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#she asked if she could be a boy even if she was a boy and someone (who was rly important for Myel) told her yes
luveline · 1 day
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hi hii jade! Was wondering if you could do something sweet and fluffy w poly!marauders where reader wakes up in a very cozy and giggly mood 🤭 just some warm domestic love hehe
thank you for requesting! fem, 1k
Someone is kissing his waist. Sirius squirms in his dozing, not expecting it as those kisses travel up his naked chest. Your laugh is breathy and soft as you kiss his shoulder, your weight strewn across his side and arm, your hand finding his cheek. 
Your fingers feel inhuman in the best way, like an angel. They spread across his face and neck as you hold him in place and kiss the skin where his neck meets his shoulder. “I love you…” you whisper, the ‘you’ turning long and slow like honey slipping down his front. “I wish you didn’t sleep so much.” 
You kiss him again, and with that you’re out of bed. Out of the room before Sirius has time to gather his wits, but he does gather them, because he needs more of whatever that was. 
What sort of sweetheart kisses somebody with such gentleness thinking they won’t remember? To press affection into him with want of nothing in return. He doesn’t even bother getting dressed, just scrubs at his sleep-swollen face and fishes the crusties from his eyes as he descends the stairs, numb-legged. 
James is grabbing you by the hips, helping you up onto the counter. His curls bounce at the back of his neck. “What’s gotten into you?” he asks. 
“Love, for sure.” 
“I can see that. Eggs? Omelette?” 
“Jamie, you can make anything. Actually, let me make you something–”
James pushes you further onto the top. “That’s okay, I’m cooking. I want to cook.” 
Sirius isn’t insecure, exactly. He feels he’s quite handsome when he attempts to be, and he knows you like him whether he’s trying or not, but he doesn’t know if you want to be interrupted, either of you, and it’s his private agony to wonder what to do. Then you spot him over James’ shoulder and your eyes practically sparkle. 
“Siri…” you sing-song, melodic as he crosses the kitchen linoleum to be with you and James. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.” 
Sirius touches James’ elbow with love but swoops in on you. “Did you wake me?” he asks, kissing your cheek, his arms working behind you to hold you as his lips travel downward. He isn’t half as sweet as you were, too busy trying to squeeze your torso against his and mould you into a perfect fit against him and under his arm to really think about what he’s doing. 
“She did it to me, too.” 
Sirius pulls your face into his neck and turns to James with a grin. “And Remus?” 
“He was already awake. But she kissed him and did that thing where her eyes somehow look bigger and shiny and he had to go for a walk.” 
“He didn’t have to go for a walk,” you mumble from Sirius’ neck. “He always walks on Saturday mornings. He’s just getting some herbs from the greenhouse.” 
The back door opens on cue. Remus reappears with an aura about him much like yours, dropping the cut herbs on the cutting board, and stopping just shy of everyone to smile. “Did she do it to you, as well?” he asks. 
James squeezes Remus’ face in his hand, a quick thank you for the herbs that has the latter turning pink. 
“She waylaid me with kisses like a common whore.” 
“Sirius,” James says scornfully. 
“Me being the whore,” Sirius says. You laugh into his neck, seemingly with no inclination to leave the circle of his arms. “Will I ever see your face again?” he asks. 
“It’s cozy here. I wish we’d stayed in bed.” 
“We can go back.” 
“After breakfast,” James says, popping an egg on the edge of the frying pan, breaking the shell one handed as he gives the sizzling oil a shake. 
Remus not so subtly crosses the last of the space to slot himself between your right thigh and the counter. Sirius has the urge to cup his cheek as James had done —Remus has an extremely holdable face— but is distracted by your nose nuzzling the line of his throat. 
“I love you,” you say. 
Doesn’t matter who you’re talking to. All three boys melt. 
“I’d like to do some really weird things to you,” Sirius says. 
“Me too,” James agrees. “But we do need breakfast first.” 
“No one is doing anything weird to me, it’s the weekend.” You beam as Remus laughs, seemingly your intention. 
Sirius backs away to a polite but still close proximity. He isn’t selfish; being in a ‘strange’ relationship like this one is a lot of reading cues, and a lot of just plain old climbing into people's laps when you want them, because nobody can truly read minds. Yet Sirius can see that you’re in the sort of mood where everything you touch turns to gold and all the boys want a piece of you, and who is he to get in the way of that? 
Well, he’s your boyfriend. He takes a kiss before he delegates himself to being herb-chopper, stealing glances of you from the corner of his eye. 
You tease a strand of Remus’ hair behind his ear. 
“Weird stuff is for weekdays only,” you’re murmuring. “What I want today is the real romantic stuff.” 
“Then you can have it,” Remus murmurs back. 
Sirius will happily be doing very romantic things to both of you after his omelette. James, too, if he’s so inclined. 
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A basic human skill that people usually lock down around the age of three or four is impulse control. To conceptualize an action and it’s consequences before taking it. Maybe considering how that action affects other people. We then refine it through most of our childhood.
When I was a teenager my hold on this ability became… tenuous. I became a volatile and dangerous creature.
It’s probably not unique to me, but I had a perfect storm in terms of mental upsets. I had just mastered enough basic social skills, so I finally had a strong group of friends when my dad suddenly needed to move for work. Ripped away from my support network, blooming with hormones, I was dragged to Arizona. I was always a child of forests and mist and suddenly everything was hot, dry, and extremely pointy and aggressive.
Additionally to being abruptly transplanted I found myself an object of affection in a way I’d never been before. Lonely and desperate to make friends the only people who wanted to spend time with me had romantic designs. I just wanted to figure out my shit but I had a baby lesbian flirting with increasing aggression in art, a soft boy making heart eyes at me in biology, a senior nerd asking if I wanted to play Halo at his house and could he hold my hand?
Reader, I snapped. I didn’t want this romantic attention but I also didn’t want to be alone. My brain coped the only way it knew how, by simply cutting out decision making. Any action was the right action to take.
It started with the boy in biology. I’d stolen his pencil out of mischief and to my overwhelming fury instead of trying to steal it back he just softened his eyes and chucked me gently under my chin, a gesture so overtly sweet and romantic that I saw red.
I stabbed him with his own pencil.
I honestly and truly have no memory of it. It happened as fast as a snake striking and I was instantly filled with terrified remorse. Unfortunately that manifested as psychotic giggling.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t- I don’t know why- I’m so sorry!” I said, while hysterically laughing. I ended up having lodged some graphite in his palm and had to tweeze it out with my nails while apologizing furiously. (It’s very important to note here that he forgave me and we’re still friends)
That was weird, I thought. Why didn’t I think before I stabbed someone?
The next event was equally catastrophic, and I had even less reason to do it. In gym with two girls I was tentatively befriending, we were warming up running laps. I started racing one of them. At breakneck speed we were sprinting around the gym.
This time, there was a blip of thought before I fucked up. I should get the other girl! I have no idea why or what the plan was but I turned on a swivel and body checked the other girl. We both fell down in immense pain. I think that’s the moment I broke my tailbone. Her knees were horribly bruised and she looked at me in bewildered pain. “Why did you do that?!”
I had no idea. I apologized and helped her up, both of us hobbling like newborn horses, bruised and hurting.
By this time there’d been enough social upheavals that I was reduced to spending time with some girls I had nothing in common with and low key disliked. Sat at a table listening to this girl talk about how she wanted to be a stripper when she grew up I thought, You’d better put the cap on before you throw it.
I then chucked my empty water bottle directly at her face. It bounced off her forehead with a bop! that would have made a sound mixer weep at its perfection.
All eyes turned to me is startlement. I stared back at her, stunned by my own action, just as confused as everyone else at the table as to why I’d done that. One of the girls to my right said, “Were you trying to hit that fly?”
“Yes!” I lied, “I’m sorry, I thought I could hit the fly!”
Everyone laughed at my antics and I joined in rather than admit I had just chucked something at her for no reason.
Things did start to improve after that. I solidified a friendship with the girl I’d raced (who I developed a massive crush on and ten years later would go on to date). My outbursts turned more whimsical rather than aggressive. Like accosting a girl leaving the cafeteria to look deeply into her eyes and say with great compassion, “It’s going to be alright.”
My new friend and I snuck into the van that delivered our cafeterias baked goods and lay giggling in the back. When I’d impulsively hopped in she’d joined me and made it a game.
After a year in Arizona I broke down crying to my mother, an act of great desperation, and we ended up moving back home. My impulse control returned to normal teenage levels and life resumed in a happier state of mind.
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servicpop · 3 days
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obsessive ( nsfw ) obsessive toji f. x oblivious bttm male reader
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Toji hated how oblivious you were.
You could run your pretty little mouth to a cafe worker and overlook the yearning in their eyes, or you would turn a blind eye to when your co-worker at your part-time job asks so blatantly for your number, but you just disregard it as just so you could be called in when they call sick.
He doesn't say anything about it, not when you two are out getting drinks — since it was your payday — and he sees a girl approach you, batting her eyelashes blotted black with mascara and throwing meaningless compliments at you. He only glares, his hand slipped around your waist, squeezing the soft flesh there as if he was voicing his complaints through actions.
But of course you brush him off, saying something along the lines of 'she probably wants to be friends,' which undoubtedly ticks him off.
A smile, however, graces his scarred lips when he sees the girl's eyes flicker to the hand around your sides and backs off ever so slightly and he swears he would never but he most definitely flipped her off while your attention was on her.
When your drinks were finally done, the worker handed it to you, and god did Toji almost throw a straight punch when he saw your fingers brush together. Why was everyone gunning for you? When he first started going out with you, he simply assumed that no one would dare come close because of his looks, but now, people didn't even look in his direction, only yours.
"You're like a fucking angel," He grunted under his breath, placing the paper straw that would eventually disintegrate from him chewing on it inbetween his lips to take a sip. You turn your head to ask him what he said, not being able to hear it through the rumble of his voice, but he replies with a blunt, "nothing."
Throughout your whole 'date,' Toji was just getting increasingly pissed off about the whole ordeal. Guys and girls were approaching you, trying to start up a conversation, and as the sweet little oblivious boy you were, you'd engage, which always ended in Toji having to scare them away with a glare and a hand wrapped around you.
The ride home was fairly quiet; Toji wasn't a man of many words but he couldn't shake off the jealousy that he desperately wanted to bury. His fingers brushed against his scarred lips, a habit he's adopted over the years, and his leg bounced repetitively before the words just spilt out from his mouth like gates opening. "Does it not bother you?" he speaks in a rather hushed tone, almost like he's trying to restrain the jealousy in his voice.
"Bother me how?" You question, getting out from your seat once you've reached your home. Toji is left trailing after you like a stray dog while the key chains on your keys clink together as you unlock your front door.
"When people are always coming up to you," Toji grumbles, extending an arm above your head to hold the door open for you. "They're interested in you, can't you see that?" His hands find their way to rest on your waist and he pulls your back to his chest. "I'm right here and you still wanna shoot your shot with someone else?" Toji has forgotten all about keeping his obsession over you at bay, all he wants to do is knock some sense into you.
Before you can even refute his words, Toji already has his hands crawling underneath your shirt. His large, thick fingers finding your chest to pinch at your nipples, twisting them lightly. One hand leaves your chest while the other is splayed across it, holding you back as he pulls at your waistband, stretching the elastic out to look down at you.
"Already hard and I've barely touched you," He tsked, and contradictory to his words, his hand wanders down to touch you more. He pulls at your pants, slipping them down until they pool at your ankles before he runs a finger along the bulge at your boxers.
You instinctively whine and grasp his forearms in a futile attempt to stop his hands but you just end up twitching in his hold. "What? Don't want it? Thought you loved attention," Toji slips his hand lower, trailing down so he could press the pad of his fingers to your hole through the fabric. There's barely any friction or penetration to get you going so your hips jerk back, pushing against Toji which elicts a low groan from the man.
"Yeah, yeah you do, you fucking love it," His laugh comes out harsh and he's folding himself ontop of you, getting you to bend over more. Both his thumbs link underneath your waistband and pulls it down with a small whistle. Toji's arm then constricts around your waist where your body bent, holding you up so you didn't fall or escape. For a second he holds you still and all you can hear is the clink of his belt coming off and the small pops of his buttons.
"Stay still for me yeah?" He growls in your ear, tugging at his own clothing to get them off. He snakes his hand to your front, curving underneath to slip a finger inside. His arm is brushing so lightly against your now erect cock, but he refuses to touch it.
You could feel every knuckle pushing into you, squeezing against his fingers as you panted. His other hand finally makes it to your dick, using his fingertips to pull your cock against your stomach, tracing his nails along the underside. This ripped out a moan from your throat, your arms thrashing around from the feeling but Toji's arms are so tangle with yours its hard to move.
"Oh? So that's where you're sensitive, huh?" He's blatantly mocking you, taking his anger out on you. You whine again when Toji starts to spread the fingers nestled inside your walls, scissoring you to stretch you out. "Open up for me baby, I know you ain't shy," he keeps his fingers apart, taking his own dick and lining it up to your gaping hole.
He pushed in, and once you fit his tip through, he pulls his fingers back out, plugging you with his thick dick.
Toji hums contently, grabbing both your arms and pulling them back to his sides. You're already arching and he's got a great view of your back. "I feel like you're gonna split in half, God," its a shaky laugh because of how much you're squeezing him, wringing him out of whatever he has to offer. He pulls his hips away from you before he slams back in, the hands on your wrists pulling you against him with each thrust.
You can't do anything with your hands pulled behind your back, Toji's just using your body, handling you like you were a puppet and your arms were the strings.
You can hear Toji groan in frustration but before you could question it, Toji moves his hands, gripping your thigh and pulling it up. His other hand holds your side, as he pistons his hips into you in this new position. "That's deeper, yeah?" He groans into your ear, and you wobble from being forced to stand on one leg but Toji just tightens his grip around your waist.
Your whole body shudders when Toji finally reaches your prostate, hitting right up against it. A grin slowly emerges onto Toji's face when he sees your eyes go blank, and he knows he's found your sweet spot. "There we go, shit I was getting mad 'cause you weren't reacting that much." Toji's fingers dig deeper into the plush flesh of your thigh, and he laughs breathlessly at the obscene sound of his balls hitting against your skin.
"You take it like a champ y'know," he whispers through his teeth, "I'm so mean to you but you don't complain, huh?"
You're too far gone to even hear his words, your warm, wet walls clenching around him as you let out a small cry before coming as hard as you could, the sticky liquid falling straight onto your wooden floors. Toji's condescending laugh rings through your ears as the hand on your waist moves to your tummy, pressing down so he could feel himself rearrange your guts.
And apparently, that gets him off. Alot.
With one more thrust, Toji groans loudly, emptying for all he's worth into you. He pulls out almost immediately so he could see the white globs drip down your inner thighs. He lets go of your thigh that he was previously holding in the air and squishes them together, slotting his cock back between your sticky thighs to ride out his high.
He's peppering light kisses and small bites on your shoulder before speaking in a husky voice, "You gonna let people hit you up?" He asks, and you can barely reply from the physical exhaustion, "...No."
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roosterforme · 23 hours
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Wild Rooster Chase | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley thinks about you more than he should, and his feelings for you run deeper than they ought to. You've never given him an indication that you want to take the teasing touches and playful flirtation to the next level, so he never pressed his luck. When you surprise him by sending a text message that could change everything, he's ready to chase you all over San Diego for some answers.
Warnings: adult language, fluff, angst, drinking
Length: 5700 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Banner by @thedroneranger
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"What are you ladies doing here?" Bradley asked as you walked in with Halo and Phoenix on either side of you. "Thought tonight was the bachelorette party?"
"The Hard Deck is our first stop of the evening," you informed him as you planted your palm on his chest with a smirk, and he let you push him away from the bar. "We couldn't miss out on letting you guys see how nicely we clean up."
"Oh yeah?" he asked, as if he wasn't actively ogling you in your mini dress and high heels. He'd never been one to hide it, and he'd never been one to check out the other two, either. But that didn't mean he was going to act on it, because he was absolutely convinced this was just a game for you. One that he loved participating in. One that he knew was never going to go anywhere real.
"Yeah," you verified with a laugh. "We look hot."
"An indisputable fact," he whispered as he pretended like you were actually pushing him further out of your way. He'd move wherever you wanted him to, as long as you just kept touching him.
"Shoo," you scolded, looking up at him as your knee bumped his leg. "I need to buy some drinks, and you're in my way."
He covered your hand with his big one and immediately stopped moving. "Nice try, Blaze," he said with a grin as you attempted and failed to get him to budge more. "But I'm definitely buying you all a round for Callie's big night." He tossed his credit card onto the bar and draped one arm around Halo and the other around you before leaning in close to you and whispering, "And you always look nice. Even in your flight suits."
"What can I get for you ladies? And Rooster?" Penny asked, cutting him off just as he had you rolling your eyes. "Wait... he's not going out for Halo's bachelorette night, is he?"
"Absolutely not," you told her, tilting your head to look up at him with a devilish grin that made him a little nervous. His arm was still heavy across your shoulders as you said, "He's just here to buy us three Johnnie Walkers. Blue Label. Neat." 
"What?" His voice was strangled, and his eyes were wide. "That's over a hundred bucks!"
"But it's what we want. Isn't it, ladies?" you asked Halo and Phoenix as you tried not to laugh.
"It is," Halo confirmed. "And I'm the one getting married next weekend." 
When Bradley moaned and nodded at Penny, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Rooster. You're the sweetest."
"You mean I'm a sucker," he said, finally releasing both of you. "So where are you headed after this?"
Halo accepted her expensive Scotch as she said, "Cowboy Star for a steak dinner."
Bradley snorted. "Don't forget to take Jake with you," he said, nodding to where the other guys were hanging out near the dart board. 
"No boys allowed," you reminded him. "Especially not since we're taking Halo to Cheetahs after dinner."
"Strippers?" he asked as you picked up your Johnnie Walker. "Looking at hot, naked chicks? Sounds fun. What else?"
"Dancing at Pleasure Town!" Phoenix said, taking the last Scotch and holding it up. You and Halo both tapped your glasses to hers.
"Thanks, Rooster!" you said before taking a sip. He just shook his head as you pressed your lips to the glass, but a few seconds later, he ran his index finger along your arm and leaned a little closer again.
"Hey, you call or text me if you need anything, okay? I'll keep my phone on all night for you girls."
A chill seemed to run through your body, and just the mere thought of you calling him in the middle of the night left his mouth dry with need.
You chewed on your lip and looked up at him. "I'll let you know if I need you."
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I'll let you know if I need you.
Bradley couldn't stop thinking about that sentence. If you ever told him you needed or even wanted him for anything, he'd be there instantly. He wasn't afraid to admit to himself that he'd had a crush on you from the first day you arrived at Top Gun. He was sure you knew it, too. But there were some things he just didn't want to mess with. Your call sign was Blaze for a reason, after all. Too fucking hot to handle. Too damn enticing to be interested in him.
So he did what he always did on Saturday nights. Found the second cutest girl at the bar and tried his luck. 
It was two hours later and three drinks in with the redhead, and he knew he could probably get as lucky as he wanted to. Her hand was on his thigh, inching closer to the hem of his tropical print shirt, and she was all smiles.
"Let's play something on the jukebox," she told him, and he agreed as he followed after her. To his dismay, she picked your favorite song, and now he was having a bit of a hard time staying focused on the task at hand as she tucked herself against the wall and pulled him closer by his shirt.
"You like this song?" he asked, glancing at the jukebox like he expected you to be standing there. 
She shrugged and said, "Not really. I just pushed some random buttons," with a little giggle. "Now, come here."
Alright, so her lips were soft, and her tongue tasted like bourbon. She placed his hands on her hips, and he gave a little test squeeze which resulted in her tongue in his mouth. But the song was pulling up some other memories of you and him dancing together on New Year's Eve. When he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, it was almost a relief to pull away.
"Hey," she complained, reaching for him as he unlocked his phone. "I'm over here, Rooster."
"Sorry," he muttered, looking at her briefly, but he really wasn't. The text he got was from you. He held up one finger and took a step back as he opened it up. 
Blaze: Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.
"What the fuck?" Bradley said out loud as his eyes scanned the message again. It was a joke. It had to be. Or else he was reading it wrong? "Holy shit."
When he finally looked up, the redhead was pouting with her arms crossed. He needed another opinion, and he'd already lost interest in her anyway. He held up his phone and asked, "What does this mean?"
He watched her eyes as she read it, and a little crease appeared on her forehead. "It says get a life, jerk." She went walking off toward her friends as Bradley looked around for someone else to help him out. The guys were all playing pool and darts, but he didn't trust them as far as he could throw them anyway.
"Hey, Penny," he called out, cutting off several people who were trying to order drinks. He leaned all the way across the bar top to where she was pouring a martini. "Tell me I'm not losing my mind."
When he held up his phone, she squinted at the screen, and then her eyes went wide as she smiled at him. "I think someone overdid it and finally stated the obvious."
He was sweating now, afraid he was going to get this all wrong. "Like you think this is actually how she feels?"
She laughed and handed off the martini before pouring some wine. "Well, I don't want to speculate on someone else's behalf..."
"Bartenders are supposed to speculate," he told her, ready to climb over the bar and chase her down as she turned away from him to serve the wine. "It's your god given obligation."
She glanced at him over her shoulder. "Well, then, merely speculating, I would say that the way the two of you cozy up with each other seems a little more than platonic."
He shook his head. "No, that's probably just me you're reading in the scenario." But she was shaking her head back and forth as well. "It's her, too?" Now she was nodding as she reached for a pint glass. "Like she might actually want to make something happen here?"
"Speculation," Penny told him. "But I think you should find out for sure."
He could call you. He pushed himself away from the bar, found a nice, quieter corner, and he tapped your number in his phone.
'Hi, it's me. I can't answer my phone, probably because I'm flying a seventy million dollar aircraft at the moment. Leave a message.'
"Damn it," he groaned, already thinking about how nice it would be to sling his arm around your shoulders and lean all the way in next time. Let his lips meet yours instead of hitting the brakes like he'd trained himself to do. "Wait!" he said to nobody in particular now that he'd walked away from Penny. "Cowboy Star!"
Bradley had the fortitude to keep his phone out and use the rideshare app he had downloaded. He was definitely not sober enough to do this in the Bronco, and he couldn't stop fantasizing about your song playing on the jukebox while he had your body pressed up against the wall. He needed to get to you and get some questions answered. 
He chose the closest driver in the app, and while he was waiting for Julian in his white Toyota Camry to arrive, he read your text again.
Blaze: Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.
"Is she so serious right now?" he asked the night air as he wanted in the parking lot. "Is she so fucking serious about this? I think about it, too!  A lot!" he practically shouted as he responded to your text.
