.

But you didn’t, “my dads,” regret wiggled its way into your words.

Tommy didn’t mind. He began asking about your music taste.

You listen to Elvis?

Yes.

Johnny cash?

Obviously.

Ritchie Valens?

Here and there.

Beatles?

Yes.

That was a trick, he said. He thought the Beatles were too popular. Or too many girls liked him. You’d convince him otherwise, later.

In the cool air of the store, a small bell signaled your arrival, and you followed Tommy through the unfamiliar store to where the sodas were. Tommy got an orange flavored one and you got your own preferred one, of course letting Tommy pay with his moms money. “Do you like the Rolling stones?” you took your turn to ask, as the two of you left the store. He took a seat on the corner and you followed, ignoring how it burned your bottom, leaving an imprint on your shorts from the uneven gravel.

“I love em!” he said. There was a twinkle in his eye as he looked over at you, and you took the opportunity. Maybe you both said yes because it was cool. Maybe you both really did like them. Next to Tommy, you handed him the headphones and cassette player, pressing the on button for him. At this point you couldn't remember what song played. Something from their latest album. Tommy liked it. That was the first time you noticed the chip on his canine tooth. His smile was wide as he turned back to you. He began talking about how you’d like a Johnny Cash cassette his mom had at home.

Both of you later picked up on the change of colour in the sky, and how the heat calmed, and how the cicadas quieted to make room for the grasshoppers in the evening. You watched everyone return from work, their own little worlds consuming them, as you convinced yourself Tommy’s did. The two of you silently agreed it was time to go back. The streetlights would be coming on soon. Something told you that Tommy didn’t really care-but he knew you did. So you followed the same path as before, and when the rock from before appeared in your trail, you and Tommy raced to kick it first.

It was when you both saw your houses just as they were before, still and warm and waiting, you decided to ask,

“Hey did you wanna be friends?” The question was sudden, but you had realized how much fun you had today. You realized how disappointed you were that you were going to go back inside to your family again.

Tommy took up the steps to his own house, as you did yours. Neither one of you went in. “Yeah, why not.” he said with a laid back smile. “What are you doing tomorrow?” The question was phrased as though it was separate from the conversation they were already having. As though he came up with this idea all on his own. You both stood on your own porches looking at each other from where you stood in the shade. Not much use for shade now, as the rays of hot sun calmed down in the evening.

“Dunno, why?”

Tommy paused for a second before nodding back towards his fenced off backyard. “We got a pool. Supposed to be another hot one tomorrow.”

“Cool,” you shrugged as though you weren’t super excited to have a new friend who lived right next to you. Tommy kept his hands in his pockets as if he wasn’t excited for the same reason. You’d both quickly discover that you weren’t as cool as you thought. You’d both discover that you didn’t care. “I'll come by. Want me to bring some chips and sandwiches?” you offered.

“And maybe some more cassettes,” he suggested, nodding to the device still in hand. You ran a thumb over the surface, realizing how far this thing got you today.

“You got it.”

Tommy looked like a lightbulb went off above his head. “Oh! My name is Tommy Miller. In case Ma asks who you're lookin’ for.” You have your name back. He practiced it on his tongue.

The lights lining the street came on. “See you tomorrow, Tommy Miller,”

And you did. And nearly every day after that. For the rest of the summer, you saw Tommy Miller.

For years later you’d keep seeing Tommy Miller.

And years later, he’d see you.

#Spotify #tommy miller #the last of us #tlou #tommy miller fluff #tommy miller x f!reader #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller fic #tommy miller fanfiction #tlou series #gabriel luna #tlou fluff #tlou fanfiction #joel miller #tommy tlou #tommy miller appreciation squad

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wackus-bonkus-maximus · 2 years

Note

THANK YOU FOR THE FELIGAMIIIIII. I love how Kagami sees straight through Felix’s mind games for his real intentions, effectively working as a lens for the audience to see Felix’s real character, which is surprisingly (and yet not at all surprisingly as you’ve laid the bread crumbs so well) equally kind and selfish. I love how you’ve explained a little bit of his core character and motivations here - that answer to why he hadn’t told LB and CN at the time, that simple ‘I didn’t want to’ said SO MUCH and made so much sense, especially when followed by his factual, almost overly understanding reflection on how Ladybug had wanted to use Adrien - OOF that was such a punch in the gut and sooo goood. I love it when the jerkass has a point. I love it even more when that point is that sometimes heroes are no different from villains when it comes to using people to meet their goals. I love how Felix just matter of factly accepts -without even a hint of resentment- that anyone who finds out the secret is going to think about getting their hands on the amok one way or another. I love how Kagami proved him wrong. And got to meet her MIL while she was at it who was just as outraged and unquestioningly supportive and emotional as I expected that was just the piece de resistance lolol 😭😂👌🏻 And we’ve finally gotten an answer as to why Adrien still hasn’t committed suicide -at least I think?- it’s because he learned he’d take Felix with him right? That’s why he’s been holding off. Also I love how you gave Felix’s protectiveness over him a reason founded in self-interest and yet simultaneously used Kagami to show us it’s more than just that, that he genuinely does care - it reminded me of the earlier scene with Lila where Felix wished he could find some way to protect Adrien from her for good, which was a rare insight into his genuine love for his fellow feather sib. And of course now we know for a fact that Felix genuinely believed having the peacock would keep him and Adrien safe when he handed over his ring to Gabriel - after all, he wasn’t just handing over Adrien’s life, he effectively handed over his own life to Monarque too! Terrifying to realise Monarque can control one but kill both if it so suits him. Someone save our senti twins 😭

YOU'RE WELCOME! it was my pleasure 🐉🦚

if felix is the unreliable narrator, kagami is the untrickable reader 😂 i love how you describe him as equally parts kind and selfish because yes! he looks out for himself, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care about other people. if he has to choose between himself and another person, he'll make the cleverest decision instead of the most moral one.

as you can see, felix never assumed ladybug was pure hero. he suspected, as he does of everyone, that she would choose using a senti "for the greater good" over honoring their autonomy, because he's seen her do it. but it's not like he can judge her for that; she doesn't know what it's like to be a senti, or to love one. at least, she didn't. but yes in the end, kagami proves him wrong, and it's a surprisingly good end to the worst day of his life loloollol.

ahh it was cathartic for me to make kagami meet amelie. a daughter who needs a mother and a mother who will treat her like a daughter ❤️❤️❤️ we saw the start of something beautiful in that.

yes, adrien knows. the first time he let felix talk him down was because felix pointed out his suicide would be worthless, as monarque would just take the black cat miraculous for himself. later, when he found out about their twin bond, adrien realized he could never take himself out of the picture if it meant hurting felix too.

"I love how you gave Felix’s protectiveness over him a reason founded in self-interest and yet simultaneously used Kagami to show us it’s more than just that, that he genuinely does care - it reminded me of the earlier scene with Lila where Felix wished he could find some way to protect Adrien from her for good, which was a rare insight into his genuine love for his fellow feather sib." aah you're so smart anon! i was wondering if anyone would catch that! yessss, this feligami scene is an inversion of the felix & lila scene indeed. felix is a duplicitous person, his every action having a double meaning. while he of course doesn't want anything to happen to adrien, as that would mean something would happen to felix, he also genuinely cares about adrien's happiness. all that encouraging him to resist, standing up for him, covering for him while he runs off--he doesn't have to do that, but he does. he wuvs his bwother.

yes, felix thought that by having the peacock miraculous, he could dissolve the bond between him and adrien's rings and also maybe even their bonds to their proper amoks. he was wrong, sadly. only emilie can do that!

#save the sentitwins #odnlb #one does not love breathing #odnlb discussion #felix graham de vanily #adrien agreste #sentifelix #sentiadrien

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darylsgirl · 4 years

Text

He’s just like the sun. Daryl Dixon x Reader 18+ Smut

*Second ever Fanfic! Exciting! I hope you guys enjoy this! Please let me know if there is anything you’d change about it or anything you like! I would love some tips on how to improve! I will warn it does get pretty dark at points, but the story just kind of got away from me again haha! Younger reader and Older Daryl for the anonymous request! Hope this has lived up to your expectations! Hope y’all having a lovely day <3*

Warnings!: Domestic violence, Heavy cursing, Violence and Smut

Summary: Daryl had saved you from a herd of walkers, When you reached Alexandria he became distant and you started dating Spencer. He stayed away from you fully until Carol brought it to his attention that Spencer could be hurting you. Long slow burn. Smutty ending with Confessions of love :)

Part Two Part three

“Good morning baby” He said rolling on top of you kissing you swiftly.

“Good Mornin’ Spence' You replied squirming uncomfortably.

He enveloped you in his arms around you pulling you closer to him.

“Sorry Spence, but carol’s expecting me. I really have to go!”

His eyes flashed dark, He finally released you. “So just Carol? Or is there anyone else you will be seeing today?”

You pushed your hand to the back of your neck rubbing it uncomfortably. “Urm yeah i think it’s just carol, She did say something about Rosita popping by to give us a hand”

“Well you know what to do if anyone else turns up right? Or should I remind you?” He said with a smirk now.

Your eyes met his panicked now “No i promise only Carol and Rosita. I know what to do i promise baby”

Ugh you hated calling him that but you knew it worked. You looked back at him and could see your words had placated him for now. Running to the bathroom you quickly got ready for the day, Checking over your appearance in the mirror you were satisfied that everything would look normal to anyone looking at her. You tucked your shirt into your jeans wincing as you did to make sure this didn’t rise up and left the bathroom. Sighing a breath of relief when you saw that Spencer had gotten up and left. Running a hand through your hair you ran downstairs, laced your boots up hastily, Leapt off the porch and headed towards Carol’s house.

You always loved your days with Carol, She was the most incredible woman. Tough, unrelenting and takes no nonsense but yet the mother of the group and loves everyone unconditionally, You’re pretty sure she would die for any one of you. She made you feel safe and at ease which is two feelings that were hard to come by these days.

Smiling as you saw Carol in the front garden digging. You ran over and saw that there was a tray sitting on the porch with two cups of tea and some pancakes waiting. She nodded towards the porch “Go on help yourself Y/N. I'll be over in a minute” Another reason you just loved Carol. She. was. The. best. Cook. Even something as simple as pancakes you knew were going to be delicious. “So I heard through the grapevine it’s your birthday soon?” Carol asked. You smiled at her “Yeah,I’ll be 22 on April 16th. Not that i’m even sure when that is now”

“It seems silly now but sometimes i wonder what it would of been like to have my first drink, Never got a chance with the end of well….everything”

Carol looked over at you and checked the calendar. “Deana told me the date when we got here and I've been marking it ever since. Looks to be a week on Tuesday! Got anything nice planned?” “Nah, Just another day to me now!” You said shrugging.

“Is Spencer planning anything?”

“Um not sure, I don’t think i’ve told him if i'm honest”

“Well tell me then. If you could have anything in the world what would it be”

You smiled the answer coming so easy to you now “A sunflower, I would really love to see a sunflower again”

Carol nodded at you. “Now that would be something”

Smiling happily again as you sat down you pulled a plate of pancakes on your lap and ravenously ate groaning as you did. “Carol, these are sooo good. What’s the secret?”

“Y’all know if i tell you, i’d have to kill you” She said with a light hearted laugh and a wink.

You had quickly finished your plate using the tea to wash it down. You thanked Carol, Grabbed the tray and walked in to clean the dishes. Carol followed in behind you talking about the day’s tasks. You didn’t really pay much attention as you were happy to do whatever as long as you weren’t stuck at home or with him.

That’s when you heard him “Mornin’ Carol any o’ those fer me?” You body froze with fear, You needed to get out of here NOW. You scrubbed the plates and mugs as quick as you could and set them on the side of the sink to try. Spinning around you grabbed a dish cloth and wiped your hands. “I’m so sorry Carol, I just remembered I promised Spencer something, I have to go. I’ll see you soon?”

You started making your way briskly towards the door when a hand grabbed your wrist. “Y/N There a problem here?” You were too scared to look him in the eye, Those were your weakness so bright and beautiful. “No Daryl, Just cant be here” You muttered staring at your feet silently begging him to push and save you, But in true shy Daryl fashion he released your arm still staring at you.

Carol cleared her throat “I thought you had made a promise not that you couldn’t be here?” She walked over to you, also staring at you intensely. “Same thing, Not allowed. Promised Spencer” Carol’s eyes burned looking at you she grabbed your face pulling your eyes up to meet yours. “Not allowed?” She asked softer than you expected. You nodded your head slightly “Please Carol i have to go” You begged her scared. She gripped your face tighter, Her eyes wandering quickly across your face. You ripped your face from her hands and Carol gasped. Panic building in you again you turned and ran through the front door with Carol and Daryl hot on your heels.

As you hit the pavement you ran straight into him, You froze again,Fear in your eyes, your eyes downcast..

Spencer looked at you then looked at the porch seeing them both there he wrapped his hand around your lower back digging his nails painfully into your side. You jumped slightly. Spencer put his lips to your ear and whispered “Smile and wave and say goodbye to your friends” Putting an emphasis on the word friends. Tears stung your eyes.

You looked up at carol placing an unconvincing smile on your face, “Bye guys, Thank you for breakfast Carol” The second the words had left your mouth Spencer was dragging you by the hip back to the house your eyes still not leaving Carol’s in a wordless plea.

Back on the porch Carol turned to Daryl “Fuck, We gotta do something about that” “Bout what?” he asked puzzled “God Daryl you can be so blind sometimes!” “Didn’t you see her neck when she was leaving, Those bruises were finger marks. I’d bet my life on it” He looked over at Carol shocked “He like Ed?” She nodded mouth forming a thin line “The one thing that bastard was good for is he taught me to see the signs of that evil in others, That fear was mine not too long ago” She continued “We can’t just get involved that won’t help we need to watch him and catch him at it so he can’t make her lie”

Daryl felt like something inside him had broken, He couldn’t believe that prick was doing this to her, To Y/N, A Girl like that deserved to be treated like an angel. He wished he could have told her how he felt before all this and saved her the pain.

He had loved her from the first moment he had laid eyes on her. He had been the one to find her when they were on the road to DC. She was alone trying to fight off a herd of walkers with a determined look in her eye. Daryl had known he wasn’t supposed to get involved; he was supposed to be just observing and reporting back to the group. But the look in her eye had made him charge forward “Hey!! Over here! Follow me!” She hadn’t even given it a second thought she just ran towards him and swung her leg over the back of his motorbike and they had ridden off. It had happened so quickly neither of them had the chance to wonder if the other could be dangerous. They both had connected at a base level without suspicion.

Daryl had forced his bike to its limits, hightailing it back to the group with her arms around him. When he got back to them Rick had rushed forward to greet them looking warily at the pair, Daryl stopped the bike and started trying to explain to his friend when she fell sideways from the bike. Having to explain to the group that he didn’t even know her name was difficult but he just had to save her. By way of an explanation he just said “Any woman tha faces down a hoard alone earnt her chance”

Daryl hadn’t left her side until she woke up. Seeing his reaction to this woman the group didn’t question it and just accepted her as one of their own.

Daryl smiled thinking back to all the moments you two had been together on the road to here, To alexandria which had quickly become home. Before here he had barely left your side, He had thought you were incredible. A complete badass. From the first day you had defended and helped the group as if they were already family. You were a perfect fit. You were everything he wasn’t Light and beautiful. He knew a woman like you would never want the dark twisted man he had become but he couldn’t stop himself from being around you. You were magnetic.

He never had the guts to tell you all of this, He knew you would reject him and everything your presence had healed in him would be shattered again. When they had gotten to Alexandria he had started seeing less of you as you had taken up your post at the infirmary and he had been going on more and more runs to keep the community fed and taken care of. He had started to wish for injuries just so he would have an excuse to feel your eye’s meet his again. He craved your touch with everything in him. But of course he could never tell you that, It would be so wrong of him. He was no good for you, he was atleast 20 years older for a start, An old redneck like him could never deserve a young beauty like you.

About a week after you had all gotten here someone else had noticed you. You seemed to rebuff his advances at first which gave Daryl hope. A few weeks later Daryl was sent on a long run and when he came back there you were on Spencer's porch wrapped in his arms, Laughing at his words. That memory was the most painful for him, He had just gotten up the guts after a very close call to tell you how much he loved you and needed you to be his and there you were, Someone else’s now.

He couldn’t help but imagine what would happen if you had in fact been his, He spent all of his nights wondering what it would be like to have you in his arms lay next to him, Wondering what your lips would feel like on his, How your skin would feel under his fingers, Your breath on his skin. All of these nights ended in a hurried and urgent tug as he let his mind imagine your hands were his. Moaning your name night after night. Always opening his eyes to the empty space beside him and the gripping pain in his chest.

“Daryl, Come in Daryl” Carol was waving her hand in front of your face. “Uhh Sorry, What did you say?”

“I said,'' Can you make an excuse to go to the infirmary tonight?” He balled his fists. He could definitely do that. He waited a few hours and then stormed towards the garage with Carol hot on his heels. He drew a deep breath and then punched his hand through the glass cabinet. Drawing his hand back and watching the blood seep down his wrist. Looking up at Carol expectantly “That’ll do nicely Daryl” With a glint in her eye. She turned and grabbed a rag off the side and wrapped it around his wrist. You go to the infirmary ill get Y/N. Daryl couldn’t feel the pain of what he had done yet, He could just feel the adrenaline rushing through him.

Carol ran across and down the street stopping to take a deep breath before knocking she heard a whimper from inside. Fixing a panicked look on her face she knocked urgently. A few moments later Spencer tore the door open, “What?” He demanded. Unfazed Carol replied “Hey spence! I’m sorry to intrude so late but we need Y/N Its urgent” She smiled sweetly at him. “Whatever you need her for you either tell me or you can wait till tomorrow” Showing him the blood on her hands. “Well um there was an accident and we can’t find denise.” She said in an innocent voice. Hearing this you appeared at the door and looked up at spencer. “I need to go, I promise i'll be quick…. Please?” You smoothed your hair over your neck again and started out of the door towards Carol when Spencer caught your wrist pulling you back to him. “You better be, I aint done with you yet” He growled into your ear, Then pushed his lips to yours put a fake smile on his face “Okay honey, Be Careful”

You took this moment to pull your arm from his following Carol pressing her for more information. You arrived at the infirmary and saw Daryl on the steps blood dripping down his hand onto the steps. You unlocked the door and ushered him and Carol inside.

Sitting Daryl down and not meeting his eyes you delicately removed the rag from his wrist and grimaced. Knowing better than to ask questions you set to work with a pair of tweezers and started removing the glass shards from his hand and wrist before cleaning the wound, Stitching and bandaging it as quick as you could. You braved a glimpse upwards and saw his eyes searching your body and then your eyes.

Seeing those beautiful blue eyes hit yours you were fighting the tears. You wanted to spill and tell him everything. He had always had that effect on you all he had to do was look at you and you wanted to pour yourself into him. You had loved him from the very beginning, From the moment your eyes met you had craved him, Craved those beautiful strong arms around you keeping you safe from the world.

You had always wished he would show even a spark of interest towards you, Well he was always around but he acted so indifferent.

Engrossed in his eyes just staring at each other it was like there was no one else in the world, He was the sun pulling you in. His hand came up and moved the hair from your face, His fingers lingering before moving your hair completely away from your neck, his eye’s darting downwards inspecting you. His eyes grew dark then “Please Y/N what has he done to you?” his eyes were fixed on your neck as he reached forward and brushed his fingers across your throat tracing the bruises.

Your breath hitched in your throat enjoying his touch. Carol cleared her throat from the corner “Guys we got company” Daryl dropped his hand and darted forwards blocking the doorway as it flung open.

Spencer, He was fucking everywhere.

“Can i help you?” Daryl growled. “What are you doing man, Where’s my girl?” Spencer asked. “She’s Busy and she’s gon be busy for a long time. Why don’t you take off kid” Daryl said still not moving from spencer’s way “I’ll take off when i’ve got my girl, Get the fuck out of the way” You could hear the change in his tone turn from polite to the voice that sent fear through your bones.

You stepped forward. “I’m right here. It’s okay i won't be long” Daryl looked back at you pained “Yeah ya will. We aint letting ya go back with him” Roaring “Fucking look at yaself Y/N look at those bruises!” He span back at spencer “Ya needa take a fuckin hike, Touch her again ill kill you” He growled. Spencer looked amused “Yeah, Ok redneck scurry on to your moonshine and skinning possums'' He half laughed. “You think that little bitch wants you? She’s mine. Now get your ass here Y/N before i get fucking angry.”

Daryl was heaving now Carol rushed forwards and grabbed his arms as he went to lunge forward. You forced your body forward in between them both tears freely running down your face now. “It’s okay, Daryl I’m okay. I’m not worth it” You winced when you felt Spencer's hands dig into your already bruised hips again. Daryl saw this “Ya gotta be kiddin me Y/N Ya worth 10 o’ him'' His eyes searched yours again desperate. “Please Daryl don’t make this any worse” “You heard her white trash” Spencer then pulled you from the room back down the infirmary steps, Daryl watched as he pulled her down the street and threw her back through the front door”

Anger boiling through his veins he took off in the other direction, grabbed his bike and took off out of the gate and into the night.

A week had passed since that night, It had taken a week to recover from the beating he gave you. You knew the rules No talking to either of them now. You were to go to work and come home, No more out of hours calls. You watched when Daryl finally rode back into town. Covered in walker blood his face still contorted in anger when he rushed back into the house. You saw the light come on in the basement and watched as he smashed up what few belongings he had before settling onto his bed. This had become your favourite pass time you loved that you could see straight into his room and the garage when he was in there. Spencer had already noted they could see into this house and had kept the curtains drawn on all rooms at all times.

When you finally did go back to work Spencer walked you to and from the infirmary for the first week until he started to relax again. You liked it better when he relaxed, He could be sweet and loving towards you and you did everything you could to prolong it to avoid his rages again.

On the tuesday you now knew was your birthday, You went to work with a half smile on your face. Denise pointed over to a desk “That was dropped off for you earlier” You walked over and found a slightly dirty Pin. Flipping it over you saw it was a beautiful painted sunflower. Beaming you turned back to denise “Who was it?” “Ahh sworn to secrecy! Sorry Y/N” You playfully growled at her “ooh terrified! I’m more scared of them, than I am of you Y/N Sorry still not telling!” You laughed and decided to let it go and just enjoy your beautiful thoughtful gift.

Since Spencer had relaxed he had let you walk to work and back alone on the second day of this you heard him. “Y/N wait up!” Shit not now! What if he’s watching. You darted your eyes around and picked up the pace towards home. Running to catch up with you, Daryl ran in front of you and made you stop.

“Please not now Daryl, If he sees...I’m not allowed….I’m not allowed to be near you” You stuttered. You gazed up at him pleading. His eyes went hard. “No! NO! I aint allowing it! Ya not going back to him Y/N I aint allowing him to hurt ya again!” You started shaking at his raised voice. Daryl noticed this and looked to be struggling with himself before finally lunging towards you and taking your head in his hands making your eyes stay on his. There it was again he was the sun and you couldn’t pull away even if you wanted to.

“I love ya Y/N, I fuckin love ya! I can’t watch him not treat you like how you deserve! I’ll take care of you please, please let me i'll protect you with everythin i have!” His eyes looked wild and desperate. You couldn’t stop yourself, you pushed your lips forward meeting his hurriedly matching his desperation. The world could have ended again right then. You wouldn’t have cared one bit as he wrapped his arms around you and you melted into him feeling safe at last.

Your hands made their way to his hair no longer caring who was watching and pulled him closer to you. He pulled away reluctantly. “Come on we’re getting ya stuff now. I’m not having ya there for another second '' Your brain still foggy you nodded giggling and let him pull you towards your house. Panic setting in again. Spencer should still be on guard duty the house should be empty so why were you so afraid.

You looked back at Daryl and melted again. “Wait here, I won't be long, there's not much I need” He nodded at you taking a defensive stance and staring into the street.

You ran up the stairs and threw the door open shutting it softly behind you and ran up the stairs grabbed your bag from under the bed and stuffing clothes in at random, Next you turned to the bathroom and grabbed your tooth brush and other bits. Smiling at yourself in the mirror not recognising the happy woman in front of you.

It was then you saw him leaning against the doorway behind you. “That was quite a show Y/N, Well there’s only one thing for it! You ain’t goin nowhere with him with fuckin nobody but me bitch” He smirked at you and dove forward grabbing fistfuls of hair in his hands he threw your head forward smashing it into the mirror. You screamed begging him to let go as he continued to pull your head back and hit it back into the wall. You could feel the blood running down your face. Clouding your eyesight. Suddenly the hands were gone you gripped the sink fighting to stay up right. Grabbing a cloth and rubbing the blood out of your eyes you saw Spencer being dragged from the room. You followed as quick as your stumbling legs would carry you.

