#it feels like ankle weights have been taken off... i can draw again!!!!!!!!!!

[kelocitta]

Oh! So You Noticed Us?

[adrift-in-thyme]

Whumptober Day 29: "What happened to me?"

Read it on Ao3

- First

- Summary: Link becomes an uwilling pawn in a dastardy plot

CW for possession, blood and injury, mentions of death, captivity, and torture

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Everything hurts.

Link drags his eyes open, groaning as consciousness alerts him to the agony that tears him apart. The emptiness he had been drifting in had been far preferable to this.

…whatever this is.

He stands in crimson-tinged near-darkness, held up solely by the manacles around his wrists and ankles. The only light source is from the pools of lava that gurgle and bubble on either side of him. The heat that emanates from them seems to claw at him, smothering and searing. Chained as he is, he can’t escape its reach.

Link swallows, wincing as something wet trickles down his forehead and into his eye. He can’t even tell where his wounds begin and where they end. 

How had he even gotten them? He wonders, trying to force his dazed, jumbled thoughts into something coherent. And how had he ended up here?

As far as he knows, he has never set foot in this place before. It positively wreaks of dark power though, almost as suffocating as the flaming heat that burns his exposed skin and laps at the tattered remains of his tunic and trousers.

He closes his eyes, attempting to ignore the pain and let the memories he knows are there come forth. But they are stubborn things. He recalls nothing save for the abyss he had floated in, buoyed upon soft, weightless waves of light. 

It was painless there. Pleasant, almost. Save for those odd moments when he had sworn he was doing something…speaking, acting, feeling. But those moments had not been his own. Not truly. No, his life, his reality…

Ah.

He blinks his eyes open again, a grim smile on his lips. The flickering of flames upon the obsidian surface of the opposite wall seems to taunt him.

He had been dead. Felled by Demise’s lightning, torn asunder by his claws.

And as he had taken his final breaths, Hylia had sent his people to the sky.

“Link, hurry! Jump into the light! Please!”

He had wanted to. In truth, he would have given anything to take to the skies with them, make a new home, get a second chance at protecting his beloved people. But fate had not willed it so. 

Apparently, however, he is not quite off its leash just yet. Otherwise he would not be sitting here would he? In some cruel joke to the gods.

There is no rest for the wicked, he has heard some say. There is no rest for heroes either. Not the ones who failed, at least.

He should feel bitter, he supposes. All he feels is tired. It seeps in through the bloodied cracks in his skin, oozing into his bones and muscles, encompassing his soul. He sags beneath its weight.

Forgive me, Hylia. I do not know if I have the strength to face whatever trial fate has set before me.  

“So, even in this place, you dare to pray to your goddess. It will do you no good.”

The voice booms around the space, echoing off of the walls. Footsteps join in its aftermath, loud and heavy, mingling with the scrape of a door sliding open. Link raises his head.

Before him stands an all-too-familiar figure. His hair is like burning flames, his flesh the color of ash. His eyes are ablaze with the fury Link faced so long ago.  

“Demise.”

He spits the title with all the animosity he can conjure. There is no shortage of it, to be certain. It boils within him, hotter than the lava that leaps toward him. 

“I thought Hylia sealed you away. How are you here now?”

“One could ask you the same thing,” the demon god rumbles. “But you have no right to question me in the first place.”

He stalks toward him and Link tenses. 

“You are as much of a pathetic worm as you were back then.”

A clawed hand forces his chin up, nails drawing blood, hold so tight that Link grits his teeth to keep from crying out.

“I am not so pathetic as you think,” he retorts. “I defeated you back then, did I not?”

Demise laughs, actually laughs, and the earth shakes with the sound. 

“You did nothing. It was your goddess who sealed me and her sword which saved your people. Your only accomplishment was securing an untimely death for yourself.”

His expression darkens. Link meets it with an answering glare. He refused to bow before this deity back then. He refuses to now.

“However, there are ways in which you can be useful.”

He turns away. A short distance away there sits a large throne, shrouded in shadow, and adorned with carved depictions of people writhing in agony. An enormous claymore rests against it and Demise scoops it up as though holding it is no feat at all. He runs a finger across its ridged edges and Link feels his breath stutter. 

“You won’t kill me again so soon,” he says, steady tone belying the terrified turmoil within.

“No, I will not do that.” Demise walks back to him. Lifting the weapon, he presses the tip of it against Link’s neck. “Only humans kill indiscriminately.”

Link swallows, feeling the chill of cold metal on his skin. It is almost unnatural amidst all this heat.

“You may say that. But you certainly killed indiscriminately during the war. What of all the people you slaughtered in your attempt at bringing about a world of darkness?”

“You misunderstand, pitiful human,” he snarls. “I take as many lives as I wish. But I take them with purpose.”

He presses the blade closer. It bites mercilessly into Link’s flesh. Blood bubbles up beneath it. 

“Know this. I threaten with purpose, as well. I have use for you and you will fulfill it.”

“No. I won’t.”

The blade bites harder. Link clenches his hands into fists. The pain within him is an unending rhythm. The heat smothers him. But he won’t back down. He won’t surrender. Whatever this demon god wants, he refuses to give it to him.

“No is not an answer you give to a god, fool.”

Suddenly, his body lights up with agony. Link arches back, a strangled scream breaking free. Flames sear through his very bones, fire courses through his veins. All he can see is red. 

And then, just as quickly, it’s over. He sags against his chains, gasping for breath.

“There are nine heroes. Nine men and boys like yourself.”

He blinks, dazedly trying to comprehend Demise’s words.

“N-nine?” Link raises his head, hardly registering the absence of the blade. “There should…should only be one. Me.”

Again, Demise’s laughter fills the cavernous space. 

“The failure you and your goddess share has haunted many, boy. These nine possess your spirit. I wish for them to be wiped from history itself.” 

He hefts the weapon in his hand, regarding it calmly. Link stares dimly at it. Thoughts tumble through his mind in a panicked race to be heard. 

Nine heroes with his spirit. A failure that doomed them all. Demise standing before him now. 

The seal broke. It must have. And he hadn’t been there to recreate it.

…neither had Hylia.

No.

Link’s eyes widen. 

He remembers bits and pieces of his last moments. Words spoken in soft tones. Broken messages that hadn’t seemed important in the face of death.

“I…shed divinity…simple human.”

He chokes on a cry.

Hylia, what did you do?

“My servants attempted to do the deed,” Demise is saying now, as though his previous words are not fit to destroy Link completely. “But they failed. Every one of them.”

Flaming irises skewer him. He is like a fairy trapped in the bottle of an unsavory person – helpless, terrified. 

“You will not.”

Link bares his teeth in a snarl. A mixture of terror and guilt and hopelessness, he has found, quickly becomes rage in the heart of a warrior. It fills him now, blinding him to the pain, to the sorrow, dragging him from the depths like a wild animal struggling against the walls of its cage.

“What…what makes you assume I will do your bidding? You may have dragged me back from the land of the dead, but I have no goodwill in my heart towards you for it.” 

He cocks his head, a harsh grin splitting his lips. Every word tastes like ash and blood in his mouth, an outpouring of the fires of battle roaring in his soul.

“Or perhaps you think you can intimidate me because my goddess is gone and my people with her? I assure you, I am well accustomed to facing terrors alone. Your idle threats don’t frighten me.”

“You dare speak to a god in such a manner, insolent human?” Demise practically looms over him, all flaming power and dark magic. He steps closer and his meaty fist closes around Link’s neck. He chokes, gasping as agony streaks up his throat and a skull-crushing rush fills his ears. “You will find that my threats are anything but idle. You will do my bidding.”

He leans in, heedless of Link’s thrashing and clawing. 

“You will do it because I will make you. Open your mind, little human, and let me in.”

Link’s eyes blow wide with panic. His attempts to break free grow impossibly more desperate as the reality of what Demise is about to do strikes home. 

He can’t possibly resist a god’s attempts to make him an unwilling, unthinking pawn. He isn’t strong enough. Especially not now, after everything. 

I could not even slay him the first time. By the gods, I failed so completely that I burdened nine with the task that was meant only for me. 

How on earth can I hold him back now?

He lifts his eyes to the heavens, tears of pain and desperation burning in them. 

If you hear me, Hylia, help me! Give me the strength to…

His thoughts shatter. It comes at him in a rush of roaring power, thundering into his mind like an oncoming tsunami. And at the same time his body ignites again with searing agony. His world dissolves into a hellish haze of inescapable pain.

He thinks he screams. At least, that must be the terrible sound that echoes in his ears and tears at his throat. But he can’t be sure. He can’t be sure of anything really. Suddenly, everything is upside down and sideways and a swirl of hazy, nauseating confusion.

“You are strong,” someone sneers and he hardly understands the words. “It sickens me. Fall before me, Chosen Hero of the Goddess. Become my puppet.”

Everything intensifies. Colors explode before his eyes, memories rush by at incomprehensible speeds – his own and those he has never seen before, that don’t even belong in his mind. Desires snake into his heart, his limbs grow heavy, his body unnaturally cold. 

He screams again, but this time it is more pitiful, more weak – a last ditch attempt to protest what distantly, he knows is coming. 

“Yes.” Demise’s face is inches from his. Abruptly, he can make it out with striking clarity. “You are mine.”

Link chokes on a sob.

I’m sorry. 

He doesn’t even remember who he is apologizing to anymore. Or what he was doing here. Or why everything hurts so badly.

But he doesn’t need to. Not really. Because in the next moment, everything falls away. 

Between one strangled, gasping, desperate breath and the next, he loses himself.

[phonkscribes]

Look what the cat dragged in.

You've been running for so long that your legs can't support the weight that's been placed upon them. You ran away from home, can't remember what stupid reason it was that you decided to bail and jump cities, but you're in Redgrave now, which isn't exactly the safest place for a youngster like you. You can fight sure, but you've only ever fought people, not demons. Luckily, you're saved by a hunter in a red jacket who takes you in before it storms.

ft. Dante & a runaway GN! Reader. Warnings in tags.

It had stalked you throughout the day. Hiding amongst the people like a wolf in a sheep’s hyde, its teeth drawn in a yellowed grin as it licked its chops. What could’ve possibly been so appetizing about you anyways, what, with how skinny you’ve gotten over the days. Running has never felt easier with how often you’ve been doing it ever since you ran away. Normally this wouldn’t have been much of an issue, let alone a problem if it weren’t for a few things. 

One, you didn’t get to eat today… at all. You’d ran into a silver haired asshole earlier who made you drop all the food you’d stolen from the corner store, having to forsake it all or let yourself get taken by the onlookers and shop keep. Two, in your scuffle, you’d sprained your ankle when doing a little bit of parkour. You’d been walking on it all day, not that you had anywhere to rest where you weren’t chased immediately after your stunt from the morning or told to go away because of how badly you smelled. At the very least, you weren’t defenseless. 

Armed with a lead pipe you nicked off a construction site, you held it out in front of you, daring the demon to try and come at you. Your eyes flared and you bared your own teeth, having only your canines to brandish like the gums full of knives that your foe had crammed into his face. One would shudder to think what it would feel like if it clamped down on you. It’d certainly put an end to your little game. You imagine your parents would be relieved to find that their burden was finally dead and gone. 

Finally, when it’s done circling around you, it lunges, you roll to the side, as it misses and immediately goes to make a follow up attack. Your hands move the pipe in front of you to keep the mangled claws from swiping at your trunk. You grunt, the force pushing you back on your bad leg as another hand knocks it out of your grasp. The devil makes a laughing sound, a throaty growl in its throat as it comes down on you. The fear of dying keeps you from giving in, sticking your arm out for it to bite down on instead of the soft meat of your neck. 

It hurts, a lot. 

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that it even broke your forearm in two. Its jaws crushing your skin and breaking your flesh with ease, you let out a roar as you get your feet under it and launch it over your head. The pavement is coated in scarlet, your blood spraying your own face in the process as you manage to get it off. It feels like you’ve dipped it in fire, the warmth creeping up as you look for the pipe on the ground. It sees where you’re looking, and you make a dash for it. 

“We’re so proud of you”, your mother chuckles as you look up into her eyes. You’re showing her something, you remember it was a drawing you made of your family. 

Your fingers grasp the rusty pipe, squeezing so tightly that your knuckles burn white, you whip away before you can be tackled again. Why? Why are you thinking about those things right now? You weren’t going back, you’d made up your mind. You wouldn’t be making it back… and maybe that disturbs you more than you’d like to admit. The devil laps the ground where you’d spilled your essence, delighting in the way that you taste as its beady eyes bore into your own. 

You’re so tired… you’re so hungry…

“Your mother and I will always love you, no matter what”, your father pulls you into a hug, smiling as you wrap your little arms around him. He was always saying things like that. When… where did it go wrong for you? 

You swing the pipe, a crack echoes as you strike the devil in the jaw, dislodging it from its head. It snarls as you take another swing, raising it over your head and striking down as hard as you can. Your hands are shaking, the adrenaline is sharp in your heart but it’s petering out. A gasp leaves you, as the momentum causes you to drop your weapon. Hopefully that’ll be enough. That’ll be enough and you can run away again. Again. 

That’s all you’re good at, isn’t it? 

When things get tough, all you’re good at is packing up your things and leaving. Is that why you left your mom and your dad? Is that why you left your loving home to die out here? 

Tears sting your eyes as you go, looking for a route, eyes scaling the roads. The word help is trapped behind the lump in your throat as you gasp. It wouldn’t be long until it catches up to you. Even if you hid, you still had to deal with your arm, and you couldn’t get the trails of red to stop. You’d be found… dead. No one would want to help you, not when you’ve made as many enemies as you have. You left that all behind when you ran away. 

Open your eyes and see reality. The sky darkens to a dark gray, the air feels cold, like needles stabbing at your lungs with each breath. Suddenly it’s something you are without, you look behind you when you see it galloping after you. It feels so… slow. Time is crawling to a stop as you stagger backwards, falling onto your ass as you look up into death’s eyes. You thought you’d be greeted by a much gentler end, something kind and comforting. Maybe you deserve this, for all the trouble you’ve made for everyone you’ve ever met. 

Are you so pathetic?

Are you so pathetic that you’d accept that? 

Red blinds your view, obscuring all and everything in a matter of seconds. Is that all you have to offer? Is that all you have to give? A screech echoes the solemn air, a shiver rakes itself across your body as the figure before you brings a sword up to rest on his shoulders comfortably. He has silver hair, nearly white compared to the clouds, and he smiles. When he sheathed his blade, he turned on his heel to look down at you, about to offer a hand when he sees the state yours is in. The man winces, knowing that it’s got to hurt. 

His mouth moves but you don’t hear what he says as he crouches down to pick you up, cradling you in his arms as he starts to walk down the street. Warmth spills down your cheeks, you can recognize that you’re crying and that these are tears. You know who this is, you’ve met him before, albeit indirectly. This is the bastard that cost you your meal… and saved your life. You’ll know that you’ll owe him. As you’re carried, you fail to notice the scenery change, how the bleak city streets have become much darker as he steps inside a building. 

This must be his home, and as he sets you down in a chair, he walks off to go and grab something. A box, a first aid kit. He starts to tend to your wounds, that’s when you refocus. The blank stare you held before shifts onto his face, then his hands as he takes your arm into his. His hands are big, rough and calloused, like he’s done a lot of fighting in his time. Though he’s surprisingly gentle, he looks up at you, waiting for you to say something. When you don’t he talks to fill in the silence. 

“You know you're a pretty tough kid. This is gonna sting a little, but lemme know if it’s too much, ‘kay?”, he has this certain way of talking that feels familiar. There’s a weird sense of nostalgia that makes you shake even as he starts to clean up the area and disinfect things. The sting has you grasping your knee with your free hand, squeezing it enough for him to take notice and stops. 

“Keep going. I can take it”

“Uh-huh… take a deep breath with me. Like this”

“I know how to breathe, just shut up and finish”

He makes a face, as if to say ‘okay…’, but he’s worried for you. You train your gaze to something else, focusing on the wall and glaring into it as you try to keep a straight face. You’ve been doing it so much that the mask is starting to slip off, falling to the metaphorical floor with a clatter. Your brow furrows, your eyes twitch, and worst of all your lip quivers. It hurts so bad, and you try to suck in a couple of breaths just so that you don’t make a sound. You didn’t want another reason to cry, the panic starting to creep up behind your eyes like roots from a weed. It really hurts him to see you trying to act so brave. 

He manages to stitch you up, tossing what bloody napkins he used to clean the wound to the side, even if he knows his brother or his other friends are going to get on him about it later. That would be a problem for later. Currently, he had bigger fish to fry. Your eyes have managed to dry, though are a puffy red now as you stare at the wall. He pulls out a chair and flips it around before taking a seat in front of you. 

“So… what’s your story?”, he asks, offering a friendly smile. 

“...”

“Not much of a talker, eh? That’s alright. My name’s Dante by the way, just so we can get that off the record. You hungry? I bet’cha are”, he gives your foot a little nudge to try and be funny but he accidentally brushes the ankle you sprained and pulls you from your silent treatment. 

“Oh shit- sorry–”

“It’s fine”, you say, “Thank you… for saving me”, the way you say it makes it sound like you’re being scolded. 

“Heyyyy don’t worry about it, it’s kinda what I do”, he says with a shrug. 

Dante gets up to head to the fridge to open it up and pull something out, a pizza box. He brings it to the table and drops it in front of the two of you. Your stomach growls at the sight of it. You tentatively reach for it, but stop halfway, uncertain if you should. The older man opens it and takes a cold slice out and bites into it, chewing appreciatively. You look at him as he just smiles at you, as if this was a totally normal occurrence, as if he hadn’t just picked you off the street like some kind of stray. You frown but can’t help but to chuckle and finally allow yourself to have a bite to eat. 

You take a slice in your hand and part your chapped lips to have a bite, practically drooling as you tear into it with your teeth. The rain patters against the roof and windows of the old building, and you pause to look outside as you chew and eat with Dante. You would’ve spent it out there had it not been for him, cold and starving. You’re grateful, happy to be here and just about ready to cry again. He looks at you for a moment, knowing that you’ve had a real rough journey. The hunter gets up and makes his way over to the fridge again, grabbing a soda for the two of you before pointing at the box thoughtfully. 

“I should probably heat that up for you, it’ll taste better if it’s warm y’know. Oh! And here, to wash it down with”, he places the can down beside you as you just stare up at him in awe. You can’t believe that any part of this is real as you shake your head and chew, liking it how it is now. He nods, being the same way. 

He leaves you be, guessing you’d probably be easier without him in the room as he decides to go and bring a pillow and blanket up from his room to let you crash on the couch. There’s no way in hell he’d let you back out on the streets. It felt like an obligation, like he had to. At least until you were strong enough to get back on your feet. He’s got your space all nice and prepared, making the pillow all fluffed up and nice. When Dante steps back into the kitchen to check on you, you’re slumped over the table. You’re not dead, he knew that much, but he couldn’t help but to sort of look on at you in awe. 

It was safe to say that he’d have to order another pizza for himself for dinner. 

“Upsie daisies”, he mutters to himself when he hoists you up and carries you over to the couch to set you down. You’re so sound asleep, and he’s careful not to disturb your banged up leg and arm. 

He sets you down and pulls the blanket over you, like a dirty burrito. When you’d wake up you could take a bath and get washed up, maybe have some more food. It’s kind of astounding how skinny you were, just skin and bones really. He watches you for a moment, reaching over to ruffle your hair as he walks off to go and finally clean up the kitchen for once. One of the rare times he ever bothers to do such a thing. 

[kakubun]

itching hands

pairings: bonten x chubby!reader

a/n: this was supposed be for december but i'm impatient🕴

warnings: suggestive, bonten

life with bonten series

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these men will bark at you if you ever had the time to be insecure about yourself

hold on tight to your seat cause i'm sure these executives won't let you

especially these easter egg mfs, you never know what's in each of these peoples' minds

sanzu

he lets a lot of things slip from his mind and specially his comments about you

he ranges from thirsty to intense staring at any part of your body where if i say so, it's gonna be a lot more pg

eventhough he's weirdly obsessive of how you look, he means good! it's just that his lameo ass can't say or spell it out to you without sounding like a pervert

he enters your apartment in search of any of the haitani brothers to pick up their report on the last mission and maybe you so he could easily find the two since they always muted their phones when busy.

at first, he wanted to reward himself with a little something since he did a little running around here and there, why not look into your fridge? he slowly opened it because of instinct and almost fell on his knees when he saw sweet cakes topped with icing. he reached out to it as if it's begging for him to just eat it up and he drooled with how soft it looked but a grab to his wrist startled him when he looked at the person in alarm, a quirk of your eyebrows immediately lead him to explain what he's here for.

"uh searching for haitani- by the way can i eat that-" you wiped his drool that ran down his chin with a tissue hastily, in full exaggeration the bright pink haired man is an absolute sweet tooth. he finally let his eyes set on you and he looked comedic with his wide eyes when he looked down at your soft thighs in the comfy shorts you wore.

you ignored his staring and sighed, pointing to the label of the sweet cake which had rindou's name on it but you changed your mind due to said man pouting and took out the cake and peeled off the label, offering to sanzu who drooled again but he doesn't know what's his drooling for anymore (rindou can always order another cake anyways). you closed the fridge and stretched, moving into the living room to lay on the sofa.

he felt content with his dessert, all he needed was a place to sit and he just felt that the perfect place was between, between, man he couldn't help it but stare at plushiness of your thighs. he wanted to bite it.

"can i lay myself between your thighs?"

a silent staring contest was held maybe, if people were to walk in at the moment but with a smirk you patted yourself.

"go ahead darling"

after a while

"y/n did you ate my cake!?" rindou gruffly yelled out and he didn't know what did he just walked into, you brushing and massaging sanzu's head while he hums and kisses up your thighs with the empty plate near his feet and rindou massaged his temples to not drag the male between your thighs into a body bag.

but he failed so sorry sanzu.

ran walked in with an amused stare when sanzu haven't noticed them yet and y/n laughed to rindou who was starting to march up to sanzu to grab both his ankles.

ran lazily stumbled to the sofa with his legs spread while watching whatever the hell the two were doing when sanzu finally woke up from his fantasies, fly high sanzu🕊🕊

ran leaned in to whisper to you when you secretly recorded the fight, asking why you finally offered sanzu a place to lay when you didn't let him lay between when he asked you so many times. you looked over at him with your mischevious eyes and he knows damn well he needs to do more than just asking.

extra!!:

"WAAAHH Y/N THEY BULLIED ME !!" you don't if sanzu's faking his loud crying or not with tears begin to slip past his cheek when he pointed at the haitanis and rindou had no shame in admitting what he done when his older brother blinked in confusion.

you tried to hold in any chortles or laughter coming out because the pink boy had his worst when rindou bent his leg over his head while muttering how he should've killed sanzu from day one. you held out your arms and he immediately flopped you to the coach when he pushed and smothered into your scent.

the haitanis still don't why you adore that crazed man baby who likes killing people and making them confess their crimes, you said you found it really annoyingly cute that's why you had haru in your arms who nibbled on you like a baby.

just hope that the treatment with haru doesn't go on and on and you actually do something about it instead of kissing his tears away and cuddled with him.

kakucho

he feels disrespectful to how much staring he does to you on a daily basis

the way you walk, your hips popping and the curve of your hip dips makes him go crazy

he wonders if he could just hold onto your waist or just touch onto your hips, he might faint touching the roughness of your stretch marks as if he's been blessed by pure heaven

he's obsessed with how you present yourself to the others

if only he was a little more bolder, he could admire it closer if he just asked (?)

"have you taken an interest in y/n, kaku?" ran's eyes glanced at kakucho's hard staring at your crossed legs and he stopped, scoffing at ran's word but the older haitani had a plan up his sleeves.

y/n sat nearby kokonoi's table doing their own thing, looking like a sweet thing that had kakucho's glued on them that ran couldn't help pointing it out and it didn't help kakucho's poor heart when mikey suddenly interrupted the conversation.

"kakucho, please assist y/n on where's they want to go at the moment" it made kakucho perk up, startled by the sudden job of bodyguard and he looked back at ran who winked at him. no no no this isn't what he wanted, what was he planning?

it's annoying on how this puppy crush of his grew even more worse, your whole personality draws him towards you, making him feel like a kid again because of how nonchalant you are with him. he felt laidback being with you is like the calm after a storm with his work and shenanigans in bonten.

he watched from a distance when you looked over the things on your list, kakucho also gathered some of the things you wanted into a little basket and cancelling some out so you didn't have to get them anymore and you thanked him with your pretty smile.

he scanned the area around him and held himself back from punching when this one creepo think they're being sleak with how they kept eyeing you, kakucho either think he was a pick pocket or a flirt but he kept a good metres away from him to see what he was doing but he was ready to turn towards you if they got any closer.

you turned towards kakucho, waving your hand to come to you and he immediately went, feeling more pissed off towards the person creeping in on you slowly but he felt your rough palm on the skin of his wrist wrapping it around your waist. he unconsciously squeezed around you, pulling you close as he shot a nasty glare towards the person who backed off, seeing the intense look from the half blind which they didn't dare messing with.

you both walk away, heading towards the counter as you laughed behind the palm of you hand; still in position of kakucho tightly holding onto your waist where he panicked when he realized how hard he's latching onto you.