Blaze, call me back. Are you talking about a kiss on the cheek? Or something more? We need to discuss ASAP.
"Hey, are you Bradley?"
He looked up to see the white Toyota was just sitting there. You had his head so messed up at the moment, he hadn't even noticed it.
"Julian?"
"Yeah, man," the driver replied, and Bradley quickly climbed in the backseat. "You're heading to Cowboy Star?"
"Yeah," he grunted as he buckled his seatbelt.
"I love it there," he said as he pulled out onto the road that ran parallel to the beach. "My wife got me the porterhouse for my birthday."
Bradley stared at his phone screen, hoping you'd write back or call him. "I'm not actually going for dinner. I'm trying to find a girl."
Julian whistled and shook his head. "Man, you should have just stayed at that bar."
He tipped his head back and groaned. "It's a very specific girl. And she's out with some friends for a bachelorette party."
"You know dudes aren't really supposed to go to those things, right?"
Bradley rubbed his free hand across his face and said, "I know, but she sent me this text that is very thought provoking." 
"What's it say?"
He kind of felt like an idiot telling his story to his Uber driver, but he still wasn't sure he was understanding your words correctly. It just didn't make sense. 
"Julian, I am very firmly in the friend zone with this hot girl from work, and tonight she sent me this message: Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time."
"Bro," Julian said as he hit the accelerator a little harder. "You're so in, man."
"Am I?" Bradley asked, squeezing his phone and wondering why you weren't calling him back. "Like, this girl is smoking hot. She's cool as hell, too. And we flirt a bit, but it never goes anywhere. And now she's not answering me."
"Just hang on." Julian went a little faster still. "I'll get you there so you can sweep her off her feet."
Bradley hung onto the door handle, not even sure he knew how to sweep you off your feet. What kinds of guys did you usually go for? He'd be lying if he said he never noticed that your last boyfriend kind of looked like him. And in general, you seemed to have a thing for guys with brown hair who were pretty tall. 
"Shit," he grunted, just torturing himself by imagining he could be the one holding your hand and making you laugh. "Are we almost there?"
"Hell yeah, dude. Next block up."
When Julian stopped at to the curb, Bradley lunged out onto the sidewalk as he shouted, "Thank you!"
"Good luck!"
The restaurant was absolutely packed, and even the line to talk to the host was long. After a few seconds, he simply walked to the front and cut everyone else off.
"Hey!" complained the woman who was now behind him as he cleared his throat and addressed the host. 
"Excuse me, but do you know if there are still three hot women here eating dinner together?" he asked the host who gave him a bland look. "They were all in tight little dresses. One was red, one was blue, and one was like a gold color. And one of them was wearing a bachelorette sash!"
"Oh," he replied with a little smirk. "Those three." Bradley didn't appreciate the way his little grin grew as he said, "Hot is certainly the right word to describe them."
"Are they still here?" he asked impatiently, trying to look past him into the dining room now.
"No. They left about an hour ago."
"Fuck," he groaned, pushing away from the podium and storming back outside into the night. He found a spot on the busy sidewalk where he could stand, and he tried to call you again. 
'Hi, it's me. I can't answer my phone, because I'm probably flying a seventy million dollar aircraft at the moment. Leave a message.'
He wanted to scream, but he calmly said, "Blaze, it's Rooster. Call me back." When he hung up, he opened the rideshare app again, and he luckily saw Julian on the map immediately and tapped on his little icon. "Come on, Julian," he muttered, already looking down the street for the trusty Toyota to make its return. "Yes!"
Bradley threw himself into the backseat once again as the driver asked, "That was quick, bro. What happened?"
"They already left for the strip club," he groaned.
"Cheetahs?" Julian asked, tapping at his own phone before he started driving again. "Not gonna pretend I've never been there before."
Bradley tried to call you again, and once again he got to hear your voice tell him you weren't available. "I just don't understand why she's telling me this now, you know? I've known her for almost two years."
"Two years in the friend zone? Bro, do you have no game?"
"Julian, do not test me right now," Bradley said with a laugh. He held up his thumb and index finger and added, "I was this close to sealing the deal with another girl at the Hard Deck when I got the text from her."
"Ohhhh. So you're in love with her. Understood, my man."
Bradley sat back against the seat and stared out the window as the city lights streaked past. In love. Was he? You always seemed too perfect to get involved with. But love? Is that why he never pushed for more? 
"Damn," he muttered. "Maybe." Was the fear of crashing and burning what was ultimately holding him back? 
That was when Julian pulled a slick u-turn and coasted into the parking lot of Cheetahs which was advertising fully nude girls. He should have been concerned that suddenly the only girl he wanted to see that way was you. "Thanks, Julian," he said as he hopped out and slammed the door closed.
"You got this!"
Well at least Julian thought he could pull off something impossible tonight.
"Whoa, I'm going to need to see some ID." 
Bradley realized that his path was suddenly blocked by an absolutely massive bouncer with a bushy beard. 
"Come on," he complained, digging his wallet out of his back pocket. "I'm thirty-five."
"No ID, no entrance."
"Yeah, yeah. Understood," he said trying to get his driver's license free as one of the strippers walked outside for a break. He craned his neck to see through the open door as the loud music filtered out before the door closed.
"Hey, Cherry," the bouncer grunted, and Bradley looked down at the stripper who was leaning against the wall wearing a pink wig, the tiniest g-string and some pasties. 
She was looking at Bradley a little skeptically as she replied, "Hey, Murph." She kicked a rock out into the parking lot as she told Bradley, "You're getting here awfully late. All of the private rooms have been reserved for the rest of the night."
"I'm not here for that. I'm just looking for some girls," he replied, waiting patiently while Murph inspected his ID.
"Yeah," she said with a laugh. "We've got plenty of those. The hottest ones in San Diego, if you believe the neon sign above your head."
"No," he told her, really not in the mood to recount his story again. "I'm looking for some women I work with."
Now Cherry looked downright unconvinced as she asked, "Are you a stripper?"
Bradley accepted his driver's license back and gave Cherry a hesitant look. "Well, no, I'm not."
"Didn't think so," she muttered, and Bradley stopped in his tracks before he even reached for the door handle.
"Excuse me?" he asked, giving her a much more scathing look. "What's that supposed to mean? I'd be a fantastic stripper."
She shook her head and adjusted her tiny underwear. "You don't have the right build for it."
Bradley burst out into sardonic laughter. "Cherry, you must be joking," he said as he tucked his wallet away and flexed his biceps. "I could totally be a stripper."
"What song would you dance to?" she asked in an accusatory tone. 
"Sweet Emotion," he told her immediately. Yeah, he'd thought about it before, and yeah, he knew he'd absolutely kill it up on stage. But she just made a face in response. "What's wrong with my song?"
"Nothing, I guess, but there's no way you'd be raking in the tip money."
Bradley pointed across the parking lot to Hard D Boys, the male club that was associated with Cheetahs, and said, "Just for that, I'm coming back for their open auditions night, because you have no idea what you're talking about." She shrugged, and he shook his head. "I don't have time for this. Have you seen three hot women? A red dress, a blue dress and a gold dress? Like short dresses?" he asked, tapping his thigh with his hand to indicate that your dress left little to his imagination. "They are like around this tall?" he added, sticking his hand in the air around your height.
"Sorry, Mr. Sweet Emotion, but I only take note of the biggest tippers."
Bradley groaned and pushed the door open, and the music was so loud, it wasn't even worth trying to ask the bartenders if they'd seen you. As soon as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he walked around the cavernous club, trying to locate you three, but it was mostly men. And then he had the disturbing thought that maybe some guys tried to pick you up.
"Why are you doing this to me, Blaze?" he whispered to himself as he walked back through every corner he could find. He even asked a woman to check if you were in the ladies' restroom. He came up empty handed again. 
"God damn it," he said once he was back outside with Murph.
"To be fair," Murph said as he lit up a cigarette, "I think you'd make an okay stripper."
"Thank you for that," Bradley told him sincerely as he tapped his rideshare app again, but then he heard a horn honking and looked up. It was Julian, hanging out his car window. He'd waited for him. 
"She's not here?"
"No, Julian. She's not here!" he said as he rushed toward the Toyota and climbed in.
"Well, where are we going next?"
Bradley closed his eyes and thought about what Phoenix had said earlier at the Hard Deck. "Pleasure Town. They were going dancing at Pleasure Town."
"On it," Julian told him and shifted into drive.
It was after midnight now. Pleasure Town wasn't too far away, but he'd be lucky to even find you in there on the weekend. But if he did, you'd be dancing like crazy with the biggest smile on your face, pretending you liked the music they were playing while you thought about your own playlists instead. You'd be drinking some neon colored cocktail and trying to talk the girls into leaving to get cookies from that place that was open all night. You'd maybe even be checking your phone and finally, finally texting him back.
"Yeah, you're right, Julian."
"About what, my man?"
Bradley rubbed his hands over his face. "I'm in love with her."
Julian reached his arm back at a red light, and Bradley fist bumped him. "Yeah, that's what I'm talking about! I could tell right away. Don't worry. We'll find her."
But it got harder to be hopeful the longer he was in the dance club. There was barely any room to walk around, and there were dozens of women in little dresses that looked like the one you were wearing, but none of them had your face or your smile. You weren't here. 
He stood on the dance floor and read your text one more time.
Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.
He wanted to know what kissing you would feel like. Now that you opened his mind to something more, he'd never be able to stop thinking about it. But this time, he let himself finally focus on the word regret in your message.You'd regret what you said in the morning. He knew you; he knew you would never go for the idea sober. But he texted you one more time anyway.
Blaze, please call me when you get this. It doesn't matter what time it is. Just call.
When he walked back out into the cool, night air, Julian was right there at the curb waiting with a hopeful look on his face. "Bro, is she here?" When Bradley didn't respond, his face melted into sadness. "Or did she say the 'just friends' shit?"
"She's not here," he replied, once again climbing in the back of the now familiar car.
"We going somewhere else now? The pursuit continues?"
Bradley grimaced and said, "I think I should just throw in the towel and regroup. Can you take me back to the Hard Deck? I'm definitely sober enough to drive home now."
But even Julian sounded disappointed now. "Of course, dude. Anything you want."
"Thanks," Bradley grunted, watching as the city lights faded a bit as they got closer to the beach. When Julian parked near the Bronco, he said, "I appreciate all your help tonight."
He gave Bradley another fist bump. "You gotta start fresh tomorrow, man. And you can't leave me hanging, okay? I need a wedding invitation."
Bradley chuckled as he climbed out for the last time. "I'm about to leave you the biggest tip."
He tapped two hundred bucks into the app as Julian drove off shouting, "Good luck!"
With nothing else he could do right now, he climbed in the Bronco, cranked the engine and started to drive himself home for the night. He was tempted to swing by your place or at least try to call you one more time, but he decided to let you get some sleep before you started to regret your message. That way he'd have a little more time with this hopeful feeling in his chest.
----------------------------
There was pounding. There was so much pounding. Maybe someone turned the music up even louder at Cheetahs? Or were you at Pleasure Town now? "Make them turn it down," you moaned, trying to cover your ears. That's when you realized you were in your bed. At home. Someone was knocking on your front door.
"Wait," you croaked as loudly as you could, your ears still buzzing from the loud music all night long. The bachelorette evening had been highly successful. Halo had a great time. But now you were hungover and not in the mood to deal with anyone. 
As you climbed out of bed, you grabbed your phone from the nightstand to check the time. The battery was almost dead, and you had a bunch of missed texts and calls, but you couldn't even focus on that until the pounding ceased.
"Please stop," you whined, flinging your door open before you even checked to see who it was. When you saw him it felt like someone poured warm caramel sauce on your heart or shoved you hard into a wall made out of soft foam: he always made you feel good and gooey and squishy in the most heart pounding, confusing way. "Rooster."
When he moved slightly, he stopped blocking the sunlight behind him and you squinted your eyes and groaned as you took a step back. "Blaze," he said in that raspy as sin voice as he blessedly closed your front door behind him. "You have a hangover."
You nodded, but even that was too much. "What gave it away?" you asked him softly, still holding your phone.
He snorted. "Well, for starters, you're still wearing your dress from last night."
"Oh." You hadn't realized that as you looked down at yourself for confirmation. "We went pretty hard. I can't even remember much after you bought us the Johnnie Walker at the Hard Deck."
He remained quiet until you looked back up at his face. "You... remember texting me?" His tone was one you'd never heard before, and it took you a few seconds to realize he was nervous. On edge. Hesitant. He was never any of those things with you, and you didn't like this at all.
"I texted you?" When you lifted your phone higher, you started to wonder why he hadn't hugged you when you opened the door. He usually always did. He swallowed hard, and you watched the scars along his neck as his Adam's apple bobbed.
"You really don't remember?"
Now he just sounded really fucking sad, and for some reason your brain was screaming at you that there was something you were definitely supposed to recall from last night. Something about Bradley. You left him at the Hard Deck after he paid for the Scotch, and then you went to dinner and drank more while you thought about him the whole time. But there was definitely something else.
"No. I really don't remember," you whispered, annoyed with yourself. You felt like it was somehow your fault that his lips were pressed in a tight line and his brow was creased.
"It's not important," he replied, all businesslike now. "Can I see your phone for a minute?"
"Yeah," you told him, handing it over and watching while he punched in your passcode. "What did you end up doing all night?"
He sighed and looked at you. "I ended up following you around to no avail."
"Why?" you asked, still clearly missing a piece of this whole puzzle as he started tapping your phone screen with his thumb. 
"That's not important either," he whispered, and you decided you didn't like any of this. 
You snatched your phone out of his hand and wrapped your arms around his neck. Almost reluctantly, he hugged you back before reaching his hand up to where you were holding your phone, trying to get it again. "What do you want my phone for so badly?"
He was acting strange, and when he said nothing in response, you lunged out of his grasp and tapped on your text thread with him. 
"Blaze," he barked out, but it was too late. You read what you'd sent him last night.
Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.
"Oh my god!" you screeched. "I didn't delete that?! I hit send!" You couldn't even meet his eyes now as you tried to figure out how to get him to leave so you could cry in peace.
"Blaze, it's okay," he promised, but you knew it wasn't.
"You were going to delete that message. And the ones you sent to me after it," you accused. "Weren't you?" When he just stared at you silently, you realized he was trying to save you from being embarrassed, but it was way too late for that. He didn't want you. He was never going to want you.
"No hard feelings," he said softly. "Go ahead and delete it yourself. We can pretend this never happened."
"No hard feelings?" you practically wailed, afraid you were going to cry in front of him. "I just ruined everything. You were never supposed to know how I feel about you, Bradley."
As soon as you ducked your head away from him, his fingers were under your chin tipping your face up so you were looking him in his impossibly endearing brown eyes. "I need you to explain this to me. Okay?" He took your phone gently from your hand and held it up with the message displayed. "Please, Blaze. Did you mean it? Is that how you think about me?" When you nodded slightly, he readjusted his hand on your face so he was cupping your cheek instead. "Baby, I followed you everywhere last night. I called you and texted you and rode around in a white Toyota with Julian for hours on end."
"Who's Julian?" you ask softly as Bradley slid your phone into his jeans pocket.
"He's my new friend," he replied, which cleared up exactly nothing for you. "I went on this insane chase from Cowboy Star to Cheetahs to Pleasure Town just to try find out if there was even the slightest chance that you really meant what you said."
He closed the distance between your bodies as he stroked his thumb along your cheek. "It was supposed to be my little secret," you whispered. "I just typed it out to see how it would look. I read it in my head and imagined how you might take it. It was supposed to get deleted. You were never supposed to know."
"Is it really so bad that I do?"
His question hung in the air between you, and once again you nodded. "Yes, Bradley. Yes, because it's going to complicate everything now. Work, and our friends, and hanging out at the bar. It's all ruined. Because you'll never look at me the same way you used to."
"Blaze," he rasped. "Baby, I don't want to look at you the same way I used to. Like I was never going to measure up. Like I could never be what you wanted."
You gasped as your eyes went wide. "What are you saying?"
He groaned and pressed his lips to your forehead, and you melted against him. "I'm saying that I chased you all over the city last night hoping like hell that you meant what you said. And that you didn't regret it."
Your head was spinning, but not from the hangover as you thought about how it could feel to be with this man. "You want this?" you asked in awe as your hands eased up along his chest to slip around his neck again.
"Desperately. And if you think you want to see where it goes, we can take it slow, you know?" he asked, his brown eyes hopeful once again. "We don't have to rush into anything crazy."
But you knew you were already kind of crazy about him. You had been for a long time. So you whispered, "I think I could fall in love with you," and his lips came crashing to yours. You moaned into his mouth. His lips and his mustache were even better than all those times you'd imagined kissing him. His huge hands were bunching up the fabric of your dress at your hips. You wanted every part of your body to be touching him from now until forever.
This was how good it felt when you and he stopped pulling your punches. When you both stopped pumping the brakes. You raked your hands through his wavy hair, gasping for breath as you asked, "Did you really try to find me last night?"
"Of course," he promised as you kissed along his mustache and across his cheek. "It was enlightening. I learned a lot about myself. Hey, do you think I'd be a good stripper?"
"God, Rooster," you groaned just thinking about it. "You'd be an excellent stripper."
"I fucking knew it," he grunted, half guiding you and half carrying you to your bedroom. "Listen, we should cuddle right now, but I'm going to need you to come to Hard D Boys with me one night. I'm pretty sure it's just to prove a point, but you never know."
You really weren't positive what he was talking about now, but it didn't matter. His lips were on your neck, and his weight was pressing you down onto your bed, and he was saying the most wonderful thing.
"I know for sure I could fall in love with you."
-----------------------------
He's such a simp, he would chase you anywhere. Imagine taking your brand new boyfriend to his stripper audition just because he has to prove a point. I mean, I wouldn't complain lol. Thanks for reading! And thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @thedroneranger
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prael · 23 hours
Text
Phonecalls
Kinktember Day 24: Vicarphilia
IVE Gaeul x male or female reader smut
words: 3,757 Kinktember Masterlist
Happy Gaeul day!
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Gaeul is the personification of the phrase ‘Don't judge a book by its cover.’
A big personality inside a small stature, Gaeul's appearance belies her true self. She's enigmatic, she's witty, she's charismatic, she's funny, and most importantly, she's honest. Honest, almost, to a fault.
She's your best friend, and she has always had your back. When you were down, she would always pull you back up. When you were lost, she would always find you. Gaeul has always been there for you no matter what, and you always knew you could rely on her. You trust Gaeul implicitly, and she does you.
There's this other side to Gaeul too, see, she looks ever so innocent. The way her voice always carries with excitement, it's always so full of life and wonder. Innocence is always an assumption people have of Gaeul. It's completely, and utterly incorrect, but people tend to assume it nonetheless.
Gaeul called you up as she usually does, and yes, you were busy, but not even an hour later you found yourself at a cafe sitting across from her. It was important, or so she said.
"Look at this message. He definitely wants to bone me, right?" Just like that, you had your regular reminder that all those assumptions about Gaeul are wrong.
"I don't know, he just said he wants to get drinks," you answered, albeit in the least convincing tone in your arsenal. Of course, he wanted to bone her.
"Exactly, drinking leads to being drunk and being drunk leads to boning."
"I've gotten drunk around you loads of times and we never ended up in bed together."
Gaeul squinted at you disapprovingly. "Well, we almost—"
"We don't talk about that, remember. Anyway, what's the problem, isn't this basically your dream Friday night? Boy meets girl, boy and girl get drunk, boy takes girl home, boy and girl fuck until they fall asleep," you told her, tilting your iced coffee in her direction as a gesture of encouragement.
"So you do think he's gonna bone me?" Gaeul asked, leaning back on her seat as she chewed on her bottom lip, no longer sure what to think of this text.
"Okay, maybe, but what's the problem?"
"He seems a bit clingy. He's all 'It would be cool if we could get dinner before' or 'I'd love it if we could go watch that new film that's out'," she groaned. "What am I, his girlfriend?"
Some psychiatrists would probably diagnose this as something born out of attachment issues or maybe some insecurity. Whatever, why bother with the analysis? She just hates relationships. 
She's young and having fun—a lot of fun. Sex, and plenty of it. Men and women in equal supply. Either way, relationships aren't on her agenda.
That's not what this story is, anyway. This story is not about Gaeul, not really. Her raunchy nights with strangers are important, but for you, it's more about the morning after.
"So cut it off with him, then. Give him some fake excuse and ghost him before you have another person falling for you."
She slammed her head onto the wooden table of the cafe. "Easier said than done. I mean he's funny. And he's pretty cute." She peered at you, an evil grin now curling her lips, "And I still want to bang him."
"Gaeul, we both know how this ends, you're going to see him tonight and you're ending the night on your back."
"Counter argument: maybe I'm on top."
"Alright, sure, but why am I here? You're only going to call me right after anyway."
"Well..." Gaeul said, leaning closer. "He has this friend and—"
"No, I'm good," you told her and she reeled back from your instant rejection, her eyes wide as if you'd shot her dead.
"Ugh, you're no fun." She shrugged, unfazed, as her hands flew across her phone's screen.
"You know where I get my fun."
"I'll call you after, don't worry," Gaeul said with a slight curve in the corner of her mouth, and that was the promise you held her to.
The promise she was right now upholding. Your phone is ringing with a call from Gaeul and it's the perfect way to start your morning. You smile, content that your best friend has kept to her promise.
"So? How'd it go, was he as big as you hoped?" You ask as you roll over onto your side and prop yourself on one elbow, the smooth fabric of your silken sheets beneath you.
"Big enough," she says followed by a satisfied hum, and you can just imagine that Gaeul must have the kind of stupid, satisfied smile that reaches her ears right now, "The things I let people do to me."
You shake your head and roll your eyes at that last part. "Come on, Gaeul, are you going to keep talking vague? The suspense is killing me." Your lips spread into a teasing grin that you're pretty sure Gaeul can hear through the call. You do very much appreciate her elaborate storytelling.
"Alright fine," she sighs, and the satisfaction is still there, if the subtle laugh she gives is any indication. "The drinks were good and went down easy. There was the small talk and the questions. So, I told him, he could ask any question as long as I got to ask any question I wanted afterwards. We were curious enough about each other and eager enough. We agreed.
"He started with these boring ones, 'What made you dye your hair black', 'Do you prefer salty or sweet foods', and all that other shit. But then I asked him a question that made his eyes pop."
"What was it?" You ask. Gaeul pauses, but the anticipation is a welcome feeling. Her playful silence lets the anticipation rise in you.
"I asked him, 'My face or my ass'?" You both laugh. That was so typical of Gaeul. Typical, but ever so effective.