You made it out onto the street to see spencer in the middle of the road and Daryl over him punching everywhere he could “I fuckin told ya, I’d Fuckin told ya i’d kill ya” He was screaming into his face. You looked around and saw a crowd had formed. Deana, Spencer’s mother was screaming for Daryl to stop. Which brought Rick and the others running. Carol ran straight for you taking your head in her hands and pulling you close. Whispering “It’s okay now Y/N. It’s okay i’ve got you”

Rick ran straight at Daryl pulling him away from Spencer. Spencer pulled himself up and spat the blood from his mouth glaring at you now He pulled himself to his feet stumbling, eyes locked on you glaring he screamed “You little bitch” and ran at you. Rick couldn’t restrain Daryl any more as Daryl ran forward grabbing Spencer and throwing him to the ground again just before he reached you. Rick and a few others ran forward again and stood in front of you guarding you from Spencer. Daryl saw the fear in your eyes and rounded back on him.

Crouching over Spencer on the floor Daryl yelled “Ya don’t listen do ya, Rick was trying to save ya miserable piece of shit life” He punched him again. “Me, I want to see ya as an undead asshole and I wanna be the one to do it, So keep pushing it Spencer” He pulled his crossbow from off his back and pointed it at the man on the ground, his chest heaving now. A strangled cry left your throat then.

Pushing yourself out of Carol’s arms you made your way to Daryl, You put your hand over his on the bow and pushed it down. Internally begging him to look at you. He finally did “Please Daryl it doesn’t matter, I don’t matter. I won’t have you being a murderer for me”

Daryl’s eyes softened before turning back to spencer “Twice in a day someone else has saved ya fuckin life. Don’ even think about coming near her again. I even smell you near her or catch you looking at MY WOMAN again. ill rip ya fucking eyes out” He roared

Deanna was at her sons side now “He gets it please, Please leave so i can take my son home”

Daryl turned to you “Come on baby, We need to go home too” He dropped his crossbow back over his shoulder and wrapped his arm around your shoulders pulling you to him and pressing his lips to your forehead. You instantly relaxed grinning into him and you let him guide you again over to his house and down to his basement. You looked at him sadly when he pulled his arms from around your shoulders and turned to lock the door behind you pulling the deadbolt across.

He turned smiling at you “Come on let’s get a good look at ya” Putting his hand in yours he brought you to the bed and sat you down inspecting the gash on your head. “We needa get you to Denise to get ya patched up” You grimaced “No she will be busy with him, I can do it. You got a needle and wire?” He looked at you shocked “Um yeah somewhere here” He busied himself getting those for you. He came back to you with them and some rubbing alcohol and bandages “Ya sure ya don’t want Denise? I’d do it but i'd probably make it worse” You smiled at him again sighing “It’s okay Daryl, It’s not my first rodeo” You made your way to the mirror and calmly cleaning and stitching yourself up.

Daryl was half fascinated and half horrified as he watched you work. You looked so calm and didn’t even flinch when you were stitching yourself. It disturbed him to know you had probably gotten used to giving yourself medical attention. He waited patiently for you to be done. When you finally made your way back to him he pulled you back into his arms breathing deeply “I ain’t ever gonna let anyone hurt ya again Y/N not ever.”

You reluctantly pulled yourself away now looking up at him with tired eyes. “I um didn’t get a chance to get my bag. Could I borrow something? I think I need to lie down, If that’s okay? Or I could go ask Carol if she minds me going upstairs?”

“Ya kiddin aren’t ya? I aint letting you out of my sight” Getting nervous suddenly “Unless ya don’t want to be here. I aint gonna force you to stay or anything else'' You smiled at him again “Daryl i want to be here, With you. It’s all i’ve ever wanted” He grinned relieved, turned to his dresser and pulled out one of his shirts. “This alright?” You pulled the shirt up to your face smelling it briefly, It was clean but still smelled distinctly like motor oil and cigarettes. Just like him. You smiled sweetly at him “It’s perfect, Thank you”

You looked pointedly at him, He laughed awkwardly, lay on the bed and looked at the ceiling above giving you your privacy. You slowly started removing your clothes wincing at points where your skin was still tender. Gratefully pulling his shirt over you and Scooping your hair out of the neck.

“I don’t suppose the infamous Daryl Dixon owns a comb or brush does he?” You said amused. He jumped up again grabbing a brush from another drawer and bringing it over to you. His eyes assessed you “I don’t think ya going to manage to brush that out. Needs washin”

“Oh and you're the authority on washing now?” You winked at him. You brought your hand to your hair and realised he probably had a point, Looking at him meekly this time. “Sorry I'm being such pain. Would you mind?” “Course not Darlin” He led you to the bathroom just off his room. He grabbed a towel and some shampoo from the cupboard and handed them to you, He turned the shower on “Give it a sec, Generator needs ta kick in”

You shooed him out of the bathroom, Unwillingly pulling his shirt back off you and stepped under the shower. You couldn’t help but cry out the pain in your head was back, You ran your hand through your hair and felt a sharp pain in your palm. Reaching back you pulled out a piece of mirror that had embedded itself in your scalp, dropped it and let your head back into the water again, Whimpering again as you did.

Daryl came crashing back into the bathroom “Y/N You okay?” “I'm okay” You stuttered. Not convinced he lingered in the doorway a moment more before leaving.

The pain had started to recede and you enjoyed the water cascading over you. Once you had managed to wash the blood from your face and hair you turned the water off and stood naked in front of the mirror assessing the general damage to your body. This isn’t something you usually liked to do but it was time for the denial to be lifted and face facts.

Daryl heard the water shut off and when you hadn’t reappeared after a few minutes he went to check on you again and thats where he found you on the floor sobbing holding your chest. He rushed down to you and scooped you into his arms still naked and shaking from the cold.

“It’s okay Y/N I got ya now, I got ya always” He carried you to the bed pulling the towel with you and wrapping it around you. He lay you down on the bed stepping back. He finally saw the marks he had been searching for on you for weeks and he wished he hadn’t. They were everywhere old and new mixed together indistinguishable from each other.

He dropped to his knees at the side of the bed burying his head into the mattress at the side of you. “Y/N please tell me what to do, Ya want him dead. I’ll do it, Ya wanna leave, I’ll take ya. Ya want to be alone, Ya can have my home. Please tell me what you want. Anything. I’ll get it Ya.”

You looked at him sleepily “I just want to sleep” He looked at you standing and pulled the covers over you. “Okay, Ya need me shout and i'll be upstairs” You looked at him and panicked “No please don’t leave me” He ran his hand through his hand and was suddenly nervous again.

“Ok, Y/N move over” He put his arm around your shoulder and pulled you toward him, You nuzzled into his shoulder. “Thank you” You murmured groggily and fell into a deep sleep instantly feeling safe.

Daryl lay by her side all night. Watching over her as she slept. The adrenaline was still pumping through his veins from the day's events, He looked over at you worried as you started mumbling and thrashing in your sleep. He tried to calm you by pulling you closer to him and whispering “It’s ok Y/N Your safe now.” Her mumbilings became more frantic “noo, Pleasee stop” Daryl’s heart felt like it was breaking as he held you.

Suddenly you jolted upright sitting up with the ghost of a scream on your lips. You jumped up and dove across the room panicking, Collapsing into the corner hyperventilating. He was on you in seconds pulling you close again. Telling you it was going to be okay. It took you a minute to realise you really were safe and you relaxed into his arms allowing him to carry you back to the bed.

You stayed by Daryl’s side for the next few days, They had been amazing, Everything was starting to feel like it was before Spencer; Spencer had been staying with Deanna while he recovered from the beating Daryl gave him which gave you a chance to clear everything of yours out of there. You were offered the house but with the memories you had there you couldn’t stay and besides you were much happier in that little basement room with Daryl than you had been in that huge house with him.

Rick had agreed with Deanna that Spencer was to stay in her home and be monitored for as long as it took to see he had learnt his lesson and would stay away from you. The alternative being that Rick would let Daryl do what he wanted to him or he would be banished from the town. Depending on the severity of his possible future actions.

Daryl hadn’t said a word to you about that day since, You can understand him not mentioning Spencer or those events but he hadn’t brought up the kiss or made any form of move since. You had come to think that he hadn’t meant it and that was just him trying to get through to you.

You really wanted to hate him for it, For making you believe someone as amazing as him could possibly care about you but Maybe Spencer was right, Maybe he was the only one who could ever love you. The thought was painful but just as you had decided to face facts about what he had done to you, You also needed to face facts about yourself and your limitations.

It was only when you were both alone in bed that he ever slightly lowered his walls, When he would open his arms to you in bed and you would both snuggle while you slept. You would always wake alone with Daryl either working in the garage or out running jobs for Rick.

One morning you woke up alone as always and found Daryl in the kitchen waiting for you, Trying to keep the grin from your face “Good morning!” You said brightly. He looked at you exhausted. “Mornin Y/N, I have to go on a run may be a day or two, You gonna be okay?”

“Oh, Yeah sure. Do you need me to find somewhere else to stay while you're gone?” The happiness at seeing him already dissipating. “Course not, Me and Carol want ya here. Ya welcome for as long as ya want.” He then muttered “I don’t ever want ya to leave” under his breath.

“Thank you Daryl, You don’t know how much this means to me, so…? when are you leaving?”

“Uhm, Now actually. Just wanted to wait for ya to get up to let ya know, Anythin ya want me to keep an eye out for?” “No Daryl it’s ok. I couldn’t live with myself if anyone got hurt looking for something I wanted. The only thing I need is for you to come back to me, Unhurt…. Promise?” He smiled briefly at her taking her hand in his. “I promise Y/N. I promised to protect ya, It’ll take more than a few walkers to stop me keepin tha promise”

Cuddling up in bed that night you knew it would be difficult to get any sleep, It always was when he left even before when you were with Spencer. You could never quite get a decent night's sleep until Daryl was home safe. You snuggled up to this pillow on his side of the bed breathing in his scent imagining his arms were wrapped around you safe.

Half way through the next day he returned. Daryl and the group came flooding through the doors of the infirmary carrying an unfamiliar woman between them, She was passed out with blood covering her clothes. Wishing you had a moment to greet him, You and Denise flew into action looking over the woman and cleaning any wounds you could find. Once you were done and determined that she hadn’t been bitten and had no life threatening wounds, You stepped back “Is it ok if i leave you to finish?” You asked denise. She looked to you and then to Daryl pacing at the other end “Yeah” She nodded. “Can you fill those guys in?” You nodded back at her and walked over to them.

“Hey, She’s ok. No severe injuries Just a bit dehydrated and probably hungry. Shouldn’t be too long before she wakes up.” A few relieved mutters were shared around the group before they departed for home to see their loved ones. You ran into Daryl’s arms and then held him in front of you checking over him for any cuts or marks that may need to be seen to. “m’ok , Really Y/N I’m ok jus’ tired. Can we go home? I needa talk to you” He looked at you desperately.

You nod your head taking his hand and following him towards your house.

As you were walking you could feel his fingers nervously gripping your hand. He stopped suddenly and stepped in front of you. Reaching his hand to your jumper brushing his fingers over your sunflower, You looked at him with sudden realisation. “It was you?”

“I heard ya with Carol that day, I couldn’t let your birthday go by and not get ya anything” He blushed looking away from you.

You reached up and caressed his face gently pulling his face to face you again. “Thank you Daryl. That was incredibly sweet.” You pushed yourself up towards him pressing your lips to his softly, He moaned and tangling his fingers into your hair pulling you closer.” Just like last time it was over far too quickly, He started pacing in front of you.

“No.no.no” he muttered “I can’t do this, It will take me weeks to forget again” He started pacing faster, his hands ripping at his hair.

“Daryl stop!” You grabbed his hands pulling them out of his hair. “Please look at me! Why can’t you do this?! You told me you loved me for fuck sake and then act like it never happened! Tell me why!!” You were almost screaming, battling with your tears. How could he turn a moment so perfect into such a mess!

“I’m 24 years older than ya, Did ya know that Y/N? I’m a filthy good for nuthin OLD redneck, I aint go no right to be with someone like ya! No matter what i want!!” He stopped pacing and looked straight at you again.

“I don’t care about your age! Why would that matter? What about what I want Daryl? You told me that night if i wanted anything you would get it for me, Well i’ve decided. I WANT YOU! It’s always been you!” Your tears are flowing freely now. The nosey neighbours of Alexandria started to gather at the noise, Trying to tune them out and you turned back to Daryl. “WELL? Don’t go all broody Dixon on me now!”

He looked torn between pain and anger at the scene you two were now creating. Still not speaking to you.

“You know what, Fuck you Dixon” You put your hands up to the sunflower pin he had got for you, You pulled it off and threw it at his head. He caught it easily, finally breaking his silence. “Ya got any idea what i went through to get this for ya!” He charged back at you, stopping inches from you.

“Ya should care, I’m no good Y/N, I don’t deserve ya” He gazed into your eyes those brilliant blue eyes misting over. “That ain't your decision or your place to tell me what i deserve. It’s mine” You glared at each other for a moment before he couldn’t take it any longer he gripped your face again slamming his lips to yours now, His tongue urgently pressing against your lips begging for entrance. You opened your lips moaning as his tongue touched yours and took charge of it, Kissing you furiously. You moaned into his mouth feeling your eyes rolling back in your head.

You had never had anyone kiss you like this before, Everything else melted away all of your anger, pain and fear. All that was left was him, Glorious, Gorgeous all consuming Daryl fucking Dixon.

You heard Carol chuckle behind you “Hey guys, You might wanna think about getting a room. You’ve got quite an audience here” Daryl smiled into your lips as he pulled away. He turned to Carol “Ya know what i think we will” Quick as a flash he had bent down and grabbed you behind your knees throwing you over his shoulder and running with you back to your home and down into your favourite place. When he had locked the door he turned to the bed with you still over his shoulder and put you down gently on the bed.

“Did ya mean it Y/N? Ya really want me?” He looked down at you searching your eyes for an answer. “I have never wanted anything more in my life, I want you. I want all of you and i want it right now Daryl” You replied feeling the hunger from him burning you.

Still standing over you, His eyes growing dark. “Lie down” He growled..

Grinning you kicked off your shoes and pushed yourself up the bed laying your head on the pillow. He followed you shadowing your body with his pressing himself to you before leaning close to your face lips barely brushing yours.

“Tell me what else ya want Y/N…..Exactly what you want”

You looked at him nervously for a second seeing the lust in his eyes matching yours you decided to just go for it.

“I want your hands….Everywhere” As you spoke you felt his hands grab your hips moving slowly to your stomach then up and under your top. Frustratingly slowly, Your breath hitched as he finally pushed his hands to your breasts gripping them roughly.

He pulled his hands away and back down to the bottom of your shirt grabbing it and pulling it upwards you raised your arms and let him remove it fully. He reached back down to you, His hands quickly unclasping your bra and throwing it harshly at the wall. His hands were back to your chest, Rolling your nipples with his thumbs.

You moaned arching your back pushing your chest into his hands. He hit his hips into yours grinding on your core. “Oh shit Darylll” You moaned feeling how hard he was for you.

He moved his mouth to your chest feverishly kissing your breasts and nibbled on your nipple making you squirm. Daryl then kissed a line down your stomach to your hips stopping to bite each one gently.

Every touch was heaven, Every time he dragged his tongue over your soft skin it was like a thousand shocks spreading across your skin. He was undoing the zip on your jeans now, You lifted your hips to help him pull them off you. He settled between your legs pushing them wider open and running his finger over the material of your gratefully black lace underwear.

Daryl looked up at you. Lifting and turning you slightly to look at the back “Holy Shit ya need to wear these all the time!” Still without removing your panties he pressed his lips to your sensitive nub while his fingers scooped the lace out of his way. His fingers then moved to your opening feeling how dripping wet you had gotten for him.

“Shit Y/N that cuz of me?” He moaned as he pressed his lips back to your clit starting slowly circling his tongue around it and sucking gently. “Oh godd” You had never even get close to going down on you before, It was everything and more. You had to fight yourself from coming undone too soon, You wanted to savour every delicious second of this.

He plunged two fingers into you eliciting an even louder moan from you “Oh goddd Daryl! Please don’t stop, Don’t ever fucking stop.” You moaned between breaths. His mouth and fingers started moving quicker as he could feel your walls tightening on him and your breaths growing shorter, Panting for him. You couldn’t take any more and erupted feeling the wildfire of sensations running across your skin, Screaming his name. He slowed his fingers allowing you to ride your orgasm out onto him. When you slowed he put his lips further down on you licking every drop that gushed out of you. You entwined your fingers into his hair gently pulling him up towards you.

“You taste so sweet baby, I could do that all day” Your eyes grew hard as you felt your core growing hot again and the wetness returned at his words.

He leant down and gave you another kiss, You put your hands to his chest and pushed him onto his back on the bed.

“Your turn baby, I've been dreaming of getting my lips around you” You purred. “But first i need to see you, The man i’ve been dreaming of all this time” Moving your hands to his buttons he nodded at you briefly watching you crawl over him almost naked.

You quickly pulled his shirt off of him, Roaming your hands all over his tight muscled chest and down over his thick arms. Biting your bottom lip trying to memorise every single inch.

“If ya don’t stop biting that lip woman i ain't gonna give you a chance for those dreams to happen” He winked at you eyes blazing. You quickly dropped your hands to his jeans, Ripping his jeans and boxers down together and throwing them without a thought. You knelt between his legs licking your lips as you saw the size of him. He must’ve been at least 9 inches long. Your eyes went wide with need as you wrapped your hands around it you brought your mouth to his tip slowly licking the dew from the eye. Moving your hands you licked him from base to tip and swirled your tongue around the tip.

“Fuck Y/N Get that cock in your mouth now” He demanded. You didn’t need telling twice! You lowered your lips over him, Sheathing your teeth and pushing most of him in your mouth moaning as you felt his huge length hit the back of your throat.

“Y/N no gag reflex? Oh god how did i get so lucky” He groaned putting his hands into your hair and pushing your head back down. You choked as your mouth hit his base, your eyes watering, You hummed to vibrate your throat on his length before pulling up again. It was your turn to watch his eyes roll into the back of his head “Fuck Y/N fuckkkk Your mouth’s incredbile” You could feel your pressure building as you watched him fall apart under your lips. You bobbed your head faster and faster over him.

“Oh shit, Stop Y/N I’m gonna cum ” He moaned looking down at you seeing you had no intention of stopping. He started thrusting into your mouth meeting your lips in perfect time. It wasn’t long before he exploded down your throat holding your head down to his hilt while he emptied his load straight into your stomach. When he released your head you pulled off slowly then licked his full length clean swallowing every drop.

He watched you in wonder “Come here Y/N” You crawled back up him straddling his hips staring down at him sweetly. “Ya soooo fucking good at that” You brought your lips to his hungrily biting his bottom lip and started to grind your core onto him. You both moaned into each other's mouths enjoying the friction. You could already feel him below you growing harder again by the second.

“I need to feel you baby” You moaned into his lips. Daryl pushed himself upright and pulled you with him as he sat up against the bed head. Daryl put his hands under your hips lifting you up and positioning you over his cock, Swiftly moving your panties to the side he started to lower you on to him.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders holding your weight as you tried to fit more of him into you.

“Yesssss, So tight Y/N”. He groaned trying to push further. His eyes locked yours and saw you were struggling; he held you in place for a moment. “Ya ok?”

“I’m good, You're just so big.The biggest i ever…. It hurts a little” Softening his gaze He kissed you softly. “Let me help ya with that. He brought his mouth to your nipple swirling and nipping here and there while his hand snaked its way to your clit again following the same circle as his mouth, You could feel yourself getting wetter and able to take more of him in. You cautiously tested it out moving your hips slowly up and down until he had filled you fully. You thought he had felt good before it was nothing on this. Pure unadulterated ecstasy. You started moving faster, becoming more confident with the lack of pain.

Soon you were bouncing wildly onto his length screaming his name as he quickly brought you to another earth shattering orgasm. He brought your mouth to his kissing you swiftly “Shh baby ya know how thin these walls are. Carol & everyone on the street will be listening to ya!”

“Mmphh, I don’t fucking care let them hear how good my man is fucking me” You rode your high out enjoying every second when you slowed again Daryl lifted you again standing up with you still skewered on him, Carrying you over to the wall beside the door he slammed you into it. Bucking his hips into yours furiously.

“Y/N I’ve been waiting all ma daym life for a girl like you” He pushed his lips back to yours again. You melted into his lips his words dampening you for the third time, You hadn’t even known it was possible for someone to turn you on so much, To make you want them with every fibre of your being.

Daryl started panting faster now sweat dripping off of his glistening muscles, You could feel his cock twitching inside you as he jackhammered into you harder and harder each time.

“Ahhhh” You screamed “That’s it baby….Right there....Your cock is filling me so fucking good. Cum in me Daryl i need it”

“Oh fuck Y/N Ya so fucking tight, Ya fuckin incredible, I’m gonna cum for you Y/N”

You both hit your highs at the same time, You screaming his name into the air, eyes rolling backwards and him sinking his teeth into your shoulder exploding deep into you. You collapsed into his chest seeing stars as you felt him pulsing inside you, Your tight pussy milking him of every drop.

Panting Daryl carried you back to the bed laying you down gently and collapsing with you, He leant forward and pressed sweet loving kisses on your lips.

You curled into his chest exhausted, Looking up at him with pure love in your eyes.

“By the way, What you said that day….” He looked at you puzzled brain still cloudy coming down from his climax. He murmured into your hair. “What baby?”

“Well...I love you too. I always have” Daryl smiled into your hair. He chuckled “Well what a relief, How could i have ever known otherwise”

You jabbed him in the ribs gently “Hey, Not fair!” He pulled your face up to his and stared lovingly into your eyes.

“Ya know i love ya Y/N” His eyes grew serious. “I’d do anything for ya, I’d die for ya even”

Your lips met his in a sweet kiss. You couldn’t believe he was finally yours, Allll yours.

You snuggled into his chest feeling him tighten his arms around you and fell into a relaxed deep sleep.

Next Chapter ---->

476 notes · View notes

honsoolie · 4 years

Text

don’t rush | 04

pairing: Yoongi/reader

genre: slight enemies to lovers, college au, fluff, smut, classical pianist!yoongi, violinist!reader, they’re both actually really into each other but won’t admit it

warnings: excessive amounts of pining, explicit smut, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, semi-public sex, mutual masturbation

words: 10.3k

rating: +18

summary: You know, when Min Yoongi’s face isn’t screwed into an accusatory scowl, he looks exactly like the kind of guy you’d have no trouble falling in love with. Or, the conservatory au where Yoongi helps you get over your stage fright. In more ways than one.

a/n: thank you for waiting... if you've stuck around this long :") i've tried so hard for the past couple months to condense this story into the original length (3 chapters) but i've gotten attached and i'm afraid that this will turn into a longfic at the rate i'm going. so after this chapter, i'll be sure to post lots of drabbles of the scenes i couldn't fit in!! thank you so much for the wild ride, and without further ado, i present to you don't rush 04.

start from the beginning?

You can’t bring yourself to fault Yoongi for what happened that morning. You also can’t bring yourself to say that it was your fault either–or even that there may be a single person to blame.

24 hours of radio silence. No good morning text, no morning after–or really, afternoon after–text. Nothing.

The thing about silence–absolute silence, with the exception the low hum of the air-con, or the distant sounds of a city, or footsteps from the room above you–is how slowly it passes. Maybe that’s why you’re a music student, spending all your time filling the silence with your own music.

Silence is such an empty space–and can breed such bored thoughts. And where else for your mind to wander but Yoongi?

It’s not that you were waiting for a text from him, it’s just that… you were half-expecting a text from him. Like he owed it to you. Even if none of this had ever happened, he would have texted you good morning by now.

At least in your head, it seems fair that the onus is on Yoongi to text first. After all, he was the one who dragged you tightly by the wrist back to his apartment. He pushed you down on his couch, and in a very roundabout way, made you late for class.

It’s not that you let this whole affair happen to you, but he started it. So it’s his job to text first. That’s the excuse you use, for not being brave enough to do it instead.

It honestly feels a little pathetic that most of your thoughts outside of music and school are occupied by Min Yoongi. Even now, weeks after you’ve started talking to him, even mere thoughts of him elicit physical reactions from you.

Your heart rate picking up, skin flushing where your neck meets your collarbone… maybe you’re allergic to Min Yoongi.

It’s hard for your mind not to run wild with conclusions and assumptions after what happened between the two of you, even if a day hasn’t elapsed yet.

Why hadn’t he texted? Does he do this often? Did he hate it? Did he ghost me, and now I’m never going to hear from him again? Should I text him first? Why is this so hard?

Why do I care so much?

The worst part is, you can’t turn it off. The thoughts follow you throughout the day, a weight sitting on your shoulders as you flit from class to class, building to building, rehearsal to rehearsal. Once the sun dips below the horizon, you’ve almost completed the process of resigning yourself to never knowing the answers to any of your questions.

You make a note to yourself that you might start grieving the loss of any sort of closure–other than what Yoongi had given you the day before. All evenings this semester have been relegated to the confines of the practice room, so that’s where you head next after chamber music rehearsals end. Finally, the Bach partita has a purpose in your life other than plaguing your waking dreams–something to focus on other than Yoongi. But for God’s sake, it sounds pathetic when it’s put like that.

Your. Life. Doesn’t. Revolve. Around. Min. Yoongi. You tell yourself, punctuating each word as you march down the stairwell in the music building. You clutch your violin case to your body, seeking warmth in the cold plastic.

The universe likes to play tricks on people, and its language is irony. Yoongi taught you that lesson, the hard way.

