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roughcass · 1 year ago

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Part 2 of https://www.tumblr.com/ssacassie/747166593478426624/wrio-x-femreader-kinda-angst-blood-swearing @sangoqueenkoko

not proof read or anything i need sleep enjoy

Wriothesley x fem!reader

The infirmary laid eerily still. Evidence of life was very little, other than the occasional sound of paper being turned. Heavy clanks on the lithium was heard ascending towards where Sigiewinnie sat, next to you. "How's she lookin'?" The dukes voice broke the silence. "Your grace, the chances aren't in our favor." All he was able to do was nod, exit the room and repeat this process.

The previous few days was all the same routine. He'd walk around for hours pondering on what he could of done different to have prevented this. Every step he took was a constant reminder of how surreal the last week has been. After a few hours he'd need to use the bathroom, or Sigewinnie would be able to convince him to sleep - all though that never lasted longer than three hour intervals. He's barely left your side. "Okay, you need to go to the surface," the nurses voice echoed down the corridor as she followed suit. Confusion arose in the man, why would he? You're down here. He's not leaving. "You're growing sickly pal and honestly I couldn't accurately tell you when you last saw the sun." "But-" "Get her flowers and come straight back if you need to." Wriothesley was still about to protest before Sigewinnie slammed the door giving him no alternative. "Doctors orders! It'd be unlocked once you catch some fresh vitamin d!"

With a simple phone call, it so happened Wriothesley ran into Neuvillite on pure coincidence. As soon as Neuvillite got a call from Sigewinnie, the worst was expected. To hear you were still fighting but he needed to distract his friend, he was waiting by the fleur shops. "Wriothesley," the dragon alerts his friend of his presence. After Wrio picks out the perfect flowers for you the silver haired man starts digging.

"When was the last time you slept?" 'Cause you look like you're the one dying.' "A few hours ago." "No, actually slept. Fulls nights rest?" A pause filled the air, whether it was from him debating the truth or just purely thinking he possessed the answer. "Days ago." At this Wrio felt him stop moving, staring at him.

"We all feel horrible for what happened to her," 'To you',

"But the truth is there's nothing we can do now other than let Sigewinnie do her job, and for everyone to hope." Icy blue eyes were finally able to meet, a pathetic sigh escaping Wriothesley. He knew he was being irrational and his friend was right. Before he could muster a response, "Go back to her. Make yourself comfortable and sleep. She'll be there when you rise, I promise you." And with that, Wriothesley watched him walk away. Alone, there he stood holding the flowers that mounted to know more than a bouquet of clumsy words and feelings.

The rest of the walk was short before he was able to open the door, true to her promise the door slid open with ease. A part of him hoped he'd see you awake, laughing. Or even better yet, awake from this nightmare with you holding him saying it was all just a bad dream. But neither of those were the cards. Nothing changed other than the nurses location. 'When will this paradox end.' he scoffed.

The flowers were now placed in a vase next to you, true to his word Wriothesley made a bed right on the ground next to you and slept.

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

Sun shone in on the room evidence of a new day. The duke groaned getting up, stretching realizing how sore his body was from sleeping on the floor. In a weird way he believed it was worth it, he felt more energized. And for a while, even if it was only a few minutes in his dream; everything was okay again.

However once again his routine of reputation started.

as the day grew later a new guest snuck in the infirmary "How long has he been like this?" Navia asked, "Hours. A day." she quickly nodded before walking towards the duke.

"Wrio man. This? This isn't doing anything for anyone other than hurting yourself. Why are you torturing yourself more? I understand what you're feeling, we all are sorry for what happened to her." Theres those words again. 'We all feel bad' 'We're sorry.' How can anyone else understand what he feels? He's the reason you're dying. He should of looked sooner at you. He should of taken that side. He should of finished quicker to help you. He should of known an abush was going to happen. He shouldn't of even let you get out of bed that day. You're going to die and its all because of your sincerely,

A harsh snap drags him out of his thoughts. Resting her hand back at her side she continued. "Listen man you just gotta' hang in there for all of us and most importantly her." "I kn-" He's cut off by Sigewinnie rushing down to their spot. With his throat getting dry he feels his heart sink to his feet. What happened to you?

"Your grace, she requested to see you." His eyes lit up and sprinted to your room, swinging open the door hastily. "Hi." He froze staring at you. You're alive. His eyes search your face all over, not being able to say anything. What felt like forever but was realistically thirty seconds, "Are you just going to stand there or come and give me a hug? Sigewinnie said it wouldn't affect any of my stitches."

Needing no further push he was at your side in seconds holding you close to his chest. Your head laid on his heartbeat; being able to hear it. Muscular arms wrapped tightly around you, his head was placed on yours. After a few more seconds you can feel a tear slide down onto your shoulder. "I'm so glad-" he couldn't find the strength to finish that but both of you knew what the next words were. 'That you're not dead.'

"Sigewinnie told me how lucky I am," "I'm the luckiest baby. I don't know what I would of done without you, I'm so happy you woke up love." subconsciously his grip on you grew tighter. He pulled back, tears glossy as he held you. Smiling. It was the first time a smile grew on his face in days, he was truly a goner without you.

"I love you so much. I never want another moment to go to waste between us, ever again. I don't know what I woulda' done without you, princess. I'm so sorry I wasn't able to protect you better." "You didn't know, neither of us did. Okay? You can't beat yourself up about it. All that matters is that I'm going to recover, because its not our time to part yet. I love you too, Wrio."

The rest of the night he spent glued to your side.

As days ticked down, you were cleared to go home under the pretense you kept a low profile. Which obviously wasn't a problem as the duke was your right hand man, not allowing you to do anything alone. Out of curiosity and fear.

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

"Babe you almost ready?" Wriothesley asked, fixing his tie. In honor of your life he felt the two of you needed to go out to dinner and celebrate, he wanted nothing more than to spoil his precious girl.

"Mhm! One second," you saying while looking at yourself one last time in the mirror before deciding you loved how you looked for tonight. The rest of the date went well, Including Wrio doing everything for you. "You look so fucking gorgeous darling." he showered you in compliments. And honestly? Spoil you he did.

"Was renting the whole roof top really necessary?" and it was as if that sentence triggered something inside him. He took a deep inhale getting nervous before taking a long sip of his champagne.

"Yes."

Before any questions were asked, he was holding your hand kneeling in-front of you with the most gorgeous ring you've seen.

"Y/n. I'm so badly in love with you. I knew I loved you the moment I met you; and from then it only grows every day. I've never been more sure about something in my life before. You. And losing that, was the worst week of my life. You bring me so much happiness I could never love another soul as much as I love yours, princess. I never want another day to pass without you knowing you're the love of my life, and the only person I want to grow old with. Will you, Y/n L/n. Marry me?"

and just like that, in the same way he did just seconds ago before turning both of your lives forever - "Yes."

The biggest smirk sat on the mans face as he stood up to kiss you, maybe the worst week of his life wasn't that bad at all.

#genshin impact #genshin x you #wrio x reader #wriothesely x reader #wriothesley #genshin characters #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin fluff

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sirladywrites · 1 year ago

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"Die ", she pleaded in her head as her eyes filled with tears.

From an outside perceptive, Anna Elizabeth Davison was the perfect mournful wife.

"Die," she begged in her head, watching her sick husband lay their looking minutes from death.

She knew not to get her hopes up.

"Please, let me be rid of you", she felt horrible as she silently begged.

In truth, he was not a awful man.

He let her buy as many cloths and jewels as he wanted.

More so that he might look like the perfect proving man any man would want.

He had been by forty years, but at least the man had lived a life in the eyes of soceity.

Anna never had a say in her marriage to the man.

She was born, bred, and taunt to be his wife.

The minute she had bled, her parents had set the day for her to be married to Lord Davis.

She had grown up knowing exactly everything about the man in front her yet the day they were married he was nothing but a stranger she had seen here and there.

Learning to be someone wife was not the same as being their wife after all.

She often felt like a sick nurse maid tied to her patient day and night.

Though she liked him better sick than energized and ready to lay with her.

"Die", she pleaded looking at the lines of face that had deepened with time.

She was sure she would go to hell, but she could not be sure she wasn't already in it.

His chest heaved in his sleep heavily.

It was getting harder each day for him to breathe.

She felt as if it was a sigh from God, taunting her of her freedom.

Suddenly his breath stopped and she quickly checked his pulse as the nurses had instructed her to do.

She should scream and call for help.

She waited a minute before she started wailling madly.

"SOMEONE HURRY, PLEASE" , she begged.

She didn't need to act because the guilt that rested on her soul for wishing him ill truly wanted him a woken.

By the time the doctor arrived an hour later it was only to confirm he had died.

She wore black to his funeral, with a golden locket he had given her on her sixteenth birthday.

It was also their three year anniversary present.

She didn't quite like gold as much as sliver.

He hadn't known though, and she was happy she had anything at all.

When she came back to the house after the funeral and back to her bed chambers.

She found her best friend Vanessa waiting for her in a red dressing gown.

" I thought I'd comfort you for your loss", she smirked.

She was dazzling with her dark red plump lips and smoke ear shadow.

She truly was a vision in her red robe.

Vanessa had been Anna best friend since she was thirteen.

She had done her hair and make up the day she was to be married and even made a flower crown of flowers she found in the garden.

She was possibly the most beautiful women Anna had ever seen.

Anna could never stop staring at her dark brown hair that fell down to her hips or her plump lips or dark brown eyes.

She had hips, unlike Anna.

She never wanted Vanessa near her husband and yet she could never have the heart to kick Vanessa out of her life.

"Why do you wear my red robe to bed?", I glared down to the open robe revealing nothing under neath.

She smiled like a coyly in a way that made my face flush and head feel dizzy.

"I was hoping you'd take it off me", she had a low voice that would of made any man buckle.

"My husband dead of you were hoping to sleep with him",I snapped cutly.

She looked taken aback which Anna thought was asurd.

"Your husband being dead is exactly why I am here", she said firmly standing up from the bed with a scroll on her face.

she walked right up to the my face.

She was only a inch taller than me so I only had to tilt my head up very slightly to meet her gaze.

I felt my face burn as I remembered the day she had kissed me at fifth teen and how we had plan to do more than kiss before one of the older maids caught us and told my husband of the manner.

I still had the scars of his whip lashes on my back for my betrayal of him.

"Why?" , I questioned. She was beautiful enough to kiss any man of any fortune or title.

Why would she want to kiss a dead man newly widowed wife.

" you know why", she whispered to me as we touched noses together.

My heart leaped into my throat.

How could someone as beautiful as a oil painting fall for a mousy looking girl as myself.

She was a goddesses a divine right that for some reason acolcording to accident text that men were only suppose to see.

I often thought that part in religion was written by men who had never asked real honest wives what beauty is.

If a man asks, "You want beauty is?"You can describe the nearest flower but if someone were to ask me what beauty in humanity looked like, it would be Vaneessa gentle hands and playful smiles.

She hand the type of finger you wanted to watch play along a grand piano.

She cupped my face gentle in her hands.

"Let us run away together ", she begged.

"To were?",I could not stop the tears that threatened to spill from my face anymore than I could stop the rythrm of my heart she played like a song.

"To a cursed place were the only fairytale their is the one we create", she whispered stepping into my space closer.

"Who would dare to live in a cursed places to make a happy ending?" , I wanted more than anything to not think of want she meant and just say yes but the logic in my brain was as stubbing as my heart.

"Any place without you is my only curse", she whispered breathily in a way that had me nearly drop to my knees.

"Their are fare worse fates than being with out me ", I laughed unable to hide the humor I found in her idea of happiness.

" I would rather spend a lifetime looking for you at every ball that be stuck somewhere were I may not see you",she grabbed by the waist with her right hand while still cupping my face with the left.

She kissed me til I felt dizzy.

I knew than that whatever curse she promised to take us to I would gladly follower my evil enchanting witch anywhere.

..............

"We have arrived ", She called and stared at the dump grey town from up the hill.

"Welcome to Modrics ", I read from the sign.

To Read more short stories

Here's a link.

#LGBTQ #WlW #Shorthorrorstories

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boyakishantriage · 2 years ago

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"that's it?" Stated the woman, hardly paying attention as she fiddled with the engine. They'd been stuck on this planet for a while now, the ship's engine repurposed into a motor vehicle the human had somehow rigged up, "Gotta spit the excess out somewhere, and I don't wanna run out of flares so... Up it goes!"

"Yeah. Just. How do humans do 160 kilometres?"

"... We run?"

" I mean obviously. But how."

"By running. A lot." She said it obviously, like there wasn't any secret to it.

"..."

"Do you think all humans can just do a century run?"

"... Maybe?"

"short answer. Uh. No. Most humans who start can barely do a century, but the thing is. We just kinda bully the people into doing it."

"excuse me?"

"hey. If you had a friend who could do something, but needs a push to do it. You'd bully them too."

"but. Bullying-"

"listen. We can run for stupid long times because we were prey. Predators used to kill us, so we ran faster."

"... That's not. But-"

"Again. I could run to the goddamn city myself in. I dunno. A week? It's only a couple hundred kilometres."

"a week? It's 56- 2000 kilometres for Krag sake!"

"no. You're right. Five days."

"... Are you insane?"

"hey. It's only you and me, while you cried like a baby I figured out how to Jerry rig this vehicles. And then you freaked out, broke your leg and I guessed my way into splinting your leg and now you can't even limp your way to the city."

Before he could mutter a reply, she'd already readied her bow into the bush. She'd done this twice before, once for some predator she slaughtered then roasted and another, distracting a predator, jumping onto the vehicle as it floated its way over a ravine.

Jake cut down the leaves, I almost breathed a sigh of relief. "Ey! Good to see ya mate!"

"Lina? What the fuck are you on?"

"I jerry rigged the shuttle into a vehicle!"

"THAT'S GENIUS. Wait. Why didn't I do that?"

"probably because you're Mr leg day and I'm the genius engineer!"

The other aliens cautiously stepped onto the ship. Flooring been welded on, leaving the engine protected in a box, with the wings sticking on the front to counteract the weight of the engine.

"Ok so. I found a bunch of spare parts, so-"

She showed off the welding tool she'd somehow made of a plasma cutter, air conditioning parts, pieces of the heating unit, all of which focused the energy from the engine to the laser cutter end.

"but you can't control the power."

"yeah. So I had to spot weld most of it, rework the levitating things and then do short bursts across the damn ship."

"so. The others..."

"yeah, so three died upon impact. Door broke upon landing, before it fell over leaving that levitator on half output."

"... But what about-"

"I was getting to that. Then the others basically ran into the claws of an angry puma after finding my stash of guns. On one hand. Why would you charge a predator with a weapon you don't know how to fire. On the other hand. I'm left with a janitor who managed to broke both of his legs upon impact."

The man almost immediately slapped the woman.

"Jesus Christ Wagstaff-"

"hey. You know I'm one cold bitch."

"Alright. Both of you stop talking. How do we stop this thing?"

"why?"

"because most of the crew is behind us."

"oh. Uhhh. Pull that lever."

The emergency door's handle lay welded to the floor, ignoring the gaping holes lining the middle of the capsule, most of the vehicle was shaded, with large pillars from the ship's wreckage doubling as support all welded onto the floor.

The ship came to a close, what few of the crew weren't left behind managed to get on.

"How did you think not to stop this ship."

"Do I need to remind you that I have serious ADHD?"

The two began bickering, as the captain sighed.

"right. So, four humans are missing and from your bickering this group is about 17 people yes?"

"AYO WHAT THE FUCK??"

It turned out that all three humans had survived, the rest of the groups weren't found along the way and I didn't want to make more vehicles. So...

The vehicle moved forward, energy spitting into the air in a massive burst of lighting, the spare walling placed precariously as a bunch of sticks held the metal circle up. (think da Vinci bridge, but with a lot more sticks)

Turns out most of the ship was ok. And not only that, but the cargo was discovered in the jungle. And they'd found the drag marks. The graves I'd dug and also the piece of chandeliered metal I'd tied to the ship that it dragged along making a stupid obvious path if the path of felled trees weren't enough of an indication of where the vehicle went.

Speaking of trees, Jake was half angry at me for making a vehicle that smashed trees to move forward. I pointed out we were in a jungle and also that I didn't really think when I do these things. And he resigned himself to the fact that for having three doctorates, I am remarkably stupid.

This is one of my old favorites. I cleaned and edited it for reposting.

Downtime on the K’laxi Starbase, two humans wheel their exercise bikes out into the common area and start a ride. Their bikes have large front wheels that hum and whirr as they pedal and they both get into the rhythm of motion, enjoying the feeling of their muscles being used.

After a few moments some K'laxi stop and watch them as they work out. Kelly and Evan don't seem to notice.

After half an hour or so of pedaling Evan finally spoke “You know what I’m sick of?”

Kelly looked up from her bike. “The whole Deathworlder thing?”

“Yes! I don’t think it’s fair that everyone says Earth is a Deathworld. It implies that we’re some kind of strange being. It’s othering!” Evan was gesturing with his water bottle as he spoke.

Kelly leaned up off the handlebars, but kept pedaling. She started counting things on her fingers. “There’s plenty of other places that have storms, plenty of other races that are strong, plenty of other places like Earth”

“Exactly! It’s trying to make us out to be a stereotype and then they don’t have to learn about us as individuals.” As he got more and more animated, drops of water from Evan's water bottle started flying around. Kelly blinked when drops hit her face.

As they talked, the crowd grew. Deep in concentration on their ride, they didn't notice the attention that they have garnered.

Evan and Kelly pedaled in silence for a while longer until Pen'mun couldn't stand it any longer. He looked up from his pad. “You realize you’re having this conversation, on a K’laxi Starbase while pedaling your excise bicycles at -" He looked at a readout on the bike "-180 watts for at least one standard hour now?”

Even looked surprised. “We’re doing a century!”

"That's when you ride continuously for 160km or so." Kelly sounded matter of fact as she reached down and took a sip from her own water bottle.

Pen'mun's pad clattered to the floor. His ears flicked down in surprised frustration. “You’re not even breathing heavy!”

Kelly nodded. “He’s right Evan. Time to step it up.”

As Evan pedaled harder, he looked up and finally noticed the crowd that had gathered. Without saying anything he poked Kelly with a finger and she looked up and did a double take. There were maybe 10 or 12 people watching the two humans pedal without going anywhere. Some in the back were having quiet wagers about how long they could go on.

"What are you all doing here?" Kelly sounded suspicious as she asked.

"Um.. just watching you ride your bikes?" A young K'laxi in the front offered and took a nervous step back.

"I can see that, but why?"

"You're riding so much and you aren't even tired!" Another in the back added.

An older K'laxi on the side of the crowd joined in. "Yeah! How long can you go? I've got 30 credits with Rem'itan that says you can't go the full 160 without stopping."

Pen'mum frowned and looked like he was having a conversation with his translator. “Translator says a century is 100, but you’re doing 160km?”

Evan sighed. “160km is 100 miles. That’s the century”

"What's a mile?" A K'laxi child from the crowd interrupted.

"Old measurement. We don't use it anymore." Kelly finally started to sound like she was having difficultly speaking while she was exerting herself.

Pen found it in himself to actually be amazed in addition to being frustrated. "You're pedaling the equivalent of one hundred sixty kilometers In one session?”

“Yeah” Kelly said between breaths “doesn’t count if you stop between.”

Evan used his nearly empty water bottle to point at Pen'mum. "You're making it sound weird Pen, it's not weird."

At that, a few more K’laxi walked up to watch. People started cheering them on, and that seemed to spur Kelly and Even to go even faster.

Pen'mum opened his mouth and shut it again. His ears fluttered in frustration and his tail poofed out in irritation. He picked up his pad from the ground and went back to his book. eyes back to his book. “Deathworlders” he muttered.

#tag #Washer #humans are space orcs

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beautifulbows924 · 3 years ago

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Tension

Marc Spector x Reader (Steven Grant x Reader)

Masterlist

A/N: This gif has practically nothing to do with the fic, but Marc’s smirk is just too damn good. Here’s something to hold you over until the next part of Double the Trouble comes out. I know most people think Marc is a Dom, but I get major switch vibes from him- definitely one of the reasons I wrote this. Ah, self indulgence. I’m already thinking about writing a sequel, the exact opposite idea- Marc doing the same for you. I don’t write smut too often, but I really like how this turned out. As always, I hope you enjoy. Feel free to leave any feedback you have in the comments and if you like my work consider leaving a tip! Thanks:)

Word Count: 1.1K+

Warnings: Tiny bit of angst in the beginning, NO spoilers, Suggestive themes throughout, Smut underneath the cut, Oral sex (afab reader, but no pronouns are used), Steven is only referenced, All three are apart of an established relationship, Switch!Marc (sub), Switch!Reader (soft Dom).

Summary: Marc isn’t taking care of himself or Steven again, so you take matters into your own hands.

“You have to rest”, you insist firmly, “I’m worried about him Marc- I’m worried about you”.

It’s clear he’s wearing both of them thin, his body begging him for rest. There had been several days between now and the last time he had slept.

“I’m fine”, he huffs, not wanting to admit that you’re right. He can feel the effects the lack of sleep is having on both of them.

You can tell he’s being stubborn for no reason. You can clearly see him swaying on his feet, he’s exhausted.

He wants to stop, to let go, but he doesn’t remember how.

Sighing heavily, he brings his hand up to caress your face. It’s gentle, tender, like you’re made of the finest glass and he’ll break you if he’s too rough.

“I’m not sure I know how anymore”, he tells you, his tone different this time. Every instinct he has is telling him that he shouldn’t be doing this, that he can’t be vulnerable with you. He has to guard himself, keep everything and everyone good in his life at arms length.

It’s strange seeing him like this. He’s always so sure of himself. But now, he’s looking at you like he doesn't know where to go from here, like he needs you to tell him what to do.

He’s been taking orders for so long it’s hard to exist without them.

“Come with me Marc, please”, you plead softly. You’re not entirely sure how to give him what he needs, but you’re trying.

His mouth opens to argue, but he shuts it when he sees the pointed look you’re giving him. You grab for his hand, gripping it harder than he expected you to. The action catches him off guard and he’s not able to think or protest before you’re pulling him into bed with you.

It shocks him, how desperate he is for you to continue, to tell him what he needs to do, what he has to do.

His head leans against your chest, arms wrapping around your waist.

You’ve been in this position many times, but this time it’s different. You’re the one controlling the situation, allowing him to touch you.

He can feel his heart beating in his ears, he needs you to tell him to do something- anything.

The waiting is maddening, he’s never been a very patient man.

He can tell that you want something from him, want him to beg you to let him touch you how he wants too.

He understands why you enjoy this now. He’s practically drunk on it all. The anticipation of it, not knowing what’s going to happen next.

He’s used to being the one in control, especially in the bedroom.

It’s a freeing feeling, giving yourself entirely to another person. It shows that you trust them completely. Enough to give them control over your body, your mind, your pleasure.

You want him to trust you, to tell you what he needs. You can see that he’s becoming impatient, needy even. It’s a stark contrast to how he usually is with you- intimidating, demanding.