"hah~ you're so-"

still choking on your laughter, he akwardly shuffles to the side in embarassment and it added more fuel to the fire when he remembered how he held your waist and he excused himself before combusting in front of you and went away for a few seconds.

you have to say but you gotta thank ran for this plan, even if the creepo appeared out of nowhere, atleast you got to see how bonten nunber 3 reacts to his dream coming true~

kokonoi

he mostly admires you in silence and gets distracted if he ever talks to somebody

just his eyes trailing down every curve on your body and just daydreams about them (as in like cuddling pls)

the other executives would notice how his eyes are always on you in every meeting youre in and would tease him about it when you leave the room like ran would comment 'so thats where your head was this whole time hm?'

kokonoi love your pictures, he feels creepy stalking your pictures but he can't help but gush into the palm of his hand of your stunning you look, you make him faint whenever you had suprise pictures of you in dresses and he feel like his whole body is on fire.

ran taps the head of his pen to the temple of kokonoi's head and he slams his phone down and put on a poker face, it faltering when he clenched his teeth already knowing what's coming. ran sneered to how much of a simp he was and flicked the back of his head, pointing towards the door of his office; telling him any moment you're gonna come by and koko swats his hand away, knowing the haitani was just teasing him but his eyes nearly bulged out when you actually swung by.

all sleepy and dreamy like, his heart getting squeezed and the older haitani patting you towards koko who unexpectantly had you in your lap, your weight tapping him out of his daydreams as you hugged him tighter.

"my my, tired baby ain't ya?" he put on his proper poker face he got from the back of his desk, trying not to falter when you sleepily ranted on how work was terribly tiring and he patted your back shakily, not wanting to push you off due to extreme nervousness. he joked with you telling that he could just pay you easily if you work under him and you pushed his chest with your head bonk .

"ywou drhon just-mphm-hrmm" him heating up to how close with you works because he was the best heat warmer you could ask for, he felt bad for moving you to the coach but he just needed a comfortable position for you sleep in because you sitting on him? naaah, he's a puddle by the end of it.

the urge to take a picture was really strong so he took out his phone and angle his phone down to catch your drool slipping out of you and smiled feverishly to how dorky you looked.

koko felt like he could fuck up more of his feelings staring at your sleeping face, he rubbed his finger on your fat cheek you smooshed onto the coach and shifted a little in your sleep to adjust the blanket more closer to you. koko's touches were hesitant, didn't want to be a pervert when all he did was touch your soft cheek.

he wanted to just hold you close to his chest and have you against him but his prickling anxiety said otherwise, his awful thoughts and stubborness entertaining the shit out of him. you nearly give him a heart attack when one of your eyes open when he wanted to take his second picture and you latched onto his wrist. koko squawked and you couldn't help but burst out in guffaws to how panicked he looked when you caught him.

if anyone saw this scene, koko surely would die of embarassment and he'll dig his grave himself but unfortunely he will eventually when the blinking red of somebody's recording was capturing every moment of it.

haitani brothers

the duo who makes you nervous with their hard stares on you

these two are also pretty touchy so it's dangerous when they're handsy with one of your body parts

rindou are obsessed with your chubbiness, poking it just to see his finger bounce back; comedically

he loves being close with you because you're so squishy??? the type of guy who plays with your squishiness like you're a stress toy and holds himself back from biting

you're the greatest fridge or heat bag on the off days he haves, just wrapped up in blankets and you makes him sleep like a baby

as discussed earlier, ran wants to his head between your thighs; don't be suprised when one day he felt like he should get killed by them and you reject his acceptance towards death

he's a leg man and likes sleeping on your lap or kissing them or he just does anything with them (if you don't mind)

you just gotta remember these two are menaces right next to sanzu cause they'll bother you about it like forever if they can

after seeing the endless babying of sanzu, rindou turns to his brother who was lost in his thoughts and tapped his shoulder with the back of his hand. he lifted his eybrow, needing a response to how quiet he became and ran gave him a sly smile.

"you look at y/n like you wanna eat them up" ran shrugged, placing his elbow on rindou's shoulder as he slipped a comment on how he can eat y/n in other ways while rindou scrunched up in disgust. sanzu then emerged right next to rindou, telling them to give their report; damn well distracted when you started brushing and massaging his head a few moments ago.

rindou pointed towards the window, telling sanzu to fetch the files in his car while 'lightly' threatening him to buy another cake for him and the pink haired boy waved him off as if his threatening didn't give him flashbacks to how rindou almost squeezed his organs out of his ribcage when he looked at the empty plate.

when sanzu disappeared out of the house, rindou pulled you by the waist and onto his lap. squeezing your fat and kissing up your neck, he grazed a sweet spot but you swatted him telling him what's gotten into him. ran lay his head on your lap and looked like a satisfied brat when you look back at him then his brother all confused like.

rindou couldn't spare anymore time so he whispered in your ear, telling how much of a nuisance his older brother was and pleaded you to let him do what he wished to do. ran quirked his eyebrows, leaning up to kiss you while you teased him more by placing a finger on his lips.

"using your brother as a way to get me to do your thing instead of asking me in the nicest way? how cruel haitani, don't you know how torturous it is for your brother to put up with you?"

he smirks, knowing how much of a tease you were and feigned his sigh. rindou clamped his hands over this ears to not hear whatever the hell is this and tilted his head comfortably on your neck.

you shifted off rindou's lap, letting the man going after your sweet self place his head on your tummy as he happily shifts himself to a tiny nap to wait for sanzu to get back from whatever he got himself into because they could hear him shouting at the phone when he was unlocking the car door.

you looked over at rindou and placed a finger on your lips, smiling with your eyes closed when you don't want to disturb his sleeping brother in bliss.

ran just doesn't need to know rindou had his many turns sleeping with you this week compared to him~

mikey

he likes sleeping on you, his titled pillow he seeks for at the end of the day

he usually goes to you whenever he has a hard time sleeping and you try your best to advice him on how he should take care od his eyebags and weak body

he likes listening to your whispering before he goes to sleep so he asks you to talk more (command maybe)

"mikey..?"

"mph?"

"please i need to get up"

he uses your entire body as a pillow to swing his leg over ._. . from the very start, he makes you worried that you might've done or said something wrong to him but his thoughts were completely filled with how he can melt into you and be a handy pillow for him if he can't sleep easily.

to break the ice of what he thinks of you, you hummed quietly and awfully close to him on why he was staring at you but he completley dodges the question, rather he wants to show you why he's staring so he asks if he can touch you. he was uo close and personal on the first into with you but he didn't have bad intentions.. because afterwards you were legit cradling him.

sanzu was raising his eyebrows teasingly when their boss was sound asleep on your shoulder and you run your hands to his hair while glaring at sanzu to not make any noise. kakucho tried putting a straight face on but it's complelety leaving him when he heard his boss sleep talk.

he was babbling nonsense to you which you tried to reply to him but his mouth was jammed shut because there was some point where he got mad at you for not replying and sanzu was rolling on the floor and kakucho had to walk out to laugh with sanzu, dragging the pink hair out of the office. you cooed at him to relax instead of thrashing back and forth and he stopped, planting his face into your neck which makes you feel really tickled.

you're just grateful he's getting some sleep and you kissed him good night and a faint smile shows up on his face when you hugged him tight.

(and the other executives in the other room cracking up about mikey and you NSBJSBD)

akashi

he likes carrying you, stealing you away from the other executive when they're disturbing you

you can't feel insecure with this man because he was the dirtiest way with his words that he whispers to you that can turn any guy or girl red

he'll surely gouge out any prying eyes that mock or stare at you for too long

"why cat got your tongue?" your mouth agape when he was busy doing pushups on the mat and his back muscles flex even more when you came by, the smirk on his face didn't help making you flustered while you sat near him. panicking on the inside, he stopped for a water break and sat next to you.

you prayed to not shake so visibly becaue this hot ass man right now makes you lose all sense of human nature with how big he was, he placed his bottle down and shifted closer to you. bending down a little to arch his back to crack a little, he said he needed you on his back for his pushups. he can easily see the confusion you had on your face and he chuckled, getting up to begin and he usher you to start climbing on his back.

"cmonnn~ i'm strong, you're afraid i'll drop you?"

this man wanted a death wish but you think you'll die first because of how much of a tease he was, his back was kinda comfortable so you tugged on him like a koala, he called you needy and he says he's right you'll enjoy it. enjoy what exactly? too scared to ask this man because of the potential of a heart attack.

it becomes a daily thing to be honest, just having you on his back to flex off his strength that you were impressed that he didn't break and kept his composure. he held you close or carries you on his back cause he wants to, running away from the others who were fighting over you.he was a dangerous man because he could easily take your breath away with how secretive he is.

heck, i think he just did.

tag tag: @lucylicious , @turksueme , @haruchyio , @fyotituti , @coconois , @gyros-cum-sock , @ashrakat-lovesbaji , @dragon-chica

[gucciwins]

your future

finally time to find your pleasing

Word count: 3679

A/N: hi friends! small chapter but it's sweet. pleasing was such a surprise and i felt it needed to be included even just a small moment. i do hope you continue reading, some good moments are approaching in the next coming chapters.

please remember to reblog! let me know what you thought!

warnings: smut, male receiving

love on tour series // previous part

Glendale, Arizona

“This isn’t fun.”

“Bel, I’m literally—”

“—not you.”

He lets out a breath against you, making you tense up, “you’re throwing off my game.”

You laugh, feeling him crawling up, pressing kiss after kiss to your naked skin until he reaches your lips.

“I meant this heat. Sorry, you wanted the balcony open, and now the AC is off,” you ramble on as he tries to distract you with his lips.

“I’ll close it then.”

“Good, I didn’t want to get up to do it.”

“All this ignoring me as if I haven’t been trying my best to get a reaction out of you.”

You see the outline of his sweats and know he’s been wonderful, but all you focused on was the heat from outside and not the heat he was bringing you.

“Well, I like air conditioning. Sue me, boyfriend.” Harry rolls his eyes, getting off you to shut the doors. “Your moves are good,” you assure him.

He sends you a glare as he makes his way back over. “You’re not being nice.”

“Well, someone woke us up at the ass crack of dawn to work out.”

Harry mocks offense, “who did that? Should I fight him? I think I can take him.”

You bring your finger to your lips, thinking about it seriously for a second, “nah, look a little lean compared to him.”

“That’s it.” Harry jumps on you, tickling your sides as you try to squirm away from him. “Stop, stop, get away.”

Harry drops his weight on top of you, trapping you, “nope, not until you say you love me.”

You look up at him, the smirk wide on his face. “Te amo.”

He freezes, and you take the moment as an advantage to flip him, now straddling him. You smile down at him.

“Good enough?”

“Perfect.” He placed both his hands on either side of your face brushing your hair back studying your face. You gazed into his eyes. “You’re incredible. I love you.” He said in a whisper. His thumb brushing your bottom lip. You opened your mouth and licked his thumb, drawing it into your mouth to duck on it. And tilt your head leaning it into his hand. Harry groaned softly and lifted his hips, pressing his hard cock against you slightly.

Harry rolled you over, so he was on top again, and you let him take control. He caressed your face and gently kissed it.

He was tired of wasting time and leaned in to suck your nipple once and the cool air from the room on the wetness he left made your nipple hard. He brushed his finger over it lightly as he kissed your neck.

“Ready, sweetheart?”

You hum, “always, amor.”

Harry moves off the best to remove his sweats, and you can’t help but follow him. As he stands close to the edge of the bed, you lean forward, bringing Harry in closer to you. You brought him into your mouth, gripping his ass with your hands. You feel his body tighten in response to your warm mouth. Harry’s hands reach down to hold your hair back as he thrusts into your mouth lightly.

“Fuck,” Harry moans out into the room.

You grabbed it by the base and put one of his balls in your mouth, and hummed while stroking him up and down with your other hand.

“Baby,” Harry pulled you away gently, having to take a deep breath as he looked down at you, licking your lips.

“I was having fun,” you pout.

“I almost came, baby.”

You cross your ankles as you gaze up at Harry, “think I didn’t want that?” You lean in to take him again, but he stops you.

“No, fuck. You feel too good, don’t want to come yet.” He sat resting against the headrest. “Sit on my lap, baby.”

You sit up with glee, eager for the pleasure you’re about to surround yourself with. Harry, as always, has taken care of the condom. Fuck. You can’t even think of the day you decide to go bare. That’s a thought for another day.

You lower yourself onto his cock slowly. Lightly moaning into his shoulder as you take him in. You sit there on the bed, legs crossed behind one another as you rock slowly against each other. The caresses were light and down all over. Whispered, I love you behind every kiss. Your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders as you kissed him harder, grinding into him deeper.

“Close, so close, amor.” Harry gently pressed on your clit and rocked into you. That was all you needed to overcome with pleasure.

You leaned all your weight on him as you relaxed. The tight pulsing sent Harry over the edge as he gripped your hips tightly as he came around you. His face nestled into your neck, biting softly.

After a few moments, both of you have caught your breath. You leaned back, looking into Harry’s mesmerizing green eyes. He was flushed and lips plush, and you couldn’t help but steal another kiss.

“Shower?” You brush the damp curls back and kiss his forehead. Harry smiled, bent his head to rest on your chest, and stood up, still connected.

You knew you were going to be in for a fun shower.

Home of the Coyotes, Gila River Arena. All these arenas seemed to be hockey-owned, each the home of a team. You wondered honestly how long it’d take you to learn the roles and how much harder it could be than football…all those rules are pointless, nothing making sense.

You’d have to go see a hockey game sometime soon when their season began. If the stage Harry sang on was made this beautiful, you were curious how they got ice there. You were even more curious how the Zamboni glided on the ice to make it shine bright as new.

Sighing, you shake your head, knowing you’re getting off-topic and distracting yourself because there’s something you need to speak with Harry about.

You take a sip of your water before turning your attention to Harry.

“H, when we’re in LA—”

“—I’m excited, see some friends and get to stay in my house. We’ll do some cooking and lounging. Take you to the studio.”

“As wonderful as that sounds, I’ve got to work.”

“You’re filming?”

“No.”

“Photoshoot?”

“Harry, stop guessing.”

He pauses, looking sheepish, “sorry, go on, love.”

“I’ve been enjoying tour and having all this freedom, but I’m also feeling stuck not doing much.”

“Oh, Bel.”

“I didn’t tell you because there was nothing you could do.” Harry’s frown depends, “you couldn’t stick me in front of a camera to act, not really.”

He chuckles, “right.”

“So I called Viola to see if she could find me something…anything.”

“And what did she find?”

“Well, I won’t be getting paid,” you joke.

Harry giggles, “Bel, darling.”

“I’m going to be shadowing a director. He’s a friend. Get to learn more, but be back in my environment,” you emphasize.

You know Harry and hope he doesn’t take offense. And to no surprise, he hugs you tight, showering you in kisses.

“That’s brilliant.”

“You think so?”

“Yes.” He kisses your lips as you laugh against him. “Who are you shadowing?”

“Alfonso Cuarón.”

Harry takes a minute to process to see if he knows. “I know him, Harry Potter director?”

You chuckle, nodding your head, “Prisoner of Azkaban.”

“Wow!”

“He also did Roma, Gravity, Desierto. The list is long.”

“Impressive.”

“Yes. Well, he’s a Mexican director and just phenomenal.”

“Alfonso does good work.”

“He’s doing an Apple TV series and welcomed me. He knows I’m in the city for a few days, so I’m thankful he opened the doors for me.”

“You are brilliant, Bel.” You feel your face flush and hide your face in his neck. “The most sought out actress,” he continued his fawning.

“Okay, enough.”

“Aren’t you?”

You feel your face burning even more but agree, “I am.”

“Own it, baby.”

There’s a knock on the door, “come in.”

It’s Connie. She’s part of the camera crew from under the stage, making sure each graphic is displayed.

“Join us for dinner?”

You perk up at the thought of food and conversation with friends. “I’d love to.”

“We’d love to,” Harry corrects.

“Sorry, amor.”

“It’s good. Let’s go get food for my baby.”

Harry drops his phone, preferring to just stare at you as you both just came back from dinner with the crew. You don't mind it, not at all, but you also can't help the flush that takes over his face at the loving smile on his face.

To distract yourself from getting seduced by Harry, you grab your phone, making a phone call you've been postponing.

You bring it up to your ear and stick your tongue out at Harry, making him laugh and break his stare. You relax for a second as you wait for the other person to answer, and finally, on the fourth ring, they do.

"Hey you," you greet the voice cheerfully. The person across the line is your good friend Dylan O'Brien. You've worked on several movies with him and might be your closest friend in the industry as he took you under his wing. "I'm good." You're silent for a few seconds, "Yes, I was calling to congratulate you."

You chuckle, standing up beginning to walk around the dressing room, aware Harry follows you every move. "You were brilliant. A total ass whole, yes." You see, Harry narrows his eyes trying to figure out who you're chatting with. "I'm really proud of you. Yes, I called her earlier." You pause. "Come on, she's great."

You wave at Harry, and he sends you a wink calling you over to sit on his lap. You shake your head, focusing back on your call, "you're in the city. You live there. Well, I won't be there for a while." You laugh, and that's when Harry has enough coming to wrap his arms around your waist, setting his hand on your shoulder, and you let yourself sink against him. "Rumors are rumors." You know Harry can hear Dylan now. "Guess you'll have to visit me to find out." Dylan talks for a moment longer, and you indulge in asking a few questions catching up, "well, it was nice chatting. Take care."

You hang up, resting your hands over Harry's that have tightened since hanging up.

"Who was it?" He murmurs.

"Dylan, he was in the new short film for Taylor and wanted to congratulate him. Oh and Sadie, but we spoke earlier."

"You've filmed with both, right?"

You narrow your eyes, "surprised you don't know the answer."

You can't see but know he's rolling his eyes, "fine, fine. You worked with Dylan plenty. But Sadie on Fear Street played your sister this year."

"Awe, my boyfriend knows my films."

He pinches your hips, "laugh it up."

You turn, taking his distraction as an advantage.

"Hey," your hands move up to hold his face, making him look at you." I appreciate it, amor. I promise. Nice knowing you're a fan of me just like I am of you."

"Course I am. How could I not be?"

"Sorry to interrupt this sweet moment, but we need to run over a few things, H." Tom smiles at you, shrugging.

"You're fine. I needed a break," you tease.

Harry gasps, "Bel, how dare you?" He drops his arms from around you walking away, making sure to add a sway to his hips. "No kisses for you."

"H," he's almost to the door. "Baby." He freezes. "Kissy, please."

His shoulders drop, and he turns around, biting back a smile. He makes sure Tom is gone before kissing you deeply, making sure you'd miss him for the time he leaves.

"Good enough?"

"Another? Please."

And so he does, you let yourself get lost in the feel of his lips against your forgetting for a moment he was needed.

"Bel, I'll be back."

"Okay."

"You'll help me get ready."

You raise your hand and caress his cheek loving how there is not a light pink hue, "of course, mi amor."

Harry was incredible tonight. It seemed to pass in the blink of an eye; one moment, he was serenading the crowd to 'Falling' and now was blowing kisses to everyone as he took his final bow for the night.

He was dressed in a cream wrap blouse, and blue diagonal grid patterned trousers with lace embroidery. Harry never fails to take your breath away in the gorgeous looks. The pants are another you'd steal if you could; if not, everything was made to his exact size.

Jeff nudges you as you head backstage, "don't need alone time," he teases.

"Shut it, Jeffery. Got your wife on speed dial."

He looks shocked, "when did that happen?"

"When she informed me she'd be visiting me in Los Angeles."

"Only you?"

"Course."

"She's my wife." He reminds you.

"Don't I know it? Promise I'll share her for a bit."

Jeff pushes you into the dressing room as Harry briefly kisses you promising to be fast in the shower. "Be nice to her, Jeff," Harry calls out as he hurries to the shower.

You move around gathering all your items as Jeff sits on the couch, staring at his phone, waiting for it to ring. As you sigh in relief, sitting next to him, knowing all your things are ready to go, your phone rings. It's Naomi, you answer not sure what she could want at this hour.

"Hi, you."

"Bel."

"That's me."

"Are you alright?"

"Perfect." She doesn't answer. "Why?" Still no answer.

"Sarai told you she was fine." She clears her throat, "sorry, she had a dream you were sick or something."

"Everything's peachy."

"Hmm…is it?"

"Yes, it is. We'll be in San Diego in a few days. I'm excited about that."

"God, it's the worst."

"The beach is nice. Also, some nice book stores I wanted to check out."

"Are you driving there?"

"We are. Landing in LA, then driving up for the day."

"Hope you have a good time."

"Thank you.

"Send postcards. We tape them to the fridge."

"What an honor, I will."

You hang up and laugh, that was a strange call, but you're used to those from Naomi. One time she called you at four a.m., making you promise not to buy peanut butter because Sarai had a dream you choked on it. It's safe to say none of Sarai's dreams have ever come true as much as they believed they were psychic, even just a bit.

"It's happening," Harry voices as he waves his phone back and forth, showing how it keeps chiming.

"They are going insane." Jeff turns his phone to show you a video of several girls standing there in shock, staring up at the giant screens that display a single word, 'Pleasing.'

You grin up at him, excited for this next project he has coming out. He's talked to you endlessly about how nervous he's been to do it. Every collaborator has worked hard to produce excellent and ethical materials, and that is what you're most proud of.

"Anthony is out there, H," Jeff tells him.

Jeff guides you out to the common room, Harry holding tight to your hand as he tries to keep calm, knowing that everything is happening fast.

"Wonderful." He breathes out.

"It's going to crash," Mitch voices, playing with his son, who is holding a small ducky.

"It'll be fine." Jeff tries to assure everyone.

Harry is frowning at his phone. "was this the right move?"

"H, it's fine."

He looks worried, and you hate it. You squeeze his hand, making him look down at you.

"It's okay. This is good. They thrive on your chaos. Didn't you tell me they went crazy over 'Do' and that was just a tweet?"

Harry nods, focusing on his breathing, "you're right. They'll support Pleasing like they do me."

"Exactly."

He kisses your lips in gratitude, and you're happy to be part of this moment, that he'll look back years from now, and you'll be there on an important day for his career.

"We should go rest and see how it goes."

Pauli laughs, "none of your fans are going to sleep."

"I know," he chuckles under his breath, knuckling at his eyes, "but I'm tired."

"We should have a movie night?" Sarah says, ignoring Harry's previous words as she kisses her baby, who's wide awake. "He won't be down for hours."

"Should we?" Harry asks sarcastically.

"Yeah, that sounds good," Niji answers, and soon so does everyone liking the idea.

"We should watch one of Y/N's films." Mitch jokes.

Your eyes widened, "please no."

"Why not?" Harry bumps your hip, having given up rather quickly the idea of going to sleep with you.

"It's awkward. There are thousands of movies to choose from."

"As your friends, one of yours would be wonderful." Elin inputs.

And that's when you know it'll be a full-fledged movie night in Harry's room.

Jeff smirks, "Death of an Angel is good."

Harry's head snaps to Jeff as he tells him to shut up.

"Hey, I thought that one was good." You frown at Harry, who quickly shut it down, thinking he must not like it.

Harry's eyes soften as he presses a kiss to your cheek. "It's not that, mi sol."

"Then…"

He doesn't answer.

No one does for a moment.

"It makes him cry."

"What? Awe, H."

Harry hides his face on your shoulder, groaning. "Shut up."

Pauli shrugs, "I do too, sometimes."

"Well, H cries every time."

"You die. On-screen. Have some compassion." Harry tries to defend himself.

"Just a movie," Mitch grumbles.

"Whatever, excuse me if I don't want to see my girl dead."

"But she's not." Sarah answers.

"Another movie, or no?"

"Little Women is good."

"I don't want to see her get married," Harry answers quickly. You can't help but laugh as they speak about your role as Meg March.

"It's not real," you try to assure him, stifling a laugh.

"Not helping," he mumbles.

You decide to end his suffering, "we'll watch Empire Strikes Back, then decide from there."

Everyone is quick to agree. Everyone dispersed, promising to meet at the hotel room in an hour with promises of take out already there.

"Hey Harry, did you watch the new episode?" Sarah asks as she settles the bub in his car seat.

"I did not. Good enough to lose sleep over?"

Sarah laughs, surprised at his question, "yes."

"Then tonight, after you all leave our room."

You walk back into the dressing room, taking a look around, making sure you do not forget anything. By chance, you catch sight of Harry's charger and grab it placing it in your back. It seems everything is there, meaning time to leave, hoping there will be enough time to squeeze in a shower.

Harry slips both your bags on one shoulder, having packed up as the chaos outside was happening, knowing it would be hard to slip out right away like usual. He slips his arm over your shoulder, tucking you close.

What show?" You ask curiously.

"Huh, love?"

"Talking with Sarah."

"Oh, New Amsterdam."

"You watch?"

"Haven't I told you? Gem and I love the show, and well, I got Sarah to watch."

"Interesting."

"Want to let me know if you're making an appearance."

You think back to the schedule they sent you.

"Not anytime soon," you answer honestly.

"Are you playing with me?"

"Maybe."

"Fine, I'll keep watching."

You laugh knowing that the scenes you shot were very few that they had you come in early and only worked for a week. Your episodes would come out in January. There was a reason your assistant updated very few of the series on Twitter but enough to keep your fans looking out for you each episode.

"Good, raise the ratings," you tease.

"You think you're so funny, don't you, Bel."

"Some things come easy, you know."

Harry rolls his eyes, but the smile on his face says something entirely different. He opens the door to the black SUV as Jeff climbs into the driver seat, acting as your driver for the night, something you're sure Harry will tease him about as soon as he gets in the car.

You get in first, but stop him from sliding in.

"What now?" He teases

"Kiss?" You pout.

Instantly, you see him melt, and your heart floods with love knowing he does that for you.