So it almost makes sense that the next time you encounter Yoongi is when you collide head-on with Yoongi’s smooth chest as you speed-walk through the doorway once you’re at the foot of the stairs. Just as you dreaded (and knew was going to happen anyway), your cheeks light up, some light from deep within you turning on. You kick yourself for the fact that your entire body perks up in his existence, erasing the cold and the tiredness from the night before.

“Oh–I didn’t expect to see you here.” At the very least, Yoongi doesn’t look like he hates you. Or is disgusted by you. If anything, he looks a bit coy. If you could let yourself believe it, there might even be the warmth of fondness in his eyes, and even more incredulously, maybe the hard edge of guilt.

“Didn’t expect? Yoongi, I’m here more than my own room.” You laugh despite the thoughts that have been trailing you all day, sounding something like cherry blossoms floating on the new breeze that spring has brought. You feel like you’ve forgiven him for something that he didn’t do, even if he hasn’t said anything yet.

Just seeing him makes you feel better, the devil in the back of your head whispers.

“Right, right.” His answering laughter is familiar. Even now, ever after everything, he still has the audacity to smooth his hands over your shoulders, make sure you’re intact and okay. “Violin okay? You okay?”

You try not to let his scant touches send a shiver down your spine, just so you don’t give him that satisfaction, but you fail all the same. You manage a nod, but can barely bring yourself to look in his eyes. But is it for fear of seeing that warm tenderness again, or something else?

“So…” With no prompting from you, Yoongi slides a fingertip underneath your chin. It feels simultaneously casual and momentous, and you’re not sure which one you prefer.

Is this really happening right now?

He looks deep into your eyes, taking inventory of something that you’re too self-conscious to think about right now.

Of course, you’re self-conscious. You bump into your hookup a day after the fact, now that it’s nighttime in the practice rooms on the second floor of the music building. Both of you should be somewhere else, anywhere else, preferably drunk. How could it not be awkward, and how could you not feel self-conscious?

His eyes flick lower, to your lips, and you avert your gaze. Yoongi’s hand returns to his side, and he coughs.

“Sooo…” You say, digging your foot through the carpet, the warmth of his hands lingering on your skin. You play with the buckles on your violin case, just to give your hands something to do. You hope he says something first, because you’re sure as hell not going to do it.

“Got something to say?” There’s a hint of a laugh in his words. He coughs again.

“I thought you were going to say something,” You say, still not looking at him. It’s all you can do to not shrink away. In the dim lighting of the mouth of the hallway, there’s no way he can see your blush, but you turn away all the same.

He’s smiling like he knows something you don’t, or maybe like he’s purged the last thirty-six hours from his memory. “Let’s not be strangers, come on. Are you busy?”

“Not… particularly.” You commit to the words before you can finish the thought.

“Can you do me a favor?” Right. So he wants something from you. Of course, of course he wants something from you.

“What kind of favor?”

“I was going to print something downstairs, but now that you’re here, can you listen to my piece? I need a second opinion.” He sighs, as if remembering something sweet. “It’s time I made it even, right? I’ve kept you waiting for long enough.” He smiles, just barely, and yet it feels like a gift.

So that’s it. It’s confirmed. This is officially Not a Thing, you consign yourself to the fact. It’d be a lie to say that you aren’t a little bit relieved. At least you have an answer.

There’s no need for a great step forward that’s necessary. No more awkward conversations like these, no admitting of feelings, let alone reciprocation of feelings.

Nothing has to change between the two of you. Isn’t that what you wanted?

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” You say, like it shouldn’t have been a question in the first place. You hate that even despite his silence on the matter, you’re running back to his side. You hate that you’re happy that he still wants anything to do with you. You ignore the empty kind of ache in your chest, too hollow and too full at the same time.

You follow him down the narrow hallway, past the couch where it all began, and into the practice room. Of course, Yoongi’s already booked the only one isn’t a dingy cesspool.

He pats the space next to him on the piano bench, beckoning you closer.

“Sit down, don’t stand the whole time.”

“Don’t you need the space?”

“No, no, it’s okay. Come here.” If it’s even possible, your face burns even hotter when you sit down next to him, shoulders brushing just so. It’s harder to forget about the fact that you are hopelessly crushing on Min Yoongi when you’re literally touching him again.

It reminds you of all his touches from before, because it was good. The sex was good. If it had been awkward and fumbling, if Min Yoongi hadn’t been able to push you over the edge with only his mouth and that look in his eye, you would be a lot more inclined to leave those memories in the past.

You don’t need to relive the memory over and over, an endless reel. And yet, glimpses, flashes, disjointed stills of that morning still follow you everywhere. But you look at him now, silently flipping through the marked pages on his score, and now you see more than just a good lay. Looking at him now, in his natural state, you’ve fallen down the rabbit hole, you’re whipped, there’s no chance for you.

“I don’t have it memorized yet, please don’t judge me.” You try not to think about the way he had pulled you closer by your hips. You try not to think about what you might have thought was lovesickness in his eyes. You try not to think of the timbre of his voice, when he told you to come for him. You try not to think about that.

“Really, a pianist who can’t memorize his pieces? Sacreligious.” The delivery of your jibe falls flat. You steady the ricketing breath in your lungs. You’re nervous, and tired. Accepting that your Min Yoongi has absolutely no interest in you other than when he needs you for something isn’t easy, you know.

“Oh come oooon y/n, this is something I’m learning this semester.” He pouts, just like he had before the both of you had fallen into this nebulous mess of feelings. Or maybe, it’s all one-sided and you’re the only one feeling like things have gotten messy.

You poke him in the side, which you regret immediately after doing so. “I’m just joking. Show me your piece. Are you warmed up?” Yoongi turns pink, again.

You remember the pink dusting his cheeks when he was–right, you’re supposed to be forgetting that ever happened.

He runs his tongue along his lower lip, everything moving in slow motion. Your head is swimming.

Well, maybe things aren’t moving in slow motion, and it’s the proximity to Min Yoongi that’s making time distort. “Yes, yes, yes, I’m fine. Are you ready to listen?”

“Yeah. Go ahead.”

Yoongi hovers his hands over the keys. He does that pianist thing you’ve always loved, where he pauses before the keys, preparing to play.

He leans in slowly, sinking his hands down, pulling out a sound so sweet and, so, so solemn. This is a different Yoongi than the one thirty seconds ago.

You realize somewhat belatedly that the fluorescent lights, the same ones that erase any sort of proper time telling in windowless rooms like these, still make Yoongi look good. The light bounces off of him just right, his cheekbones casting a gentle shadow on the sloped panes of his face. Like the rest of him, there’s no harsh angles, just soft gentle slopes that feel like home. Like comfort. Your gut twists in yearning. The hollow of his cheekbone is the perfect place to kiss, you ponder.

Things should be easier now. All of it was a mistake. It’s in the past. It seems that Yoongi doesn’t seem to care at all. It should be forgotten about. Things, in theory, should be easier now. You should be able to carry on as you’ve always been able to. The path of least resistance, right?

He pauses, and begins what must be the main theme, cascading sixteenth-notes that sound about as tumultuous and troubled as you feel.

He looks like he’s about to cry. Sure, you’ve seen sleepy Yoongi, cranky Yoongi, even a little bit of earnest, pleading Yoongi. But whoever is in front of you is entirely different. He’s approaching the main theme again, hands jumping over the keys as if they were hot irons. You can see all the versions of him laid out before you. Younger Yoongi, hands too small to reach the tenths written in his score. Hungover Yoongi that shuffles into class a couple minutes late, remnants of a late night out drinking written all over his face. The Yoongi that holds your hands between his and tells you that everything is going to be okay.

When he reaches the final cadence, he doesn’t look at you immediately, still trained on the keys. His hands are still placed in the final chord, lifting them off slowly so the sound doesn’t quite fade away yet. The both of you stay like that, in the aftermath of what he just played. You hear the click as he takes his foot off the pedal. The tension that he was churning out doesn’t fade away when the sound stops. If anything, it gets worse. Blood rushes to your cheeks, the room warmer than it was before.

“So… that’s what I’ve been working on so far. I, uh, hope you liked it.” It’s shocking how that compelling spirit from just minutes ago dissipates into thin air. He looks vulnerable, naked despite the fact that he’s fully clothed.

“You’ve been holding out on me, Min Yoongi.” You laugh in disbelief, blinking away tears. God, you are so fucked. Sure, you’ve heard him play before, practicing with him. But you’re not practicing with him now, you’re watching. You’ve become the audience, and the dynamic has changed once again.

There’s been many a night where you googled his previous performances and competitions on Youtube, but this doesn’t compare. Not in the slightest. So this is what all your teachers were talking about when they were lecturing you about the importance of stage presence.

“Uh, wow. Wow.” You’re still tearing up, no matter how much you try to will it away.

You’re not even really sure why you’re tearing up or why you can’t stop. It’s usually difficult for music to elicit such a visceral reaction from you. Goosebumps, sure. That very specific thrill down your spine when you hear music that isn’t so much as something that you hear, but feel in your blood, thumping, alive, real.

But tears, no. That doesn’t happen.

It feels like your body is reacting to something that isn’t tangible, that you can’t see with your eyes or hear with your ears. Like there’s something else in the room that you can’t quite register. Like you’re crying despite yourself.

You desperately want to kiss him. You want to pull him close and breathe in his familar scent and feel him pull you closer. It feels like the only appropriate thing to do, rather than just say “wow” over and over, in that stupid longing voice because you don’t what else to say. This is too overwhelming. More overwhelming than what it feels like when he finally puts his hands on you.

It’s the only thing you want to do. You can’t imagine the night ending in any other way. It seems like it was prewritten in the stars, like the universe came together to stitch this scene together. Like it was fate for you to find him here, long after the sun disappeared over the horizon, practicing just like you were.

But you can’t, so you hug him. Like an absolute idiot.

You regret it as soon as your arms circle around his shoulders. Yoongi stiffens, as if startled, as if he wasn’t expecting the hug either. Then his hand come to awkwardly pat the space between your shoulder blades, as if this couldn’t get any worse. This feels like a consolation prize.

He can’t see your face nestled against his shoulder, but you cringe.

You feel the vibration of his laughter against you, his shoulders shaking, “You liked it that much?” You can feel the way his voice resonates in his chest, and like everything else about this ordeal, it’s overwhelming.

“Yeah,” You pull back away from him, relieved that the moment is over, “Yeah, I liked it. Winter Wind, right?”

“Yeah, fitting for this fucking weather.”

You laugh. “Look, thanks. But I gotta go, it’s getting late and I have a paper due tonight. Thank you, again. It’s really good.” You pick up your case, “You have good start, but keep practicing. Can’t stop until you have it memorized, ha.” You try to force a laugh.

You hope you don’t look like you’re fleeing the scene. (Except you are. You leave the building without even practicing. But you don’t tell him that.)

As you stream down the steps leading to the music building, the cool night air blotting away the swelling tears in your eyes, there’s something else that takes up residence in your heart: jealousy, and initiative.

You envy the lucky bitch that ends up with Min Yoongi. And if Yoongi won’t talk about it, then you will. You won’t let him drag you around on a whim without a real answer. You can’t bring yourself to wait any longer.

Min Yoongi doesn’t like you back.

At least, that’s what he tries to tell himself before he goes to sleep, as if lying to himself might make sleep come more easily.

The truth is, you are Min Yoongi’s favorite bedtime story. Like many other nights before, Yoongi falls asleep thinking of you, hashing and rehashing all the little details and inside jokes and past conversations. It’s a small comfort during this semester, thoughts of you keeping him warm.

Tonight, Yoongi is replaying the conversation from earlier, the way he saw you nervously rubbed at the tough calluses on your left hand while he was playing for you, out of the corner of his eye. It made Yoongi want to make you smile, laugh at his bad jokes, and maybe, if you’d let him, gasp against his lips. It’s been less than a day since he saw you and yet he misses your laugh.

That morning after class, you had sat up, blinking away the sun filtering through his shades, or maybe trying to clear the post-orgasm fog. Post- orgasms fog. Then you mumbled something about being late for class, a thin layer of sweat shining down to your chest.

You had thanked him, then laughed at the misstep. God, you were so dorky that you thanked him. How was he ever supposed to resist you?

How had the two of you come so far?

And the guiltiest indulgences Yoongi would allow himself in the middle of the night were the things he hadn’t experienced with you. Like a kiss. He hasn’t gotten a chance to do that, not yet. Maybe not ever. Would it be chaste? Slow and romantic? Or would it be impassioned and angry?

Yoongi is particularly fond of the image of taking you to the jazz cafe a little ways away from campus. Would you wear a dress, once the weather warms up a little bit? What kind of coffee would you order? Do you even like jazz? What would it feel like to feel your hand slotted against his?

He definitely wasn’t been thinking about pushing you up against the mirror in the practice room and seeing if the soundproof padding was actually properly installed. Or about that morning after classes, and those little mewling noises you made to urge him on. You were so desperate. It was cute, to say the least.

But Yoongi wasn��t trying to think about that right now. He was thinking more about your unwavering diligence. Or the merriment in your eyes despite the tired shadows that hung beneath them. Or the way you didn’t back down from the way that he was obviously flirting with him, fighting fire with fire.

How much longer can the both of you live in denial, waiting for the other to make a tentative step forward?

The more he thinks about it–about you–the less he can comfortably stay in his little bubble of denial. Denial can only get him so far. He tells himself that whatever relationship between the two of you is inevitable, and someone is going to do something eventually, and that’s why he’s not making a move just yet.

Much of your relationship (or lack thereof) has been stepwise progression, slow steps. Graduating slowly from classmate to study partners to friends and closer, still. And now Yoongi had made this great leap and it felt like the both of you were lost amid the signals and the truths neither of you knew how to broach.

And no matter how brave he is on stage, it’s nothing compared to being up close and personal with you. Cheesily enough, it’s easy enough to show a crowd what he’s been working on for months, but with you, he has to improvise.

Truth be told, Yoongi knew he was being idealistic. The space that you two existed in had become precious to him, and he didn’t want to do anything to upset the balance, until now. There’s no easy way to make this all go away. Both of you were in too deep now.

He saw the way you sighed into his touch, the way your eyes would go unfocused when he said something that was even remotely flirtatious, then then snap back to reality, as if you were reminding yourself of something. He knew you wouldn’t do anything any time soon. The past evening had shown him that.

And how was he supposed to admit his feelings for you… when he could hardly admit them to himself, in the privacy of his own room?

And now, how could Yoongi make sense of anything? Every quiet moment carried the ghost of your voice. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was the way you had squeezed your eyes shut when he brought you to rapture. Even when you’re not with him, you’re filling up his senses. His thoughts.

Am I in love with my friend? Are we friends because we’re in love? Am I feeling like this because of the way she says my name? Am I feeling like this because of the way she touches me?

So those are all the reasons. To not talk to you. To talk to you. God, how the fuck was Yoongi supposed to know?

You (5:03pm): hey, I think we should talk soon

The minutes tick by. Does the time always pass this slowly, you think to yourself. Your hand hovers over your phone keyboard.

Fuck… what have I done.

You (5:15pm): that sounds sooo scary lol no pressure okay?

You grow desperate in the wake of his silence. Have you ruined it all?

Yoongi (5:30pm) yeah

Yoongi (5:31pm): sorry I was practicing

Yoongi (5:31pm): wasn’t looking at my phone

Yoongi (5:31pm): let’s talk then

Yoongi (5:32pm): where are you?

You find yourself at his apartment once again, the closed door spelling out all the possibilities in front of you. At least give him the benefit of the doubt, something reasons inside of you, but something darker says, think of what he’s put you through.

Think of what you’ve put yourself through, you finally think. You’ve stood outside long enough. You’ve overwrought this, alone, long enough.

Each knock that you rap against the door sounds like another nail in the coffin, but you still cling onto the last dregs of hope left in you.

The door opens immediately, a rush of warm air enveloping you from outside. “Hey,” Yoongi says, shyly, almost demure in his lounge clothes and undone hair.

You want to take him apart.

“Hey,” You mirror, and try to pretend like Min Yoongi hasn’t stolen the breath out of you for what seems like the thousandth time. You hate that he has this effect on you. With nothing but a simple greeting, it seems like you’ve forgiven him for all your grief already. You try to push that feeling further down, trying to stay objective.

Yoongi leads you to his couch. “Here… sit down. It’s cold outside, I made tea,” He says, padding into the kitchen. He doesn’t say anything else, but it looks like he knows exactly what you want to talk about. There’s something in the little tick in his jaw that tells you he’s just as sure as you are, but you’re tired of guessing. Your eyes are blurring from looking in between the lines for so long.

There’s a big difference between overt facts and implied certainties. Fact: You and Yoongi are friends who study together, and now, ex-hookups. Implied: There’s something more there, something between friend and one-time hookup.

“Um, what did you want to talk about?” Yoongi says, setting down a steaming mug in front of you. You don’t reach for it.

“I–” You steel yourself for the words to tumble out of your mouth, but you lose your nerve. You had prepared a whole monologue on the walk to his apartment, but it doesn’t seem right now. You sigh, loosening the tension in your shoulders. “I wanted to talk about… about the last time I was at your apartment.” You hope it’s enough for him to get your point, and you hope that he’ll be honest and direct. He owes at least that much to you.

“What about last time? Like specifically, what about last time?” Yoongi says, not flippantly. Please, you silently plead, please… just say something good.

“Yoongi,” You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what’s to come, “What happens now? What does it mean? Please, just be honest.” When you hear your voice leave your body, you can hear how pained you sound. It wasn’t something you intended. You match his gaze and his eyes are like mirrors. “Yoongi… whatever you say, I won’t be angry. I just–I just want to know how you feel.” Your voice trembles. You hope you don’t sound as pathetic and humiliated as you feel, the scorned hookup.

Worse yet, the scorned hookup who didn’t get the hint the first time.

“No, no. You deserve the truth.” He sets his mug on the table, and you bristle at the fact that he doesn’t use a coaster. “I’ll, um, tell you my side of the story. Just to be clear I’m not like, mad at you, or anything like that. I’m also not the type to fuck and go… even though it looks like that. And I’m not like, going to ghost you or anything. Unless you want me to do that. In that case,” Yoongi runs a hand through his hair, lingering on the nape of his neck, “I’ll do that.”

“Can you do something for me, y/n? Can you just–” Yoongi holds his hands out in front of him, and he clasps his hands between yours. He always knows exactly how to comfort you, even now.

He sighs. “I wasn’t… expecting everything to happen like this. y/n, I… Just let me think about what to say for a second. But I promise, you’ll get the explanation you’re owed.” Another deep breath in. Another deep breath out.

You sit like that for what seems like a long, stretched out moment, your hands clasped in Yoongi’s, his brow furrowed.

“Why didn’t you say something yesterday?” You burst out.

Yoongi clears his throat. “Okay, look. I have… a lot of… okay, I just, I wasn’t sure how to go about this whole thing. And that morning in class, I rushed everything and after that I wasn’t sure how to approach you. Then when I saw you in the music building afterward, I just wanted to talk to you… to make sure you were okay. I saw you and I blanked. I didn’t know what to say, and I didn’t know what to do without making it weird. That’s a shitty reason, but I blanked and didn’t know what to say. I’m sorry.”

“So,” You blink, frustrated, confused, flushed hot with embarrassment and maybe a little bit of arousal, “Okay,” You say. At least you’re getting somewhere. “So… why did it happen? Why… why did we…”

Your eyes sting, and you breathe deeply, as if you might run out of words. “Was it all in my head?”

Yoongi’s clammy hands tighten around yours, as if he’s afraid you’ll leave.

“No,” Yoongi exhales, “No, it wasn’t.”

Your body is running hot and cold. It feels like something in the air has been punctured, all the tension, all the doubts, rushing away. Something new rushes in.

“I spent all this time guessing and wondering and hoping. I ran myself ragged with all my thinking. It’s not your fault, mostly, but I’m so tired. Of guessing.”

He smiles. Well, smirks, in that Yoongi fashion that makes it feel like the top of your head is spinning. “Stop thinking so much then.”

“It was–” Yoongi’s voice breaks, rips in half. “It was a mistake,” Yoongi lies. You know he’s lying. You can tell from the way his eyes are looking everywhere on your face but your eyes. You can tell from the way that he wrings his hands, like he’s reading a pre-written apology from behind the camera. “I’m so, so confused about everything. This isn’t going the way I thought it would–not that–it’s just my words aren’t coming out like I thought they would. I’m sorry. I don’t mean it like a bad thing.”

Yoongi sighs, “I thought this would be easier.” And when you look at him again, you can see the pink on his cheeks. And how dilated his pupils are, and the decreasing proximity between his lips and your lips, because again Yoongi is still death-gripping your hands in his. If you could let yourself entertain the idea, he might be pulling you closer.

“You’re going to need to be more specific,” You say. You lean away from him, hoping that the energy in the room will simmer down if you’re not centimeters away from falling into his arms. You need to hear him talk more, say everything, explain himself. You can’t leave this room without knowing more, you won’t be satisfied with anything but the truth and the full truth. You really don’t have the energy to wait more.

“Well, even before everything–” And this is where Yoongi waves his hands in the air, gesticulating wildly. He doesn’t elaborate, although you suppose “before the almost-handjob in class and the whole mouth-fucking each other on your couch” is a bit of a mouthful.

“Even before everything– I knew you liked me. Like, you can’t even be surprised that I knew. Because you were really obvious. Like so obvious. But yeah. I knew, and I thought it was cute, and it was super flattering.”

You open your mouth for a response, but you concede that he’s right. You flush ever hotter.

Yoongi’s voice drops a little lower, like he’s telling you a secret, “And it was so fun to mess with you. Like, I could make this cute fucking girl blush and giggle and squirm and it was all because of me, how can I not be flattered? How can I not want to spend more time with you, push all your buttons? I figured you’d eventually do something about it. But you never did, no matter how much I pushed it with you. I wanted you to make the first move. But we started getting closer, and I thought maybe you were never going to do anything about it. Like we agreed to be friends, but on the inside we both liked each other? I didn’t want that to happen, but I was too scared to just go and ask you out. So I was getting frustrated. So that morning, I was just messing around with you again. I wanted to annoy you during class, I wasn’t expecting anything to come out of it. But you–I guess you were frustrated too, because you called me on my bluff. And then, you know, one thing leads to another and we’re somehow at my apartment, which I barely remember how we got there in one piece before–” Yoongi stops, breathless and something tender sparkling in his eyes. His hands aren’t gripping you like you might run away, just resting on the tops of your knees. Reminding you that he’s there.

“And now, in the present, I’m just confused? Did I like you before or after we…” He trails off, bashful still, even now. “Or do I feel like this now because we were together? And does that even matter now, because I like you regardless?”

All the blood has rushed away from your chest. It feels like someone has knocked all the air from you but also as if a winch has tightened ever-so around your heart.

“Let’s take it slow, if that’s something you want. Nobody…” You grapple for something to say, after that hell of a fucking lovesick speech, “Nobody said that you needed all the answers now. Don’t rush.” You take his hands back into yours.

The weight of it all hits you slowly, in successive waves. You don’t have to filter anything out, never have to make yourself feel appropriate for him. When you practice with him, study with him, eat with him… all the quiet spaces and body-wracking laughter just feel like a perfect fit. Nothing out of place. There’s never a conversation topic or something to stray away from, other than circumventing the feelings you have for him. Even then, it’s not like Yoongi pretends like the attraction isn’t there. He doesn’t skirt around it, avoid it like taboo conversation. It really only serves to amplify your conversations, a red thread pulled taut underneath everything else.

And now, you can give into that? You can show him how you really feel, and there’s just one less thing to hide?

“You know, you’re not blameless. I was super stressed out at the time, and with the Bach Festival and midterms and everything I guess… you gave me the opportunity to lessen that a little, so. I know, I know. It’s a shitty excuse. But I wanted things with you and with the way that things converged, it seemed like–”

“Serendipity?”

“A bit like that, yes.” You tighten your hands around his, and he pulls you a little closer. You’re leaning over his lap now.

You can’t choose whether to look into his eyes or at his lips. It looks like Yoongi has the same problem. He pulls you imperceptibly closer.

“Can I kiss you? If that’s not rushing, of course.”

“Yeah. Yes, please.” You soften yourself into his lap, Yoongi pulling you closer by the shoulders, sliding down to rest on your arms. You relish in the sensation, knowing it’s something that you can enjoy with a reassured heart now.

He plants a closed kiss against your lips, and somehow that makes your heart flutter more than anything else he’s ever done before. The pads of his fingertips are soft and gentle against your arms, pulling you closer by the bicep.

“I like you… I like you a lot…” Yoongi whispers against your lips, laughing at the confession. So sweet, so soft.

“I like you too…” You whisper, kissing back. Slow, chaste, if a bit restrained. The realization hits you again, slowly, like an ocean wave washing over wet sand.

Yoongi likes you back. Yoongi wants you back. You laugh at how absurd it sounds, even in your own head, nipping at his lip. “Say it again, Yoongi.”

“I like you…” Yoongi sounds coy.

You smile against him, “Say it again,” You gasp, pushing him back on the couch, gentle but firm, “I like you too, in case you didn’t know.” You can’t help but laugh. Not at the absurdity at the situation, but just out of happy shock.

“y/n, I like you…” Yoongi chuckles, deep in his chest, looking up at you. His hair falls out of his eyes.