“Please”, he murmurs, it’s so soft that you can barely hear it. He needs you, needs to spend every last ounce of energy he has making you come undone all over his pretty face.

You place your fingers under his chin guiding him to look at you.

His body is hovering over you now, but you’re still commanding him with your eyes, daring him to do something out of line.

The thought of you punishing him sends a shiver up his spine. He wonders what exactly you’d do to him now if he tried to control you. If he pinned you down and took what he wanted from you.

You arch an eyebrow at him, practically able to see the thoughts in his head as they pass through it. Your presence has always been so calming, grounding, but now there’s an air of authority surrounding you.

He can’t get enough of it.

The tension in the room has grown heavy, it’s thick with want. You’re staring at each other, playing the waiting game.

“You know what to do”, you tell him, your eyes flickering between his and the lower half of your body.

He pounces on you, your instruction all he needed to get started. He lifts your shirt trailing kisses down your stomach, using his hands to get your clothes off of you.

You lift your hips and he throws your pants somewhere to the side, your underwear following soon after.

“Don’t tease”, you chastise him as he sucks love bites onto the skin of your parted thighs.

You’re driving him crazy. Every little noise and sound you make urging him further into you, his thoughts filled only with ways to make you cum.

His fingers dig into your soft flesh as he devours you. You can feel his tongue dipping inside of you, reaching places you never knew it could. The pleasure is overwhelming your senses, your back arching up from the mattress. One of his hands moves to press against your stomach. It’s holding you down, keeping you in place for him.

The tip of his tongue runs against your clit before sucking on it gently. He repeats the motion several times, your wanton moans of pleasure signaling that you like when he does that.

His actions have your fingers carding through his hair, tugging on it harshly.

Your legs shake around him and your grip is causing him to moan into you.

Sensations are traveling all throughout your body, it feels like all your nerves are on fire with pleasure. His tongue is still moving inside of you, the tip of his nose rubbing against your clit. Your hips are bucking up into his face. You can feel yourself becoming more undone by the second, chasing your high.

Your moans urge him to keep going, and he does, eating you like a starved man on thanksgiving.

You try to warn him, tell him that you’re close, but as soon as his lips come back up to wrap around your clit- you’re done for. Your hips stutter in their movements, your thighs forcing his head to stay in place. A white heat consumes you, becomes all that you can feel. You don’t even notice that you’re yelling his name.

He lazily laps up at your juices, waiting for you to come down from your high.

And when you’ve finally caught your breath, you’re reaching for him bringing him into your arms, whispering soft praises into his skin.

He’s so tired now, his eyes closed. He needed this.

He needed you to give him another mission to complete.

He needed to give you all of him.

You’re watching him, a small smile on your face as he’s breathing in and out, finally asleep.

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miraculouscontent · 4 years ago

Note

I know that you said that it was an one shot, but I really love the idea of marinette stay in Paris with Luka and kagami and avoid all the NY drama! If you can, can you share more of it? Even if just a few little ideas it would be great! (I love your ideas!)

(the one-shot this anon is referring to)

Aw, thank you so much!

And sure, after some thought, I did really want to write a little more with them!

—————

While throwing away their now juice-less cups, Marinette made the realization of how different things seemed with Luka and Kagami. She had already experienced hanging out with both of them separately, but she'd never imagined having both of them with her at once. It wasn't as if she'd always dismissed or despised the idea, but the only time they'd interacted as a group had been with Adrien around, which had probably soured the whole thing and thus involuntarily caused her to never think about it.

With her friends, everything was typically high-energy. Juleka and Mylene weren't very involved in creating such an atmosphere, but Marinette herself, Rose, Alya, and kept things energized. It wasn't a bad thing in general, but it made Marinette wonder if maybe surrounding herself with people who only encouraged her excitable habits wasn't a good thing.

Meanwhile, Luka and Kagami were completely different, both from her and her friends. Neither were particularly loud - though both could be when they wanted to - and they weren't really the kind to tease or mess with her either. Luka wasn't quiet in the way Juleka was, just seeming to absorb the world around him, whereas Kagami only spoke when she felt that there was something of value to say. Marinette had worried briefly that she might've been too different from the both of them, or that she'd overwhelm them due to speaking up the most, but instead, there was a sense of balance. Luka smiled or chuckled reassuringly whenever she caught herself rambling, whereas Kagami would cut in with her own views that were often direct but nevertheless good in their intentions. Perhaps her personality rubbed off on them in a way she couldn't fully understand?

Still, it was nice.

As the three were deciding what to do next, Marinette's phone suddenly went off. Marinette looked at her purse and pulled out her phone, half-expecting a text from one of her classmates about her missing the bus, but it was actually a notification about where Andre the ice cream man was.

Kagami glanced over after noticing the look on Marinette's face. "You want to get ice cream?"

Marinette frowned, Kagami's voice reminding her of the day the two of them had gone for ice cream with Adrien. She still remembered talking to Andre, hoping beyond hope that maybe the man wouldn't make them pick between the three different flavors. His words still stung a little, not because of Adrien, but because of what the words meant.

"Too many flavors mixed together may throw off the delicate balance."

It implied that one of them would always be the third wheel if they were together, no matter what, and it was a hollow feeling that she'd only recently started to accept.

"Marinette?"

Feeling a comforting hand on her shoulder, she looked over and noted Luka offering her a concerned expression. It grounded her, serving as a reminders that things were different now and that Adrien wasn't there which, in a strange way, brought her an immense sense of comfort.

"I'm fine," she assured. Turning her attention back to her phone, she deleted the notification and then made sure that she wouldn't be getting another one. "Ice cream sounds good, if you want it too, but... I think I've got a better idea than Andre's."

Luka and Kagami exchanged curious glances.

—————

"Here's to Neapolitan ice cream!" Marinette declared dramatically, raising her spoon up with flair before shoving it and the ice cream on it right into her mouth.

Luka snorted in amusement while Kagami gave an acknowledging nod, probably remembering the exact phrase from Andre that Marinette had recalled earlier.

They'd picked up the carton of ice cream on the way to Marinette's place, with Marinette insisting on paying in order to spoil them, and while they seemed confused on the specifics of her insistence, they gave in soon enough. Marinette could understand why she'd be the expected person to be comforted, but giving to others made her happy on its own and she felt they deserved it. After all, Luka had tried his hardest to catch up to the bus and Kagami was still dealing with Adrien wanting to leave for New York despite her being in Paris.

They'd ultimately decided on splitting the entire carton between the three of them, with each of them getting a majority of the one of the flavors and then the rest of that flavor going to the other two. Marinette had gone with chocolate, Kagami had gone with vanilla, and Luka had gone with strawberry. It might've seemed like a weird choice to go with since they'd just had orange juice, but it hadn't been much and it wasn't exactly a "treat."

Marinette may have considered suggesting ice skating instead if her first thought of it wasn't her slipping and bringing Luka and Kagami down to the ice with her. Ice cream was the safer alternative to "cold fun."

"Luka," she called thoughtfully, taking another bite before asking, "you're not feeling sore or anything, are you?"

He met her gaze, smiling at the concern but waving his hand dismissively. "I'm alright, Marinette. I'm used to biking around for hours because of my job, so it wasn't a big deal."

Kagami halted, spoon halfway in her mouth while her brows rose noticeably. She finished the scoop, then turned to look at Luka. "You have a job?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I deliver pizza." He grinned, clearly amused by her reaction. "Are you surprised?"

Kagami's expression didn't shift, but Marinette had known her long enough to see that she was embarrassed. "Oh, no. It's... I don't have one."

"There's nothing wrong with that." Luka shrugged. "I just have the time to do it."

"Mm." Kagami looked back at her ice cream, poking at the surface with her spoon. "I suppose it would be too difficult with my fencing lessons."

Marinette giggled sheepishly, happy to join in on the conversation. "I probably wouldn't be able to either. There's all my fashion work with my website, and then there's the unexpected babysitting, the bakery, and I'm also the class representative." She hurriedly added an, "I know it doesn't sound like much, but I'm bad at planning," when she felt that it seemed like such little things. She was Ladybug and the new guardian too, of course, but she couldn't be blurting that out, so she could only hope that it didn't seem like she was whining over nothing.

She averted her gaze, scooping up a self-conscious bite of her ice cream and shoving it into her mouth. She was partway through savoring it when she realized that neither Luka nor Kagami had responded to her. Daring a look back, she saw them staring at her with varying gazes.

Kagami seemed stunned, commenting, "That is... well, much, actually," referring to what Marinette had just tried to brush off.

Was it? Marinette had never really thought about it. In fact, she distinctly remembered back in the day where people might've thought she was just scatterbrained and didn't really do anything. Back when she was hesitant to be class representative and claimed that she was busy, Alya had asked her with a hint of snark what she was busy with, like she expected her to have a free schedule.

Even beyond her role of Ladybug at the time, she still had random babysitting to do and still frequently worked on her fashion projects. Thinking back, it stung just a little.

As Marinette glanced at Luka, she at first felt that the amount of sympathy he was directing at her was excessive, but then she remembered how she had cried in front of him to the point where he'd dropped his bike and guitar in order to comfort her. She blushed, both in shame and from the memory of him holding her so closely.

"Ah—well—it's okay!" she said hurriedly, "Anyway, forget about me! This day is about... um, this ice cream, and ice cream doesn't have problems that you should worry about!"

She nearly gave herself brainfreeze from how quickly she scooped up and ate the next bite, but figured it'd be worth it if they dropped the subject.

It wasn't worth it.

"You should be more careful," Kagami commented critically, an edge to her voice that Marinette knew wasn't meant to be anger at her. "You're my friend, so don't overwork yourself."

Marinette grinned nervously, still trying to lighten the mood. "A-are you saying it'd be alright to overwork myself if I wasn't your friend?"

Kagami's gaze didn't waver, and Marinette slowly tried to sink into her seat.

Luka set his spoon down on the bowl, then chimed in, "I don't know anything about fashion, Marinette, but if you ever need any help with anything—"

Kagami clicked her own spoon against her bowl to interrupt him, as if she felt personally slighted that he'd gotten to say it first. "We're here for you."

Luka nodded to confirm.

"Oh." Marinette blushed deeper, touched by the gesture from both of them. She thought about trying to reassure them again, but their gazes were firm and showed no room for argument, so she settled for a soft, "Thanks."

They resumed eating their ice cream from there, the topic officially concluded. Though the atmosphere felt noticeably different, Marinette was surprised to realize that it wasn't exactly in a bad way. She feared that she'd ruined the mood, but instead felt like she was supported, with Kagami and Luka looking satisfied with their choice in offering help to her.

It was like she was Ladybug, and they were the partners standing at her side, each with their own form of support. It made her smile, allowing her to happily eat away at her ice cream without thinking about anything stressful.

The idea of going to New York was suddenly very unappetizing in comparison to having ice cream with Luka and Kagami.

—————

All things considered, Ladybug wasn't concerned about telling Chat Noir that her plans had changed and she wasn't going anywhere after all. She imagined that Chat would be overjoyed and wouldn't even ask questions about it, just happy to have her back. She found his affection eyeroll-worthy, but he was still her teammate, so she just steeled herself up for whatever ramble he was about to give her.

However, as she waited near the top of the Eiffel Tower, sitting on the guardrail and looking around for Chat Noir, she realized that she couldn't even see him. Checking the time on her yoyo, she confirmed that it was indeed time for their usual patrol, but Chat Noir was completely absent. Even though it was nighttime, which made the black cat's suit blend in with the sky, he still had the blond hair and light skin that should've made him noticeable.

Ladybug got up and paced around the area a few times, constantly peeking down at the city as she wondered if maybe she just wasn't looking in the right spot. When she still saw nothing, she concluded that Chat Noir must just be running late and she'd simply have to wait a little longer. Things happened, after all, she knew that better than anyone, so she began idling on her yoyo, searching for something to keep her occupied while she waited.

They were a team. While their identities had to remain a secret, Chat Noir had always hated it and prioritized openness in their relationship, so he would've told her if something had come up. He was also active in going on patrols, always seeming eager to join her for their runs across the rooftops, and given that he didn't even know that she'd still be in Paris, patrols were even more crucial.

He never showed up.

#MC's Writing #writing: story #Lukagaminette #relationship: Kagami Tsurugi & Luka Couffaine & Marinette Dupain Cheng #other: ask and answer #category: long post #word count: over 2000 #Pro LukaMari #Lukanette

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baepsaesbae · 4 years ago

Text

Taming Temerity

Pairing— Min Yoongi x reader

Genre— SMUT +18, incubus!Yoongi, demon au, Valentine’s Day au

Warnings— Dom!Yoongi, brat!reader, fingering, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, hickies, shibari, tickling huehuehue, swearing, explicit unprotected sex (use protection when fucking a demon), ass slapping, creampie

Word Count— 4.3k

��/təˈmerədē/: excessive confidence or boldness; audacity || You try explaining Valentine’s Day to Min Yoongi, your incubus boyfriend that feeds on your sexual energy. At first he doesn’t understand the point, but if it’ll make you horny then he’s willing to do anything.

A/N— This fic is part of the Valentine’s Day collab Be My Bangtanvine with @kimtaehyunq @ppersonna @ughseoks @jinned @joontopia and @feliix. Make sure to check out their stories too!

“I never understood this holiday. You know it’s just a corporate scam for suckers like you, right?” Yoongi expressed his disdain as his gaze fell on the extravagant Valentine’s Day section in the grocery store.

“So you’ve mentioned, Mr. Party Pooper,” you rolled your eyes, “Some people just like getting chocolates and flowers from their partners. I don’t see any problem with that.”

“Do you want chocolates and flowers? I can get them for you any time, just say the word,” Yoongi offered.

“That’s the point, it should be a little surprise. I wouldn’t have to ask you to do anything,” you tried to explain.

“At that point you’re already expecting something, doesn’t that just defeat the purpose?” your companion was genuinely confused.

“You know what? I don’t expect a demon like you to get it,” you were getting frustrated.

“No need to throw the ‘D’ word around like that. I’m an incubus sure, but we specialize in lust, not love. However, I’m always down to try new things. You of all people should know that,” he ended suggestively.

You started to think about how your relationship started with Yoongi. Your body went on autopilot mode on the drive back home as flashbacks flooded your mind.

It all started about six months ago when you randomly started to have sleep paralysis consistently. You’d foolishly open your eyes and see a dark figure in the corner of your room that gradually came closer before settling on top of you. The extra weight on your chest made it hard to breathe. Once it got to that point, your eyelids would close and you’d be whisked away to a sensual dream. You’d wake up refreshed and energized, completely forgetting about the terrifying events that led up to your wet dream.

One night, you miraculously were able to break the cycle. As soon as the dark figure approached the bed, you threw a pillow at it. At that point, you weren’t sure if you were in a dream or not, but you dashed to turn on your bedroom lights. The light revealed a man standing frozen in place by your bed. You remember screaming for help and shouting things about a pervert stalker.

“Help! Somebody help there’s an intruder! Someone please--” suddenly your mouth refused to open.

“Well this is awkward,” the man rubbed the back of his neck, “Let’s get a few things out of the way first. I’m not a pervert or a stalker. In fact, I’m not even human, I’m an incubus. A new one at that.”

Your eyes widened in horror at the mention of a demonic entity. You backed up into a wall trying to get away from him while muffled screams desperately tried to escape from your sealed lips.

“I’m sure you have a few questions. Normally I would just put you to sleep but you’re wide awake now and honestly I don’t have the kind of mana to deal with all that. So we’ve found ourselves in quite the predicament,” the demon sighed as he sat on your bed. With a wave of his hand, your mouth was finally able to open again.

“What the fuck do you mean you’re a demon? This must be a dream right?” you were bewildered.

“Come sit by me, I can show you that I’m real,” the demon patted the bed.

“Trusting a self proclaimed demon is probably a bad idea but this is just a weird dream anyway,” you reasoned out loud as you sat beside the intruder.

The man raised one of his hands to cup your cheek; you shuddered at his cold touch. Something changed when you looked into his eyes. Suddenly, you felt like kissing this total stranger. In fact, you felt a lust that you’ve never felt before. Before you knew it, you were straddling the man, rubbing your crotch against his as you passionately made out.

“Lay back and take off your pants, dear,” he commanded. You did as he said without hesitation.

The man licked his lips as he spread open your legs. He slowly dragged a finger along your covered slit. Pulling your panties aside, he dove in tongue first, causing you to shudder at the warm and wet sensation. His tongue flicked around between your folds as his thumb began to circle your clit. Pleasure coursed throughout your body as your hands entangled themselves in his hair. You felt two hard protruding bumps atop his head...horns?

“Reaching for my horns already? Naughty girl,” the man smirked as he inserted a finger into your wet pussy. You squirmed at his action. It wasn’t enough, you needed more.

“Oh? What’s wrong?” he asked with fake innocence as he slowly finger fucked you, “Is one not enough? Do you need more?” You silently nodded in response.

“Nuh uh, I need to hear you say it,” he teased.

“Please, I need more,” you begged as you helplessly tried to grind against his one finger.

“Hm one finger isn’t enough huh? How about two?” he added in his middle finger as you moaned, “Or do you want three?”

His ring finger slid in with ease. Finally, you felt full; lewd sounds escaped from your lips. Your back arched as he picked up his pace, curling his fingers into you with every pump. Something tight wound up in you, indicating that you were close to your high.

“Keep going. Faster,” you panted as your legs began to shake.

“Your wish is my command,” he obliged. You cried out as your orgasm hit you. Waves of euphoria rippled across your body as he slammed his fingers into you a final time, leaving his fingers pressed up against your g-spot to prolong the event.

You focused on catching your breath while the alleged demon smiled down at you. It wasn’t a creepy smile, it was one of triumph. His fingers were still inside of you.

“You can pull them out now,” you said weakly.

“I tried. Your tight little pussy is clamped onto them. See?” he showed you how your lips stayed gripped onto his fingers, “If I can’t pull them out, I might as well go back in.”

He pushed his fingers back in, making you gasp. You were still extremely sensitive, any movement of his would push you over the edge yet again.

“If you do that-- fuck-- I’ll come again,” you warned him.

“Let’s see how many you can handle,” the man challenged as he picked up his speed yet again.

You came three times that night. All just to his hand and occasionally his mouth. The demon looked satisfied with his work as you laid blissed out before him. He slunk down beside you, laying on his side with his head propped up on his arm.

“These got bigger,” you observed as you reached for his horns. The tiny black stumps had grown longer and had a more defined horn shape. They felt cool to the touch and were ridged, similar to those of a ram.

“They’re not the only things that got bigger,” he winked, “This is where my mana is stored. Essentially I get stronger when I consume energy.”

“Consume energy? Are you going to eat me?” you questioned with intrigue. You still believed you were in a strange dream.

“Already did. I told you, I’m an incubus. We feed off of sexual energy. I rather enjoyed the meal. It’s too bad this will be the last time I can see you though,” he pouted.

“What? Why can’t you visit me in my dreams like you normally do?” you could get used to having dreams like this.

“Because you know that I exist. After tonight, you’ll forget all about me and I’ll get reassigned to a different human,” he answered nonchalantly.

“Does that mean I’ll get another incubus demon?”

“Not exactly. There are many different kinds of beings that dwell in the underworld. You could get any one of them. Most of them aren’t as fun or as handsome as me though,” he tried to lighten the conversation.

“I don’t want to forget you, nor do I want this dream to end,” you admitted.

“Silly girl, you still think this is a dream? There actually might be a way to have me stay with you. All you have to do is make a contract with me. Interested?” the demon offered.

“A contract? Am I gonna be selling my soul to you or something? I would prefer to keep that if possible,” you tried to joke.

“I’m not that kind of demon. The contract would simply bind us together. You let me consume all of your sexual energy and I give you the best orgasms you’ll ever have. Seems like a fair deal to me,” he explained.

“So I’ll basically have a demon boyfriend? I don’t mind that, sign me up,” you nodded. You were groggy at this point and your eyelids were getting heavy.

“Boyfriend? I suppose you could put it that way. Let’s seal this deal with a kiss,” he suggested. He leaned in to your already puckered up lips. He paused mere centimeters from your face, “I’m Yoongi by the way. I apologize for not introducing myself earlier.”

You pulled him in for a soft kiss, “Hey Yoongi, I’m ___. I guess I’m your girlfriend now.”

“Whatcha thinking about?” Yoongi interrupted your thoughts.

“About the night we met,” you answered as you pulled into your driveway.

“That was a good night. You were so cute when you called yourself my girlfriend,” he smiled.

“Shut up, I thought it was all a dream,” you said defensively as you unloaded the groceries.

“I was thinking about Valentine’s Day as you were driving in silence. I wanna give it a try. I don’t get the hype, but if it will make you happy then I’m willing to go along with it,” Yoongi stated.

“Really?” your mouth opened with excitement, “Do I need to plan the date or are you taking the reins on this one?”

“I’ll start doing my research now,” Yoongi gave you a thumbs up.

“Rise and shine gorgeous~” Yoongi sing songed as he opened the blinds.

You retreated back under the covers to shield yourself from the light. Yoongi tugged at the edge, making you even more aggravated. Curling up into a ball in the fetal position was your last line of defense. Once Yoongi flung off the blanket, you were done for.

“To start off your very best Valentine’s Day ever, I present you a bouquet,” Yoongi shoved a bundle of red roses in your face, causing you to sneeze. A few petals violently detached and fluttered helplessly onto the bed.

“Thanks Yoongi, the flowers are pretty,” you managed to say with a stuffy nose, “I wish I could adore them more but flowers always trigger my allergies.”

“Hm, every romance film I watched always showed the girl loving roses,” Yoongi pondered, “Not to worry, my algorithm is flawless.”

“Are you a robot now?” you joked. The sweet smell of syrup and waffles caught your attention. Yoongi noticed this and excitedly yanked you out of bed. Normally you would bicker about the manhandling but you decided to let today be an exception.

The living room was filled with pink and white heart shaped balloons. Yoongi dragged you to the breakfast table, where the usual placemats were replaced with red hearts and small metallic heart shaped confetti were sprinkled all across the surface. To top it off, the belgian waffles were heart shaped, outlined with whipped cream and topped with strawberries. The presentation rivaled that of an actual restaurant.

Yoongi watched expectantly as you took the first bite. Your mouth turned into a smile as you tasted the fluffy waffle. The toppings complemented the dish perfectly, and you were hungry for more.

“I made eggs and bacon too, though it was hard to get the eggs into a heart shape,” Yoongi sighed as he showed you his attempt to get heart sunny side eggs. The shape was wonky but it was impressive that the yolks were still well intact.

“I don’t care what they look like, I’m sure they’ll taste great. Thank you, Yoongi, this is incredible,” you showered him with compliments as you continued to eat. Yoongi smiled with satisfaction as he took a sip of coffee, his favorite choice of sustenance from the human realm.

“Enjoying your Valentine’s Day so far?” he asked from across the table.