"Come here," he mutters as he locks your lips with his. You meant to keep it short, but the hand on the back of your neck lets you know he's going to drag it on for as long as he can not, that you mind. You let yourself get lost in the feeling that is Harry, the sweet-smelling peach shampoo that is yours, knowing he must have forgotten his back at the hotel. You hum at the familiar mint taste, not knowing when he had time to take his mints out of your bag.

"Alright, love birds, cut it out."

Harry ignores Jeff kissing you for a few minutes longer until he's satisfied, but you know he never is, just like you never are.

He leans his forehead against yours, letting your breaths mix together, "I really wish no one was going back to our room tonight."

"I love you. We've got all the time in the world."

He sighs and knows everyone is excited, "I love you."

"And I want to eat." Jeff cuts in again.

You laugh as you scoot further in so Harry can buckle in and shut the door.

"Call your wife, Jeffery."

"At least I have one."

"Don't think I won't. Got the perfect girl to tie the knot with."

Your heart skips a beat at the thought of marriage with Harry.

Hell, it's so soon.

Though with Harry, it's something you hope happens.

He's your future.

thank you for reading <3 i adore you

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twenty-two san diego

[doubleleoenergy]

My Oh My

A little bit older, a black leather jacket. A bad reputation, insatiable habits.

Pairing: Alpha!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, oral (female receiving), HEAVY breeding kink, dirty talk, knotting, mating, beta in heat, blood

Word Count: 2132

Author’s Notes: I am sorry that I am such a whore. This is disgustingly filthy.

“Y/N?” Bucky has one hand on the steering wheel of the Jeep Wrangler, the other gripping his cellphone against his ear. He was headed back towards the ‘Pack Dwelling’, as some would call it, representing the large house in the middle of the woods that his pack all lived in. Bucky had been out meeting with the Stark Pack, a pack of ten located about two hours away from their property.

It was mating season, and having been more ESTABLISHED than the Stark Pack when it came to that time of the year, their alpha Tony had asked to meet up and give advice to his group of betas. Tony himself had been through MANY mating seasons with his mate Pepper, but his pack of betas were fairly young and hadn’t experienced anything related to the first heat. Tony and Bucky explained the process to the males, bringing in the females after with Pepper in tow to help explain to them how their heat would affect them. After staying for a late lunch Bucky finally said his goodbyes, thirty minutes from home when y/n called.

“Buck…” She whined on the other end, the alpha sitting up straighter in his seat. He KNEW what was going on from the sound of her voice, a deep growl leaving his chest. This was it, this was HER first heat. His foot instinctively pressed harder on the gas, a wild look of excitement spreading across his face.

Y/N and Bucky had been together for about three months now, and the moment his cerulean hues locked on her he KNEW she was his. She had been a member of the Romanoff Pack originally, but had lost their alpha in battle. The new alpha that had taken over was cold-blooded, had a thirst for human hunting, something SHE and half of her pack did not agree with. One night, while everyone was asleep, they made their escape, becoming omegas for a few months before stumbling upon Bucky and his pack in town. The rest was HISTORY.

“I know, doll. I promise I’m hurrying.” He was going at least twenty ABOVE the speed limit at this point, not giving a fuck as he traveled on the backroads of town. No cops ever traveled this far back, and there hadn’t been another vehicle on the road for at least ten minutes. “Are you alone?” He questioned, his cock stirring in his dark denim jeans.

“Yes, Peggy also went into heat about the same time as I did today, Steve has been taking care of her in their room. But the new betas, the ones without MATES, they can smell me. They’ve been trying to get in the room but I threatened to rip off their heads if they did.” She KNEW Bucky was pissed, a darker growl wafting through the phone speaker, hearing the sound of the Jeep speeding up.

“They KNOW better.” He snapped, hearing her hold the phone away from her ear as she screamed at the betas who continued to claw at the door. “They should know you belong to ME, you have the mark to prove it, don’t know why they think they can touch their ALPHA’S property.”

Bucky’s words make the wetness between her legs worse, her panties already soaked in her denim shorts. “You can deal with them when you get here. But I really need you to hurry, Buck. I’m SO hot right now.” It felt like her body was on fire, her hips bucking against the pillow on the bed to create stimulation to her clit.

“I’ll be there in FIVE. Then I’ll show those dogs who you BELONG to.”

Bucky barely gets the Jeep in park out in front of their rustic estate, ripping his seatbelt off and slamming the door, the muscles in his arms bulging TAUT against his favorite black leather jacket. The door smacks against the wall as he enters, making the female betas watching a movie on the couch jump.

“Where are they?” He questioned through gritted teeth, pulling his leather jacket off and dropping it to the floor carelessly. One of the betas points in the direction of y/n and Bucky’s master bedroom, his footsteps getting louder as he strides against the hardwood floor.

“BOYS!” His voice is booming, the low growl settling in his chest. The three young betas clawing at the bedroom door stop, turning to look at Bucky with fear in their eyes. “What the FUCK do you think you’re doing?”

One of the boys looks back at the others, visibly shaking. “W-We’re sorry, alpha. Y/N just smells so GOOD. We can’t help it, we don’t have anyone.” Bucky moves to stand directly in front of them, gesturing to the door which displayed THICK scratch marks now.

“You want her that bad, huh?” He snaps his teeth at them, making them flinch. “Get out of my FACE before I rip your throats out with my TEETH.” The boys scramble, knocking into each other as they sprint down the hall and into the kitchen.

Bucky turns his attention back to the door, jiggling the locked handle a few times before he hears it unlock, pushing it open. Of course the SCENT of her arousal wafted a mile down the road, the stench only getting stronger as he walked closer and closer to the bedroom. His eyes take in the site of his mate, his cock hard as a rock now in his jeans.

She had discarded her shorts and tank top by now, the heat overtaking her, NEEDING to be free. Her drenched panties still clung to her hips, her breasts completely exposed. She looked DAZED, like she was trying to see through a fog, her mouth open and panting for cool air.

Bucky kicks the door shut behind him, walking up to y/n and kissing her deeply, his hands running through her hair. She melts against his lips and his body, feeling him press his tightened jeans against her, a moan leaving her lips when she could FEEL how hard he was already for her. She’s panting again loudly when he breaks the kiss, his hands roaming over the beads of sweat along her back, caressing her body and placing kisses down her jawline. He gently walks them backwards until they fall onto the bed, all of Bucky’s weight pinning her down.

“Buck! I need you, I’m literally on FIRE.” She croaked out, her hands going up into his long locks and tugging. A deep growl emits from his throat again, his teeth scraping against the darkened mating mark on her skin, drawing a few droplets of blood. He’s licking and sniffing all over her neck and collarbones, snaking his body down hers as he scents her, marking him as HIS. This would keep the betas away for sure, her scent covered with HIM.

Bucky watches as y/n arches her back into him as his lips latch onto her breast, sucking for a moment before moving to the other. His lips trailed down her abdomen, stopping to place wet kisses just above her pantyline. “Gotta taste you first, you smell so DELICIOUS.” He teased, a sharp fingernail slicing easily through the thin fabric of her panties. He pulls the shredded bits away, admiring her folds as they glistened with her honey.

Bucky wastes no time, lapping against the juices on the outer folds before diving inward, his beard scratching PERFECTLY against her skin. Soft moans are falling from her lips, her fingers still toying in his hair, hips bucking into his face to take MORE. It isn’t long before she cums, sending sweet liquid to his tongue.

“H-holy shit.” Her eyes close in pleasure, Bucky slurping up all of the liquid she gave him before he pulls back with a smile. “Doll, you taste even SWEETER than usual.” He gets off of her to remove each article of clothing he still had on, kicking his shoes in with the pile, his cock slapping against his stomach as it became free from the fabric binding him in.

He steps forward towards the bed again, tugging on one of her ankles to pull her so her ass is RIGHT up against the edge of the bed, her legs instinctively flexing open at her sides. “Want to take you like this first, fuck you slow on my cock, see your face when I first press into that needy cunt of yours.”

Y/N whimpers on the bed, her flingers moving to tug at her pink nipples. “Please, Buck, NEED to feel you now. I promise I’ll be GOOD.” Bucky settles against her slit, the tip of his cock red and angry, a light sheen of pre-cum leaking out. He lines himself up, one of his hands gripping her hip as he pushes in. His eyes focus on her face, watching it contort with pleasure at being filled finally. His cock was long and girthy, y/n’s cunt swallowing him in until he couldn’t push in any further. 

He barely moves backward before she cums again, tears falling to her cheeks from how incredible it felt. “Baby please move, need MORE of you.” Her nipples are hard from the way she pinched at them, one of her hands moving down so her fingers can press against her clit. Bucky’s hips move back so he’s halfway out of her before plunging back in again, bottoming out. He can HEAR how wet she is as he picks up his pace, a rumble stirring in his chest.

“Doll, you feel so good, so wet for me. Look at you, milking my cock for more.” He fucks her like that for a few minutes before pulling out, y/n whimpering at how EMPTY she felt. “Get on your hands and knees, ass up.” She does as she’s told, rolling over onto her knees and sticking her ass up high. Bucky SHOVES his cock back in, going deeper in this position than he had been before. His rough hands grab onto her hips, his nails digging into her skin as he fucks into her animalistically.

“So fucking good, look so BEAUTIFUL on your alpha’s cock.” Her walls tighten as she cums a third time, mumbling nonsense, a lazy smile spreading on her face. Bucky chuckles, one of his hands moving into her hair, tugging her flush up against him. He tilts her face so he can see her, her eyes fighting the urge to close. “Look at you, going fucking STUPID on your alpha’s cock. Can’t even stop yourself from coming, like the whore in heat that you are.”

She’s drooling a bit, letting him fuck her senseless. “Yes alpha. I’m a whore in heat, only for YOU.” He can feel his orgasm building, a guttural groan escaping his throat.

“Gonna cum in that sweet cunt, fuck you down onto my KNOT to fill you full.” The hand on her hip snakes around to rub over her stomach, his hips snapping against her harder. “You’ll look so good all SWOLLEN with my pups, gonna keep you full of my cum always, make you my breeding whore.” Y/N loses it again, submitting as she cums one last time, the hand Bucky had in her hair moving forward to grip her throat, touching along their mate mark.

“You like the thought of that, huh? You came just from THINKING about me using you as my breeding whore. Maybe when you’re heavy with my pups I’ll bring you out into the living room and make the beta boys WATCH as I fuck you, let them watch what a whore you are for me. Let them know who you belong to as I fuck you stupid.” She’s whimpering at how good all of it sounds, swallowing as best she could with his hand around her throat.

“Y-yes alpha, PLEASE, want you to do all of that. Want you to breed me, tie us together with your KNOT, want to be your breeding whore.” Her words are all it takes before his knot builds inside of her, tying them together as she wanted, ropes of cum spurting deep inside of her, breeding her full. Her stomach BULGES from all of the cum that’s pumped inside her, wincing at the sting of the knot as it locked her into place. Bucky releases his hand from her throat, her body heaving forward and collapsing on the bed, his own body resting atop hers.

He places gentle kisses to her shoulder, nuzzling against her. “Did so GOOD, doll. Can’t wait till we have a little family of our own.” She smiles, her breathing finally steadying and the fire on her body dissipating a bit.

“A little family of potential alphas to take their daddy’s place someday. I like the sound of THAT.”

[nastybuckybarnes]

Hoist The Colours  -  3/3

Pairing: Pirate!Bucky X SeaGoddess!Reader 

Summary: An encounter with the man you used to love lands you and your new crew in peril, stuck on a ship with the people responsible for binding you. And what they have planned for you is far worse than what you’d first imagined.

Warnings: Language, Angst, Fluff, Violence, Injuries, Death,

Word Count: 2.2K

A/n: Oof another thing is finished. I’m gonna start actually finishing stuff but Idk what to write I’m sad that my stuff is ending :( But I hope you enjoy this!

~*~

The door to your cell gets wrenched open, pulling you from your light sleep.

“You!” Rumlow snarls, grabbing you by the throat and lifting you to your feet.

“Where have they taken my prisoners?” You furrow your brows, yanking out of his grip.

“How am I supposed to know? I was left behind.” He grinds his teeth together and grabs your bicep, dragging you out of your cell and onto the main deck.

The clouds are dark and gloomy, the waters wild and violent, but not by your doing.

“You must’ve helped them, that other witch too! So tell me, how did you do it?” He shoves you and you gasp, tumbling onto the wet wood of the deck.

“How could I have helped them? You have me chained up like a dog!” You spit, glaring up at him. He stoops down to your level, grabbing your face harshly.

“You will watch your tongue or you will lose it. You do not need your voice to do my bidding.” He shoves you back down and you bite back a yelp of pain.

The sky darkens further, thunder booming and clouds rolling in.

“I will never do your bidding!” You snarl, a flash of lightning punctuating your words.

Rumlow’s eyes widen for a moment, and then he’s got his sword pointed at you, the tip just brushing your throat.

“On your feet, witch!” You obey, standing up with your chin held high.

“You will do my bidding, or you will join all those who you have sent to the depths. It is your choice.” You follow his gaze over your shoulder to where the plank is being extended over the raging ocean.

You look back at him, jaw set, and he knows you’ve made your decision.

The wind whips around your hair as he walks you to the plank, his sword digging into your back just hard enough to cause discomfort, but not pain, not yet.

You carefully step onto the plank, taking deep breaths of the salty air as the water rages beneath you.

“I will give you one last chance, wench. I will spare your life, all you need do is swear your powers to me. You’ll have the sea back in your grasp, the power to do what you please. You need only do so at my side.”

Raindrops splatter against your face, just gently at first, until you’re consumed in an intense storm, the water pelting down against you.

“You’ve forgotten, Captain, that you are not sending me to the depths,” you look over your shoulder at him with a small smile, “you are sending me home.”

You look down at the water, preparing yourself for the cool embrace, when a particularly harsh wave rocks against the ship, sending you stumbling back a step.

A wave rises up over the ship, a spiral of green swirling inside of it and for a moment you think that you’ve already died.

The wave crashes against the ship, sending the men falling and scrambling, submerging the deck for a moment.

But you stay rooted in place, the familiar green hue just touching your fingertips, the ends of your hair, then slowly becoming part of you once more.

You hear the men shouting and coughing, feel Rumlow’s sword pressed against your back once again, but you only turn around to face him.

The storm continues, the waves fighting the ship, and you cock your head to the side, sending a gust of wind towards the man threatening you. He stumbles back, eyes wide with fear.

“H-how do you...” You take slow steps towards him, waving your hand behind you as his crew-mates try to run at you. The wind pushes them back, keeping them a safe distance from you and the captain.

“You will give me answers and you will give them to me now!” You hiss, glaring daggers at him.

“Whatever it is that you wish to know, I will tell you. Just please, spare my life.”

You watch him for a long moment, fighting tears as the question bubbles out of you.

“Why? Why did he do it?”

Rumlow only shakes his head, on his knees and ready to beg for mercy.

“’twas me... I caused him to do it. With the help of a siren for the price of his left arm, I got the binding spell from him. He knew not what he was doing, though he gave the information.” You let out a shaky breath, a weight lifted off of your shoulders.

“All this time I had thought it was he who betrayed me... but it wasn’t.” You turn your gaze to him, eyes glowing green with the influx of power.

“It was you. You and your greed.” He shakes his head and scrambles back desperately.

You step aside as a sword comes down right where you were standing, and Rumlow uses your momentary distraction to sprint away.

“Kill her! Kill the Witch!” He shouts, grabbing his own sword.

You shake your head, the wind whipping strong enough to keep them away.

A nagging in your mind stops you for a moment, and a smile tugs at the corner of your lips.

“The King and his men stole the queen from her bed... and bound her in her bones.” Your voice travels on the wind.

“The seas be ours, and by the powers, where we will, we’ll roam.”

“Captain! We’ve got a ship coming up starboard!” A man shouts, pointing his sword at the familiar ship.

“They’re upon us! Battle stations!” The men scramble to their stations, trying to get prepared as the ship approaches.

“Yo ho, all hands, hoist the colours high. Heave ho, thieves and beggars, never shall we die.” The voices ring out to you clear as day, responding to the call.

It’s only a matter of moments before canons start firing and men start boarding the ship, swords clashing and guns firing.

Your eyes scan the crowd, freezing on a man approaching you. You simply look at him and he crumples to the ground, grabbing at his throat.

“Rumlow!” You shout, following your instincts up to the foredeck and finding the captain cowering, exactly how you thought he would.

“You want to throw me overboard, captain?” You sneer his title, taking another step towards him. He stumbles back, slipping on the wet wood and scrambling away from you and towards the main deck.

“You forget that I am the sea and all things in it.”

The rain pelts down on you and the wind whips your hair around your face wildly, your eyes glowing green with the force of your power.

At that moment, you look every bit the sea goddess that the stories described. And today, you’re planning on being just as cruel.

“You stripped me of my purpose, my power. Bound me to my form and took away my reason for existence! You sacrificed the man I love for your own greedy gain. What do you have to say for yourself?” Your powers protect you from the fighting around you, the man before you protected as well.

No one will take your vengeance from you.

“I’m sorry!” He cries, slipping back further.

You shake your head and grab him by the front of his tunic, tossing his sword aside and glaring into his eyes.

“No, you’re not. Not yet. But you will be, that I promise you.”

You cock your head to the side, your free hand coming up, fingers flexed.

The water on the deck swirls around your ankles, clawing up the man before you.

“You’ve never had your purpose taken from you because a man like you has no purpose.” You twist your wrist, controlling the water around you and watch in satisfaction as his eyes widen, the water rising up over his face.

“So what else can I take, but your life?” You ask rhetorically, watching as the water trickles into his mouth and nose, slowly at first, then picking up speed.

He tries to claw at you, but his hands can’t reach you. His struggles are futile, though that doesn’t stop him.

You steal the life away from him, exactly the way he did to you.

He collapses on the ground, his body convulsing for a moment before falling still, death embracing him.

You take a deep breath, embracing your freedom, then slowly turn around.

You’re instantly meet with piercing blue eyes staring at you from across the ship. His chest is heaving and he’s squinting through the downpour, but his eyes are on you.

You walk over to him, the rain lessening with each step you take until you’re right in front of him.

The wind dies down and the ocean becomes calm. The fighting around you draws to a sombre end, victory on the tip of your tongue.

His sword clatters to the ground, his hands finding yours ever so gently, his eyes filled with so many emotions.

“Gentlemen, the ship is ours!” Steve shouts, a smile on his face. You turn around, pulling Bucky’s arms around your waist as you watch the crew celebrate their success.

Your eyes find Wanda’s and Tony’s through the crowd, both of them smiling brightly up at you.

The two crews celebrate, Pirates and Kingsmen, and you can’t help but smile at them.

“Back to the ship! We’ve gotten what we came for. The King can enjoy plundering Rumlow’s ship. I trust that will keep him off of our back for a while, yes?” Steve looks at Tony pointedly and the brunet nods.

You step out of your lover’s arms and walk down to the two men, one hand gently finding Tony’s forearm.

“I owe you a debt, Tony. One I fear I may never be able to repay.” He shakes his head, taking your hands gently in his and smiling at you.

“You’ve no debt to be paid. But if you feel so inclined, could you maybe hold back any storms for the next day or so? I’d like a chance to dry my clothes.” You giggle and nod, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, for all that you’ve done for myself and Wanda.” He gives you a tender smile and nods.

“It’s what I wish had been done for my mother.” He sniffles then straightens up.

“Now come on, men. It’s time we return to the King!” His crew-mates start busying themselves quickly.

“Alright lads, back to the ship!” Steve calls, leading his own crew members to their ship.

You watch as everyone eagerly crosses, smiling encouragingly at Wanda. She crosses swiftly, her eyes drawing to the helmsman for a moment.

“Are you ready?” A soft voice asks from behind you. You take a breath then nod, looking over at him.

“Yes.”

The two of you cross back to his ship, the ship almost cooing at you as soon as your feet hit the deck. You can’t fight the smile the spreads on your face at being back, and you don’t try to.

“It’s good to have you back,” Steve says, giving you a nod. You do the same, sighing happily.

“It’s good to be back, Steve.” Bucky takes your hand then and tugs you gently towards his quarters.

The door closes softly behind you and you take a moment to reacquaint yourself with the room.

You can feel his eyes on you, the tension palpable but not unpleasant.

Without looking at him, you speak.

“Could you help me out of my gown? It’s far too heavy.” He walks towards you, untying the back and watching as the fabric slides down your body, leaving you only in your white slip.

His hands hesitantly trail over your skin, one cold and one hot and the contrast is so delicious.

You close your eyes and lean into his touch, head falling to the side as he presses soft kisses to your neck.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, my love,” he whispers against your skin, spinning you around to face him.

You gaze up at him lovingly, one hand coming up to cup his jaw.

“Show me,” you whisper, leaning up to gently brush your lips over his.

“Show me how much you missed me. Give me a reason to clear the skies and calm the seas. Make me give us good wind and easy sail. Prove to me that you’re still worthy of my mercy.”

He brings your hand to his mouth, kissing each one of your fingers then smiling.

“I’ll never truly be worthy of your mercy. But I am more than willing to both swear and prove my loyalty to you. I will give myself over to you; body, heart, mind, and soul.”

You look up at him tenderly, cupping his cheek gently.

“I will sail to the ends of the Earth for you, fight the gods if I need to. Anything to keep you in my arms.”

“My heart belongs to you, James. And never will it belong to anyone else.”

[thefanficmonster]

Never Satisfied [Chapter 10]

Corpse Husband x Original Female Character

Warnings: Language

A Collaboration between Vy & Ashens

“i can see the sunrise in your eyes“

It must have been around 2 or 3 AM when they had finally fallen asleep. Corpse, much to his own surprise, didn’t find himself repeatedly checking the time on his phone like he usually does. Instead, he spent every moment talking with Cora in hushed whispers, little giggles passing between them and exchanging soft ghosts of a kiss every once in a while. He wasn’t sure who fell asleep first - they both felt their eyes go heavy and their mumbles faded into silence, the exact moment blurring in his mind. He, however, was the one to wake up first, his usual sleeping pattern taking form as per usual, not allowing him long slumber if any at all. When his eyes fluttered open, he felt a weight on his chest and was briefly concerned he had woken up into a bad day of anxiety. Instead, he found himself cradling a smaller figure to his chest, arm looped around her lower back as she slept peacefully. His delicate touch combed her hair out of her face, not wanting to wake her up before she was ready to face the day on her own accord. It was one thing to see the peace in her face while she slept on his lap. But here? With her cradled in the crook of his arm, asleep on his chest?

He could have sworn his heart ached with joy. 

This can’t be real. 

But it is, even if it wasn’t, he would be prepared to accept this reality as his real one. Because here, in this new reality they’ve created together, he feels something he hasn’t felt in a long time. He feels happy. Truly and utterly happy.

He brushes his thumb across her cheek, eyes half lidded as he watches her content smile become more prominent with each passing second. As gentle and calm as he tried to be, it isn’t long before Cora’s voice startles him from his trance, still not quite yet aware of his affectionate gaze. 

“You’re staring…” She murmurs so faintly he almost misses it.

“Sorry…” He replies with a mumble, drawing his hand away as a blush creeps to his cheeks. Before it could get far, she reaches out and takes hold of it, tucking it back in its previous spot as she snuggles closer into his chest. 

“Mm...time is it?” She whispers, smiling softly as she rubs her nose against his knuckles. 

He sighs softly, looking up to the ceiling. It takes him a moment but he soon realizes they;ve found themselves in a deja vu similar position.

“...I can’t tell, you’ve taken me hostage again.” He whispers into her hair, smirking against the bird’s nest it had turned into as she slept. 

She shifts a little, winding her ankle around his. “Guess it doesn’t matter then. Time is just a social construct anyway, right?” She replies, sighing happily, evidently ready to doze off once more. 

Corpse, whether he likes it or not, comes to terms with the fact that he isn’t going to be moving anytime soon yet again and lets his own eyes flutter closed, keeping Cora closely cuddled up against his side. She’s warm, the blanket draped over them leaving him in a cocoon of comfortable coziness. 

“Guess not…” He whispers, kissing the top of her head before sinking back into sleep along with her. 

A couple hours pass. In that time Corpse has gone from having Cora tucked up against his chest to having her tightly wrapped up in his arms, face pressed into his shoulder. She has looped one arm over his waist and the other under his neck, legs tangled together as he murmurs into her hair. 

He has to admit, as he feels the grogginess of having just woken up start to leave him, this is one of the best nights of sleep he’s gotten in a long while. Maybe it’s because of the warm body next to him, or maybe it’s because he finally feels safe enough with someone beside him. He doesn’t think that he could really explain it to anyone, but having another person there was more than he needed. 

Black curls shuffle against the pillows as he tucks her in closer which initially would seem impossible considering their bodies are already flush against one another. Cora shifts and stretches in his hold before squeaking. It was one of those good stretches, the ones that made your body shiver with delight. She rolls away from him, briefly leaving him with a twinge of emptiness in his chest but it’s quickly extinguished when she rubs her face and reaches out to pat his chest.

“You slept well, Hades?” She sounds groggy, the slumber as hard as a rock having rasped her voice a tiny bit. She tilts her head to look at him, eyes lidded with a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. It’s a beautiful sight he finds himself so entranced by, that his own lips quirk a little before he leans forward to touch his forehead to hers for a moment. That’s good enough for him, the feeling it provokes in his chest much alike the one that blossoms when their lips touch. 

She runs her hand through his dark curls and forces herself to sit up, his shirt hanging off one of her shoulders as she blinks sleepily. Corpse is in no rush himself, choosing to lay there and continue observing her, taking in the elements that compile her beauty: hair messily tousled following the long night’s slumber; how his shirt looks on her, like it always belonged there to begin with, like he’d done it injustice by wearing it himself. He could keep going but when she looks over her shoulder and catches him staring he looks away, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. 