“Do you know how happy it makes me, to hear you say that?”

You’re honestly surprised that you don’t have whiplash. Whiplash from the weeks of tension and denial, feeling like you would never get this relief, but now you have a whole new set of problems. Dating Min Yoongi.

This whole “taking it slow” thing is fucking bullshit. The past couple weeks have been one long sustained effort, some kind of marathon in testing the waters, drawing back and then pushing forward.

Maybe you spoke too soon. You have to admit that the slow build, chaste romantic courtship is nice .

The study dates are more than nice. The coffee shop dates feel almost luxurious, expensive in time in the same way that the actual coffee is cheap.

Actually, all of this is a lot nicer than having to guess his every intention, the message between the lines. But you already know what it’s like to have Min Yoongi.

In fact, things have been largely the same for the past couple weeks, except now you can feel the weight of his flirtatious jokes. You can now confidently say that Yoongi says what he means. The more time you spend with Yoongi, the more liberated you feel in letting yourself delight in the feeling of being allowed to show your feelings for him, and having them be duly reciprocated.

After the confessional evening the both of you had, Yoongi had agreed to take it slow. In your lovesick state, you probably would have said yes to anything that Min Yoongi put on the table. Which is probably why you agreed to the whole courtship thing.

“y/n… think about it like this! If we take our time then when the time finally comes… to… uh, you know, then it’ll be so much more gratifying. And I want to be with you more, like this,” Yoongi says, as you lean against his chest, feeling it rise and fall with his words.

“Delayed gratification, have you ever heard of that?” Yoongi had said, smiling wider than you’d ever seen.

“Although from my experience with you, I think you like instant gratification more,” He said, a touch darker. Your memory blurs now, because that was about the time he started tickling you relentlessly. And then kissing you relentlessly.

And at the time, you had agreed. The delayed gratification would make everything better, make the world a little more rose-colored than before.

You don’t want to push his boundaries, he doesn’t want to push yours, but now it’s begun nearly feels both of you are so afraid of each other that you haven’t touched each other in what seems like fucking forever–and it’s reached a boiling point, from what you can gather this evening.

The newfound tension between the two of you is new, maybe a day or two at most, but annoying nonetheless.

“Y/n, how many times have I told you? Stop rushing. Do you need me to count your part out? One, two, three, four.” He punctuates every count with a clap in your face, and a sneer to boot.

Yoongi has been especially volatile this evening. His normal jokes and jabs at you fall just short of endearing. Your initial approach at remedying the situation by focusing on the music at hand has only seemed to make things worse, and you’ve given in to your slowly-growing temper.

“I am fucking counting, and I’m not the one playing fucking half notes, okay? How about you just focus on making the harmony, I don’t know, harmonious ?” You lower your violin, face screwing up in anger, only you don’t know how much of it is joking anymore.

You don’t know how much longer you can take this kind of tension in the air. It feels angry and red and biting, but you can’t help it. The stale air-conditioned air in the practice room only seems to make your face warmer and warmer as time passes.

All this tension, and no release. That’s what music is all about. The build-up of musical intensity, the expectation and anticipation for resolution. It’s like you’ve been stuck on the same chord of a cadence, waiting for a release that feels like it isn’t coming anytime soon.

You take a deep breath, the frustration tightening in your chest. “From measure eighty-four, and take the fucking repeat this time. Let’s just move onto the next section after this, we’ll just come back to it later.”

You fight the urge to huff and sigh, knowing it would only earn you a comment from Yoongi about being, as he had put it, ‘wound up.’ Yeah, no shit, you’re wound up. Wound up is putting it lightly. Just last week Yoongi had made a mess of you at his apartment, teasing you apart and then stopping just short of an orgasm. And he said the same thing last week too: delayed gratification.

You try again, cueing him in with a sharp breath and the uptake of your bow.

And again, and again, and again.

“This isn’t working.” You set your violin on the soft lining of your case and rub your temples, resting your upper body on the body of the piano. You swipe the back of your hand across your face, breathing in the clean smell of the hand soap from Yoongi’s apartment bathroom, from when you were there a couple hours ago. Warm. Brown sugar. It feels like his embrace–if only you’d ever feel it again.

God, why did you let him push all your buttons? All evening–ever since the two of you left his apartment to come to the practice rooms–he’s been acting like this. You know it has something to do with you, another game. But you don’t have the energy to divine his ulterior motive, whatever it is. You shut your eyes to provide some reprieve from the strain of staring at the same phrase that you have been stuck on for what has felt like an eternity.

“Yeah, this isn’t fucking working,” He says. It reminds you of the way he talked to you when you found him practicing in the early morning that one Tuesday. You only open your eyes when you hear him get up from his bench.

Min Yoongi is standing too close to you. His eyes are on your lips and not your eyes. Even in the dim light of the practice room, you can see how dilated his pupils are.

You meet his eyes. “You’re ridiculous,” he says, more breathless than he’d like to admit, “You’re provoking me. Why?”

“Who said I was trying to do that? I think you,” You point a finger at his chest, looking into his eyes, “Are provoking me.” You try to sound as petulant as possible, and it works.

Yoongi’s lips meet yours before you can even take your hands off of him.

In the best sense of the word, you are cornered. Backed up against the piano, enclosed by his arms. He slips his hands up underneath the cotton of your sweatshirt, pulling you flush against him. His cool fingertips grazing the small of your back have you gasping against his soft lips.

“Tell me, why are you provoking me?”

“I, well-” You don’t continue with an excuse, because you’re finally getting what you want. What you both want.

He presses on. “Gonna answer my question, or are you just gonna keep being a little brat?” He wedges his thigh between your legs, closer to where you need him most. You stifle a moan, it’s too soon to be making those kinds of sounds, but you grind down on him anyway. “What?” He laughs, the sound sitting deep in his chest. “Aren’t you going to say something?”

You try to focus on the possessiveness in the way that he holds you by the waist, so you’re not thinking about how weak your knees are.

He sighs, as if in disappointment. Only you’re not sure who it’s directed towards.

“If I touch you right now, will you be wet?” He laughs. “I don’t even have to guess.” The ghost of his breath fans against your upper lip. “Is this what you want? Do you, do you, want to keep going?” Yoongi stops his ministrations. When you meet his eyes, both of you breathless, you can see the inquiring concern in his eyes again.

“Yes, yes, don’t stop,” you say, trying, and failing, not to sound frantic, “Only if you’ll see it through to the end this time,” You bite.

He laughs, devoid of mirth. “You say that like it’s not hard for me, either.” His hands trail down your torso to rest at the waist of your jeans. You don’t want to pseudo-argue with him anymore, so you just whine a little from the back of your throat, hoping he’ll get the point.

You don’t want him to think that this isn’t what you want, because truth be told, it is exactly what you want. Your hands come to meet his when you reach to undo the button.

“You know exactly what to do.” He laughs, lighter this time. He’s laughing like he’s not mad at you. He helps undo your jeans, pushing them and your panties just past your thighs. You gasp when he starts rubbing gentle circles on your clit. His fingers slip against your wet, slippery pussy.

Yoongi is everywhere. He’s crowding your space against the wall, hand down your pants, the other holding your neck in place. It’s getting overwhelming with his beautiful hand rubbing little circles on your clit. So simple, and yet it feels like you’re breaking apart underneath him. It’s getting harder and harder to bite back the moans, stay in control.

“You know, these rooms are soundproof. Let me hear you,” He murmurs, pulling you closer. “Stop hiding from me.”

Yoongi shifts his attention from your wet cunt to the collar of your shirt. “What’s this? Getting busy without me?” Yoongi brushes his free hand over the circular dark mark coloring the crook of your jaw. You’re starting to get impatient with all this teasing, how much more can you take?

“Haven’t you ever heard of a violin hickey?” You spit, grinding down on his hand, but it’s not enough. God, it really has been too long since he last touched you. He never stops the gentle advance he makes on your clit, never faster, never slower. Just barely enough. “We were just practicing, it gets darker when I play.” You try to explain yourself, as if that might make him show mercy later on.

“You’re not in any position to talk back right now, don’t forget that.” He leaves open-mouthed kisses down your neck, sucking gently. “I’ll just help you add to your little collection.” Your eyes roll back, unable to help yourself. It’s been so long since anyone has touched you. It’s been so long since anyone has held you so closely.

Your desperation is beginning to show. With every movement of his hands, Yoongi starts to lessen his touch, your hips dogging his hand. You come to the realization that you’re not above begging to get what you want. He doesn’t even have to ask.

He continues his gentle assault on your clit. “Do you know what these mirrors are for? They’re for checking your posture as you practice, but I guess this is just a different kind of practice.” He turns you around, your hips digging into the wood panelling of the piano. You’re confronted by your own fucked-out reflection, flushed and panting. You’re still mostly clothed, and yet you look debaucherous, like some ancient painting of a study into the nuances of female pleasure. “Look at you. All messy. And for what? I’ve barely touched you.”

The frustration is too much, reaching a boiling point. “Please, I swear to God.” You bury your hands in your head, wiping away frustrated tears. Your legs are trembling now, now that Yoongi is only using one of his arms to brace you against him.

“Please, what?” He digs his nails into the soft skin of your hip, and you can’t help but like it. He lowers his head so it’s level with your ear, sultry, low. “Use your words.”

“Can’t you just, just-” Again, you buck your hips against his hand, as if that might make him get the point, only for him to nip at your inner thigh with his hand.

“Don’t rush me, babe.” Babe. Min Yoongi is calling you babe. Is the universe playing some trick on you?

He takes advantage of your position and leverages his knee on the inside of yours, spreading your legs further. “That’s it, just take it. Take it.” Finally, he takes pity on you and slips a finger inside. He earns an answering gasp. You can tell he means business, because he doesn’t take it slow, he doesn’t let you adjust, going directly at that spot inside of you that makes you keen for him.

You struggle to stay upright, eyes rolling back. Your fingers scrabble along the dark wood of the piano, struggling to find purchase.

“Fuck, Yoongi…”

“So needy, look at you, so fucking needy...” He drives his point home further by adding a second finger.

“I’m sooooo sorry… how can I ever make it up to you…?” Even despite the mind-bending pleasure and the prospect of Min Yoongi blowing your back out this evening, you roll your eyes.

“What if someone hears?” Your point is lost when Yoongi changes the angle of his hand, and you break off into a ragged whimper. It’s loud enough to make you embarrassed to have made that sound in the presence of another person.

“Oh, so you care about that now?” “What about that one time in class,” Yoongi all but pants in your ear, digging his nails into your thigh, “That you were being a desperate little cocktease?”

You don’t answer, shame stoking the embers in your belly, driving lower and lower. You hate, and love, that he can make you feel like this with only some stern wording and a firm hand. Because it feels that good. Because you like him that much.

“What then, hmm?” Yoongi doesn’t wait for a response however, before he’s yanking your jeans and panties further down your thighs. “Do me a favor. Touch yourself for me. Show me.”

“Why?”

“Wanna see you all messy for me,” Yoongi says, voice silky soft, liquid sex. He guides your hand down to your pussy, and god, you realize just how embarrassingly wet you are for such little foreplay. “Please?” He presses his chest flush to your back, leaning his forehead into the crook of your neck.

You oblige him. You’re wet to the point where it’s difficult to find purchase against your clit. “Okay… but you have to forgive me.”

“Forgive you for what?”

“For being needy…” You say, sweetly.

“Sure. I’ll forgive anything you do if you do this every time.” He says it like it’s a matter of fact.

You giggle, like a lovesick idiot. At the very least, you’re glad that Yoongi can make you laugh even when you’re half-play-fighting, half-on-the-verge-of-having-sex-in-your-favorite-practice room.

The vibrations of your laughter traveling through your body have you moving in new, novel ways against your own hand, and you break off into a moan.

“You’re so beautiful,” Yoongi murmurs, voice barely above a scratchy whisper. He sounds genuine, and the tenderness of the moment isn’t lost to you, even despite your pleasure. At least now that you’re touching yourself, you don’t have to suffer the patient wrath of Yoongi and can touch yourself the way that you see fit.

You feel his free hand nudge against the back of your thigh and when you look, he’s dragging the heel of his hand across his pants.

Fuck. Fuck, you are so wrecked for Min Yoongi.

“No, you too,” you say, “Show me too.”

Yoongi moves away from you, pushing his waistband past his hips. He’s gripping his cock in one hand. He’s reaching for your waist again, his hand traveling up to grasp your throat. He jerks your head back. “Look, look at yourself.”

The combined sensation of his hand on your neck and own hand on your pussy is too much. Your eyes water. “Yoongi,” You gasp, “I’m going to come.”

“No, not yet. Not yet.” He wrenches your hand away, and the sudden lack of touch is almost cruel.

You buck against him, his back to you. “Please, please let me come, I can’t–you can’t do this again, fuck,” Your desperation comes out in whines, all shame lost.

“Be patient, come here.” He turns you around again, your back against the wood of the piano. And you’re looking into his eyes, dark and filled with something like lust. Min Yoongi wants you. You reach up to brush his hair out of his eyes.

Yoongi’s on your clit again, drawing light circles, testing the wetness before slipping a finger inside again. “I wanna hear you,” He says, adding another finger, more tenacity behind his strokes. He rocks his thumb against your clit. “I wasn’t asking.”

Up until now you’ve been biting your lip, muffling your cries as best as you can. You look up at him again, drawing up your courage. You feel exposed–how can you not, half-naked in the practice room, when you’re not completely confident that the soundproof padding on the walls can contain the sounds of your rapture.

“You-you fuck me so good Yoongi–” And you keen, just because he asked you to.

He stops in his fucking tracks. Again.

“Well. You fuck me so well. You can’t describe a verb with an adjective. God, I really shouldn’t let you come…”

“Oh my God, are you really going to do this right now.” You bear down on his hand with your hips again, seeking more friction. “Please… please, I can’t wait anymore.” You can hardly finish your sentence, as Yoongi fucks into you with a particularly hard thrust. You’re finding it difficult to keep your eyes open, instead opting to rest your head on his shoulder.

God, he smells so good. Like fresh laundry and the melting snow outside, warm and human and reassuring.

You can feel his smile ghosting over your neck as he leans down to suck another mark into your collarbone. “Yes, yes, I am.”

“I’m–I’m getting close again,” You say, fisting your hands in his shirt, “Just, ah–” It takes you by surprise, crashing over you. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to stay upright, pulling Yoongi against you. You can feel his satisfied smile, as he pants against the curve of your neck, hot and heady and everything you need.

“Good?” He asks, after your breathing has calmed, even though you know that he knows that he’s done more than a good job.

“Okay, okay, enough bragging,” You half-laugh, half-scoff, pulling your pants up past your hips again.

“I wasn’t bragging,” He whines. It’s endearing, and you pepper his face with kisses before you get to business again.

You sink to your knees before him, and his expression immediately softens. You try to bridge the gap between the two of you, placing the palm of your hand on his thigh. Asking for permission.

“Are you sure?” He says, but the expression in his eyes saying something to the effect of “I really hope you’re sure.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” You say, smiling as you tease the head of his cock with your parted lips. You replace his hand with yours. It’s barely any contact, really, but Yoongi closes his eyes in pleasure nonetheless, head tilted back. Normally, in any other situation like this, you’d be at least a little bit nervous. Or shy, hoping that Yoongi keeps his eyes closed so he’s not looking at you. But the absolute deprivation you’ve felt for the past couple weeks is enough for you to not care.

You sink lower, in the wake of remembering how pent up and frustrated you’ve felt for the past couple weeks. You even, at least try to, bat your eyelashes at him. But like you guessed (or had hoped), his eyes are squeezed shut. You try not to delight in the sudden change of power too much, but it’s impossible not to.

He tightens his grip on the back of your neck, groaning. “You’re so good to me.” You take him further in your mouth, eager to please. Eager to hear him make more of those sounds. Eager to take this further.

You try your best to make it slick, flattening your tongue against him. You’re a little out of practice, after months of being alone, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to notice. And if he does, he’s still enjoying himself. Thoroughly.

“Fuck, fuck,” He gasps, in hushed whispers.

“What a mouth on you…” Yoongi moves stray hairs out of your face, surprisingly tender given the lewdness of the situation. The sounds of your mouth fill the practice room, although hopefully not loud enough to expose your vulnerable position. You truly hope that the soundproof padding lining the walls works as advertised.

“Ah–ah wait, I’m getting close, wait–ah, y/n, fuck,” He rasps. You don’t let up quite yet, letting him sit in that in-between space between ‘on the edge’ and ‘letting go’. His free hand makes a weak fist against his leg.

Someone knocks on the door. Your first thought is that it may be security wrapping up rounds for the night.

Your eyes widen in shock as you stand upright and zip up your jeans. The surge from adrenaline at the prospect of getting caught in the act makes your head pulse and spin. Your heart seems to have fallen from the left side of your chest all the way into the pit of your stomach.

It’s hard to remember how aroused you were, not thirty seconds ago.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” For someone who was quite literally about to be balls-deep inside you, Yoongi tucks his dick back inside his pants with a surprising amount of tact and speed.

Yoongi is fixing his hair in the practice mirror as you cross the room at the piano bench, pulling out your phone to make it look like the two of you were just dawdling or taking a practice break.

Maybe twenty seconds have elapsed since the first knock at the door, which you reason might be a reasonable time for someone to stop practicing, and walk to the door to answer it. You hope it might seem reasonable.

You can feel the pulse in your neck moving as Yoongi opens the door. You train your eyes on your phone screen, as if that might make you more nonchalant.

“Hey, Yoongi-hyung.” The voice at the door is youthful, and energetic. You can even hear the smile in his voice. “I didn’t know you were here this late. I was looking for you!” You finally muster up the courage to stop staring at your phone, your eyes venturing to the other side of the room.

It’s… Jungkook?

Jungkook, as in, the only bassoonist in the department, Jungkook?

Jungkook must have had the same idea as you, because he looks over at you at the same time you do.

His smile falters, albeit briefly. Whatever replaces it is something akin to a smirk. A knowing smirk. An accusatory smirk. A proud smirk.

“Hyung, who’s that?”

#armywriterssupport #btsgoldnet #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #bts smut #yoongi fanfic #yoongi scenarios #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #min yoongi x reader #bts x reader

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brockadoodles · 4 years

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surprises - n. mackinnon

AN: I completely forgot about this fic until @sportmodepetey asked me about writing for Nate and I remembered that I had!! So here is this, I promise it’s all fluff and softness and not my usual angst. I’m gonna tag @hockeyboysiguess too because she might yell at me for waking her up again with another fic. Also I think I promised an anon I would repost this forever ago and then I forgot sooo.. If you come back anon, here ya go!

Word Count: 5148

Warnings: Babies!!!

Your hands shook as you delicately picked up the test in your hands. Holding one end between your fingers, you glanced at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. Your eyes looked heavy, filled with worry and your hair was disheveled from how anxiously you had been running your hands through it the last three minutes.

If you had to guess, you would assume that most people your age would be scared of a positive pregnancy test, but you were feeling the opposite. Your heart was racing and you had an uneasy feeling in your stomach, trying to work up the courage to see the result.

Lately, Nathan would look at the results for you. He said it was his way of protecting you from the feeling of disappointment, a sentiment you appreciated, even if every result was still negative. They all had been negative for the last year and a half, why would the next one be any different?

No one prepared you for what it would be like to have trouble getting pregnant, it was never a thought that crossed your mind. When you and Nate got married, the idea of children wasn’t even on the radar. You were both young, he was in the prime of his career, it just didn’t make any sense to start trying at 25. Now that you both were 30, and it was becoming clear just how difficult it was, you were starting to regret not trying sooner.

It was hard not to feel like you were failing your husband, but your body just wasn’t cooperating. It wasn’t for the lack of trying, the two of you had sex all the time. You tracked your ovulation schedule, tried every superstitious trick, and yet each time that familiar wave of disappointment hit you as you’d see Nate’s face falter when looking at the pregnancy test. It was especially frustrating because doctors told you that everything was normal, and sometimes it just takes time to conceive naturally.

Nate never did anything to make you feel inadequate, he was always supportive of you. Holding you while you cried, reassuring you that you were always good enough, no matter what happened. But most importantly, he never lost faith in you, he constantly reminded you that growing a human is hard work, and maybe your body is just taking extra time to prepare. He was always so calm, genuinely believing that it would happen for the two of you when it was meant to happen. That’s why he tried as often as he could to bear the burden of looking at the test for you. If he could take away any sadness you were feeling, he would.

But today, Nate wasn’t here. The Avalanche were on a week-long road trip in New York and he wasn’t due back for a couple of more days. You bit your lip, diverting your eyes away from the mirror and back down towards the white plastic stick resting in your right hand. You didn’t tell Nate, feeling like it wasn’t worth getting his hopes up only to let him down once again.

Your own hopes were high this time, something in your body just felt different. You had symptoms that you hadn’t experienced yet the other times you thought you were pregnant. You took a deep breath and finally shifted your gaze down to the test, eyeing it carefully.

Your stomach dropped seeing the word “pregnant” in the little results window of the test. You rubbed your eyes quickly and looked again, thinking maybe you were projecting your hopes and that your eyes were deceiving you. When you saw the same result, you quickly ripped open another test and went over to the toilet.

Those second three minutes were probably the most nerve wracking of your entire life. You had never had a positive pregnancy result, and after how long you had been trying it was hard to believe that it wasn’t some sort of fluke or false positive.

When the three minutes were up, you hastily grabbed the test, wasting no time to look at the result. When you read the word pregnant again, you looked back up at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were glassy with fresh tears, but you looked happier than you had been a few minutes prior. You took a slight step back from the sink, placing the test onto the marble countertop and placed a hand gently on your lower stomach, slowly rubbing your fingers across your skin.

It took every bit of willpower that you had to not spill the secret to Nate when he came home that week, but you knew that with how long you had both been waiting, that you wanted to confirm with the doctor before giving him the news. The many months of disappointment had caused you to guard your heart, and you couldn’t fathom sharing the news with Nate only to have it ripped apart from the both of you if it ended up not being true.

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

A few nights later, you were tossing and turning, finding yourself unable to sleep. You looked over at Nate, unable to sleep. His back was facing you and his breaths were deep. His flight had gotten in late, him not getting back home until around 2:30am. When he leaned in to kiss your forehead softly before slipping into bed, you had been asleep. But when he wrapped his arm around you and rested his large hand on your stomach you woke up, suddenly worried that maybe he knew you were pregnant.

This was a ridiculous thought to have, Nate didn’t even know you had taken tests while he was gone, and he always pulled you close at night, but you couldn’t help but feel your anxiety levels rise.

“I know something’s bothering you.” You jumped at the sound of his voice, groggy and full of sleep. Before you spoke back, Nate turned himself to face you before running his hand over his face and up through his hair to wake himself up a bit. It was 5:47am but because it was still winter, the sky was pitch black outside.

“M’fine, baby, go back to sleep.” You tried to reason, reaching your hand up to rub his cheek, fingers gliding softly over the stubble that had grown in on his face. Nate relaxed into your touch and leaned down to press a slow kiss to your forehead before resting his head in the crook of your neck.

He peppered light kisses on your neck, humming out,

“Did something happen this week?”

“No.” You lied, using your hand to tilt his head back up, bringing your lips to his.

“Just missed you.” You added, deepening the kiss. It wasn’t a complete lie, you did miss him and now that he was home kissing you, you couldn’t help but press yourself closer into him, needing to feel his touch.

Soft moans filled the room as lazily dipped in and out of you. You felt your anxieties slipping away as each moment passed. What started as a means to distract Nate also became a release for you, and you fell back asleep feeling safe and content in his arms.

You woke up a few hours later to the smell of freshly brewed coffee filling the bedroom. You sat up and pulled your hair into a messy low bun before you leaned over the edge of the bed, slowly pulling yourself out of the covers and getting up. You stood up and pulled Nate’s shirt down over your body from where it had risen up earlier that morning. You subconsciously ran a hand over your abdomen, smiling to yourself before heading out the bedroom door and into the kitchen where Nate was sitting at the island, coffee cup in hand.

“Morning.” You said, coming up behind him and pressing a kiss to the back of his shoulder. You leaned around him to grab an apple from the fruit basket and took a bite into it. Nate turned his body slightly toward you, pulling you slightly so that you were facing him, standing between his legs.

“How was the trip?” You asked, smiling softly at him. His fingers pressed into your sides, pulling up the shirt that was draped over your body as he rubbed small, comforting circles into your hips.

“You watched all of the games.” He smirked up at you before pressing his lips to yours in a kiss.

“Mhm, yeah but I still like to know how your trip was.” You hummed out in between soft kisses. Nate tried to pull you closer and deepen the kiss but you felt your stomach lurch. The taste of coffee on his lips made you feel nauseous all of a sudden. You felt bile rising in your throat, threatening to come out and ruin the tender moment between you and your husband.

You pulled away quickly and Nate furrowed his brow at your sudden need to separate yourself from his touch.

“You alright?” He spoke.