“I’ve only been awake for about 5 minutes but it’s been pretty good so far,” you nodded.

“Well whenever you’re ready, go get ready for a day out,” Yoongi winked, “Dress however you want, it’ll be casual.”

You couldn’t help but wonder about what Yoongi had planned for the day. It was still a little chilly, so you put on a cute sweater paired with jeans. You accessorized with a beret and your favorite jewelry pieces. Yoongi waited for you in the living room, and his eyes lit up when he saw you. It wasn’t the usual dark lustful look he normally gave you, but rather one of fondness and genuine adoration.

“Where are we off to now?” you asked in the passenger seat, which was a rare sight. Yoongi didn’t like to drive, he always complained about how it would be easier to just teleport. You always had to remind him that humans do not simply ‘teleport’ places and you’d surely turn a lot of heads if you did. Regardless, you enjoyed watching Yoongi drive. You admired his delicate features as he concentrated on the road.

“Can’t tell you, that you ruin the surprise,” Yoongi chided.

Your eyes widened as he pulled into the parking lot of the local aquarium. It had been years since you last visited, and you were thrilled that Yoongi picked this place as a date spot.

“The aquarium! Ah, I’m so excited! But they aren’t inherently romantic, what made you think of coming here?” you questioned.

“I remember you mentioned wanting to come back here someday. I figured today would be a good time,” he shrugged. Yoongi’s thoughtfulness made you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Once inside, you took the liberty of pointing out every fish you thought looked pretty to Yoongi. He was amused by how much you enjoyed something as simple as looking at fish. Colorful fish chased each other around their tanks, darting between corals and other underwater plants. You loved watching them go about their lives as they vibed within the aquarium.

“It would be nice to be a fish,” you said to Yoongi as you stared in awe at jellyfish that were nearly transparent as they carelessly floated around.

“A fish? Why?” Yoongi scoffed.

“They seem happy, and free in a way. All they do is swim around and eat, that sounds like a good time to me,” you explained.

“And worry about getting eaten by a bigger fish. I’d rather be a cat if I had to be any animal,” Yoongi countered.

“Okay, that’s probably a better choice,” you laughed as you imagined Yoongi as a cat. It fit him surprisingly well.

After leaving the aquarium, Yoongi suggested walking to a nearby gelato shop. You were never one to turn down dessert, so you agreed. The air was crisp and the cold made your cheeks go slightly numb, but you didn’t mind. You happily swung Yoongi’s hand back and forth in yours, you couldn’t remember the last time you’ve been on a date that went this well.

“___?” a voice called out to you. You looked around to see who called you. Out of nowhere, someone ran up and hugged you from behind. You let go of Yoongi’s hand in the commotion as you were spun around.

“What the--” you said in shock. Finally you were put down, and saw a familiar face grinning back at you.

“Oh my god, Jungkook!” you exclaimed as you hugged him back. He greeted you with a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s been forever! I didn’t know you still lived here,” you said.

“I know right?! God, like 13 years or something? I’m here visiting some old pals. We’re all single so we’re celebrating this stupid holiday together,” Jungkook laughed.

“Aww that's cute. I guess this holiday is pretty dumb, but I’m actually celebrating it with someone this year! This is Yoongi,” you introduced Jungkook to your boyfriend.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Jungkook,” the young boy extended a hand.

“Min Yoongi,” Yoongi replied curtly as he firmly shook Jungkook’s hand.

“Damn, where are you hiding all that muscle?” Jungkook joked as he clutched his hand.

“Looks can be deceiving,” Yoongi deadpanned.

“How long are you in town for? I’d love to catch up with you on another day,” you interrupted.

“I’ll be here for a few more days. Is your number still the same? I can text you tomorrow?” Jungkook offered.

“That’s perfect, I’ll see you around!” you waved goodbye and returned your attention to Yoongi.

You took a hold of his hand and continued walking to the gelato shop. Yoongi was noticeably quiet now, and his demeanor had completely changed. There was an awkward silence between you two as you ordered your favorite flavors. You both sat outside to eat the gelato.

“So who was he?” Yoongi finally spoke.

“Jungkook used to be my neighbor when we were kids. We practically grew up together. He moved away sometime in middle school and I haven’t seen him since. He looks great, I almost didn’t recognize him. What? Are you jealous?” you teased.

“I almost killed him when he kissed you,” Yoongi said in a tone that let you know that he was not kidding.

“Yoongi! People greet each other that way sometimes. Sure, it was a little forward, but we used to be best friends as kids,” you scolded him.

“Ready to go home?” Yoongi asked, completely disregarding your explanation.

“Okay let’s go back you big baby,” you sighed as you threw away your trash.

You hummed along with the radio all the way home. Yoongi didn’t say anything the whole ride. You were surprised by his behavior, you figured an incubus wouldn’t mind seeing affection in public. He had never given you the silent treatment before, so this was uncharted waters.

“Today was really nice, I think you did a good job planning out our Valentine’s day together,” you praised Yoongi as you returned home.

“Glad you enjoyed it,” Yoongi said coldly.

“Why are you being so pouty? C’mere, let me give the big baby a hug,” you reached for him with outstretched arms.

“You think I’d let you get away with that kind of behavior?” an annoyed Yoongi glared back at you.

“C’mon, it’s not like it really matters,” you teased, trying to push your luck.

“It matters to me. You’re mine,” Yoongi snarled, baring his fangs.

“You’ve made that abundantly clear,” you tilted your neck, revealing marks from his previous feedings, “I can’t leave the house without a crap ton of concealer to cover up your monstrous hickeys.”

“You knew what you were signing up for when you agreed to be my permanent lover,” Yoongi shrugged, his anger dissipating.

“Who knew dating an incubus would be so tiresome,” you playfully roll your eyes.

“So that random guy kissing your cheeks doesn’t deserve to die?” he asked quietly.

“No! I told you, we’re childhood friends. I haven’t seen him in years. It’s okay to greet close friends with a friendly peck on the cheeks” you crossed your arms, “You’re being annoying. No dinner for you tonight,” you said confidently as you both entered the bedroom.

“Oh? Since when do you call the shots around here?” his voice lowered.

“Since now,” you replied defiantly.

“Keep being cheeky, see where that gets you,” Yoongi challenged.

You smiled slyly as you pushed him onto the bed. Standing before him, you pulled off your sweater to reveal your bare chest. Yoongi instinctively reached out to grab them but you slapped his hand away.

“No touching,” you tsked as you slowly stripped off your bottoms.

You turned to shake your ass at him. The gesture was meant to be playful, but Yoongi took it as a wage of war. He instantly pulled you onto his lap; your panties rubbed up against his hardened crotch.

“I’m hungry,” he growled in your ear as he firmly gripped your ass.

“Not my problem,” you snapped, doing your best to maintain your composure.

“You’ll let me starve?”

“Don’t act as if you didn’t eat me out until I begged for you to stop last night,” you admonished.

“Enough,” Yoongi silenced you.

He roughly latched his soft lips onto your neck. His harsh suckling caused you to moan and tangle your fingers in his minty green hair. You cupped his chin in an attempt to kiss him, but he pulled away.

“You think you get to touch me now? Foolish,” he threw you further onto the bed.

With a snap of his fingers, your panties vanished. They were replaced with strict constraints as your hands and feet were bound by an intricate silk rope pattern. You’ve never been tied up like this before. You’ve dabbled in using handcuffs or fastening a belt around your wrists, but this was something else entirely.

“You wanted to play. So let’s play,” Yoongi cooed in your ear as his fingers traced your sides.

“Oh fuck, Yoongi no,” your eyes widened.

“You’ve been a bad girl,” he smiled deviously.

His fingers dug into your sides. You burst out into a fit of laughter. You wriggled around uncontrollably in a futile attempt to get away from him. Yoongi accidentally found out that you were extremely ticklish, and ever since that day he uses it as leverage against you. It wasn’t fair at all considering that demons aren’t ticklish.

Tears welled in your eyes when he finally ceased his attack. Yoongi also knew that tickling was a turn on for you. Something about having another person’s hands all over you made you wet.

“You look so helpless,” Yoongi chuckled.

“Maybe these ropes have something to do with that,” you retorted as you panted.

“Still talking back? You obviously haven’t learned your lesson,” Yoongi ran his fingers along your sides.

“No, please. I can’t take anymore,” you pleaded.

“I think you can,” he smirked before tickling you again.

This time he didn’t stop until you were on the verge of passing out. The bondage made it even harder to catch your breath. Yoongi gingerly kissed your neck as you howled with laughter.

“Will you be a good girl now?” Yoongi asked as he flicked your nipples.

“Mhm,” you managed to whimper.

“I haven’t whipped out any shibari in ages, but I’m glad I did. I forgot how appetizing it makes humans look,” Yoongi licked his lips.

“I can’t move,” you complained.

“That’s the point, my dear ___,” Yoongi kissed your forehead.

His hand trailed down your stomach to your exposed pussy. He was pleased to find that you were already dripping wet. He rubbed circles around your clit as he licked your neck. He ferociously kissed over his previous marks as he started rubbing you faster. Your energy tasted exponentially better the more aroused you became.

Being in such a vulnerable and powerless position turned you on so much. You found yourself at Yoongi’s mercy. Yoongi easily slipped two fingers inside of you. He curled his fingers to perfectly graze your g-spot, causing you to moan loudly.

“You want me to fuck you?” Yoongi whispered in your ear.

“Please. I need you, Yoongi,” you begged.

“I know you do,” he kissed your lips gently.

With another snap of his fingers, the ropes moved their position. Now your wrists were bound to your chest, and your legs were already spread open.

Yoongi dragged his dick along your wet pussy. He loved watching you squirm beneath him as you impatiently waited for him to dick you down. He relished the erotic scene that lay before him. Witnessing you at the pinnacle of your horniess was a blessing. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer.

He thrusted his hips into you with inhuman force. He didn’t give you time to adjust to his thick cock; you didn’t deserve that tonight. Your cries of pleasure were music to his ears. He grabbed your chin as he ran his thumb along your bottom lip. You automatically stuck your tongue out for him.

“Good fucking girl,” Yoongi growled as you began to suck on his thumb, your tongue swirling around it.

Yoongi tugged at the ropes, making them vanish instantly. Your freedom was short lived since he immediately flipped you onto your chest. He propped up your ass, giving each cheek a firm slap.

This position was his favorite, and admittedly yours as well. He loved the backside view, and you loved how deep he got. You were sure to lose your mind every time he got behind you. This instance was no exception.

You reached down between your thighs to maximize your pleasure as your fingers easily toyed with your clit. Usually Yoongi wouldn’t allow you to touch yourself, but you couldn’t help it. You were too riled up from being all tied up.

You came undone all over Yoongi’s cock. The warmth of your juices heightened Yoongi’s lust, causing him to thrust faster. He released his hot load into you, groaning as he climaxed.

Your chest heaved as you struggled to stay awake. One of the side effects of being fucked by an incubus is that they literally can fuck you to sleep. After Yoongi cleaned you up, it was cuddle time. He ran his fingers through your hair, making it even harder not to succumb to slumber.

“Full?” you asked with your eyes half shut.

“I’m never satiated, but I can’t complain for now,” he answered.

“Great. Happy Valentine’s Day, Yoongi,” you yawned.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, ___. I hope I lived up to your expectations,” he patted your head.

“You surpassed them,” you nodded in approval.

“Go to bed,” Yoongi stifled a laugh, “I guess it’s not a pointless holiday after all.”

#bts smut #min yoongi smut #bangtanarmynet #ksmutclub #btswritingcafe #bangtanshadowfamily #btscreatorscorner #bts pwp #yoongi pwp #bts fanfic #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #demon bts #incubus bts #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #bts fluff #yoongi smut

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80yearoldmanmoodboard · 1 year ago

Note

I hope you don’t mind if I add a little more here friend

About a week after Davy first moved in, Micky had dragged him out to a club—not that Davy was complaining, even taken he liked the club scene—on the sunset strip. Micky had brought him there to ‘socialize’ with an up and coming girl-band which Davy thought was a bit funny. “I’m sorry Miss, might have better luck with another bloke.” Davy said politely when the singer for the girl-band made advances on him.

“You’re letting a hot piece like her go? You’re either crazy or taken, man!” Micky teased and Davy laughed. A humorous joke from a funny man, of course Davy was taken. He’d been dating Mike almost the entire time Micky knew him.

Amusing as it was the first time, after enough propositions Davy had had enough. He pushed through the girls and over to Micky, irritated by how often his solo-dancing was interrupted “Micky, can we head back to the pad?”

“What? Why? Aren’t you having fun?”

“Clubs got a nice atmosphere but these birds won’t quit flockin’ and it’s gettin’ on my nerves” Davy admitted, visibly uncomfortable when he noticed another girl from across the club staring at him.

“Jeez Dave, denying all these chicks, you got a girlfriend or something?” Davy laughed. Micky, always making joke. He loosened up but, still determined to go, cocked his head to the side, gesturing to the door. “Yeah alright Davy, we can go.” The pair snuck out and went home, Micky only realizing how tired he was when he dropped onto his bed and Davy stayed with Mike and Peter in the living room for a while.

“Mike,” Davy started later that evening when the two were alone on the couch together, “did we ever tell the fellas we’re together?” Davy was sitting on Mikes lap, snuggled up in his arms while some late night television show drooled on in the background. It was some boring talk show Davy and Mike pretended to really like to spend some alone time together in the evening.

Mike thought on Davys question. “No…” They’d never tried to hide their relationship in front of Micky and Peter, Davy and Mike might not have kissed in front of them but the pair just didn’t kiss in front of others terribly frequently. But Mike and Davy were pretty obvious, so they’d have to know. “I don’t think that’s a problem though sugar, we ain’t exactly subtle with it.” Mike pulled his boyfriend closer to him, kissing his cheek and resting his tired head on Davys shoulder.

After a big yawn Davy said, “I’m goin’ta bed.” He wriggled out of mikes arms and stood, starting to walk to his and Peter’s room.

Holy shit. His and Peter’s room.

“Mike they don’t know.” Davy turned quickly, suddenly feeling energized and walking back over to Mike.

“How could they not know?” Mike said and then he thought about how Micky kept badgering him about Davy’s musical talent. Testing him out on songs during practice and god damnit, “they don’t know.” Mike sighed and laid back on the couch.

Davy and Mike tried, unsuccessfully, for three whole days to tell Micky and Peter they were together. Trying to get them both to slow down long enough to listen without making it sound like either were in trouble was very difficult because they kept doing stupid things and getting in trouble. Micky used the nice glassware for one of his ungodly experiments, Peter fell for another grifters scheme and they had to save him which really didn’t pie nicely with telling your friends you’re dating.

So after 3 incredibly obnoxious days Mike and Davy gave up on their attempts to tell their friends. “Just let them figure it out.” Davy said, exhausted from the last days adventures. “I wonder how long it’ll take ‘em”

“I bet they’ll catch on quick,” Mike grinned at Davy and pulled him into a hug from behind, kissing his neck and making a trail up to his cheek, “cause I just can’t keep my hands off you lover boy!” Davy giggled, kicking his feet in the air encouraging Mike to pick him up and just as he did Micky walked in the room.

This would be it. This had to be it he could look at this and think they were just friends.

“Oh, hey fellas, I found a quarter on the ground and was thinking of getting myself some ice cream and then I lost the quarter some place you haven’t seen a quarter anywhere have you?” Micky asked and they both shook their heads, Mike still holding Davy. “Thanks anyway.” And Micky walked away, not even a little bit suspicious.

“I feel like maybe it’ll take a bit longer than you thought.” Davy slid down out of Mikes arms, his shirt riding up and revealing belly as his feet found the ground and he wondered over to get a drink from the tap.

When they split to go to their respective rooms they both declared the number of weeks they thought it’d take their friends to figure it out and as the time crept by they realized weeks was the wrong measurement of time when it came to betting on how oblivious their friends were.

Davy and Mike had kissed and hugged and snuggled and probably done everything imaginable besides actively fucking in front of their friends and neither Micky nor Peter put the pieces together. What kind of friends sat on top of each other watching movies? Who platonically intertwined their bodies absentmindedly after falling asleep together on the couch?

“I love you Mike,” Davy gave him a kiss, “good luck on your grocery run luv,” he kissed him again, “I’ll have the kitchen clean for you to cook when you get back.” Davy gave him one last kiss, this time for goodbye, and sent him on his way. Micky and Peter both watched. Neither even batted an eye at their exchange.

“Jesus.” Davy rolled his eyes after waiting a few moments after the door closed for a response or reaction from either of them. Nothing. Mike’s so gonna lose the bet. He thought to himself as he cleaned all the pots and pans, starting with the ones Mike expected to use and then moving on through the rest of them.

The Monkees was just Micky, Peter and Mike for a long time until Mike met Davy. He never told the guys about him (because he didnt want them to embarrass him) and Mikes always out picking up Davy and taking him on dates. Eventually Mikes ready to introduce his friends to his boyfriend but they just… don’t seem to understand

Mickys always asking Davy if he has a girlfriend and Davy (who does not yet know just how clueless these guys can be) thinks it’s a joke and goes along with it

Davy’s slowly integrated into the group then the band and then he’s asked to move in (after a heavy adult discussion with Mike about their relationship and next steps). Davy and Mike are both under the assumption they’ll share a room since… boyfriends. But Peter kidnaps Davy and begs until they can be roommates

Eventually Mike and Davy realise the others actually don’t know they’re together and bet each other how long it will take them to figure out. They don’t even attempt to hide their relationship but it seems the more coupley they act the less the others cop on

It takes them making out half naked on the couch for the others to even raise an eyebrow (“I thought you guys were just really close”)

wrote a short thing :)

“We’ve talked it over, and, well, Davy already spends so much time here anyway, so I thought ‘he might as well just move in’ and I think it’s the right next move for us and he agrees, so what do y’all think? Would you be fine if Davy moved in here with us?” Mike asked, shifting nervously on his feet as he looked down at his two best friends to see their reactions. He didn’t know why he was so nervous, it just seemed like a big deal asking his friends if his boyfriend could move in with them. What if they didn’t want Davy around that often? No, that would be silly; Davy already spent so much time hanging around the pad he practically lived there, the only difference would be that he’d be sleeping there now too.

He resisted the urge to swipe his hands against his jeans, but Davy felt his arms tense up from where his hands were wrapped around his bicep and he gave his arm a comforting squeeze.

“Yes that’s fantastic!” Peter said, with a wide, cheery grin spreading across his face.

“Yeah that’s a groovy idea. Davy is a perfect addition.” Micky chimed in.

“Oh, you think so? Thanks fellas, this means a lot, really-“

“I’m so excited I finally get to have a roommate!” Peter said as he sprung up from his seat. He latched onto Davy’s arm and started tugging him in the direction of his bedroom.

“You- what?” Davy asked as he let himself be pulled across the pad, throwing a confused look over his shoulder at Mike who stared back at him just as confound.

“It will be like a sleepover every night. And I won’t get lonely and have to bother Micky and Mike in the middle of the night anymore. We can put your bed right there and you can have these drawers in the dresser.” Peter said as he started opening drawers and moving his clothes around. Davy watched as he shuffled around the room moving stuff and reorganizing his drawers.

“Um- Peter- you know- I was really planning to move in with Mike.” Davy said, awkwardly rubbing at the back of his neck as Peter stopped his hectic motions and turned to look at Davy.

“Yeah you’re moving in with Mike, Micky, and I. That’s why I’m clearing a space for you.”

“No I mean I was planning to move into Mike’s room with him.”

“But Micky already rooms with Mike it doesn’t make any sense for you to move in there too… unless, is it that you don’t want to room with me?” Peter asked staring down at Davy with the biggest, saddest eyes he’d ever seen. He felt a pang of guilt in his chest.

“No peter that’s not it at all. You’d be a great roommate.”

“So you do want to room with me?” Peter asked, a relieved smile taking place of the frown. Davy swallowed down the words of rejection as he stared into Peter’s wide, hopeful eyes. He couldn’t do it; what kind of monster could make Peter feel sad and rejected when he was one of the sweetest people Davy had ever met before.

“Yeah I’ll be your roommate. It’ll be fun just like you said." Davy barely finished his sentence before he was being pulled into a hug by an enthusiastic Peter.

"When are you moving in? Oh I can't wait to help you decorate your side of the room." Peter said clasping his hands together excitedly.

"What're y'all talking about in here?" Mike asked from where he was leaned up against the door frame.

"How Davy is going to decorate his side of the room!"

"His side of the room?" Mike repeated, quirking his eyebrow at Davy who smiled back at him sheepishly.

"Err, Peter can you give me a moment alone with Mike, please?"

"Of course." Peter said as he passed by Mike who was stepping into the room.

"Why does Peter think you'll be rooming with him?" Mike asked once the door shut behind them.

"I kind of told Peter that I would."

"Why would you do that?"

"I tried to tell him I was moving in with you but he looked at me with these big sad puppy eyes and I just didn't have it in me to disappoint him. I swear I've never met someone who reminded me so much of a golden retriever before." Davy explained. Mike nodded along to the last part, having been subjected to Peter's sad puppy eyes before. He knew they were hard to fight if you weren't used to them.

"It's going to be awfully hard to take it back now." Mike said. Davy gave him a pained look.

"Oh come on Mike, it's not so bad of an idea. If I move in down here then at least we don't have to move all of Micky's stuff downstairs. And if we need some alone time I'm sure the guys won't mind switching rooms for a night." Davy said, stepping up to Mike and wrapping his arms around his waist as he fluttered his eyelashes and gave a dazzling smile. "It'll work out fine in the end." he said as he stood on his tippy toes to press a kiss to Mike's neck, then his chin, the his cheek. Mike couldn't help the smile the spread across his face, and he wrapped his arms around Davy's back as he pecked his lips in a small kiss.

"I know you just don't want to deal with a sad Peter, but the Micky thing is a good point. I really don't want to have to spend the day lugging his hundreds of trinkets and god knows what else he has under his bed down the stairs."

"Shall we go back to my place and pack up my things? Peter's already started clearing a space for me, so I think I could be all set up by the end of the day."

"Yeah, I'll meet you in the car, I'm gonna grab some boxes out of the garage for your stuff." Mike replied, pressing one more kiss to Davy's lips before they untangled themselves and headed to the door.

#the monkees #monkees fanfiction #I’d write more but it’s time for bed now #and anyway home you want inspiration to write? I challenge you to get to the fun bit (Mike and Davy making out)#I had fun getting you halfway there but babe you gotta make it the rest of the way >:)#I hope it’s okay I added to it btw I felt inspired!#urs is so fly and I wanted more from this prompt so I did what any irrational person would do and wrote it #I love u and I love ur writing hope this makes you smile at least a bit when you see it

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witchlyboo · 4 years ago

Text

Definitely, maybe.

Part five: The one who belongs to someone else.

Introduction. Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four.

Paring: Latina!reader x Logan Lerman x Tom Holland x Ben Hardy x Timothee Chalamet x Pedro Pascal x Michael B. Jordan

Warnings: Swearing, angst, misspellings, some Spanish, me learning how to write properly, and NY stuff that I've learned from movies that we all agree to pretend are real.