She grins and ruffles her hair to help undo the knots that have formed before scrunching her face at him. “You gonna lie in bed all day? Or are we going to get breakfast?” 

He smiles and shifts so he too can sit up, legs hanging off the bed as his palms roughly rub his face. Once he’s sure he got the crud out of his eyes, he stretches his arms high above his head and arches his back before sighing. “It’s too early for you to be this awake.” He grumbles, rolling his shoulder to reawaken it after having been used as a pillow for so long.

She snorts and looks at her phone before lifting her brow and showing the screen to him, “Dude, it’s almost 11 AM.”

“Yeah. Too early.” He grins, his smile softening and he moves to stand up, wincing a little at the sudden discomfort in his neck and shoulders. Must’ve slept funny, he thinks to himself, fucking nerves. Subtly rubbing his joints so Cora doesn’t notice, he glances down at his carpet and nudged the pair of socks he’d been trying to force on her feet out of his way. “What do you think about grabbing brunch since it’s too late for breakfast now?”

“Brunch, huh? Are we fancy now, or what?” She teases, grabbing her clothes from where she’d tossed them on the floor. She wanders out of the room and makes her way to his bathroom and this time, she shuts the door. 

While she’s inside, Corpse changes into his usual attire: black jeans and a simple black shirt, accessorizing with his go-to chains before stuffing a mask into his pocket and yanking on his favorite hoodie. Cora returns from the bathroom a moment later, her hair looking like it had been combed through with her fingers before getting pulled back up into a messy bun. Watching her carry his clothes with care made his heart flutter in a way he has never experienced before. She has folded them neatly and is now offering them back to him as though they were a holy item. 

“Thanks for letting me borrow these. Maybe next time I come over I’ll bring my own pajamas.” She says with a beaming smile, one he returns without missing a beat.

Taking the clothes, he looks around as if he isn’t sure where to put them. A moment later, he decides the foot of his bed would be good enough at the moment. 

His gaze travels down to the floor and he stutters a little as he says:  “I-..um…I’m gonna….go piss.” He motions at the bathroom timidly as if he’s expecting her to be taken aback by the fact that he has bodily functions he needs to get taken care of.. 

Accordingly and casually, she shrugs and laughs before jokingly patting him on the head, pushing up on her tiptoes to do so, “Go for it Cujo, unless you plan on going into the back yard, then I’ll have to hook a leash on ya.” 

His face flushes a deep red and he shuffles away and into the solace and privacy of his bathroom, closing the door behind him and leaning against it. She was just joking. She was just joking. Fuck me she was JOKING, he swears and scolds himself, a hand threaded deep into his mop of curls as he exhales deeply. Turning back to face the door, he locks it and begins his usual morning routine. 

With that said and done, he steps back out in the hallway in a matter of fifteen minutes. Glancing to the right, he sees that Cora hadn’t gone back to his room. Moving further down the hall he catches a glimpse of her sprawled out on the couch with her legs over the armrest, tapping away on her phone while lazily kicking her feet. 

When he emerges from the hall, entering her view point, she lets the phone drop to her chest and smiles. “Ready to get some grub?” She hooks her knees over the edge of the sofa like it was a set of monkey bars and reaches down to grab the edge with her fingertips and heaves herself up into a sitting position, looking up at him. 

Damn that was some impressive core strength

Corpse hesitates, but before he could say or do anything, she reaches up and loops his chain around her fingers, pulling him down for a soft tender little kiss. His hands flex, gripping at nothing, hanging awkwardly at his side for a second before moving up as if he’s going to place them on her shoulders or cup her face but immediately drops them instead. What the FUCK am I supposed to do with my hands!? Before he could figure that out, she breaks away and hops up onto her feet, fingers still curled in his chain, the entanglement allowing her to pull him along behind her as she walks out of the room. “How does Waffle House sound?” She asks, sparing him a brief glance over the shoulder without letting her walking pace falter.

He follows like a lovesick puppy, lips still tingling from her kiss, creating a sensation he’s far too focused on to coherently reply so he finds himself nodding in response as he mutters a small, uncertain: “Y-yeah.” 

Equipping his shoes, wallet and eyepatch, he throws on the hood of his hoodie and gives the curls that stick out from underneath it only a brief thought before he looks over at Cora who’s already pulled her shoes on. He catches himself as his gaze travels up the length of her legs, stopping at the short black shorts clinging to her upper thighs. She has omitted the fishnets she’d worn the night before, choosing to shove them in her hoodie pocket, but has left the suspenders to still hang around her thighs.

“Ready?” She asks with a bounce to her stance, smiling widely like an overly-excited child. 

He nods, opening the door for her and following her out.

@vixenl  @annshit​  @wineandionysus  @wiseflamingoqueen

[gallickingun]

How do you think Tama would react if you begged him to cum inside you while you were having sex? I just want our sweet elf boy to give me a nice creampie

cw: breeding kink, oral (m. receiving), praise, bit o’ dacryphilia!

His thumb is soft against your lower lip, watching with his own unhinged jaw as you bob your head up and down on his cock, the tip nudging your tongue until you are able to take him further, until your throat is tensing up around the thick shaft and you’re drooling down your chin. He swallows, a shininess in his eyes that he gets every time you beg to please him, every time you drop to your knees to prove to him that he’s worth a thousand stars.

“You’re so pretty,” and he doesn’t even mean to say it, not really. Tamaki’s voice is barely above a whisper, and his tongue parts his mouth so he can lick up and over the bow of his upper lip. An exhale shudders his shoulders and his free hand rubs your neck in a soothing motion, and for some reason he wants to kiss you so badly that he can’t see straight.

Or maybe that’s just a biproduct of your pretty mouth suckling all the way to the base of him.

Tamaki’s irises are hidden from you now, his lids unable to stutter open any longer, the further you take him, the more saliva that pools around the base of him until it drips from his balls to the floor. He moans, high and whiney, and his head drops back against the wall behind him, “Baby, ‘m gonna come if you keep that up.”

The thought of being able to taste him is divine, but your thighs throb with the need for something more. You swallow the pool of drool and pre that sits heavy on your tongue, and sit back on your thighs so you can look him in the eyes, seeking out those sweet, darkened irises with a gentle squeeze of his thigh under your petite grip, “T-Tama?”

You’ve wanted this for a while, wanted to beg and plead and cry until he gives it to you, but Tamaki swore he’d go slow, savor every piece of you until you’re tired and then, he’ll do it all over again. But, still, there is something missing. Your eyes are drawn momentarily to the shiny packages littered across your nightstand, taunting you silently, quietly mocking your every movement. You’ve purposefully bruised both of your knees tonight, with the hope that you can draw out such a long, heady arousal from him that it would leak out of you — but not your mouth, not this time.

“Yeah?” he’s trying his hardest not to stutter, you can tell. Your thumb runs over his knee and then you’re cupping your hands along his calves, anchoring yourself to the floor so you don’t float away with how effervescent his gaze makes you feel. You’re squirming on the floor now, the heels of your feet dug into your ass to give yourself some sort of harsh reminder that you need to get this question out of the way, that it will bother you until you know his answer.

You bite your lower lip to bring yourself back to reality and the sentence is slurred, but at least you’ve propelled it from your lips this time, “W-Will you come in me?”

His hips stutter to a stop and you’re worried you’ve run him off. You lick your lips and massage your thumbs in circles against his ankles, drifting palms headed north to administer the same affections to his thighs. Tamaki inhales in a shudder, and his thick fingers slide along your neck until he’s near gripping you at the shoulders, like he might push you further down until the floor swallows you whole. His thumb traces your jawline until he reaches your lower lip, and he cannot stop himself as he runs the pad of his fingerprint against the swell of your lower lip.

“Y-You mean it?” he is hesitant, and you could cry at the sound of his voice breaking the silence. Your mouth laps at the spittle and start of his orgasm that beads against his cockhead, pearlescent and pretty along the purpled tip. A nod has your mind boggling, and all you want is to let him drown you in whatever he’s willing to give you, just to taste him in your womb instead of your throat.

Tamaki guides you to your feet, fingers circled around your wrists to hold you closely, “Angel, I need to know—“

“Yes, I mean it,” your voice is firm and your gaze is direct enough to match. With a gusto you did not have moments prior, you reach out to hold his shaft in your hand, swiveling your palm up and down the length of him so the head disappears in your grasp and he’s already moaning on your first pass. He bucks his hips but then thinks twice, holding you by the hips and angling his pelvis backward so he does not move again, “I-I’m close, c-can’t keep goin’ like this.”

You are a mess when you take another step forward and practically beg him with your words and your gaze, “Then fuck me, ‘jiki. Want to feel you, all of you, inside of me, please!”

Unsure of where your words incited the riot that is his next movements, you allow him to take you along for the ride. Tamaki guides you to the bed and settles between your thighs, wanting to watch the way you fall apart beneath him as he spears you on the thick of his cock and he milks the sticky translucent arousal from between your precious, velveteen folds. He’s slow and deliberate with each thrust, savoring the way your plush warmth steals the very breath from his lungs, sucking him in like it might be the last stroke you ever feel. His palms are tucked under your knees, using the leverage of this position to hold you near folded in half, something you might complain about if it weren’t for the fucked out expression slackening his features.

“Ah, I’m, ‘m cl-close, angel,” he whimpers, and you’re surprised he’s managed this long. You feel a haze cloud your vision and you know it’s the tears that always fall when he fucks you raw on his cock. He’s so thick and deliberate, and you find yourself lost in every bit of him no matter how he takes you. Tamaki’s hips slam into your ass and it stings, and you’re sure that there will be a plethora of reminders of this evening in the form of blistering purple bruises along the curve of your ass.

“Please, Tama’,” you are wanton and uncaring in the desperation to your tone. You buck into him, meeting him more than halfway, the promise of his seed driving you to a new level of hungry. Tears seep down your cheeks and he releases one leg in favor of throwing it over his shoulder, just so he can brush his thumb over the curve of your face, collecting the saltine droplet on his fingertip. You open your mouth in beckoning for his finger, and he obliges you with little question, nothing but adoration and awe in his eyes as he watches your lips mold around his thick digit, suckling and licking at the knuckles.

Tamaki rolls his lips and then his hips and he gasps for breath, “Tell me, love, tell me what you want from me, please, I need you to—“

It is the only encouragement you need to beg for his cock, his come, to tell him that it’s the only thing left to complete you. There is a hole carved out in your innermost parts, and it’s created just for him. You are a desolate wasteland without the depths of his affections, and the weight of his cock between your thighs is but one facet to the gem of your relationship. Your nails are relentless against his back and shoulders, clawing at him like he might be taken from you if you were to let him go. Tamaki indulges you to the fullest, not a single complaint from his full lips as he bucks into you with a sheer force that rivals even the most brutish of men.

“R-Right there,” he murmurs, seemingly to himself, “g-gonna stuff you full, angel, gonna give you all my come until it’s pouring out of you, is that what you want?”

You’re incapable of speech at this point, too fucked out to do much other than listen and receive. Luckily for you both, you’re receptive enough for a thousand lifetimes, eyes widening and mouth parted in a silent begging as you tighten your thighs and cant your hips in time with his rhythm. The pleadings you’re able to muster are little more than musings, incomplete sentences and half-syllables, but he has been with you long enough to know what you mean.

Tamaki seems to put it all together on his last stroke, eyes widening as he falls forward, hips stuttering with aborted, untimely shifts until you feel the warmth inside of you duplicate tenfold, his cock twitching until he’s spent himself dry. Still, Tamaki moves like he might get started up again, half-hard cock still nestled into the sticky heat of your cunt, watching as the milky slick coats his cock in a ring, collecting when he pulls himself out only to stuff you full all over again. You wonder for a moment if he’s doing this with the knowledge that he’s fucking deeper into your womb with each roll of his hips, but you don’t have the wherewithal to ask.

“So pretty,” his words are but a distant echo of earlier, and this time the meaning is increasingly more lewd than it was when he was merely watching you take his cock deeper and deeper into your throat. Now, with the pulsating thick of his shaft finding purchase in the plush of your cunt, his words carry more weight, and this time you know he’s referencing the way your folds coat him in slick, not leaving an inch of him insatiable for your come. He is coated in it, drenched in the mixture of you both, and immediately, the desire to repeat the action stirs his cock from the depths of your body.

“No, you,” you giggle, framing his face with your hands so you can bring him forward for a kiss, “you’re always so pretty, ‘specially when you come.”

Tamaki turns so his cheek is pressed to yours, hoping you didn’t see the lustful darkening of his amethyst irises before he responds, “Wanna see me get downright gorgeous?”

A giggle is shared between the two of you, along with another round of your begging and pleading to be stuffed to the brim, and who is Tamaki to deny you of something when you ask so sweetly?

[timextoxhajima]

Nevertheless: Wishful Thinking [2]

[completed] [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

synopsis: why would the college flirt want anything to do with the innocent heartbreaker? a [somewhat] nevertheless au featuring tbz's eric son young jae

genre [per chapter]: SMUT *this series is a smut series so* please don't read if you're uncomfy. if you're underaged and you still wanna read, i'm not stopping you. i don't care because that's your responsibility to know what's fiction and what's not.

word count: 3.1k, half of which is definitely filth

taglist: @from-xero @taeyongandfree @ten-gift @louvyves @sweetutopia @yyyereum @jung-breadshop

{this is a work of fiction}

it's one of those days that you look at a person and wonder "how did i get into this mess?"

eric's got his back plastered to the lockers, leg perched and his heel hooked onto one of the padlocks as he talks to his friends. he glances about and catches your gaze, the innocent glimmer in his eyes suddenly replaced with a predatorial glare.

everytime he sees you, he sees an opportunity - an opportunity to ruin the only other heartbreaker in school.

which he's already done once.

the sight of him cues the chills down your spine; flashes from some nights before zipping through your head like a fast-forwarded video.

eric brushes his hair out of his eyes, exposing his forehead. with a tiny smirk and his tongue poking the inside of his cheek, he looks down at his phone.

as his fingers fly across the screen and he hits send, yours vibrates in your pocket.

eric son: one night not enough?

you look back up and see him send one more message before shoving it into his pocket.

another message dings across your screen.

eric son: all you have to do is ask, princess

you look up from your phone screen to see eric moving off in his group of friends, giving you one last wink at that before he turns around.

the warmth emitting from your phone heats up in your palm when you tighten your grip around it, frustrated with yourself and frustrated with how easily he's got you wrapped around his finger.

"whew!" a sharp sigh exclaims from behind you, and you immediately attempt to erase the agitation off your face. turning to face your new company, you slide your phone back into your pocket.

"where were you?"

yujeong huffs and rests her weight on her hips, stretching to a side while yawning. "dealing with some girls sobbing over jung wooseok graduating. what about you?"

"what do you mean 'what about me'?" you turn to frown at her, arms crossing over your chest. "I've been here the entire time waiting for you."

"you think i didn't know where you disappeared off to? at wooseok's party?"

your heart stops.

she begins walking, and you follow quietly.

"i know you went home without telling me."

oh.

your lips part to heave a sigh of relief, but you stop yourself and feign surprise instead. "oh!"

"'oh', she says," yujeong rolls her eyes. "you could've at least told me."

yes, because i'd want you to know that i rejected wooseok AND got ruined by eric sohn in the same night.

"sorry," you suck your lips in between your teeth and cling to her arm. "i wasn't feeling well."

"pity," yujeong sniffles. "someone found cum stains on the floor outside wooseok's garage. you should've seen it for yourself."

"huh," you blink, refusing to turn to her. "what were we expecting from wooseok's graduation party?"

"point taken," yujeong shrugs, and you slide off her to comb through your ponytail. "anyway, someone told me you finally got down to talking to eric last night at the party. how did that go?"

"um," the name triggers a fight-or-flight response in you, but you can't have yujeong see right through that.

"yeah, i mean... if you're the 'innocent heartbreaker' and he's the 'vicious' one, then that must've been one hell of a conversation!"

"huh!" with your brows raised, you look at her with wide, surprised eyes. "who the hell coined that?"

"i'on't know, like, everybody?" yujeong frowns, finally turning into the cafeteria. "besides, you never really liked him... nor spoken to him. so it must've been a surprise to anyone to see you talking to him."

the crowd in the cafeteria stirs to life as more people follow in behind you and yujeong, the lunch crowd beginning to create a ruckus in the enclosed space.

"we just... you know, bumped into each other."

"I've always wondered how you guys never bumped into each other before the party," yujeong yawns again, pulling you aside to a table and sitting the both of you down. "i didn't think your dance crew was so well separated."

"we deal with different genres," you sit and rest your forearms on the table. "no reason to mix our teams."

"anyway, i heard new leadership positions are out today so keep a lookout for that."

"oh?" you turn to her. "what about you? did you get anything in baseball?"

"no shit, sherlock. you're looking at the new captain."

"oh!" with a bright squeal, you stand and throw your arms around her. "I'm so proud of you!"

"don't be sappy," yujeong uses her finger to push your forehead away from her. "but thanks."

the stale air of the practice room guts you first, since you associate nothing else with this place except sweat tears and a couple of ankle twists.

the air conditioner whirs to life when you turn on the main control switch of the studio.

usually, you weren't the first one here and so you were more than surprised when you were. placing your bag down and fiddling with the sound system, you plug it into your phone turn up the jazz music since it's supposed to calm you down. the thought of the night before was far too aggressive and violent for you to stomach.

it's okay, you think. the rest will come soon and practise will ensue.

it's alright.

then the door clicks and you look up in the mirror to see eric in the reflection.

the thought zips through your neurons: something's wrong.

he shouldn't be here.

you look back down at your phone and feel your insides twitch at the sight of him. "this isn't your training slot."

"and you don't need to be here," eric smirks, drawing a frown across your face as you look up.

"what do you mean?"

eric smiles at you in the mirror, closing the door and locking it behind him.

now you finally turn around, watching as he strides to you with his hands in his back pockets.

"i cancelled practice."

"what do you mean you cancelled practice?"

"well," then he pauses just about a foot away from you, waves of uneasiness already flooding into your private space as you lean back against the countertop. "you're looking at the new captain."

you scoff, shaking your head in disapproval.

"so the first move you made after becoming captain was to cancel training? very mature of you," with a huff and a smirk of disbelief, you pull out your phone, the jazz music abruptly stopping as you reach down for your bag.

"aren't you gonna congratulate me?"

you glare at him through your lashes as you lift your bag, but he's looking at you with wide, puppy eyes instead.

"congratulations," the wry, insincere remark draws a smile across his face.

"where are you going?"

"home. where else?" you swing your bag over your shoulder and take a step around him.

but of course, he stops you by grabbing your arm and holding you back to the countertop where you were previously leaning on. you yank your arm out of his grip but he finds your waist and hoists you up onto the countertop, the cold surface brushing up your skirt.

goosebumps erupt all over your exposed rear, including the skin on your arms for him to see.

"dance practice is cancelled but that doesn't mean you can't stay and accompany me."

"wait-" the whimper hums through you when his hands find your rear under the material, cupping your flesh in his hot palms. dipping his lips into your jaw, he begins planting soft kisses, deliberately making each and every one of them audible by your ears.

huffing and panting out of frustration, you squirm under him, unable to move due to the pressure he's exerting on your hips.

"it's only the two of us, princess," he whispers into your ear, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand and your lips pull apart in a wince. "and what are you doing... wearing a skirt to dance practice?"

his hands are everywhere.

he's running them up and down your calves and thighs and gently pulling them further and further apart so he can slot himself between your knees.

on top of that, you were staring at your reflections in the mirror across the studio.

"i have an extra pair of leggings in my bag, for gods' sake."

eric chuckles devilishly, reeling backwards to look you in the eye.

"and what were you waiting for before you'd change into them?"

"for training to start?"

eric blinks, running his fingers through his hair again. resting his hands on the countertop's edge by your thighs, he leans in closer to you, eyes slightly hooded and searching yours as if looking for something.

"i heard you rejected wooseok."

the name drives a puncture through a lung, and the guilt surges through you again when you remember whose house it was that you let eric ruin you outside.

"that's none of your business."

a sly smirk stretches his lips apart, and he lifts his finger to pick at the buttons on your shirt. annoyance brings your hand up to his mischief and you grab his hand, holding it in place as you attempt to close your legs.

but he grabs your wrist with his free hand and pries it off his own, taking both your hands and sliding them over the rim of his joggers.

"for someone who's been dubbed the 'innocent heartbreaker', you're kind of feisty."

then he uses your fingers like puppets and pulls apart the drawstrings, loosening the material's hold around his pelvis.

"you wanna know what i think?"

"no."

"i think..." eric throws your arms over his shoulders and pulls you in closer, chest pressed against his with his lips brushing across the arch of your ear. "this 'innocent heartbreaker' image of yours? fake."

he pulls away, a disgustingly innocent smile wide across his face. it makes his eyes shine, and he's got an arrogant glimmer in his pupils as he reaches for your right knee, trailing a single finger up to your inner thigh.

"i think you use it to bait people into thinking that you're just a cute, pretty little girl..."

and he stops and harshly grips your thighs to yank you forward, just enough for most of your butt to remain on the countertop but your crotch to be over the edge.

"but in reality, you're just itching for someone to put you in your place."

he hears the gulp that's forced down your throat, and his hands come up to your jaw to hold your face still.

"isn't that right, princess?"

your mouth is dry.

your lips are dry.

and you open your mouth in a bid to hurl a string of vulgarities at him for coming at your title all too daringly, only for him to drop his hand to your throat and shove his lips between yours.

the pressure around your neck forces a groan up your throat, hands flying up to his shoulders to push him away (it was an attempt).

he releases your neck, lowering his hands to fiddle with your shirt's buttons while he attaches his lips to your jaw. using his nose to tilt your head to the side, you hear him take in your scent with a prolonged inhale.

eyes stuck to the ceiling lights, you're unsure whether the lights were blinding you, or you were just seeing stars.

the cool air finally kisses and blankets your chest when the top few buttons come undone, and before you can respond to the shivers that run through your body, eric's hands slide in between your thighs again.

the sudden, sensitive contact jolts your entire body, so eric anchors you down by grabbing your neck again.

"I'm sure you don't want the school to know that the 'innocent heartbreaker' isn't so innocent now, do you?"

he scoffs at the gulp he can feel in his grip and raises both brows when he pushes your underwear off your core. your pride flushes away when he finds nothing short of what he expected.

"oh, my," his tongue flies out and darts over his canine teeth, eyes locked onto yours as he presses his thumb onto your swollen need. "oh, princess... just ask."

your thighs are aching to close, but his hips are keeping them apart.

your hands are clawing into his arm, but it seems to be fuelling his pride even more.

he leans into you again, placing careful kisses along your collar bone and your jaw whilst resting his palms flat against the countertop.

"i'll give you the chance to watch yourself, hmm?"

and with that he trails his kisses down into your chest, hands sliding from the countertop and onto your thighs to hold them apart.

riling up the cotton of your skirt, his breath hits your core first, then the uneven texture of his tongue brushes across you.

he presses a kiss to your sensitivity first, then plunges his tongue into you. a sharp groan thrums through you, shivers drawing up your spine like sinful whispers.

his hair comes tangled between your fingers, thighs hung over his shoulders as eric moans and hums into you, the vibrations driving you over some edge you had forgotten even existed.

your hips buckle and jerk when he begins flicking his tongue against you, and your blurred vision lands on your reflection in the mirror.

eric son kneeling under you, with his head between your legs.

very quickly, your attention is torn away from the reflection and back down at him when he slides two fingers into you. focusing his tongue on your nub now, he begins pumping his fingers with ease and with a smirk plastered across his face.

you don't realise the mewls and whimpers you're giving him until he breaks off from your under, standing back up and pressing his lips to yours with his fingers still playing with you.

then he pulls away, and removes his fingers, bringing them up between your noses and flips his hand, allowing your neediness to glisten under the lighting.

"enjoying this, aren't you?" and with that smile on his face, he slides his fingers into his mouth, whirling his tongue all over his skin.

the lewd sight makes you cringe and writhe before him, so eric picks you up by your rear and walks the both of you to the mirror, turning you around to face yourself in the reflection.

oh.

no.

"wait-"

"'wait'?" eric bites on his bottom lip, taking your right hand and pressing them into the mirror. "oh, princess... i can wait all day, but can you?"

the question tears through you in waves, your head turning back to the mirror and your eyes watching the fog coat around your fingers in the mirror.

his fingers are interlaced with yours, his palm over yours as he pulls his joggers off with his free hand. smirking and looking up at you, he stops to push your underwear off your core, then slides himself between your folds instead of into you.

the frustration builds up, erupting through your throat in the form of a groan mixed with a mewl, earning a sadistic chuckle from him.

he pulls your left wrist down to your lower back, keeping the other plastered to the mirror as he gently and slowly, teases you, sliding over you.

your heart and stomach are plunging with every slide he gives you, the throbbing down below driving you absolutely nuts.

it's making you tear up, and you cry out in agony as your fist clenches over your lower back.

he leans forward, careful to keep his lips in contact with your lobe as he whispers the words,

"your body's mine, princess."

and with a subtle lean-back, and one swift push, he bottoms out, burying himself entirely inside you.

your chest puffs as you suck in the harshest breath in your life, and your entire body shivers upon the fill.

"look at yourself," his husky voice is low and dangerous in your ear. you swallow your saliva, walls clenching around him as your legs begin to tremble.

he slides out, and pushes back in slowly, careful to make you live through every second and every inch of him as he does it.