"And what did he pick?"
"My face, though I don't think he understood I was asking him where he would prefer to cum. His face was so innocent when he said it. I wanted to give him a pat on the head for such a good answer," she explains in an exaggerated cutesy voice.
"He was all the usual, 'Oh you're so pretty' and 'Oh you're so adorable'. Yadda, yadda, yadda. I'm not saying he wasn't right because I do look really pretty," Gaeul quipped, to which you smiled, and she continued, "It went on for a while, he started asking some... hotter things. About how and when I touch myself."
"Usual guy stuff, sure," you joke, and you take delight in how she snorts a little giggle.
"Sure, well, next came his inevitable, 'Want to head back to mine?' Of course, I said 'Yes'. Then he said he would call us a cab, which, thank god, because it's much harder to do hand stuff on a bus compared to a cab."
"But not impossible," you interjected, remembering how she once described being felt up by someone in a packed train car. The way she grinned as she recounted it made her quite the bad girl.
"Anyway, we get in the cab and he just can't keep his hands off me. All over my tits and shit," she lets out a dark chuckle before her voice falls deeper, lower, sensual, and with the emphasis of a dangerous edge, "Don't know if the driver appreciated it but I sure as fuck did."
"Tell me more," you say, putting Gaeul on loudspeaker and placing the phone on the pillow by your head. You lay flat on your back and stretch your muscles. The joints of your toes curl into the sheets and push them down into the mattress as you arc your spine, and the deep inhale you take through your open mouth is soon followed by a relaxed exhale.
"He just slipped his hand up my shirt while she kissed my neck," Gaeul continues, bringing the memory to life with her words. She recounts in precise and deliberate detail how her nipples went hard the instant she was touched, the electricity sparking inside of her as he pinched at them with thumb and forefinger.
There's a rustling from the other side of the call before she continues her story, "We get in his place, he gets the door locked behind him, and the first thing I feel is his hot breath against my ear. It was warm and it tickled just a little bit. Then he whispered in a low voice that I can tell he thought was seductive."
"What did he say?" You ask, eagerly.
"'Fuck, I've never been this horny with someone so quick before'," Gaeul says and pauses. You both share a small laugh before she goes on, "Honestly, I did think it was kinda sexy at the moment, you know? Then he pulls off my shirt. Doesn't even unbutton it, just over my head with all the buttons. Guess the horniness was getting to him."
"Can't blame him." you run your hand up your own torso, fingertips barely brushing over the smooth, warm skin.
"And fuck, I was horny too. I was hungry. I turned and pinned him to his door, you should have seen the shock on his face, and I planted a kiss right on his lips. He wasn't that great. Wasn't really my type of kisser, actually. Too stiff, his lips were too dry, but still a kiss. I guess," Gaeul gives every little detail about him; from how his height stood a whole head taller than her, to how his eyes shone in the dark with a hint of anticipation. "I wasn't there for the kissing, so it was fine, and that's when his hands grabbed my ass. He was so rough, you should have heard the smack his palm made as it landed."
You hum in approval and bring a hand between your legs. In your mind's eye, you see her ass being spanked and groped, and you feel yourself growing more aroused. "Go on."
"Rough hands," Gaeul breathes into the phone. "I fucking love it."
"Yeah..." You sigh grab hold of your thighs and stretch out the tension.
"I could feel it, how hard he was, poking through his trousers and into my stomach."
"You loved feeling how hard you got him, didn't you?"
"Fuck yeah," her voice, dripping in lust and sex, was deep and steady like it always was when she gets like this. "So I dropped to my knees, practically ripped open his belt buckle and pulled down his zipper. And those pants fell to his ankles just like that, and then came the thing I was actually there for."
"Let's hear it," you urged.
"Like I said, good size, that's for sure, I've seen way worse. No way near the biggest dick that I've taken though. Anyway, I start stroking him with one hand," Gaeul lets out a gasp. You're not quite sure if it's for the benefit of her storytelling, but her sounds have always driven you crazy. "And then with my other, I've got his balls cupped and he's fucking loving it.
"I could tell, his cock was getting so big and so hot. It throbbed so much in my hands, so much so I could feel the blood pumping through him. And my hands were moving faster, my lips, teasing his tip, kissing, nibbling, even licking. I loved every fucking second because his dick tasted so good. After all, I could feel how worked up he was. So, I took him whole, you should have heard him moan, it was the cutest groan,"
Gaeul then breathes out heavily into the microphone, and her breath hitches in her throat and comes out short and sharp. You close your eyes and try and imagine the scene, and Gaeul must be reliving it too as you listen to her soft, sharp, wet breathing over the line. You tease yourself and plead with her, "Don't stop."
"And I'm looking up at him, through my lashes, and his eyes are almost pleading like he was trying so hard to hold his cum. Like he's trying to impress me, prove to me how much stamina he has. He's letting little moans and grunts out from his cute little lips, he's gripping the door handle so tight his fingers were white, and his knees are trembling. He's about to cum in my mouth, and my pussy is aching for him," she continues and lets her sentence trail off into a whining moan as she imagines his dick twitching inside her mouth.
"So quickly?" You ask, pushing your underwear down to your knees.
"I'm just that good, babe. The second my mouth met the shaft of his cock he was practically ready to burst. My tongue was dancing over the head, and I could taste the precum," Gaeul recalls. Her voice sizzles in your ears, and it is more like a deep purr, and it sends thrills down your body. A soft exhale escapes your mouth, and you're imagining her tongue caressing a hard dick. "And I'm only sucking harder now, stroking him faster. My left hand gripping onto him tight and tugging away. My right cradling those balls of his."
"All to make him cum," you utter in an aroused voice that you tried to hide but couldn't.
"Shit babe, it worked. I didn't even have time to prepare for him," she recounts. "He bucks his hips into my mouth. Barely has a chance to grab my head, he just blows so soon. All his cum was hot, and he was flooding my mouth."
"Shit..." You moan softly as you visualise a young man bucking his hips and releasing into Gaeul's mouth.
"Did I just go over to his to swallow his cum?" She asks and gives a laugh.
"I hope not."
"You wanna know what's funny?"
"Tell me," you plead to her.
"He came so quick that he went bright red, embarrassed, stuttering like a schoolboy that got caught smoking by the principal. All the courage he built up earlier in the taxi ride was completely gone. I couldn't help but laugh, mouth full of his cum, laughing at him. But I'm not going to lie. As he deflated so fast after he blew, all that bravado disappeared."
You let out a soft, something, barely a laugh, hesitating to touch as Gaeul grinds the story to a halt.
"Not funny?" she asks.
"Just, wish you'd continue, kinda in the middle of something here."
"Sorry, okay, where was I," Gaeul trails her words. "So I swallowed every drop, wiped at my chin where I've spilt a little and the guy still looks like he's going to die. I wanted him to suffer in the embarrassment a little, I wasn't going to tell him 'It's okay', so I got up and pulled him across his apartment. The guy nearly fell over his trousers since they were still on his ankles until he kicked them off.
"So the guy is a bit of a clean freak, by the way, the apartment was spotless. Somehow, I'm leading him to his own bed, don't know where the fuck I'm going but I find it and push him onto it. At this point, the guy's half-naked, sprawled, with his hand over his dick."
"All shy after your pretty lips have gotten him off, huh?"
"Right." Gaeul laughs, "So I stand at the edge of his bed, kick off my sneakers then pull down my jeans and drop them beside him. Then, he's staring at me and I ask him, 'Like the view?'"
"Stupid question, you're smoking," you interject with a smirk on your lips.
"The guy says, and I quote, 'Holy cow.' Who the fuck says 'holy cow'? Holy cow, babe, just holy cow," Gaeul starts laughing something manic, a cackle which is matched with a soft sigh, "Then, I just kinda laughed, like really, really laughed. It's all absurd, you get what I mean?"
"Oh god no he didn't?" You asked though the amusement was already creeping through.
"Right? What an idiot. Well, he was turning redder and redder as I was dying of laughter. It's about this time I realised I was so horny I had seduced pretty much the biggest loser in the city. Anyway, I had to shut him up, so I climbed onto the bed, and then onto his face. Dropped myself onto his stupid mouth. And then..."
"Then?" you prod her on.
"His lips and his tongue..." She makes a small moan, pleased, deep and sexy, and the sound is so hot. "Hungry boy. He starts lapping at my pussy like he was starved. He's all groaning and humming, and the vibration. That feels fucking great."
"Oh fuck..." You let a tiny sigh, one that you meant to keep to yourself, escape your lips. Gaeul keeps talking and in your mind, you're there with her—her voice fills your mind and draws an image. She tells you how she fucks his mouth, your imagination takes over.
"His tongue dances on me, licking over my lips, my clit, his lips were smacking and sucking on my most sensitive parts. He was so... energetic," Gaeul tells you. Your eyes closed, you can only imagine, in full detail, every stroke and flicker of his tongue as she described it. "Worshiping my pussy like it's the best thing in the world. So when his hands are grabbing hold of my ass and bringing my cunt to him even harder... Shit," Gaeul breaks from the story and swears.
You can't hold back anymore, touching yourself to the thought.
"He wanted this so bad. His hands were clamping hard onto me. His mouth sucking on me like a fucking vacuum. His tongue was all over the place. Everywhere it touches is like a jolt of electricity going through me. It's sending such great signals up my spine, right to my brain." Gaeul lets out a full, deep moan. One that is as tantalising as her words. It's followed by the sound of rustling. "I start just grinding down into his stupid fucking face."
You'd love nothing else in the world right now than to have Gaeul ride your face. "I can't get over how fucking delicious you would look like," you tease, "With that dumb guy, pinned under you,"
"I was moaning like crazy. If the neighbours were asleep, well, not anymore," Gaeul describes.
"Fuck," you respond as you find rhythm. You lose track of everything else, picturing Gaeul riding his stupid face until she cums.
Gaeul moans again, louder now, and with a husky, raspiness to her tone that you have memorised.
"There is no shame left in me, my hips moving into him with a need, a need for release," Gaeul chokes, then resumes with a pace of her own, "I can feel his fingers digging deeper and deeper into my flesh, and he was rocking my cunt even harder into his hungry mouth. His tongue, working so good. So, good...
"Just remembering how it felt... I'm gonna..." Gaeul moans again, throaty and harsh, and you picture it all in your head. She is sitting up in bed, legs wide apart, and fingers buried deep inside of her pussy. Moaning into her phone, moaning to you.
It's an amazing fucking image.
"I can feel my entire body starting to go warm, my thighs clamping onto the poor guy's skull. Oh my fucking god, his tongue, I love it, his tongue," Gaeul makes a long, low and whimpering moan, like the air was squeezed out of her lungs. "It feels like I've lost myself in time, completely. I'm going faster, my hips rolling into him faster and faster, desperate for relief. Then all of a sudden, it's all hitting at once, the spark just lights and I am exploding like a supernova, my core just bursting, and my pussy flooding his fucking stupid mouth."
You're chasing her high. "Shit," you find yourself whispering, softly at first and getting louder as you feel yourself nearing that beautiful feeling of sweet relief.
"I'm cumming so hard, his tongue is still going, still drawing out every last bit of my climax as he keeps feeding on me. The sheer fucking madness of the sensation... fuck, imagine that."
"Yeah..." You groan. "I am."
"You're so filthy," her words drip of sultry sex and that tease in her voice sends a tremor down to the base of your spine, setting your insides ablaze as the blood in your veins rises, the throbbing inside you reaching an incomparable peak. "Are you getting off to my story? I fucking dare you."
You close your eyes and breathe in the thought of her. Every inch of her lustful body, "I am."
"Fucking perv," she growls, her breathing sharp and shaky, erratic. A sound that resonates within your bones, and shakes you to the core. "Bet you want your lips wrapped around my clit. Let you suck the sweet nectar from my tight, hot pussy," she breathes through her teeth in a hissing sound as she falls over that edge. You can feel her shiver and quake. You hear every little shuddering whimper, every moan that escapes her soft, pretty little lips, and they ignite every sense in your body as if you can feel the electricity coursing through every nerve in her body, just as it is inside you.
You cum for her. You always cum for her, just like this. Your toes curl and your back arches. You twist, writhing under the feeling, your skin blazing as sweat rolls over it, your whole world coming to a beautiful standstill. You can't help but cry out her name in your bed.
"Nothing else makes me cum like this," you mumble, breathless and ragged as you finish, then add "You slut."
"How does it make you feel, hearing my dirty sex stories first thing in the morning?" Gaeul purrs. There is a sinister satisfaction in her tone, and that coy smile curling the corner of her mouth is definitely there in her voice. You can imagine it clear as day because it has been etched into your brain, that stupid, irresistible grin of hers.
"More," you beg, the aftermath of your orgasm, leaving the inside of your body searing hot, a sensation that you want desperately more of.
"Not now. Later," she sneers, knowing how it kills you inside.
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leclercsluvs · 11 hours
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LN4 | Our Forever Moment
an: i still don't really know how much i like to make written fics, but i have ideas for them so i'm going to continue to try and write them, i think. my first language is NOT english, so sorry if there's any mistakes <3 pairing: lando norris x fem!reader, vasseur!reader (this is gonna be fun, lowkey not important, gets mentioned like a few times because i forgot) warnings: swearing (like twice) inspired by: mine - taylor swift word count: 6.2k
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As she’s being dragged to another race, she wonders when her dad is going to realize she's always running off and never in the garage of his own team, she doesn’t know that he’s fully aware she’s never there. She’s been welcomed by everyone she’s visited though, which does make him happy. She mostly goes to Mercedes and Red Bull, but lately Mclaren has been looking quite interesting. 
“Are you going to stay in the Ferrari garage today? Or am I gonna have to send someone over to Red Bull or Mercedes to find you?" Fred looks at yn with a playful smile.
“I didn’t think you noticed.” She's quite shocked. He always seemed to switch off being a dad whenever they stepped into the garage, so it never even occurred to her that he even wanted her there.
“Who do you think sends someone after you at the end of the day?” He turns back around as they get closer, “I think you, Charles and Carlos would be great friends if you gave them a chance,” they turn and walk into the Ferrari hospitality. “Oh speaking of boys, have you found a boyfriend I need to approve of?” He quickly looks back to see her surprised face before he turns back to see where he’s going, even though he could probably navigate it blindfolded.
“Well first of all, you wouldn’t need to approve of him, this isn’t the middle age,” yn lets out a small laugh, “and second, all of my relationships have failed, you’re partly to blame for pulling me to almost every race, and then I guess I’m just not girlfriend material.” She follows her dad around, because even if she does get pulled to all races, she usually doesn't hang out here for more than 5 minutes before she’s off to find Max or George. 
“Chérie, anyone not willing to spend the short time you're home isn’t worth your time,” he stops in his track turns around and puts a hand on her shoulder, “and I’m not sure if I ever said it, but if you truly would prefer to stay home and only travel to a few, that is fine. I would understand.”
She gives him a reassuring smile, “I know. You wouldn’t have been able to drag me out of the house if I didn't truly want to be here.”
He gives one quick smile before continuing walking, and before she knows it, she’s left to herself because he’s needed for something important.
~~~
It doesn’t take long for Charles to spot yn, sitting by herself, because apparently everyone else is busy today. “Yn? what are you doing here? I thought you’d be off doing something with Max?” Charles looks around to see if Max is around and he just hadn't seen him, but it’s a lost cause, which he should have realized, Max wouldn’t be seen anywhere near anything related to Ferrari. Except for Charles of course.
“No he’s busy. Everyone suddenly got busy.” She looks back down at her phone and the messages between her and her friend, however it would be rude to text back while Charles is in front of her, so she turns it off and stuffs it in her pocket. “I don't really remember the last time everyone, well except for you I guess, was busy at the same time.” 
“Well, I’m meeting Lando and Oscar for lunch, do you want to join us?” Charles asks with a smile, flashing some cute dimples. Not that anything could ever happen between the two. As attractive as Charles may be, her dad was his boss, and nothing good was going to come out of that. 
“I think I’d like that,” she smiles back as she picks up her bag with her essentials, “it’s nothing fancy right? I didn’t really get dressed for something over the top.” She looks down at the ripped jeans and the oversized t-shirt that she’s wearing. Not exactly the cutest outfit.
~~~
“So you still live with your dad?” Oscar asks curiously, they all seemed fairly happy she was invited by Charles. And Oscar, who she hadn’t really spent any time with, has been asking a lot of questions. 
“I do. I may be 21, but living at home is just a little easier. And I like spending time with my dad, even if I run off to other teams at the first chance I get.” She answers as she takes another bite of her food. Lando has been awfully quiet and it didn’t go over yn’s head. She was fully aware of how glued his eyes were to his food. 
“Is it weird? That your dad is responsible for a Formula 1 team?” Oscar almost forgets to eat, because of all the questions he’s asking.
“It was in the beginning, but I've gotten used to it by now,” she takes a sip of water. “Is he always this quiet?” yn looks at the way Lando is poking his food “and is he always just poking his food?” She questions, making Lando's eyes move up for just a split second and then back down to his food.
“No. He’s usually pretty chatty, maybe he’s just nervous for tomorrow," Oscar says, finally eating some of his food. “He doesn’t usually get like this before a race though,” Oscar leans his head a little to the side as if thinking about it, before poking a finger in Lando’s side making him jump a little. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” Oscar asks.
“Maybe he’s got a new crush,” Charles jokes, taking a bite of food just as Lando suddenly coughs and gulps down water.
“Are you okay?” Yn asks as Lando suddenly gets up from his chair avoiding any and all eye contact.
“No, I’m actually not feeling so great. I think I’ll have to cut this short if I want to be good to go by tomorrow.” He quickly gathers his things as everyone looks confused. “Bye!” And then he’s out of there.
“Well that was weird.” Oscar says as he goes back to eating
“Do you think it was me?” Yn looks at the rest of the men sitting around the table, a little sad that she may have ruined their lunch.
Charles smiles. “Yes,” he says, looking at yn, “but in a good way. I think I might be right, even if it was just a joke.” He lets out a laugh. “I’m sure there’s some truth to it.” He goes back to eating, and so does yn, deciding that maybe she’ll talk to Lando in private.
~~~
On his way back to the hotel, Lando struggles to figure out his emotions. Of course yn is absolutely gorgeous. But considering she’s Fred's daughter he wouldn’t dare to think of her as anything but a friend. He may not race for Ferrari, but he still has a lot of respect for the man. And Lando knows about his reputation of not being able to keep his relationships going for long. Hopefully he can just subtly ignore her. Because the feelings, and thoughts he had during that lunch were not friendly. And before he even considers anything, he needs to make sure his feelings for her are romantic, and not just him finding her pretty.
~~~
Lando spent close to 4 months avoiding yn to the best of his abilities, and when he wasn’t ready and she caught him off guard he made up some weird excuse about needing to look at data, test the car, try some new Mclaren merch for photoshoots. Yn usually knew they were lies, and wondered why Lando was so set on avoiding her. To be quite honest, it brought down her mood, and she spent more and more time in the Ferrari garage and hospitality. Her dad sensed something was wrong. She was rarely there and suddenly she never left? Something was going on and he was going to get the bottom of it. 
“I see you’re spending time here today,” Fred sat across from yn. She was eating lunch. Alone. That was how she spent most of her time lately. All alone. Lando had unknowingly made her really anti-social.
“I guess.” She poked a little at the salad she had bought. She didn’t really want it anymore. 
“Did the others have plans?” Fred asks, looking around.
“I’m not sure.”
“Is something bothering you?” Fred asked, concerned for her daughter who used to have a lot to talk about. A lot of people to talk to, and who never spent time at lunch alone in Ferrari.
“Nope.” Fred sighed. He wasn’t going to get any answers. If it was because she genuinely just didn’t feel like talking today or if there was something wrong, he wasn’t sure. But he was gonna ask Max, or maybe Lewis to talk to her. He didn’t want her to be lonely. He got up from his chair. He had to get this started immediately. 
Fred’s quest to find Lewis was surprisingly easy. He found the soon-to-be Ferrari driver hanging out with Charles and Carlos near their own garage. “Lewis! Can we talk?” Fred called out before he reached them. Lewis just nodded and started walking towards Fred.
“Is it about my contract?” Lewis asked cautiously. He knew he hadn’t been performing that great in the Mercedes this year and was afraid Fred was going to only make it a year so he could be finished with him.
“No. I need you to talk to yn. She's suddenly spending a lot of time with Ferrari, but alone. Which, as you may know, isn’t where, or how, she usually spends her time.'' Fred looks really concerned, and it’s like it’s transferred to Lewis immediately. He’s known yn ever since her dad started dragging her along. She would usually spend time with George when she went to Mercedes, but sometimes when George wasn’t there and she just wanted to be somewhere else, Lewis and yn would play some games. Usually chess. Lewis was definitely better than yn but she still loved it. They could often lose track of time and suddenly one from the Mercedes team would come and get Lewis to either do some media related stuff or because it was time to get ready for a race.
“Of course! Now that you mention it, I haven't seen her around Mercedes for quite some time now. I’ll see what I can do, if I can't figure it out, I'll have Max ask her. They’ve always had quite a special bond I don't understand” Lewis gives the man a reassuring smile and a clap on the shoulder “Don’t worry, we’ll get her back to her talkative self very soon.”
“Thanks Lewis,” Fred looks relieved, but only for a second when his eyes widen. “Do you think Max did something to her? To make her feel this way?” He looks around as if he's scanning the surroundings for Max. And good thing he isn’t around. It wouldn’t have been a good outcome.
“I doubt it. He’s always been nice. Especially to her,” when he realizes how that may sound to the man in front of him and the way his eyes narrow, he quickly adds “as a friend. Not romantically. I’m pretty sure he’s actually in a relationship.” Fred seems to almost relax at those words and gives Lewis a quick pat on the shoulder
“Hurry up and get my daughter back. I miss her.” and with that he walks off. Hopefully not to find Max. And if so, Lewis sure is glad he isn’t Max right now.
~~~
When Lewis finally finds yn sitting just on the outside of the track he’s surprised she was allowed. But then again she probably just mentioned being Fred's daughter and she was allowed. “Hey there. Looking cozy. Mind if I join you?” He doesn’t wait for a response, just sits down next to her on the grass.
“What do you want?” She asks. Not really feeling the company right now.
“You haven’t been spending much time with George lately. Have you been spending more time with Max?”
“No.” Straight to the point. But not really the point Lewis was looking for.
“Have you been spending time with Charles and Carlos? Since you’re spending so much time with Ferrari at the moment?”
“Would that be a crime?” She looks at Lewis, and he sees something different. Her eyes don't look as alive as they usually do. They’re missing the glow that makes yn herself.