Word count: 6.4 k

a/n: You been asking for smut, I know, I know, I just wanted to introduce you to all the boys first, and we're getting there, just one more ahead. Also, I'm working on a masterlist because we are getting too many parts already.

All body types and skin tones friendly. You can also enjoy it as a no Hispanic reader. Constructive feedback and misspellings correction is always welcome.

Red and blue lights flash the driving mirror.

—No, no, no, por favor que no sea a mi—You beg to the sky looking at the patrol that is asking you to park, or someone else, there's a lot of cars in this part of the city, there's a big chance is the panic who's controlling your senses.—Dios, mi abuela fue a la iglesia cada domingo de su vida y nunca te pidió nada, please let me have some of her divina recompensa.—But that's not how it works, you end up parking with just a few seconds to think what to say. There's a perfect explication of why you are driving a car that is not yours in the middle of the night and smelling like a minibar.

Then this ridiculous thought comes to your mind, you look expensive, you've never seen the daughter of a senator but you must be close to it, it would make you less of a feminist if you just use your attributes? Ugh, you feel sick just to think about it but don't have enough money to pay a fine, and the constant paranoia of being chased all the time as an immigrant will only get stronger.

You pull down your dress a little so your neckline can do its job but you regret it immediately, and you're pretty sure you look more like an expensive prostitute who stole the car of his lover than some influential men's daughter.

—License and registration.—You hear him say when he approaches your window. You don't like this but you have to play the dumb tourist, the pretty foreign girl that is too stupid to be dangerous, with the look you have tonight it shouldn't be hard. But damn you hate cops, any uniformed man that works for the government is your eternal enemy, and you don't know how long you could keep the nice dumb Latina game before spit on his face.

—There's something wrong, officer? ...You?!—Your sexy and fake high voice is ruined when you see the face of the man who stopped you. This night couldn't get worse.

—Wait, what happened with the party?—Evan interrupts you while you finish some notes for work, little remainders for later when you don't have an eleven years old kid running around you, he's not usually this energic and you have to blame yourself for that, you're describing a life of excess and eccentric fun, something you let behind so many years ago that your own son doesn't know even a bit of it.

—Ugh, a nightmare doesn't worth telling.—You remember vaguely most of it but what keeps fresh in your mind is bad enough to don't want to bring it back.

—But if Timothée is my dad I have to know the important things, including the bad stuff.—Sounds perfectly reasonable and that's what makes you groan at him. Sometimes you feel blessed that your kid is better than you in any possible way, and sometimes you want to kill his brain with video games and reality shows like the rest of the parents.

—Ok, cool, but I'll keep all the +18 content for myself, so this part of the story might be blurry for you.—It kinda is for you anyway.

You should’ve known this night was cursed, you had a feeling because a) your earring fell off at the same time Timothée texted you to give you the party address and say he can't pick you up. And b) he won’t pick you up. Your mother would say that’s reason enough to not go, a real gentleman wouldn’t make you go to an unknown place in the middle of the night on your own in a city like this. But you decide to ignore it because you are a modern woman and because it’s worth it. It better be.

The outfit must be something special. You always take your time to choose what to wear, even if just another regular day, and since this isn't the case you thought about it for hours, that made your mind busy enough to not thinking about Tom and the whole love confession. He texted you saying he'll come for you to go to class together on Monday, which is completely impractical because he's way closer than you but is progress and you're going to take it.

You wanted to ask for Sheep's opinion but you thought she might not care, has been a few days since she started acting strange like she's bothered just to see you breathe. You want to blame his boyfriend to take all her time and attention from you but is probably just her new job, she got a small role in a Netflix show, and even when you're so happy for her, that's the event that has changed her into someone completely different. But you give her time, stress can do bad things to people.

The winner is the exact copy you made of the black and white striped dress Cameron Diaz wore in "The Mask" beautiful, classy, and sexy enough without being too scandalous, not that you have any problem with that, but this isn't the occasion, you don't want to feel like you're being too much or too little, just enough, it's supposed to be easy, right? you were born for this. Just adding some big shiny earrings you got on a thrift shop that look like real diamonds and you're ready, not that you own any to compare. Red lipstick, dark eyes, and a messy bun to get that disinterested pitch every look needs.

Getting there wasn't a problem, you were in the rich part of the city, everyone know who, where and what just to brag about it. The excitement is growing with every second, you check your makeup like thirty times in the elevator and send texts to your mom just to let her know where you are, and because you have to share that moment with someone and you are limited of friends these days.

Timothée opens the door with red eyes, drunk, high, or somewhere in between, you know then you were right about the bad feeling. He jumps on you to kiss you and no matter how much you try to explain the delicacy of your lipstick, he does it anyway, leaving a taste of alcohol and shrimps in your mouth. Taking you by the waist he walks you to a group of people you don't know while you're trying harder to fix the red color of your mouth without a mirror.

—Here is the companion I bought, look at her, that's how five grand per hour look like.—They laughed but you were too disoriented to process all the things he said, it was supposed to be a joke? if it is, why isn't he correcting? Instead, his hand goes straight to your ass and presses it to get you closer to him.

—I'm actually an intern in the costume designer department of the new version of "Sense and Sensibility".—You wanted to mention your recent promotion to hairstylist and makeup artist but that might be too pretentious. Anyway, they don't seem to care what you are or not, in fact, they don't even see you, all eyes are on Timothée

—Oh, well, is easy to forget when you're paying them—All laughs again. Who is this person? Who are all these people, actually? You recognize some influencers, a few cast members but there's no sign of the director, other main actors, not even his co-star. You feel like an extra in a movie where someone will be killed in a luxury party, hopefully not you. You take his hand from your body and clear your throat.—I'm just joking my love, she looks stunning, isn't she? I’ll get you a drink.

He leaves and the group of people surrounding you suddenly dissipated like boiling water, you were on your own again and despite some judgmental gazes is like you’re not there, you’re sure you could just take your dress off and throw it to someone’s face and unless Tim says something about it, no one would care. You’re there as his companion, an ornament, and that’s not enough to earn their attention because it’s too obvious you’re the one in turn.

You walk to the only window no one is smoking and check your phone, you know, the thing you do when you pretend you have important issues to attend, but no, you end reading some old messages, pictures, texting your mom of how much fun you’re having at the party, and somehow you check your filed Facebook messages to find Logan’s name. You cover the screen so fast you hurt your nail, his name is enough to make you tremble like a Chihuahua, you haven’t talked to him since that night, you know from his sister he lives in the house he bought for you two and he’s having the happiest life without you. You want to believe that because that means you took the right decision but deep inside… no, you can’t be that person, you want him to be happier than ever.

You find the guts to open the message, and you read as slowly as is humanly possible. “My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health…” Dios, just Logan could start a message like that, your smile is almost too big to fit in your face so you bit your nail to cover it a little. “I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you’ll be happy to know…”

—That’s a fucking long-ass message.—Tim appears behind you and takes your phone from your hand, spilling some of his drink on your dress in the process. Apparently, he's been there long enough to read part of the message.

—Give it back.—You command in the most severe voice you have, your magical moment got ruined and you remember the hole of hell you are.

—"My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health. I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you must know I still use them now and then"—Timothée starts reading the message, and even when no one is close enough to hear it and you don’t really care about this people’s opinion, that’s not for anyone to read, that’s one of the few parts of your life you treasure the most and you’re not ready to get over it.—You little slut, are you cheating on me with a med student?

—Give it to me.—You repeat trying to take the phone from his hand but he’s faster and walks away putting it out of your reach.

—"I meticulously preserve them, I certainly know any piece of art made by you will be priceless in the near future"—You don’t want to hear it coming from his drunk mocking voice, so you try to ignore what he’s saying and put more effort on chasing the phone.—Should I had kept the jeans where you left the wet spot on? I didn’t know you were an artist, my love.

—Timothée, por el amor de Dios.—Now you're trying to climb him, it wouldn't be that hard to take him down, he's skinny and you're fierce. That's what you thought but he's not moving even with you are on top of his shoulder and his opposite long arm keeps the phone away from you.

—Who is this guy and why is he talking to my girl like this?—You see the olive eyes getting darker and the tone of his voice went deeper than you thought he could do. You desist from taking the phone, you know the bullies love the attention, maybe that's exactly what he wants and give it to him just makes it worse.

—I'm not your girl.—You claim fixing up your dress having enough of games, and you have no reason to keep worrying about losing your job, the filming is done, and apparently your relationship with him too. You don't care about any of that anymore, just want to read Logan's text.

Even behind all the alcohol and the eyes injected in blood thanks for who knows what kind of drug, you can see the disappointment and anger, but it's not a broken heart, Is the hissy fit of a child that loses his balloon and now everyone will pay for it, especially you.

—Are you sure about that?—You can see him swallow hard, almost looking vulnerable, but his voice is defiant and threatening to prove you wrong. He just has to stretch out his arm to reach the open window with your phone in hand, his intentions are clear and the only thing you can do is raise your hands as a reflex.—You were mine the moment you put a foot on my trailer, and I don't fucking share my stuff.—Before you can say a word he drops the phone from the fourth floor.

You know is senseless but you find yourself running out of the party and going to search the device, using it also as an excuse to get away from that place. This is the first time someone makes you feel meaningless, you know the famous' world is cold and lacking in empathy but this is ridiculous, they're a bunch of parasites fed by attention and power. By Timothée.

The screen is crashed and the rest of it is probably beyond repair, not that you're surprised, its life is longer than you've been in the country and you admit you should have replaced it much earlier but you're not the kind to throw away things that still work. However, is not the phone you are worried about, not as much as what it contains.

—That was obsolete anyway, I'll get you a better one.—You didn't know he was following you, his voice interrupts your self-wailing. He sounds calmer and a little embarrassed, but not enough to say sorry, you don't think he's capable of saying it.

You shake your head and start to walk away without a word, you don't want anything from him, not materially, at least.

—Don't make a scandal out of it, it's just a phone!—He yells erasing any trace of regret in his voice. He doesn't see the reaction he expected and that's when he runs after you and with a hand on your upper arm pulls you back, you gasped for the sudden bluntness.—That annoying habit you have of leaving when I'm talking to you.

You push him away with all the strength you have, which resulted in him almost falling on the ground.

—I don't care about the stupid phone!—You finally break, but sadly is not as satisfactory as you thought it would be.—You are mean, vain, arrogant and the worst part is that you enjoy being this despicable human because you have absolutely no consequences to it. Everyone around you just accepts it and I feel so sorry for you because the only possible way for you to fill the void inside is to be surrounded by that crowd of mules licking your steps—To your surprise, he has nothing to say, he's just standing there with no facial expression, whatever he feels is easily covered by his years of experience acting, even drunk.—I can't give you that and it's obvious they don't want me either. What am I even doing here?—You ask yourself thinking where would be the best way of getting a cab, is a rich zone, must be easy.

—Everything is better when you're around—His voice is thin and fragile, you have to process what he said three times in your head to understand his words. You're not willing to look at him yet.—You're not like the others.

—Pure bullshit. You love to repeat that misogynist discourse of girls being in a certain way because is easier than be responsible for the people you choose to be—You were hugging yourself the whole time, is a cold night, but not enough to be bothersome, you enjoy Fall weather—You got me for a moment, I give you that, you fooled me but I'm too tired of guessing what version of you is real—When you return your gaze at him, he doesn't try to hide the guilt anymore, but there's still haughtiness in there.—Now, if you don't mind Mr. Chalamet, I need to get a cab.

—No, you came with me, you leave with me.—There's no trace of alcohol in his voice anymore, a good scolding is enough to put you sober, you know that thanks to your mom. Oh god, you're becoming her.

—You didn't bring me here, gigantic head—You look at him and put your hand in front of him with the palm up. He stares at it for several seconds before put his own on it—Not that!—You shake it and start looking inside his jeans pockets until you feel the metal of his key car.—You can't drive and I have to get home. You'll find it in the studio tomorrow.

That's how you ended with a car way more luxurious than you expected, driving so slowly and carefully that the police stopped you. What a night, but at this point, you couldn't care less about anything that is not that message, is been months and you can't get over it, over him. Not even Ben moans, Tom's comforting arms, or fight with a movie star at 3:00 am. is enough to get him out of your mind.

—So is true, you don't wear anything that hasn't appeared in a movie, huh?—Michael B. Jordan is leaning on the car window with a mocking smile and a sparkle of satisfaction that you would love to punch but his uniform keeps you in line, where you come from police is not equal to justice, most of the times is oppression.

—You know where it's from?—That was kind of comforting, no one at the party noticed. Not that you care.

—Is The Mask, not some Adam Hitchcock's blurb.—He smiles and even when you really don't like him, it's nice to be with a familiar face, you are really tired of running away, scaping for problems that are a result of your null capacity to deal with emotions. Ugh, what a word.

—Is Alfred Hitchcock, actually.—You didn't want to sound priggish, but you correct him with no time to stop yourself, an old habit.

—You got me, smarty, you know more than movies than me. Where did you get this car?—You feel really nervous even when you got this legally, you have your documents and license on time and he's being nice enough to not want to run away in a car that you technically borrowed for yourself.

—It's not mine.—No shit, Sherlock.

—No shit, Sherlock, I was asking where did you steal it.—You wanted to laugh but there's something with the uniform that just doesn't allow you to be yourself.—Are you drunk?

—No, no, fuck, no, it's just, I don't feel comfortable with cops—He raises his eyebrows but that is his only reaction.—Listen, is my boss' car, I'm doing the favor to take it to the studio, and I'm really nervous because is fucking expensive, he's an asshole, I haven't drive un almost a year because you people only use cars if you're rich or your work and lives depend on it. I'm starving.—The last part came out of nowhere, you haven't eaten anything in almost 13 hours, maybe that's the actual reason why you are that moody.

He doesn't answer right away, takes his time to look at you, what makes you blush, he's really close, closer than he's ever been. Does he smell like green apples? Not the actual apples, the artificial smell they had given to them.

—Get out of the car.—Oh no, is he arresting you? Is he finally taking revenge for every time you make fun of his Hawaiian-type shirts? You know you have too much karma accumulated and a cop making you pay for it when you don’t believe in their sense of justice is kinda poetic, and evil.

You don’t want to discuss with someone with a taser, gun, pepper spray, or who knows what else. So you take your bag, the key car, and get off defeated.

—My turn is almost over, I’ll take you to eat something, c’mon.—He walks back to his patrol and you stay still for a few seconds still processing his words, you must look totally devastated for him to offer that. How you see it you have two options, go with him and spend an awkward hour with a person you don’t like or risk getting a fine, Tim can pay it, it’s not a big deal but you don’t want to owe him even the minimal thing.

You get in the car holding on to your bag to feel calmer, this is the first time you’re fully alone with him since you found him half-naked in your kitchen. Those defined abs may never leave your brain.

—Are you cold?—He interrupts your thoughts with his question, you didn’t notice you were shaking. He looks for something under his seat and gives you an NYPD hoodie, you hold it doubting your next move, is not like you don’t appreciate the gesture but it’d be easier to take if it doesn’t get that words printed—Is clean.—He says chuckling when he sees the way you’re looking at it.

—Is not that, just, you know, fuck the police, defund the NYPD, demilitarize the pigs and that stuff.—You say putting on the hoodie anyway, is a cold night and you won't help the institution wearing their propaganda.

—Yeah, I get it, but you can't change the system just from within.—You decide is not the right moment to have a political conversation so you shrug your shoulders and discreetly smell the hoodie, a mix of cologne, green apples, and cheap soap, you know is cheap because you buy the exact same, do its job.

—I'm in the mood for pizza.—You say casually, making a deal to yourself to try to be his friend, he is a small part of your life anyway.—Domino's is open at this time of the night?

—Tell me you're not consuming that shit, dear Lord, you been here for how long, two years? I can't believe your idea of a good pizza is Domino's. Stella hasn't taught you anything?—You're surprised by the level of condescension with a pizza and you mirror his smile, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Your school program includes people from all around the world so you don't have that much experience with actual new yorkers. Logan is rich, so he doesn't really count.

—What's wrong with Domino's? I don't buy much street food, is cheaper to buy things on the food market. Besides, all pizza is good.—The mention of Sheep makes you a little tense, so you don't say anything about it, is not a conversation to have with him.

—Don't blaspheme in the patrol, I just washed it—You laugh, finally, after a terrible weekend. You can see why she likes him, there is something about his voice, smile, and his eyes that feel... calm, like watching Friends after a marathon of Lord of the Rings.—There are rules to survive this city, and I'm surprised you have made it this far without a proper guide.

—Chill out Mr. Miyagi, I'm not from the jungle, and I've learned a lot by myself.—He gives you a lopsided grin as a request, and you put your fingers up ready to enlist your acquired knowledge.—Walk fast, like you're about to be stabbed, something that actually happened to me, with an umbrella—He nods and laughs being related to it.—Number two, no small talk, no one cares, even if they ask. Number three, if you look a stranger in the eye, especially a homeless person, you have essentially invited them to approach you.

—Number four, we never eat from Domino's, Papa John's, Pizza hut, or any other chain restaurant, only trucks and local places are allowed.—You roll your eyes but you get the point, is just, again, you're not much into street food, it doesn't taste like home and the only way to eat food like that is preparing it yourself.

—Fine, fuck capitalism, let's support local places—You make an obvious fake enthusiastic tone but he nods proudly.—Number five, you don't need a car to live here, not even know how to drive. I would have successfully avoided this police brutality if I had followed that rule.

—For someone who is about to eat for free, you whine too much.—He parks the car and gives you a sign to go with him. You see him go to a pizza truck and order, you realize at the moment how ridiculous you look, so before chasing him you let your hair down, take your huge earrings off, and roll up the skirt of your dress until your mid-thighs letting the hoodie cover the rest, and clean the red lipstick with a Kleenex from your bag. Now you look more like a college person and not a rich girl who just got seized.

—Here you go.—He says giving you a slice as big as your head, looks oily and spreading cheese everywhere. Perfect.

—Is it vegan?—You ask receiving the food with an obnoxious face. His kind grind turned into a dread expression and you give him your second laugh of the day.—I'm kidding.

You are about to give it a bite when you see passing next to you a huge rat with the exact same slice as yours in its mouth, running into the dark of the night happy to have obtained the food for its family. They use to scare you when you just moved out but now they're like any other pigeon in the sky.

—Rule... whatever, a rat with a slice of pizza is a symbol for good luck, congratulations.—He pets your head awkwardly, not sure if you're ok with the physical contact, which, surprisingly, you are.

—I see rats with bagels all the time.—Pizza and bagels, that's the main culinary wonders of the city, you like it, not much to object but is hard not to compare it with your home's food.

—Is easy to confuse a rough diamond with a simple rock.—You both eat in silence, enjoying the mixed sounds of the city and all the different smells, the whole situation feels like one of those lofi music videos. You remember thinking about moments like this before getting the scholarship, what would it be like to feel normal in the city of your dreams.

—How do you know that much about movies?—He asks after a few minutes when you take a break to drink something, that pizza is not easy to take.

—When I was a kid a spent much time on my own, so my dad bought me a used DVD reproducer, and at the corner of my neighborhood was this movie store where you could buy 5 pirate movies for one dollar. They were blurred, with a terrible sound, and most of the time with the wrong movie inside but they helped me to not feel lonely. Eventually, the store closed but I've watched everything in it by then—He gives you a warm smile, you never told that story to anyone, not because is too intimate to share, but because no one asked, it doesn't sound like a question with a complex answer.—Anyway, I watched Marie Antoinette when I was like eight, and I decided at that moment that however is done I wanted to be part of that magic.

—You hear all kind of people chasing dreams in this city but is hard to find someone who actually deserves it.—You blush and you cover it with your hair but the smile on your voice is impossible to hide.

—Is that a compliment? You must really want me to like you to date Sheep.—You laugh but you can see his face tense, so you can guess your friend has been busy breaking everyone’s hearts.

—She hasn’t returned my calls in three days so I don’t think there’s much you can do—You nod, all this time you thought he was the reason she is ignoring you but apparently you are both in the same boat.—But yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking, what I should have said is, Marie Antoinette at eight? I can see where all the damage started.

You gasp and throw your napkin at his head, he easily catches it without even looking at it and laughs; that was unexpectedly attractive.

—Why a cop?—You ask, not sure where that question came from, maybe you authentically want to know more about him, he just bought you food, and honestly, that's the easiest way to win your trust.

—I wanted to be an actor when I was a child. This is the city of opportunities so you may think that if you want to chase the big wonder, this is the perfect place to do it. But I grow up surrounded by these people giving their entire lives to get something just given to one in a million so I decided is not worth it. For many years I wondered what I wanted to do with my life and the answer was really clear, my dad was a cop, a good one, or that’s what people say. I don’t remember much because he died when I was seven—Conversations about death are not your strength, everything can turn out uncomfortable if you choose the wrong words.—It might not be that glamorous but if my father died for it, it surely worth it.

—For the good ones.—You raise your almost empty can of Coke and he does the same with a grin that warms the cold weather of the night.

—For the good ones.

The next two hours passed like minutes talking about anything and everything. It just felt right to talk freely with him, you didn’t feel judged for your awkward family moments or your random thoughts, not even once because he told you his too. At some point of the night he borrowed you his gym sweatpants, any of you could just suggest going home but that was off the table, end that peace just for weather reasons would have been a tragedy.

—I read Timothée Chalamet is a dick. Is that true?—The mention of his name remains you of your life and everything that comes with it, including the middle semester project that you must dedicate your entire day, one that is about to start.—What, you can’t talk about it?

—He is a complete dick with no sense of privacy or human decency—And when he interrupts a deep kiss to look at your eyes, smile, and caress your chin, you feel like a character of his Victorian movies. But he didn’t ask that.—But the next week he’ll be no longer my problem.

—That’s why we have rule twenty-three, don’t ask for a picture of a celebrity unless they are local—You have heard about it before but you haven’t got the opportunity to decide if you like that rule because the only celebrities you have seen are from work and that club’s party opening.—That means you’ll be free to go to the Stephen Kings’ movie projection there will be for Halloween.

You don’t know if that was a proposition, a suggestion, or just a simple recommendation, and whatever it is, you noticed he was nervous to ask. Is it wrong? It feels wrong like you were betraying your friend accepting to hang out with his boyfriend without her consent. But he didn’t ask you to go with him so is safe to answer.

—Yeah, I guess—You get a moment, four seconds top, where you shared innocent, curious, and tenting gazes like three graders in the playground. And that’s the further you will allow yourself to go.—We better leave, if the sunlight touch me I’ll turn into dust.

You get off the car hood and go to the side door, but this time he opens it for you. You give him a “seriously?” Look, receiving a little push in your arm as a response.

↬☀︎︎

A distant voice asks you to wake up, softly whispers that turn into caresses on your cheek, your eyes feel so heavy, even when you are well aware of your environment your eyelids keep closed.