“I, uh, I think my period just came.” You stumbled out, averting your eyes from his as you ran into your shared bathroom. You quickly turned on the shower to drown out the sounds of emptying your stomach. Once you felt a bit better, you stood up, flushing the toilet and washing your hands. You brushed your teeth and made a mental note to make a doctor’s appointment for as quickly as possible to 100% confirm your pregnancy. You still felt a bit nauseous, but a part of you was relieved to be feeling sick, as it was another sign that the home tests had been right. You didn’t want to keep the news from Nate for too long, just long enough to plan a special way to let him know he was going to be a dad.

-----------

You sat in the driver’s seat of your car, holding the small ultrasound photo in your hands. The doctor had confirmed what you felt to be true, you were 13 weeks pregnant. Your doctor gave you a list of prenatal vitamins to pick up on your way home. The Avalanche had a big home game that night and you were eager to be there, not only to cheer on Nate but because you knew just how you wanted to tell him.

You stood next to Aleks, glancing down at her and Nikita’s daughter Sophie. She was wearing a small Avalanche jersey, Zadorav printed in white on the back. Your heart swelled at the sight, knowing that someday soon, your own child will be wearing their own little MacKinnon jersey.

“Do you think you can get Z to help me with something? He has to keep it a secret though.” You asked Aleks, taking a sip out of your water bottle. She eyed you suspiciously, looking from you to your drink. You felt nervous under her stare, knowing that she was technically going to be the first person you told the good news to.

“You’re pregnant.” She smirked, saying it bluntly. You choked a bit on your water before looking up at her in surprise. You quickly looked down to your stomach, which was covered with a loose fitting top. Your “wag” jacket that matched the other girls around you came out to cover the sides of your hips. There was no way she could have known based on your appearance, you weren’t far enough along for there to be signs.

“You’re drinking water, you never drink that here.” She smiled. You bit your lip, cursing yourself for having a strict pregame ritual of drinking a beer during warmups. You nodded at her, not wanting to say it outloud as Nate came skating up to where the two of you were standing. Your eyes focused on your husband, who was now balancing a puck on the end of his stick. He tossed it over the glass to you, winking at you as you caught it, a tradition he started after the first game he invited you back when you had just started dating.

You looked around, spotting a young boy who looked to be around 7 or 8, dressed head to toe in Avs gear standing just a few seats over from you. You leaned over and tapped his shoulder, smiling at him and offering the puck. Nate’s tradition was to give you a puck and yours was to pay it forward and give it to a fan in the crowd. More often than not you chose to give it to a kid, knowing just how much it probably meant to them to receive something from a player that they looked up to.

The little boy eagerly nodded at you and took the puck from your hands before turning toward who you assumed to be his dad.

“Wow, what do you say to the nice woman, bud?” The man said, smiling at you in thanks.

“Thank you!” the boy exclaimed, wrapping his small arms around your leg in a quick hug before looking up at you.

“You’re welcome.” You smiled, looking toward his father to get permission to hug the child back. He nodded at you, and you wrapped your arms quickly around the young boy. Nate watched the exchange from the blue line, passing a puck back and forth with Gabe. He couldn’t help but sigh in sadness. He wanted a baby so badly, and while he understood that it would happen when it was meant to, he always felt a touch of worry when he thought too hard about the what ifs. The moment passed as quickly as it came and he focussed his thoughts solely on the game ahead of him.

“So what do you need Z to do?” Your attention turned back to Aleks.

“Well I haven’t told Nate yet, I was hoping Z and the boys could help me.” You said, leaning in a bit closer to her so that the people around you couldn’t hear you. The last thing you needed was for the news to end up all over Twitter. Granted, Nate didn’t use Twitter but still.

Just as you mentioned him, Nikita came skating up to where the three of you were standing. He tapped the glass quickly in front of his daughter, before waving quickly at all of you and skating away. If there was anyone that would help, it would be him. He was so in love with his children, but also wild enough to want to participate in what you had planned.

A few days later you found yourself on a group FaceTime call with some of Nate’s teammates, laughing as they loudly spoke over each other about the plan you had come up with. You knew that you had to incorporate his teammates and hockey into the reveal, being as his team was one of the most important aspects of his life. You knew that he couldn’t wait to someday share that with his kids, bringing them to games and teaching them how to skate.

After JT and Tyson argued over whether Nate was going to cry or not, Gabe cut them off and grabbed your attention.

“Do you know what you’re having yet?” You looked at Gabe curiously, almost instantly thinking of a new task that the boys could all help you with.

“Actually I want you guys to tell us.” You spoke into the screen. This grabbed everyone’s attention.

“What can we do?” Tyson beamed at you.

“Well I have this envelope the doctor gave me, I was going to just open it with Nate but maybe you guys could come up with something to share the news with us.”

“Like a party?” Nikita jumped in. You would have felt nervous about it, but Z had done this before and you knew he wouldn’t do anything too crazy.

“Yes, you can throw a party if you want.” You smiled back at him.

--------

Nate turned his car on, blasting the heat. It was early, he was tired, and the last thing he wanted to be doing was heading to the rink for an obscenely early morning skate. Gabe had mentioned that everyone needed to be at the rink by 7 that morning, some sort of last minute meeting before practice. He was annoyed but he knew better than to question his captain. He reached down to shift the car into gear when he noticed a note taped to the gear shift. He recognized your handwriting immediately, smiling to himself as he picked the small piece of paper up.

Good morning my love, Snow is still falling, but warm things are coming. If you’re wondering what the next note consists of, When you get to the rink, check your right glove.

Nate reread the note a few times, unsure of what it meant. He quickly set it onto the passenger seat, reminding himself to look inside his gloves when he got to the arena like it said.

When Nate pulled into the parking garage he immediately felt confused. So far, his car was the only one he could see. He glanced at the clock on his phone before double checking that Gabe’s message actually said 7am. It was 6:45am and no one else was there. He was normally a bit early, but never the first one to practice. He shook his head, getting out of the car and grabbing the remainder of his gear from the trunk. Maybe everyone was as tired as he was and just was running a bit behind, he thought as he walked into the practice facility.

Nate took his time changing and putting on his padding, figuring that there was no reason to rush if he was the only one there so far. The note from the car completely slipped his mind. It wasn’t until he grabbed his gloves that he remembered to check inside for something. He felt around the inside of the glove before pulling out another small piece of paper with your handwriting on it.

Congrats, you found clue number two. Although it’s probably not clear what you have to do. You’re probably wondering why everyone is late, Forget about them and head to the place where we sat on our first date.

Nate read the note once more before setting it in his stall and heading out toward the rink. He smiled at the memory of your first date. By all standards, it should have been a disaster. Looking back he isn’t quite sure how he managed to get a second date out of it. He had planned brunch for the two of you, wanting to take you to a little whole in the wall cafe in downtown Denver. Instead, the coaches decided that after their last three losses, they needed an extra conditioning practice. Rather than cancel on you, he asked if you wanted to come watch practice and have lunch afterwards. Much to his surprise you said yes.

He had a terrible practice that day, and he thought for sure that his negative attitude toward his teammates would prevent you from ever wanting to see him again. Instead, after practice, the two of you sat in the stands for two hours just talking about anything and everything while some junior hockey team practiced in the background. You didn’t even express annoyance when some of the players came up to him to say hello after their practice, instead you smiled and listened as he interacted with the younger players.

He left the locker room and headed over to the bench where the two of you sat all of those years ago, he knew exactly where it was that you were sitting. Remembering the dark green sweater you had worn that day, and the scarf you had around your neck to keep warm while he practiced.

When he walked up toward the bench he saw another small note taped to it. He picked it up and opened it.

Welcome to clue number three, This one marks you being halfway done, but I’m just starting the fun. If you search through the practice pucks, you just might find the next one.

Nate was beginning to wonder what this whole scavenger hunt was leading to. You were not the type of person to be able to keep secrets when it came to surprises. If anyone was going to spill about a surprise, it would be you. You always said that you just got too excited to share whatever it was with whoever the person was that you couldn’t be trusted to keep any exciting secrets. He was curious as to how you managed to pull off some sort of prize for him.

Nate set his sticks and gloves down on the players bench and walked into the equipment area to grab the bag of practice pucks. He dumped the bag out and the pucks started sliding haphazardly across the ice. He knew it would be faster than trying to dig through the bag.

His eyes scanned the pucks, looking for a few moments before spotting one with paper sticking out underneath it. He stepped out onto the ice and skated over to where the puck was. He leaned down to pick it up, carefully taking the note off of the puck before skating back over to the boards to lean against them while reading the new clue.

Sorry you had to make that mess, but I promise it’ll be for the best. Don't forget to put the pucks away and then head back to where you always begin game day.

Nate slowly gathered his mess on the ice, stacking the pucks up then sliding them into the bags, before stepping off the ice and heading back toward the dressing room.

When Nate got back to his stall he was confused to see a small gift bag sitting on top of the bench. He looked quickly around the locker room to see if any of the other guys had shown up. It was definitely past time that Gabe said everyone had to be here, yet even Gabe himself hadn’t yet arrived for practice. He picked up the small grey bag and sat down on the bench.

He slowly pulled out the white and gold tissue paper that was stuffed in the top of the bag, setting it down next to him. He reached his hand down into the bag, instantly feeling something extremely soft on his fingers. He lifted the item out and furrowed his brows in confusion at it. He was holding a small stuffed animal version of Bernie, the Avalanche team mascot. He figured maybe the bag was meant for another teammate who had kids.

As Nate was putting the mini Bernie back in the bag, he noticed the back of Bernie’s jersey was different. Instead of “Bernie” printed in white, it said “MacKinnon” and just underneath the name was 29. He knew there must be another clue somewhere and he began to look around his stall for any piece of paper that might have come from you.

He spotted something next to his name plaque, and sure enough it was another folded up note from you.

Now that you’ve revealed all I had to hide, pack up your gear and head where you park your ride.

Nate shook his head, but obliged by what the note said, packing his gear back up quickly so that he could head back to what he hoped was the reveal of whatever grand scheme you were planning.

About 20 minutes later, he walked out to the parking garage and saw you leaning up against his car. You beamed up at him, pulling yourself away from the car and walking toward him.

There were butterflies in your stomach, not only were you about to share with your husband the news, you also were able to share that you knew the sex of the baby.

“Not that I didn’t love this little adventure, but what’s going on?”

“Well, Nate, I think you have to read your last clue.” You smiled, reaching into your back pocket and handing him the envelope. This was it, you thought. Nate was going to know in a matter of seconds, and you could barely contain the smile on your face.

Nate set his equipment bag down next to the car and then gently took the envelope out of your hand. You watched in suspense as he carefully opened it, pulling out the note and sonogram inside.

“Read it outloud.” You encouraged, giving him another wide smile.

“Congratulations the riddles are coming to an end, just know that you’ll have a lot of messages to send. Enjoy the next few months of us on standby, because baby MacKinnon will be making their debut this July.” Nate’s voice cracked at the end of the clue, he slid the small paper over and looked at the ultrasound now in his hand. His eyes welled up with tears and he quickly looked back up at you.

“You’re pregnant?” He spoke quietly, unsure of if this was all real or some horrible joke you were in on with the team. He didn’t think you would mess around with something this serious, but he also couldn’t believe what he was looking at.

Your eyes were also glossing over with tears, feeling an unprecedented amount of joy. You nodded quickly at your husband, taking another step towards him.

“You’re really pregnant?” He asked again, this time with more conviction.

“Yes, Nate. We’re having a baby.” You cried happily, wiping a couple of tears that had begun to cascade down your own cheeks. Nate wasted no time grabbing you and pulling you into a hug.

“I can’t believe this, we’re really having a baby?” He asked one more time, pulling the two of you apart just enough to press one hand flush against your stomach. You nodded in response and leaned up to kiss him.

“Wait there’s another surprise.” You smiled, pecking him on the lips one more time before gesturing to his car.

“I’m not sure anything can top this one.” He replied, quickly looking around for your car before adding,

“Wait how did you get here?”

“Aleks dropped me off, I wanted to be able to drive home with you.” You answered nonchalantly, making a move to open up the passenger side of the car.

The ride home was quiet, Nate drove carefully, with one hand rubbing softly against your thigh. You watched the snow covered buildings pass by you as he continued down the route back to your home.

You were nervous as he pulled onto the street that you lived on, immediately recognizing some of the cars parked sporadically near the house. Nate looked around as he slowly pulled into the driveway.

“Why does it look like the team decided to have practice at the house?” He smirked at you, knowing there obviously was something going on.

“I don’t know, let’s go find out.” You teased, knowing fully why they were all there. You didn’t know what their plan was, but you did hand over your keys that morning to Aleks after she dropped you off, heading back to help the boys with the surprise.

When you walked into your house, you couldn’t believe all of the work the team had managed to pull off in the short amount of time that you’d been gone. There were pastel streamers and balloons draped carefully around the living and dining room. The dining table had an arrangement of fruits and breakfast type pastries for everyone. And out back you could see a set up of a goal covered in white balloons. You jokingly wondered which one of them logged onto Pinterest to get all of these ideas.

Nate looked around in awe. He felt like he was in a dream, one that he was desperate to not wake up from. The two of you had been trying for so long that he hadn’t really allowed himself to think of what it would feel like to have it happen. Having his team there to take part in the celebrations was an added bonus.

“Nate dogg, come outside you need to shoot some pucks.” Gabe slapped a hand on your husband’s back, nodding toward the net that was set up out back.

“Wait, do you know what we’re having?” He quickly turned to you, setting his cup of coffee down on the table near where you were standing. You shook your head slightly, motioning toward the rest of his teammates that were all starting to head out to the backyard.

“No, this is all them.” You smiled, grabbing his hand and leading him outside.

Nate stepped up toward the goal, grabbing his stick from EJ, who was dressed up in the most embarrassing outfit anyone could have imagined. He stood tall, wearing a bonnet over his head and what appeared to be a giant diaper costume that you’d probably find in the clearance section at a Halloween store because it was so ugly.

“Oh my god, what are you wearing?” Nate shook his head at his teammate.

“I lost a bet to Graves.” He rolled his eyes, glancing over at Ryan and shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter, shoot the damn puck.” He added, pushing Nate slightly toward the goal.

Nate fired back a shot, instantly breaking a couple of balloons, silver confetti flying everywhere. He realized quickly that he needed to start shooting to pop all of the balloons, shaking his head at his teammates' knock off best shooter competition idea.

When the puck went flying into the last balloon, pink and purple confetti started flying everywhere. Nate felt like he was moving in slow motion, dropping the stick and running to grab you. He could hear the cheers from everyone around him but all that mattered was you.

He picked you up, twirling you around quickly before gently setting you down. You reached your hand up to wipe the tears from under his eyes, smiling widely knowing that you were having a baby girl. You always knew Nate wanted a girl, believing he would be the best “girl dad” so you knew this moment was extra special for him.

The two of you stood close for a few moments, ignoring the commotion happening around you and savouring the moment.

“You owe me $50, I told you he would cry.” Tyson argued with JT

“I single tear doesn’t count, idiot.” JT shot back.

You laughed at the two boys, leaning your head into Nate’s chest and looking at the scene around you. It may have taken a long time to get here, but you couldn’t be more excited for the family you were creating, knowing that your baby girl was going to be loved by so many.

#bye i love that gif #nathan mackinnon #nathan mackinnon x reader #nathan mackinnon imagine #nathan mackinnon fic #avs imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic

309 notes · View notes

baepop · 4 years

Text

First Time

You and Jungkook lose your virginities to each other

Word Count: 6k

Pairing: You x Jungkook

Genre: Smut, Fluff

Warnings: Virginity Au, painfully vanilla, Jungkook exclusively calls you noona

“Scroll up already!” You softly yank on his sleeve which only makes him move his finger obnoxiously slower. A cheeky bunny tooth smile plays at his lips and you sigh dramatically. “You read sooo slow, Jungkook.”

The brunette boy rolls his eyes but nonetheless scrolls up a bit enough for you to see the next dialogue box. You had both made a fort composed of sheets and pillows in the middle of his dorm and were currently reading a webtoon off of his phone screen. You both lay horizontally while he held the screen up in front of your faces. It was the middle of the night and all the boys had gone to sleep in their respective rooms except for Jungkook, he was fighting sleep just to spend a bit more time with you. You look sideways at him while his eyes stare straight forward and smile to yourself, being content with just being by his side. You and Jungkook had clicked the second you met and became fast friends, though these days, it felt like there was something more brewing beneath the surface. You weren’t sure if you were just going crazy or what, but you’d at least wait for a surefire sign that he was interested in you before making your move.

A yawn escapes you as you rest your cheek on his shoulder. Jungkook rolls his eyes, thinking it was a fake ploy to get him to read faster, but when he feels your even breath fanning his shoulder, he realizes you’ve fallen asleep on him.

He cranes his neck to watch your sleeping face. Your mouth hung open in an “o” and your bangs were strewn wildly all over your forehead. He smiles and puts his phone away, staring straight ahead again. He was frozen in that position for quite a while, trying to decipher what the right move here would be. Should I just go back to my room and leave her here?... Should I wake her up and get her a cab home? He took another look at your sleeping face and shook his head, deciding he didn’t want to wake you. He sighed, drumming his fingers over his stomach while his arm that laid under you began losing circulation. Should I wake her up so we can go sleep on my comfy bed at least? Jungkook’s cheeks began heating up at the idea of sharing a bed with you. It definitely wasn’t the first time he’d thought about it, that was for sure. But he didn’t want to send you running but suggesting it either. There was also the matter of Yoongi sharing a room with him that might make things awkward.

Just then, Jungkook decides he can’t hold out in this position any longer and begins trying to ease his arm from under you. Slowly, slowly…c’mon. When he puts his hand on your shoulder to lift you off of him a bit, he notices your eyes crinkling and freezes in place, not wanting to disturb you. You never quite open your eyes, simply inhale deeply and shift over to your side, taking his hand with you. You wrap Jungkook around you subconsciously and return to your sublime sleep while he lays behind you in a panic. His pinned arm was now nestled under your neck, letting the blood flow again, but now his other arm was nestled in the valley of your boobs and he could no longer think straight. He stays still for a while, frozen again while he decides how to maneuver the situation. His nose is now buried in your hair which means the ghost of your coconut shampoo is haunting his nostrils enticingly. He swallows thickly, painfully aware of his proximity to your body. Fuck.

The minutes pass by as Jungkook tries to think about anything but all the things he’d like to do to you if you were his. His eyes roam upwards to the apex of the soft blankets you two hung over yourselves in an attempt to create a spooky setting for your spooky webtoon. He smiled shyly as his eyes fluttered shut, effectively allowing him to drift off to sleep.

You stir in his arms a few hours later before twilight has had its chance to reign over the sky. You hold the arm in your embrace closer to your body as you cuddle back into your friend for more warmth. You are half asleep when you feel it, the massive bump poking at your lower back. Your eyes ease open, immediately taking in the setting and realizing you and Jungkook had fallen asleep inside of your fort.

“Fuck, did I fall asleep?” You croak out, half expecting a reply.

“…Yeah.” You freeze, hearing his deepened morning voice so close to your ear. A shiver runs down your spine and suddenly you are very aware of the position you two are cuddled in. He doesn’t offer anything more, leaving you to stew in the moment. You blush, wondering if you were the one who initiated sleeping in such an intimate position. Nonetheless, Jungkook seems to not have gotten much sleep, and for that you feel a bit guilty for being careless and not going home when you started to get tired. You’d never slept over before.

Your heart rate increases a bit as your thoughts hone in on his dick brushed up against your backside. Was this the sign you needed? Or was he just hard because he was cuddling with a girl and not necessarily because he has feelings for you? You chew on your bottom lip in thought.

“N-Noona? Did you go back to sleep?” You hear Jungkook whispering in your ear and it sends another shiver rolling through your body.

“No, I’m awake.”

“Sorry if I woke you up.” Jungkook speaks so quietly and respectfully. You find it oddly cute considering the situation south of his sweatpants was anything but. You smile, deciding to tease him a little.

“You didn’t wake me up. Your boner on the other hand…” You smile in the dark, biting your lip as you feel the boy stiffen around you. Feeling his head shift down to look at where your bodies were meeting, you felt pity for him and decide to give him a break.

“Oh…Fuck, Noona, I’m so sorry,” Jungkook’s cheeks glow crimson red and he begins to get clammy, “It’s just…that—”

“It’s okay Jungkook, I like it.” You bite the inside of your cheek, and the moments in between your statement and his response feel as if an eternity stretches in between.

“O-Oh you do?...Wait what?!” Jungkook lifts himself up on his elbow to take a proper look at you, wondering if this was another one of those mean jokes you always liked to play on him.

You turn over onto your back to look at him and have to stifle a giggle as you watch him physically processing and registering your words in real time. Oh my god, I broke him.

“You heard me.” Your eyes flash at his and you make sure your gaze doesn’t falter. Finally, he reads the moment correctly and begins leaning down towards your face. He hesitates twice, second guessing himself, but you bring your hand up to his neck and gently bring him down onto you for a kiss. His lips brush up against yours, testing the waters. You part your lips and press them more firmly against his. He receives the gesture enthusiastically tilting his head to deepen the kiss. It’s slow and intimate, both of you taking your time to get used to the feeling of kissing someone who was only just a friend mere moments ago. After a couple minutes of making out, you find yourself pleasantly surprised that Jungkook is such a good kisser. You also think about how dangerous of a mixture it is to have someone with such a hard body pressed up against your own also having such soft lips that mold perfectly around yours.

He’s extremely gentle, each caress of his fingers making your heart race. He brings his hand to your face, clearing it of any hair and pausing intermittently to look at you thoughtfully before reconnecting your lips. You take those opportunities to do the same, running your fingers through his disheveled hair and brushing your nose against his. When you begin to get needy, his boner pressing on your hipbone persistently, you shift over to your side and wrap your leg around his waist. He freezes again, the front of your body pressing up against his own in a way that tempts him cruelly. When you wrap your arms around his neck, he continues to the task at hand with fervor, though you don’t miss the way his hand hesitates at your hip before decidedly taking hold of you.

You jut your tongue out and kiss his top lip with it which he readily reciprocates. The kiss becomes wetter yet still stiff, neither of you wanting to be the first to cross any lines. Your hands slowly slide down the front of his shoulders and down his pecks as the tips of his fingers dip under your shirt and drawl curved lines along your skin. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about this kind of thing happening with Jungkook sometimes, and now that it was, it was strange how normal it all felt, as if this was always meant to happen and both of you knew it.

You bit his bottom lip, earning a guttural response from the boy. His hand now gripped your hip as if he was trying to stay in control of the situation, so you decide to tease him further by letting your fingers slide down his stomach and under his shirt to feel his abs. His abdomen twitches at the gentle touch of your fingers exploring. You both smile mid kiss before his hands decide to follow suit and begin exploring on their own. He slowly slides his fingers upwars, following the gentle curve of your body to hold you at the dip of your waist, then to the small of your back before coming back to your hip. He hesitates before following his journey further. You breathe deeply as his hand travels along your thigh then stops at your knee before making its ascent again.

Your tongues become entwined in between your mouths as his hand begins gripping onto you harder, sending a thrill through your body. You idly wonder if you’re getting wet since you are most definitely turned on right now. The intense need in between your legs was like a dull sound in the far-off distance at first, but now, it demanded center stage, clouding your thoughts in a haze of promiscuous thoughts. This is all uncharted territory for you, and it scares you but excites you all at once. Amidst the chaos of your emotions, one thing was very clear: you need more from Jungkook than what he’s giving you right now. You want him to throw you down and have his way with you, but you also know you don’t have the courage to ask for such a thing. You’re already nervous enough about how it will feel to be penetrated for the first time, or to just have contact on your vagina that didn’t exclusively come from you.

Your heart begins beating faster as your fingers still under his shirt. You hope your hands don’t feel too clammy while you struggle to make up your mind about making your move. You don’t want your fear to hold you back from being with an amazing guy like Jungkook. Fuck it.

You turn your hand so that your fingers face south and begin sliding your palm down towards his bulge. Jungkook stiffens and ceases kissing you, waiting with a bated breath. Your hand trembles over the tented fabric, second guessing yourself again. You look down to see what you’re doing, and when he bucks into your hand slightly, you get the bravery you need to give it a tentative squeeze. He hisses in your ear and bucks into your hand some more. Your chest swells with pride at the knowledge of what you do to this man.

“Noona…” You look up and his expression is intense. Suddenly your mouths are on each other more fervently than before. By now your lips have become red and puffy from making out for so long, but you don’t see yourself stopping any time soon. You only want more and more from him and you’re glad he seems to feel the same way.

You wrap your arms around his neck again and crash your body into his, writhing as you kiss. His body easily molds around yours, his leg hiking up to rest under yours resting at his waist. His hand now finds purchase on your waist under your shirt which makes you break out in goosebumps. The more you push up against him, the wilder his hands become as they begin groping and squeezing wherever they roam. Emboldened by your show of need for him, he takes turns kneading your breasts above the fabric of your shirt and squeezing your ass with wanton. You whimper on the edge of his lips, your core squeezing with anticipation every time he gropes you.

“N-noona…can I see you?” You quirk your brows at his request projected in such a small voice, but when he grips the bottom of your shirt, you begin to understand. You extend your arms upwards while he slowly pulls the fabric off of you. You can’t help the blush that grows across your face as you watch him ogling at your barely covered torso.