'it' meaning drilling the sinful bliss through you.

so he picks up his pace every time he bottoms out, ensuring that your legs wouldn't give out under you.

but soon, the lewd noises of slapping and muffled moaning drowns out your thoughts, your eyes now tearing as you look down at the wooden flooring. multiple whimpers and mewls try to escape your throat but you suck your lips in between your teeth, every thrust jerking you forward.

"good girl," eric reminds you, taking the hand that was previously plastered to the mirror and gathering both your wrists on your lower back.

it forces you to straighten up, back arched away from his chest as he holds you close to the mirror, the bottom half of your ponytail messy over your unbuttoned top.

in the mirror, your skirt was blocking the view where he was fucking all senses out from you.

it was the messy, whored-out look on your face; the marks on your collarbone and the bouncing of your hair with your arms held behind you that made your knees weak.

eric leans over into your neck, locking eyes with you through the reflection as he kisses your jaw.

by some miracle, his hip buckles at an angle, and something explodes inside you. his free arm circles your waist in a bid to keep you upright atop your knees failing you, thighs flexing and trembling against his.

your body nearly goes limp under his hold, and he pulls out just in time to release on the flesh of your rear.

he huffs, sighing and blinking away his own climax. eric releases your wrists and pulls your underwear over your soreness now, still holding onto your waist to keep you from falling over.

eric smiles at you in the mirror when he catches your tired gaze, brushing the little strands of hair out of your eyes.

his palm runs from your waist and up your chest, gently pushing your head back onto his shoulder. nose delving into your jaw again, he side-eyes you in the mirror, pressing his lips onto your neck.

"wear your hair up more often, you look more..."

"fuckable."

he takes your jaw and turns it to face him now, eyes glued to yours as he scans your face.

"oh, by the way... congratulations on becoming vice-captain."

[nerdyfangirl67]

I'm Here - NCIS Reader Insert

Pairing: Gibbs x fem!reader

Warnings: angst with a fluff ending, language, descriptions of kidnapping, torture, and pain

Word count: 1417 (Yeah...this drabble got away from me)

Prompt: "Don't be scared. I'm right here."

Request by: @leroyjethrogibbsgirl

A/N: This was a great prompt for a Gibbs fic so thank you for requesting darling! The prompt itself will be bolded in the fic. I had a lot of fun writing this one (I sat down and it just flowed right out, which doesn’t happen often for me!). I hope you enjoy it!

You shift the grocery bags to your non-dominant hand as you fish around in your jacket pocket for your car keys. After a few moments, your fingers close around the cool metal and you pull them out of your pocket, hitting the unlock button as you do. You reach for the handle just as you feel a hand wrap around your wrist in a vise grip, yanking you backwards.

You let out a yelp of surprise, dropping the plastic bags of food you’d been holding onto, as you stumble and fall onto your knees. Broken glass from the jar of marinara sauce you’d purchased only minutes before bites into your hands, causing you to cry out. A hand weaves into your hair, pulling you up with a jerk. Your hands fly to your hair in an attempt to stop the stinging pain spreading across your scalp. You hear the screech of tires and then you are being shoved into the trunk of a vehicle. The masked figure brings something down hard to your temple, a flash of white hot pain exploding in your head. Black spots dance across your vision and you struggle to stay awake. You feel the vehicle turn twice before the darkness around the edge of your vision consumes you.

A heavy pounding in your head wakes you up sometime later. You groggily blink open your eyes, expecting to see the wall of your bedroom or the bookshelf of your living room, but an unfamiliar dingy gray wall greets you. It rushes back to you as you try to move, finding that your hands and feet are tied down to the chair you’re sitting in, the coarse rope biting into your wrists and ankles as you do.

You attempt to push down the fear rising in your chest as you take in your surroundings. A dim ray of light shines in from between a pair of thick, black curtains. The carpet beneath your feet is old and worn, the original color so faded you couldn’t make out what it used to be and a cheap wood door marks the only entrance to the small room. You stare at the door, imagining Jethro knocking it down as he comes to rescue you. You can almost feel his arms pulling you close when the sound of the door banging against the wall snaps you from your daydream.

A tall, lean man with a crooked smile and greasy black hair saunters towards you. The light bounces off something in his hand and you realize with a start that it’s a knife.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the bitch shaking up with Supervisory Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs.” A shiver runs down your spine at the dark way he says Jethro’s name. He reaches your side, a dark glint in his eyes as he lifts the knife. He reaches out, dragging it slowly down your arm as he continues. “Who would have thought you would be so easy to take, especially after what happened to his wife and daughter.” The knife is at your chin now, tracing along your jaw and moving to your neck, where he holds it still, flush against your throat.

And for the first time since you’d been taken, you truly wonder if you’ll make it out of this room alive. You wonder if you’ll ever see Jethro again, if you’ll get to feel his strong arms around you one more time or stare into the icy sea of his blue eyes.

He leans in, his breath hot across your face, as he says, “I’m going to kill you slowly and I’m going to make him watch.”

“Well then, you’re dumber than you look,” you say quietly, mustering up the courage to look him square in the eyes. “Agent Gibbs is going to find me and then you’ll be spending the rest of your miserable life behind bars.” And almost as if to punctuate your sentence, you spit in his face, a small feeling of pleasure running through you at the look of utter shock crossing his face.

His face quickly contorts in anger and he blindly reaches behind him, grabbing a heavy book off the shelf, swinging it at you. You raise your arms above your head to defend yourself, but it doesn’t stop the blow from landing on your head. He continues to hit you with the book until your world goes black.

You slowly regain consciousness, your eyes scanning the room once you open them. A figure draws nearer to you and you realize with a start, that it’s Jethro. He is at your side only a moment later, a gentle hand pushing a lock of hair away from your face as he leans towards you. “You’re safe-” His words are cut off by a faint yelling and the sound of heavy footsteps. You try to ignore the noise and focus instead on the man at your side, but he has disappeared like a wisp of smoke, proving to you that he was one more in the line of illusions that you had been experiencing in this room.

You slowly lift your head as the sound of yelling draws closer. You can’t make out what is being said but the door soon slams open, the blood dripping down your forehead blurring your vision and preventing you from making out the features on the person’s face. You see the dark blue of a uniform as that same person comes to kneel down in front of you.

The officer gives you a once over before untying the rope around your wrists and ankles. “Y/N, I’m officer Davens. I’m going to get you untied and then we’ll make our way upstairs to the paramedics, okay?” You give him a tired nod as he finishes untying you, offering you a hand to help you stand up. Your body is sore and a few of the spots you got hit ache with pain as you stand. The officer practically carries you up the steps, bearing more of your weight than you were, as the two of you make it out of the house and to the waiting ambulance in the small driveway. You aren’t even paying attention to what the

A sob catches in your throat as you see him climb out of the black car and stride towards you. You push away the paramedic’s hands as you stand. Pushing back the wave of dizziness that rises up as you stand, you stumble into a jog, not slowing down until you are almost crashing into him. Your arms instinctively wrap around his torso as you press your face into his chest. His arms wrap around you tightly, the feeling of which brings your fragilely constructed walls crashing down. Your chest tightens and you are sobbing into his chest before you can stop yourself.

“Don't be scared. I'm right here.” His words are soft and you almost don’t hear them over the sound of your own crying. “I’m here. I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.” He continues to whisper comforting words to you as your crying slows to a stop. He waits until he is sure you are no longer crying before he pulls back enough to look at your face. His brilliantly blue eyes draw you in immediately, a familiar sense of warmth washing over you as you get lost in his gaze. He lifts a hand up to cup one of your cheeks, his rough fingers brushing lightly over your cheekbone and wiping away a few stray tears off your face.

“I was so scared, Jethro.” Your whisper brokenly, leaning into his touch as you cover his hand with one of yours. “I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see you again.”

“You don’t have to be scared anymore.” His words are firm as he pulls you back into his arms. “I’m not going to ever let anything happen to you again.” You feel him press a kiss to your temple. “You’re too important to me.” His voice is soft, as he murmurs in your ear, tightening his hold on you. Being in his arms helped keep the memory of what happened to you in that basement at bay. His words reminded you that you were safe and you would be as long as he was at your side. Because he was the kind of man that would spend the rest of his life making sure he did everything to protect you.

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Tags: @madamsnape921​ @drakelover78​ @ncisfan

[multifandomthoughts]

Dark King of Desire

MINORS DNI

Requested by: Anonymous

Warnings: Penetration, Dry humping

The rain beats down on the Oro Jackson, lightning and thunder making it almost impossible to sail. But to support your captain and his crew, you stayed outside, gripping the side of the ship. The ship rocks and sways but one thing that doesn’t budge is Rayleigh.

His posture is tight, his voice booming through the storm as he shouts commands, muscles glistening from a mixture of the rain and sweat. His arms bulge as he pulls in the sails, and you have to avert your eyes just so you can focus on the task at hand. You’re soaked, and the only thing you want to do is go inside and dry off. But you have your own work to do. You linger a bit longer to watch him work. He’s just so alluring, the moments turn to minutes and soon you’re all settled in to brave the worst of it. Rayleigh looks over the whole deck to make sure everyone is accounted for, and your eyes meet. You look away quickly, hoping that between the distance and the rain he can’t see your blush.

You swear that his eyes having been wandering just like your own, but to what you can’t figure out. It can’t possibly be you, he has much more important things to do than talk to you. But here he comes, long strides and firm shoulders as if he’s talking to the most powerful person in the world. You shudder to think of what could possibly be so important that he’s coming over here for.

You try and find something to do so you look busy, and end up fiddling with a knot in the rope ladder. “Can I… help you, sir?” You ask politely, not looking at him yet. He looms over you, a serious look on his face but mischief in his eyes. “Seems like I should be asking you that. You were looking at me like you needed my attention for something. Mind telling me what that was?”

Gulping loudly, you begin to try to think of an excuse. It was rude to stare, and you had no idea whether or not he was actually looking at you. “I wanted to go down and lay in my room for a bit…the swaying of the boat was making me feel uncomfortable. But once I made eye contact with you I figured that I had been found out and I had to stay. I felt I had to keep looking at you to make sure I was still required above deck.” You mumble out, trying to look past his exposed chest and look him in the eyes

He nods in agreement with this explanation. “Alright, guess I can excuse that then. But going forward, you can just go ahead and slip below decks even if you see me looking. I’ll make the connection as to why, I’m pretty perceptive. For example, your panties are damp… or was that just the storm?” He asks, grinning devilishly

Your face turns a deep red, understanding the entendre almost immediately. Shaking your head, you take a deep breath before responding with a sly “I don’t know, why don’t you follow me and you can find out?” Letting out a deep belly laugh, you were almost certain that you were screwed. Instead, his strong firm hand clasps yours as he walks you down to your private quarters.

As you’re led inside and get a chance to think things over, you come to the embarrassing realization his innuendo was actually quite correct. Without even realizing, you had indeed become aroused. Mentally setting that aside as a fun surprise for Rayleigh later down the line, you squeeze his hand as you enter your room. Now comes the moment of truth, he called your bluff before so you have to follow through for the sake of your dignity. “Guess I should get out of these wet clothes before I catch pneumonia or something…” you sigh playfully, seeing Rayleigh has already dropped his wet coat and taken a seat on your bed to watch.

Your pants were torn, not from wear and tear but from slashes and stabs. That being said, it made it a breeze to drop them. Sighing, you step out of the soaking puddle around your feet. You bend over, pulling a bandana out of you hair and whip it back, allowing your hair to be free. However, it releases all the water, causing you to shiver slightly. Next was your crop top that you had created yourself; it was too fancy and frilly upon your purchase. As you cross your arms to pull it up and off from the bottom, you glance over to see his reaction. He’s just tapping his finger and giving an easy going smile, as if this means nothing to him. Frowning, you turn around so he’ll have to stare at your back rather than the perky breasts you’re now exposing to the cool night air.

You toss your top over your shoulder at Rayleigh, not even looking at him now. If he wants the show to continue he has to ask, otherwise he better be content with wet fabric. You hear the sound of a weight being removed your bed, then the soft creak of footsteps across the floor, and the next thing you know Rayleigh’s arms are around your waist. “Might if I help with the grand finale?”

You try to act indignant. “Hmph! I don’t see why you should get to, you weren’t nearly appreciative enough of what I’ve done so far.” You haven’t given me one look over, not one compliment, nothing! I might as well let your wet clothes cause you shrinkage. You turn away from him and pout, not letting your true emotions be known.

Rayleigh rest his head atop yours in a pout. “Don’t be like that. I was just being patient; you don’t applaud in the middle of a great concert, you wait until it ends.” It’s a great line, and he knows you liked it. Damn smooth talker… “I guess that logic is acceptable. Fine, I’ll let you do the last bit, but you have to show off for me first. And I’m not turning around until you say something else nice.” You can feel the chuckle ripple through his chest to his jaw, then he leans down to kiss your neck. “If I didn’t have my spirits literally dampened by these clothes I’d be rock hard and dying to feel you… How does that sound?” A delighted shiver runs down your back, and suddenly you’re soaked all over again.

In an impressive feat of strength, he rips off his shirt with only his bare hands. Drops of rain still cling to his smooth chest, a sigh escaping his lips. “I’m at least a little bit warmer now, but now my upper body is cold.” You don’t understand, what does he mean? Oh. Oh. He smirks, watching as you struggle to respond. You decide to tease him one more time. “Then go ahead and lie back on my bed. I’ll handle those pants, and then we’ll see if you even want to sit up again to get me naked?” Now it’s his turn to feel flustered, biting his lip to hold back a devilish grin. “I don’t know, most people can’t handle what I’ve got. But you, sweetheart? You seem like you’ll be a formidable challenge for me.” He coos, throwing hot and heavy words back at you.

“Then lie back and let me feel challenged, stud.” You order, sitting on your knees on the edge of the bed and waiting for his obedience. When he complies your hands immediately dive to his fly and within seconds his pants are around his ankles… and you were so eager you yanked off his underwear too. Leaning over his waist, you’re now staring down the barrel of his sex pistol, and it’s every bit the monster you expect from Roger’s right hand man.

You rub yourself up against Rayleigh’s thigh, kissing him hard. “Does someone want attention? Or are you just going to sit there and make me do all the work?” Firm hands grab your thighs as you squeal, being hoisted into the air and directly onto Rayleigh’s lap. “Ooh, seems I came in for a rough landing…” you jeer, knowing full well what he is doing. “I guess you did my dear, and what are you going to do about it?” He retorts, a sparkle in his eye sending shivers down your spine.

You begin to grind your clothed pussy against his hard length, hoping to making him eat his words. Somehow, he’s going to wish he just shut up. His grip on your thighs immediately tightens, and you can see his brow furrow in concentration. His hips twitch, as if it’s taking a lot of will not to buck and roll against you. Guess he still wants to keep the air of composure. That won’t last much longer.

You can feel how hot and ready his saber is just waiting for you to sheath him. You have to bite your own lip to hide how much fun you’re having with this, and at the rate it’s going you might draw blood before any other fluid.

You run your hand across his cock, it’s warmth evident. Along with your hand on his shaft, you begin to wiggle, pressing into him. “Two can play that game.” He sneers, cupping your bare breasts in his hands. Kneading softly, he carefully runs his thumbs over the gentle buds, eliciting a squeak from you.

As if it couldn’t get any better, he pulls you as tight as he can against his throbbing dick. Every move you make, you can feel it pulse and throb. You stop for a minute, with Rayleigh pressing his face directly into your cleavage. His beard tickles as he gently shifts his face, looking to the left and to the right.

You don’t know how much longer you can wait. You’re not at your breaking point, however, your core aches to have his thick cock inside of you. Even just thinking about him makes your thighs clench, and you feel a damp spot in your panties.

Just as you think you’re about to give in and beg for more, he lets go of your chest and starts pulling at your waistband. Jackpot, he cracked first~ You put a hand over his and tut at him in playful judgment. “Tsk tsk tsk… someone’s run out of patience I see. But these are my favorite panties, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tear them apart like a wild man, okay?” On wobbly knees you climb off of Rayleigh and bend at the waist to slide the damp garment down your thighs. The fresh air reaching your wet and sensitive nethers is enough to overwhelm you for the moment, and you fall forward onto your hands and knees. Without meaning to, you’ve provided him with the perfect view of your bare sex.

“you know I’m going all out after that torturous foreplay, right?” You give a nod, and hope your body can endure it. That’d be a hell of a way to go out, your corpse being found by your crew mates the next morning with a shattered pelvis and signs of a heart attack from over excitement. But before he enters, you feel his hard cock playfully slide between your asscheeks and down to rub against your folds, causing you to let out a loud moan

Smirking to himself upon hearing your reaction, Rayleigh holds you steady by your waist and slowly presses his way in. He gives a guttural groan at the sensation, while your moan raises in pitch with every inch he buries in you. You push yourself against him, trying to attain more friction. Each inch he puts in adds another layer of pleasure, waves causing you to shudder. Once he is all the way in, he begins with a steady pace and hard thrusts.

Your body shakes with each thrust, your hanging breasts jiggling and swaying as his pelvis claps against your ass. Hands gripping the bedsheets, you try not to get lost in thinking about how deep he’s getting and how full you feel. Pleasure like this had been unimaginable before now, but you don’t want to picture what it would be like if it went away again.

Rayleigh is clearly enjoying himself as well, his grunts and moans soft, but audible enough for you to hear what he says. A curse or an oh god slip out of his mouth every so often, and that turns you on more, quickening your release. Meanwhile, Rayleigh is having an internal struggle of his own, your tight and soaking pussy treating him better than he can recall getting from any other. He wants to enjoy this for as long as he can, but between the mad teasing before and this current euphoria it’s hard to hold the tidal wave back for too much longer.

The two of you continue to rock the bed while the ship rocks in the storm, passion deafening all noise but each other. The wave reaches its crest sooner than you would like but later than you thought with how worked up you were to start with, and Rayleigh hunches over you to keep you close and deep as he finishes. Your orgasmic scream is muffled as he cranes your head back for a deep kiss, and you remain joined at both ends as his pulsing member pumps a hearty load into you.

You sigh, collapsing from exhaustion. Always the gentleman, Rayleigh pulls you up into a comfortable position. “Are you alright?” He questions, a slightly glassy look in his eyes. You gently nod to him and run your hand over his chest with a happy sigh. He pulls the covers over you two, and wraps an arm around your shoulder. What an end to the night.

[btswrckd]

War of Hearts

Mafia Boss!Taehyung x Fem!Reader

Summary: Being in an arranged marriage with Kim Taehyung does not mean you have to be civil. Or make his life easy.

Warnings: mentions of violence, slight angst, mentions of weapons such as guns and knives, brief mention of smut, future smut

A/N: I wanted to post this as a one-shot, but naturally, I couldn’t condense it enough. There’s just too much that can’t be left out. But the good news is that I’m about 90% done with this fic and should be able to post it in maybe 3 parts. Enjoy guys!

Also, title is inspired by War of Hearts by Ruelle. Go listen to her music, it’s amazing!

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“You’re asking me to do what, now?” you hiss through clenched teeth, fingers curling into the underside of the armrest of the boarding room chair. How your idiot cousins managed to both purchase a rather nice building in the middle of the city, and run a legitimate business as a cover to their true nature, is a mystery to you. Yet here you are, ten seconds from launching yourself across the table to strangle either one of them. 

“I don’t believe I stuttered,” Joongki is confident in the way he answers you and buttons his suit jacket. “And I didn’t ask you to do anything, I’m telling you what’s going to happen.”

Your eyes flicker to Jeonghan as he stands by his brother and nervously stuffs his hands into the pockets of his slacks. He catches your eye, licking his busted lip as you raise an eyebrow, as if waiting for him to confirm what Joongki just said. You watch his hand come up to rub at his sore jaw and get some satisfaction as he works his jawbone back and forth.

Joongki lets out a heavy sigh as his brother all but whimpers under your gaze. He was well aware of how much you’d fight their men in getting you to the building, but he wasn’t prepared for the strong swing of your fist, or the nearly deafening sound of said fist cracking his younger brother across the face. 

“We’re all each other has,” Jeonghan finally pipes up after deducing that his jaw was not broken. “This is for your own safety, Y/N. I don’t like it any more than you do but there’s no other option.”

“I will not be thrown under lock and key just because you two have enemies.” You’re standing before either of them can argue. “I didn’t ask for this! For you two to be who you are and making my life more difficult than it already is!”

Joongki scratches at his brow when a mop of messily done up chestnut hair pops up over the cubicle wall separating her from the boarding room. He waves his secretary away with a slight twitch of his lips, watching the flushing of her cheeks and bobbing of her head before it disappears. He’s too busy smirking down at his feet to notice the way you swing around the chair. Or the way Jeonghan desperately reaches to stop you from storming out. What he does notice is the small ‘oomph’ leaving your mouth when you stumble into somebody, and suddenly he’s brought back to the importance of the situation.

You don’t expect to be stopped, you certainly don’t expect to be stopped by a firm chest and steadying hand on your hip. When you finally catch your bearings, you blink up at the man that had somehow walked into the room without making a sound. It’s with a heavy heart that you recognize this man despite having lost contact with him years ago. You were children when you’d last met so it takes you a minute to see him clearly, your eyes roving all over his face. Starting with what used to be his bouncy black locks that were now replaced with slicked down hair, to the never changing intensity of his dark brown eyes, down to the defined jaw that used to harbor a little bit of cute chub, and finally back up to his plush lips that split into a grin. 

“You,” you breathe airily and your stunned reaction only makes his smile grow wider. 

“You,” he mimics and tilts his head playfully, eyebrows raised high in mock surprise. “It’s nice to see you too, princess.”

“Mr. Kim,” Joongki reluctantly smiles while extending his hand to greet his rival, fingers tensing around the man’s answering hand. “Thank you for coming. I’m aware that my brother and I are asking a lot from you and that this situation isn’t exactly ideal for either party, but I just want to thank you for helping us out.”

“I never said this situation wasn’t ideal for me.” Kim Taehyung gave one final squeeze to Joongki’s hand before slipping it into the pocket of his pants. His other hand remains firm on your hip, the heat from his palm burning through the denim of your jeans and making your breath hitch. “I believe my father’s been hoping to merge our families for quite some time. I look at this as an opportunity rather than a ‘situation’.”

“Yes, well.” Joongki shifts uncomfortably on his feet. The Kim family had great influence over 90% of the city and before your grandfather’s passing, Mr. Kim had high hopes of taking two entities and making them one strong force. With your grandfather’s death came the need for new leadership and it fell heavily on Joongki’s shoulders. To say he’d snubbed the Kim family when it came to working together would be putting it lightly. “It seems your father will be getting exactly as he’s always wanted.”

Jeonghan thrusts an elbow to his older brother’s arm. He may not understand the magnitude of being a leader, but he knows when to play nice, and this moment called for practically kneeling down and kissing the Kim family’s feet. He looks to the way you stand stiff in Taehyung’s arms and the curling of your fingers against his suit vest. For a moment, he considers calling the entire thing off and convincing his brother to find another way to keep you safe. He opens his mouth to do just that when Taehyung speaks.

“I have every intention of keeping Y/N safe, be it from whoever is threatening you, my own family, or even you two.” Taehyung’s deep voice rumbles in his chest as his hand pulls you ever so slightly closer. “My father may have wanted this for some time, but believe me when I say that I’ve wanted it longer. Nothing and no one will hurt her, I promise you that.”

Jeonghan and Joongki share a concerned glance with each other before your voice breaks the silence. 

“Kim Taehyung.” His name sounds foreign coming from your mouth. The last time you’d seen him you were being carted away by your parents at the age of 10. The sudden announcement of your family’s move left you waving to a chubby cheeked, teary eyed Taehyung as your father pulled away from your childhood home. They died not soon after and you were taken under the care of your grandfather along with Joongki and Jeonghan. But even after your grandfather reestablished a relationship with the Kim family, you hadn’t seen Taehyung again since that day.

“Princess,” he husks out, eyes dropping to your lips and thumb stroking your hip in soothing circles as if it were going to help any. Something dark is swirling in your eyes as you regard him, and he’s sure you don’t recognize it as lust but he does. He sees it fester and simmer before you blink it away and sneer up at him. 

You cousins simultaneously wince as you draw back and take one quick strike to Taehyung, kneeing him in the groin with a huff before you stomp out of the room. When Taehyung slumps to the floor with a pain filled groan, Joongki feels a bit of sympathy for him. Your temper and raging need to fight against anything and everything to do with this life will be a daily struggle. Jeonghan coughs to hide his laugh as Taehyung’s right hand man looks torn between helping his boss, or chasing you down to make sure you don’t get too far. This will certainly be entertaining to watch.

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“Let go of me!” you grunt out as Taehyung adjusts your frame on his shoulder. You’re kicking and pounding against his back with the hopes of getting free and escaping, but those hopes are dashed when he tosses you on the mattress of the master bedroom. You scramble back against the headboard as he unbuttons the cuffs of his dress shirt and rolls up the sleeves. The frustrated roll of his shoulders and neck is undoubtedly sexy, but it also serves as a reminder that you aren’t meant to find him attractive. At all. As you curse yourself for even thinking as much, he’s snatching your ankles and dragging you down the bed.

Taehyung would never hurt you, he knows that you know that, but watching the small bit of fear flitting across your face has him smirking down at you. He plants both hands on either side of your head to cage you in, hips pressed to yours as you unconsciously widen them to accommodate his frame. “If you wanted to go out, princess, then you could have asked. Jungkookie and Jimin would gladly drive you wherever you want to go.”