—Good morning, Princess—This is the first time Tom calls you that way, the change from silly nicknames to Princess is enough to get you out of hibernation. He is squatting beside your bed, his smile is the promise of a better day, and chasing that idea you give him one small back.—Your mom has been texting me desperately all day, she said you're not answering her calls and is worried.

—Fuck, my phone broke last night, can I call her from yours?—That’s an oversimplification but in the search for a better story, that's what you decide to believe and tell. Tom nods and gives it to you, he looks happy, beyond that, this is the first time you see that subtle blush on his cheeks and the eyes sparkling. You sit on the bed next to his body looking for your mom's number, slowly he moves between your legs, you have shorts and an oversized Back To The Future t-shirt, you got took the time to prepare yourself to bed last night and keep Michael’s clothes inside your closet to wash them, like The Tell-Tale Heart, a little innocent secret who feels dirty somehow

The conversations with your mom are always long, nostalgic and the tears are hard to hold for both parts; after a long life sharing almost every day with her, her absence never feels smaller. But this time is different, Tom is exploring the bare skin under your knee with his warm hands, asking for permission with curious eyes, and when you don’t object to the touch the British boy keeps his exploring mission cautiously, giving special attention to see your eyes in case something change. Is time to hang up when he gives a long and loving kiss to your knee, the less erotic kiss you could think of but so intimate to bristle your skin.

—Not nice to touch someone's daughter when is talking to her mom.—The protest of your voice loses strength at every word, he heard that and just straight his back to reach your face, the gap is almost extinct.

—We're okay, she likes me.—He assures holding your hips and pulling you a bit to him. Tom looks very comfortable with the new closeness authorization, you like it but are not very sure about it yet, most of you still think of him as your best friend.

—Did she tell you that? Are you talking with my mom behind my back?—You laugh when he does, almost like nothing changed.

—She adores me, I swear, I'm invited to Christmas, you know?—You're not surprised, she invites everyone, Logan was too but the first time he got family plans and didn't make it to the second.

—You should go, maybe we can do...—His lips touch yours in a peak at the middle phrase and makes you forget what you were about to say.—Man, the audacity to interrupt...—Then he kisses you again, deeply, using his tongue to taste your inner lip and his hands holding your shirt in fists. That's a twist of events.

—Is that ok?—You hear a weak whisper coming out of his voice but you got so mesmerized on his lips that decided to ignore it and kiss him back instead. He responds to your touch and starts to lean over you to make you lay on the bed.

Jesucristo bendito, is this happening? like, actually happening? you must look like trash, you barely took all the makeup from the night before and didn't take a shower, you start to get so worried about smells, feelings, and what that'll mean to your already too much-spoiled friendship.

However, the time of doubts is done when Sheep starts yelling in the living room, you both reacted running to the sound and looking for your blonde friend. Michael is there but doesn't look like the same as a few hours ago, is annoyed and tired for the lack of sleep, a look that doesn't match him at all.—What did you do?—You ask him fast assuming she's mad for something he did.

—Just in time, the star of the movie, I was wondering how much it will take you to be the protagonist of this.—That is Sheep's voice talking about you and what must be your heart breaking from her words.

—Excuse me?—You wish your tone would be less savage but you can't help respond the same way she did.

—Logan wasn't enough, then you got the drummer, fucking Timothée Chalamet, Tom and now my boyfriend. I'm so glad I didn't leave you alone with my dad or I'd be calling you mom now.—You have no words to that, Michael doesn't even dare to look at you, he must have told her something she misunderstood, but Sheep, or well, Stella is saying things she actually thinks and keep to herself. Tom walks in front of you whispering things to her to calm her down but she is not looking at him, you didn't tell her anything about Tom either so he's taking responsibility this time.—Go ahead and fuck the whole city, Michael if that please you but you're crossing the line with Tom and you know that, you're going to ruin him as you ruin every man that enters in your life.—She has a very you moment having the last word of the dispute and getting out of the apartment with Michael going after her but not putting much effort in it.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Taglist:

@eridanuswave @cjand10 @deluxeplanteater @rorodendra @navs-bhat @coxxxxxpi @leviosatothestars

Thanks for all the love and support, if you have opinions, suggestions, or want to be part of the tag list (Or don’t want to be part anymore) let me know, I appreciate every message.

#ben hardy imagine #michael b jordan fc #tom holland x reader #timothee chalamet fanfiction #pedro pascal #logan lerman fc #definitely maybe #fluff #angst #timothee chalamet #Tom Holland #Ben Hardy

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astrochemstry · 4 years ago

Note

Heeeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy how are u? Can i please have some headcanons for the main four eddsworld boys with a reader that drink a lot of coffee with no sugar? Thank you!

Hello anon!! Doing good and Thank you for requesting :D this is an interesting request huhu

This can be interpreted as romantic and platonic

Gender neutral reader

EDD:

Scared

Intimidated

Why???

This guy loves cola

Sugar

Su ga r

And if hes drinking coffee, it hAS to have sugar

“How do you drink that???? Why?? whY?? How?” “with a cup and swallowing it”

Hes okay with it but just intimidated as hell

Especially since you keep drinking it a lot

“Im just concerned Tom, what if they die from all that Coffee?” “You drink Cola everyday- now find the answer.”

He makes coffee puns btw

“Hey! You better stop drinking a latte-” “oh theres a cup of coffee! Where has it bean your whole life?”

He even got Matt into it lmao

“Edd, we’re going to the mall-” “I can’t fully espresso my excitement!” “oh my god.”

He once broke your coffee maker and managed to buy another one

“Hey (Name)-” “Look, Edd, i don't-”

And then you see him holding the box for the coffee maker and a coffee in his other hand

“I made a pot of coffee, espresso-ly for you.”

What a dork

MATT:

Ah the ginger bread man

bro is terrified of coffee

If you thought Tord just punched him

weLL GUESS WHAT

BRO POURED COFFEE ON HIM

STEAMING HOT COFFEE

Not on purpose tho

Matt and Edd tried to scare him and he was drinking Coffee so

Anyways

He does think its bad for you to drink A LOT of coffee

“(naaaaaameee) stoooooop!! That coffee is distracting you from my beautiful face!!”

Uh he tried it once actually

When he got zapped by that gun which makes u forget?

He saw ur coffee and went “oH????”

He uh didnt know how to make coffee with the coffee maker

So he just drank yours

Hes runNing around hES up the rooftoP HE brOke ur coffee maker and probably at Eduardo’s house now

In the end he swore to never drink coffee again

He woke up at a dumpsite after he didnt feel so energetic

But i mean he can be unaware sometimes and he doesnt even realize hes drinking your coffee

He wonders why theres ‘mud stains’ on his face after he leaves the kitchen

But deep down, somewhere,

He knows.

TOM:

Ehh hes just neutral about it? but

Concerned tho abt u drinking coffee a lot

Very concerned

“Im just concerned, Edd. I don't want them to die after some- coffee crash-” “Ok- didnt i talk to you about this before? Also you drink smirnoff all the time.” “Touche.”

Hes the one hiding the coffee from u whenever it gets too much

Tried to hide the coffee maker, broke it but managed to get away with it actually

But felt guilty and did tell the truth to you

Tord drinks coffee too and youre coffee buddies and hes uh

“Stay away from this guy hes dangerous” “we’re literally drinking coffee?”

Yeah not after The end

CouGHCOUGH COUGH SNEEZE

I mean it could be expected he hates the coffee bcs Tord drinks it too buuuuut

that aint gonna stop him from trying new things just bcs some guy he hates drinks it too, hes a mature guy

Anyways

Hes tried it before and he drinks it only when hes feeling tired

Vv tired and stuff

One time Edd got everyone (except Matt) to drink coffee with sugar

Actually i mean mixing it with his Cola

Yeah

Tord didnt like it, tasted weird but he felt REALLY energetic

Though the aftermath wasnt so good

Edd, of course, loved it but said “still not better than the real thing.”

And actually Tom likes it too

“Not like smirnoff buut, its good.”

He actually drinks with you from time to time since Tord went off

Hes pretty chill abt it tbh and sometimes forgets you drink a lot

TORD:

Like the last three, concerned but

Hes just yolo, your life, your problems, your pain tbh

He drinks coffee

Not that much like everyday

I mean when he was still livin with the guys

But since he left and went around to make some thing

Cough

He stays up a lot to finish a project

coUGH

So he needs coffee to energize the fuck outta him

Though it doesnt affect him that much now, cant be energized with something hes tasted for like 365 days and 2 years

So before he went away

You guys drank coffee together

Like you and him will get out of your rooms and make coffee

“Tired?” “very.”

And yk just chat about stuff

Pretty chill stuff until you get close

Bro starts making challenges

Even worse than cola in coffee

“I think i can sneeze the coffee out of my nose- hey lets try it whoever does it fir-” “oh my god”

Actually he started selling some of them using your coffee maker

Managed to make a couple of cash

But he broke it

Yes all 4 of them broke your coffee maker equally

He used his recently gained money for it lmao :’)

Actually you don't see him much with coffee

Most of the time he drinks it inside his room or at early mornings

He invites u to hang out tho

Coffee and bird watching

Until he shoots one

Pretty good shot tho

oK so he leaves the gang to pursue a dream

COVUUUCHHCHGHCOU GH COU GH

You guys keep in contact through skype, zoom whatever app you wanna use lol

You guys just drink coffee with cameras on while working on stuff

And having a convo

“Hows the gang?” “same old same old, what about you?” “eh, been alright.”

And uh after The end, bro still drinks it

But it aint making him energized

Oh boy does he wish he didnt ban cola

Co U GH

Overall, very chill with the coffee and he doesnt drink it with sugar either

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 3 years ago

Text

BOOGA :: Art car

* * * *

I lack the peace of simple things. I am never wholly in place. I find no peace or grace. We sell the world to buy fire, our way lighted by burning men. -Wendell Berry

The only reason to do this stuff is for the relationships. My collaborators over the years on this project are among the core of my weird extended chosen family. There's no way to name names without leaving people out. Everybody mattered. The mark of family is that you still love each other after driving each other insane with unreasonable behavior because you are there to grow together. I believe that we all made something beautiful and highly improbably pop off this year at the burn better than we ever have before on any other project, after working together for years. I cherish all of these relationships deeply, and tending them was at the core of my burn this year.

This stuff is incredibly fun and incredibly hard and takes all day if you invest wholeheartedly in contributing to the event. As with most things in life, the bigger the investment, the more fun you have and the more you learn. My primary $$$ clients (I don't get paid for working on Thunder Gumbo) are also burners and producers who understand why I'm doing what I've done, and I'm very lucky to have them help make it possible. I lost five pounds, and have probably eaten about 200,000 calories since getting back to Reno six days ago. I gave a couple thousand dollars and a few months of my life and efforts to hard work on the project this year between helping produce on three major fundraiser parties (with two more to come this fall), a kickstarter campaign, a thirty five person camp (with kitchen / shower / shade / lounge / workshop / car parking), and an elaborate trucking, breakdown, and financial reconciliation process that is still going on.

The event wouldn't have been the same without investing in it so heavily-- sometimes the object of devotion isn't as important as the devotion to seeing things through in general, no matter what it takes. Even if it means that I was tending to my responsibilities to the point that I brought out a record player and a stack of vinyl, three decks of tarot cards, and a six foot inflatable hamster ball without using any of them once.

Like most difficult things, Burning Man is not for everybody. There's lots of goofy stuff about lots of the tribes that go, it's a pretty self indulgent event in a city that gentrifies steadily every year, some of the internal politics are extremely wack, it is expensive and dangerous and time consuming and classist and dusty. I acknowledge all these things and remain a fan regardless.

Every critique of Burning Man is true, and I honor the festival for being able to contain everything-- it is a Tantra, not a Sutra. It has, love, hate, beauty, ugliness, skill and lack therof, computer programmers who call themselves spanky and dress up as gay aliens, impoverished mystics, kind older people, children, fire spinners, burnouts, prodigies, trolls, real danger, injury, sex, death, cops, life, freedom, an FAA sanctioned airport and a functioning post office, dubstep, waffles. I guess I like that there's a little something for everybody.

My experience at the burn this year was extremely life affirming, but I feel no need to fetishize the experience. I was there and now I am here. It was a great party. There is no way I can give as much of myself to this set of tribal forces next year, having joyous demands on my time in the temporary city of New York like professional development and yoga teacher training, but it has been an incredible ride and I regret nothing. I am completely energized by all that has transpired, and am ready to make my entire life the best it can possibly be every day that I am alive on this planet.

[Shalin Scupham 20 Sept, 2015]

#Burning Man #art car #BOOGA #festival in the desert #Black Rock City #S.A.A.S.

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lesaltywarlock · 2 years ago

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A Regular Day For Griffin Fogarty

A story about how Griffin Fogarty met a Demon.

I was working on Griffin’s profile when I thought about this fic I made a while ago, detailing the story of how he met his Servant. I want to make similar stories for the rest of the Masters as well, but...well, I’ll get to that eventually.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What a beautiful day, ain’t it? The sun’s shining, the birds are chirping, and the car exhaust is as rotten as it was the day before.

“What a beautiful day.” Griffin Fogarty repeated his inner monologue, only questioning his sanity for a few seconds before sitting up. Reaching his arms up above his head to stretch, he promptly banged his knuckles on the metal roof of the van he called home. He recoiled and rubbed his mildly sore hands. “Jesus, I really need to stop doing that.”

Seriously, there were indents from how often he’s done that.

To start off the day, he did his morning routine as anyone would. He neatly folded his thin blanket and placed it on the upper right corner of his mattress before throwing open the van’s back doors and slipping on some gym shoes. Griffin hopped out onto the blacktop of the gas station parking lot to go buy some breakfast.

The familiar jingle of digital bells greeted him when he entered, along with the bored expression of the clerk at the door. An old Italian woman, with a voice ragged and scratchy from years of smoking, but she was kind and gave him free reign of the drink machines.

“Hey, Griffin.” They said, just like always, with a heavy accent. “Just the usual?”

“Yes, please! Oh, actually I just got paid yesterday, so I might be able to splurge a bit more this time.” He placed down a crumpled up ten dollar bill with a cocky grin. “I’ll actually pay for my coffee this time.

The woman’s name tag reflected the morning sun into his eyes, displaying her name. Janice. She smiled at him, perhaps the first expression of interest she’s made today. “Really, now? Why don’t you use it for something better.”

He denied it at first, but she kept insisting, so he eventually relented. Griffin roamed the three short aisles of snacks and occasional premade meals before choosing out some trail mix, a salad, and a Gatorade for when he gets thirsty. There weren’t many options he could choose when it came to meals, as most of them contained meat, but he’s grown to like what little he had. He also got his usual coffee order, adding as much cream and sugar as humanly possible in the tall paper cup filled with slightly burnt vanilla flavored coffee.

Janice scanned his things and handed him his precious change before they bid their farewells. Today was a weekday, and he only got gas on Sundays. He hopped into the ripped up, sun bleached driver’s seat of his van and sped off into the city he’s memorized like the back of his hand.

The gym was his first stop, as always, where he greeted the man at the front desk who only worked Mondays before heading off to his usual round of machinery. He had no need for exercising this frequently every morning, but it was a nice way to get him energized and ready to take on the world.

Also, gyms had showers, and since he didn’t exactly have a home, a corresponding gym membership would allow him to use said shower all he wanted. Which he did, for maybe a good thirty minutes afterwards.

Today was an off day for him. The past few days have been off days for him, mostly because he couldn’t find work after being let go from his old job, and it was rare for anyone to come to him of all people for appliance maintenance or locksmithing no matter how much he advertised it online. The only exception was yesterday, when he miraculously snagged a job helping someone locked outside of their home.

After changing into much cleaner and less sweaty clothes in his van, he then drove to the local library. Having a library card was also a much needed expense since they had free wifi, computers, and, of course, books! Grabbing his old backpack that was practically ripping apart from years of use, he headed inside and plopped onto his usual spot at one of the many wooden long tables inside.

Griffin was still a student after all, taking a few online classes over the summer partly for fun and to finish off some electives he missed before. School was difficult, but having a full ride made things a bit easier, or at least it motivated him enough to keep trying for at least a B+. Without it, he’d probably have gone into debt which he sure as hell didn’t need when he didn’t even have a home.

His stomach’s incessant growling signaled the end of today’s work session. As he left the library and navigated through the parking lot, he mentally tallied up the money he had saved up along with the number of places to eat at. In the end, he decided on his favorite taco truck that was always close to where some of his friends lived. It was hard being on the streets as a vegetarian, but the owners of the truck were kind enough to start making vegetarian options for him.

He was about to start the engine when he noticed a slip of paper peeking out from the lower left corner of his windshield. Griffin stared at it for a few seconds before fear ran through his spine. He let out a defeated sigh and got out to retrieve the ticket.

“Come on, New York, what the hell did I do wrong this time?” He groaned and pushed the door open with his foot. “Seriously, you see a guy living in a van and think he’s a criminal or something….”

When he grabbed the ticket, he was surprised to see that it very much wasn’t a ticket. In fact, it was a parchment adorned with a golden eagle wax sealing. After peeling it off, he opened it up and read a fancily written letter.

To the head of the Fogarty family,

Fortune smiles upon you today, oh fallen blacksmith. You, whose family has all but perished, have been given a chance at redemption. The Holy Grail of legend, an all powerful wish-granter, has been planted in New York City. You and six other Mages shall conduct a ritual known as a Holy Grail War, in which you summon a familiar, a phantom of the past, at your side and defeat your fellow Mages so as to win ownership of the Grail. Only one Master and Servant will win this. If you search the back of your van, you will find the materials needed to start the process, however, a catalyst to help assist with summoning your Servant is not provided. Perhaps you already own one, as the heir to a family of talented armorers.

Good luck,

- Quentin Rambert

“What the fuck?” Griffin exclaimed aloud, turning the heads of a family entering the library and causing the parents to glare at him. His face heated up, and he yelled out, “sorry!”

Obviously, they didn’t care about his apology, and the kid didn’t care at all about what he said either.

He turned his attention back to the parchment in his hands, which weighed as much as the world itself. A chance to wish for anything he desired, and all he had to do was kill six other people and their familiars.

Griffin wasn’t unfamiliar with the idea of killing someone, though he never did. He was still a Mage, and his pride as a Mage still burned within him no matter how long it’s been since he lost everything so many years ago. Nonetheless, he was still inexperienced, and he lived in a van of all things. If anyone found out, he’d be better off as death fodder.

But…there was still a chance for him to win, right? All he needed was his familiar to fight with him and a catalyst to help summon them.

He crawled into the back of the van through the driver’s seat and found a duffel bag containing another large parchment containing a summoning circle, the directions and incantations to summon the Servant, and an address.

After looking it up on his phone, he discovered it was an old abandoned store in a practically barren part of town. It looked shady, but then again, most Mages were.

Griffin weighed the odds, but he began to imagine seeing his family’s faces again. His mother’s kind smile and his father’s tough gaze that always encouraged him to succeed. He shut his eyes and pictured that scene countless times before coming to an answer.

“Alright, Quentin. I’ll accept this offer of yours.”

The only problem, of course, was a catalyst. Some item meant to help summon this Servant of his own. Considering he was homeless and also very poor, there wasn’t much that he had much less could use as a catalyst.

But then a thought popped into existence in his mind. He hoisted the mattress off the floor of the van revealing a garbage bag filled with mementos of his past protected by bubble wrap. After rummaging through family pictures, documents, and some personal keepsakes from his parents, he found it. The first sword he ever made that earned his family’s approval, and it was the start of his journey as a Fogarty before it all came to a screeching halt. He sold a lot of his tools that came after that for money, but he could never quite let go of this one. The blade itself wasn’t perfect, with the edges slightly jagged and starting to rust from years of being hidden away. Even the pommel was barely attached to the hilt, and the leather sheath it was in had started to rot away.

But it was his, and maybe it could give him some badass Servant to boot.

He drove to the address on the paper, only getting lost once trying to take a shortcut along the way. Eventually, he arrived at the empty square and headed inside past the cracked nonfunctioning automatic doors.

Either a storm passed through it or a fight broke out, because the whole place was wrecked and filled with debris. A long gash wrapped around the entire store, with overturned shelves and carts all slashed in half in a manner that looked way too clean to be anything natural. Obviously, none of this was natural, but….

“You’ve accepted our invitation, then?”

The shadows spoke in a shrill, cocky voice. Emerging from the darkness came a young man several inches shorter than him. He was dressed in a black suit lined with gold, and the insignia of an eagle was branded on his shoulder. The man strutted his way over to Griffin, staring straight at him with green eyes shimmering with some sort of electricity. Smoothing his dirty blond hair back, he remarked, “call me Quentin. I’m the heir to—”

“The Rambert family. Famous and rich modern day aristocrats who’ve served New York for years. I-I read your stupid invitation or whatever.” Griffin waved the parchment around in his hands, only to realize that he just yelled at the heir of a rich and powerful family who could probably sick the fucking mafia or something on him. “Uh…I mean, yeah, I’ll be in your Grail War.”

“I’m a bit honored you know me.” Quentin stood up straight and bared his chest out in pride. “Then again, everyone knows me.”

“Why are you here?”

“To observe the birth of a new Master, of course.” They replied. “It’s not everyday that one gets to be in a Holy Grail War.”

Griffin wasn’t exactly buddy-buddy with any Mages, much less the famed Rambert family. He was immediately suspicious, and all of his brain’s alarms flared up with every passing second, but it’s not like he had a choice. If he rejected, there’s no telling what they might do to him. Though if he accepted, there was also a chance that Quentin might kill him on the spot.

His only choice was to do the ritual.

He glared at the man but tried his best to continue as usual. He laid out the parchment of the summoning circle and placed his old sword in the center. Quentin raised a brow at it and said, “you’re trying to summon a Saber, then? Going for a strong Servant from the bat, aren’t you?”

“If it helps me win, then I’ll do whatever.” Griffin stepped back a few paces and held up the paper with the incantation. With a catalyst, it made the whole process much easier, so all he had to do now was start the ritual.

“Let silver and steel be the essence. Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation. Let fire and brimstone pay tribute. Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall. Let the four cardinal gates close. Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate!”

The moment he started the incantation, energy poured out from his body in the form of flames that burned the parchment away, leaving the now glowing shape of the summoning circle. Quentin’s face was illuminated in the light, giving his cold expression an eerie glow.

He continued.

“Let it be declared now. Your flesh shall serve under me, and my fate shall be with your sword. Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail. Answer, if you would submit to this will and this truth.”

His sword trembled, absorbing the summoning circle’s energy before shooting out a pillar of pure light up into the ceiling. A gust of wind shoved him back, but he managed to keep himself from falling over. As he spoke, a deep voice repeated his words moments after they left his tongue.

“From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three great words of power, come forth from the ring of restraint, protector of the holy balance!”

The light promptly disappeared in the blink of an eye. The energy surging through the summoning circle faded away like embers crumbling off firewood. It was just him and Quentin once more.

“Did…it work?” He asked above the ensuing silence.