“Your turn.” You breathe out, hoping he agrees to your request. He takes the hint and sits up to pull his shirt up and over. Muscles you never knew he had flexed as he did so, making your mouth water at the sight. You drank in his honey skin stretching over toned muscles both lean and bulky. Unlike you, however, he smiles cockily at your very apparent show of admiration. You were always bother by that smug look of his whenever he caught you doing something inappropriate, so you decided to even the score by unhooking your braw and tossing it to the side. His eyes immediately bulged, and his mouth hung open, unashamedly staring at your bare breasts. You chuckled, thinking that’s better, before pulling him onto you by the back of his neck.

You lay back down as Jungkook crawls on top of you, caging you in on all sides. You bit your lip, feeling oddly exposed yet comforted at the feeling of skin on skin, his very warm skin setting your goosebumps ablaze. It felt extremely intimate, and you wouldn’t want to experience this with anyone other than him.

Jungkook hummed, brushing his nose along the skin under your ear, “Have you always been such a seductress?”

Your voice shook, feeling hot and bothered under the influence of his immense attractiveness. “Only when I want to be.” You felt Jungkook smile widely against your skin, clearly aware of the effect he was having on you. He slid both of his hands along your arms and laced his fingers with yours, bringing them up above your head and keeping him there as he began planting slow kisses on your neck. You lick your lips, feeling entirely under his control as he does just as he pleases.

You moan quietly, still painfully aware of you both being in a semipublic setting. It seemed the sweet sounds that escaped you were still enough to rile Jungkook up, however. He began bucking his boner into your midsection each time you made a sound. His dick felt impossibly hard as it pushed up against your inner thigh. You wrapped your legs around his midsection, keeping his body on yours. Soon, his lips found yours again and he stopped humping you to focus properly, much to your disappointment. It felt as if you were both moving at the speed of molasses, even though you were already doing more than you ever have with anyone else.

When he broke away to kiss the other side of your neck, you shut your eyes to revel in the feeling, trying to keep your libido under control. However, when his tongue swiped at the crook of your neck, you couldn’t help but blurt out just how much his ministrations were affecting you.

“Fuck, Jungkook. I want you so bad, you have no idea.” You felt relieved at finally putting your thoughts out there, but once you felt Jungkook’s breathy chuckle on your collarbones, relief made way for momentary embarrassment. Still, you watched him prop himself up and lower his head to your chest.

“Say no more.” He murmured almost to himself while looking at your nipples. You propped yourself up on your elbows too and held your breath, watching him lick a stripe across the engorged buds in slow motion. A curse fell from your lips before you fell back and draped an arm over your eyes, feeling every bit of Jungkook’s mouth on your chest. Whichever breast didn’t have the attention of his tongue was getting tended to by his hand and nimble fingers. You hissed and groaned for a while, reacting to the way he swirled his tongue around, until you felt him stop completely. Suddenly, you felt his hand gently removing your arm from your face. Jungkook was staring up at you simply, “I said I wanted to see you, Noona.”

You bit your lip and nodded, waiting for him to return to your chest, but when he made sure your focus was entirely on him, he slid his hand slowly down and rested his palm in between your legs, rubbing your sex above two layers of fabric. Still, it was enough to leave you breathless. It seemed no matter how much Jungkook seemed to give you, you just always wanted more.

When you didn’t object to his attention directed at the apex of your legs, he brought his fingers up to the button of your jeans, looking up at you for consent. Your nod was all he needed before undoing your pants and sliding them off of you completely. You now laid before him in nothing but your underwear with his head dangerously close to your dripping core. Your head was swimming, yet your eyes were pointed, watching his every move, still hyperaware of his ability to hurt you if he wasn’t careful enough. As he brought his finger to your panties, he slid his index fingers up and down the middle, making the fabric dip in between your folds.

“Jungkook, wait.” The boy froze and stared up at you, hoping he didn’t do anything to offend you. You regarded him warily, knowing that the next few words leaving your mouth might end this entire experience. “I’m…a virgin.” You breathed out then held your breath, half expecting him to look disappointed.

Jungkook took a minute to stare back at you before flashing you a dazzling smile. “It’s okay Noona, so am I.”

“Wait seriously? You seem so…experienced.” Jungkook blushed, his smile becoming shy.

“Well, I’ve done some stuff before but, I’ve never gone all the way.” You nodded, understanding where he was coming from and feeling like a huge weight was lifted from you. “Don’t worry Noona, I’ll be gentle. Just let me know if I’m hurting you, okay? And whenever you want to stop, we will.” You bit your lip and nodded again, barely able to focus as he began sliding his finger along your clothed sex again. His thumb pressed against where your hole would be just under the fabric, gaging how wet you were already with how moist the fabric became. You squirmed under him, wanting to feel more. He licked his lips absentmindedly before lowering himself even further. Brushing his lips against your pubic bone, he kitten licked your pussy over the fabric, and you let out a shaky breath, trying hard to stifle the loud moan that would wakeup the entire dorm. You drew in a shaky breath, not able to fathom how this could feel so amazing already.

Jungkook licked a languid stripe up the middle before sucking the fabric into his mouth and taking some of you with him. This time, an audible moan left you, earning a scolding from the boy.

“Noona, you have to be quiet or else we’ll get caught.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” You whispered back, anxious for him to return to his ministrations.

Jungkook looked back down at your drenched underwear and bit his lip, deciding to pull the fabric aside and get a real taste. You blushed as you watched him carefully. No one had ever seen your vagina before, and you could swear you almost felt his stare to be physical.

Jungkook didn’t waste any time, spreading your legs further and lowering himself back to your pussy. He licked another stripe up the middle, but this one felt impossibly better than before. The feel of his textured tongue sliding against your slick folds was enough to make your eyes roll to the back of your head. You pressed your lips in a firm line, unwilling to have him stop because you can’t keep quiet.

Jungkook’s tongue and lips were torture and punishment incarnate. He took turns flicking at your clit and sucking on it. The feeling was strange, slight electric pulses flickering in between a general sensation of pleasure. Seeing your lack of reaction, Jungkook brought his thumb up to the edge of his lips and pulled upwards, better exposing your clit from its hood for his sinful tongue to abuse. You swallowed a gasp as your legs trembled. His lips attached themselves as he began sucking hard on the sensitive bud, threatening to drive you into madness. You kept squeezing his head with your thighs on reflex and bucking your hips wildly into his face, so he held a firm hand on the inside of your thigh to keep your legs wide open for him and pin your down to better lap at your juices. He made sure to look up at you while sucking, enjoying the view of your dewy chest caving and your abdomen twitching with all the sensations he was making you feel.

After abusing your clit for a while, he detached his lips from your pussy to bring his thumb up and begin rubbing circles into the bud. You bit your lip and tried to buck up into his hand, earning a sleepy smile from the boy. Suddenly his fingers traced down towards your dripping entrance, his index finger getting dangerously close to your opening. He looked up at you again and you shook your head in a slight panic.

“You sure Noona? It might make you feel better to get stretched out a bit first…if we decide to go all the way.” He blushed, hoping that’s where your thoughts were headed too.

“I’d rather just skip to the sex, really. Do you have a condom?” Jungkook sat up on his heels and thought for a second. Remembering about Yoongi’s contraceptives stash in his third dresser drawer, he promised you he’d come right back as he stole out of the fort with purpose. In the meantime, you busied yourself with removing your underwear and positioning the pillows so they’d be comfy for the both of you, despite being on the floor.

As soon as Jungkook re-entered, he busied himself with kicking his sweats off. Your eyes swept his muscular figure again with hungry eyes, feeling a sense of disbelief that he was going to be all yours in just a few moments.

In one swift motion, he removed his boxer briefs and tore the condom wrapper gingerly with his teeth, but you couldn’t focus on that, not when you saw how aggressively his impressive member sprang out of his underwear. You gulped absentmindedly, feeling a bit of fear at how all of that could possibly fit inside of you. Jungkook acquired the lubed latex circle from the packaging and knelt in between your legs. Rolling the condom carefully over his reddened shaft, he gazed at your body for so long that you began worrying he found something wrong with it.

Feeling a tad insecure, you looked up at his face before asking, “What? Is something wrong?”

Jungkook looked up at you with an intense expression. “You’re so beautiful.”

You felt your chest tighten and a lump form in your throat at the incredibly sincere look on his face. Your eyes watered and, unable to express your feelings at the moment, you thought a kiss might better make him understand, so you sat up and kissed him passionately. He returned the sentiment, caressing your blushing cheek before placing his hand on the small of your back and gently lowering you both back onto the floor with him towering over you.

He stopped kissing you for a moment, both of you panting. “You sure about this?”

“Yes, now please hurry before I get blue balls.”

Jungkook chuckled softly, “Girls can’t get blue balls Noona.”

“…I’m willing to bet on that.” Jungkook rolled his eyes but nonetheless positioned himself carefully at your entrance. You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist and your arms around his neck, wanting something to squeeze on to prepare yourself for the pain. Jungkook bucked into your gingerly but failed to get his head at the right spot. He stopped to readjust himself, and upon the second thrust, you flinched at the feeling of him almost entering you. You pressed your lips into a hard line and squeezed your eyes shut, involuntarily shifting back each time he would thrust forward. Jungkook climbed off of you and knelt in between your legs, wondering if he could better enter you from a different position. When he held his dick and pushed up against you, you squeezed your eyes and flinched again.

Upon reopening them, you saw Jungkook looking at you worriedly. “We can stop here if you’re not ready.”

You sighed, sitting up completely. “Maybe it’ll be easier if I get on top. You know, gravity and all.”

Jungkook smiled and nodded, all too eager to lay down and watch the girl he’s had a crush on for so long climb on top and ride him just as you had in his fantasies so many times before. You straddled Jungkook’s midsection once he was completely flat, hovering above his erection. You took hold of him and held him up against your sex. Slowly, you lowered yourself onto him, bit by bit and pressed onwards after feeling pressure at your entrance. Instead of flinching and sitting back up, you took your time and persevered, lowering yourself further until you felt him actually enter you for the first time. You winced, feeling an odd burning sensation that very much intrigued you even though it sort of felt like you were being stabbed in your vagina.

Jungkook’s hands trembled at your hips, holding you firmly but not forcing you any which way. He swallowed thickly, already feeling the vice grip of your walls around the beginning of his head. “Fuck, Noona…” he let out a shaky breath.

Watching his fucked-out expression gave you the confidence you needed to take him in a little more, and then a little more after that. You continued this way for a while, pausing to make sure it didn’t become too painful too fast. Once he was about halfway inside, you leaned in over him, putting your hands on either side of his head and going in for a kiss to help relieve your tension. Jungkook kissed you back tenderly, trying hard not to move except for his hand which found your clit and began rubbing circles into it again. You moaned into his mouth, taking note of the delicious feeling of your clit being stimulated while simultaneously feeling full. Soon, your walls began to relax, and your fluids continued to leak out of you, making it possible for you to slide him into you further. This time, you took more of him in at once, causing you both to moan mid-kiss. Luckily, the sounds were muffled, but it was clear both of you were losing yourselves in the new sensations of having intimate sex with each other.

You didn’t know you’d love hearing Jungkook’s moans and groans this much, you thought as your tongues circled around each other. His hands found your ass and began squeezing, causing your walls to squeeze around him and earning a guttural groan from the boy.

He hissed, detaching your lips to look down at where you two were connected. “You’re so wet Noona. You’re taking me so good.” You moaned at the combination of his words and his hands groping you. Your bodies grew even sweatier, though you were sure the lack of ventilation in your makeshift fort had something to do with it. At the sound of your losing yourself in the moment, he bucked up into you involuntarily which only spurred you on further. He slipped so easily along your walls that he was able to bottom out inside of you. Thankfully, it no longer hurt, but still the burning sensation remained yet was quickly making room for another, more pleasant one.

“Jungkook—” You whimpered and leaned onto him completely, burying your head in the crook of his neck. Jungkook loved the way his name fell from your lips so angelically. He was certain it was driving him mad.

Circling his arms around your waist to hold you in place, Jungkook began easing his cock in and out of you, and it took every bit of strength you had not to make a sound that was too loud. He hissed and grunted, reveling in the feeling of your walls squeezed around him. He stilled in you for a while when he feared he might cum suddenly, taking this chance to kiss you again, something he vowed he’d never ever get tired of doing.

When you grew impatient with the lack of stimulation, you sat back on his dick and held your hands out for him to take. Lacing his fingers in between yours with both hands, he gave you some much needed support as you began gingerly bouncing on his shaft, closing your eyes as you did so.

“Fuck, Jungkook…this feels so good. I can’t believe I was missing out on this the whole time.” You whispered with a fucked-out smile spread across your face.

“I feel the same way.” Jungkook’s eyebrows knit together, his expression fully focused on the view of him entering and exiting you then up at your titties bouncing every time you sat back down onto him. Suddenly the view was too much for him. It was everything he imagined this moment might be like and more. You were absolutely perfect in every way, and he wanted nothing more than to ravage you at that moment.

Suddenly he pulled on your hands, bring you forward onto him before flipping you over on your back as he climbed on top of you. You were taken aback by the swiftness, but nonetheless ready to have him take control now that you were more relaxed and ready for more. Kneeling in between your legs, Jungkook snapped his hips forward a few times, enjoying the view of him fucking you while your titties continued to bounce in plain sight.

Once he looked up and saw you watching the same, he leaned in and continued bucking into you slowly, resting his forehead on yours and panting.

You couldn’t get over how good it was starting to feel as your hips began moving on their own to match his strokes. You both cursed aloud at the feeling of fucking each other in unison as you got wetter and wetter.

His name fell from your lips repeatedly, urging the boy to pick up the pace with his hips to fuck you the way he wanted to. The sensation of getting fucked harder and faster was overwhelming as you dug your fingers into his shoulders, holding on for dear life. Jungkook’s forehead leaned on yours, his eyes focusing on your contorted facial expression as he fucked you repeatedly.

Feeling his balls begin to tighten, he slowed down then stopped completely, not wanting to cum just yet. Instead, he sat back on his heels and picked up your legs, throwing them over his shoulders respectively then leaned back in all the way, bringing your knees to your chest as he entered you from a different angle. You gasped, feeling the head of his dick hit you in a place inside of you that you didn’t even know existed. It was different from the shocks of pleasure you felt when he touched your clit. This one was rooted deeply, drawing electrifying sensations from the pit of your stomach. The more the head of his dick massaged it, the more it felt as if you had to pee. Either that or as if your vagina was about to sneeze. You wrinkled your nose at the comparison you drew, trying hard to focus on this new feeling.

“Fuck, just like that Jungkook,” You whined, feeling at his mercy and unable to help the tiny moans that escaped you, “Please don’t stop, I don’t know what you’re doing but it feels so good like this.” Jungkook grunted in response, hearing your pleas and whimpers right in his ear which only cause him to rock into you harder. You held onto Jungkook’s bulging arms, his muscles flexed taut as he focused on not cumming right away.

“Fuck, fuck fuck,” You continued cursing, feeling the sensation building. You weren’t sure what was going to happen at the fruition of its buildup, but you so badly wanted to find out. Suddenly, it felt as if a rubber band had snapped, flooding your senses and limbs with a white-hot tingly pleasure.

Your walls squeezed the head of Jungkook’s penis for dear life as you orgasmed, cause the boy to begin spilling into his condom involuntarily.

Jungkook stilled inside of you, biting your shoulder as he continued cumming an alarming amount. “Ahhh,” Jungkook panted, his teeth grazing your skin, “Noona…Fuck, that was—”

“Amazing.” You panted under him; eyes closed with a dreamy smile on your face. Jungkook nodded in agreement releasing a deep breath before sitting back on his heels and carefully pulling out of you.

You felt oddly empty after he exited you, and your legs began trembling intensely once he climbed off of you. Noticing this, Jungkook told you to stay put as he put his pants back on and exited the fort again. You waited for him patiently with your hands laced over your stomach, waiting for your heartbeat to slow. You felt a whirlwind of emotion now that you’d finally had sex for the first time. It was definitely everything it was chalked up to be, you thought as you looked at the sheets slowly becoming illuminated by the lightness of the sky.

But overall, you weren’t disappointed with your first time, and that’s what mattered to you the most. In fact, it was so much better than you thought it would be, and you were already forming a plan to ask Jungkook for a round two once your body was more rested.

Jungkook returned shortly after with his bedsheets balled up in between his arms. He fanned them out in the air then lay them over you before walking around and getting under them too. You smiled, realizing he did this so you wouldn’t have to get redressed right away while you waited for your legs to stop shaking. Jungkook spooned you, placing his arm over your midsection and pulling you into him before placing a sweet kiss atop your head. You both hummed, feeling the exhaustion from having sex for the first time hitting you like a ton of bricks. As the sun came up, you both drifted off to sleep in contentment.

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wevegottogetaway · 3 years

Text

Crashing into you

Sooo, I have no idea where this concept came from but here is you and Harry surviving a plane crash only to find yourselves stranded on an island (featuring best friends to lovers and who knows what else). There is more to come after this part, I’m just really busy with uni at the moment, so smaller pieces at the time it is. Please leave some feedback if you have any, or tell me what you would like to see happen in future parts! Happy reading xx

It wasn’t supposed to happened.

None of it was. Not the birds. Not the fire. Not the nose-dive.

And you weren’t supposed to be there either. Weren’t supposed to find yourselves floating 35,000 feet over endless stretches of sea when it happened. Not you and certainly not Harry whose presence was only the result of his boundless generosity.

It was a last minute trip on your part, an emergency response to the calling of a friend back in London; they’d gotten hospitalized and you were their emergency contact, pretty simple maths. Your assistance was irremissible and since it was cutting your time short with Harry, he didn’t hesitate before offering both his support and an express flight aboard some kind of private jet. None of you knew it at the time, but that decision turned out to be a twisted expression of serendipity, a very sick jock that the universe wasn’t supposed to make.

Except it did happened and there was no escaping the cataclysm that ensued.

***

The cabin of the small plane is plunged in peaceful silence, the deep whir of its engines and the soft snores wafting through Harry’s nose the only white noises filling the space. There is no fussing toddler, no businessman talking loudly on the phone, no arguing couple; just you and Harry, one flight attendant and two pilots. Everything around you looks pristine and expensive, from the champagne you were offered but declined at the beginning of the flight, to the refined suede upholstery covering all the seats.

You’re not used to the luxury, and frankly, neither is Harry.

He doesn’t use private planes very often, doesn’t think it makes much sense to waste all that toxic kerosene when commercial flights do the job perfectly, and doesn't like how they make him feel like the diva some people mistakenly make him out to be. But for you he’d bend the rules. For you he’d bend over and backwards to assuage any of your pains and worries. You had been so on edge when you told him about your friend, so desperate to be there for them, he had just wanted to be there for you in turn.

That’s why the two of you hopped in this small aircraft nearly four hours ago, with his hand drawing comforting shapes on your back. Now, you find yourself absentmindedly nipping at your nails, overthinking ever possible scenario that could unfold once you land and find your friend. In deep conversation with your conscience, you’ve been looking out the small window to your right, as if any of the two blue immensities painting the horizon knew all the secrets that you needed. They don’t; if anything, they bring their own mysteries to an already confusing world.

The atmosphere inside the plane is so inert, it feels like someone pressed the pause button. The flight attendant has remained quietly by her station, waiting for any signal that would indicate her presence required, and the pilots haven’t piped a word since their polite ‘have a lovely flight,’ when you first boarded the plane. The little company wouldn’t bother you so much, if Harry hadn’t fallen asleep thirty minutes in, leaving you to your own devices. You figure you can’t be too grumpy about it though, he did just rent a plane for your sake after all. Plus, his unconscious state has allowed you to ogle his sleepy figure for hours without being noticed, a treat you’re rarely privy to on top of being a nice distraction from your current troublesome thoughts.

Three years. Three years you’ve been a very dedicated friend to him and he to you. Three years of holding each other’s hand through any hardships and laughing till you’re blue in the face; three years of always supporting each other in your craziest undertakings and inspiring each other to be the best version of yourselves. You two are an indestructible pair and your friendship is the purest, most sacred thing you were given in this world.

Except, it’s also been three years of mind-boggling and consuming feelings that can’t be quelled and have no limits. Three years of secret glances when he’s too focused on something else to notice. Three years of talking yourself down from those feeling, but to no avail; they keep coming back full force and with a vengeance. It quickly became a full time job really, an art you mastered over time. At first because he was happily in a relationship, so there was no speculating whether your affections could be returned. Then once that ended, you were already so wired to ignore the skip of your heartbeats when he looks at you tenderly, or the soft and sometimes borderline ambiguous cuddles he gives you when he’s had one too many Margaritas; that the fantasy of him loving you the way you do was just unfathomable, you never even considered speaking up about it.

But these were your three years, not his.

You let out a deep sigh, as your musings once again circle back to your unrequited love. You wish you had more control over them, could limit them to sleepy fabulation sweetening your mind right before you surrender to unconsciousness. But alas, them come and go as they please, slip into your mind at any inopportune time, often betraying you by pigmenting your cheeks in cerise-colored bashfulness. Even now, in the stillness of the pressurized cabin, as your eyes settle back on his slouched form in the seat opposite yours, your skin can’t help but heat up in fondness.

Before you can get too lost in the soft eyelashes caressing his cheekbones, or the cupid bow shaping his pink supple lips, or the way a few of his mischievous curls are dandling in front of his face, slightly fluttering at each soft puff coming out of his mouth…yeah, before you get too lost in all that, you reach for the small bottle of water sitting on a small table.

You barely have the cap unscrewed before a massive tremor shakes the whole aircraft, spilling half of the bottle’s content on your lap. Your hand immediately white knuckles the armrest of your seat, your eyes widening in fear and frantically scoping the cabin for the flight attendant or anyone that could tell you what the hell is going on. Then the panic pumping through your veins prompts you to check on Harry and wake him back to alertness, but to your relief, he’s already groggily shaking the slumber from his limbs with a deep frown on his face. "Wha’s goin’ on?"

If dread wasn’t firing each of your nerve-endings, you’d find his grumpy look and slurred speech quite adorable, but the sight of the frazzled-looking stewardess coming towards you is sending a different kind of chills down your spine. These people are trained to maintain composure in all circumstances, so her trepidation can only mean one of two things: she’s either very new at her job or there is clearly a cause for concern.

"You two need to fasten your seat belts immediately," she speaks hurriedly.

"Sophia, what’s going on?" Harry reiterates his question with more alarm.

"We’ve collided with a flock of birds. We don’t know the extent of the damage yet, so I need you two to buckle in."

You and Harry share a worried look then, still confused about the situation. The plane has regain some semblance of stability, it seems, but Sophia’s anxious behavior doesn’t sooth your nerves one bit. She makes a quick exit back toward the cockpit, probably to discuss the ordeal further with the pilots. You gulp your uneasiness away, fidgeting on your seat as your hands blindly feel around for the safety belt, but the image greeting your eyes as they veer back to the window has your heart dropping to your knees.

Lambent orange and red flaring from the engines and lapping at the wing. Black smoke leaving an angry trail behind the plane and fogging up the windows.

"Harry," you barely manage to breath his name out and the urgency of your tone has him straighten up in his seat. "Harry the wing is on fire." You twist your head back towards him only to find him jumping from his seat to plop down next to you. The absolute gleam of terror swimming in your eyes makes his blood turn cold, so he quickly takes your hand in both of his before glancing at the carnage taking place outside. He gulps in apprehension before buckling his seatbelt and checking that yours is clasped in as well.

"Fuck, okay, it’s okay, love. Everything’s gonna be okay." It’s more prayers than reassurances tumbling out of his mouth, squeezing at your hand in plea, and a couple seconds after his utterance the tremors resume with greater intensity. You both can feel the aircraft slanting downward as everything around you start shaking as though you were caught in an earthquake. Except, you couldn’t be further from earth at the moment, and the shaking is not going to just pass after a while.

Objects start falling and rolling down all over, the tray of complimentary drinks tumbling down from the back of the plane to crash at the front. You and Harry are wrapped up in a protective embrace, tucking your faces in each others neck to avoid impact and because you’re both too afraid to look at the unfurling chaos. You can feel your seatbelt straining against your lower belly in a dire attempt to keep you in one place, but as the plane starts plummeting for good, top becomes bottom, right becomes left, and your bodies become masses thrown around at the hands of gravity just like everything else.

The last thing you hear before everything goes south is a defeated ‘brace for impact’ coming from the small intercom of the cabin. You feel the brutal shock of the plane hitting smooth surface if it weren’t for the speed of the collision, and then it’s just water.

Water everywhere. Water enveloping your body in a frigid clutch, water weighing you down as it imbibes every fiber of your clothes, water invading your retinas and blurring your vision. Water seeping through your mouth, pouring into your lungs when you feel the skin at your shin torn by sharp metal.

You vaguely hear your name being shouted, but the shortage of oxygen in your system makes you feel delirious. At this point you barely have enough energy to fight unconsciousness, much less the threat of your crumbling surroundings. That’s how you don’t feel the hand grasping at your shoulder and hosting you up on a floating piece of broken wing. Harry is holding onto it for dear life as well, muttering more prayers and encouraging words for you to please stay with him but soon you are both overthrown by your unconscious, slowly drifting away on the makeshift buoy.