“Yn, is something wrong? You know you can talk to me. Or Max,” he waits for a second, not sure if he should continue, but as she starts plucking at the grass without answering he decides she needs to know. “Your dad is worried about you.”
“Oh.” She answers, plucking a few more grass straws
“Did something happen?” Lewis asks, trying a different approach.
“I don't know. Maybe you should ask Lando.” Lewis is unsure what Lando has to do with this entire situation, but he promised Fred to get to the bottom of it, so he will.
“Did he do anything?” Lewis is ready to fight Lando. “If so, I’ll gladly talk to him”
“Well, maybe he’ll talk to you,” yn shrugs and gets up from the grass. “I have no idea what I did to him. He seemed happy enough about me being invited to join him, Oscar, and Charles for lunch a couple months ago, and then during lunch he was so quiet, barely looking up from his food and then he suddenly said he wasn’t feeling great and needed to leave.” Yn turns around and looks at Lewis, tears starting to form in her eyes. “He has ignored me ever since. Every time I’ve tried to talk to him he either runs away or makes up some dumb excuse to get away from me,” she wraps her arms around herself as if to protect herself. “I’m sorry,” she says, shakes her head and turns around again and starts walking away. “I shouldn't have put all of this on you. I'm probably just overthinking it anyway.”
"Wait!" Lewis is quick to get up from the grass and gets a hold of yn’s arm, ”I’m glad you told me. Let me talk to Lando. See if I can figure out why he’s avoiding you. Maybe there’s a reason,” yn smiles a small smile, but it’s better than the empty expressions she's had lately. “Nice to see you’re still capable of smiling.” Lewis returns it with a smile of his own and guides her towards the Mclaren hospitality. “Now let’s get to the bottom of this.”
“Thank you. Not just for this, but also for always putting up with my bullshit.” Yn looks straight ahead. She wasn’t exactly planning on saying any of that, but oh well. It won’t hurt anyone. 
Lewis just laughs and pushes her lightly. “You should be grateful. It's impossible to keep putting up with it.” If he wasn’t laughing while saying it, she would have been hurt, but she just laughs with him and follows him, to hopefully get some answers from Lando.
~~~
Lando was not expecting to see Lewis, so he wasn’t able to run off as quickly as he usually does, and when he spots yn behind Lewis, he tries to make up some excuse about having to talk to an engineer about a possible car problem but Lewis stops him. “Lando. That’s enough.” He puts a hand on Lando's shoulder before he gets a chance to run off. “Why do you keep running away from yn?”
Lando sighs, he can’t run away from it anymore. “I kinda would prefer for this conversation to happen between just me and yn.” He runs a hand through his hair and down the back of his neck. 
Lewis looks back at yn, then at Lando, then back at yn, “are you fine with that?” He asks, while she nods and follows Lando into his drivers room
“So.” Lando starts, not really sure how to get the conversation going.
“Why have you been ignoring me for the past 4 months?” Yn asks, wanting to get this solved as soon as possible. “Did I say something that upset you so much during lunch that day?” Yn can feel the tears threatening to spill over, but she would like to get through this conversation without crying.
“No! Oh my god. Not at all!” He turns around because he’s not sure he can look at her while telling her this. “I think I might, sort of, have feelings for you.” The room is filled with silence. Lando is almost afraid she ran out of the room, If it wasn't for the fact he could hear her breathing. 
“So you decided the best action was to avoid me?” Yn asks, with a playful grin. If she had known this was all it was she would have had someone talk to him earlier. 
Her playful tone makes Lando turn around with a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have ignored you or run off every time you tried talking to me. I was just afraid I would end up spilling a full love confession, and I’m not sure your dad would be too happy with that.”
“Well he doesn’t get a say in my love life.” Yn closes the distance between her and Lando. 
“I suppose you’re right.” Lando takes a step forward, making the distance between them smaller.
“So are you going to be doing anything about it?” Yn tilts her head slightly.
“When I have planned it,” Lando smiles and takes a step back as he feels a vibration in his pocket. “Damn, I actually do have to go now,” a text from his engineer asking him to come back for a meeting. Lando grins and walks towards the door, “but you're totally free to stay here until I’m back. And trust me, I’ll be spending the entire meeting planning the perfect way to ask you out.” He flashes a quick smile before he's out of the door and yn is left alone in the room. But this time being all alone is different. She doesn't feel all alone. She’s the happiest she’s been in four months.
~~~
“I have the perfect plan.” Lando and Oscar are doing a track walk just to have something to do and make sure the track is fresh in their memory for the practice the next day. 
“Yeah?” Oscar isn’t really sure it’s going to be as perfect as Lando thinks it is. “Are you totally sure about that?” He questions, raising an eyebrow, while taking in the surroundings of Monaco.
“I’m 100% sure.” Lando nods. He knows exactly what he’s going to do. He’s in fact not going to ask directly. He’s made a fun little game, and got a few drivers in on it. “Just promise me to not ruin it when she comes to you.” Oscar sighs. He obviously isn’t going to spoil it.
“How are you going to ask her? If you aren’t doing it directly.”
“That’s a surprise.” And no matter how much Oscar pushes, Lando doesn't tell. Just smiles and shakes his head.
The next day when yn arrives at the paddock Alex greets her as soon as she’s arrived. “For you.” He says and hands her a letter.
“For me?” Her face is full of confusion as she opens the letter. 
“Dear yn, I’ve made a little scavenger hunt for you. I hope you’re going to have fun. At the end you’ll find a surprise. Here’s the first clue.”
That’s the end of the letter. “So what's the clue?” If anything she's even more confused now, it doesn’t even say who it's from. It could be from George. But she doubts it. He’s never done anything like this before.
“Oh right, I almost forgot,” Alex rushes and pulls a small lego car from his backpack. more specifically a Mclaren lego car.
“So I'm guessing I have to go to Mclaren?” She questions and looks at Alex who just shrugs. So that’s where she heads to next. Who knows how long this is going to last. She does think it’s going to be fun though. She’s always loved clues.
As she gets closer to the Mclaren garage she finds Oscar standing looking around holding a letter in his hand. As he notices her, he walks towards her. “Here. From a mystery man.” He says, hands her the letter and walks off trying to look mysterious.
Yn laughs and opens the letter. This time, there’s no text. Just a card. “Happy fathers day.” She reads out loud. That’s all the card says. “I guess that means i’ll have to go to my dad?” She wonders out loud. Would this person involve her dad? Would her dad want to be involved? “Hm, probably just ferrari.” She says as she notices the card is mostly red.
She walks over to the Ferrari garage but can't find anything and decides it might be at the hospitality. As she enters the building she notices Carlos standing with a smile on his face and a whistle in his hands. “Here you go.” He hands her the whistle as she reaches him. 
“That's it? Not a letter? Anything to guide me more than-'' she looks down at the whistle now in her hand, “a whistle?” She looks back up at Carlos who looks around.
“Consider the first letter of the whistle.” He whispers and quickly walks off, whistling. 
“The first letter of whistle is w. So..” she thinks for a second. “Williams?” She laughs and quickly walks over to the Williams hospitality, but to her surprise finds no one, and decides it must be their garage then.
Here she finds Logan happily holding a small boat toy. “For you.” He says and hands it to her. Happy to be included. She smiles and wonders if this is the last one.
“Thank you, Logan.” She sends him a smile and walks to the dock to find a boat. Not really sure which type of boat, big or small. But she’s determined to find it. 
When she gets to the dock, she fears it’s going to take a long time, until she spots Charles casually sitting on a yacht. As she approaches she notices a full basket of red bulls sitting beside him. “I guess I’m going back to the track. To Red Bull. Their garage?” She is sure to get those 10k steps she’s supposed to get every day. 
“Yeah, if you want something to drink on your walk, I have plenty,” he pushes the basked towards yn and gestures for her to bring it, “in fact, let me join you on the way back, I was only sent here to give you the clue, and I don't drink Red Bull, so I can return it.” He smiles and gets up, taking the basket full of cans. “Are you having fun so far?” Charles starts walking back towards the track with yn following.
“Yeah. It’s a lot of fun,” she answers as she opens a can of the regular Red Bull, "I'm excited to see who set all of this up though” she looks ahead and takes a sip of the can.
“I can’t wait for you to see who arranged it,” he says. And that’s all he says. Yn tries to get more clues about who it is, but Charles’ mouth is shut. He’s not letting anything slip. And they arrive at Red Bull way earlier than yn was expecting so she doesn't get nearly enough time to interrogate Charles about who it is. 
“I see you’ve come to terms with the fact Red Bull is the best.” Max teases as Charles and yn are within hearing range of a normal voice. While holding a bouquet of flowers?
“Ha ha ha,” Charles smiles, as he hands Max the basket full of red bull cans, “I’m just keeping yn company, and decided to return these as I won’t be able to drink them.” Charles laughs and gets into a conversation with Max until yn clears her throat, reminding them she’s still there.
“I’m looking for a clue,” she says, begging that it's close to being over because she’s tired of walking from one side of the track to another over and over.
“Oh right,” Max hands her the bouquet of flowers he was holding. She takes them in her hand and her eyebrows furrow.
“What kind of clue is this?” She looks at Max whose eyes go wide.
“I forgot this.” He pulls a letter out from his pocket and hands it to her.
“Another letter. Is this the last one? I don't know how much more walking I can do.” She looks so defeated but reads the note.
“If you received this letter, that means you figured out all the clues. I know you were just there, but you can find me on Charles’ yacht. Where the big surprise is waiting.”
She looks up as she finishes reading. “He’s got to be kidding. I swear to fucking god, if this is George and he just made me walk from that yacht, back to the track and then back to that stupid yacht i’m going to go insane.” You look back at the letter. 
“My yacht isn’t stupid.” Charles pouts as Max hits him on the arm. “Ow?”
Yn sighs, “I guess I’ll get going. Thanks for the flowers I suppose.” 
“Oh they were not from me. They were from him. Just hurry up,” Max looks down at his phone, “practice starts kinda soon, and he can’t be late.” Yn starts walking back towards the yacht. She can't wait to kill the man that made her walk this much.
Lando however has been setting everything up ever since yn and Charles left. Strawberries covered in chocolate, and since he doesn't like chocolate, strawberries without chocolate, candles on a small table on the sun deck. As yn gets closer, Lando walks down to greet her. “I swear to fucking god George if this is yo-” her sentence gets cut short as soon as she sees Lando. “You set all of this up?”
“Yeah. You didn’t seem to like it that much?” Lando rubs the back of his neck. He wasn’t the best planner of a scavenger hunt.
“I kinda wasn’t the biggest fan of walking all the way out here, back to the track and then back here again.” She crosses her arms, but seeing the concerned look on Lando’s face she relaxes her arms and walks onto the yacht with a huge smile. “It was still kinda fun.” 
They spend a little while on the boat, sitting with their feet almost touching the ocean. Lando is not really sure if he should put an arm around her or not. He decides not to move too quickly and they just sit next to each other. “Oh I almost forgot,” she turns and looks at Lando. “I was supposed to tell you to hurry up, practice starts soon and you can’t be late,” she looks down at the strawberries, “but you distracted me.”
“Oh shit!” He gets up quickly and puts his shoes on, “meet me at the track! I would love to spend some time with you between practice 1 and 2!” He hurries up and practically runs all the way to the track.
~~~
For the next couple of weeks Lando spends a lot of time wondering how quickly to move forward. They spend a lot of time sitting near water, almost like the first time, except they don't have access to Charles' yacht every day. Every time Lando wonders if he should put an arm around her, but he never does. Until one day, when they’ve been sitting at the end of the gangway on the dock, their feet so close to the water, if they stretched them out their toes would be dipped in the water, and Lando’s arm comes closer and closer to making its way around yn. “Just do it already,” she says and leans on him, putting her head on his shoulder, “I've been waiting for the last many weeks for you to do it.” Lando can’t help but let out a small laugh and put his arm around her. 
“I wasn’t sure if you even wanted it.” He looks down at her quickly before looking back at the water. 
“I've been waiting for you to make some sort of move, so I knew if it would be appropriate to do this.” She says, as she sits back up straight and puts her hands on Lando’s cheeks and pulls his face closer. He puts his hands on her waist and pulls her closer while making sure none of them fall into the water. Her lips meet his softly, a tentative brush that sends a wave of electricity through her body. The kiss deepened, growing in confidence, and everything else faded away. All that existed was the two of them.
When they finally break apart, Lando puts his forehead against hers, a smile stuck on his face. He would never be able to forget this moment, and she wouldn’t either. “I’ve dreamed of this moment ever since that time Charles invited you to lunch.” Lando shares, not aware that yn has shared the same feeling since he shared that he had feelings for her.
“I was sure you’d do something about it sooner.” Yn lets out a small laugh and leans against Lando’s shoulder as he puts his arm around her.
“I was too afraid you didn't want to,” he says and lets out a sigh. “And I guess I just never thought to just ask.” 
“Well, you should have.” She smiles, before looking up at him, and he can’t help but smile back. They sit like that for a while. Just enjoying each other's company.
~~~
A couple weeks later, when they’re lying on the couch in Lando’s apartment, watching a movie, yn can’t help but smile, thinking about this moment, and how she never thought this would be a reality in her life. “Can you believe it?” She says in a soft whisper, her voice barely even audible.
“Believe what?” Lando asks, while his other hand mindlessly runs through the soft strands of her hair.
“This. Us. I never thought I’d be in such a happy relationship while traveling so much.” She says, softly tracing small circles on the back of his hand, that’s draped across her waist.
“Well I’m glad you're happy,” He says, placing a kiss on the top of her head, earning a soft hum from the woman. “You know, you could bring some stuff here. Just enough for a drawer if you don’t want to get too serious.” He mumbles, nuzzling his head into the crook of her neck.
She can’t help but smile, because she had been thinking of asking. “That would be nice, especially considering how much time I spend here.” She brings his hand up to her lips and places a soft kiss there, before going back to the movie.
~~~
It didn't take long for her to basically move in. It wasn’t official, but it might as well have been. She spent more time there than she did at her own home. But Lando didn’t mind. In fact, he loved having her there. They even started spending time together publicly, whether that was around Monaco when it wasn’t a race week, or if it was in the paddock. The fans had noticed how close they had gotten, and speculation quickly began. Were they a couple? Just friends? No one knew. Did Fred? No. But he wasn’t stupid, he knew something was going on, but he didn’t want to ask. But he didn’t mind, as long as yn was happy. And she was, for the first couple of months. And then it seemed like Lando had other priorities. Of course she knew racing was important to him, and she didn’t expect to suddenly be on the absolute top of his priority list, that would always be F1 and she knew that. However, that didn’t stop the feeling of neglect starting to spread through her. She knew he had a packed schedule, but she would often find herself wishing he had more time for her, yet it just seemed he got less and less time for her.
As the relationship between them progresses, small arguments make it to the surface. Usually sparked by the fact yn feels unimportant, or that Lando misses a date or an anniversary. It’s never his intention, and he always makes it clear that he loves her, but as it continues to get worse and worse, she begins to question it. She even stops believing him 100%.
It was 2 am. Lando had just returned back to the hotel after the race in Singapore. He silently opened the door to the room he was sharing with yn, expecting her to already be sound asleep on the bed, but to his surprise she was sitting up, leaning against the headboard with the bedside lamp on.
“Can we talk?” She asks, her voice soft but filled with a hint of vulnerability.
“Of course.” Lando quickly closes the door and walks over to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Look, I know racing is extremely important to you, that it’s everything to you, but,” she pauses for a moment, not really sure how he’s going to take this. “What about us?” She asks, her voice shaking slightly.
“I know it’s been tough, and I’ve not been the best, but I’m under a lot of pressure right now,” Lando looks up at her and he can see the way his words hurt, and he can’t help the defensive tone that creeps into his voice. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“Didn’t have a choice? You’ve always had a choice! You chose to sign up for all those PR events. All the additional promotional videos. Do you know how it feels to always be the last thing on your mind?” Her voice raises a little as the frustration takes over, and she searches Lando’s eyes for a reaction, just some sort of reaction.
“I never wanted you to feel that way,” Lando sighs and looks her in the eye, he genuinely never wanted her to feel like she was his last priority. “But this is my career, it’s what I’ve worked towards my entire life.” 
“And where do I fit into that? When you talk about your future, you’re talking about your next race, the next podium, the next win. I can’t continue to just sit back and wait for you to finally have time for me. I can’t continue to just be a spectator in your life, Lando.” The hurt is visible on her face, and she turns away momentarily to look out the window. The rain is subtly falling outside, and small drops of water roll down the window.
“I thought you understood when we got together.” He says, trying to defend himself. “This is my life, my dream. I never wanted you to feel like you're not important.” His voice softens, but his tone is still defensive as he tries to avoid addressing the core issue.
“I did understand. And I’ve been nothing but supportive, but it’s been months of you forgetting a date, or something else. And I’m not asking you to quit racing, I would never do that. All I’m asking is that I become a priority too. Because right now it feels like you’ve made a choice. And it’s not me.” Tears start to swell up in yn's eyes, and Lando is at a loss for words. He never wanted it to get to this point, but he doesn’t know what to say. He looks away, and that’s the last straw for yn. She swings her legs off the bed and grabs her suitcase that she packed as soon as she returned from the race, since they were planning to leave early in the morning anyway. “I’ll give you some time to think about all of this. But I won’t be waiting forever. Figure out if this is something you want. Because I can’t keep doing this.” And with those words she leaves the hotel room, and into the elevator.
She walks out into the rain, with tears flowing freely from her eyes. She stops and takes a deep breath. She doesn’t want it to end between her and Lando, but she also can’t continue to just be a bystander in her own relationship. As she grabs her suitcase and is about to begin walking she hears Landos voice. “Wait!” 
She turns around and sees him walking in long strides toward her, the rain already drenching his hair. “I don't want to lose you. I’ll never leave you alone again,” he says as he reaches her. “I remember how it felt when we were sitting by the water on our first unofficial date. Every time I look at you, it’s like I’m seeing you for the first time all over again. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He places a hand on her cheek and gently rubs his thumb along her cheekbones. “Please don’t leave. We’ll make it work. I’ll make time for you. You’ll be my first priority, I promise.”
She looks up at him with an aching heart at the raw emotion in his voice. For a moment she wants to believe him, to just forget all the missed moments, but the pain is still too much. 
“You say that now, but what happens when life gets busy again?” She asks in a whisper, her voice shaking as she speaks. “What happens when I become the last thing on your mind again because something else takes priority?”
Lando’s hand trembles slightly against her cheek, but he doesnt pull away, and neither does she. The rain falls a little harder, and their breaths are visible in the cool air of the night.
“I won't let that happen.” His voice is filled with an urgency, a need, that she’s never heard before. “I know i’ve failed you, but this time-”
“”This time,” she interrupts him and takes a step back, resulting in his hand slipping from her cheek. “How do I know this time is any different?” She looks at him with tearfilled eyes, waiting for an answer she might not want. But it doesn’t come. Instead, Lando takes a step closer and his eyes are filled with so much love and hope.
“Because this time, I know what it’s like to lose you,” his voice is trembling and he pauses for a moment, searching for the right words. “And I can’t. I can't lose you.”
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kittyfrisk9 · 3 days
Text
IdeaDpxDc: A nice moment with a sleep demon/2
Part 1(?)
Note: Sorry, I don't know English, use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.
Dead On Main.
---
Peace is, without a doubt, a precious commodity.
That was the conclusion Jason came to after a long moment of reflection, observing his cosmic boy: the dream demon who had saved him from that endless nightmare.
They were both in a field covered with flowers in shades of blue, purple and pink, under a starry sky where the stars seemed to shine with an unusual intensity. The same scenario as the last twenty times.
Yes, they had seen each other again. After Jason refused to forget that moment, the demon simply visited him again the next night, without even bothering to hide.
They didn't do much, they just played, had fun and enjoyed sweet moments together, like now, when the demon came up with the peculiar idea of ​​making flower crowns.
However, despite being the one who had the idea, he was the last to finish his crown. Jason found it sincerely adorable how the demon frowned, frustrated at not being able to tie a knot. Her expression was so cute that Jason couldn't help but smile. Sure, he could have helped her, but that would have robbed him of those precious minutes of admiration for him.
He didn't know how much time passed, he just watched and pondered. After all, time in this place was strange.
"I'm done!" Void exclaimed, proudly raising his crown. "Isn't it pretty?"
Jason replied with a simple "Yes." However, he wasn't looking at the flower crown, but at the creator of it. Although Void didn't seem to notice that detail.
"Thank you. It's the same design that Sa-Saiph showed me!" He commented, satisfied.
There it was again. Those little slips of information that Jason had noticed in the multiple conversations they'd had. Jason chuckled; Void wasn't very good at hiding data. He mentally noted it down in the special folder he'd created in his head for him anyway.
Because he'd be a liar if he said he didn't try to find out more about that demon with the information he'd inadvertently given him. Though, to be honest, he didn't try very hard either.
After all, he could see that Void was a nice guy. (And maybe, just maybe, Jason had a little crush on him.)
"One of your friends?" Jason asked curiously.
"Yeah, my best friend," Void replied. "She's a huge plant fanatic. I suspect she's on the level of Poison Ivy."
"Eh, it would be a problem to have another plant invasion," Jason commented, remembering the woman's extremist past. How many times had she invaded the city with her plants?
"Oh no, no, it only happened once, and she was being forced to do it," the demon suddenly stated, as if trying to quickly correct the impression he had given.
"Your friend invaded a city with plants?" Jason asked, incredulous.
"Just once," Void emphasized, as if that made it any better.
What the hell? How had that not reached the ears of the Justice League? Forget it, he decided not to ask. Some things were better left unsaid.
He decided to change the subject instead.
Unintentionally, his vision focused on the hands holding the crown, and then on her arms. The areas on his arms were decorated with a design that reminded Jason of a starry sky, filled with tiny, glowing stars and nebulas against a dark background. It was so beautiful, as if Void's arms were an extension of outer space.
As he looked closer, he realized that some other parts of his body also shared that surreal effect of a universe filled with stars. There were sparkles of light on his skin that seemed to dance with every movement, creating an ethereal and captivating image.
"Your skin… is amazing," Jason said, without thinking. "You look like you're made of stars."
Void smiled, a little embarrassed. "Thanks. I guess it's just part of my nature. I've always loved outer space."
Jason was silent for a moment, enjoying the revelation. "Really? Why?" He asked, genuinely curious to know more.
Void looked at his hands fondly. "I think it's partly because of my older sister. When I was little, she was… gone for a while. It was only a short time, but I was lonely. Then, on a call, she told me that I wasn't alone, that the stars were keeping me company. She said that every point in the sky was a friend watching me." Void then turned his gaze to Jason. "It's a silly story, right?"