“Even away from you?” You glare at him, panic washing over you when you feel the bed dip and he’s on his knees, the added weight pulling you closer to him. His arms slide forward until his nose grazes yours. He’s so close that he could kiss you and you think he’s going to until his nose skims down the length of your neck instead.

“There is no getting away from me, princess,” he whispers against your skin. “I’d think you’d know that by now. You’ve been trying to run from me for the last 6 months and it’s gotten you nowhere.”

You’d beg to differ, Being underneath him was surprisingly pleasant. The push of his hips against yours made you gasp and arch into his chest. You slam your eyes shut to get ahold of yourself, silently reciting your mantra of ‘I’m not a horny teenager, I’m a grown woman, and I am not attracted to my husband’. 

Taehyung could smell the sweet scent of berries on your skin from that damn bottle of lotion you love so much. He didn’t think it was possible to be jealous of an inanimate object but he is. He’s also tempted to throw the stupid thing away and burn down every Bath and Body Works store so you can’t get another one. The image of your hands slathering the cream up and down your smooth legs makes him groan and push against you a little harder. He likes to think he isn’t some creep who forces himself on a girl, and if you weren’t so responsive, he wouldn’t even touch you without permission. 

A lot of men in their line of work didn’t think consent was an issue, some of them even found the fight to be a turn on, and you’re grateful that Taehyung‘s not that kind of man. In fact, he’d said on several occasions that he wouldn’t come closer than necessary if you weren’t okay with it. He even went as far as sleeping in one of the many guest rooms in the house, dropping the one and only key to the master bedroom in your hand so only you had access to it. This went on for 2 months before you’d lashed out and tried sneaking off for a night out with friends. Naturally Taehyung had hunted you down and dragged you back to the house, lecturing you on the dangers of leaving without telling anyone where you’d be. The next morning his things had been moved into the room and he invaded every inch of your space every chance he got. 

You didn’t want to admit that waking up to his face inches from yours was something you’d easily gotten used to, but then again you didn’t actually need to voice it out loud. Not when you’d woken up one morning to find your legs tangled with his, your arms tossed across his torso, and clinging to him like a koala. You had squeaked and fell out of bed in your haste to untangle yourself from him. He had woken up in fear that something happened, but chuckled when he saw you on the floor, blankets and sheets raveled around your legs. Embarrassed and flushed, you’d shot him a glare as he’d gotten out of bed and strode into the bathroom to get ready for the day. 

After that, you had made it your daily mission to see just how far you could push him to his breaking point. Little things such as “accidentally” walking away from Jimin or Jungkook in a crowded area, or turning down a meal that Seokjin had prepared because you were “exhausted” even though you’d done nothing that day, and even taking the hand of Namjoon or Hoseok once or twice instead of Taehyung’s when moving through a room full of people. You could see Taehyung’s frustration boiling beneath the surface and kicked it up a notch by giving your undivided attention to Yoongi during dinner one night. Yoongi of course, knew what you were doing and would have been scared of the repercussions of flirting with you if Taehyung hadn’t trusted him so much.

Yoongi played along with your little show, allowing you to lean in a little too close when talking, whispering in your ear about how much trouble you’d be in if Taehyung snapped, and letting you “subtly” run your finger across his knuckles. He had used his napkin to hide his smile when Taehyung had sprung up from his seat, snatched your wrist, and dragged you to the master bedroom. He had cleaned up the table and clapped Jimin and Jungkook on the shoulders, advising them to use headphones or sleep in the car for the rest of the night.

Taehyung had watched you stumble into the room, descending on you quickly when you had turned to yell at him. Whatever you were going to say had died on your tongue as he backed you against the wall, gripping your chin and hissing something about the possibility of killing Yoongi. You, equally as pissed, began to rant and scream about having your freedom taken away and wanting to teach Taehyung a lesson for confusing your already fogged up brain by being a gentleman rather than the piss poor excuse of a man most gang members are. 

Taehyung had the audacity to smirk, fucking smirk, before crashing his mouth to yours and tangling his hand in your hair. He had tugged at the strands until you gasped and he slipped his tongue in to push against yours. He felt your hands wrenching the fabric of his dress shirt but he didn’t give you room to breathe, instead pressing you against the wall further. At some point he had started toying with the button to your jeans, waiting for your refusal, and when you hadn’t slapped him away, he popped the button open. 

You had gasped loudly at the feel of his fingers, the rough pads running up and down your slit, stopping to press and rub at your clit before he was sinking his fingers in knuckles deep. You didn’t remember much else except for the overwhelming pleasure and the raspy sound of Taehyung, Taehyung, Taehyung echoing around the room. Afterwards, he had avoided you like the plague until you’d finally managed to corner him in the kitchen one night. You’d been huffy, demanding an explanation for his absence. Not that you’d missed him, of course. He’d said that he didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable that night and that he was sorry for losing control, to which you had scoffed. You clarified that discomfort wasn’t what you had felt, you were an adult, and just as willing as he was, and to stop tiptoeing around you.

“Princess,” the bane of your existence growls out, bringing you back to the present. He chuckles, deep and rich, and sends goosebumps across your skin. “For someone who wants to get as far away from me as possible, you don’t seem to be willing to let me go.”

You look down at your hands curled into his shirt and immediately release your hold. It seems you were too caught up in your trip down memory lane to notice. You drop your hands from his chest and avert your eyes to the door where two sharp knocks catch his attention as well. 

“Boss,” Namjoon’s voice drifts through the wood, “your phone’s been ringing like crazy. Your father is trying to reach you.”

Taehyung sighs in disappointment and shifts away, pressing against your core one last time and you squeeze your legs together as if to keep him in place. He recognizes the faint blush on your cheeks as embarrassment and places a soft kiss to your cheek. “Be a good girl and do as you’re told, princess. I know you get a kick out of raising Jungkook’s blood pressure, but raising mine in the process will leave you widowed sooner than you’d think.”

You feel as though you’re finally able to breathe now that he’s out of the room and put a hand to your racing chest. It wasn’t just his blood pressure that’s been spiking lately. You sit up and tuck your arms beneath your legs, resting your chin on your knees. You really thought you were close this time around. The memory of being giddy as you tore through the airport to catch the plane to literally anywhere but here, only to freeze in the middle of the terminal as Taehyung stood in your way with his hands casually tucked in his pockets and his army of men around him. You run your hands through your hair and tug at the roots in anger, cursing your cousins and the day they were born.

Outside, Taehyung tugs at the buttons of his dress shirt while pressing his phone to his ear. “Dad?”

“Either your security system has gone to shit,” Mr. Kim calmly scolds his son, “or there’s a rat in your home. I’m looking through your camera footage as we speak, and unless I’m officially going senile, the cameras look like they’re in some kind of loop.”

“What kind of loop?” Taehyung is already making his way to the security room with Namjoon in tow. 

“A car speeds past your security gate, seemingly at the same exact time every day, same make and model every time too. That’s not a coincidence, son, handle it quickly before it gets out of control.”

“On it.” Taehyung throws open the door to the security room, startling the guys watching the live feed from the cameras. “Where’s Yoongi?”

“Behind you,” Yoongi’s voice makes his presence known, trailing in and sitting at his personal computer to go through the footage Taehyung is there to discuss. “Everyone out.”

The other two men scramble outside with break neck speed. If Yoongi and Taehyung are here then something only they know about is going on, and nobody wants to get caught in the middle of it unless necessary.

“What’s going on with our cameras?” Taehyung looks over Yoongi’s shoulder at the computer screen.

“Nothing,” Yoongi sighs, pressing play on the paused screen while a miniature box with his personal coding pops up in the corner. “I noticed the same gray Tahoe driving down our street every day for the last week, and at first I thought somebody tampered with the cameras, so I built a code to filter through the system and push out whatever was installed to make this look like it’s on a loop. When nothing changed, I did some maintenance on the camera’s themselves, and still nothing. Someone is timing it just right to fool us, because check this out.” Yoongi pulls up another screen, zooming in on the corner of the frame where another car is doing a surprisingly good job of hiding. “So I can’t see who exactly the driver is, but I do know that they wait in this exact spot until the clock hits 3 on the dot. When that happens, they make a call, and out comes the Tahoe. Every. Single. Time.”

“One of ours?” Taehyung’s referring to one of the guys they keep on the property for extra measure. 

“No one here did it. I rifled through their phones, computers, whatever I could and nothing popped up.” Yoongi confirms and points to the screen. “About an hour after the Tahoe zips by the screen, the car in hiding pulls out and goes the opposite direction, also part of tricking the cameras so we think there’s a glitch.”

“And the license plate?” Namjoon chimes in from the seat beside Yoongi.

“Belongs to a little old lady on the other side of the world. Looking for a date, Joon? She likes to read the same books you do and she crochets.” Yoongi jokes, “personally, I’d like a new sweater for Christmas.”

“Find out who it is.” Taehyung doesn’t laugh, not exactly appreciating the joke, and storms out of the room, throwing the door open so wide that it smacks against the wall.

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

You don’t recognize your own reflection. The woman in the mirror with foundation caked on much too heavily, curled and mascara filled lashes, and lips painted in a color that was meant to seem natural, did not look a thing like you. You’re close to wiping your face clean when the door to the room swings open and Jeonghan strolls in like he owns the place. It occurs to you that he probably does. 

“What?” you huff at him as he comes up behind you. 

“I know you’re angry,” he whispers, sadness in his eyes as he meets your reflection. “But we promised grandpa that we’d take care of you. Too much is happening for us to not take precaution. Everyone knows how much you mean to us and if they get to you, we’d be devastated.”

“Then why can’t I go abroad?” you ask, turning to him with pleading eyes and he takes a step back. You see tears building in his eyes as he takes in your appearance. He’s proud, you realize, as a smile spreads across his face. He’s proud of you, proud of who you are as a person despite the kind of business your parents ran. 

“You’re gorgeous, little cousin,” Jeonghan lets out a shaky exhale, unprepared for the whirlwind of emotions slamming into him. “Grandfather, our parents, everybody would have loved to be here. To see you---.”

“Signing my life away?” you don’t let him finish whatever he was going to say. You don’t want to hear it. There was a time when you believed your wedding day would be a celebration, not a life sentence. You look down to the white of your dress, the gown suddenly felt too constricting and you wanted nothing more than to rip it off. “I don’t want this, Joenghan, please don’t make me do this.”

“If this were anyone else, I’d whisk you away without argument.” Jeonghan looks away from your face to keep himself from ruining everything. “But this is Taehyung, Y/N. You used to be friends and you cared so much for each other. We’ve known the Kim family for so long now that this would have happened eventually, don’t you think?”

“I would have still liked to have the option!” You stand from the chair and stalk towards him. “My friendship with Taehyung ended when we were children. I don’t know who he is now or what he’s done to get this far, but I do know that anyone willing to go to this length to get what they want is not someone to be trusted.”

“You’re being dramatic.” Joongki steps into the room and looks to his brother to find relief crossing his face. “It seems I got here just in time, little brother, you look like you’re about to hurl.”

“She scares me,” Jeonghan admits while moving for the door. “Men with guns, knives, even the occasional psychopath I can handle, but Y/N? Nope, that’s asking too much.”

You glare at your cousin slipping outside before you can say more, and you turn to Joongki. “I’m not being dramatic, you jackass, I’m being logical. You guys have hovered over me my entire life, is it so wrong to want control over at least this part of it?”

“I don’t need to remind you that this is for your own safety.” Joongki’s tone is harsh, a complete contrast to Jeonghan, but harsh was something you could fight against. Harsh, you could throw back in his face. The gentle lull of Jeonghan’s voice, you couldn’t, and often found yourself feeling guilty for hurting him.

“I don’t need to remind you that even if my parents were still alive, this isn’t the life I would have chosen,” you spit back at your eldest cousin, watching his shoulders tense. “Even if grandfather were still alive, I would have fought tooth and nail against this just like I am now. What the hell, Joongki? Weren’t you the one that was opposed to merging the families in the first place? And what, because you and Jeonghan pissed off some people, I have to pay the consequences?”

“Powerful people, Y/N,” Joongki hisses at you, “powerful people that wouldn’t think twice about torturing you to get to us.”

“So then this is more about protecting yourselves than it is me?” Your chest rises and falls with the building anger, and he looks at you with so much fire in his eyes that you’re sure Joongki would strike you at any moment. “This is about not having to babysit me anymore and dumping me off on some poor sack whose life I’m about to make a living hell!”

“It was always about you!” Joongki roars, the volume making you drop your eyes to the ground as you had with your grandfather and father. They’d never hit you, never even so much as raised a hand to you, but they were able to correct your behavior with their voices alone. “We didn’t babysit you, Y/N, we took care of you. We are still taking care of you not because we think we’re obligated to, but because you are our baby cousin. The only family we have left and someone is threatening that, threatening you, and if you think that doesn’t haunt us every time you’re out of our sight, then you’re wrong. I’d do this for Jeonghan too if I had to, I’d even do it for myself, as long as all of us are safe and alive. You want to make a mess of Kim Taehyung? Go ahead, turn his life upside down if you want to, so long as you stay under their protection.”

“I don’t want protection, Joongki.” You look back at his face with a trembling lip. “I want freedom. I want to walk down the street without your men trailing me or the fear of looking back and finding that someone else is. This is your world, not mine. This was our parents world, it wasn’t ours until they were gone. They wanted more for us, Joongki, don’t you remember that?”

“I remember their broken and bloodied bodies when they crossed the wrong person. I remember their pale, lifeless faces in their caskets as you curled up in grandfather’s lap and fought your sleep for weeks afterwards. I remember the way you screamed every time you shut your eyes because all you could see was ‘the bad man with a gun’. I remember promising grandfather that I would do whatever it took to keep you and Jeonghan from suffering the same fate that our parents did.”

You turn away from him to peer out of the window, seeing the guests that consisted solely of friends and family on Taehyung’s side. Children ran across the yard, parents scolded them for dirtying their clothes, and as you glanced around you spotted Taehyung. He was standing with Jungkook, a man he kept close to his side out of trust, nodding along to whatever Jungkook was saying. There was no denying how handsome Taehyung was, or the way it sent shivers up your spine when a little girl ran to him and he scooped her up without hesitation. You didn’t know what the little girl was excited about, but you could guess it had to do with your soon to be husband with the way she looked at him with stars in her eyes. His eyes were warm when he looked at her, accepting the little flower she’d picked from the garden around the side of the house. He tucked it into the pocket of his suit jacket, right where his heart was, and patted it gently in promise to keep it on. He set her down and she ran off with a giggle and a blush across her cheeks. You were staring too long, you knew, because he felt it. Taehyung peered up at the window in time to catch you moving away. 

“Y/N,” Joongki whispers to catch your attention. “Please don’t be stubborn about this. Taehyung’s family may run in the same circles as our parents, but they’ve always been kind to us. My refusal to bring the families closer didn’t stop them from keeping a relationship with us.”

“Maybe it’s out of pity.” You try one last time to get under his skin, but you know better than anyone that he’s tired. Tired and defeated and hanging on by a thread.

“Even if it was out of pity, that’s something we can use right now.” He comes up behind you, smoothing down the back of your hair and leaving a kiss to the top of your head. He presses his forehead to the spot he just kissed and sighs. “Mr. Kim could think the lowest of me and the mess I’ve made of our family’s reputation, and I’d still take his help if it meant I didn’t lose you or my brother.”

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

“You know, eventually,” Jimin sighs tiredly, trailing behind Taehyung as they walk into the house, “people are going to call the cops for kidnapping.”

“The cops aren’t stupid enough to go against our family,” Taehyung grunts out, the squirming and fidgeting nearly made him lose his grip more than once. It was admirable, at first, when you’d begun thrashing against him, believing you could truly break free. Now, it was a nuisance, and he promptly drops you on your ass in the middle of the living room.

“Asshole!” You seethe, jumping back to your feet and wincing at your sore bottom. You have no idea what set Taehyung off at the mall, but you’re pissed that he ruined the first outing you were actually excited about. One minute, you were browsing through your favorite section at the bookstore, and the next, he was dragging you out by the hand. In the car on the way over, he hadn’t spoken a word, refusing to explain himself, so you refused to get out of the car when Jungkook pulled into the driveway. Apparently, Taehyung wasn’t so mad that he couldn’t throw you over his shoulder and march into the house. 

“Jesus, Taehyung, what the hell is your problem?!”

“Who was he?” Taehyung demands, shooing Jimin and Jungkook to the other room. He grits his teeth when Jungkook hesitates to move. ”Jeon Jungkook, did I or did I not tell you leave?”

“You’re pissed, Taehyung, and look like you could tear someone’s head off,” Jungkook fires right back and looks past his boss to you. You may not be afraid of Taehyung’s temper, but Jungkook is. He’s seen what Taehyung and his temper could do to things and people, and he’ll be damned if you end up hurt because of it.

“That head could be yours if you don’t get the hell out of my sight,” Taehyung snaps, “go!”

“Go, Kook,” you agree with Taehyung. You’ve never seen him go at Jungkook like this and it isn’t helping if Jungkook keeps defying Taehyung, so removing him from the situation seems like the logical answer at the moment. “It’s ok. Just go, please.”

Jungkook clenches his jaw and turns to leave with much reluctance. He’s out of sight but not out of ear shot when Jimin meets him halfway. “He’s going to hurt her, you and I both know that.”

“It’s not as serious as you think.” Jimins pats his shoulder, reassuring him that everything will be fine. “You know that someone’s been circling the house, and had Y/N not insisted on going out today, then Taehyung wouldn’t have been so on edge to start with. There’s too many people at the mall, too many entrances and exits, too many cracks to be slipped through, too many opportunities for someone to get at Y/N if they tried. Trust me, Jungkookie, this anger that you think Taehyung has is actually fear, okay? So leave them be to hash it out and we’ll go running in the second something seems off.”

Back in the living room, Taehyung is pacing, running a hand down his face, and seeming like he’s having trouble putting into words what exactly he’s upset about. When he finally stops, it’s simply to stalk towards you and stand toe to toe. “Why are there rules, princess, hm? Why do I tell you to stick to Jungkook and Jimin like glue when we’re out? Why do you think I stick to you like fucking glue when we’re out?”

“Oh, so it’s ‘princess’ now?” you scoff. “A minute ago, you wouldn’t say a damn thing, but now you’re asking me to recite some bogus ass rules like I’m in primary school. You don’t get to be pissed in this situation, Taehyung, not when I’m the one who’s getting zero explanation for your outburst.”

“I don’t need to explain myself,” he raises his voice, not quite yelling. “I need you to fucking listen when one of us tells you to do something. The guys aren’t here for decoration, Y/N, they’re here to keep you safe, but they can’t do that when you insist on being a brat.”

“I’m not a fucking brat!” you screech loud enough for half the world to hear. It’s actually surprising that Taehyung’s eardrum didn’t burst. 

“Well, you’re not exactly a fucking saint,” Taehyung counters and it’s your turn to start pacing, your hands gripping onto the roots of your hair.

“Oh, my God,” you laugh humorlessly, “Oh, my God, oh my God, oh my fucking God, Kim Taehyung! You irritating, overbearing, senseless piece of---.” You don’t know what possesses you to swing your hand out, palm open, and try to slap his face.

He catches your wrist, sees the immediate regret in your eyes, yet still hauls you to the nearby wall. He presses you to the plastered surface, using his free hand to box you in so you can’t run away. Truthfully, he’d let go the second you ask, but a line has to be drawn. You have to, absolutely have to start listening to him and the other guys, otherwise something could go very, very wrong.

“Want to hit me, princess?” he hisses inches from your face as he leans in. “Want to get violent because you can’t do whatever you want anymore? That’s pretty ironic for someone who cried at the mere thought of being hit. I can barely raise my hand to you, but you can swing at me all you want, is that it? That’s not how it works, princess, I suggest you learn that real quick. Now you owe me something for trying to hit me. I let that shit go when you first kneed me in the balls, so it’s more like you owe me two, but I’m nice enough to collect on just one. Tell me who your little friend was in the bookstore.”

You’d like to think you’re not scared, yet it was evident what Taehyung was really capable of when pushed too far. He’s been patient with you, far too patient, and willingly plays along with whatever bullshit you pull for the day. It’s amazing he hasn’t broken your wrist for trying to slap him. Especially, when you know good and well that you wouldn’t hesitate to break his if the roles were reversed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. There was no friend in the bookstore.”

“The guy, princess,” he hisses, momentarily tightening his grip. “The guy in the store that was happily chatting you up. Who was he?”

You wrack your brain for this person he’s talking about and it’s like a cartoon light bulb goes off above your head. “The man who was talking to me about the book in my hand?”

“Yes, that guy.”

“He’s not a friend,” you insist, glaring at your husband, “just some stranger trying to hit on me. Is that what this is about? Some random guy trying to get my number? Your jealousy is really unparalleled, Kim.” 

“I wasn’t jealous. Even if I was, you wouldn’t be the one I’d take it out on.That ring on your finger is there for a reason, anyone who can’t respect it or the boundaries it represents won’t live to see the next day. I’m asking about this ‘random’ guy because I don’t think he was random at all, I think he approached you with a purpose.”

“Contrary to popular belief, not everyone is afraid of you, Taehyung.” You relax now that he’s calmer than before. The grip on your wrist was loose and he was drawing patterns on your skin with his thumb. 

“No, princess, they’re not afraid of me in front of you because they have a hard time believing anyone as gorgeous as you would have anything to do with someone like me.” He slumps against your frame, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. “I shouldn’t have scared you like that. I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” you ask with shaky breaths. It wasn’t easy to hold him up and he wasn’t even putting his full weight on you. “Better yet, why didn’t you ask him right then and there?”

“Where do you think he is now, baby?” Taehyung opens his mouth against your neck, working the flesh between his teeth and using his tongue to soothe the sting before he bites down again. He feels your fingers grip his hair, to hold him in place or tug him away, he doesn’t know. He just knows that you haven’t recoiled from his touch yet.

Your head lulls back and your eyes shut on their own accord. Your hand also has a hard time listening to your brain as it reaches out to hook a finger in his belt loop and pull him closer. He obliges, using one knee to part your thighs and press against you. The sudden feel of his muscled thigh putting pressure against your clothed core makes you jump in his hold. When he flexes that muscle, you gasp and buck your hips. So he does it again, and again, and again until you’re riding his thigh, and he’s moving his mouth to the other unmarked side of your neck.

You choose an awfully slow pace for someone trying to get off. Taehyung’s done marking up the skin of your neck with deep shades of purple and can finally pull back a bit to admire you. He presses his forehead to yours as you let out a breathless moan and your face contorts with pleasure. You’re riding him slow, but with a purpose, he realizes, intent on enjoying every single push and pull of your hips. Both of your hands lock together at the nape of his neck and you whimper at your building orgasm. You don’t recall the coil in your belly winding as tight as it is right now with anyone else. No, only Taehyung can evoke this kind of reaction. 

You know he can feel the wet patch growing on his pants and you’re thankful that he doesn’t comment on it. In fact, he’s rather quiet for someone who’d been scolding you just moments before. You don’t look at his face, not purposefully ignoring him, but completely mesmerized by the deep onyx color of his pants growing even deeper the wetter it gets. You clench around nothing, nearly sobbing at the empty feeling and rocking your hips just a little bit faster than before. You want more, you need more, you need, “your hand,” you gasp out to him. “I need your hand, Tae, please.”

“I can’t do that ,baby,” he groans at having to deny you, ready to shoot himself in the foot for being all too in control. “If I touch you, I won’t stop.”

“You did before.” You want to cry. You’re probably going to cry soon if you don’t get what you want.

“Barely, princess. I barely controlled myself last time. If I do it now, I’ll take you against this wall, and then every other surface of this house. You’re not ready for that yet. You can do this. Cum against me like this, baby, I know you can.”

You’re close, so fucking close but then...

“Hey, boss-- oh shit, sorry!” Seokjin’s shoes squeak against the tiled floor as he quickly spins around to face literally anywhere but you and Taehyung. “Uh, Namjoon and Hoseok need you for something.”

 “What?” Taehyung growls out, watching your entire neck and face flush a deep shade of red out of embarrassment. “What could they possibly fucking need in this exact moment that you can’t handle, Seokjin?”

“Uh, th-they didn’t say,” Seokjin stammers, silently cursing Namjoon and Hoseok for sending him to get Taehyung instead of doing it themselves. Those little bastards had to have known Taehyung was busy. And you. Oh, the look on your face when you saw him hurt his heart. He knows how mortified you feel at having been caught. He can hear the rustling of clothes as you gather yourselves, the panting breaths of two frustrated adults doing adult things, and holy crap Seokjin wants nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. “I can tell them you’re busy, if you need me to.”

“No!” you squeak, shoving Taehyung away harder than you meant to, and Seokjin jolts at the octave of your voice. “I mean, no. Tae’s not...Taehyung isn’t busy. I’m-- I have to be...anywhere that’s not here.”

Seokjin hears you run off, the patting of your shoes carries you across the house with speed he didn’t think anyone but an olympic track star had. He doesn’t want to turn around. He’d kill to not have to turn around.

“If this isn’t as urgent as they made it out to be,” Taehyung’s voice is steely, cruel as he approaches Seokjin, “then all 3 of you are getting tossed into the river, do you hear me?”

“Understood.” Seokjin holds his breath while Taehyung shoulders past him, ducking his head down and following close behind.

Yoongi is busy deleting all the footage from the past hour when Taehyung barges in. “I’m already on it, and no, I didn’t watch it. I’m not some greasy perv. None of the other guys were in here either. I kicked them out as soon as you had Jungkook and Jimin leave you two alone.”