***

When Harry regains consciousness, the first things he feels is hard grounds underneath him. His ears are ringing, his throat is sore and his mouth feels dry, not to mention the splitting headache jackhammering at his skull. Groaning and frowning at the pain, that’s when he realizes that the ground against the skin of his cheek isn’t completely hard, but rather granular at the touch. Slowly, he brings his hands higher near his face and flattens them to hoist himself up. Once on his knees, he finally blinks his eyes opened, squinting at the blinding luminosity of the sun. And then it’s just sand.

Sand everywhere. Sand stretching miles into the distance. Sand itching at the joints of his fingers, sand creeping inside his shoes and clothes, sand weaving through his hair. Sand obnoxiously lingering on his lips, and as he tries to brush it off with the back of his hand, he has to spit some out of his mouth after realizing that said hand is also covered in it.

How did he find himself stranded on a freaking island? How did this happen? How could he be one minute safely by your sides, helping you through a tough situation, and then the next, thrown into the deep end - quite literally - scrambling for his life because some dumb birds decided to crash in the engine of the plane? Why him, why-

It’s a jolt to his brain then, an electric shock firing his body up to a standing position when the thought of you clashes in his mind. His breathing picks up considerably as he recalls the last time he saw you, passed out on the broken part of the wrecked airplane. He’d passed out soon after you as well, but what had happened since then? Had you find your way on this desolate beach as well? Or had your unconscious body slipped back into the water and sank all the way to the ocean floor until you reached that hidden museum of all the things and beings that fell victim to the sea?

Harry shudders at the thought. No. He’s not loosing you, now or ever, he convinces himself as he frantically jogs along the beach. Not when he never got his chance. His heart is lodged in his throat and threatening to escape at every passing second. Not when he still has unfinished, or rather, un-commenced business with you. Sweat drips down his face in searing droplet, a faint sting above his left eye barely registering in his frantic mind. Not before you know his last secret. His breathing is starting to get scarce until finally, finally his blurry eyes fall upon a figure stretched out on the sand, waves still licking at their feet. His job turns into a sprint as he begs for them to be you and for you to still be alive, desperate cries of your name echoing in the wilderness. "Please be okay, please be okay, fuck I need y-"

His relief is short lived once he takes in your passed out form, the blueish hue of your lips and the very lack of movement of your chest, twisting his guts in a painful knot. Harry abruptly falls to his knees next to you and brings his ear to your body hoping for any indication that you are still breathing. He fights the onslaught of hyperventilation that threatens to take over his body when he finds none and quickly checks your pulse at your carotid. His eyes pinch in brief respite: it’s faint but it’s there.

His brain almost goes into overdrive as he tries to recall everything he knows about CPR before his hands instinctively start pressing at your chest as though they already know what to do. It gives him time to absorb all the composure he can muster and think more clearly. He’s got to keep your heart going, that much he knows, and if you’re not breathing, it’s probably because you’ve got water in your lungs. Upon the realization he briefly stops the cardiac massage to pinch your nose and blow as much air as he can into your mouth.

For the next couple of minutes he does just that, alternating between insufflating oxygen through your mouth and pressing at your heart. His own breaks every time he pulls away from your lips and they still don’t pink back up to their usual lovely cherry color. Tears roll down his face in a constant flow, forcing him to wipe his face against the material of his shirt at his shoulder; there is no way in hell he is stopping his action for even a fraction of a second. He’ll die trying to save you before you die on him, and then he’d kick you ass from heaven down to hell for even thinking of leaving him behind.

All of a sudden you start coughing wet sounds from your throat, your body jolting from its spot on the sand. Harry’s never been so happy to hear someone choke (on water, that is) and as you turn your body sideways to let out all the excess of water clogging your chest, he closes his eyes and tilts his head back towards the sky in gratitude. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," he whispers out in relief, before regaining his breathing and focusing back on you. He draws soothing circle against your back as you cough the last bit of water out of your mouth, pushing your hair out of your face to give you space to breath. Lord knows you need it.

"It’s okay, pet. You’re okay, you’re alive. Fuck you’re alive, I can’t- please don’t ever do that to me ever again, you hear me?" He rambles at you as he cups your face with two trembling hands. He is in shamble in front of you, the high he was caught up in, in his order to save you finally dissolving and leaving only but shock and despair in its aftermath. You’d come this close to die in his arms, you both realize. This close from your life being highjacked from his in the middle of nowhere and the thought turns your blood even colder than it already is.

"‘kay, m’okay, Harry. We’re both okay," you reassure him too, and just hearing the sound of your hoarse voice is enough to calm him some. He brings you in a bear hug, tucking your face underneath his chin and draping is other arm over your back. You don’t hesitate before you return his embrace by wrapping your arms around his waist.

For a hot minute you remain intertwined in silence as you breath each other in and revel in the fact that you both survived the crash. Once your heartbeats have lowered down to healthier levels, you slightly part from each other and your eyes glisten as you lock them with his. "You saved my life, Harry," you whisper out to him with a tender caress at his cheeks, trying to ignore the small cut at his brow bone. "I just- thank you, thank you so much."

He answers with a small shake of his head, "don’t thank me, pet. I can’t imagine what I woulda done if y- if I couldn’t-" he struggles to let the words out and his face turns into a grimace at their implication. "M’just so relieved you’re alive, I’m the one thankful for that if anythin’," he ends up saying against the palm of your hand before leaving a small peck there.

As you move to stand up, you feel a sharp sting at your shin as soon as you apply pressure on your right leg. Looking down, you spot a gash at the skin, it’s not too profound that you won’t be able to walk, but it definitely needs tending to if you don’t want it to get infected. You let out a quiet ‘fuck’ in frustration before catching the look of concern of Harry’s face. "It’s fine," you brush it off, "just gonna need to clean it out. That cut on your face as well," you motion at his injury and he brings his hand up to feel out the cut in confusion. He hadn’t noticed the small wound, you realize. "Right, yeah," he answers after inspecting the patch of blood coating his fingers now.

Now that the shock of the situation is slowly dissipating and that reality is setting in, you both start thinking about the next course of action. You’re both alive and relatively unscathed, but now what? How do you get out form this place? Where even is this place? And how do you go home? It becomes increasingly obvious that you don’t have much resources and that you need some sort of plan if you want to survive.

"What about Sophia and the pilots? Do you know what happened to them?" you suddenly remember the rest of the crew. Perhaps they know more about how to proceed in such a situation. They might even know where you’re located, how far you are from home and what’s the procedure to ensure everyone’s survival and rescue.

"I dunno, love. Didn’t see them when we were in the water, I think they might have been on the other side of the plane," the somber look on his face betrays his pessimism as to their fate. They would be on the beach as well if they had survived. As the same reasoning courses through your mind, you look down in sadness at the vicious image of them struggling in the water before succumbing to the fatigue. Harry notices your pained expression and brings you back against his frame to leave a small comforting kiss at your hairline.

"Alright, it’s gonna be fine," you declare in pretend confidence. "People will start looking for us, right?" you try to make light of the conversation. "Hell, there’s probably going to be a whole unit created to find you as soon as we don’t show up in London and I’m sure they’ll find us fast." Hope is emulating in your belly where water had previously drown your vigor. You’re probably right; surely, if the one and only Harry Styles disappears in the middle of a plane crash, the response will be worthy of the man.

He doesn’t seem to quite share the sentiment however, if the small frown and nervous nipping at his lips suggest anything. "Love, I- Jeff’s the only one who knows we were going back to England. He might not notice right away." It’s his own fear talking, the idea that it might take more than a day for people to notice their unsettling absence.

On a normal schedule, him and Jeff would be in constant contact, sharing details for the next day’s agenda, planning tours, interviews, promotions and pitching in ideas for new projects, but be that as it may, Harry was currently on vacation. He’d taken a couple weeks off to relieve the pressure from the last busy months and catch up on some much needed time with you, and Jeff knew that meant a little less consistent contact for this break to be as rejuvenating as expected. Would he think much of the absence of texts from his friend? At some point definitely, but how long would it take for concern to replace dismissal?

Talk about rejuvenation.

"What about the plane company?" you ask, not ready to see your hopes dwindle down.

He seems surprised at the thought for a second before the anxious lines on his face smooth out some, iridescent eyes locking with your own in renewed faith. "You’re right, Jeff was the one who made the booking, so the company will have to contact him once they know about the crash." You let your lips quirk into a soft smile at his optimism before he adds, "we just have to survive until then."

"Right," you dial back on the heart-talking and dares your brain to recall any tips about survival behavior you’ve ever heard. "So we need find water asap and to make a fire before the night falls." You know water should be your priority, you have three days before you die of dehydration, maybe even less under this blazing sun. And despite behind surrounded by water, you know that the sea can’t help you with that. It’s quite ironic in a sense, you find yourself trapped by water, yet the biggest threat to you in that instance is the lack of water consumption. As for the fire, you also know temperature can drop very low at night in places like this and since you don’t have anything to bundle yourselves in, hypothermia is your second biggest threat.

Harry nods in approval before looking around. The beach is enclosed between the sea and endless stretch of luxuriant green tropical jungle. "Come on then, we should try and see if anything from the plane made it out on the beach. I think I saw some pieces earlier, maybe we’ll find something to store water." You think it’s a brilliant idea since you will need some kind of container should you be successful in your quest for water. And with that, you both start walking back towards the edge of the shore, Harry’s hand holding tightly to your shoulder keeping you close to him.

➪ Masterlist

#harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #best friends to lovers #reader insert #creative writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles ou

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matchesarelit · 3 years

Text

All The Luck In The Verse (Simon Tam X Gender-neutral Reader)

Warnings: Inuendos, mentions of moaning, dirty and cute flirting, swearing, mentions of fake medicine and drugs, joking mention of sexual orgy escapade (it's only like a sentence they make as a joke)

Word count ~ 1250

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

...

I always thought it was strange how the verse seemed larger when one was with others, back in the early years after the war everyone was still closely knit and everything was within my eyesight, all within reach. Yet after spending years on my own, no matter how far I travel, the abyss feels claustrophobic.

A few hours earlier

*Docked ship ejecting in 3… 2... 1..*

The ship’s warning fell on deaf ears as I focussed on matching the blows dealt by my target and getting the upper hand. I had only been on his ship for twenty minutes before I came face to face with the man before me. Various henchmen had been disposed of easily, but a misstep and the consequential whir of my spurs took surprisingly my target off the table.

Finally grabbing the nape of his neck from behind I thrust his skull forward into the closest surface. Although this did complete my assignment it also meant that part of the bridge’s systems had been smashed, setting off red lights from all around.

*Engines overpowered*

*All power will go offline in 3… 2… 1…*

A silence fell like a blanket to cover my battered being.

In all honesty, if I had chosen a different career or if being a mercenary was more of a social industry, I may not feel this way. So I guess it is all my fault. Then again, what was someone raised to kill meant to do? hand themselves in or retire to the outer worlds? No, I was trained to kill. Not to mention I am fucking great at it.

Or at least I’m alright, cause it's hard to believe a great mercenary would be this close to floating off into space for the rest of eternity.

My wounds, all minor scratches, had been simply dressed within minutes and I soon began walking in search of water. Treading along the halls my metal surroundings echoed my steps and the sounds of my spurs that followed. The only light that remained was that of the flashlight I had taken from a henchman’s suit on my way out of the bridge.

After refilling my flask I wander about the ship, browsing the rooms of my target and his minions; finding a few knives and guns as well as some petty change, nothing too exciting. So I made my own fun, an improvised game of darts.

The next few days were repetitive yet calming enough to push away the thought of this becoming the rest of my life. I would wake up, have breakfast, work out, play darts, have dinner, drink, darts, sleep and repeat.

It was on the fifth day, or so, that I was pulled from a rousing game of darts by the opening of a metallic door. The docking door, to be specific.

Before the door had fully opened I situated myself around the corner from the threshold, barefoot and prepared for a fight. Or be it reavers coming through that door, prepared to spare myself the agony.

“If anyone is alive in there get on your knees and slide your weapons towards the door.” The voice was commanding yet If there was to be a fight I knew I was capable of holding my own. It wasn’t until a softer “I don’t think anyone’s left in there Cap’n (Captain)”

“Kaylee?” I shouted as I made my way towards the door, “Kaylee Frye? What in the verse are you doing out here?”

“Y/n, Is that really you? Everyone said you died on that mission in ‘54”

“Nah, are you kidding? There was already a bounty on my head. I had to run. I assumed everyone back home knew.”

She threw her arms around my shoulders and held me in place tightly,

Once I was free of Kaylee’s clutches I explained the state of the ship and offered Kaylee’s crew the bounty of my target in exchange for a ride to my next job. An offer which a lady by the name of Zoe had accepted before their captain had a chance to open his mouth.

Within minutes of the body being loaded and the ship detaching, Kaylee was pulling me towards the infirmary, muttering endlessly about my reckless nature and my current gory state.

“I’m going to try to find the Doc,” She stated as she gently placed me in the chair that sat alone in the middle of the space. Yet her voice hardened as she commanded “Stay here”.

Barely two minutes had passed before another figure joined me in the room, his eyes were cast towards the floor and he was muttering slowly to himself. He hadn’t noticed my presence yet so I decided to have some fun.

“We are running low on Pennezine, yet we could use a mix of terrozeth and lethozar as a painkiller for the time being so it isn’t too urgent.” He continued to mutter to himself, as he examined the samples on the bench, his back to me, yet only feet away. Turning on my side I face him and confirm;

“Yeah I’d say it works, it’s gotten me out of a few pickles yet it can make one go a bit loopy.” He froze as his eyes shot up to catch my reflection in the glass in front of him. Yet I continued on. “Tripled my bounty as I crashed a poker game, then, still on a buzz, I had some consensual fun with a barful of miscreants.” At the finishing of my story the man I assumed to be the doctor cast his eyes down back towards the desk as a blush flooded his cheeks.

“There you are doc, Can you check my friend over, ain’t exactly the best at staying out of harm's way” Kaylee called as she passed the infirmary doors barely pausing.

“It’s my job Kaylee, I can't exactly avoid it.” I yelled after her and chuckled waiting at the back of my throat.

“Sooo, I’m Doctor Simon Tam, and I assume you are the infamous ‘Psythe’ I’ve heard about in Kaylee’s many tales.”

I jokingly scoff and roll my eyes before firing back, in my most flirtatious voice “Well, you are not exactly an unknown yourself. I remember hearing quite a few people whispering about ‘That cute wanted doctor guy on the news’,” Seeing the blush he had willed down reappearing up his neck I began to mimic; “‘Ooh He could hold me hostage anytime.’ ‘Knife play is overrated, I want to try scalpel play with him.’ ‘ You know he is good with his hands ” I had one more example, okay I hadn't really heard this one but here we go anyway.

I started the next one with a guttural fake moan “‘God, A man like that knows how to mess up your guts no holds barred because he knows how to put you back together again.’”

Without a sound he spun around, roughly grabbing my wrists and pinning them above my head, holding them in place with one hand, his eyes studying every muscle of my face. “Either you are all bark and no bite, in which case you will shut your mouth and I will check over your wounds for the next hour.” He paused, dragging his eyes the length of my form. “Or, you give me the word and the next hour can be put to better use.”

Despite the jelly-like feeling, he sent through my knees I met his eyes

“Oh I do indeed bite”

#Simon tam #firefly #simon tam x reader

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bbyannabeth · 3 years

Text

ANNUAL WRITING SELF-EVALUATION

thank you lexi @timelesslords for tagging me!! (several hours ago but oh well, i got around to it eventually lol)

1. number of stories posted to AO3: 18

2. word count posted for the year: 160,104 (it tried to say if we loved again was part of 2022 bc i posted on the first but. no)

3. fandoms i wrote for: PJO

4. pairings: Percy/Annabeth, Reyna/Piper

5. story with the most...

kudos: got me right where you want me, baby (could i be more obvious?)

bookmarks: got me right where you want me, baby (could i be more obvious?)

comments: if we loved again

6. work i’m most proud of (and why): definitely if we loved again! i've put so much time and effort into this story and it's been so fun seeing everyone react every week. i've never had a fic like this that gets so much interaction and it makes me really excited to do more multi chapter fics in the future

7. work i’m least proud of (and why): got it on record its literally so boring. i still have a part two in the works but like...... i doubt it'll ever come out LMFAO

8. share or describe a favourite review you received: i've gotten sooo many amazing, sweet comments on if we loved again and there was this one that said

I’ve had the week from hell working in retail and I was just about to go to bed when my eyes SHOT open bc I remembered it was a Wednesday and my ADHD ass hadn’t checked to see the new chap yet!! This part absolutely broke me because I would have reacted the exact same way that Annabeth did (down to the “Nope”s and leaving immediately) so that really resonated with me. I can’t wait to see how this gets resolved - and I’m very glad you still have several chapters left because nothing bothers me more than rushed, half-assed conflict resolution! Your stories never fail to move me (I’d say that they always make me smile but they aren’t always happy, and sometimes as writers our goal is to just evoke emotion!) Side note: I screamed ATW 10min version today while I was driving and thought of this story

and the whole comment made me really happy but specifically the last part made smile so much because like. i do that?? with other fics??? and the fact that someone was listening to taylor and was thinking of MY fic??? i screamed

9. a time when writing was really, really hard: it was actually really hard to keep up with the 25 days of xmas prompts. writing everyday like that was really difficult, plus i was going through some family issues at the time and simply.. didn't want to write. but i sort of felt obligated to. i'm glad i got through it but it wasn't easy. especially bc i was also writing she leaves, then she lingers and i'd write this in the sky during the same time. i kept falling behind on something at all times and i was being really hard on myself

10. a scene or character you wrote that surprised you: i never expected to write a major character death fic, but i did and i'm actually really impressed with how it turned out. it's not my favorite or anything, but i do think i did really well with tugging at everyone's heartstrings (sorry if u cried. me too).

i'm also pretty surprise at the angst in if we loved again. i'm not super good at angst, or at least i don't think i am, but judging by everyone's reactions, i've done pretty good with it and i'm really proud of it

11. a favorite excerpt of your writing: i really tried to push myself with i can see the end as it begins and i tried to focus a lot on how they were feeling with everything going on, and i feel like i did pretty well with that. i like this part specifically and i saw a few people comment on these lines

“i didn’t know what to say, and then blackjack landed on the roof and beck-,” his voice died for a second and a whole new wave of pain hit as she remembered their friend. he cleared his throat. “we had to go, and she just kissed me and told me to go be a hero or something.”

annabeth thought about how little rachel understood about their world. go be a hero was telling percy go head first into battle. and if she knew anything about percy, she would know that meant percy would do anything and everything for the people he loved, even if it cost him his own life. being a hero, for percy, was a death sentence.

annabeth wished he would stop being a hero. she selfishly wished he would take a step back and let someone else take the fall so that percy could live another day.

the line "being a hero, for percy, was a death sentence" was always one that stuck out to me, i think. i really like that line and i think it shows how bad of a position percy was in. he wanted to save everyone and be the hero he was supposed to be, regardless of the cost.

12. how did you grow as a writer this year: oh gosh. i actually started delving into angst which has been so fun and i'm definitely going to continue doing so. i started planning my fics more?? i think doing so helps me make them longer. when i first started i'd write this in the sky, i thought it was going to be like 7k.... it was 20k LOL. i also wrote and finished two multi chapter fics, and started another one that will be finished roughly by june(ish). i never thought i would be someone who could commit to a real, long fic like that, but i did and i'm proud of myself

13. how do you hope to grow next year: like i mentioned, i want to keep writing angst. i want to get better at it. i also really want to start learning how to foreshadow more. like i want readers to get to the end of a fic and realize the end had subtly been mentioned throughout the whole fic and there's this whole "OHHH" moment, if that makes sense. maybe it makes absolutely no sense, i don't do it so i wouldn't know

14. who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc): my girlfriend has always been a really good motivator for me. she works really hard and it makes me want to work harder, but she also makes sure i don't push myself.

also, i've only known them a couple of months (but god, has it felt longer) but being friends with The Hooligans (aka @captain-jackson, @timelesslords, @scrxbbler-fics, and @impossibleandinsufferable) has been really fun in the way that they make me more excited about my own fics. like i told my gf once that carrie's reactions to iwla every week (though they are threatening) has become one of my favorite parts of posting. there's nothing like posting a new chapter and then twenty minutes later, carrie and heidi are yelling at me<3 when i was writing iwtits (or ew tits, as they lovingly named it), they were all excited and supportive and it's just ??? such a new experience for me to have friends who care about my writing like this??? plus, almost all of us are writers (sry heidi go away<3) and it's been very new and comforting to have writer friends to talk about the struggles of writing, if that makes sense. like we've had a handful of convos about how it can be draining, or how writer's block sucks, or how people demanding more from you can suck. i've never had anyone else that i've talked to about that.

sorry that was so long but tldr; i love my friends very much and i'm very very grateful for how wonderful they are, even when they are bullying me about iwla<3

15. anything from your real life show up in your writing this year: i have a few fics that were inspired by my friends, like coffee at midnight and kiss me twice 'cause it's gonna be alright if that counts. also my taylor swift obsession really peaked through. just a little.

16. any new wisdom you can share with other writers: if you want to write a long fic, i would really recommend finishing most-all of it before ever posting the first chapter. i've done that with every long fic i've posted (with the exception of i can see the end as it begins bc that wasn't meant to be a multi chap) and i think it helped me so much. it takes off a LOT of the pressure because all that's left to do is edit and post. or if you have most of it done, you know that you need to finish it, but you have more time and you feel less rushed. i've always found there's a lot less pressure when doing the whole thing before ever posting the first chapter

17. any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year: i'm soooo excited to finish the tlo rewrite. i want to keep pushing myself with that and focusing on their characters and what they're feeling bc i feel like i often dont focus on it enough

18. tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read. (totally not required to do this y’all I always hate when things say you gotta do it)

i have no one to tag hehe so anyone who wants to, pls feel free!

#hooligans don't ever say i dont love u. that paragraph about yall was so long. mwah love u all

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theaviskullguy · 3 years

Text

Ink and Petals

@dapple-dualies-propaganda here's the au

Tattoo artist! Rider x Florist! Goggles

hope you enjoy!

---------

When was it not busy at Squid ink?

It was one of the top Tattoo Parlors in Inkopolis. and it was also on a pretty busy street. So, it got a lot of customers. Also the fact that one of the artists was a famous turfer.

Rider hadn't formerly retired, but he had eased out of playing Turf Wars. He had found other interests outside of the sport: Theater, art, reviewing old movies online... He still did Turf from time to time, albeit the adult league. He was too old for the more popular teen division.

So, he found a job as a tattoo artist. And he rather loved it. Not only did most of his friends consult him for tattoo advice (from where the best places are to good designs), but he also knew some gossip. One of his regulars had beef with her neighbor because he has a pet raccoon who keeps stealing her trash and Rider could NOT wait to hear more about this story.

Another thing was, well, Rider had seen some shit. From people covered head to toe in tats, to people eagerly wanting their first tattoo, even to shyer folk who wanted one to defy controlling parents or to mark something important.

None of that prepared Rider for the news he got when tattooing one of the customers. More specifically, Gloves.

You see, Gloves had been coming in for the past few days. They had wanted a pretty complicated butterfly tat, so for the last 3 days Rider has been exchanging stories with the resident enby about... pretty much anything.

This is how this exchange happened;

"So you remember Goggles, right?" Gloves asked.

Rider rolled his eyes. "What, you think I'd forget the guy who kept pulling down my pants?"

"Oh ha ha. Anyways, apparently he works at that flower shop now."

"...He what?"

"You heard me!" They said. "I went there yesterday to get something for a project and there was Goggles! He misses you, 'ya know!"

Rider was just. quiet. He hadn't talked to his crush in a while, contact dwindled when Rider stopped doing Turf as much. Never once did he think Goggles would miss him, but that was probably the self hatred talking.

"...I'll think about it." Was all Rider said.

The conversation continued like nothing happen; Gloves saying multiple cursed things and Rider sharing interesting stories he heard on his job. Time flew by and soon, the tattoo was done; a butterfly with the bi colors on one wing and the nb colors on the other. Rider was quite proud of it, and Gloves seemed to like it. They waved, and left the store, humming to themselves.

Rider looked at the clock. His shift ended in just a few minutes. He knew he had no other appointments that day, so he took to watching old recorded matches in his phone.

Those were over a decade ago. Yet he still remembered everything. His favorite part was still learning he won a match by such a small margin. It was just... amazing.

He sighed. Rider missed those battles. But he has to say, he missed his crush a bit more.

He clocked out, saying goodbye to the other employee-Cherry (business relationships were easy to maintain when your coworkers were your siblings), and headed towards the flower shop for more reasons than one.

Army had a performance the next day. And yeah, Rider knew it was romantic, but platonically giving your best friend flowers was always nice. Plus, he wanted an excuse to see Goggles again.

He looked into the shop-the blue inkling was nowhere to be seen, but then again neither was the front desk. So, Rider shrugged and stepped in.

The floral scent was strong, but not overwhelming. Plenty of blossoms lined the stands, along with tags of what the flowers were and what they meant.

Rider looked around, trying to remember which flowers Army liked again, when he heard a familiar, youthful voice.

"Hi! Need any help?"

The inkling turned around. Goggles had definitely changed since Rider last saw him; his tentacles were longer and in an actual bun, for once. His blue eyes still had that clarity, and he still had that goofy smile. Though he didn't seem to recognize Rider.