Jason shook his head. "No. It's cute." Then, blushing, he added, "I have things I like too for certain reasons."
Void looked at him with interest. "Really? I'd love to hear about it."
However, Jason looked away, visibly embarrassed. "No."
The answer made Void's expression immediately deflate. "Oh, ancients… Why not? Tell me, tell me, tell me!" He exclaimed as he excitedly threw himself at Jason, eager to discover his secrets.
Jason laughed. "Still a no." Then he quickly dodged Void, jumping up and running to avoid being caught. Void, amused and exasperated, chased after him, insisting that he deserved to know.
"Come on! It's not fair!" Void shouted with laughter as he ran after Jason.
Fresh air, laughter, and the feeling of freedom filled the field of flowers. Yes, this was the peace Jason so desperately needed.
As dawn came, Jason woke up. His bed was really comfortable, and the little meetings with his sleep demon were truly relaxing. Jason had certainly had a satisfying month.
Stretching out on his bed, Jason wondered what he should have for breakfast, until he saw him.
He immediately sat up cursing the person creepily standing in the corner of the room: the demon brat, still in Robin's costume and staring at him. "Shit, Damian! What are you doing standing there?"
Damian completely ignored his question and, in a serious tone, asked, "Todd, do you do drugs?"
"What?" Jason frowned.
"You laughed a lot in your dreams," his younger brother said, his expression a mix of curiosity and disdain.
Jason looked at him in disbelief. Had this kid been spying on him all night while he slept?
---
Note: Sorry, I don't know English, use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.
One of Damian's hypotheses is that his brother uses drugs. As for Jazz, she had an accident in her parents' basement that injured her arm, so she had to stay in the hospital for a while. Danny felt super lonely without his older sister.
Comment that nobody cares about: I wasn't planning on continuing with this, I know it's poorly written, but inspiration came when I saw this (honestly it's a very weird way to get inspiration)
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shanastoryteller · 3 days
Text
Meg is the first choice, of course, but she’s not suited to this type of long term mission and they all know it. The problem is, almost none of them are. The nature of the beast, she supposes.
That’s why it ends up being her, in the end. Well, it’s almost Ruby, but there’s one thing she has that Ruby doesn’t.
How she ended up here in the first place.
She thought Clyde loved her. She thought he’d take her away, from her father and her terrible life, and so when he died too young, before he could fulfill any of his promises, she’d sold her soul to bring him back.
But he hadn’t kept a single promise. She’d died in her father’s house.
“You remember being in love, don’t you?” he asks, cruel in his callousness, which is different than his other types of cruelty. It’s all he has, shining out in a thousand different ways. “You’ll be better at faking it.”
All she does is fake it.
“Yes,” she says.
This mission gets her topside. It’s worth it for that alone.
~
She slips into a pretty blonde named Rebecca first but by the end of the day, the girl’s screaming has given her a headache, and she slips right back out. She’ll probably just think she had a bad trip.
He’d offered to arrange something for her, but she wanted to pick herself, and she’s not interested in having someone crying and moaning in the back of her mind. But it’s not like there are a lot of options.
She could kill one, of course. But she’s never – she hasn’t been topside, before. Everything she’s killed before had already been dead. So she hovers for the next week, looking for some sort of opportunity, for something she can use that’s not going to scream at her.
The day before she’s going to have to either pick someone or risk being sent back, there’s a car accident.
The girl’s heart is still and her body’s warm, blood pooling down her head, but that’s nothing she can’t fix. She settles into the body, jumpstarting the heart and can feel the skin on her head knitting back together. It’s also blessedly, thankfully silent, with her the only one inside this body. The driver who hit her is dead and people are crowding in, a crying girl pulling her free. “Anne! Anne, are you okay, oh my god, I can’t believe that happened-”
She wrinkles her nose before smoothing out her expression.
The name will have to go. She’ll say she’s reinventing herself after tragedy, or something, but she’s not going to walk around responding to Anne. That’s not her name.
Anne’s a sophomore, which isn’t ideal, but she’s beautiful and doesn’t have that many friends and barely talks to her family, so she’s actually perfect.
She’s also blonde.
She’d been blonde before too.
~
All the demons who had run these sort of missions before give her advice, tell her things that will help her. Some of their assignments had lasted months, but no one’s tried to do it for as long as she’s supposed to.
He likes smart girls.
Be confident. Be flirty. He’s shyer than he looks.
He never had a mother. He likes it when girls take care of him.
He likes to take care of girls too. He wants to feel useful.
She’d had dreams, before, of all the ways she’d could escape her father. It wasn’t common for girls to get more than a basic education, but she’d been smart. She could read and do complicated sums and enjoyed the quiet evenings when she balanced her father’s books. She’d thought she might like an advanced education, thought it could get her out of her life, but hadn’t known how to manage it.
Clyde had seemed easier. More attainable. More realistic.
She’d sold her soul for nothing in the end. She hadn’t even got the full ten years of her bargain.
She doesn’t know how much of their advice she can take.
She can be smart, but considering the school they’re at, all the girls will be smart. She hadn’t been confident or flirty, which is maybe why she’d latched onto the first boy who smiled at her. She never had a mother herself and doesn’t know to act like one.
She’s never been taken care of and doesn’t know how to do that either.
There’s no way for her to do this. She’s going to be replaced and sent back below and he’ll be angry at her and she hates hates hates when he’s angry at her, what he does to her.
“Are you okay?”
She looks up, something cold on her tongue, but falters.
He’s standing there, warm hazel eyes and long dark hair, hunching to try and make himself smaller, and a smile on his face that does nothing to hide his concern.
“Do you ever feel like,” she starts, her dead stolen heart beating too quickly, “everything is falling apart around you and you have no idea what you’re doing and like maybe your whole life is one huge mistake?”
Well, fuck. She’s definitely being replaced now.
Except Azazel’s favorite throws back his head and laughs, smile stretching into a grin. “Every day of my life, more or less.”
“How do you deal with it?” she asks, scrubbing a hand over her face.
He shrugs. “Well, my brother would say women and liquor.” He seems to realize how that sounds a moment later and he pales, “Um, not that I’m – I’m not saying, I wasn’t trying to. He’s just sort of a cad, and – I wasn’t trying to, with you, uh.”
She feels herself softening in spite of herself. “So you’re not one to apply that method yourself?”
“No,” he says firmly, eyes wide. “God, I’m just – I’m sorry. I – I’m Sam.”
“Hi Sam,” she returns, with a smile she doesn’t have to fake. “I’m Jess.”
~
She’s not supposed to fall in love with him.
She’s to worm his way to his side. She’s to keep him from running back to his family, to keep him from rebuilding the bridges he’s burned. She’s to keep him distracted and focused on her until his powers activate and then she’s to guide him into using them, to be supportive and loving and to push him straight into Azazel’s arms.
Sam loves his family so much.
He talks of his brother all the time. His father less, the emotions there more tangled, but love no less fierce.
She nudges him away from it, talks to him about how it’s normal for families to grow apart, to say that they’ll understand when he graduates, that he’ll show them they type of man that he is.
By the time he graduates, his powers will start manifesting, and he’ll avoid his family without her prodding. He knows what they’ll think of him, then, and Jess tells herself that she’s helping him. That this is for Sam’s own good.
If he’s with her, then he’s safe. His father won’t kill him while he’s safe at school. He can’t kill Sam for powers that he’ll never know about.
It’s easy to dig into the anger for his father, to use his last words to Sam as a way to hold him at her side. His brother is more difficult. Jess doesn’t do much with that, in the end, tells herself that it would be too complicated, too suspicious, and as long Dean is sticking with their father it amounts to same thing anyway.
The truth is more complicated.
His father will kill Sam if he has to.
She doesn’t think that his brother will. She thinks that maybe he’d choose to protect Sam, over their father’s wishes, over everything he’d been taught, no matter the consequences.
She fears that she and Dean have a lot in common.
She invites Sam over for holidays, makes summer plans with him, holds as much of his attention as she can manage.
She studies and makes friends and laughs and spends so much time with him, but not all of it. It has to be believable after all, has to be constant, in a way that it didn’t have to be with all the other demons sent to take care of him.
Jess lives a life that had been denied to her and tries to do what she was sent to do and does the one thing she was definitely not supposed to do, which is fall in love with Sam Winchester.
~
His brother shows up in their apartment and she knows that she’s going to lose him.
Sam tries to act angry, but she knows him too well. He’s moving around his brother like a flower following the sun and she asks him not to go, tries to find the words to keep him here, but they all get caught in her throat. If she begged, if she threw a fit, if she demanded it of him, he would stay. He’d tell his brother he’s sorry but he’d stay with her and not help him and burn their relationship for good. He loves her enough to do that for her. She knows it.
She loves him enough not to make him.
He kisses her and she knows it’ll be the last time. He doesn’t.
“What did that take, five minutes?” Azazel is right there, breath on the back of her neck, and his anger fury rage pressing down on her even closer. “Over three years at his side and you lost him in five minutes. What a waste.”
“I kept him for over three years,” she says, tries to keep her voice steady, but knows she fails.
She had him for over three years.
“Not good enough,” he whispers, lips on the shell of her ear. “Guess I’ll have to send Meg in after all.”
Pain erupts hot across her stomach and her screams mix with his laughter.
~
Love always burns her in the end.
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xomakara · 3 days
Text
Love Under the Western Sky
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SUMMARY | Two businessmen, Yunho and Mingi, are kidnapped by you, a female outlaw, and your gang, but eventually fall in love and build a life with you and your community.   
PAIRINGS | Yunho x Reader x Mingi
GENRE | businessman!Yunho, businessman!Mingi, outlaw!Reader, Western AU (off to the wild west we go), non-idol au, smut
CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, drinking, kidnapping, threesome, mentions of violence (gunfights), fingering, blowjobs, double penetration sex, unprotective sex, dirty talk, praising, pet names
RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+
LENGTH | 15,491 words
TAGLIST | --
NETWORKS | @illusionnet @atzhouse @cromernet @wonderlandnet
@k-vanity @othersideoutlawsnetwork @ksmutsociety
AUTHOR’S NOTE | Finally took forever! I want to thank @hobeemin for the beautiful banner/divider and @daddyfordaeddy for beta reading this long ass fic. Don’t forget to like, comment, reblog and show some support. Love you all 💚
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Yunho and Mingi did not imagine being in this situation. They did not think that they'd be tied up together as a band of crazy outlaws surrounded them.
"We're so fucked," Yunho said as he looked at Mingi. They were both bound by their wrists to each other's backs. Mingi was fiddling with the knot, but it seemed hopeless.
"It's your fault for flirting with her," Mingi snapped. "If you would've just listened to me‒"
"How was I supposed to know that she'd tie us up?!" Yunho replied. "I didn't even think she was a bandit! I thought she was just a pretty lady on the train."
"And look what happened!" Mingi retorted.
Yunho scowled. "Oh shut up. You were flirting with her too. If anyone should be blamed, it's you. You're the one who wanted to start a business out West."
"It was a good opportunity!" Mingi exclaimed.
"Yeah, and we lost our money. Good job," Yunho said sarcastically.
"Hey!" Mingi exclaimed. "If you didn't take the gamble with that asshole‒"
"Shut up, both of you!" You turned to face Mingi and Yunho, a knife pressed against your palm. The sight of you approaching made Mingi nervous.
He had heard of the West being a rough place. And he'd heard of bandits roaming the land, taking whatever they pleased. But he'd also heard of ladies like you. Pretty faces who lulled men into a false sense of security with their smiles before robbing them. He just never thought he'd actually meet a lady like that. And that lady being so damn beautiful was unfair too!
"Miss!" Mingi started. "Whatever you do, don't shoot us. I have money back home. A nice home and a lot of money. If you just let us go, I could make sure you-"
"Let you go?" You scoffed, grabbing Mingi's chin, holding his jaw. He tensed as your thumb moved over his lips. "Now why would I do that, pretty boy? I like a man with a mouth."
"Pretty bo‒ hey! Leave Mingi alone!" Yunho snapped.
"Or what, big boy?" you taunted.
"Big‒" Yunho began to stutter.
"Forget it," Mingi sighed as he looked at you. "Can we please just get this over with? Just rob us and send us on our way."
"Honey," you chuckled. "You really think we just want a bag full of cash?" You leaned down in front of the two and placed the tip of the knife beneath Mingi's chin. You trailed the blade along the length of Mingi's neck, giving him a grin. "You and big boy over here are part of the loot."
Yunho grumbled as you stepped away to greet a couple members of your gang as they finished raiding the train cars. "What the hell did they mean we were part of the loot? Why wouldn't they just take our things? Wouldn't it be easier? That's what I'd do, if I were an outlaw."
"You can't ask something like 'wouldn't it be easier'!" Mingi hissed. "There's plenty of shit outlaws can do."
"Okay, well if I were a murderer, you wouldn't be my loot," Yunho scoffed. "No offense."
"A little bit taken," Mingi admitted.
"Whatever. This doesn't matter. We just need to find a way to escape," Yunho sighed as he twisted around, trying to untie the ropes around his wrists. "Just keep an eye out for a sharp object or something."
Mingi nods. It wasn't going to be an easy task to get loose, not when a member of the gang had kept watch on them every minute they could, ensuring that Mingi and Yunho didn't get anywhere. But as Mingi had a thought to perhaps strangle Yunho for putting them in the position they were currently in, another member of your band made his way to the two.
"Hello boys," he smiled, squatting in front of the two with the ax on his shoulder. Both Mingi and Yunho tried to speak, but neither were able to form words under the pressure that man's presence seemed to exude.
"Shit," Yunho whispered, "we're really fucked now."
"Shut it, both of you," you turned, crossing your arms as you walked over. "Jongho, they're looking to escape. Keep an eye on them."
"No worries," Jongho replied. "I got 'em."
"Get Yeosang over here to help you," you said as you looked at the train platform. "I'll get the rest of the gang to load up the horses and wagons. Then we ride off with these two big fish."
"Are we bringing any other folks?" Jongho asked.
You hummed as you squatted down and looked at both Yunho and Mingi, turning their faces. Both men looked at you like children being scolded. Your laugh couldn't be stopped as you patted their faces and stood back up. "These two will be more than enough. If anyone is looking for them, I bet they're gonna offer a lot. And if they won't, we'll sell 'em," you said it simply, shrugging it off.
"Well, boss, I reckon you're right. Anybody that would travel in luxury like them must be rich," Jongho nudges Mingi, making the man scoff. "Hell, with a pretty face like yours, boy, you'll be worth double, ya hear me?"
You laughed as Mingi huffed in response to being teased. You tapped Yunho on the cheek, catching his attention. "And I can see why you'd make quite the catch too, sweet pea. And a smart one I'd suppose. Just look at that handsome face."
"I‒" Yunho couldn't even come up with a response, not that anyone cared to hear him talk. You laughed again.
"That settles it then," Jongho turned, and, as instructed by you, went to retrieve Yeosang. "We best get these boys loaded up."
"Give me your kerchiefs," you ordered. "We don't need any yelling or shouting to draw attention."
"Yes, Boss. Got it." Jongho patted your shoulder and began to make his way to Yeosang, leaving you with Mingi and Yunho as members of your gang began to herd passengers onto the train again.
It was not difficult for you. Not at all. 
However, you still had quite a job ahead.
"C'mere, sweet cheeks," you leaned down, getting right in Yunho's space. Your lips close to his ear as you whisper. "You want out, you'll have to ask me."
"You are absolutely mental‒" Yunho gasped. "Please, let us go‒"
You press a finger against his lips, cutting off any begging from the man. 
"Shh, sweetheart. If I wanted you to beg, I'd put that pretty mouth of yours to use," you chuckled, standing up straight once again. Yunho did nothing to hide the flustered expression and you simply flashed him a sly smile as you gagged him. You turned to Mingi. "How about you pretty boy?"
"Uh..." Mingi felt embarrassed just from you having tied the gag in Yunho's mouth and could imagine how red his face must be. "I was gonna beg‒"
"Hush," you hummed. "Sweet talking can get you places, but here? Not with me, it won't." You stroked his face, the smile returning to your features. "However, I would appreciate a silent partner. Like your friend there."
You turn from Mingi, deciding it'd be easier to let Yeosang and Jongho help you finish the job rather than tease the two boys for much longer.
After gagging Mingi, your boys do their job well, helping load Mingi and Yunho onto the back of a wagon to prevent them from running away. As much as your heart fluttered watching these tall men be tossed and turned by Yeosang and Jongho, it wouldn't be fun to chase them down should they decide to run off.
You mounted your own horse, petting her neck. She gave a slight whine before letting you settle. 
"I know, sweet girl," you coo. "Almost finished. Once we get home we'll be sure to give you lots of apples." She perks up and you chuckle.
"Got 'em, boss," Jongho announced. His horse trotting up beside yours. He stopped, tossing the reins of a mare that was following. You caught them, giving them a gentle tug, startling the horse.
"Good," you said, "I think it's time we leave."
You watched as Hongjoong and Seonghwa rode beside the wagons. San and Wooyoung on the back of wagons keeping close watch on the hostages and loot.
"Our day will end successfully, boys!" You shout.
They shout and cheer, happy from a day of plunder and robbery. It was quite the sight to behold and the poor city folk who saw your little caravan riding off into the wild definitely knew not to trifle with you or your people.
By now Mingi and Yunho had gotten comfortable with the ropes and their gags. Well, as comfortable as one could get with their ankles and wrists bound together and forced to ride in the back of a wagon.
In fact, as you and your crew got far off from the tracks, the rope around their wrists was cut by one of the men as a kind gesture.
"Looks like you two are the lucky ones. Our boss has a soft heart," Wooyoung added with a grin as he untied the last of Mingi's ropes and the gags. "But if y'all try to escape or scream, not sure what boss will do to you.”
"Oh trust me, we've heard the threats," Mingi replied as he rubbed his sore wrists. He sat up and looked at you, who was riding slightly behind the last wagon, speaking to Seonghwa and Hongjoong. "Who is she, anyways?"
“I’ll tell you the basics but don’t you dare repeat it to Boss or you’ll both be six feet under, got that?” Wooyoung warned.
The men nodded their heads quickly, agreeing that keeping their heads attached to their bodies would be preferred.
“Well… our boss comes from a rich family, back East,” Wooyoung explained. “Tons of land, cows, money and a father with an ill temper. The name isn’t something I feel too happy sayin’ aloud but they’re well known. Their sons, I guess you’d say they’re their greatest achievement. Good looks, but those same bad habits that plagued their father. But he had an eldest who was the best of them. Smart. Quick to make deals. Definitely the favorite out of the three sons. Boss’s family never paid her much attention since they thought their first son would be a good investment for her father.”
"So wait..." Mingi hums, rubbing his sore wrists and watching you intently.
"Don't interrupt, boy," San clicked his tongue. "So long story short, Boss got fed up, robbed her older brother and his finances, left, and moved West where she began working in saloons before picking up some o' my friends along the way and started forming a gang of her own."
Wooyoung nudged San in the ribs, making the man wince. 
"Awww, it's not just any old gang, it's a band of brothers and our lovely boss in charge," Wooyoung said happily as the cart came to a halt, forcing you and Seonghwa to move into the front of the caravans.
"Maybe today is our lucky day, Mingi," Yunho nudged his companion.
"Lucky?" Mingi whispered. "We were kidnapped by an insane woman, and her group of bandits are kidnapping us! What part of that could be called luck?! She might just have us killed at her command and if we escape it could cause an uproar with her people. I'd say we were really and truly cursed to ever get to the West."
Yunho rolled his eyes. "You are stupid."
“Hey!” Mingi exclaimed, feeling offended.
"She obviously could have killed us if we had offended her. She took a liking to you because you're pretty, pretty boy," Yunho scoffed.
“Well she's been eyeing you, big boy,” Mingi teased. “Haven't you noticed the way she looks at us?”
Yunho opened his mouth, wanting to say you'd looked at them the same way plenty of ladies had. However, when Yunho took a deep breath to counter Mingi's theory, you appeared with a water canteen in your hand.
"Alright boys, take a drink. You might not be bound but you aren't gonna cause trouble are you?" You were smirking and Yunho hated himself for the blush rising from his neck up to his face.
Mingi takes the canteen first and takes a quick chug, realizing just how parched he had gotten. He pulls away from the canteen and looks at Yunho.
You flash a quick, cheeky grin. "See? Pretty Boy likes the treatment. I wonder if Big Boy is the same. Care for a taste, sweet thing?"
Mingi watched you teasingly pat Yunho's cheek with the back of your hand. He passed the water to Yunho, and after gulping down a bit of the refreshing water, Yunho gently pushed your hand aside and let go of the canteen.
"Gotta admit," Yunho shrugged. "I thought a pretty woman wouldn't go around shooting innocent folk."
"You know," you tilted your head. "People used to tell me I was sweet, pretty... so innocent. Nowadays they tell me that I'm mean, greedy and absolutely out of my mind. People love to judge."
"I can see why," Yunho admitted with a quiet hum, looking towards your retreating form. "But I have to admit. For a woman running with a gang of outlaws..."
"I'm not running with them, big boy," you stated. "They're running with me. Remember that."
You disappeared to continue talking to Seonghwa and Hongjoong, the two main strategists of the gang. Once you had gone, Mingi hushed his tone to a low whisper. "What the hell was that?!"
“I'm just admitting that I can see why men go chasing after her,” Yunho confessed.
"For the love of god," Mingi pinched the bridge of his nose. "Are you really this naive, or are you just ignoring the possibility she could kill you and I, and dump our corpses right here?!"
"Look..." Yunho rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm trying to work on being optimistic."
"Trying. Trying," Mingi mimicked. "That's rich."
“Okay! Fine, genius, you have an idea then!” Yunho challenged.
"Well, no, not yet," Mingi responded, looking at the scenery around them.
"We're fucked aren't we, pretty boy?” Yunho sighed.
"...Yes."
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It had only been one night under the open night and another day of travel, but Yunho and Mingi were honestly ready to be killed, whether by the cold or by the outlaws. The blanket on top of their bodies provided little to no warmth and while they tried their hardest not to freeze in the back of the covered wagon, you were bundled up nicely.
As soon as it seemed the two would have finally lost feeling in their fingertips, you turned to them with the same, cool, indifferent gaze as the rest of the outlaw gang. Your features were smooth, but they all had hard eyes, and your band was made of some of the most brutal cowboys and bandits.
"I'm impressed, gentlemen. How are you not frozen stiff?” you asked, surprised.