Quentin said nothing but pointed at his right hand. When he looked down, he found a lion’s head branded on his skin like a tattoo. Its jaws were open in a ferocious roar, with eyes that pierced right through his being. It burned, but no matter how much he rubbed at it, they didn’t smudge.

“Those are your Command Seals.” Quentin explained. “They are proof of your title as Master. They’re powerful spells that allow you to order your Servant to do anything, regardless of power or will, but remember that you only have three. Use them wisely.”

Suddenly, they started to ache even more after hearing that information. Did they really just freely give him the spells to give his familiar absolute orders? Griffin looked around the store, not finding a single person, and a part of him wondered if the ritual actually worked. HIs Servant was nowhere to be seen.

“I…uh, don’t know what to do now.” He murmured in a feeble attempt to fill the silence.

“What we do now is kill each other.”

Griffin choked on his spit. He stumbled backwards, tripping on an empty cart and falling on his ass. Quentin approached him at a snail’s pace, but it didn’t ease the fear creeping into his throat. “Wh-what?”

“With you, our final Master, the Holy Grail War has officially begun.” Lightning crackled between his fingertips which he clasped together, smiling with bloodlust. “The objective is to kill six of the seven Servants, but considering they’re much more powerful than regular humans, it’d be easier to target the Masters. Starting…with you.”

Oh fuck. Oh shit. He was about to die. Griffin Fogarty was about to die. He tried to move, but found himself paralyzed by the growing static electricity in the air. His nose hairs burned with the scent of ozone as clouds gathered above them. Quentin snapped his fingers, sending a bolt of lightning to strike the ground in front of him.

At first, he thought the man just had bad aim, but the sound of footsteps growing closer behind him told Griffin that it was done on purpose. It was a signal.

He turned his head to come face to face with a spear flying straight at his chest, held by a warrior in silver armor. His brief, miserable life flashed before him, and it only made his impending doom feel even more disappointing. After trying so hard to turn his life around after losing everything, this was where it all ended.

“Pick yourself up, Griffin Fogarty!” That same deep, echoing voice spoke both in his mind and in reality. Milliseconds later, a sword, his sword, deflected the warrior’s blow. The wielder was a samurai, or at least someone dressed in the thick plated samurai armor that he’s only ever seen in movies. Despite his sword being a standard European style longsword, they wielded it similarly to a kendo player and used it to parry the silver-clad warrior’s strikes with their spear.

The samurai stared at him with blood red eyes, almost like a demon. His words shook Griffin to his core, like they were commands etched into his very being. “Your life shall not end here. Be brave, Master.”

All of the fear and horror that froze him in place melted away. He pushed himself to his feet and looked over to Quentin’s direction. The man furrowed his brow in anger, yet he didn’t seem surprised by anything that happened. “Lancer! Distract that Servant, I’ll take care of him.”

Electricity gathered in Quentin’s hands as he prepared a spell, but the samurai was much faster than that. He kicked the other Servant, Lancer, in the gut and sent them flying all the way across the store. Then, they were gone in the blink of an eye and reappeared right in front of Quentin, striking them in the nose with the butt of his sword.

Their spell fizzled out as they stumbled back clutching their bloodied nose. Quentin glared at them as Lancer ran to his side with his spear pointed at Griffin. “Alright, you pissed off the wrong guy. Servant or not, you’re still outnumbered.”

The air shimmered as dozens of men with assault rifles appeared from the shadows aiming their laser sights at him. His Servant took up a defensive position, holding up an arm in front of him as some sort of shield. They then huffed and said, “I assure you that you are the one who is outnumbered.”

Plumes of smoke swallowed up the men as the sounds of fighting ensued. Seconds later, when the dust settled, figures cloaked in dark blue clothing that blended in with the darkness stood over the now unconscious gunmen. For the sake of his sanity, Griffin ignored the blood staining their katana.

Lancer took one step towards them before Quentin ordered them to halt. A smile formed on the man’s face, almost seeming satisfied as he applauded Griffin saying, “I must admit, you’ve outsmarted me. What may be a setback to my parents is a job well done for you. You’re one step closer to winning the Grail.”

“Is the Grail a trap as well?” He asked, “is all of this one big elaborate scheme?”

“I assure you that the winner will receive their prize in the end.” They answered, grabbing onto Lancer’s forearm. “I can’t assure you that I’ll help you, though. Maybe the other Masters will be willing to cooperate. Outside of us, there are five others that you will have a chance to meet tomorrow.”

Griffin tensed at the sound of meeting the other participants in this war. He couldn’t help but imagine Mages equally as powerful as Quentin, paired with deadly Servants that could take down a hundred men without so much as lifting a finger. His own Servant’s eyes burrowed into him as they said, “be calm. I will protect you with my life.”

He gathered his courage and forced out his fears through a heavy sigh. “What do you mean by that?”

A few seconds passed before they replied, “a banquet will be held at the Rambert estate outside of the city. This will be your chance to assess the competition and for us to celebrate this momentous occasion. Please, try to wear something fancy. There’ll be a strict dress code.”

“B-but I live in a van, you think I have the money for a suit and tie?”

Quentin shrugged, “not exactly my problem, now is it? I don’t have the time to help you anyways. Being a Rambert’s pretty busy work. Come on, then, Lancer.”

With the loud crackle of thunder and lightning, the pair vanished. As his adrenaline faded, so too did his energy. He fell to his knees clutching at his chest trying to catch his breath. His Servant then pulled him to his feet and gripped him by the shoulders. “Are you alright, Master?”

“Y-yeah, thank you…for everything, and all that.” Griffin managed a smile. “So, you’re my Servant, huh?”

The samurai nodded before sheathing Griffin’s sword and hanging it at his waist, right next to the far sleeker curved katana. They bowed deeply as they said, “you may call me Saber. I shall be your blade from now on, Master.”

“Uh…just call me Griffin.” He laughed nervously. “Master’s…a bit weird of a name.”

“Lord Griffin, then.”

He had a feeling that was the closest Saber would get. Griffin motioned for them to leave the store, and as they did, he couldn’t help but eye the shadows wondering if those men from earlier were still in hiding. “Uh…Saber, where’d all your guys run off to?”

“They are my Noble Phantasm.” He explained. “I can summon them on command to fight and spy for the both of us.”

“Um, mind if I ask what that is?”

Saber nodded. “We Servants are Heroic Spirits, phantoms of figures of the past and fiction. We are given special abilities known as Noble Phantasms that represent the legends that we are known for. Some may wield holy swords, like the legendary King Arthur and Excalibur, while a samurai such as myself is given command over three hundred men. In turn, you are also given that same privilege.”

Griffin’s mind wandered off to a certain BBC show of King Arthur, and how the king definitely sparked an interest in him. He threw that thought away as he slid out of the store and into the parking lot. The sun had set, bringing with it the blanket of night. He didn’t like being in parking lots at night outside of the gas station he’s basically called home for years. It was so dark, and sometimes eerie as well. However, Saber had such a strong presence that he felt the need to be strong as well.

“Do you have a name, Saber?” He asked. “Your…real name. I don’t remember any samurai named Saber in history.”

“It is just a cover name. There are seven classes of Servants in a Holy Grail War, and Saber is one of them.” They answered once more, and Griffin suddenly felt bad for asking so many questions to a man who only just came into being a few minutes ago. “My True Name…the name I was given in life…is Hanzo.”

“Hanzo…that’s a much better name than Saber.” Griffin laughed, throwing open the door to his van and sliding into the driver’s seat while allowing the Servant to rest in the back. “I’m guessing these True Names are supposed to be kept secret?”

Saber nodded.

“Huh…must be weird, you know, to never be called by your name. I wonder if you Servants ever forget who you were back in the day.”

No response.

Griffin was beginning to see how most of their conversations would turn out. He hid his disappointment and drove out of the square, suddenly doubting his actions and the future. Perhaps most importantly, he began to doubt whether or not his wallet could handle having another mouth to feed. He could survive for today, sure, but what about the coming days? What about the literal suit and fucking tie he’d have to buy for tomorrow?

He decided to go and ask his friends tomorrow for help. They were all rich anyways, or at least they had homes unlike him, which Griffin considered wealthy enough. Too tired to do anything else, he pulled into the gas station, headed inside to fetch another pre-packed salad and a chocolate chip cookie as dessert, before flopping onto the mattress in the back of the van.

Saber observed him as he wolfed down his food with reckless abandon. Griffin felt a bit awkward since he’s never exactly had guests in his van, but he did his best to ignore it.

“Are you sure it’s safe to be out here, Lord Griffin?” Saber questioned, eyes roaming the nearly empty parking lot with a hint of unease. “We cannot be stuck out in the open like this, when there might be enemies at every corner.”

“It’s the safest I can manage.” He answered, “considering I don’t have a place to go other than this ol’ thing.”

Griffin proceeded to bang on the van’s walls, causing Saber to freeze and then slowly nod. “I see…so you have no home?”

“I’ve been living on the streets for a couple years now, ever since my parents died and their house burned down.” Griffin cleaned up his hands with some hand sanitizer before stuffing his trash in a plastic bag to throw away in the morning. “All they left me were this van and the tools they made, before I had to sell those for money. That sword I used to summon you is the only thing I couldn’t sell.”

“It is a fine sword.” The Servant unsheathed the blade and held it up against the light pouring out from the gas station. “Whoever made this holds great potential as a craftsman.”

His chest burned with pride hearing those words, and he smiled, sitting up a little bit straighter. “Thanks. It’s the first sword I made that earned my parent’s approval. I could probably make a better one now, but…a blacksmith can’t exactly do his job without the tools, and buying those tools takes money that I obviously don’t have.”

It was the worst thing about his situation. If he just had the tools, he might just be able to start earning a living for himself. But in order to do any of that, he needed money, but he also needed money for food and paying for his phone or gas and all the fucking things homeless people still deal with despite not having a home.

“A blacksmith?” Saber questioned, “there’s far more to you than meets the eye, Lord Griffin.”

“Heh…yeah. My whole family line made their legacy as blacksmiths.” Griffin hung his head and conjured up memories of his childhood. The roar of a furnace and the constant hammering of metal always sounded so comforting to him. For a long time, he could never fall asleep without hearing the sounds of fire crackling in the background. “We made a lot of things…and I sold them all, just to get enough money to survive.”

In hindsight, it was a bit dumb, but he was a dumb teenager who didn’t know how to survive on his own.

They sat in silence. Griffin shifted around before eventually laying down on his bed and wrapping himself as best as possible in his blanket. It was getting late, and if he wanted to wake up early to get that suit, then he’d best sleep now. Maybe it’ll give him a bit more time to dream as well.

“Rest well, Lord Griffin.” Saber said. “My men and I will keep you safe, both you and your dreams.”

He heard the Servant exit the van and shut the door. Normally, Griffin was still paranoid sleeping out in the open like this, even with the door’s locked, but today felt different. Then again, not everyone had some badass samurai and his retinue of three hundred ninja to protect them.

As his eyelids grew heavy with exhaustion, Griffin fell asleep, and he fell into the warm embrace of his dreams where his mother and father still lived, and a place where he wished he could live as well.

#fate grand order #fgo #fgo oc #fate oc #master oc #Fate/Memoriam #writing #my fic #long fic #Griffin Fogarty #I love Griffin with all my heart #I did not realize it would be this long y'all I'm sorry

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marveldc-imagines-hub · 4 years ago

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Imagine Costume-Prepping With Peter:

Anon said: “Can I ask for a Halloween fic or hc with Peter Parker and his best friend reader?”

Fictober prompt: Day 1 - “I need you.”

A/N: This is sometime pre-Jake Gyllenhaal not me having to Google his last name iofjdfigjiohrth, probably somewhere between Homecoming and The Bad Times. Enjoy, and happy spoops!

You frowned as Peter cheekily strolled into his bedroom, all smiles and arms outstretched in a jarringly Tony Stark-like fashion, where you had been sitting on his bed and waiting to see his Halloween costume idea for this year. “Peter, no.”

Peter’s eyes grew three sizes as his arms flopped back to his sides. “What? Why?”

Cue big brown puppy eyes on your best friend’s sweet, hopeful baby face. You scowled on, focusing eye-daggers at the spider symbol on his chest.

“C’mon, [Y/N]!” Peter half-whined. He offered you a few stereotypical hero poses in his actual real-life Spidey suit, clearly trying trying to persuade you; you felt your lips twitch momentarily but you managed to hold it together until he dropped his mini modeling session and switched back to pouting. “It’s funny! Besides, no one will know I’m actually Spider-Man!”

You squinted at him. “You’re literally wearing the suit that Tony Stark gave you. Who else has a suit like that?”

Peter’s eyes flitted to look at anything but you as he began to realize you had a point. Still, after a few moments of fidgeting, he threw up his hands in snap-to-finger-guns formation at you. “Maybe I’m just really good at costumes!”

“Tony Stark good?”

“... Okay, well...” The brunette briefly deflated again and his fingers flexed at his sides, as if grasping at the air would help him grasp onto a good argument. Once he decided on something at least somewhat worth saying, you watched his entire body rev itself back up like the Energizer Bunny. He made a step towards you and began to through up his “I have an idea” hands.

You stopped him by raising your own hand. “Look, it’s absolutely wild that no one has figured it out already, especially at school. I mean, you sometimes make your web fluid while literally sitting in class.”

Peter’s already big eyes grew even wider and one hand dropped to his side again, palm-down and fingers flexed just slightly: Keep it down in Peter Mannerism Language. Despite the two of you people the only people in his apartment at the moment, he lowered his voice when he spoke next. “You noticed that?”

All energy except what was necessary to stare dumbfounded at him left your body; a you-shaped cartoon battery that was quickly draining appeared briefly in your mind’s eye. “I sit across the aisle from you, dude. You face me when you’re pouring chemicals into your desk. Like... what?”

You got a point, Peter said in Mannerism as his eyes darted away and then back to you a couple of times.

“Anyway,” you continued before he thought too hard about it, “what I mean is that yeah, maybe you won’t get caught, or whatever, but... trashy homemade costumes are like our Halloween thing, man! You, me, MJ, Ned! Some really sucky safety scissors, some really cheap foam, some glitter glue for some reason even though none of us ever use it--”

Peter interjected, “Ned used his to paint his nails that one time.”

“--and you got me there,” you admitted with a waggle of your finger. “But at least when you dressed up as Iron Man for the past, what, eight years? You would remake the costume every year. Now look at us.”

You halfheartedly gestured towards the mirror propped up against Peter’s dresser. When the two of you looked, your reflections stared back. Even when he wasn’t doing something heroic in the suit, your best friend looked a little foreign to you. He looked and felt like a superhero, and maybe that’s what really upset you; he was a hero and there you were, standing next to him in a plastic chest plate that costed five bucks at Walmart and the tattered red shower curtain that you’d saved when your parent bought a new one a few months back.

Except, you realized immediately after, Pete is literally a superhero and he deserves to feel good about it. And I should be proud of him instead of being a jackass.

“What?”

You blinked and met Peter’s eyes in the mirror. “What?”

“You mumbled something,” he clarified. You stared as a smile pulled at the corners of his lips but he didn’t have a poker face that was nearly as good as yours; the smile won over only seconds later. “Something about being a hero?”

You felt your cheeks warm as embarrassment began rearing its head but you hid it with a roll of your eyes and playful jab to your friend’s ribs. “Not important. Wear your super suit. You earned it, it’s only fair. I just get worried, you know.”

Peter nodded, then fell back into thought again as he rubbed his side, mostly out of habit than because you had actually hurt him. Then, suddenly, he was throwing his arm around your shoulders in a squishy side-hug that caught you so off guard that you almost stumbled. His strength was still something that he was coming into, even after all this time.

“Ah, careful!” you yelped, then pinched his arm in retaliation. “I don’t have the Spider Tingle like you do.”

“Never.” Peter said, all too seriously. “Never say Spider Tingle.”

There was a mini stare-down. Peter, warning you. You, daring him to stop you. Staring led to squinting. Squinting led to eyebrow movements, which led to weird faces and both of you breaking into a giggle fit.

When you calmed yourselves, Peter released you from the side-hug and picked at his suit a bit. “You are right, though. I probably shouldn’t risk it and the Garbage Brigade is tradition.”

You agreed sagely, “Meaningful, sacred tradition.”

The two of you chuckled again, then Peter went on, “And what kind of friend would I be to break such tradition? If I’m gonna dress up as Spider-Man, I could at least use my first suit to be a little... more casual.”

The first suit? As in your favorite Spidey suit? As in the sweatshirt and the ski mask and the weird goggles and the--?

“No one would expect Spider-Man to go back to wearing his blue athletic pants, huh?” Peter added, confirming you suspicions of the suit, looking at you to see what you thought about this idea.

You stared back. “Pete, do you still have your first Spidey suit?”

He nodded. “Mhm. Yes. Why?”

“Pete.”

“Yes.”

“Pete.”

“Yes.”

“Peter.”

“Yes.”

“Peter Parker.”

“Yes, [Y/N] [L/N].”

You walked right up to him, planted a hand on either side of his face, and stared deeply into his eyes. “Peter.”

“Yes...?” Peter said, now unsure of what to do.

“Pete, please,” you said, “Life or death situation. Right now. I need you... to wear the Trash Panda Spider-Man suit.”

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wordsnwhiskey · 4 years ago

Text

As It Should Be | Chapter 7: Post-Catharsis

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F!Reader x Frankie Morales

Summary: It’s the morning after Jack took Frankie apart then put him back together. Jack wakes up to a surprise and Frankie nearly makes him and Jack late to the office. Frankie’s a new man when you see him, more of the man you remember before the drugs, when you were active duty and it tugs at your heart strings. It’s the day of the dinner conversation you all agreed to have and his ease around both you and Jack gives you hope.

Rating: Explicit - No Minors

Warnings: M/M, light somno, anal sex (M receiving), oral (M receiving & giving), dirty talk, rough (I guess?) sex, light cum play/eating. That should be it, but please let me know if I’m missing anything!

A/N: Some smut to start the day then diving right into fluff, mild angst (I don’t know I think I’m almost incapable of pure fluff) and then more fluff!

WOW, well I didn't expect to have this ready so soon but mi esposa,@danniburgh is fucking amazing and got this back to me so here we are! Again, thank you Danni and my friend Agent Capri Sun for the betas and the encouragement especially over these two chapters because they were a STRUGGLE. They're also the reason why you guys are getting two chapters and not a 12k monstrosity.

WC: ~4.8k

Frankie woke up and found himself in very much the same position he had the morning prior. The warmth of Jack’s presence behind him was comforting. Jack’s chest rose and fell soothingly against Frankie’s back. He found that he didn’t mind being Jack’s little spoon, not with the way Jack’s hand splayed over his hip possessively, which made his heart flip. There was no embarrassment this time when he felt Jack’s cock pressing against his ass. No, this time, it tugged at his arousal and made his own morning wood twitch.

It was funny, looking back at just the morning before to now, how quickly Frankie became enamored with the familiarity of being with Jack. Just two fucking nights. He’d spent two nights in Jack’s bed, in his arms, and it already felt natural, like a routine he could get used to, and one he was loath to change. It was funny, albeit a bit scary, but those were feelings for another time, later, once all three of you could sit down. Right now, Frankie had something much more basic on his mind: food.

Frankie hardly needed to move to know his muscles were sore and his back tender, but it was a good kind of ache. He felt lighter and more like himself than he had in a long time. Last night was catharsis. Jack had shattered him with the flogger then put him back together with his care and affection.

He felt energized.

He tried to roll out of bed only to find himself pulled back by Jack’s arm. A small grunt was pushed from Frankie’s throat. Jack curled further into Frankie, and his hips rutted lazily against his ass. After waiting a minute, Frankie was sure Jack was still asleep, much to his now growing frustration.

Breakfast could wait.

Frankie turned around in Whiskey’s arms with a huff, then started kissing his way over Jack’s neck while his hand reached down to tease Jack’s cock. Save for a murmured groan, Jack still clung to the vestiges of sleep. Undeterred, Frankie leaned in and sucked a mark on the crook of Jack’s neck, right where his shirt collar would barely cover it.

The thought of marking Jack just as Jack had marked him made his soul sing. He wanted to do the same to you. Frankie bit down a little on Jack’s now tender skin and caught the loud moan that was threatening to claw its way out of his throat. He paused a moment to regain his composure, the thought of the three of you claiming each other making his head spin.

His tongue laved over the bruise he left while his hand palmed at the precum that beaded at the head of Jack’s throbbing cock, spreading it down the shaft. Frankie moaned softly, then smiled hungrily when Jack started to fuck into his loose fist. The soft little moans that fell from Jack’s lips and feathered the air between them were music to Frankie’s ears. More precum slickened Frankie’s hand, and he grazed his teeth over the mark, deepening it.

Jack furrowed his brow as the dual sensations of sucking on his neck and a warm, rough hand around his cock nudged him into consciousness. He thrusted up into the fist around his girth again, and his eyes fluttered open. A bemused smile softened the confusion in his sleep-heavy gaze.

“Mmmm, is there somethin’ I can help my Flyboy with this mornin’?”

Frankie nipped at Jack’s jaw and pushed his shoulder so that he was on his back, then Frankie moved his thigh between Jack’s legs. He loomed over Jack, hands planted on either side of Jack’s head.

“How’s your back, Flyboy?”

“Back’s fine.” Frankie kissed Jack soundly, his tongue darting over Jack’s plump lips, then over his tongue once Jack opened his mouth to him. “Just a little sore,” he amended, his words ghosting over Jack’s lips. “Feel great though.”

As if the change in their positions wasn’t telling enough, Jack felt a shift in Frankie. His kisses and the way Frankie nipped at him were more assertive, exuding confidence. Frankie resumed his teasing grip around Jack’s cock and steadily drove him closer and closer to the edge.

It was all a far cry from the shy yet hungry Frankie from the night prior. Jack relished it, not only for the challenge that glimmered in Frankie’s eyes, but because this man that was on top of him, who had woken him up and was teasing him to damnation, this was the man he had caught a glimpse of the night of the gala. The quiet, challenging, and playful confidence paired with those caring, deep, coffee brown eyes that stared back at his own dark melted chocolate ones damn near took his breath away.

Jack ran his hands down Frankie’s sides, pulling a shiver from him. Hunger twinkled in Frankie’s eyes, and Jack couldn’t resist lifting his thigh to grind into Frankie’s neglected arousal. He marveled at the way Frankie gasped, hanging his head between his shoulders, eyes fluttering shut. His breath came in short pants, and a small whine brushed against Jack’s lips at the delicious friction.

“Is there somethin’ I can help you with, Flyboy?” Jack asked again, his teasing tone still thick with sleep.

“No,” Frankie grunted, gritting his teeth for a moment as he let out a shaky breath. “I know what I want,” he murmured.