"Uhh... I'll be fine. I'm just trying to remember what flower my friend likes the most." He said, hoping his accent didn't give him away; there weren't many in Inkopolis with an Australian accent.

But, Goggles didn't seem to notice or care. "Oh, okay!"

Rider internally breathed a sigh of relief. That would have been awkward if Goggles recognized him.

He looked around the shop, before spotting a bouquet of lilies. He knew Army liked lilies. If they weren't his favorite flower, it'd be close enough.

Rider took a few of the bigger ones, and a few white roses for variety, and took them to the counter.

Goggles smiled. "This a special occasion?"

"Not exactly. Just, my friend's doing a performance for a musical and I wanted to get him something for it." Rider explained.

"What musical?" Gogs asked, arranging the flowers with a sheer, white ribbon tying them together.

"Hadestown. He got Eurydice."

"Oh! I went to go see it last night! Army's amazing at that role. He's your friend, right?"

Rider internally panicked, but calmed down after remembering he wasn't Army's only friend. "Yeah. We've been friends for a while now."

"Well, tell him I said hi!" He handed the bouquet to Rider. "On me, alright? It's for a friend anyways!"

Rider nodded. "Thanks, mate."

"You're welcome!"

------

A few weeks went by. Rider occasionally stopped at the flower shop and got flowers for...well, no real reason. He'd use them to add color to his house, or give them to friends. He just wanted an excuse to see Goggles.

He'd talked to the blue inkling a bit more, too. He'd gotten into the business since, well, he really liked flowers, and he wanted a job where he could just...relax! He still did Turf, of course, but the Adult league was more serious than the teen one, and he just wanted to have fun instead of be expected to take a game seriously.

He still didn't recognize Rider. The yellow-green inkling was a bit hurt by this, to be honest.

Though, it was a bit startling when Goggles actually walked into Rider's work. And Rider was assigned to give Goggles his first tattoo: A blue jay on his shoulder, taking off from a branch.

This time, it was Goggles' turn to ask questions as Rider worked.

"Sooo.... you've been coming into my shop for a while and I still don't know your name!" The blue inkling stated. "I mean, you can probably recognize me though!"

Rider shrugged. "Well, who can forget Goggles of the Idiot Blue team?"

Goggles giggled. "You do know me! I still don't know you!!"

"...I can assure you, we've met before that day I got Army flowers." Rider said.

"Ooh! Can I try and guess who you are?"

"Ehh, why not."

"Okay! Umm..." Goggles thought for a moment. "Clams facemask?"

Rider shook his head. "Nope."

"Inkfall?"

"Wrong."

"Eging Jr?"

"Not even close there."

"Stealth Goggles?"

"Getting closer, I'll give you that."

"....Rider?" Goggles asked.

Rider chuckled. "Took you long enough, idiot."

Goggles smiled wide. "I finally found you! Hi Riri!"

"Hey, Gogs. It's been a while."

"Yeah! I'm a bit surprised I didn't recognize you, since we were pretty close!" Goggles stated.

Rider shrugged. "Well, I'm not the most memorable person anyways."

"Riderrrrr don't say that!" Goggles said. "You're still really popular!"

"To some people, maybe. Not everyone."

There was a tense silence, other than the hum of the tattoo needle as it made the drawing.

"....So." Goggles started again. "How's life?"

"It's...well, better than it was." Rider said. "Got my own place, for one. Though it gets a bit lonely.. You?"

"I'm still living in an apartment. I really want a roommate!" Goggles proclaimed. "Maybe we could move in together?"

"..I'll think about it, Gogs. Though it might be fun being your roommate."

"Really? Thanks Rider!" Goggled smiled.

The conversation grew more casual. Rider enjoyed it; turns out Goggles had his fair share of gossip. It was kinda cool.

And as the next few days passed, Rider looked forward to each of those sessions. His crush seemed to go from "this person would be fun to date i think" to "hOLY MOTHER OF THE GODS IM IN L O V E", and it didn't help that during those meetings, Goggles had to be shirtless.

The days turned into weeks and months. Goggles moved in with Rider, and the two became incredibly close friends.

And, it came to a head near valentines day. Goggles' shop was very busy, as expected. Luckily, Squid Ink wasn't as much.

So, on his day off, just before Valentines, Rider headed to the flower shop and got a bouquet of roses. Cliché to confess on Valentines day, Rider knew, but he's a pining gay cut him some slack.

And Rider came home right as Goggles was leaving for his shift. So, that left Rider with a good 3 hours to practice his confession.

"Alright, Rider. This has to be CASUAL. 'Hey, I've liked you for over a decade but just now had the confidence to confess!' No, too creepy sounding. 'Yo, Gogs. I really like you and maybe we could go out to dinner sometimes?' ...Too casual."

....Yeah, this went on for a while.

Rider groaned, collapsing his his bed. "I wish feelings were fucking easier...I should just call Army."

So, he grabbed his phone and selected the contact, Veronica Sawyer Kinnie

"C'mon, Army... pick up."

And not one ring later, "Rider, what is it?"

"...I need romantic help. Please." Rider asked.

"Look, just because I'm married to Aloha, doesn't mean I know how I ended up here."

"Yeah, I kinda know that." He stated. "Still. I really need some help."

Army sighed. "Who is it? It's totally that one person with the raccoon story-"

"Actually, no. It's, um.... It's Goggles."

The octoling on the other end of the line could be heard sighing. "Still a morosexual I see."

"OI! You're the one who married a fuckin himbo!"

".....Touché. Still, there's a difference."

Rider huffed. "Just... give me some advice. I wanna confess to him tomorrow but I've got no idea how. I'm giving him roses, but like, there's gotta be something more I could do, y'know?"

"Have you tried asking Prince?" Army suggested. "He is the one with the obsession with rom coms and romance novels."

"This is his exam period, Army. I'm not about to potentially interrupt a cram session by asking for romantic advice!"

"Fair enough. I'd say...well, just rip off the band aid. Like... 'Hey, Goggles, I really like you and was wondering if you'd like to be my boyfriend.'"

"...Thanks, Arm. I'll, uh, give it a try."

-------

Rider couldn't sleep that well. Mainly out of anticipation.

He was gonna confess to his crush of...over a decade, at least. He didn't fuckin know what was gonna happen!

Like, would Goggles reciprocate? Would he hate Rider after it? WHAT THE FUCK WOULD HAPPEN-

He sighed. He needed to get his mind off this shit.

Rider looked over to his bedside clock: 5AM. 5 hours before his shift. 5 hours to get his shit together and plan for confessing to the world's cutest but also dumbest man later that night.

C'mon, Rider. Think. Army said to rip it off like a band aid, but Goggles might find that a little sudden and out of the blue. He could write a letter and leave it for Goggles when he went to his shift (The flower shop was closed on Valentines day). That would be a safe option.

Rider sat up, and got out a piece of paper and pencil, writing a note.

"Hey, Goggles.

There's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while. I really, really like you. As in, a crush.

I totally get it if you don't like me back, or think I'm weird, but hey, I was wondering if you'd wanna go out to dinner or something. Probably not tonight cause of Valentine's day but maybe tomorrow night or something.

-Rider"

Quickly, he folded it and wrote Goggles' name, putting a little heart sticker on it. It was corny, but hey, Rider had to use up those stickers somehow.

Rider attached it to the roses, and kept it on his desk.

And so, the morning went as normal. He had breakfast, got out of his pjs, put his hair up... the usual.

But as Rider left to go to work, he left the note and rose on the table, and left the house quickly.

During the day, he nearly forgotten all about it; He caught up with the gossip-Apparently the neighbor with the raccoon and the regular were now dating. So that was a nice little end to the story.

Squid Ink wasn't AS busy-probably because it was Valentines day, people were spending it with their lovers, not getting inked up (unless they made the appointment when single)

And it was near the end of Rider's shift when he heard his name mentioned. Probably someone making an appointment before he heard the familiar voice of Goggles going "Okay!!"

The blue inkling walked over to his station. "Hi Ridey!!"

"...Hey, Gogs. Getting another tat?" Rider asked, trying to keep his cool.

Goggles nodded. "Yeah!!!"

"A'ight anything specific in mind or-"

"Can I get just a simple quote one?"

Rider nodded. "Where do you want it?"

Goggles pulled down the collar of his shirt slightly. "Right here, please!"

"Okay. Just try to keep holding that down so I don't mess up.

-----

And so, tattoo conversations ensued.

The quote Goggles had wanted was a simple Pride one, that said "love is love". It was discreet, but a bit of it could be seen poking out if Goggles ever wore a v-neck.

"So, any plans for tonight?" Rider asked, trying to keep things subtle. Maybe Goggles hadn't read the note yet.

The blue inkling nodded. "Kinda! I had mental plans buuuuut nothing serious."

Rider raised an eyebrow. "Who with?"

"..I m-mean, I still have to ask him.." Goggles' face turned a shade of blue, and he averted his gaze.

"....Can I guess who he is?"

"If ya can!"

He smiled. "Does his name have an R in it?" Rider had a guess it was himself, but it wouldn't hurt to check.

Goggles nodded. "Yeah!"

"Got an accent?"

"Yep!!"

"Is he doing your tattoo?"

"....y-yeah?" Goggles sheepishly smiled. "I'm n-not that discreet, am I?"

Rider chuckled, but on the inside he was screeching. "Honestly? I had no clue myself."

"Really? I've been dropping the most obvious hints!"

"...Like what?" Rider asked, now a bit curious.

"Welllll I've been picking movies you like during movie night, I've made sure to get your drink on coffee runs, Oh! And I offered to cook dinner that one time!" Goggles stated.

"...Damn. I'm just oblivious then." The former dynamo user laughed, before turning off the needle. "There. It's all done." Rider held up a mirror for the blue boy.

Goggles' face lit up. "Whoa! It looks amazing!!! Thanks Riri!"

Rider smiled. "You're welcome. Now, uh, ...did you read my note?"

"..Y-yeah, I did. And, um...I like you too Rider!!" The blue man pressed a small, quick kiss to Rider's cheek.

Rider blushed. "S-so, you'll let me t-take you out?"

Goggles nodded. "Yeah!!!"

"I...thanks, Gogs."

"You're welcome Riri!!!"

----------

aAAAAA RUSHED END

but like. hope yall enjoy!

#Galax Writes #tattoo artist x florist #splatoon #coroika #coroika rider #coroika goggles #goggles x rider

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 4 years

Text

I’m Always Curious Part Twenty Seven

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist Notes: I hope everyone’s having a good week 💕

Sooo..... How are we doing................ Also for this week, new character incoming, the person I was picturing when I wrote Eli Durling is Michael Ealy, in case y’all want someone to picture

Warnings: ….Angst again I know my bad again

Also cursing and mentions of canon-typical violence Summary: I took the hands that were offered to me in introduction and did my damnedest to keep contact.

“Jett Reno, engineering.” Engineering, how was it I always wound up rooming with someone from engineering?

The problem was, with my separation from the Enterprise and the wounds of Somonia still fresh, I found myself desperate for connection where my life had been voided of it.

Jett, Tilly-- I took the hands that were offered to me in introduction and did my damnedest to keep contact.

-- “What brought you to Starfleet?” I could tell by the strained way Jett was asking that she didn’t do small talk for fun the way Tilly did. I’d been on the Hiawatha for a couple of days and we’d hardly talked when we’d been in our quarters together. Neither of us had pushed to fill the silence. But now, Jett was making the effort to… Chat. Maybe it was an attempt to stop my harried pacing in the cramped craft, but I could hardly keep still. My first official mission was set to begin in just a few minutes-- I was piloting a new federation attack fighter with an experimental cloaking device into Klingon airspace for the purposes of picking up subspace chatter. The Hiawatha would be in range as it ferried the first few war-wounded to Starbase 515. As soon as I collected what transmissions I could, I was to return to the ship, and then we’d jump to maximum warp -- barring any complications. “... My dad was an attaché to the Federation when I was growing up. I was brought to a lot of planets when he had custody. And when I was home there were a lot of different languages around me. I was just... curious.” Jett grunted. “What about you?” I asked. “I was always taking shit apart when I was a kid,” Jett leaned away from the control panel, “I had a teacher at school that steered me to circuit analysis. Kicked off from there.” She pulled off her gloves, turning back to me. “Good thing she jumped in when she did, I was electrocuting myself like, once a week. My mom was a doctor, said electrocuting yourself is frowned upon.” I smiled a little bit, “You know, I’ve heard that.” “Apparently everyone but me had.” “When you joined Starfleet...You ever think you’d be doing something like this?” “Helping a language nerd fly into enemy space? Can’t say it was in my top five. Did you think you’d be a pilot?” I shook my head, shoving my hands into my pockets, “No. I always liked flight sims, but steering was the furthest thing from my mind. I had this...Grand idea of going to new planets, building bridges between cultures… Not getting my ass bounced from ship to ship to ship and keeping my head down in the hopes I don’t wind up on Admiral Cornwell’s bad side…” I sighed, shrugging, “But we put our dreams away.” Jett’s brows were furrowed, and I could see the question she wanted to ask, but instead asked: “You got a plan after this?” “After the mission?” “After the war.” I was quiet for a moment, turning to survey the control panel. “... I think I’d rather focus on what I’m gonna do after the mission, not get too far ahead of myself.” Jett pursed her lips, nodding a little bit, looking around. “You oughta get off of this vessel if you don’t wanna join me for its maiden voyage,” I warned. Jett grunted, picking up her toolkit and heading for the ramp. “Try not to get blown up out there,” She said over her shoulder, “I did good work on this ship.” “I’ll do my damnedest,” I called back.

It became routine for Jett and I to chat before missions - occasionally making plans for what we would do once I got back. My missions tended to vacillate between two types: either a transmission intercept, or a mission type that protocol labeled a 22-9-14. 22-9-14 operations consisted of approaching a Klingon craft, deploying a tracking and transmission device, and piloting the hell out of there before any Warbirds could catch wise. It didn’t always work of course -- which was why Eli and I started calling 22-9-14s ‘Tag and Runs’. Lieutenant Commander Eli Durling was a security officer stationed on the Hiawatha for the purpose of handling Communications-based missions. I’d known of him while I was at the Academy. He had been a couple of years ahead of me, and we had a few mutual friends, but as we'd been focused in different course tracks, I'd never had occasion to really interact with him until now. He’d graduated top of his class, and had been stationed on a ship in the Mempa sector until the war had broken out.

Durling reminded me of Pike, a little. When he wasn’t focused on the mission at hand, he was fairly easygoing, lighthearted, and made it a point to follow orders - when those orders were the right course of action in a given situation. Eli wasn’t above changing course mid-mission when something took a bad turn, and he wasn’t afraid to go to bat for me with command for doing the same, either. He covered my back, and I covered his.

“You should see the job Durling did to his phaser canons,” Jett half-yelled, half-grumbled from under the control panel. I eyed where her legs were in view, just beside my pilot’s seat. “Something tells me the job was done by a Klingon Warbird and not by Eli himself.” “Well if he hadn’t gotten spotted by a Warbird, they wouldn’t have chased him, fired at him, and fucked up his phaser canons.” “...You might have a point there.” “I’m wounded, lieutenant,” I heard from just behind me, and I turned to see Eli ducking his head to step onto the craft. “I really hope you mean emotionally," I teased. Eli’s lips twitched into a smile, and I returned it. It was moments like this that his attractiveness was...Really not lost on me. He was handsome, with golden, copper brown skin and gentle blue eyes. His smile, which was turned at me now, was typically kind -- a kind smile that could turn flirtatious or teasing at the drop of a hat. “I’m broken up inside,” Eli reassured me. “Mm, mhm,” I nodded, “What’s going on?” “I’ve got some news.” “Is it that you learned how to fix your phaser canons yourself?” Jett asked, sitting up from under the console. “Sadly, no.” “Sadly? That’s not sadly no, that’s morbidly depressingly no,” Jett grumbled as she took my hand to help her up, “You have any idea how long it’s gonna take me to fix those when you inevitably fuck them up again?” “Well, not long at all. The lieutenant and I are being transferred.” Jett and I let that sink in in silence as the three of us stood in silence. It felt like a punch - but Reno recovered faster than I did. “...Well, godspeed to whoever takes you over, Durling. You’re an engineer’s worst nightmare.”

“I’ll miss you, too, Reno,” Eli chuckled before turning to me, “We’ll be shipping out once you get back, as long as everything is status quo.” “Got it.” “Be careful out there.” “Yessir.”

I watched Eli go before I lowered my eyes, making a careful study of my shoes. I’d been on the Hiawatha for two months now. It was only just starting to feel… Not like the Enterprise, but like a safe space again. “Well,” I said after a moment, “Least you’ll be getting your room back to yourself.” “Looks like it,” Jett agreed, “Don’t get all mushy on me, huh?” I shook my head, pushing back my upset and flattening my expression before meeting her eye: “I was about to ask the same of you.” Jett nodded. “Would’ve been nice if we could’ve seen this through together.” “Would’ve,” I agreed quietly. “But we put our dreams away,” Jett reached out, slapping me on the shoulder before picking up her toolkit, “Don’t get blown up at the last minute. It would be a hell of an anti-climax.”

I scrolled through the contacts on my PADD stilling over Sidhu, Thira for a moment. The little status bubble beside her name read ‘Active’. Despite the fact that Eli and I were stationed together on the USS Pinnacle, and had been for months, I was antsy for news of the Enterprise. I’d reached out to Cornwell for an update on the crew, but I had yet to get an answer from her. I couldn’t blame her. She was entrenched in strategy, but I was desperate for news -- especially after the news of the Hiawatha’s loss had reached us nearly a week after Eli and I had been re-stationed.

I scrolled further down on the contacts list, tapping on the contact name for Tilly, Sylvia. I eyed the ‘Active’ bubble beside her name before tapping on the small video icon. I lifted the PADD up to my face, grinning when Tilly came into view. “Hi!” She greeted, waving. “Hey there. How are you?” I asked, shifting back on my bed. “Oh…” I watched Tilly glance at her surroundings before she answered, “Lorca’s on the warpath.” “The literal warpath or the metaphorical one?” Tilly laughed before sighing, “Both.” I winched, “Sorry, Tills.” “It’s not all awful,” She shrugged, “I have a roommate again, actually. Michael Burnham.” My brows rose. I knew of Michael Burnham - her name was splashed across briefings in relation to the war and the Battle of the Binary Stars. But I’d known of her, first and foremost, through Spock. He’d never spoken of her in honeyed tones, mind, but I knew that he regarded her highly. What was all of this doing to Spock? I couldn’t imagine him having to reason himself through this with limited intel from the Federation at such a distance-- “Hello? Hel-- Hello? Did I cut out? Am I frozen? Are you frozen?” I was jolted from my reverie at Tilly’s waterfall of questions. “I’m sorry,” I smiled, “Got distracted-- How’s the roomie situation?” “Well she frowned about as much as you did when you got on board.” “I warmed up.” “So did she,” Tilly smiled, and I relaxed a little, folding my legs up under myself. “Glad to hear it.” I looked away from my PADD as the doors to my room opened. “Hey, Eli,” I greeted. I saw Tilly’s eyes widen, and I glanced down to see her smoothing her hair down hurriedly. “Eli, you remember Tilly,” I added as he crossed to my bed - I’d introduced them on a previous call. “Course I do,” He smiled, sitting down beside me and giving the screen a wave, “Nice to see you again, Sylvia.” I grinned as a flush as red as her hair well up on Tilly’s cheeks. “Hi,” She answered, matching Eli’s wave. Her gaze was directed away from the screen as an announcement that I couldn’t make out crackled on her end. “Ahh-- I have to go,” She said hurriedly, turning back to the screen, “I’m sorry!” “No, don’t worry about it,” I shook my head, “Be careful.” “You guys, too!” Tilly chirped before hanging up. I looked down at the screen as it winked off. I eyed the contact for Sidhu, Thira, one more time before swiping away from my contacts. Eli leaned back against the wall, shifting further back on my bed. “If you put your shoes on my bed, Durling--” “I know the rules, kid,” He chuckled. I rolled my eyes. He’d taken to calling me that weeks ago, and I couldn't get him to shake it. “What’s got you in here, anyway?” I asked, “New mission?” “Can’t sleep.” I frowned, glancing over at Eli before I turned back to my messages. I had a new message, but where the hell was it? It wasn’t from Cornwell, I’d already checked. “Something wrong?” I pressed. “Just one of those nights. Ever have one?” “Oh, all the--” I froze, damn near dropping my PADD at the sight of the unopened message. It was recent - minutes old. And it was from Una. “...You okay, kid?” Eli’s knee nudged mine, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the words ‘You’re on the Pinnacle?’.

“I-- I um… Yes. I have those nights all the time. Think I’m gonna have another one of those nights tonight.” Eli crowded closer, peering over my shoulder. “Bad news?” “I don’t know yet… Can you gimme a minute?”

It had started with Paledore, apparently. He’d been looking for something I’d sent him a while ago, some verb conjugation that I'd worked on, and he’d noticed that my status was active. He’d figured that it had to be a fluke, and he’d gone about his business. But it had happened again and again, and he’d brought it up to Thaleh, who had brought it up to Spock. Spock had done some digging, located me in Starfleet's medical database at the Academy, and then in the ship’s records for the Pinnacle. He had brought that information to Una. Una, who was now staring at me through a video feed. Her face was carefully blank. I’d seen that look before -- I knew that she was making a concentrated effort to not give anything away. Una could be hard to read in the first place, but I may as well have been looking at a statue. My heart was thudding low in my chest, beating out a panicked, jittery tattoo that usually only accompanied the running of a 22-9-14 and a Klingon Warbird on my tail. “...So,” I started, “How’s the Pergamum?” “You’re alive.” I gave a small nod. “Yeah, they’re not trucking a corpse around on the Pinnacle for the sake of filling the new communications specialist minimum.” “You’ve been alive this entire time and you’re making jokes?” Una seethed. It chilled me through the screen and I lowered my eyes, swallowing thickly. “I know you’re upset--” “Upset?” She repeated with a scorning little laugh, “I have spent the last year watching the repercussions that your loss has had on this crew, on Pike-- and you’re making jokes.” Guilt spun through me and wobbled like a top. “Can I explain?” “I wish you would.”

I took a deep breath, steadying my nerves before I told Una what had happened - all I could remember. Soivo, Somonia, Cornwell, my time on the Discovery and the Hiawatha. Una’s face remained unmoved throughout. My only indication that the screen hadn’t frozen was Una’s occasional shift in her seat. Once I’d finished my explanation, Una gave a small nod. “Well… That certainly lines up with the timeline that Spock put together.” I couldn’t help but smile a little at that, even as I ached at the mention. “Of course he put a timeline together,” I muttered, scrubbing my hand over my eyes. I sighed, quiet for a few moments. “How are you all?” I asked, “Will you tell me that?” “You don’t deserve that answer.” I clenched my jaw, hot tears prickling at my eyes as I felt my entire being want to fold in on itself. “Una, please understand--” The video feed cut, the message on the screen indicating that the call had been terminated from Una’s side. My fingers curled around the device, my chest racking with sobs as I curled forward.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I heard behind me, “What did that punching bag say to you?” I raised my hands to stop the bag from swinging back and hitting me before I turned back to see Eli. After Una’s abrupt end to our call, I had cried until I couldn’t anymore - until my sobs had been dry and my breathing had been hiccups. And then, when the hurt had still ebbed through me, when I saw that there were no transmissions waiting for translation or missions for me to run, I went to work the rest of my hurt out on a punching bag. “I’m not in the mood, Durling,” I cautioned quietly. My voice was hoarse from its rough use earlier, and my body and nerves were rung raw from the war, from losing Jett -- from my call with Una, and from the news that had hard followed - the Discovery had been destroyed. My last call with Tilly had been our last call. Eli took a couple of cautious steps closer to me, looking me over. “I can see that. Came to offer my assistance.” I arched a brow. “Assistance?” I repeated, “The bag over here offered the same thing and look where it’s wound up.” Eli smiled a little. “You’re gonna run yourself ragged like this,” he warned. I shook my head a bit, biting the inside of my cheek to staunch a fresh wave of tears. “I already have, Eli, I can’t--” I took in a deep, shuddering breath, “I can’t rest my head right now. That’s just a fact.” “Neither can I. Maybe we can help each other out with that.” “I’m not gonna ask you to help me.” “Why not?” “You see the mood I’m in?” I nodded toward the bag, “At least one of us needs to be in a condition to fly.” “I think I can handle you.” I arched a brow. “Eli,” I warned softly. He took a step closer, warm blue eyes and kind smile pointed at me with all softness and sincerity. “Kid,” he murmured, “You don’t have to worry about being gentle with me.” Tag list: @angels-pie ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo ; @how-am-i-serpose-to-know ; @onlyhereforthefandomandgiggles ; @inmyowncorner ; @tardis-23 ; @2manyfandoms-solittletime ; @paintballkid711 ; @katrynec ; @hypnobananaangelfish

#I'm Always Curious #captain pike x reader #Captain Pike/Reader #Captain Pike Imagine #Captain Pike x You #Captain Pike/You #christopher pike x reader #christopher pike/reader #Christopher Pike x You #christopher pike imagine #Christopher Pike/You

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