“Right now, Yoongi, you and Jimin are the only ones safe from me.” Taehyung leaves feeling a little bit better knowing that you’d at least be spared from the entire house knowing what happened. 

Seokjin stops in the doorway of the security room. “You little kiss ass.”

“Don’t get mad at me because I’m doing my job.” Yoongi smirks at him. “It’s not my fault Namjoon and Hobi threw you under the bus.”

“So they did know!” Seokjin has half a mind to pummel the both of them.

“Oh, they knew. Namjoon was actually on his way to the living room when Jimin and Jungkook stopped him.”

“I’ll kill them,” Seokjin swears, “I’ll kill all of them.”

“Seokjin, get your ass over here now!” Taehyung’s voice booms, making Seokjin jump and scurry in his direction. 

Namjoon and Hoseok are in the garage, standing a few feet away from the poor bastard tied to a chair. When Taehyung had called them earlier to pick up the guy talking to you at the bookstore, they didn’t imagine he’d look like an average Joe. Guys in the mafia tend to dress nice, carry themselves a certain way, even walk and talk a certain way. But this guy. This guy looks like he could be an accountant or a librarian.

“Man, this is going to really suck if he’s not working for anyone,” Hoseok comments, almost feeling guilty. “He really could be just some guy who saw a pretty girl and tried to get her number.”

“I’d agree if he wasn’t carrying Cecil’s business card.” Namjoon hands the man’s wallet to Hoseok.

“It must be nice to have such a big ego that you’d make professional hitman cards and label them as ‘business’.” Hoseok rifles through the wallet, pulling out credit cards, debit cards, cash, a few photos, until he finally finds a little white paper with Cecil’s number scrawled across it. “I’d hardly call this a business card.”

“Hobi, focus,” Namjoon reminds him, tilting his head in the man’s direction.

“Alright.” Hoseok approaches the man and bends to his sitting height, producing an I.D. card. “Sunho. How do you know Y/N?”

“Who?” Sunho whimpers, blood seeping from his busted lip. “I-I don’t even know who that is.”

“Seemed pretty chummy with her in the bookstore this afternoon.”

“That girl?” Sunho is quick to shake his head. “I just thought she was really cute, that’s all. I didn’t know she was married.”

“Ok, then how do you know Cecil?” Hoseok moves on to the next question without missing a beat. 

“I don’t, I swear!”

“Why else would you have his card?” Namjoon asks as the garage door swings open, a very pissed looking Taehyung strolling in a second later. He whistles low and grips the back of Hoseok’s shirt to haul him out of Taehyung’s path. 

“Oh, hey, Seokjin.” Hoseok shoots him a teasing smile. “I see you were able to get Taehyung’s attention.”

“I swear to God, I will fuck you up right here and now, Hobi.” Seokjin glares at the younger man before turning his attention to Taehyung and Sunho. 

“Sunho,” Taehyung sighs, rolling his neck and shoulders. “I was very, very fucking busy inside my home and I was interrupted before anything productive got done.” He shoots forward and braces his hands on the arms of the chair Sunho is tied to. “So you see, I’m not in the mood for playing games. I’m going to explain to you how this works very carefully. Ready?”

Sunho manages a pathetic nod and Taehyung stands straight while undoing the buttons of his shirt sleeves and rolls them up his forearms. He swallows the saliva gathered on his tongue, panic washing over him when Taehyung produces a crowbar from the workbench he’s only now seeing.

“I’m going to ask you a few questions,” Taehyung explains, pointing one end of the crowbar at Sunho. “If you answer me honestly, I’ll let you go. Pay for the hospital bill that’s sure to wrack up given what these two have done to you,” he pauses to point at Namjoon and Hoseok, “and set you up for life as an apology. Sound fair?” He doesn’t wait for Sunho’s reply before continuing. “But if you lie to me, this crowbar will be the least of your worries, definitely one of the less painful weapons in our arson. Now tell me, how do you know Cecil?” 

Sunho’s face is covered in tears by the time Taehyung is finished talking. His body shakes with how hard he sobs. “He ap-approached me last month, p-paid me $3,000 to drive a gray Tahoe down whatever street his guys called from. I didn’t think anything of it, until it got really weird. I noticed they’d only call me once a day at 2 or 2:30, tell me to wait at the end of your block until it hit 3 on the hour and then drive past the gate. They gave me your wife’s picture and told me to keep an eye out for her. When I realized they were stalking her, I thought I should warn her.”

“So you followed us to the mall?” Taehyung asks, crouching down to look Sunho in the eye. He uses the end of the crowbar to lift Sunho’s chin up. “What did you say to her?”

“I didn’t know what I could say,” Sunho sobs harder. “I mean, I-I was helping them stalk her. She’d think I was crazy if I just came right out and said it. So, I just walked up and asked her about the book she had. I didn’t know what the fucking title was, I just knew she had to be warned. I didn’t get that far before you came up and took her away.”

“Did Cecil tell you what he wanted with her?”

“No. Just to drive the car and watch out for her.”

Taehyung looks back to Hoseok, taking the picture from his outstretched hand. He observes the photo quietly. “These your kids, Sunho?”

“Yes.” Sunho’s bottom lip trembles. “Please don’t hurt them! Please! They’re just kids to a shitty father drowning in debt. They didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Did Cecil threaten them?” Seokjin comes up behind Taehyung, scanning the faces of two kids that couldn’t more than 8 and 10 years old. 

“He said I could either take the job willingly,” Sunho cries, snot and tears mixing together at his top lip, “or I could watch him torture my kids until I accept it.”

“Where are they now?”

“Their grandparents’ house. Their mother died 3 years ago, it’s just me and them. I gave them to their grandmother the same day Cecil came to me.”

“Why you?” Hoseok wonders aloud. “There’s professionals out there to get jobs like this done. Hell, even Cecil’s guys, as dumb as they are, could do a better job than you did. Their morality wouldn’t get in the way either, that’s for sure. So what makes you so special for a job like this?”

“My kids’ mother.” Sunho releases a fresh round of tears. “She was a girl he’d taken care of in her teenage years when she was a waitress at some dingy dive bar. There was an accident 3 years ago. A head on collision with a drunk driver. Cecil hates that I survived but she didn’t. This is his way of getting back at me, I guess.”

Taehyung stands, makes his way to the workbench, and drops the crowbar on it. He braces his hands against the bench as Namjoon steps up next to him. “Yoongi?”

“Pulled up hospital records, a death certificate, and foreclosure notices on the house,” Namjoon confirms Sunho’s story. “It all checks out.”

“Get the kids, take Sunho, and get them as far away from here as possible. We’ll clean up his debt and set him up with enough to get himself started again.” Taehyung nods at Namjoon, but stops him before he gets too far away. “You make sure he understands that he needs to get his shit together. And to call us if anything happens, we’ll move his family again if we have to. Go.”

Namjoon gestures Hoseok to follow his lead, untying Sunho and ushering him into one of the many SUVs in the garage. He slides into the driver’s seat as Hoseok jumps into the passenger side, and he backs out of the garage to start his orders.

“Think Cecil would know we’d look into Sunho and set up fake accounts?” Seokjin asks Taehyung, following him on their way out of the garage.

“Yoongi will catch it if anything is fake.” Taehyung undoes the top three buttons on his dress shirt. It’s late, he’s exhausted, and he just wants to climb into bed next to you as soon as possible.

“Do you think Cecil’s after Y/N herself, or just trying to get to the Seong brothers?” 

“We’ll be finding out soon.” Taehyung claps Seokjin on the shoulder before going his separate way. “And yes, Seokjin, it was important, so you can sleep peacefully knowing that you get to see tomorrow.”

You’re sitting cross-legged in the middle of the king size bed, crossword book out, and pencil scribbling across the empty spaces, when Taehyung comes back into the room. You want to say something, want to talk about what happened, but it wasn’t the first time the two of you had gotten a little too carried away. Well, more so you than him earlier when you’d begged for his touch, and then Seokjin had walked in. You’ve never, in your entire life, been more humiliated and turned on at the same time, and some part of your brain insists that it really wouldn’t have been bad if Seokjin hadn’t interrupted. You certainly wouldn’t have had to take a cold shower, that’s for sure.

“You’re still up,” Taehyung comments softly as if he hadn’t seen the light peeking out from underneath the door. He’d dismissed Jungkook before opening the door, expecting you to have simply fallen asleep while reading as usual. He’s unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it from his shoulders when his ears pick up the rustling of bedsheets. 

His back muscles flex with each move and you bite down on your tongue for composure. “You didn’t apologize to Kook for snapping at him earlier.”

“Jungkook understands that when he’s told to do something, he does it. If he wants to fight back against his orders and be a rebel, then he’s going to be treated as such.” Taehyung unclasps the watch on his wrist, setting it down on the dresser. “If sometimes I go too far, they don’t expect an apology.”

“Because you don’t know how to give one?” Your tone is sarcastic and it makes him smile even though you can’t see his face. “Or you just don’t want to?”

“Because I don’t need to.” His hands reach for his belt, unbuckling the leather band and sliding it out from the loops of his pants. “We’ve been a tight group for a long time, but I’m still their boss and sometimes I need to be more strict than usual. The fact that Jungkook hasn’t been strung up by his feet and left to bleed out for arguing with me earlier says a lot already.”

“I know,” you answer immediately, having seen that very scenario dozens of times before either by accident or because your grandfather wanted to remind you and your cousins of what happens to people that can no longer be trusted. “This is the only time Jungkook’s gone against you, Taehyung, you know that.”

Taehyung whirls around to face you, understanding and patience written all over his face. “I need to make sure that it stays the only time he’ll go against me. The only reason he isn’t dead now is because it was on your behalf, which is his job. Yes, it’s unfair of me to be pissed at him for doing exactly what he’s supposed to, but when you’re with me there’s nothing to be afraid of and he needs to understand that.”

“Something in you scared him today,” you argue as he turns back to the dresser, pulling out a pair of sweats and plain gray t-shirt. “Something in you scared me. It’s like a switch went off inside of your head and you became an entirely different person.”

“I am who I need to be when the situation calls for it.” Taehyung steps up to the bed and braces one arm on the mattress as he leans closer, touching his forehead to yours. “I didn’t mean to scare you, princess, that’s my fault and I’m sorry. I want to say you’ll never have to see it again, but you know as well as I do that it would be a lie. What I can tell you is that it won’t always happen, I swear that to you. Right now, with whatever Joongki and Jeonghan have going on, and the spike in threats against your family, the boys and I are on edge more than normal.” He cups your face with his other hand after dropping his spare clothes to the bed. “It won’t always be this way.”

You don’t know what you’ve done in your past life to have fallen into the Kim family, or what you did to deserve one of the rarer, kinder mafia bosses that is Kim Taehyung. You’ve come to realize that you don’t hate Taehyung or any of the boys, but you hate the circumstances behind your being in his home. You’ve always detested this life and after your grandfather’s death, you vowed to get away from it. You didn’t take into account how quick Joongki would jump to throw you under lock and key, only ever gifting the small amount of freedom that came with having to attend your full time job. 

Taehyung hadn’t expected your kiss, the soft press of your lips against his and the touch of your fingers wrapping around his wrist has goosebumps rising on his skin. You don’t kiss him often, only when you’re out at a charity event or at dinner with his parents, and even then it’s a small peck to keep up appearances. You push your tongue against his and he groans, slipping his fingers into your hair and stepping back as you rise up to your knees. The soft pads of your fingers trace up the path of his jawline until they tangle in his soft black locks, and then you’re tugging on the strands to tip his head back.

His other hand is at your hip, thumb slipping beneath the hem of your pajama shirt to rub circles in your skin. He doesn’t know what brought on this sudden affection, but he isn’t complaining. Your fingers card through his hair, one hand tracing down the broad plain of his chest and bare skin burning the tips of your fingers as they reach the waistband of his pants. He hisses out a small ‘fuck’ against your mouth when your hand slips into his boxers, toying with the length of him. Holy shit, he’s huge, and you moan into another kiss as you have a hard time wrapping your fingers around his cock. He’s thick and long, you note, using the tips of your nails to gently trace the veins running along his shaft. Precum pools at the tip and you circle your thumb around him to gather enough of it before pumping your hand down, then back up, and then back down again. 

“What are you doing, princess?” Taehyung nearly chokes on the words as he pulls away from the kiss. You’ve built up a steady rhythm and he’s very near collapsing to his knees if you keep this up. He grits his teeth as the hand in his hair dives into his boxers to join the other, pumping along his cock in tandem. His fingers tighten in your hair, twisting the locks at the base of your neck and you gasp gently at the feeling. 

“Earlier, in the living room,” you whisper against his lips, “I was so close to coming against your thigh, but then Seokjin walked in.”

“To be fair,” he growls out and bucks his hips against your hands, “I threatened to kill him for it, so---.” He does choke this time as you squeeze him just a little harder.

“You know what happened when I came back to the room, Tae?” You give him a sweet smile, but you know he can see the devious intentions behind it. “I got stuck having to take a cold shower. I’d blame Jin, but you’re the one who started it, aren’t you?”

“Baby,” he groans, “please don’t---.”

You’re pulling back, taking your hands with you, and falling back onto the mattress before he can finish his plea. You bounce slightly against the bed as you giggle at the death glare he gives you, his chest is heaving and a thin sheen of sweat coats his brow. “Not so fun when it’s you, is it, Tae?”

Taehyung heaves out a shaky breath and runs a hand through his hair. “Alright, fine. I take responsibility for leaving you the way I did.” He snatches your ankles, chuckling at the yelp that leaves you, and drags you down the bed. He spreads your thighs to make room for his hips and rocks against you. The thin material of your pajama pants does nothing to shield the feeling of his hard on pushing against your clothed core. You still feel every inch of him and your mouth drops open as he grinds his hips. “But what you call punishment, I call a reward, princess.”

He’s gone in the blink of an eye, his laugh echoing from the bathroom, and you bolt up to hurl a pillow at the door. Why is he so much better at this than you are?!

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

Taehyung’s home is gorgeous. Well, you suppose it’s your home now too, but the fact that you’re about to be thrown into a house full of strange men and monitored 24 hours a day, doesn’t take away from its beauty. You thought the security gates were a little much when Jungkook first drove through them, yet it’s clear now why they’re necessary. A two story estate looms over you as Jungkook opens the SUV door so you can climb out. 

“Welcome home, princess.” Taehyung stands in the middle of the foyer, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his dress pants. He’d had every intention of being with you in that SUV after the reception, but his father had hauled him away for some ‘unfinished business’ with the Ahn family. 

“More like a prison,” you mutter while Jungkook takes the backpack hanging from your shoulder. He hoists it over his own and grabs the handle of your rolling suitcase, waiting to see what your next move is. “The word ‘home’ doesn’t exactly come to mind, Kim.”

Taehyung hums, crossing the foyer in quick strides before he’s gripping your chin and pulling you so close that you stand on the tips of your toes. He feels the clenching of your jaw against his fingers and briefly worries that you’ll end up chipping a tooth with how hard you grind your teeth together. “Call it what you want, Y/N, but this is where you’ll be for a very long time. I suggest you get used to it.”

“Boss.” Jungkook clears his throat, eyes darting to the strong grip Taehyung has on your face before they’re matching his gaze. The slight tilting of his head serves as a warning and Taehyung nods in recognition before releasing his hold. When Jungkook had first been told that he would be your personal guard from now on, he vowed to do his best, even if it meant going against Taehyung from time to time. 

You sneer at Taehyung when he smiles at Jungkook. Whatever passes between them in the look they share is unclear, and it bothers you. If Taehyung’s rough handling was meant to scare you, and Jungkook’s swift response to it was meant to deter that fear, then they were both failing. Miserably. It’s not that you’re afraid of Taehyung, that couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s how quick he can be at changing his entire persona in a matter of seconds. 

Jungkook puts his free hand on the small of your back to guide you forward, leaving the foyer and entering the living room. He watches you scan the surroundings, gaze lingering a little too long on the loose objects Taehyung has chosen to decorate with. He makes a mental note to have those removed for the time being until you’re settled in enough to not try and kill Taehyung. It’s understandable that you’re frustrated, and angry, and hurt, but it’s also easy for those feelings to boil over and turn into something disastrous. He leads you through the room to the adjoining dining room, then the kitchen, and finally stopping at a door. 

“It’s your room,” he explains as he opens the door and shuffles inside the much too big room meant for you. It’s bigger than the entirety of your last two apartments combined. He sets your backpack on the bed before rolling your suitcase over to the dresser in the corner of the room. Leaving the suitcase be for you to unpack at your leisure, he moves for the bathroom that you didn’t even notice was there at first. He comes out soon after and pulls open the doors to the walk-in closet, scanning it from top to bottom.

He’s checking for anything out of place, you realize, as Jungkook seems satisfied enough to make his way back to you. He isn’t anything like you imagined Taehyung’s men would be, the first couple of encounters with him should have been enough to tell you that. You had just been so adamant in hating this part of it to realize that Jungkook would most likely end up being your only friend. Your actual friends weren’t invited to the wedding out of fear of who may have been there. Exposing them to this life was never an option and you’d been doing a damn fine job of it since high school. Until Jeonghan had spilled the beans about your upcoming nuptials and the girls became giddy. Their faces had dropped when you lied that only a handful of people could attend, and they weren’t on the guest list. It took weeks of groveling for them to finally cave and forgive you.

“Y/N?” Jungkook’s voice snaps you from your thoughts. He quirks a brow when you shake your head in apology. “Are you alright?”

“I was just thinking,” you say, letting your eyes float around the room once more. “Thank you, Jungkook.”

“Of course.”

“Not just for checking the room,” you clarify, “but for not making me feel so out of place. I really appreciate it.”

“Jungkookie’s always been good at making people comfortable,” a voice has you spinning around quickly, a hand pressed to your racing heart. The owner of the voice beams like he’s just won the lottery, clearly amused at successfully scaring you. “Y/N. I’m Park Jimin. I’ll be accompanying you and Jungkook every time we leave the grounds.”

“Right,” you heave. Catching your breath seems to be a new level of difficulty for some reason. Well, there was one reason, actually.

Taehyung had been right behind you and Jungkook the entire time. Quietly observing you and the reaction you’d have to the house. He’d also been leaning against the doorjamb while Jungkook combed through the room. Which means he’d also heard your gratitude for the younger man and you pale at the thought of what might happen to Jungkook now. Not all bosses like when their wives become chummy with other men, especially if it’s a man they trust, and you fear you may have gotten Jungkook in trouble.

“Do you think of Jungkookie as comfortable, princess?” Taehyung pins you with a stare that you can’t quite decipher. He sees the look of panic in your eyes as you struggle for words. When you open your mouth to answer, he cuts you off with a stern, “Don’t. Lie. To me.”

“Yes,” you reply breathlessly, clenching your hands into fists. Fear runs down your spine when Taehyung pushes away from the door and draws near. You flinch when his hand reaches out, your body going stiff to brace for the sting of his palm against your cheek. But he doesn’t hit you, his hand frozen mid-air at your reaction. It’s when you feel the slight tug on a single strand of hair that you realize he’d meant to pet your head. You meet his eyes with tears welling in your own, chest rising and falling with short, rapid breaths.

“I’d never hurt you, Y/N,” Taehyung whispers, reaching out once more to graze the backs of his fingers against your cheek. The wet heat of a single tear sliding down your face catches on his knuckles and he grits his teeth. “Has anyone ever hit you before?”

Jungkook and Jimin immediately come closer to hear your answer. If anyone had ever laid a hand on you, they wouldn’t wait for Taehyung’s order to find and kill whoever it was. You aren’t just the boss’ wife, you’re theirs to protect now, and they intend on doing just that.

“No.” You turn away from Taehyung’s touch, drawing back to both create some much needed space, and to reel in the flood of emotions you didn’t expect to feel. Being a leader in a crime syndicate meant being vicious and violent, even to your own family if it proved a point. Taehyung was neither of those things, a heavy reminder of how gentle your father and grandfather would be with any woman or girl important to them. “No one’s ever...it’s just something I’ve seen many times before, is all.”

“To someone important?”

“To people who were people and deserved to be treated as such. Not like the punching bags they became because their boss couldn’t push aside his pride or ego.” You take another step back only to bump into Jungkook’s chest. Damn it. Too many people surround you, too many are witness to how easily you can crumble, and you want them out. You want room to breathe and catch your bearings. You also want the privacy to unpack your stuff.

“Out,” Taehyung demands from Jungkook and Jimin, neither men hesitate to do as they’ve been told. He moves for the door right after them, hesitating with his hand on the knob. Looking back over his shoulder, he sees you pulling a laptop from your backpack, along with a few romance novels and a jumbo book of crossword puzzles. 

“Jimin isn’t the only one of the members you’ll be meeting today,” the softness of Taehyung’s voice makes your chest tight as you look up at him. “There’s 3 others roaming around here somewhere and another that’s away on an assignment, but he’ll be back soon.”

You nod your understanding, picking up a book to occupy your hands to keep your fingers from picking at the cuticles of your nails. It was something you’d always done when you got nervous, a bad habit that needed to be gotten rid of.

“I don’t want to do this to you, princess,” he states it like an apology as you draw your brows together in confusion, “but I’m going to take your laptop and phone.”

“Why?” One hand immediately falls to the computer he’s stepping back into the room for. You almost wrestle it away when his long fingers swipe it from the bed. “It’s important, Taehyung. I use it to edit my friend’s photos. She’s a photographer and I help her clean them up when she needs it.”

“I know you do, sweetheart.” He grips the computer closer to his side and holds his palm out. “You’ll get it back soon, I promise. I need your phone.”

“What if Joongki and Jeonghan call?” you scoff, because of fucking course Taehyung knows what you do in your spare time. “They’ll get worried if I don’t answer.”

“That’s a pretty weak excuse given how you tore into them after the reception. I might not have left with you, but I heard all about the way you swore you wouldn’t be speaking to your cousins anytime soon.”

“My friends will think I’m dead if I don’t answer their texts.”

“Your friends,” Taehyung steps closer and leans in, hovering inches away from your lips, “know that you got married today. They know that you’ll be occupied with your new husband. I can bet they’re wondering what you’re doing right this second, but can’t bring themselves to ask lest they interrupt what may be going on.”

Your back hits a wall you hadn’t realized he’d been backing you into. He’s not close enough to touch, yet that’s exactly what you want to do and find yourself pressing the book in your hand to his chest instead.

“I bet they’re wondering if you’re enjoying yourself,” he continues, pressing his forehead against yours. The back of your head thumps against the wall gently with the pressure as he uses it to keep your eyes on him. “They’re wondering if your new groom satisfies you enough, princess. If he’s kissing you like you deserve to be, touching you in all the right places,” his free hand clamps onto your waist, thumb dipping beneath the hem of your shirt to feel your skin, “if he’s able to hit that right spot inside of you over, and over, and over.”

Your breath hitches when his hand slides higher beneath the t-shirt you’d stupidly changed into before coming to the house. His fingers are hot against your skin as they’re splayed along your ribcage.

“I can do all of that for you if you’ll let me, princess,” Taehyung growls without meaning to. He’d only meant to distract you enough to take your phone. However, he’d somehow managed to arouse both himself and you with the way you clench your thighs together. Still, even knowing how turned on you are, he doesn’t press any closer than he already is. His hand doesn’t move any further up your torso though his thumb still rubs smooth circles on your skin. “I can make you feel so good, you’d forget your own name.”

You inhale sharply. You know he can and that he’d be the best you ever had. But giving in now, on your very first hour inside the new house, would be grounds for Taehyung to think you’re actually on board with this whole thing. So you do what you do best, argue. “You really think so highly of yourself, huh, Kim? I’m pretty sure I’ve had better.”

“Don’t push buttons when you don’t understand the consequences,” he whispers darkly, “or throw out empty challenges like that. I might be inclined to take them if you keep it up.”

You open your mouth to fight back, but a yelp comes out instead when his hand rips itself from underneath your shirt and is swiping the phone from your back pocket quickly. You aren’t prepared for him to reel back soon after, nearly losing your balance without him there to hold you up. “Taehyung, what the hell?!”

Taehyung smirks in victory, the phone and laptop in his hands, before he turns around and saunters to the door. “Disappointed, baby? All you have to do is ask and I’ll fuck you any way you want.”

Jungkook and Jimin are standing just outside, backs pressed to the opposite wall, and they both jump when the sound of glass shattering against wood follows Taehyung closing the door behind him. Jungkook wants to check on you, but the satisfied look on Taehyung’s face lets him know that you meant to break whatever had hit the door. “Uh, boss?”

Taehyung hands the laptop and phone to Jimin, who was looking at him with raised brows. “Give these to Yoongi, tell him to go through them, delete anything that can be used to track either device, and have him install the tracking app he created in her phone. I want us, and only us, to be able to access the app. If, for whatever reason, Yoongi feels like someone outside of the seven of us should be able to tap into it, I want to know who and why first. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Jimin disappears with the phone and computer, leaving behind a chuckle that has Jungkook rolling his eyes.

“Oh, and Kook,” Taehyung claps Jungkook on the shoulder with a mischievous grin, “buy Y/N a new perfume bottle. She seems to have broken her last one.”

[seijorhi]

Acts of Devotion

👀 i um 👉 👈 i hope this is okay...

Akaashi Keiji x Female Reader

TW blood, gore, violence, murder, dub con, nsfw

Akaashi loves you.

He’s known that for a long time now, probably from the very first moment he laid eyes on you, back when you were both just wide eyed first year uni students, wildly out of your depths.

A lot’s changed since then. For one, he now gets to call you his, and it’s his arms that you return to at the end of a long day, his house that you both live in. It’d be a lie to say that it doesn’t bother him that he wasn’t your first love, but he’s contented himself with the knowledge that he’ll be your last. Your only great love.