Yunho wondered this as well, and found himself trembling from the chill that nipped at his nose, ears, and fingers. The flimsy, dirty cloth the two shared between the both of them offered little protection from the cold, and no comfort.
"Can I ask you a question? A personal one," Yunho was rubbing his numb fingers, desperate for heat.
You are riding next to the wagon again. Seonghwa and Hongjoong are still not willing to let you ride ahead on your own, in the event either of your hostages were foolish. "Since you were brave enough to ask it, yes. You may. It depends on the question though."
"Fair point," Yunho acknowledged. He and Mingi could have just asked anything to anger you. "My question... Why outlaws? If your family is as well off as I'm assuming-"
"So one of the two idiots," you looked at San and Wooyoung who both suddenly avoided looking at you, "told you, huh? It was bound to happen... But that is a fair question. In return, can I ask you some questions, big boy?"
"Sure," Yunho nodded.
"I know you have some skill with a gun, big boy. That must have come from a long line of working cowboys or farmers, right? Compared to pretty boy there," you point to Mingi, the man practically fuming about being called pretty boy. You continue. "It's just a feeling I got. Why didn't you grab a gun? Try to save yourself, sweet pea? Or maybe pretty boy was holding you back?"
Yunho shifts. His necktie hanging loose, and his clothes being an absolute mess. He shrugged, trying his hardest not to stammer. He was absolutely nervous by your blunt observation, yet could not say you were wrong.
"Funny..." Yunho muttered. "You read me pretty well."
"So? Why were you worried about that pretty face of yours, Mister...?" You looked at Yunho, trying to fish for a name.
"Yunho. Jeong Yunho," He cleared his throat. "Yea. And this is Song Mingi. He's my business partner and best friend. We've come out West to make a new future for the two of us. Mingi can use a gun but isn't a master at it. I wouldn't call him a coward, but he'd be a fool if he ever decided to pick a fight he knows he can't win."
“And you?” you asked, “Would you have shot me and the rest of my gang if pretty boy wasn't here, or did you hesitate for another reason? A lady in the group, for instance. Are you a man who won't shoot a woman, Jeong Yunho?”
Mingi gulps. "Don't answer that, Yunho‒"
Yunho doesn't get a word out before you interject, "Let him speak, pretty boy."
"I hesitated, because even if you're a woman, I'm not a fan of shoot-outs," Yunho explained, staring directly into your eyes.
"Is that so?" You seem satisfied enough by that answer, a grin plastered on your face. It unsettles Yunho. You have something behind that grin, he was sure of it. "Since you answered a few of my questions, I'll answer yours. Yes, I'm from a well-off family, and yes my father is a wealthy landowner. He owns thousands of acres of farmland, livestock, and plenty of money. My mother was a socialite from overseas, and my oldest brother was gifted with good looks and smarts and was the favorite son. My other two older brothers were spoiled rotten and used my mother's social influence and our father's business ventures to try and bed as many girls they wanted. Me on the other hand? I was the black sheep in the family."
“May I ask why?” Yunho inquired.
You crossed your arms, taking a quick look around. As much as you admired Yunho for his handsome face, your trust in people had already run dry from years of interaction with your parents and your brothers.
"To put it simply, I wasn't perfect enough to bag a rich man who was perfect in my parents' eyes," your bitterness could be felt throughout your entire body. "I was 'too mouthy', 'opinionated’, and definitely didn't ‘act enough like a lady.' I learned how to shoot guns, ride horses like my brothers, and could tussle like any ole cowboy. So, when I realized no man of worth wanted a tomboy as a wife, I stole from my older brother, set off west to build my own fortune and found the friends you see surrounding us. With a bit of their help, the fortune I inherited from the past years of robberies and swindling is only getting bigger."
"Now tell me," you suddenly frowned. "Do you think I'd be content with the life of a trophy wife and a woman with nothing to her name, while you men get praised for being adventurers, explorers, and the kings of the world? To hell with that, sweet pea. I prefer the freedom to do what I want, to tame what I see. There's no room for people who get in the way."
You pointed the muzzle of your rifle towards the men and stared straight on. "You should know, Jeong Yunho. If you or Mister Song Mingi decides to try to kill any of my men, or escape, I will not hold back. This isn't an invitation to stay and work with us, this is a warning for what will happen if you don't behave yourselves."
"Got it... but it is awfully cold back here," Mingi finally added. 
You did feel a bit bad for them since they had given no problem at all thus far. Sure, there were times they both had argued about when would be the best time to escape and make a break for it, but ultimately, Yunho just didn't see the reason to harm or attempt an attack on someone who was not outright being hostile to them. He was a neutral man. Even when your crew had stopped for a bite to eat, both the hostages ate their meals in silence. Mingi did glare every so often and Yunho just seemed to zone out, even as some of your gang poked a little fun.
You nodded over to San, who threw a quilt to the hostages. "Fine. Since I trust you to be quiet for another few hours. We'll be stopping soon so everyone can stretch and sleep comfortably. Don't make me regret this, boys."
As much as Mingi complained, the extra warmth felt better than the previous night. The quilt was still dirty and probably hadn't been washed in a few days, but it was better than before. Yunho couldn't exactly hide his yawn and the way he relaxed now that the chill from his shoulders had gone. The threat of freezing to death was gone, but he felt a prickle down his back from you staring.
You turned your head back and patted your horse, cooing softly to the animal. Mingi caught your smile from the corner of his eye and pouted slightly, his lips puffing out more. He kept staring for a few moments longer, before Yunho nudged him.
"What?" Mingi whispered harshly.
"And you said that I was the one gawking. Looks like you can't help yourself from drooling over her either," Yunho snickers quietly. Mingi punches Yunho in the arm. "Oww! Will you stop hitting me?!"
"I won't let you make fun of me! Not when she's not listening!" Mingi points in your direction. 
“Then stop looking at her,” Yunho said.
“You stop looking at her!” Mingi retorted.
The banter continued a little while longer, and with the warmth from the quilt and a full stomach, Mingi began to feel his body sag. You listened as your gang members all laughed to themselves and teased your two hostages. You shook your head, not allowing them to know that they amused you.
When you approached Hongjoong and Seonghwa, you motioned them to dismount their horses for a moment. The rest of the men listened and stayed out of your sight as you moved towards the cart where the hostages were waiting.
"I hate to admit it, but our little hostages are surprisingly nice people," Seonghwa hummed thoughtfully, ignoring the angry glare sent by Yunho, and Mingi's nervous glances. Seonghwa was fairly intimidating, with his shaggy hair and sharp gaze. "The big one could have shot us when he had the chance."
"Sure," You agreed. "I feel a little bad but teasing them has been so fun."
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Mingi frowned as he had been contemplating everything that had been going on for the last day. They had not been beaten, nor were the hostages harassed beyond teasing. It was weirdly entertaining to find out that he and Yunho were seen as oddities because they didn't fight back. He thought at the beginning of how Yunho got them in this mess.
Yunho didn't have to flirt with the pretty woman he saw on the train. They could have been in another compartment and be far away from this woman and her insane, outlaw group. Why of all things did Jeong Yunho just have to stare at the pretty, petite young woman? 
Okay, sure Mingi thought she was just another passenger, maybe on her way west to visit family or something like that. Yet there she was, dressed to impress and there were whispers from fellow passengers when she got on. Even he could see the glimmer in his partner's eyes and hear the small comments that came out when Yunho first laid eyes on her. She was a beauty in anyone's books. Mingi and Yunho had a soft spot for dames and never considered that would be their downfall.
Yunho should have never caught her gaze and then before they knew it the dame came sitting across them. He kept the conversations light and easy between them three, and Mingi found himself taken along for the ride as they sat through hours of the same scenery, yet felt the journey go by just a bit faster thanks to a pretty gal like her being part of the equation.
When the sun started to set, that's when everything turned a bit south. There were six outlaws that pulled their horses over to the rail cars, their hats worn down and their faces shadowed from view by the shadows of their broad brimmed Stetson hats and the darkness setting around the group. Their movements were swift, pulling out guns that seemed to be as natural for them as breathing.
"Toss those weapons in here and stay inside ladies and gentlemen," said one man in the group, whose lips curled back into a crooked smirk.
"Miss, please stay in the compartment," Yunho assured the pretty lady. "You don't want to deal with the likes of these types of people."
You watch quietly, sitting in your seat without worry. The gunslingers came their way and took any weapons the other travelers had. When they got close, the two men's hands moved towards their belts in an instant.
"Leave the pretty lady alone or we'll have problems," Yunho stepped closer, pointing his pistol towards the gunslingers, though his finger hovered over the trigger, his movement unsure.
You glared at him with the iciest tone either man had heard in their lives. "Who are you calling a pretty lady?"
Your hand came around his gun, quickly prying it away, before yanking Yunho forward by the neckerchief that rested against his neck.
"H-hey!" Mingi saw her slam her head straight into the tallest man, bringing him to his knees.
"Thanks for the compliment, boys," you smirked, training the gun in his face. "But you'll find that I'm no dame or damsel in need of saving."
Yunho clutched his forehead, his brain running in circles as the two cowboys behind him jeered and poked fun at him. His expression dropped once his mind started working again and the pain subsided.
You turned to the outlaws. "Tie 'em up boys."
And now they were here sitting in front of the fire pit with outlaws watching their every move. Seonghwa stood beside the cooking fire, watching a bubbling stew boil. Wooyoung was still near them and just watching his surroundings.
“Here,” Mingi looked up when you handed him a bowl of stew. After that fiasco of a train heist, Mingi couldn't help but stare appreciatively at your figure. You no longer wore the dress from the train but instead wore a pair of britches that hugged your legs in just the right place. Mingi sighed, cursing the way his thoughts got out of hand. "Thanks..."
Yunho gladly took a bowl as well. And almost immediately he could taste a pinch of spices, he sniffed deeply. The stew was basic and yet it was the most flavorful one he's had for a long while. It was nice for them to take care of their hostages instead of starving them. They have plenty, and yet they were willing to share a meal.
After a long day, the stars were clear in the sky. The waning moon cast its glow on the land as the horses whinnied, happily feeding and drinking out of the troughs the outlaws left behind. Everyone had found their bedding areas, not too far away from their fire pits that now had hot coals in place and wood pieces above them to keep everyone warm.
While Yunho watched the flames dance, his thoughts wandered, mainly focused on his partner, and their trip. How did it come to this, he wondered. The two had a goal of starting a store of sorts, far away from the overbearing presence of families. For once, he wished for his old life. The one where he didn't worry about being held hostage, and Mingi wouldn't stare at him while he contemplated his decisions.
"If you look at me like that," Yunho began. "It feels like you are judging me for how stupid I was earlier."
He can't look at his friend right now. If he did, there is no telling whether Mingi is still mad, or still annoyed by the turn of events. Yet, Mingi's laughter surprised him. "Oh, I was definitely judging. I can't believe you got cocky around a woman and let her get the jump on us."
"Sorry," he laughed.
"All jokes aside..." Mingi placed a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder. "She is definitely a very different kind of woman."
A quiet settled upon the two friends. The crackling fire did little to calm Yunho's racing thoughts as the heat filled the cool evening air. In the distance, Yunho watched as you patted your horse, murmuring and comforting the large animal. A quiet, loving gesture shared with your animal companion, that the horse returned in the form of nuzzling its snout close to your neck and an affectionate lick from their tongue. The sight brought a smile to Yunho's lips as you let out a giggle, brushing your hand through the horses' mane. It was a peaceful display of affection, and his heart calmed a touch.
When you made it back into the clearing, he averted his gaze as you approached.
"It is getting late," your voice startled both of the men, their bodies immediately stiff. "Try to get some sleep like the rest of the guys. We leave at dawn. Don't try to escape or you'll get a shot to the leg, so stay put."
"Okay..." Mingi agreed.
"Hey, before you leave," Yunho paused. "We didn't catch your name earlier. Is it alright if we can get it?"
Your response was curt, as you eyed Yunho and Mingi carefully. "Y/N."
Yunho watches you turn and move away from him, towards one of the bedrolls that seemed to be set up for you, laying your weapon close by and then proceeding to climb in, rolling your body until the blanket covered your figure. A soft sigh leaves your lips before you lay on your back. Your eyes are closed and he wonders briefly what you could be dreaming about before deciding to take his mind off such things.
"A lady that can shoot a man, can't beat around the bushes, and a looker to boot..." Mingi said the words slowly, as if trying to digest the fact. "Who would've thought?"
Yunho thinks back on his experiences with women, from the social butterflies at parties to the women who had gone starry eyed and then fallen to their knees in front of him, pleading. But you were different. You weren't a proper lady or a demure creature that existed to keep the men's hearts aflutter and their imaginations afire, which wasn't uncommon.
If he's honest, he much prefers your company. While he is a gentleman to the core, he doesn't know what exactly he likes best about you. Yunho ponders a bit more. He considers a lot of things before his friend elbows him and his attention shifts back to the real world.
"She's something, alright. One hell of a woman, is all," he responded quietly. He's also very much attracted to you and he'd love nothing more than to charm you. That would definitely take the cake for the grandest adventure of them all.
Mingi sighs.
Both the men hunker down in their spots, curling together for warmth as the cool mountain air blows through. The scent of grass and fresh air blows past their noses as they doze off to sleep.
It's been an awfully long day.
After all, everyone was snoring the night away.
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When Mingi stirs awake, there's a good number of the gang up and preparing to get moving. Breakfast is hot, and with a sweet note, the outlaws treat their two hostages with kindness. After all, you had warned everyone before you went to sleep the previous night: anyone who threatened either hostage would find themselves in hot water. And you weren't kidding when you meant it.
You saddled the horses and each rider got ready. Yunho and Mingi were settled in the wagon as the riders surrounded the cart. Today was another long trip, but you can see the excitement in their eyes, especially the hostages who seemed curious and wondering when the ride would finally come to an end.
"You got a destination in mind?" Yunho calls out suddenly. He doesn't know why he decides to break the silence, but your face says it all when he sees you look at him and roll your eyes.
"Now why would I tell you that?" You snorted. "After all, there would be no real reason for either of you to know where we're heading."
"If we're just baggage, then I don't see the point of you hiding the fact," Mingi shrugged. "We'll find out once the days out."
"There's the next town westward where I'm planning on getting to sooner than later. Besides, what kind of bandits would we be if we revealed our hideouts?" You explain, keeping a watchful eye.
Mingi shrugs and makes an innocent expression. "No idea. You'd have to be real dumb for that. Guess not."
"Just hush up and behave. You two won't get hurt so long as we move along," you keep the wagon moving and ignore the quips and questions they throw.
Once at the gates of the town, a couple of the bandits lead the way. Wooyoung, San, Jongho, and Yeosang line up along the streets as the few people in town waved at you.
"Y/N! You're back!"
"Yay! They're back!"
Children giggled and waved their hands with happy smiles on their lips as they jumped. "Hello!"
You laugh softly when a couple of small children rush up to see their uncles. Each member happily interacts and takes the time to see the small children that had grown since the last time you all were in this part. You smile and pat the children on the back as you watch everyone settle into town.
"For an outlaw, she seems very loved by the townsfolk and children," Mingi muttered to Yunho.
Hongjoong hears this and raises an eyebrow. "She's not as bad as you two think."
"He's right, we don't follow her because she threatens our families. None of us are family here," Seonghwa cuts in, pointing at the men, women, and children around him and back in your direction. "These people...they are family. This is home. She takes care of them, protects them."
Yunho purses his lips, waiting for more, but Hongjoong continues, "Before all this, we had no place to call home. Y/N took us in, helped all of us find somewhere we could belong. Even if we wanted to leave, she wouldn't force us to stay, we'd be allowed to go. She won't shoot you and leave you out to die. But we're a family."
Jongho sighed, watching a small child giggling at you as she clung to your leg, "As an orphan, and someone who grew up without a family, seeing a home and a family like this? It gives me a reason for hope in a world full of strife and destruction, but when you meet a person like her..."
Yeosang hummed in agreement. "A woman that has such a strong love for children, and looks out for them as if they were her own? That alone is precious. But even then...that's not the main reason we follow her."
San nodded. "Sure she robs trains and banks...but all that money and gold she steals? It's not for her own use. She's done nothing for herself and gave us a new start in life."
Wooyoung lets out a sigh. "It's for these people. It's the children...we protect them because they have no one. For the women whose men go off and die on a battlefield, they have a way to live. For the men who can't work, can't find jobs and are struggling...for the elders whose children no longer can provide for them, or the people who have no one? They're everything."
"Y/N is a good woman," Seonghwa smiled. "We wouldn't leave her, just as she would never leave us either."
Mingi and Yunho exchanged a look as they turned to you. This revelation had surprised them and both decided to wait and see, for if what they heard is true, perhaps they had judged you a bit too rashly.
A child ran towards the wagon and peered up at them before looking at Wooyoung. "Who are they, Uncle Woo?"
"These guys are Yunho and Mingi, little ones," you came up, stroking the kids' head gently and the child cooed with joy.
"They look funny," another added as Mingi grinned at the kid. Yunho simply chuckled in amusement.
A few children crowded the wagon, wanting to see the strangers. You put them at ease, saying a few friendly words. Mingi reached forward to tickle one.
"He's pretty," one of the little girls pointed at Mingi and giggled.
You couldn't help but laugh. "He is, isn't he?"
One of the boys looked up at Yunho. "He's like a giant, Y/N!"
A second boy clapped. "Giant man!"
You smile widely. "Don't be so mean now. Come on, everyone."
The children jump and dance as they walk after you, chanting the phrase and a group of men soon join them. It was a rather humorous thing, having kids chanting 'giant man', to see Yunho so embarrassed. Mingi held a big smile as you listened to the children.
“Where did you pick them up?” a child asked curiously.
“Is one of them going to be your husband, Y/N?” a child asked innocently.
“No!” another child declared, “I think they're going to be like the other uncles!”
The children are merciless and relentless. Their teasing was making you laugh out loud and in return, that brought a blush to Mingi and Yunho's cheeks. A couple of kids gathered near Wooyoung. He glanced down before smiling.
"They really like their uncles," Mingi pointed.
Yunho smiled as he leaned back. "Look at that smile."
The outlaws were taken away with all the people and their families, greeting them with waves and smiles as a celebration appeared to be prepared for the whole afternoon and evening. You looked over to your hostages as a grin overtook your lips. "How would you fellas feel about enjoying a drink with me? You both could join the fun while we get ourselves set."
"Well we've come all this way..." Mingi murmured before a smirk found its way to his lips. "Why not enjoy ourselves a bit?"
Yunho nodded along, smiling in turn as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I had a good time."
You patted their shoulder, steering the two to a building. "Then, follow me."
Entering a saloon, Mingi and Yunho glanced around, eyeing the decorum that was inside the room. There are a couple of rooms and a stage that sat at the side of the establishment, a long bar at the opposite side, and in between, there is a seating area where some people sat. The two friends sit down with you at the bar.
A middle aged gentleman who happens to be the owner of the bar sees you and greets you in kind, happy that you came with guests.
"Goodness, and who are the two tall men accompanying you, Y/N?" His gentle eyes are wide, but not in a judgmental way, he seems quite pleasant.
You gesture your hand at the two gentlemen behind you. "This here's Mingi and Yunho, we've run into a bit of a...situation on the road. Decided to bring them in."
The older man hummed and tapped his finger on his cheek, grinning. "Ah, I understand."
Yunho decided to jump into the conversation. "You're very close with the townsfolk."
"Close may be one way to put it," you sigh. "Though...in reality, they're family."
“Family…?” Yunho asked, confused.
“That’s right,” you said. “These folks don’t have much to their name. And if it means using the money from robbing a few trains and banks? To ensure everyone is fed, clothed, and to take care of their loved one’s funerals or needs if it’s too late, it’s worth the price of jail or hanging for the consequences,” you finished firmly.
"Y/N here funded the saloon with business owners when they moved into town, helped the farmstead with the seedlings and labor," the older gentleman added as he cleaned a mug with a cloth. "Even has a doctor working for the people."
Yunho raised a brow, staring at the wooden surface of the bar top in front of him, deep in thought. When his attention shifts to you, he opens his mouth, hoping the question will do well. "I want to understand...so how does this work? No sheriff in sight, people all living this comfortably?"
The old man shakes his head. "No, there's no law man to protect us here...but Y/N and her gang have. We all know that she comes from good money and she could have looked the other way. But she didn't. We're like an oasis for all these folks."
"So they know you're an outlaw?" Yunho asks you.
"What about other cowboys that bother this town?" Mingi wonders.
The bar keeper smiles as he pours you, Mingi, and Yunho a pint of liquor.
"Mostly the town does have good relationships with all the ranchers and cattlemen here," the bartender states. "Of course, we've also met with the wrong people, but there is a small ranch that we've reached a deal with to handle such people should they happen."
You raise your glass towards the man and take a deep breath, exhaling the tension away. "Everyone here knows what I am and don't worry about any other issues coming here. The neighboring ranches tend to mind themselves, but most are on friendly terms with the town so it makes life pretty peaceful."
"Well that's certainly something," Mingi sniffs the mug that had been placed in his hands and shrugs his shoulders. He figured it wouldn't hurt and brought the drink to his lips. "And it's hard to not see why the people adore you. You and your gang are really good people. Never would have pegged you for a villain in a story."
"Did you think I was a villain?" You gave him an amused smile.
"Yeah, kind of. What do you expect? It's not every day that a group of train robbers shows up, scaring the bejesus out of a man like myself, and bringing me, another poor soul into whatever life altering plan they might have, let alone bringing us back to a home full of people, children, and the elderly," Mingi offered, sarcasm heavily dripped in his voice. He rolls his eyes for added measure. "The imagination runs wild in times of panic."
Yunho furrowed his eyebrows. "Well, in our defense, a group of strangers showing up, guns out and all, then ropes our arms up and threatens to kill us should we move the wrong way, does tend to rattle the bones."
"But you're the one who flirted with me, big boy. Should we rehash the details of that whole conversation?" you grinned at him and raised a brow in his direction, wanting a good reaction.
Yunho looked up to the ceiling, gulping the last of his beverage with ease, a handsome blush crossed his features.
You'd always taken to a bit of flirtatious ways, not very reserved, but charming nonetheless. Seeing this rugged and handsome man flush with color from simple flattery, only egged you on further to see what other emotions you could muster from the beautiful and curious man. You had to admit Yunho was more your type of man but Mingi certainly had a very nice personality.
Both were rather attractive in your book.
Mingi pokes fun at Yunho before clearing his throat and nudging him with his elbow. His partner swats him on the arm before turning his attention back to you. "Perhaps another drink would put me at ease."
"In my company, I wouldn't mind at all. It would be an absolute delight," you simper.