Now that Jack was awake, Frankie could focus on what he truly desired; his fingers followed his lips as they trailed down Whiskey’s chest and torso, over the various scars that littered Jack’s front and sides. Frankie’s fingertips caught on a puckered scar, the shape one he was well familiar with, a bullet wound. A knot balled in his stomach for a moment at the thought of an injured and bleeding Jack. He kissed the scar then continued his path down. He would take the time to learn Whiskey later, and perhaps make sure that whoever had put a hole in him was no longer in the picture.

Jack’s skin was lit aflame under Frankie’s touch, hot breath skating over his hips. Frankie nuzzled the trail of dark hair that started at his belly, planting kisses all over. He looked up and smiled impishly at Jack, then ran his tongue confidently, teasingly up Jack’s cock. A low moan and shudder came from Whiskey, and his hips bucked, chasing Frankie’s tongue. Frankie pulled back with a smirk, then gripped Jack’s hips tightly to keep him moving.

Whiskey raised an eyebrow at Frankie’s insistent dominance, but his gaze fluttered up to the ceiling when Frankie’s mouth enveloped him.

“Shit…”

The soft curse left a warm, pleasant buzz in the back of Frankie’s mind, and he chased after more of the small sounds he pulled from Jack’s lips. He savored the salty taste that dripped from Jack’s cock onto his tongue. Jack’s hips flexed again, instinctively seeking more of Frankie’s mouth, but the strong grip on hips didn’t budge.

A frustrated growl tumbled from Jack’s chest at Frankie’s languid pace, and his eyes narrowed when Frankie pulled off of him and growled back. Their gazes met, and Jack felt a rush starting to build in his stomach at the glint in Frankie’s eyes and the fingers tightening around his waist in an unspoken challenge.

Before Jack could say anything, Frankie dipped his head and smoothly took the entirety of Whiskey’s cock in his mouth. He moaned around the throbbing, twitching member, sending vibrations up Jack’s spine as Frankie alternated between swirling his tongue around the head and deepthroating Jack’s length. He was intent on getting Jack off his way. He wanted to taste Jack, to make him come undone on his tongue.

Jack could feel himself getting close and let out a gravelly “fuck”. He sat up suddenly and gripped Frankie by his dark, curly locks, then yanked him off of his cock. Jack’s other hand found Frankie’s throat and wrapped around it.

“Look at you, there’s the fire in your eyes I ain’t seen since the night of the gala,” Jack drawls, that blossomed spark of dominance and life in Frankie’s eyes feeding Jack’s own desire to have him. “It looks good on you.”

He tightened his grip on Frankie’s throat, encouraging Frankie to clamber back up until they were chest to chest, and then Jack rolled so that Frankie was beneath him.

“I’ll more than happily follow your lead, Flyboy… another time. Right now,” Jack’s grip adjusted so that Frankie’s chin was cradled by the webbing between Jack’s thumb and index finger and leaned in until they were nose to nose. “Right now, I’m gonna show you you’re mine, Frankie.”

Frankie grinned, eyes dark not only at the fact that Whiskey was willing to switch and let him top, but also enjoying that he had gotten a rise out of Jack.

Jack released his hold on Frankie’s throat. He leaned over Frankie and grabbed the lube on the nightstand as well as something from the drawer. After slickening one of his hands, he set the bottle down on the bed and pumped Frankie a few times. Jack smirked, and Frankie realized what he held: a cock ring.

Jack separated the magnetic section that made up a third of the ring and placed it at the base of his pilot’s cock. Frankie hissed at the cool metal against his skin, then felt and heard Jack position the magnetic portion behind Frankie’s balls and connected it to the rest of the ring.

Jack swatted away Frankie’s hands as they crept towards his aching cock.

“You don’t get to touch it this time, Flyboy. Turnabout‘s fair play for the teasin’ you put me through.”

Frankie moaned in response. Jack poured out more lube and began working Frankie open for him. He wrapped his hand loosely around Frankie’s cock and stroked him slowly while his fingers scissored inside. Their fun last night and teasing earlier served to make it easier to get Frankie ready for him, and soon enough, Jack was sinking into Frankie.

Jack adjusted, bracing himself on Frankie’s hip with one hand and gripping Frankie’s throat with the other.

“Harder.”

Frankie grunted at Whiskey, his hand wrapping around Jack’s wrist, encouraging him to squeeze more. Jack snarled, then squeezed just a bit tighter around Frankie’s throat. He pulled his hips back, snapping them forward as he roughly fucked into Frankie.

There was something much more primal between the two of them this morning, both of their dominant energies coming into play. Frankie’s eyes rolled and he couldn’t keep in the whimper that fell when Jack’s hand shifted from his hip to stroke Frankie’s cock in time with his thrusts. Arousal ricocheted up his spine and gathered at the base of his skull. The sensation was enough to drive him crazy, but the cock ring applied just enough pressure to his root that Frankie couldn’t find release in Jack’s loose grip.

“Look at me, Flyboy.”

Jack growled, his thumb and index finger pressing into Frankie’s jaw as he kept the pressure on Frankie’s neck. Lust glinted in Frankie’s eyes, and a feral smile split his lips at Jack’s commanding tone. Jack set a hard pace, their grunts volleyed with their moans, and the sound of Jack’s thighs colliding with Frankie’s filling the air.

“More!” Frankie gritted out, “C’mon Jack, I know you can… Fuck!”

Jack cut Frankie’s taunting short when he abandoned Frankie’s cock and moved to grip his hip, pressing him into the mattress as he adjusted himself and pounded into him.

“You know I can what, Flyboy?” Jack panted. “Know I can make you forget your own damn name?”

Frankie keened out a raspy moan, and his hands found purchase on Jack’s biceps, his blunt fingernails leaving half-moon indents in Jack’s skin.

“Jack! Fu- mierda!”

“No, that’s my name, Flyboy. Look at you, already a mess for me and forgetting your name.”

Jack mocked Frankie then looked down at his cock, the metal ring making it turn a pretty, angry red. Precum dripped onto his belly, a translucent string connecting the head of his cock to the pool on his stomach. He took his hand away from Frankie’s throat and started stroking Frankie’s cock again, applying the pressure he needed to reach his peak.

“This what you needed? To show me you’ve got it in you? Then have me show you who’s in charge?”

Frankie gave in and moaned, giving up all pretense of putting up a fight with Jack.

“That’s it, let go, cum for d- shit- cum for me, Flyboy.”

Frankie came with a strangled moan, thick ropes of cum landing on his chest and spilling onto Jack’s hand. Jack followed shortly after, thrusting deeply into Frankie, then grinding into him until he finished out his high. He brought his hand to his mouth, licking up the bit of Frankie’s remaining cum then caressed Frankie’s jaw.

Jack gingerly undid the cock ring and tossed it to the side, then rested his forehead on Frankie’s shoulder, his smooth cheek against Frankie’s bearded one. After allowing themselves a few moments to catch their breath, Jack slipped out of Frankie, making him shudder, and stood up, holding his hand out for Frankie.

“C’mon, Flyboy, I reckon we ought to shower.”

A grunt was all the response Jack got as Frankie used Jack’s hand as leverage to haul himself upright, knees shaky from his orgasm. Jack let Frankie step into the shower first, seeing as he still had cum laced over his torso. The hot water steamed up the bathroom as they maneuvered around each other, and Jack took a few moments to appreciate Frankie’s figure. His soft tummy belied his muscular frame. Frankie was strong, and for all that he was modest, the hours he must have spent at the boxing gym showed in his arms and back.

The sharp musk of his soap tinged the air, pulling Jack from his thoughts and his attention back to Frankie’s face as he soaped up. He leaned in to kiss Frankie which earned him a startled moan before he pulled back. They needed to get to the office, not end up going another round. After they had both finished cleaning up, Jack stepped out and handed Frankie a towel. Gazing at his closet, Jack stroked his mustache, his hair sticking up at odd angles and water droplets still clinging to his skin.

“Something like this oughta work...” Jack trailed off and pulled out a gray henley t-shirt, a pair of jeans, and socks. “We’ve also got dinner with Bourbon tonight so take these and put them in that duffle bag in the corner of the closet there. ”

Frankie nodded and took the clothes graciously with a murmured thanks, then grabbed the bag Jack had pointed out. They both got dressed and hurried out the door. Even with the short commute, they’d be cutting it a little close to when Jack needed to get to the office for that morning’s board meeting.

You were lounging in Jack’s chair with your feet propped up on his desk. Three breakfast burritos sat in a bag on the dark wooden surface, accompanied by a drink carrier with two coffees. Your fingers played absentmindedly with the straw of your iced coffee while you waited. It was pretty obvious to you that something intimate was going on between Jack and Frankie, and in all honesty, you were glad. Frankie didn’t trust many people outside of the team, and if he was able to find that trust and safety with Jack like you had? Well, it warmed your heart to think about.

If you were right, and you were damn sure you were, they would have missed breakfast. Your loveable cowboy was notorious for making you both late to work in the morning. Sure enough, you heard Jack unlocking the door and smirked at the way his tongue darted out and his nostrils flared at the smell of food.

“Picked up some coffee and breakfast burritos. Figured you boys might have missed breakfast and would be hungry.”

Frankie was too hungry to be embarrassed by your eyebrow wagging. “Thanks. You’re amazing, Halcón.” He grinned while rummaging through the bag, then pulled out a burrito and grabbed his coffee before flopping down unceremoniously on the couch. He moaned, and you couldn’t help but quirk your eyebrow at him. There was an ease in how Frankie moved, and he seemed content to take up space in a way you hadn’t seen since your days in Delta Force. It brought a smile to your lips before you turned your attention to Whiskey. He tugged you up and out of his chair, then pulled you in for a kiss.

“Believe it or not, darlin’, it wasn’t my fault this time.”

You set your cup down and wrapped your arms around his neck, returning his kiss. “Mmm, great, double trouble,” you whispered so that only Jack could hear and nipped at his bottom lip.

Taking a step back, you handed Jack a burrito and pulled out your own. You took a seat on the other side of the couch from Frankie, your feet crossed over his knee. It reminded you of the days when you were still active duty, lounging around, drinking beer, and eating take-out with Frankie and the guys.

Jack leaned back in his chair and fired up his computer while he ate, groaning when he got a reminder.

“We’re going to have to cut breakfast short, Bourbon. We've got a meeting with Champ and the rest of the Board this morning.”

“We’ve got time, Jack, the meeting isn’t for another 15 minutes, and Champ would want us caffeinated and fed before.” You nudged Frankie’s knee to get his attention. “Pope was looking for you earlier. He said to find him downstairs in the training room. We’ll be out around noon and grab you for lunch.”

Frankie groaned and rolled his shoulders. He was still sore and hoped Pope didn’t want to run through anything too vigorous.

“Rough night?”

You can’t help the teasing smirk on your lips, and it turns into a full grin when Frankie pouts and stretches his neck.

“Tell you all about it later.”

Frankie smiled playfully then affectionately tapped your calves before standing up and tossing his trash, stretching a bit more.

“Thanks for breakfast, Halcón, I’m gonna go find Pope. See you guys for lunch.”

You watched as Frankie strode out of Jack’s office, then turned to Jack.

“Did you guys get any sleep last night?”

He chuckled and downed the rest of his coffee.

“I’m not that young anymore, sweetheart.”

“It’s never been an issue before, cowboy.”

Your voice took on a sultry tone, catching his gaze for just a teasing moment before you went back to your coffee, thinking about the dinner the three of you were going to have later that night.

“He’s in need of some clothes. As much as I don’t mind seeing him in mine, he ought to have some of his own. I figured we could grab lunch, then take him to 5th Avenue?”

That pulled you right out of your thoughts, and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your mouth.

“5th Avenue? You want to take him to Bergdorf Goodman?”

Jack shrugged then nodded. “There’s nothing wrong with it. There’s lots of options, and he’s gonna need some nicer clothes, and they’ve got plenty of them there.”

You shook your head incredulously and smiled. “I’ll bet you $50 that Frankie won’t last five minutes in Bergdorf Goodman’s.”

There was no way. You knew Frankie well enough that he would balk not only at the prices but the styles as well. Standing up, you looked expectantly at Jack and waited for his acceptance.

“Alright, darlin’, fifty bucks, but no trying to steer him away.”

He grinned, a competitive glint in his eyes, then followed you out into the hallway and to what you were sure was going to be an incredibly boring meeting.

Frankie made his way down to the training room and found Pope set up at the firing range. There were a few of the trainees from the day before who nodded as he passed, others murmured amongst themselves and stopped what they were doing. He nodded back at them and waited for Pope to finish his set before making his presence known.

“Hey, qué bueno verte, hermano!”

Santiago turned around, flicked the safety on his pistol, then set it down and took Frankie in for a hug.

“Fish! How’re you doing?”

Frankie rolled his shoulders and grunted. “Whiskey had me spar with Halcón and then some of their trainees yesterday. I’m feeling it today.”

Santi shook his head and shoved Frankie playfully. “I thought you’ve been training with Benny? You should be able to handle a little sparring, Fish.”

Frankie scoffed and readjusted his hat. “Yeah? Do you wanna spar Halcón? She can still kick your ass.”

Pope smiled and shook his head, watching as Frankie grabbed a pistol and ammo from the weapons locker off to the side before taking up position next to him.

“Halcón said you were looking for me?”

Pope nodded and paused his shooting. “It’s been a rough couple of days, Fish. You look better than I’ve seen you in a while, but are you doing alright?”

Frankie finished his clip then looked over to Pope.

“Yeah, had a rough night, but things are a lot better now. Hopefully, they stay that way.”

It was obvious that Santiago wanted to say more, but he seemed to accept Frankie’s answer for now.

As you had predicted, the meeting was beyond boring, but it was a necessity to keep up appearances as a legitimate business. You, Whiskey, and Champ’s holo image let out sighs of relief after everyone else had gone offline.

“Glad that’s over,” you groaned and drummed your fingers on the table. “Is there any news on the mission or La Linda Rosa?”

Champ’s lip pouted out, and he sighed.

“We’re still working on your covers, but we’ve been waiting on Tequila to get back from across the pond. We don’t want to go into this half-cocked.”

You and Whiskey nodded. You were glad that Tequila would be joining, the more agents the better for something of this size. Of course, you also missed the lovable agent. He was just as much fun as, if not more than, as his namesake.

“If that’s it, Champ, we’re fixin’ to take our Flyboy out to get some clothes. He wasn’t planning on being out here for more than a day, and we’ll need clothes for while we’re down in Colombia.”

Champ’s gaze flicked between you and Whiskey. You knew he was taking an interest in Whiskey’s choice of the words ‘our Flyboy’. They felt right though, and you hoped Frankie’s ease around you this morning and his bonding with Jack was a sign that the words were true.

“Of course, take your Flyboy to our tailor down in SoHo, they’ll treat him right.”

“Thanks, Champ, see you Monday.”

You signed off cheerily, ending the conference call, and took off your glasses to look at Whiskey.

“Ready to get our Flyboy and get out of here, cowboy?”

Jack gave you a crooked smile, then got up.

“You ready to lose our bet, darlin’?”

You huffed and shook your head, heading out to the elevators with Jack following behind you. There was no way in hell you were losing.

The low rumble of noise one expected from the training room greeted your ears, but you didn’t see Frankie or Santiago right away. Your eyes scanned the room until you realized that a new sim had been set up for the day, and the lights indicated it was in use. Whiskey followed you over to the monitors where you watched your two teammates prowl through the course.

***

Frankie took off the headset with a groan and set it down on the table, turning when he felt Pope’s hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, hermano…” Santiago paused, and took a breath, finally ready to ask what had been on his mind for a while now. “¿Estás seguro? ¿Quieres hacer esto?” [Are you sure? Do you want to do this?]

Frankie grimaced, then sighed as he put the rest of his kit back on the table. Neither of them really wanted to return to Colombia, the nightmare of that mission still too fresh in their minds.

“No tenemos opción, hermano. Necesitamos regresar… y quemar todo hasta los cimientos.” [We don’t have an option, brother. We need to go back… and burn it all to the ground.]

Pope bit his lip and stared at Frankie, then nodded. He was right, it didn’t feel like they had an option, more of an obligation to right the wrong from the butterfly effect they had set in motion. After Pope had set his kit down, he turned back to Frankie curiously, the hint of a mischievous grin on his face.

“¿Con quién te estás quedando? Y no me digas que estás en el hotel porque nadie estaba ahí anoche. Yo fuí.” [Who are you staying with? And don’t tell me you’re in the hotel because no one was there yesterday. I went.]

Frankie felt a heat rise in his cheeks then he looked over to where he had seen you and Whiskey waiting for him. Pope followed Frankie’s gaze and let out a hearty laugh.

“¿Los dos? ¡Eso, hermano!” [Both of them? Heck yeah, brother! (loosely)]

Frankie blushed an even deeper red and ran his fingers through his hair before replacing his hat. His shy smile made Santiago’s heart swell. He was glad to finally see his friend happy.

“Me estoy quedando con Whiskey pero, sí… los dos me quieren. Vamos hablar sobre todo eso esta noche para ver si es algo que queremos tratar... Espero que sí.” [I’m staying with Whiskey, but, yeah… they both want me. We’re going to talk about it tonight and see if we want to give it a shot... I hope they do.]

Both you and Whiskey noticed the deep red flush that tinged Frankie’s cheeks, but you opted not to say anything about it.

“Good luck, Fish. Ginger asked that I help her some more with intel and recon. You guys have fun!”

Pope winked, then sauntered off, and Frankie groaned as he shifted his weight back on his heels. Clearly, Pope had figured something was going on, but you were more interested in all of the time Santiago was spending at Ginger’s beck and call. Frankie cleared his throat and grabbed your attention.

“How’d the meeting go?”

“About as boring as we expected, but Champ gave us the rest of the day, so after lunch we’re going to get you some clothes.”

Jack led the way out of the training room and headed towards the elevator.

“Before we head out though, why don’t you go get changed, Flyboy. You can use my office and we’ll wait out here.”

Frankie changed quickly and stepped back out into the hallway. You took a moment to appreciate him in Jack’s oxblood button down, patterned navy slacks, and brown leather shoes. Both of your boys caught you staring, twin smirks teasing you. Turning on your heel, you led the way back to the elevators that led down to the lobby.

“We’ll also grab some things to outfit us for the mission.”

A small frown tugged at Frankie’s lips. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t rain as much as it did last time… not gonna hold my breath though.”

There was a beat of silence before Frankie let out a sigh then looked up with a bashful smile.

“Alright, I’m in your hands… be gentle.”

You laughed, a magical sound to Frankie and Whiskey’s ears, then led the way out into the bustling city. Jack followed, leaning forward into Frankie, and growled in his ear.

“That’s not what you were saying last night, Flyboy.”

Your eyebrows shot up and you turned around. It had been just loud enough for you to hear. Frankie coughed in surprise, and Jack winked at you. You slowed down and took Frankie’s arm in yours.

“I’m glad my boys are having fun.”

Frankie leaned into you, feeling emboldened by Jack’s teasing.

“You should join us next time, hermosa.”

Jack grunted and subtly adjusted himself.

“We’re not going to make it to the stores if you two keep this up.”

His growl was playful with the hint of a serious edge to it and the two of you elected to behave… for now.

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jalapeno-princess · 4 years ago

Text

Kiss Me More

Mark Tuan X Reader

Word count: 6.1K

Genre: Very fluffy smut

Warning: Some sexy time in there nothing too extreme (hehehe...or is there?)

Summary: You were confident in the fact that your sex life with Mark was very exciting, wild and fun to say the least. In more or less words, it was perfect. Just your relationship in general was the kind that many people around you would be the envy of. It’s been four years since you began dating and you could honestly say it has been the best four years of your life so far because of him. He was the best boyfriend you could possibly ask for; kind, funny, gentle, considerate, soft-spoken, generous and extremely handsome. He took really good care of you and it was obvious by both his actions and his words that he was madly in love with you. As the two of you are coming down from your sex highs, you grow curious as to why once your love making sessions were over, so is the intimacy. Surely, your boyfriend has his reasons for not kissing you for too much longer as you’re about to go to bed. Right?

A/N: Based on the song “Kiss Me More” by Doja Cat and Sza. I am obsessed with this song and I knew I had to write something based on it so I hope you all enjoy! (I don’t really care for how the ending turned out but whatever).

We hug and yes, we make love And always just say "Goodnight" (la-la-la-la-la) And we cuddle, sure I do love it But I need your lips on mine

Can you kiss me more? We're so young, boy We ain't got nothin' to lose, oh, oh It's just principle Baby, hold me 'Cause I like the way you groove, oh, oh

Boy, you write your name, I can do the same Ooh, I love the taste, la-la-la-la All on my tongue, I want it (la-la-la-la) Boy, you write your name, I can do the same Ooh, I love the taste, la-la-la-la-la All on my tongue, I want it

“Ah—shit, shit—baby, I’m going to need you to slow down. Please—we have the whole night, I just—y/n—fuck. You’re so fucking sexy—“ Against your boyfriend’s pleas, you only sped up your pace to rile him more than he already was.

“The whole night? We’ve been at this for three hours baby. I think I’m gonna tap out here soon. Aren’t you tired?”

The devilish grin that immediately rose on his face at your confession confirmed that no—he was not tired or if he was, he still had enough energy to keep pumping in to you. You were currently bouncing on his cock; sinking up and down on him like it was your life duty to do so.

Your walls were clenched around him deliciously; his hardened length filled you up to the hilt with every thrust. The tip grazed along your nub; flicking it with every pump and it was quickly driving you to the brink of insanity. Honestly, you didn’t think you’d find yourself in this position tonight.

The two of you were exhausted beyond belief; you were at school since six in the morning up until four in the afternoon earlier today. You had finished two midterms and one very important exam you’ve been studying almost an entire month for. Tired wasn’t even a good enough word to describe your current state.

Your boyfriend was just as much in bad shape as you were. His boss had him doing multiple errands today on top of completing his own assigned work. He only arrived home a little over an hour ago. When you heard the front door of your shared apartment gently open, you had to prevent yourself from running towards him and embracing him with all the power you had in your tiny body.

You were confident that he was probably worn out and wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. From previous experiences, sometimes your boyfriend would go straight to bed upon arrival—being too fatigued to care about eating or taking a shower even.

Although you were just as tired and in more or less words; overworked to the bone, seeing your boyfriend slumped while his dark circles grew more and more prominent every day, you mustered up enough energy to iron his clothes for the next day, prepare the clothes he’d wear to sleep, pack him a lunch and even get some of his toiletries ready if he felt like wanting to rinse off just a bit.

To your surprise, as soon as he made his way towards you—before you could even open your mouth to ask your boyfriend how his day was, his pretty, heart-shaped lips that you loved so much were fervently smashed against yours. He gave you no time in preparing yourself for what was to come next before he roughly grabbed you at your thighs and wrapped your legs around his waist.

His mouth never left yours as he led the two of you to your shared bedroom. It boggled your mind that he was giving you his full attention; gnawing and sucking on your lips while he carried you to the room without bumping in to anything or tripping on the rug. Maybe he’s gotten used to doing so since the two of you have been in this exact same scenario more times than you can count on both hands.