The only one that matters.

But it hasn’t been without its challenges. He’s learned a lot about love since those early days, about what it means to truly devote yourself to somebody, to give everything you have for them.

Love essentially boils down to two things, Akaashi’s come to realise - sacrifice, and forgiveness. 

You always look so beautiful when you’re sleeping. Of course, Akaashi thinks you’re beautiful all the time; when you’re smiling and laughing, when your face is screwed up in petulant anger, when those pretty eyes of yours well with tears and they glimmer and shine - but there’s something about the peaceful expression, so soft and unguarded when you’re asleep that inexplicably draws him in. 

There’s a part of him that wants nothing more than to stay, to reach out and brush away the hair that’s fallen across your face, pull you closer and let sleep drag him under, but he can’t. 

Not tonight.

Instead he cranes his neck to press a kiss against your lips, a small smile tugging at his lips when you let out a quiet mewl in response. He loves you so, so much… that’s why he has to do this.

He’d forgive you anything. You know that, don’t you?

Sure, it hurt him when he found the messages. Scrolling back through your text history, it was like somebody had grabbed him by the throat and plunged a knife into his gut, twisting it for good measure.

Kaito i don’t know what to do

i love him but lately it feels like idk he’s being a little controlling i guess? 

… but maybe i’m just being paranoid?

He knows it’s not entirely your fault. For all the amazing qualities you possess, you are remarkably naive and so very, very impressionable - which worked to his favour in the beginning, he’ll be the first to admit, but now…

Now it’s becoming a problem.

You haven’t realised yet that everything Akaashi’s doing - it’s all for your own good. 

Your family wanted you under their thumb. They always asked too much of you, guilt tripped you whenever you tried to stand up for yourself or set boundaries. They’d never be happy for you, not truly. It hurts, he knows that, but some people don’t deserve to be in your life, especially when they treat you like that. 

Your job was causing you stress, and your boss was an arrogant, nasty piece of work. His salary is more than enough to support you both, why put yourself through that if you don’t need to? Aren’t you happier now that you don’t have to trudge into that office every day and pretend that it isn’t making you miserable?

Your friends were bad influences. Jealous of your relationship for one, but they were also petty, self absorbed and vapid, always trying to drag you down to their level so you wouldn’t ever outshine them. You’re better off without them, why can’t you see that?

Akaashi’s the only one you’ll ever need.

And he really thought that he’d solved that little problem, but apparently not. He supposes he shouldn’t be surprised that out of all of them, Kaito’s the one who’s been the hardest to shake. An old friend of yours from high school, Akaashi had known within five minutes of meeting him that he was head over heels in love with you and had been for a long, long time. 

He can’t blame him for that. You’re beautiful. Perfect. Entirely his. It’s painfully obvious that even before he came into the picture to sweep you off your feet, you’d never so much as looked twice at the guy. So Akaashi was more or less content to let his somewhat pitiful one sided crush on you slide. Considering that he had absolutely no intentions of letting him or any of your other friends remain part of your life for much longer, it was hardly worth wasting energy thinking about.

Until, that is, he read the messages that Kaito’s been sending you.

Leave him

I’m serious. 

My sister had a friend who was with a guy like that. She had to get a restraining order because he wouldn’t let her go - it got scary… You can come stay with me. I don’t want you getting hurt :(

It’s that last one that bothers him. Not the attempts to lure you away from him under the guise of being a safe haven from your ‘dangerous’ boyfriend, painting himself as your knight in shining armour - mildly irritating if not a little amusing - but for putting the idea in your head that Akaashi would ever hurt you.

That he can’t forgive.

He won’t have you look at him with fear in your eyes. 

Akaashi’s never tried to deny that side of himself, but he’s kept it from you, locked it away and buried it deep. The things he does… you’re too pure for that. He loves you, loves the way that your eyes still soften when you catch sight of him, the warm, trusting naivety that bleeds out of your every pore. If you knew what the hands that caressed you so gently had done, would you still beg for his touch?

You wouldn’t, he knows that just as he knows that even if you were to uncover the truth, he wouldn’t let you go. He can’t, you’re his.

Is it really so selfish of him to want to preserve that innocent naivety? 

But it seems like now he’ll have to indulge once again, and Akaashi, really, truly can’t say that it bothers him. Killing other people has always thrilled him, made the blood in his veins race… Killing other people for you, oh, that’s going to be a whole other level of pleasure he can’t wait to explore. 

The pads of his fingers trace the curve of your jaw for just a moment. “Back soon,” he whispers, gracing your cheek with a feather light kiss.

You’ve never asked why the door to the basement locks from both sides, he doesn’t even think you realise that the walls are soundproofed. Tonight he’s grateful. You won’t wake up, he’s almost positive of that, but Akaashi has no desire to be gone from your side for any longer than absolutely necessary.

He usually prefers to take his time. 

His first kill was more of an accident than anything else, there was too much blood, he panicked and it was over in the blink of an eye. There wasn’t time to savour it, to really enjoy the sight of the light leaving their eyes, the weak, desperate struggles and whimpers, the tantalising fear that inevitably bleeds into the air, growing more potent by the second - even the strongest break eventually. He��s learned since then how to draw it out, how to have fun with his work.

But he doesn’t have that luxury tonight, and, as he keeps having to remind himself, this isn’t about his pleasure.

Guns are quick. Messy. Akaashi’s never really taken a liking to the crude, graceless weapon. He prefers his knives. 

Waving a gun in somebody’s face gives them the idea that they’re going to die, and there are only so many times that you can shoot somebody before they just… bleed out. It’s not nearly as satisfying a death. A knife, on the other hand, brings with it more opportunities. It isn’t death that his victim becomes worried about, at least not initially, but pain. And as his hand glides over his collection, Akaashi decides that Kaito is due for a little pain.

I love him, you’d texted. I love him. I love him. I love him.

That’s what he’s trying to protect. 

Long, pale fingers wrap around the handle of his chef’s knife, (eight inches, sharp - a familiar, comforting weight in his hand) and he takes a deep, steadying breath.

Kaito’s mouth is taped shut. Akaashi doesn’t want to hear a filthy word out of those lips. His hands are bound behind his back, his ankles tied to the old, wooden chair. He’s good with his knots, the more Kaito struggles, the tighter they pull. And judging from the ugly, purpling shade of his hands and the tears leaking from bloodshot eyes, he’s been struggling for a while.

Good.

Akaashi smiles as he strolls towards his captive audience, fingering the straight edge of the knife. Kaito doesn’t try to speak, but the muffled whines and sobs grow louder with every step closed between them. The fear and tension in the air is palpable. 

His breath is little more than a frantic wheezing by the time Akaashi stops in front of him and drops into a crouch. Cool, gunmetal blue eyes meet Kaito’s deep brown ones, blown wide with terror.

“I’m not the monster you think I am,” he admits quietly. 

Looking up at him from beneath long, dark lashes, a faint smile on his lips, Akaashi could almost pass for an angel if not for the gleaming kitchen knife in his hand. Kaito pales, his entire body going taut as his gaze slides from Akaashi’s face to the gleaming blade in his hand. He shakes his head in desperation, another muffled scream escaping his gag-

Akaashi strikes fast, like a viper. The blade plunges into the meat of Kaito’s thigh and without an ounce of mercy, Akaashi yanks it back towards his knee.

The scream that rips through the air sends a pleasurable shiver of warmth down his spine, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips as he feels the muscles beneath him convulse. The gash isn’t too long, maybe a few inches, but it’s deep and Akaashi’s smirk only grows as warm blood gushes from the wound, coating his hand in slick vermilion. 

He tugs the knife free, rewarded with another choked howl from his captive as more blood sprays. Bound to the chair, there’s not a whole lot of room for Kaito to move, but it’s somewhat amusing to watch him try to thrash, escape the white hot agony radiating from his thigh through his entire body. It’s hard for the human body to comprehend that level of pain, and from experience, Akaashi’s well aware that it won’t take long for his body to go into shock and simply shut down from the blood loss, and once that happens, he won’t be of much use to anyone. 

Kaito’s trembling, face pale, his skin clammy. Impossibly black pupils swallow his irises whole, erratically tracking his captor’s every movement as Akaashi pushes himself to his feet and takes a moment to study him. Tears and bubbles of snot leak in a disgusting mix down his jaw, dripping onto his lap as he sobs against his bindings. It’s pitiful, seeing a man reduced to a whimpering, terrified wreck, but as the hand still holding his knife grips at his chin and yanks his face closer, Akaashi can’t help but gleefully drink it all in. 

Your would be knight in shining armour doesn’t look quite so strong and capable now, does he?

Akaashi doesn’t have much time left to make him suffer, but he can’t seem to resist trailing his fingers along Kaito’s injured leg, digging them deep into the ruined muscle - grinning wildly when he convulses and screams, arching up off the chair. 

There’s still so much that he’d like to do. He toys with the idea of taking his tongue, of carving his knife deep into his skin just to watch him whimper and bleed… but no. This isn’t about indulgence. This is about you. He has to have more discipline than that.

Dangling on the edge of consciousness, Kaito meets his gaze one last time. Maybe he senses that his death is close, or maybe he’s just searching for a last minute reprieve, mercy from the cold blooded killer before him. Terrified, agonised, delirious from the blood loss, he tries to speak - a plea, he thinks, or maybe just incomprehensible babbling, but his eyes burn into Akaashi’s, desperate and hollow.

Akaashi’s never been one for theatrics. He won’t waste more time monologuing while your friend clings to the last vestiges of life. If Kaito hasn’t guessed by now the reasons he’s ended up here, at Akaashi’s mercy, he’s far less intelligent than he gave him credit for, but he supposes that he owes him something, at least. 

“I love her,” he says with a small shrug, as if it explains everything.

And maybe it does. 

It hardly matters though, as Akaashi decides to finally end it with a vicious slice across his throat. Blood sprays like a fountain, splattering across the room and drenching him, Kaito’s body slumps in his seat, the last flicker of life slowly snuffing out, and Akaashi revels in the pure, sweet euphoria that floods his system.

He’s never killed anybody while you were home with him before. Normally he’s methodical, quick to clean up whatever mess is left behind. Tonight though, Akaashi doesn’t have the patience for all that.

He should at least take a shower, rid himself of the blood that soaked him to the skin, but the call of your arms, the sweet, soft floral scent he longs to drown himself in beckoning is too hard to resist. He sheds his clothes, casting them aside haphazardly along with the bloody knife as he stalks down the hallway to the bedroom. His heart is still racing, excitement drumming through his veins as he crawls onto the bed and slides the covers off of you.

Dimly, he registers that this is a monumentally bad idea, but all he can think about is the vivid memory of the light leaving Kaito’s eyes and you. Tonight, he killed for you, and it was exhilarating.

He doesn’t think he could stop himself even if he wanted to, and why would he want to?

You’re perfect, beautiful - his. Nothing and nobody will ever be able to separate the two of you, he’ll kill anybody who tries. 

You stir a little as Akaashi’s lips graze along your skin, his fingers sliding the silk of your nightgown up over your hips.

“‘Kaashi?” you sleepily murmur, trying to blink heavy eyelids open.

He wonders if you can feel the way his bloodstained hands are trembling as they ease your supple thighs apart. “Shh, baby,” he presses a kiss against your leg as he manoeuvres himself between them, “It’s okay, go back to sleep.”

Let me take care of you. 

He needs this.

[tarithenurse]

Spark - 26

Fandom: Enn Enn no Shōbōtai / Fire Force. Pairing: Shinmon Benimaru x fem!reader. Content: Feels, worry, injuries, tiredness, fluff. Lack of proofing. A/N: Thanks to all of you who have wanted tags, reblogged, commented, and liked <3 I’m very happy that you’ve stuck with this story all the way to the end. Thank you!

26. Warm heart

...  Konro   ...

The news of [Y/N] and Beni’s return (including the woman’s condition) had spread like wildfire among the residents of Asakusa and particularly the older women had taken it upon themselves to lighten the workload of Company Seven by providing hot meals – sent over by wide-eyed grandchildren who looked too dejected for Konro to bear when he tried to say none of this was necessary because in spite of what the neighbourhood seemed to think, everything had returned to some semblance of normal within a day.

“Time for bed, girls,” Konro begins to usher Hinata and Hikage out of the kitchen.

None of them look up from the drawings they’re working on (one depicting a demonic infernal washing the floor). “No,” they agree in creepy unison, “we’re strong independent women who don’t need a man to tell us what to do.”

...what? He doesn’t have to ask where they would have heard something like that: just this morning [Y/N] had said something along those lines to Benimaru when he tried to order her back to her sick bed. If only I’d known better. Konro had chuckled, telling his old friend to give up on the protectiveness, for now at least.

Staring down at the twins, the scarred man crosses his arm calmly. “Try again.”

Seconds later, papers float in the air as Hinata and Hikage have changed their minds and are sprinting off to get ready for bed.

...  Reader   ...

Ow. Ooow. Eeek. Ow. Ouch.

Limping past Benimaru’s office, you’re thankful the door is closed as you don’t need him to see how you’re gritting your teeth in pain. Maybe he had a point this morning...ow.

He had caught you leaving your room – your destination being the kitchen where Konro was busy serving breakfast for everyone present at the Special Fire Force Company Seven’s headquarters – and promptly ordered your back to bed, completely ignorant of the fact that you’d spent a full day there already and you were bored out of your mind. Opinions had been...exchanged before he let you do what you wanted for the rest of the day.

And now I’m paying the price. Every body part is screaming in protest at the mere idea of moving, littered with bruises and swells, and you’re fairly sure you’ve pulled a few of the stitches on your thigh. Just a bit more. Down the hall and around the corner, then you can collapse onto the futon and get the weight off your swollen ankle.

“Have I ever told you, you’re stubborn?” Beni’s bored voice stops any progress.

Fuck. “Once or twice,” you grit out, refusing to turn to see him standing there, probably arms crossed and leaning against the doorpost, “I take it as a compliment.”

“Figures.” There’s a huff and then you can feel him right behind you. “[Y/N]...” lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispers, “please...you don’t have to do everything alone and I know how strong you are. Let me he-...let me be of use.”

Oh, it’s tempting. You remember parts of the trip back from the Nether and how it had felt to be pressed against his warm body, nuzzling against the crook of his neck to inhale the mixed scents of coals, cedar, and light sweat. It had made it bearable whenever unconsciousness shifted and you were brought back to the pain.

Now Benimaru’s arms snake around your waist and under your knees and you realize you’ve said yes without meaning to, allowing him to lift and hold you against him once more. He tries to move carefully, reducing the jostle as much as he can even as he lays you down.

“[Y/N]...the wound...” The frown on his face could be either worry or exasperation as he shows off the blood that’s seeped through your trousers and onto his shirt.

“Sorry?”

Somehow, he accepts not getting a hold of the doctor. “I’ll...I’ll get what we need to rebandage it while you...” He motions to the bloody clothes, a pink tinge rising to the tip of his ears before he hurries out of the room.

It’s easier said than done and you’ve only managed to wriggle your butt out of the pants by the time he returns with cloths, bandages and hot water. Eyeing the lack of progress, Benimaru wordlessly asks for permission to help with the rest (leaving you in underwear and an oversized t-shirt) which he is granted – you’re too exhausted to keep up the hopeless charade of independence, preferring to be cared for. By him, specifically.

The large hands work meticulously, gently shifting off the layers of the soaked bandages while you lie back to watch in wonder. His shock of black hair can’t obscure the frown or the way he pulls his lips tight when the cloth sticks to the wound and you bite back a hiss of pain. He cradles your thigh with a subtle grasp as he begins to dab away the mess and turning the damp cloths continuously lighter shades of pink until everything finally is clean again.

“You’re luckier than you deserve,” Benimaru grumbles, “stitches are holding. It’s just been seeping from underneath.”

Pushing yourself up by the elbows, you can see he’s right and that a new bruise has formed around the wound. Okay...I’ll have to take it easy a few days more. “Fine...maybe you were right.”

“Maybe? Trust me, by the time it’s wrapped up, you’ll know I’m right.”

It’s obvious that’s he’s taking care, trying to shuffle your leg as little as possible and such, but the bandage has to stay in place and so he can’t let it be too loose. Sure, after the first layers of foamy material directly on the wound, the shifting pressure isn’t quite as bad...but it’s bad enough. Your nails are digging into your palms, teeth into lip, and tears are pouring down your cheeks even if you aren’t making a sound by the time Benimaru is done and has lifted your ankle up by placing a stack of pillows under the calf and foot.

“I’m sorry,” he hushes you, spreading the covers over you, “I really tried to be careful.”

“Mhmm.” You don’t trust your voice to say anything else, but lift the covers aside for him to join you. “Please?”

Something deep and warm moves in those mix-matched eyes of his as you studies your face. Then he discards everything but his boxers and lies down on his side, facing you. The touch of his fingertips is barely there as he wipes away the tracks of the tears.

“I know...I won’t always be able to prevent you from hurting...but I wish I could, babe,” he whispers.

Of course he can’t. It doesn’t matter though, you decide, as long as he’ll be there to help you afterwards and you tell him as much, words mumbled against his lips before losing yourself in a slow kiss.

You are both out of breath when he breaks away.

“I’m not letting you leave bed tomorrow except for the absolute minimum!” Beni vows.

“I could be convinced if you come and cuddle up with me sometimes.”

Raising an eyebrow at the weak smirk you grant him, he seems to consider the idea for a few seconds before smiling: “Fine. I can accept that.”

[raindrops-and-tubestops]

Random prompts - KyaLin: 14.  “Okay, so maybe I didn’t see that coming.”

Here you go Nonnie, I hope you enjoy! 💕

“Where is she?” Kya wasn’t wasting time.

The words were out of her mouth as soon as she ducked around the corner of the building. She crouched in front of the younger detective, waiting patiently for his his answer. She could feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins.

Mako looked up in surprise, trying to find a frequency but getting only static from the radio on his hip. He had been pinned down at this corner for the better part of fifteen minutes.

How in the hell had Kya managed to get through?

As if wanting to answer his question, the Master Healer leant around the wall drawing water from the pouch at her hip. With a flick of her hands, that was probably more complicated than he was able to see, she sent a torrent of water out into the skirmish. He grinned as he heard screams and what sounded like bodies thudding against the stone of the street.

Looking back at him, she winked conspiratorially.

“Mako, honey,” she tried again, her voice softer, “where is she?”

He didn’t have to question who she was talking about. He could see the worry behind the blue eyes, all though anyone else only would have seen the determination. Kya needed to get to the Chief, Mako had a bad feeling about all this.

This whole debacle started twenty minutes before the end of shift. A call came over the emergency radio at the precinct that there was an attack on the new clinic just west of the new spirit portal. The Triads were trying to make a statement to the Chief of Police as well as the rest of the city.

They were able to establish a blockade before the fighting reached the inside of the clinic. The doors, front and back were barricaded. The patients and healers inside were safe, some were out here on the front lines working to heal the fallen officers, Kya included.

Mako swallowed, his throat dry and sticky, “The last I saw her, she was swinging on her cables in that direction.”

Kya followed his finger as it pointed across the street, landing on the roof tops of the alley way directly across from them. He watched her run through some things in her mind, maybe calculating the risks of crossing through the battle raging in the street.

As they peeked around the corner, it was clear there were no signs of either side stopping. There was fire flying through the air only to be intercepted by water from an unknown source, pieces of the street and the buildings rippled as they were manipulated by earthbenders from both sides.

Metal from nearby stalls and storefronts groaned as it was manipulated by officers, quickly shaping into flat sheets, encasing the wounded or protecting those volleying off counter attacks.

If she hadn’t been looking for it, she would have missed the shink of cables being released from their casing and subsequently Lin swinging across the street. She came to rest on the side of the clinic, one hand wrapped around the cables imbedded in the wall and the other gripping the hand hold she created on the brick.

Kya had a momentary flashback of when they were younger and Lin used to grip the walls of the Air Temple Island dormitories in the same manner…it never failed to freak her mother out. She chuckled quietly to herself, feeling the exact moment that Mako spied the Chief as well. The metalbender seemed to be looking for something, she was scanning the foray, clearly thinking she was up high enough to not be noticed.

But someone had noticed her…someone was silently curling a water tendril along the wall, not quite touching the stone. She wouldn’t be able to feel it.

Before Kya could call out, she watched as the tendril wrapped around Lin’s ankle, the look of shock on her face would have been comical in any other circumstance. The Chief was ripped from the side of the wall, disappearing from view behind a large pile of wreckage, her cables hanging lifeless, still attached to the wall.

The next thing Mako knew Kya was running, and then he was too, trying desperately to keep up with her impressive pace. He guessed it was the adrenaline and worry that made her so reckless, but at least he was there. The waterbender was able to doge most of the attacks flung her way as she rushed towards where the Chief was last seen, but Mako did fling the occasional blast of fire, he had to make sure she stayed safe at least.

Kya rounded the side of the wreckage where they had seen Lin disappear, tripping and landing in the water spread across the ground. She managed to keep her footing and pushed off the ground with the palm of her hands. She stopped short and if he hadn’t been paying attention, Mako would have slammed into the back of her.

The Chief was on the ground, lying extremely still..too still, the only thing that kept Kya from dropping to her knees was that she could see her chest rising and falling. Slowly, but it was a win nonetheless. Next to her, with a metal spike sticking out of their chest, was the waterbender Kya assumed had ambushed Lin. They weren’t moving, not even their chest.

Mako gripped her shoulder and brought her back to herself, the surroundings coming back into focus. They sprinted the rest of the way, Kya dropping to her knees next to Lin, barely registering the sting of her battered skin or the sound of Mako dragging the body away from them.

She pulled water from the flask at her hip and began to assess the younger woman’s injuries. A dislocated shoulder, a bruise on her right cheek discoloring the skin around her scars, a possible concussion…not sure how bad that was and two cracked ribs. She would be ok.

“Thank the spirits,” Kya mumbled, hanging her head in relief,

Mako was now crouched beside her, the blue glow of the healing water casting shows on all their faces. He would scan the surrounding area and then return his gaze to Kya and the Chief every so often.

Kya released the catches of Lin’s uniform, knowing just how unamused her wife was going to be when she regained consciousness and found herself in just her uniform pants and under tank. Kya stifled the absurd laugh that bubbled up, practically choking on it.

As the water was concentrated on her left side, the ribs, Kya could feel the awareness returning to her partner, her heartbeat picking up slightly. That was all the warning she got before Lin sat up, her forehead barely missing Kya’s.

“Whoa,” Kya intoned softly, Mako behind Lin instantly, offering her support, “take it easy Chief.”

Lin winced and moved to grab her head, her shoulder and ribs protesting violently.

“What the hell happened,” she groaned.

Kya was now focused on Lin’s head, trying to relive the pressure that was causing her partner to be slightly nauseous. The healer glared at the metalbender, Mako cowered in sympathy.

“Lin, what was Aunt Suki’s main rule in combat?”

The Chief looked at Kya in confusion, whether from the change in topic or from the head injury, Mako wasn’t sure.

The glare deepened, “What was it Lin?”

The anger in Kya’s voice immediately snapped the metalbender out of her daze. They connected eyes, snapping blue to sheepish green, and Lin was reminded of all the times she had seen those eyes. Most notably when they were caught sneaking back onto the island as children and when she did something particularly stupid. Kya may have taken after Uncle Aang in the Air Nomad sense, but her temper was all Aunt Katara.

“Keep track of your surroundings,” Lin sighed as the pressure in her head finally lifted.

“Yes Lin,” Kya continued, voice hard as she moved to the shoulder, “and what didn’t you do?”

Lin followed the movements and relented, “Keep track of my surroundings.”

Mako stifled a chuckled at the clearly admonished Chief…they needed to bring in Master Kya more often he thought.

Kya huffed, “Exactly, now this is going to hurt.”

As soon as she gave the warning Lin grit her teeth, sucking in a breath as Kya quickly reset the joint. The pop making Lin sick to her stomach, the searing pain keeping her from losing it completely. The ache was soon replaced by the cool feel of the healing water, a relief that Lin didn’t know she needed.

“I had the situation under control,” she bit out.

Kya went still, eyebrow raised in a challenge, and Lin had the good sense to back down slightly.

“Before or after that waterbender plucked you off the side of the building like a ripe moon peach?”

The Chief’s cheeks colored slightly, as she looked down at her lap. She started when she realized she was no longer wearing her uniform. The glare directed towards Kya was one for the books, she was not pleased.

Kya huffed indignantly, she could really give a shit right now.

Lin leant forward, taking some of her weight off Mako as the detective went to stand. She nodded towards the boy, a quiet thanks that he returned as he settled into a cautious stance.

“Okay, so maybe I didn’t see that coming,” Lin relented.

Kya didn’t respond, just kept to her task, working to heal her wife. She was furious…and scared, Lin could sense the residual adrenaline in Kya’s system.

She inclined her head, trying to catch her wife’s eyes as she worked on the shoulder joint. When Kya finally gave in and looked up, Lin could see the sheen of tears just along the water line of her lashes. She cursed herself.

Lin leant forward and cupped the back of Kya’s head, their foreheads connecting, the air between them charged with emotion. She could feel Kya shaking, everything in the last hour finally catching up with her.

“I’m ok,” she reassured the healer, her voice gentle, “I’m sorry and I’m ok.”

Their lips met tentatively, soft at first but slowly growing desperate. The need to feel, to know that each other was alright, winning out over decorum. Mako turned slightly, giving them as much privacy as their situation could allow.

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PS: the prompts can be original too 😊