The bartender nods and makes two more pints. Once they were placed on the counter, the man gestures a nod in Mingi and Yunho's direction. The two drink once the mugs are near their lips.
"Alright, you lot had me wrong, that was rude on my part," Mingi spoke before raising his mug, signaling his admission of apology. "There are a good lot here."
The older man and you take a drink in solidarity with him.
Yunho shares a genuine smile. "Well, thank you for the peace of mind that we have in our lives for now. Maybe...things could work."
You grin back. "Well, I'm glad to have both of your understanding."
"Is everyone ready for dinner?" Hongjoong shouts, breaking the three's conversation and the crowd cheered in return.
Children scamper away and adults gather outside for dinner. A few people were cooking in front of the bonfire outside the establishment, the women prepared the food as the rest of the gang sat with you.
"Yay, uncle Mingi and uncle Yunho will be able to join us today!" The little girl from earlier happily declared their presence and both men gave her soft smiles.
"Look, she's already calling you uncle." You pointed out.
"Come here, little missy," Mingi knelt down, beckoning the girl over.
You couldn't help the little hiccup in your chest when she came bounding over happily. Her soft plush face had a pink hue across her cheeks and she held a soft look. She really was cute as can be and even though the man before you was the opposite in height and temperament, the sight had you falling fast.
She sat on his lap and leaned back, resting against his large torso as they watched the sky start to brighten up with more orange streaks than red and pink hues. She whispers something in his ear and you couldn't help but see Mingi's cheeks redden. The child leans up to whisper in Yunho's ear and asks him most likely the same question since his cheeks flushed after listening to her as well. You watched as she ran away to throw herself in Yeosang's lap as he played and made faces to make her giggle.
"Well, what did she ask you?" You asked after sitting on the porch between them.
Yunho and Mingi fumbled a bit as they glanced at one another before Yunho began, "Missy wanted to know when we were going to marry you."
You blinked rapidly, caught off guard by the straightforward nature of the question. Mingi couldn't help but look up towards the sky.
Your jaw dropped at the bold question and you tilted your head to the side with interest. "Oh yeah? What did you tell her?"
They glance between one another before Mingi pipes up, "Told her we'd probably marry if you were down to have an arrangement. Not that she needed to know that last part."
The atmosphere changes with the different shades of lights. More reds and darker pinks painted the skies, bright and vivid, mixing to a light orange and gold color that brings a sense of peaceful tranquility to everyone.
You smiled at their answer and laughed at Mingi's last sentence. "Probably be married huh? It's been years since I've thought of marriage. Ever since I ran away."
"What's stopping you?" Yunho asked with a mischievous lilt, clearly feeling himself under your influence of mirth. "There's no real reason not to get married if you and another fancy it."
You purse your lips in thought, playing with the brim of your cowboy hat. "Who would want someone like me? As a bandit, my days are always in danger."
"We might," the taller man spoke without any sort of shame.
“Excuse me?” you scoffed. “Honey, you both couldn't keep up with me, that's no way to start a marriage.”
"Didn't mean to brag but...I'm no weak man," Yunho smirked and leaned close, resting an elbow on his knee.
Your own smile tugged up as a breeze blows past the three of you and ruffles your hair. You reach forward and rest your hand against Yunho's arm and smile softly. "Is that right? Because I like to ride long and hard at night."
Mingi stared wide-eyed at the double meaning while you fluttered your eyelashes.
Yunho sits up with a broad smirk, his smile teasing and gentle in a way he didn't want to stop, enjoying himself, letting himself unravel before your gaze as you invited him in. "Oh darlin'...I wouldn't mind seeing that."
A full grin appears on your face. You stand up slowly, bending towards Yunho with your chin lifted in pride. You meet his eyes, watching with awe when his attention travels across your facial features. A rush of delight flooded your senses with the feel of his heavy, loving gaze on you.
Yunho let his smile grow a touch wild as you ran a hand over his cheek gently before tugging his face by his chin, a silent command to listen closely. Mingi stares, enamored by the atmosphere. "I ride slow, darling, slow and steady. Feeling everything at a pleasant pace."
With an inhale, Yunho leaned further, a fire kindled in his heart with no intention of taming. Just as he did, Mingi leaned his head in your direction, his hand brushing the loose strand away from your eyes and to your ear. He gently tucked it behind and kept his fingers over your skin, warm and soft under his caress.
The sensuality of the moment lulls. Mingi and you stare at each other, observing the hunger brewing within your shared gaze and you press a hand over his lips to signal his end, waiting until you receive an answer from your last statement to Yunho. The large cowboy took a deep breath in and brought his cheek to the back of your fingers, placing a tender kiss to your skin before pulling back to observe.
With a playful nip to your fingertips, Yunho mumbled, his low, velvety tenor caused heat to pool in your stomach. "I hear what you're saying, sweetheart."
The brush of a finger to the back of your neck and you can see how Mingi was looking at you, the shine to his brown eyes reflecting the gold and orange lights as you stare and drop your hand back down to your side. Your hand naturally presses along Yunho's shoulder and takes hold of Mingi's sleeve with a subtle tug that beckons their closeness.
"Shame," you mutter as you grip their collars to pull the pair towards the entrance to the saloon.
Mingi leaned to your side with his face pressed against your ear. The heat and deep voice sent a shiver down your body. You can feel the way the gentle weight of Yunho's chest pressed against yours when he whispered, "Don't you want to see where the three of us can lead to?"
You let out a small laugh, your hand cupping his cheek. "Not tonight boys, not just yet."
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You watched as Yunho and Mingi happily played with the children, sharing stories from back home, telling tall tales, and entertaining the small community of misfits. Their infectious and open nature charmed all those around. It brought a sense of whimsical air that you didn't have a chance to breathe often, to just allow yourself a moment to relish in the simplicity of laughter and peace.
It was soothing.
"They seem to be fitting in well," Seonghwa offered his greeting after walking towards where you stood on the porch to the saloon. "The children seem to love them. And the adults too. I'd say it's because they bring new energy and energy for such folks is much appreciated."
"New stories. New tales," you added.
"Oh? Have you taken a liking to the hostages?" Hongjoong chuckles as he hands the two of you a mug with drink. He knows exactly the situation as it played out. He doesn't have anything but fondness in his eyes, seeing how fond you've become with the two of them and you shrugged.
"Maybe. Maybe they'll leave someday and I'll just miss the company of a handsome fellow. You can never have enough," you muse out loud. Hongjoong let his brow rise at you but couldn't hold back a teasing grin. He bumped shoulders, earning a hum of contemplation.
"Look, you know damn well you're the boss and none of us would stand between you and whatever makes you happy," Seonghwa answers. "But two businessmen? Y/N, they're from well-respected families and I'm sure men like them would want well-respected ladies."
"I know, Hwa," you huffed. "But I used to be one of those well-respected ladies. And you both were once those well-respectable gentlemen. Things change."
"Do you miss home, Y/N?" Seonghwa's question cut straight to the bone, digging into your chest in a way you hadn't considered. He notices it and so does Hongjoong who tried his best to let you come to a resolution yourself.
"No," you muttered, eyes never leaving the town, the lively noises, and the scent of cooked meat and sweets filling the atmosphere. "This is our home. These people need us and we wouldn't ever abandon them."
Hongjoong gulped down his mug, set it down, and leaned on the post, staring into the sky before continuing his line of thought. "Y/N. No matter who we are, and who they were...I know neither of us can go back and none of us should ever try and go back. We can only live right now. So, does it really matter? You've been with other cowboys before...surely rich boys aren't much of a different kind of challenge."
Seonghwa rolled his eyes. "I just don't want you getting hurt."
"It'll take a lot to hurt me, Hwa," you smiled at him. "But thank you for looking out for me."
Yunho and Mingi gaze in your direction and share a curious expression. One with a pink hue adorning the apples of his cheeks and the other with a hand scratching the back of his neck. They notice the stares directed towards them and share a shy, tiny smile with one another.
"But maybe this time, I don't mind taking a risk or two," you added as a sigh, a tiny sigh slipped past your lips, accompanied by a rosy pink that tinted your cheekbones. The edges of your lips curved up in the slightest to form a small and amused smile at the two.
"Taking a risk, huh?" Hongjoong mused, following your gaze to Yunho and Mingi. "Well, can't say I blame you. They do seem like decent fellas."
You hummed in agreement, watching as Yunho lifted a small boy onto his shoulders while Mingi dramatically acted out a story for the other children. Their laughter rang out across the town square.
"Decent indeed," you murmured. 
As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over the town, you found yourself drawn to where Yunho and Mingi were still entertaining the children. Their infectious laughter and easy smiles had captivated not just the little ones, but many of the adults as well. 
You approached just as Mingi was wrapping up an elaborate tale, complete with exaggerated gestures that had the kids in stitches. Yunho caught your eye and gave you a warm smile that made your heart skip a beat.
"Alright kiddos, I think it's about time we let these fine gentlemen get some rest," you announced, chuckling at the chorus of disappointed groans. 
"But Y/N, can't they stay up a little longer?" one of the young girls pleaded, tugging on your sleeve.
"Now, now, don't you worry. I'm sure Mr. Yunho and Mr. Mingi will be happy to tell you more stories tomorrow," you said, ruffling the little girl's hair affectionately. "But for now, it's time for bed."
With a few more grumbles and pouts, the children reluctantly said their goodnights and scampered off to their homes. You turned to Yunho and Mingi, who were both looking a bit worn out but still smiling.
"You two certainly have a way with kids," you remarked. "I haven't seen them this excited in ages."
Yunho chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "They're great kids. Reminds me of home a bit."
"Got some little ones waiting for you back East?" you asked, trying to keep your tone casual.
"Oh no," Yunho clarified quickly. "Just some younger cousins and neighbors' kids I used to look after sometimes. No little ones of my own."
You felt a small sense of relief at that, though you tried not to examine why too closely. "What about you, Mingi? Any family waiting on you?"
Mingi shook his head. "Nah, it's just been me and Yunho for a while now. We came out West to start fresh, make our own way."
"And instead you got kidnapped by a gang of outlaws," you said with a wry smile. "Not quite the fresh start you were hoping for, I imagine."
Yunho and Mingi exchanged a look, then Yunho spoke up. "You know, it hasn't been all bad. This place, these people... it's not what we expected, but there's something special here," Yunho said thoughtfully. "I can see why you care for them so much."
You felt a warmth bloom in your chest at his words. "They're good people who've been dealt a tough hand. They deserve better than what this world's given them."
"And you've made it your mission to provide that," Mingi observed. "It's admirable, really."
You shrugged, feeling a bit self-conscious under their earnest gazes. "I do what I can. It's not always pretty or legal, but..."
"But it's necessary," Yunho finished for you. "We get it. Or at least, we're starting to."
A comfortable silence fell between the three of you as you watched the last rays of sunlight fade from the sky. You looked at them curiously. “How was your first night sleeping in town? The rooms above the saloon, okay?”
Mingi nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "It was comfortable, thank you. Certainly beats sleeping on the hard ground or in the back of a wagon."
"Though I must admit, I did miss the stars," Yunho added with a chuckle. "There's something about sleeping under that big open sky that's hard to beat."
You couldn't help but smile at that. "I know what you mean. Even after all this time, I still prefer a bedroll under the stars to a proper bed most nights."
"Is that why you're out here instead of tucked away at your house?" Mingi asked, his tone teasing but his eyes warm.
You shrugged, feeling a bit exposed under their gazes. "Old habits die hard, I suppose. Plus, someone's got to keep an eye on things."
"Always the protector," Yunho murmured, his voice soft with admiration.
You felt a flush creep up your neck at his words and the intensity of his gaze. Clearing your throat, you gestured towards the saloon. "Well, it's getting late. We should probably turn in for the night."
As you started to walk away, Mingi called out, "Y/N, wait."
You turned back, raising an eyebrow questioningly. 
Mingi and Yunho exchanged a look before Mingi continued, "We've been talking, and... well, we were wondering if maybe we could stick around for a while. Help out around town, you know?"
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you kept your expression neutral. "Oh? And what brought this on? I thought you two were eager to start your new lives out West."
Yunho stepped forward, his expression earnest. "We were, but...this place, these people. It's opened our eyes to something we didn't expect to find out here. There's real community here, real purpose. And if we can help in some small way, well, that seems like a better use of our time than chasing after some vague dream of striking it rich."
You studied them both carefully, searching for any sign of deception. But all you saw was sincerity in their eyes. Still, you couldn't help but be cautious. "And what about your families back East? Your old lives? You'd be giving up a lot to throw your lot in with a bunch of outlaws."
Mingi shrugged, a wry smile on his face. "To be honest, there wasn't much holding us there anyway. That's why we came West in the first place. To find something more."
You studied them carefully, taking in their earnest expressions. Part of you wanted to believe them, to welcome them into the fold without hesitation. But years of living on the edge had taught you to be cautious, especially when it came to matters of the heart.
"And you think you've found that 'something more' here?" you asked, keeping your tone neutral. "With a gang of outlaws and a town full of misfits?"
Yunho's eyes softened as he gazed at you. "We've found more here in a few days than we did in years back East. There's a real sense of purpose, of family. It may not be conventional, but it feels right."
Mingi nodded in agreement. "Plus," he added with a playful smirk, "the company's not bad either."
You felt a blush creep up your neck at his words, but you pushed it down, maintaining your composure. "Well, I appreciate the sentiment, boys. But this isn't an easy life. It's dangerous, unpredictable. Are you sure you're ready for that?"
Yunho stepped closer, his eyes locked on yours. "You left the life of comfort, the life of a respected lady to be an outlaw. Surely there must've been moments where you didn't want this life, times where you were scared. But you didn't allow it to get in your way."
Mingi puffed his chest confidently and grinned. "If you could leave that life, then we can too."
"You're right," you said softly, meeting Yunho's intense gaze. "I did leave that life behind. And it wasn't easy. But I've never regretted it, not for a moment."
You paused, looking between Yunho and Mingi. Their earnest expressions tugged at something deep in your chest. 
"This life... it's not for everyone," you continued. "It's hard, and dangerous, and there are days when I wonder if I'm doing the right thing. But then I look at these people, this town we've built together and I know it's worth it."
Yunho stepped forward, his eyes shining with determination. "We want to be part of that. We want to help, in whatever way we can."
Mingi scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, "I'm not as strong as you or the rest of your gang. I wouldn't survive as an outlaw. But I could use my skills as a businessman to help this town."
"And I, at the very least, know how to shoot," Yunho added with a determined tone to his voice. "So I can help protect the town when you and your gang aren't here."
You studied them both carefully, weighing their words against your own instincts. Finally, you nodded slowly.
"Okay," you said softly. "But if you're going to stay here, if you're going to become part of this life, I need your word. You'll put the needs of this community ahead of your own. You'll lay your life on the line to protect it, to protect the people who call it home."
Yunho stepped forward, his hand brushing against yours, a spark shooting up your arm at the touch. "I swear. Mingi and I, we've been looking for this place, this feeling... and we aren't letting it slip away."
Mingi licks his lips and looks up with wide, sincere eyes. "I swear as well. I'll protect this town with my last breath if I have to."
His sincerity surprises you. You stand tall and let them come a few steps closer before you move again. This time, you choose to face them and hold their attention. Mingi and Yunho both take deep breaths and widen their gaze as you slowly grab their wrist to check their pulses. The pound and heat rising off them surprises you a little. You smile at them in assurance as you reach to them again to brush a touch over each of their chests. It's hard not to feel the rise and fall as they take slow, deep breaths. "Welcome home."
"Thank you," Yunho says softly.
"I'll let the others know our guests have decided to settle in," you said, noting how the heat from their skin remains long after you move. "You both obviously need a permanent place to stay...unless..."
The slight inflection, the bit of heat in your voice, causes their pupils to dilate a bit.
"Yes?" Mingi murmurs.
"Unless...you'd be open to living with me?" Your heart is hammering. You've been so used to a rough kind of touch that anything a bit soft makes you almost...relaxed.
"Live," Yunho starts. "...with you?"
You can't hold their gaze anymore, eyes shyly trailing off as you laugh to ease the situation. It sounds breathy and unsure, like your body is too full of excitement to allow any of your normal confidence out.
"I mean if not, no big deal!" You assured, letting go of their arms and backing away to create space between you. "If you're happy with a room at the saloo‒"
"No!" Mingi grabs at your wrist, not roughly or meanly, but firmly enough that it gives your stomach a light flutter. His eyes are wide. "I don't. I'm not happy with the room. I like... I like what's on offer here."
You lick your dry bottom lip. "...Yeah?"
He's blushing. Blushing for you. For the first time, his gaze drifts down your front and back to your face. "...yeah. I'm more interested in the lady giving the offer, anyhow."
"Thank you, pretty boy," you manage a low rumble of a chuckle before turning to Yunho. "And you? What do you think, big boy?"
Yunho holds your gaze for a long moment, his dark eyes studying you carefully. He's silent for so long that you start to think he's not going to respond, when suddenly, a smile breaks across his face, warm and genuine and absolutely captivating.
"Yeah," he murmurs softly. "I'd be open to sharing that sort of life with you."
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The months began to pass slowly. At times it seemed endless but Hongjoong said that winter would surely roll around soon. At least, you hoped it would. Living in a desert was brutal and hard. But you and your gang made sure to stock up the necessities for the townsfolk in case they were to suffer a shortage. You didn't want anybody dying or suffering at the hand of a lack of resources. Not on your watch.
After striking another deal with the ranchers and the cattlemen to help feed the people in exchange for protection, you'd successfully purchased several extra wagons with livestock, food and medicine. In return, the merchants of the town helped repair damaged furniture or clothing from the group. Some made trinkets and food out of the donations from others in the nearby city.
Yunho sat on the steps of the general store while you stood by his side. It had been a particularly busy week getting the money. You'd raided an abandoned train car with bags full of bills and cash that prior bandits left behind. Most of the money was safe and stored up in the old mine, along with other valuables. You knew you were playing a dangerous game, but it was worth it for those in need.
The more the town gained, the less they had to live from day to day. There were more houses being built and trade routes coming in to make the town richer in one way or another. It wasn't perfect but it was a step in the right direction. You'd done the impossible. You'd changed lives.
"You think we should go good at some point?" Yunho asked, rolling the brim of his hat back. "Become some lawmen for our people?"
"Maybe," you mused. "If that's what they need from us. Then yes, maybe we should give it a try."
He hummed. "Imagine if you and the others turned good."
"Hey, the guys would make excellent sheriffs and deputies," you nudged his shoulder with your arm as he laughed.
Mingi emerged from the building to join you two, taking his hat off and waving it to get the sweat off his brow. "Hotter than blazes."
"Stay cool, pretty boy," you patted his cheek. "Don't need you burning up."
"Too late," he countered. "I've been burning from you this whole time."
You snort. "Keep that talk for the bedroom, cowboy."
His smile stretched wider. "Deal."
As time passed, your relationships changed. While nothing official was announced, the whole town seemed to understand what was happening as Yunho and Mingi started to live with you in your homestead. They'd ask about the supplies, what the people needed, and they'd help bring in shipments whenever they could. They both quickly made friends among the townsfolk, and were eager to prove their worth. It made you feel a swell of pride and love to see them fitting in, belonging. They felt a sense of community and it was obvious in the way they held themselves, their posture loosened. The rigidity in their expressions became relaxed and they didn't have to glance at the exits to ensure an exit route. 
This was their home.
Both boys kept your bed nice and warm every night, and spent most days working in the fields, repairing buildings, fixing and patching clothes. Mingi was more adept with numbers and working out trade, Yunho was more in the line of law and justice.
Mingi would write a letter here and there to their extended families back east. Their families seemed thrilled they finally found stability in such a remote area, having lived an extravagant life before and leaving for the opportunity. They hadn't told them the truth, so they hadn't told them you were wanted, dangerous criminals. In their words, you were a town hero and were settling down from your rowdy youth. Which, from what you understood, wasn't too far off the truth, so you just played along. You tried to focus on the positives in life, not the negatives. It was healthy that way.
"What are you thinking about, love?" Yunho asked one night. His broad hands grabbed onto your thighs, gently pulling them apart.
Mingi rested on the pillow and bit his bottom lip as he watched you squirm at Yunho's soft teasing.
You swallow.
"Just...thinking," your face feels hot and you groan softly. "Keep...please..."
Yunho's large hands trailed along the inside of your bare thighs and goosebumps erupted along your skin. His fingers ran in lazy circles around the junction of where your thigh ended and where you really wanted him, tracing maddening paths closer, but not close enough. Your breath hitched as his fingers grazed the sensitive skin and a low, desperate whimper escaped.
Mingi shifted beside you, his large hand caressing the side of your head to watch the way you fell apart between them.
"Look at you," Yunho hums. "Aching for me. For us. Falling to pieces and I haven't even done anything yet."
You open your mouth to protest but it comes out as an undignified moan as his fingers make contact. Yunho chuckled and slipped the tip of a single finger past the tight, wet heat of your entrance, drawing another desperate sound from your lips as he pushed into you and gave you more.
“Think we can make you lose your mind, Y/N?” Yunho asked, a sly smirk playing on his lips.
You struggle to find an answer but all thought flees when another finger enters and scissors you open with a stretch. The way his thumb makes circles near your clit while he does it is agonizing.
You move your hips to get him deeper but he moves to keep the same pattern. Slow, soft strokes with his fingers, enough to drive you insane, and just far enough to deny your orgasm. It was hell, pure torture. Your legs quivered in effort, the build up within growing and growing.
"Y/N, can you be good for us and wait?" Mingi coos to your ear. "Let him enjoy you."
Yunho curls his fingers and begins a slow thrust into you. You're so turned on and desperate, it's almost embarrassing but fuck it, you love this. "So wet," Yunho hums to Mingi. "Just for us."
Mingi hums, hands coming to squeeze at your waist. "We love hearing your cute sounds," he rolls a nipple and presses kisses to your neck. "Let us hear you."
A whimper fell from your lips as your back arched, and you could see the way your stomach dipped at the action.
"I want to see you riding my fingers," Yunho says and grips at the underside of your ass, gently guiding your hips. "I know you've got a nice ass, let me see you use it."
"This isn't a good look for me," You shake your head a little bit, attempting to ignore the heat between your legs as Mingi trails kisses across your shoulder. "Like, not a good angle."
Mingi kissed you deeply, swallowing your moans as Yunho slowly guided you up and down onto his fingers and started a more feverish pace. The sounds were embarrassing. You whined, muffled into Mingi's mouth. He nipped at your lip and tongue, coaxing more from you as your hands clung to his hair.
"No one is here, love," Yunho mutters. "You can make all the pretty noises you want. It's just us here."