There were so many thoughts running through your mind and questions on the tip of your tongue—concerning the sudden affection and lust he was currently showing you, but whatever you wanted to ask him no longer mattered the second he shoved his tongue down your throat and squeezed both your ass cheeks before slapping them hard.

“Mark—babe is everything okay—“

“Work was shit—complete and utter shit. I missed you so fucking much like I do every single day I’m at that shithole and so I logged on to Snapchat and to my surprise—and delight, my beautiful girlfriend sent me a few snaps of her pretty outfit today. Don’t play innocent baby, you knew exactly what you were doing as soon as you hit send. You are well aware of the fact that I was seconds away from calling in sick this morning and fucking you in to oblivion right against the kitchen counter when you walked out in to the living room. Ah—there was so many things I wanted to say. Don’t get me wrong, you look breathtakingly beautiful in every single thing that you wear, but my dress shirt and that pencil skirt that hugs you in all the right places and leaves little to the imagination? Tsk tsk—it’s like you wanted me to rearrange your guts tonight.”

You looked at him in curiosity; it took you a few moments to pin point exactly what photos he was referring to. Since you were so busy today, you completely forgot about sneaking to the bathroom and taking a few pictures of yourself. This last week has been extremely busy for both you and your boyfriend—and so the thought of being intimate with him felt like a fever dream.

Sex with Mark had to be one of your favorite activities not only as a couple, but just in general. One thing about the older boy that you admired was the fact that he was very talented in each and every single thing he put his mind in to. Baseball, volleyball, football, golf, tennis, soccer, martial arts—it wasn’t even only sports.

Mark was exceptionally intelligent; he was one of the only people you knew that was good at both reading and math. He also could finish a Rubik’s cube in under two minutes which was quite the impossible task. Every single thing your boyfriend did never failed to impress you. However, you felt as though he was the best at blowing your mind in more ways than one.

The older boy was extremely generous; he always bought you cute little gifts that reminded him of you, he’d pay for every single date against your pleas no matter where the two of you would go, he’d sacrifice his time and work his schedule around yours so he could pick you up and drop you off wherever you needed to go. When it came to the bedroom, he always put you and your needs first. Mark always made it his main priority to make sure you came first, that you were genuinely having a good time and overall he wanted to do whatever he possibly could to make you comfortable.

Some days, he’d be so focused on eating you out that he found pleasure and got his full strictly by sucking on your pussy. If you were having a rough day, he’d prepare you a bath and get you all your favorite snacks in attempts of cheering you up but not before finding his place in between your thighs and dragging his tongue along your slit faster than you could actually handle. Mark was the king of overstimulation; one of his kinks was driving you crazy and not giving you a chance to do anything about it.

He was extremely good at sex— and his body was handcrafted by God. Every single thing about him was annoyingly perfect; he wasn’t the most muscular man but he wasn’t exactly skinny either. He had just the right amount of muscle, a six pack and he was well endowed. Although you considered penises very unattractive before you met Mark, something about his was so pretty and it always made your mouth water.

You weren’t sure if you preferred having it buried deep inside of your cunt, or filling up your throat—both felt so phenomenal. Out of all the positions you and Mark experimented in during your four year relationship, your favorites had to be doggy, missionary and the one you were currently in right now. In most of your love making sessions, Mark took the lead and dominated you—not that you ever objected.

A dominant Mark—degrading, rough, animalistic was the sexiest Mark—well, next to jealous and overprotective which usually led to the passionate and extremely freaky sex the two of you’d have. But there were times where you would take control because Mark was the definition of a switch; and something about him submitting to you and whatever you told him to always sent your mind in a frenzy.

Mark was very vocal about how he came faster whenever you would find yourself riding him specifically because watching your breasts bounce, getting to see your gorgeous face and observing your pussy swallow his cock whole—your juices coating his entire length, the sensation was lethal. His hands gripped on your waist all but gently; you might have been the one on top but your boyfriend was a powerbottom. He never allowed you to do things on your own, especially during sex.

“Nope. I’m like the energizer bunny whenever we make love. In fact, I could probably fuck you for a solid four more hours. I know sex isn’t everything in a relationship and there are so many other things I love to do with you—but damn, you’re a fucking dream y/n. We have sex almost every single day and it always feels like the first time. If you’re exhausted baby, you can get off. As much as I particularly enjoy and get off on the feeling of your ass clapping against my balls, I’m sure it’s pretty tiring.”

You had to stifle back a laugh at his choice of words; when the two of you first became intimate with one another, there was a lot of laughter and playful banter in the duration of your sexy time to which you didn’t think was normal. Then again, your relationship with Mark was never normal from the start. Your relationship was the envy of a lot of the people around you.

It’s been over four years yet somehow—maybe it was the deep, passionate love you held for one another, but you were still surprisingly in the honeymoon stage. Neither you or Mark could get enough of each other. Sometimes, whenever the two of you would tumble in to bed together, some jokes, corny pickup lines and even riddles would be thrown in while Mark would be railing you and on some occasions, he’d say things at the wrong time, but you still had so much fun nonetheless.

“I’m not too tired, I just don’t want to be immobile for the next week. My thighs are jelly and I have work in the morning. I’ve called out three times already in the last month because you fulfill your promises of wrecking me and I’m sure my boss is aware of the fact that it’s not possible for me to get food poisoning that many times within days of each other—“

“I mean, I have no regrets honestly and if I remember correctly, you’re always the one telling me to “go faster” and to “fuck me harder daddy”—ow! What? I’m just stating the facts—“

“I know, but it sounds weird when you say it.”

He playfully rolled his eyes before stealing a sloppy kiss from the corner of your mouth and motioned for you to get off of him. As much as you were reveling in his many wanton noises and lustful facial expressions, you could feel your legs giving out and you were in no position to be calling out sick again. At least not for another week or two. You let out a whine at the feeling of him slowly pulling out of you; you weren’t ashamed to say you were a huge fan of how it felt to be full of your boyfriend’s cock.

Cock warming was another favorite kink of yours. Mark on the other hand, would have to mentally prepare a few minutes prior to staying inside of you. It was hard for him to stay idle—he’s told you this many times. As much as he wanted to do whatever you asked of him and wanted to please you no matter what it was you desired, the feeling of your tight, wet and warm walls clenching around him was too much. He allowed it to happen, but not for too long. He could be the one to tap out, but a couple minutes of cockwarming could lead to another round of sex and in many cases; it did.

“What a baby, can’t even go a couple of seconds without my dick inside of her—“

“Shut up, I can go in to the bathroom and finish myself off if I wanted to—“

“We all know your fingers aren’t enough to get you seeing stars princess. And that stupid dildo you bought when I was away in Taiwan last year can’t do shit for you either.”

Thankfully, he didn’t take too long in throwing you against the bed and lining himself back at your entrance. You were seeping of your essence at this point and he swiped himself along your folds so that it would be easier for him to slip back inside. He brought his face up to your ear and his breath was hot against your jaw as he leaned in to whisper naughty words that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head in pleasure.

“Only I can bring you to sheer ecstasy. Only I can get you to see white—only I can get your head spinning. My fingers; we both know how much my fingers are one of your favorite body parts of mine.” He wrapped one hand around your neck gently, making sure to glide his thumb along your pressure point while swiping some of your juices with his index finger and bringing it up to your mouth.

“Taste yourself baby. I want you to experience the euphoria I go through whenever I eat out this pretty cunt of yours. Well—back to what I was saying, my tongue, I know exactly how to use it as we make out, when I suck on this pretty little neck of yours or when I suck the life out of your pussy—so even if you were to finger yourself like the dirty girl you are, you’ll never reach the mind blowing orgasm only I can give to you. Now, I think it’s time I teach you a lesson for speaking out against me.”

You bit your lip in anticipation for the excitement that was to come; whenever Mark would get jealous or whenever you were bratty and went against whatever he commanded you to do, that’s when he would fuck your brains out. How the two of you were still going at it with such a rapid and forceful pace had yet to really process completely in your mind, but you didn’t question it. A muttered groan fell from both your lips and his as soon as he found his place back inside of you.

Immediately, he placed his face in the crook of your neck for what you were accustomed to him trying his best not to moan loudly. He dragged his teeth along the juncture of your nape before sinking his teeth in and leaving a dark love bite in its wake.

“Mark!”

You swatted his arm once you felt the spot begin to throb. Sure, you found it extremely sexy whenever he’d mark his territory because it proved just how possessive and overprotective he was over you but at the same time, hickeys were difficult to cover up and you were confident the purple mark would be on display for your professors, classmates, coworkers, boss and clients to see.

“Sorry baby, I couldn’t help myself—I’ll help you put some makeup on it tomorrow. It’s just that—ugh, how the fuck are you always so damn tight? We have sex on a daily basis, you should be stretched out by now.”

“You men obviously don’t understand the anatomy of a woman. You’re lucky you’re attractive and very sweet, you’re lacking intelligence—“

“Hey—“

“Just fuck me already asshole.”

You didn’t have to ask him twice. He went straight in to ramming his cock in and out of you. There was no time to be soft or gentle; the two of you were just moments away from your releases. You preferred the softness and romanticism that came with making love, but right now all you could think about was how amazing it felt when the tip of his cock reached your cervix.

“Feels—“

“So fucking good.”

Your breasts were bouncing up and down with every thrust and to your delight, your boyfriend cupped one of your mounds in his hand; flicking your nipple all but gently and earning himself the sexiest growl he’s ever heard in his life. He wrapped his lips around your other breast and swirled his tongue around your nipple—bringing the nub in between his teeth and nibbling on it.

“Such pretty titties—so soft, so big—your body belongs in an art museum. You’re a masterpiece. Everything about you—I can’t even wrap my head around your beauty. You’re really a sight for sore eyes you know that?”

Slowly, you shaking my brought your palm up to his face and cupped his cheek feather lightly. You brought your free hand in to his hair and softly tugged at his curly, brown locks.

“I—I love you Mark—“

“Mmm—I love you more baby girl. So much more. Every time you say those three words, I feel like a little kid who’s crush complimented his outfit. You do wonders on my heart. What did I do to deserve you?”

Out of no where, he lifted up one of your legs and placed it on his shoulder. This position allowed him to reach deeper inside of you which you didn’t even know there was more of you for him to reach.

“Shit—shit, just like that Mark—“

“You like that baby?”

You nodded in agreement fervently; he needed to know the effect that this position was having on you. Something about having him on top of you, even if missionary was a position that most people considered boring and ordinary—you felt like you were going to burst in to flames at any moment. The sound of his pelvis clapping against your ass cheeks sounded off throughout the room. It only heightened the sexual desire that already filled up the atmosphere. His grip on your lower waist tightened as the two of you grew closer and closer to your ends.

“So tight—so wet—so perfect and all mine.”

He brought your other leg up on to his shoulder and you could fill your orgasm right at the edge. A loud moan fell from his lips and he tried to conceal it by smashing his mouth against yours, but you only felt the vibration on your tongue as he hummed in contentment.

“Mark—I can’t—it’s too much—“

“I know baby, I know. I’m almost there too. Can you hold on for just a little longer?”

With all the energy you could muster, you nodded against his chest and allowed him to reconnect your lips together; his speed was relentless and with the way the bed was creaking, you knew that there was a huge chance it would break soon and you would get yet another noise complaint. Probably the seventh one in the last month. You were secretly hoping that he was closer than you were and that he was only holding on as long as possible so you both could continue your late night romp.

Your boyfriend was a nymphomaniac; sex might not have been the most important part of your relationship, but after a long, stressful day at work, he found relief in releasing his anger and frustration on your body. Making love was even better—but it didn’t matter how the two of you were intimate, just having your skin against his and your tongue battling for dominance with his, the sensation never failed to turn his sour mood in to a much happier and lighter one.

He was happiest being one with you. Just by the way he let go of your hips to intertwine your hands together, you were confident that he was about to cum. Whenever he was at his end, he’d stop whatever he was doing to hold your hands and leaned back so that he could get a better look at you. Seeing your fucked out state; sweat dripping down your neck and chest, cheeks flushed with warmth, hair sticking to your forehead, mouth gasping for air—knowing that he was the cause behind your beautiful glow, it brought him confidence and glee.

Soon, you were being filled with his warm creamy liquid in spurts—the sensation of being full of his sperm was one that you still haven’t gotten used to. It was just that mind blowing. Your orgasm followed in suit just seconds after. It felt like a tidal wave swallowing you whole, you were drowning but in the best way. It was hard to describe; but it was a high you never wanted to come down from. You were speechless; there were no words to describe just how on top of the world you were currently feeling.

Mark called it a sex high. Whenever you and your boyfriend would find yourselves tangled in the sheets, you felt like you were in another world. Maybe it was just a high off of Mark himself. He was hot; there was no doubt about it and honestly you could stare at him all day if time permitted you to. For a couple of minutes, there was a peaceful silence.

All you wanted to do was calm your rapid heartbeat and to get your breathing under control. Mark’s heart pounded against your chest and his dick that was once hard as a rock was now soft and limp inside of your cavern—neither of you moved; he was pressed up against your breasts and his head was smashed up along your collarbone. Your mind was too hazy to really feel the stickiness of his sweaty body, but if this were under different circumstances you probably would’ve pushed him off.

Less than five minutes later, Mark leaned back enough so that he had a better view to look at you. He gently brushed back some of your hair and glided his thumb along your cheek—bringing it down to your bottom lip. The soft smile he was giving you as you placed a kiss amongst the calloused digit sent electricity through your veins. In times like these; where you were bare, not just physically but spiritually and mentally and in the comfort of your boyfriends arms, you always felt so safe—so at ease, so serene, so loved.

You might have just did something so naughty, yet you couldn’t help but blush timidly. No matter how many times the two of you relished in your love for one another, you always felt so shy with his wandering eyes gazing all along your body. Even if he’s seen you naked at least a hundred times, you still found yourself turning red under his stare.

A few sweet kisses were placed against your mouth as what you assumed was a distraction because as he began to nibble on your bottom lip, he slowly pulled himself out from your slick walls. The two of you groaned at the feeling of emptiness; you gave him a glare—upset that he pulled out so soon especially since you told him earlier that you were in the mood for cockwarming.

“Mark—“

“I know, I’m sorry baby. I just want to clean you up and get us ready for bed. I think your pussy puts me to sleep a lot more often now. But if you want to take a bath, I can go prepare one for you—“

Something about the thought of fucking Mark to exhaustion made you giggle. Especially because moments ago, he was wanting to continue having sex for much longer. “No, I don’t think I can walk you asshole. I’ll just take one in the morning before my shift. But thank you. Am I wearing you out Tuan?”

“Yes and I’m not afraid to admit it. I think five orgasms in less than two hours would do that to someone. You’re so fucking sexy and so damn good to me there’s no point in trying to conceal my feelings for the sake of my pride. I’d shout it at the top of my lungs if I had to—I’m completely whipped for you and I have every intention on keeping it that way for the rest of our lives. Now, I’ll be right back okay?”

With a couple of kisses against the corner of your mouth, he disappeared in to your bathroom. It was only natural for you to snicker to yourself at the sight of his cute little butt as he quickly walked over to get a warm wash cloth and a bottle of water. You decided to take that time to reminisce on tonight’s escapade.

Every time you thought about your love making sessions with Mark, your stomach would swarm with butterflies. In the beginning of your relationship when you were just beginning to learn more and more about each other, the sex the two of you would experiment in was exciting, fun and intoxicating—not that it wasn’t like that anymore.

But now that you were both so madly in love with one another, it was more passionate, more meaningful and a lot more desirable. You always had to be touching him and without even having to ask him, he’d always have his hands on you too. The bed sank and before you could even comprehend what was going on, a wet towel was gently being brushed along your lower body.

He first got in between your thighs, making sure to wipe up any excess cum that might have dripped from your entrance. Then he brought it up to your navel, making sure to rid visible sweat—then finally he cleaned your folds and with the way a tingling sensation began to develop, you knew he was purposely taking his time to mess around with and to get a rise out of you.

Right as you were about to whine in attempts to get him to stop, he got another washcloth and wiped your face. Mark was well aware of how your skincare was very important to you. He’d watch you take the time to put on moisturizer, toner and sunscreen on in the mornings and right before bed.

It was the little things that he recognized that made your heart swell; no matter how many times a day he’d tell you that he loved you, he professed his love just a little bit more through his actions. Once he was done, he helped you put on a clean pair of underwear and one of his t-shirts—a reoccurring act of affection he did not too long after you came down from your highs.

With a sweet kiss on your forehead, he went back in to the bathroom to prepare for bed; brushing his teeth and putting on a pair of sweatpants before taking his spot next to you under the covers. By instinct, you were pulled up against his chest and his arms snaked around your hips. He left wet kisses all along your face; making sure to steal a few pecks from your lips as he smiled against your mouth.

“That was mind blowing as always. My pretty—pretty baby, you’re so fucking perfect. What did I do to deserve you? God, I can’t believe it’s been so long since we’ve made love—“

“It’s been three days Mark—“

“Exactly. That’s a long time baby. Especially because I crave you every second of the day. I can’t get over how wonderful you are. Literally flawless. Rest up baby, once you come home tomorrow I’m having you again and again and again—“

“Oh God, how I’m not pregnant at this point is still a mystery to me. Horndog.”

He let out the most adorable little giggle while turning your body so that he was spooning you. He’s told you many times that as much as he loved being able to see your face, he was more comfortable in this position. You were confident it was because he’d get to feel your ass pressed up against his length, but you didn’t want him feeling embarrassed if that was the real reason behind. Besides, you felt so safe and protected in this position.

However, you’ve been contemplating on voicing your feelings about how nights would end right after you and your boyfriend would tap out from either exhaustion or overstimulation. Sure, you loved the cuddling and being held by him, but that was pretty much it. He’d kiss you a couple of times and then he’d say good night. If you both had even the tiniest amount of energy, you’d stay up and talk about whatever it was that your hearts desired.

You wanted to kiss him for much longer than the fleeting kisses—you fantasized about spending a little more time with his soft lips on yours. Maybe he saved the makeout sessions for the bedroom. But even during sex, the kisses were hot and wild—in the heat of the moment, but you were too busy focusing on being penetrated to really enjoy kissing him.

“Well, I mean my pullout game is the best—“

“You literally just came inside of me that’s a joke right?”

He let out a scoff of disbelief and although you couldn’t see him, he playfully rolled his eyes. “I mean, well, you know—yeah whatever. The thought of impregnating you is a huge kink of mine. You’re stuck with me for the rest of our lives. You’re going to be the best mother one day and the cutest little pregnant lady. I can’t wait to see you swollen with my baby and I’m even more impatient in finally starting a family with you. You really are the love of my life. Look at how sappy you’ve made me. Mmm, I love you, I love you, I love you. Sweet dreams my love.”

Hearing him confess all that he did about his love for you and the future the two of you had together—you couldn’t stop the smile from taking over the entirety of your face. Almost every single thing Mark said—no matter how naughty or straight up cheesy it was never failed to make your heartbeat increase. You were soon feeling silly for worrying about such a minuscule thing and you wished it could have been enough for you. Yet, the question was on the tip of your tongue; you were mentally battling with yourself.

There had to be a reason why the kissing stopped once you both reached your fill. You didn’t want to seem too clingy or overdramatic—maybe you were overthinking things. Your mind kept telling you to leave it alone and that he had his reasons, yet you couldn’t stop the tiny voice in your head that begged you to continue to pry at him. Mark looked down at you in curiosity when you turned around to face him. He lifted up your chin and furrowed his brows in confusion.

“Everything alright y/n?”

“Why don’t you kiss me more?” Your question was muffled since you were too shy to ask him out right and hid your face in the crook of his neck.

“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you—“

“I want you to kiss me more.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean? Where is this coming from baby?”

An exasperated sigh fell from your lips and you were soon regretting actually asking him the question that’s been weighing heavy on your mind for months now. It was extremely silly now that the question was actually out there but the reason why your relationship with your boyfriend had been so healthy all these years is because conversation was one of the most important keys to making sure you were both on the same page.

The last thing Mark wanted was for you to be uncomfortable or to feel as though you had to hide your feelings for his sake. Which is why you weren’t surprised to see him looking at you worriedly, waiting patently for you to go in to further detail.

“Right before we go to bed, whether it’s after sex or just once we’re done doing whatever it is after we both come home from work, you give me a few kisses and then we cuddle and fall asleep. Don’t get me wrong, I really enjoy doing those things. I just—I want more. I love kissing you if you didn’t already know that by now. Kissing you is one of my favorite activities that we do because your lips are so addicting. But we only ever passionately kiss during sex and when we make out it usually leads to love making and theres really nothing wrong with that. I just wish we could kiss without having it end up or only be during sex.”

Although the lights were off and you could barely see him, you could tell he was wearing a blank expression on his face. He continued his ministrations of gliding his fingers along your sides but he stayed silent for a few moments. You wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole; you were so embarrassed but this was your boyfriend.

He needed to know how you felt if your relationship was going to continue as beautifully as it currently was. To your surprise, he lifted up your chin and reconnected your lips together in a very passionate kiss. His hands cupped either sides of your face and he roughly nipped and sucked on your lips; leaving you breathless as he deepened the kiss further.

It was only natural for you to smile against his mouth; you were hoping you didn’t upset him and that he was only kissing you like this to please you. You were hoping he too was finding some enjoyment in kissing you right now. As his lips continued to attack yours, he took that chance to flip you on top of your back and stole a couple more kisses before sucking on your sweet spot right below your ear. This was what you wanted; it felt so wonderful and you felt even more closer to him than you felt a little over half an hour ago with his cock buried deep inside of you.

“How was that? By that gorgeous smile of yours and the way your lips are swollen I’m assuming you quite liked that.” You nodded in agreement and stole a few kisses from the corner of his mouth.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel as though I’m not interested in continuing our intimacy once we’re about to go to bed. Trust me, kissing you is my favorite thing to do with you too. You drive me fucking crazy. I’ve actually questioned myself about this numerous times too but I just assumed you were tired and I didn’t want to press you in to doing something just because I wanted to do it. Plus—“

He led your hand down to his sweatpants and your cheeks grew warm at the feeling of his hardened cock. It never failed to make you laugh seeing as how easy it was for him to grow horny at just the simplest touch. “This is why our make out sessions lead to sex and why I was hesitant about telling you that I wanted to be more intimate with you rather than the small pecks and holding you before falling asleep myself. It’s just going to lead in to another round. God, I sound like such a nymphomaniac but I’m proud to say that I am. I got a very sexy girlfriend, who could blame me for wanting to relish in our love at least once a day? Well, now that I know how you feel y/n, I would love to kiss you more. A lot more. why don’t we experiment a little tonight and see where it leads tomorrow?” You beamed up with him and with all the energy you still had left inside of you, flipped your bodies so you were on top. It obviously riled him up and the cheeky grin he was giving you sent warmth to your core.

“That sounds like a plan. Now kiss me.”

“With pleasure.”

#got7 imagines #mark tuan #got7 mark #got7 #got7 scenarios

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