"Better hope no one...oh fuck, right there," you gasp.
They both grinned and Yunho stroked faster, your pants grew harder and more unhinged. You were desperate for more, legs quivering. He knew what he was doing with those long, pretty fingers of his, working into you and finding all the right places to drive you insane.
"So wet and ready," Yunho muttered, nipping your thigh and adding a third finger that had your mind swirling. "Do you feel good?"
"Yes!" You practically howled and gripped at Mingi. "Please..."
Mingi nuzzles your jaw and shushes you softly. "Tell him what you need, baby."
You rolled your hips to feel his fingers sink in deeper, each grind drawing out an embarrassing, desperate noise.
"So dirty, the way she's fucking herself," Mingi groans, low and hungry as he squeezes the curves of your waist.
Yunho spreads his fingers inside, opening you up, filling you with each thrust. His gaze is heated and full of dark amusement, taking in your writhing form.
You are so lost in the sensation, lost in the feeling of your blood flowing and moving with each steady thrust, but then he pulls out of you with a smirk and brings his fingers to his mouth with a long drag, licking his fingers clean.
"Can never let a meal go unfinished," he murmured and sank back on his elbows. "All of her." 
He nuzzled his nose against the sensitive skin of your cunt, letting the sensation send sparks up your body, before languidly licking at your folds, his tongue parting you. He moved your legs to rest on his shoulder, allowing better access, and went to work cleaning you. The sudden intensity made you yelp, and as his tongue lavished the folds you became even louder. He added his hands into play and spread you apart with two long fingers, sucking the juices leaking.
You almost feel bad when his face gets absolutely drenched when he really starts going to town, making filthy slurping and sucking sounds that drown out the squelch of his tongue sliding between you. When he closes his eyes in delight and growls with pleasure, you're amazed by how hard it all gets him.
He's literally making the filthiest sounds, getting your arousal and your pussy all over his mouth and jaw, and he loves every minute of it.
"That's so hot," Mingi groans, rubbing his cock. "Baby, can you suck me off while he eats you out? Pretty please?"
He doesn't have to beg much as you take his cock into your hands, pumping him a few times to hear the low groans he lets out. Leaning forward, you suck him deep. He slides down your throat to the base, gagging you. Mingi is just the right size that you can swallow him entirely to the base. His tip tickles the back of your throat and his thighs quiver with every long lick.
The moment his tip touches the back of your throat is the moment his thighs twitch, and you love it. It makes you hungrier.
The feel of his heavy dick, throbbing on your tongue is exhilarating. You never think you'll have enough of him, his thick length and the taste, god, the taste of him always has you wanting more. More.
Yunho can't get enough of the sounds and has a hand gripping the flesh of your hip with bruising pressure as he continues devouring your pussy, tasting every inch. You're squeezing his face with your legs, fucking into his mouth, and Mingi's hands are woven into the hair on the sides of your head and he's now thrusting up to fuck your throat as you go slack, and you could melt completely and be content forever right here between them.
Suddenly Mingi hisses out your name and fucks into the wet warmth of your mouth a few last times, until he can't hold back anymore. He makes a wrecked sound and holds the base of his cock as he's cumming in your mouth, hot and tangy spurts shooting down your throat. It's been a long week, and the sight and feel of him using you like his own personal little cum bucket is the best way to end it, and he moans out your name and sends a happy tingling spark of electricity down your spine. You'd live like this, choking on his cum if you could.
Once he's spent, Mingi helps your head up, his body glistening with sweat from the high, his stomach muscles clenching, and your legs shaking. Mingi has you look at him, taking the messy sheen around your lips and dragging his tongue up to lick into your mouth, cleaning you. It's a sloppy, wet, messy kiss that ends with your stomach tight with pleasure and your muscles aching, and Yunho still has his head between your legs and is making a mess and the most obscene, filthy, wet sounds. The sight of you and Mingi kissing turns him on something fierce, and suddenly, the need for his release overwhelms him.
"Fuck, baby. I need to be in you," Yunho sits upright and drags his mouth up along the underside of your calf, sinking his teeth into the plush of your calf muscles, leaving angry red bite marks in his wake.
"Please," is all you can manage. Your legs are burning from holding themselves apart for his assault, and he is so fucking good at everything he does.
Yunho wipes his glistening, pink stained mouth with a grin, "How do you want me?"
"O-on your back," your throat feels dry and rough.
Yunho licks the leftover taste of you, looking absolutely devious. "Oh? Got some ideas?"
You're already moving to sit atop his thighs, guiding his stiff length along the wet entrance and teasing your clit. He bites his bottom lip and lays back with an appreciative groan. You don't hesitate to take what you need from him, sinking down and pressing him all the way in. Both of you groan at the way his cock throbs and stretches you.
"Need to ride this big boy," you purred. You pressed your hands into his chest and started grinding yourself on him, slow and easy. "Oh fuck, it feels so good."
Mingi rubs his own length to hardness, biting his lower lip as you start a rhythmic movement. He swoops in and presses kisses all across your shoulder blades, muttering softly, his words swallowed by the creak of the bed and Yunho's little gasps, "Love you like this. Fucking yourself on his dick."
It's hot to watch, and it has the two of you swapping a lewd, messy kiss. Your pace is frantic, hands kneading at his toned stomach, desperate for purchase. Yunho grabs hold of your thighs, bouncing you along his thick length. The sounds that escape you are dirty. Wet noises fill the air as he fills you up repeatedly.
"I think Mingi wants to be in you too, love," Yunho's dark eyes glint, and he pants. His handsome face is sweaty, but he doesn't stop thrusting himself up, sinking deeper. "Wouldn't that be good?"
"Yes..." you moaned. You reached out and gripped your asscheeks, spreading yourself wider. "Want to feel you both."
Mingi felt up the soft curve of your ass, appreciating you. His touch trailed, callused hands along the path of your spine and back, gentle. You couldn't help the excited smile on your face as his touch roamed, eyes glowing with love.
Then, Yunho lifted his legs up and sat himself more properly on the bed to watch Mingi position himself. You stopped rolling your hips, waiting for him with baited breath.
Yunho bent his knees, holding you close to his chest so you could enjoy his heartbeat as Mingi began sliding himself in your puckered hole.
"Shit..." Mingi hissed between his teeth.
"Fuck, Mingi," you cursed and buried your face into Yunho's shoulder as he held you up easily by the thighs, angling himself as Mingi pushed all the way in with a shaky, labored breath. The both of you remained motionless, waiting to let your bodies adjust to being so impossibly full.
"Just breathe, sweetheart," Yunho's lips flutter to your shoulder with tenderness and he groans as you shift. The first little roll of his hips is so teasing it drives you mad. He slides slowly back and then fills you again, and then he's rocking up into you at a delicious pace, and it feels so good it's got you whimpering. Mingi matches Yunho's movements and sets the same pace, keeping up a delicious rhythm.
"So, so good. Good girl," Yunho whispers into your ear. His voice was guttural and rich, his breath hitting your hot skin and sending electric waves throughout your body. "Such a good girl taking both of us."
Both are filling you so nicely. Each thrust pushes the breath from your lungs, has you desperately seeking him out again. When they're fucking you like this, there is no reason in the world other than their cocks slamming into you over and over. It feels heavenly; the both of them inside you, together. They fuck you so deep and good it has you squirming, not caring about the way you're drooling and clenching around both lengths, enjoying the stretch. Your legs feel like jelly as their hands roam, playing and exploring, worshiping.
It feels like a blissful eternity filled with nothing but the feel of their skin against yours.
Mingi's tongue trails along the side of your neck, humming with affection and breathlessness. His hands clutch you tightly, possessive, while he's pounding up into you, fucking himself closer to completion. "Fuck, let's switch. My knees are...shit...going..."
Mingi is flipped onto the bed now and you're riding him, just as he had suggested earlier. A grin is etched on his lips, his expression one of lazy bliss as his thumbs caress the sides of your waist. "Ready?"
"Oh yes please," Yunho answers, raring to go. He enters slowly from behind, causing Mingi to grunt and cling to you tighter. "Damn, Mingi stretched you out nice and good baby. Love how she feels."
Your walls convulse and grip them, a loud cry spilling as Mingi moans at the feel of you and Yunho groans, clutching the soft flesh of your rear. Mingi leans back against the wooden headrest, allowing you to fall into him and grip his shoulders. You moan into his mouth, and the kisses become filthy. You're utterly trapped and full and loving the pressure.
They thrust in alternates. One pushes while the other pulls out, and soon you can barely differentiate between them. Just full and full and full. And then you're gasping and moaning and practically fucking screaming their names, not caring in the slightest about the world around you.
"You okay, baby?" Mingi presses kisses against your hairline, fingers smoothing away the droplets of sweat gathering at the nape of your neck. "You can take a break."
"Never...no...no breaks," you gasp out. "Feels so damn good."
Yunho watches intently with half-hooded eyes, fingers digging into the flesh of your cheeks to keep you apart and spread wide. The rhythm picks up faster, harder and it sends shock waves. Your toes curl. Mingi is sucking, laving, biting at every inch of skin he can get access to, leaving dark marks wherever his mouth touches, hands caressing your back with fondness.
It's so hot, everything from the wet sounds coming from below to the soft whimpers you can't help. It's messy and frenzied. Yunho is pounding into you while you roll your hips frantically against Mingi, feeling the hot pulsating sensations inside, desperate to have both inside as much and as deep as they can. It's electrifying, having Yunho pound up while Mingi pounds into you, a contrast between soft and deep, filling you up until all you can think of are their throbbing lengths and how much your body aches for them.
"Does Mingi feel good?" Yunho's lips nip at your shoulder blade, breath ghosting, tickling you. "His fat cock stuffed in you like that?"
"I‒" your mind is swimming, lips parted and dripping with the pleasure they're wrangling.
"You take us so well," Yunho groaned and increased the intensity, rocking himself into you. You can't speak coherently at the moment with their dicks in you, all you can do is whimper and mewl as you hold onto the last vestiges of your control. Their thrusts get you going, making your tummy light and buzzy. They fill you and the slide is slick with how soaked you are, making their thrusts all the more satisfying.
Their deep groans vibrate. Skin is on skin as their hips connect with a sinful smacking sound, and they fuck up into you and you're starting to shake and Mingi's warm arms and his smile, the way he sucks your bottom lip, his smell, Yunho's grunts, his low murmurs and the way his hands are so good at supporting you and taking care of you, how deep he can thrust—
The heat that washes over you as they cum together is sinfully exhilarating. Warm bursts fill you from both sides. Yunho burrows himself so deep, his hot cum gushing into you, and it fills you up until you're both dripping onto the sheets.
Your head is tucked in the crook of Mingi's throat, sucking on his collarbone when the feeling washes over. A lazy warmth crawls through your body and has you sagging, the pleasure having wrung your muscles dry. The wetness and fullness make the rest of your orgasm a happy mess, and you cry their names over and over, letting your muscles twitch and shiver, and the sensations are a gentle current rocking you and rippling through, washing all stress and thought from your mind.
This, right now, this is all that matters, you think. 
This was all that mattered. Them.
Mingi pulls out with a shaky, breathless exhale and cradles you against him, the cum oozing down and leaking onto the blankets. You've ruined yet another set of sheets.
Yunho gives your pouty lips a long, deep kiss as his body settles beside Mingi's and you. The taste and feel of the kiss is what grounds you. As your racing pulse finally starts to settle down, Yunho looks as if he wants to say something. His features are sharp in the shadows of the lamplight, the orange glow emphasizing the sharp angles of his face.
He's absolutely gorgeous. And so is Mingi, who brushes the sweat-dampened strands off your cheeks and presses sweet, sloppy little smooches and praise all over your temple and cheeks, his smile infectious. They're both so stunning. It leaves your heart beating faster. You want to cup and memorize the plush curves and contours of Mingi's and Yunho's cheeks.
You're a sight to behold, heaped in between both men. It should have felt embarrassing and disgusting to be a mess of a human, lying limply amongst the filth, but the warmth they share leaves you comfortably and fully content. Their hair is disheveled and their sweaty bodies glisten, and they have not a care in the world but to take care of you. Yunho and Mingi whisper words of admiration and praise as their callused, weathered palms and hands rub circles into your thighs. The throb of afterglow has you almost purring in relief.
The moment you try sitting up though, your legs shake and cramp up. You fall with an unceremonious huff back onto the sheets. Mingi laughs loudly and Yunho can't help but snort. He's instantly up to get a cup of water.
"Don't push yourself so hard, sweetheart. Let's get you washed," Mingi peppers little kisses along your cheekbones, voice a little rough as he reaches out and accepts the warm cloth and wash basin from Yunho, getting you cleaned.
"Fuck," your throat feels so parched, it comes out scratchy and hoarse.
Yunho comes in close, kissing you on the lips, chaste and affectionate, "C'mon. Time to rest."
Mingi chuckles in your ear and eases you backwards onto the pillows, getting rid of the dirtied and tousled blankets and stuffing fresh, clean sheets underneath your tired body. Mingi hums and carefully combs away the curls from your eyes, watching you as your vision blurs and softens, sinking into the soft sheets.
"What's got you thinkin' so hard?" Yunho whispered, his fingertips tracing patterns across the sensitive skin of your hip, bringing his other arm around to pull you close, foreheads resting together. "Hm?"
"Nothing," you nuzzle against the cool curve of his neck, burying your face where his pulse is hammering. It calms you down. Yunho's heartbeat. Mingi's light, soft breathing as he starts to drift asleep. Everything is blissful. "Just happy. Really happy. Just how perfect this moment feels."
"Me too," Yunho hums, his voice sleepy and soft and deep as he hugs your waist. Mingi is hugging your torso from behind and the warmth makes you giggle a little with how safe and cozy you feel in their embrace.
The peace lulls you to a deep sleep. You don't have anything else in this world other than them. Mingi, and Yunho, and everything that comes after this blissful peace. All is as it should be and the feeling is perfect.
"Me too," Mingi whispers. "This. You. Us," He nudges his face against the soft curve of your back. "Love this. Love you."
"Mm," you giggled as you kiss the corner of Yunho's mouth lazily. Your eyelids are getting so heavy that you cannot see. A content, comfortable lethargy overtakes your body. "Love you both."
“Love you too,” Yunho finishes softly, his voice barely a whisper as he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.
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distantdarlings · 22 hours
Text
LET ME // t. nott
RATING: R / 4.8K WORDS
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Theodore Nott x Fem Reader
+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* Theodore Nott has been harassing you ever since he found out you had a crush on him. Now, you’ve been paired together for a project for McGonagall’s class and he has nothing good in mind.
+ WARNINGS - SMUT! (P in V), unprotected, sub!reader, Dom!Theo, slightly rough!dom!Theo, marking kink, slight size kink, bulge kink, brief dumbification, brief spit kink, reader wearing a skirt, light enemies to lovers, language, one (1) slap, name-calling, praise kink, slight degradation, public sex, fem!reader, oral (fem!receiving), Theo is persistent, not proof read (lmk if I missed any)
+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -
Echo - XANU
- - -
Merlin, forgive whatever you had done to deserve the treatment you were currently receiving.
You thought back on every negative deed you’d done in the last year and still hadn’t found anything worthy of your horrendous luck.
The arrogant boy turned to stare you down, malicious intent etched into the unfortunately gorgeous features of his face.
You could feel your face contort into an expression of horror as you tore your eyes away from him and turned to Professor McGonagall.
“Professor, I— you started.”
“All partner decisions are final—no exceptions!” McGonagall finished, as if trying to answer the question you had before you could even voice.
You deflated into your seat, your mood dropping like a brick. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have guessed the entire class was staring at you. The entire student body of Hogwarts knew how you felt about your new Transfiguration project partner, Theodore Nott. The bastard…
You glanced back at up—arms crossed and lips poured—just to find the boy still staring you down, evil smirk painted on his lips. He gave you a sardonic wave, wiggling his fingers tauntingly.
“Fuck,” you sighed, pressed an exasperated fist to your forehead.
Your knee anxiously bobbed beneath the desk, the heel of your uniform shoe beating against the floor in a flurried rhythm.
Luna Lovegood, your best friend, was sitting directly next to you. Intuitive as she always was, you knew she could feel the pure panic radiating off of you. Her hand rested on your shoulder in a small motion of comfort, but nothing could calm you now. You were utterly screwed.
McGonagall finished off the rest of her speech on the instructions for her project, then dismissed the whole class. Luna helped you to gather your things together as you struggled to force yourself to move.
Maybe you’d pissed McGonagall off? Merlin, what had you done to deserve this? You asked yourself the same question over and over again.
Out of the corner of your eye, you glimpsed Theodore flouncing over to you with an unnerving glint in your eyes.
“Well, aren’t I just the luckiest man on earth?” he said snidely.
“Fuck off, Theo,” you growled, intentionally not making eye contact with him.
You made to pick up your books and slide them into your bag, when he slammed his hand down on the cover of one of them, pressing them down against the desk. He pinned your fingers beneath them against the wood—just enough to keep them sturdy, but light enough so that it didn’t hurt you.
“Stop!” You yanked your fingers out from beneath the books, the heavy leather smacking against the table with a thud. Now, you made eye contact with him.
“What are we going to do our project on, baby?” he asked.
“Don’t call me that!” You yanked your books out from underneath his strong hold and shoved them quickly into your bag. “We can discuss it in the library after class.”
“I’m looking forward to it—I’ll be sure we get a quiet corner, you know…,” he stepped closer to you, “…so I can explore every inch of…the subject.”
You sneered in disgust and pulled away from him, his voice still rattling in your ears.
“You’re disgusting,” you scoffed. “I’ll see you later for nothing more than our assignment.”
“Looking forward to it…can’t wait to put those big brains to use. Lovegood.” He nodded politely to Luna before heading off.
You glanced at Luna and acknowledged her slight smile. Everything in you was telling you to snap at her and tell her not to encourage any of the delinquent boy’s behavior, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to ever be very mad at Luna Lovegood. At least, not for long.
Instead, you rolled your eyes and took off toward the door, bag swinging between your shoulder blades.
“Wait up, friend!” Luna shouted lightly, running to catch up with you. You snorted and laughed at her, letting her sunlight hair fall into step beside you.
- - -
By the time your class of the day dismissed and the sun had begun to sink beneath the Hogwarts skyline, you were soaked through with nerves. The saturation of your anxiety had managed to breach every protective barrier you held up, and fill your hands with shudders and your stomach with nausea.
The root of your nerves when it came to Theo came from the consistent comments he insisted on making toward you. It seemed that he loved nothing more than dropping sexual hints into your ear every few days just to watch you squirm. He’d only started this after he’d heard through the grapevine you had a bit of a thing for him.
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive, and that his words had absolutely no effect on you, but you couldn’t deny that he was just as annoying as he was charming.
It had gotten to a point when he made these comments, that he loved to joke aloud about your reactions to him, effectively embarrassing you in front of all of your peers. That was your final straw. All resemblance of an attraction toward Theo had melted away and been replaced by hatred.
And yet, as your feet led you to the grand library, you couldn’t stop the rapid pattering of your heart beat. Something about the boy had always been so…irresistible to you. Whether it was the way he always knew where to place his hands when he “accidentally” brushed you, or how he knew exactly what to say when he pressed his lips against the shell of your ear. You figured you should be grossed out and tell him to get away from you, but, unfortunately, you kind of liked it when he did those things.
As you came up to one of the several library doors lining the wall before you, you decided to try and swallow your nerves and focus only on the project. That was what you were supposed to do anyway—this wasn’t a date.
You pulled one of the doors open and slipped into the warmly-lit room. It always seemed to be just a tad bit cozier here than anywhere else in the castle—whether that was from the multiple fireplaces or the sweet aroma that floated through the air. Either way, you loved it.
Your neck craned as you glanced about, trying to glimpse the cocky boy, but to no avail. Wherever he was, he surely wasn’t interested in making it easy on you to find him.
A sigh left you as you started toward the back of the library where a couple tables rested behind a few conveniently placed bookcases. Unfortunately, the feeling in your stomach told you that he surely would be sitting at one of those tables, simply because you knew how his dirty, little mind worked.
That corner of the library was…infamous for its concealed nature. Everyone in Hogwarts had heard the little rumors that fluttered about, of couples getting a bit too friendly with each other while the librarian was downstairs.
Because of those rumors, it had garnered a reputation. And if someone who had a penchant for gossip slipped past you and Theodore Nott studying back there, you’d be screwed.
Once you passed the last book case, zigzagging between the three that formed the perfect labyrinth, you came upon Theo comfortably waiting at the table in the middle. A groan of defeat left you and your head dipped back. You stared at the ceiling for a few moments while contemplating your options—you could still run away.
“Hello, beautiful,” Theo said, leaning his chin down on his propped up fists. “I’ve been waiting so impatiently for you.”
“Whatever,” you sighed. You crossed over to the table and sat across from him—the farthest away you could get. Your bag collapsed to the ground and unzipped itself on the way down. The things you needed for this assignment floated out and landed neatly on the table before you, including a few rolls of parchment, a quill and ink, and your books.
He marveled silently, seemingly trying to hide his fascination at your wandless magic. Perhaps if he studied as hard as you did, he would also be able to achieve it.
“Alright, shall we do this?” you asked, maintaining a bored expression.
“I’d love to,” he smirked. “But I’d love to showcase a bit of my magic as well, if that’s alright with you?”
“What—?” Your voice was cut off with a slight gasp as all four legs of your chair lifted off of the ground. Your fingers wrapped around the sides of your seat to keep you from slipping off.
Theo’s eyes followed your chair as it floated over the table and all the way beside him. Once your shoulders were inches from his, your chair dropped a few centimeters to the ground. A small yelp came from you as you regained your balance and glared at him. Perhaps he was a better wizard than you thought.
“What the hell, Theo?” you demanded, immediately scooting your chair away from him, putting a good few inches between you.
“I just thought we’d be able to work better closer together,” he purred, his arm dropping against the table to cage you against him and the bookshelf a bit to your left. You eased away from him so you were closer to the shelves than you were to him. His eyes never dropped from yours. “Merlin, what is that smell? You smell absolutely divine—”
“Okay, let’s just get this done,” you interrupted him, pushing his approaching body back away from you.
“Mm, alright,” he smiled. “Have you decided on a topic you’re interested in presenting on?”
“Actually, I have.” You pulled your books across the table over to where the two of you were sitting, flipping everything to the appropriate page. There were a couple pages in your notebook where you’d jotted some ideas down earlier today, and you’d figured he’d want to see the different ideas, as it was his grade, as well. “So, I threw a couple of ideas together in my fourth period. We can see what you think of them…”
As you explained the details of all of your ideas, it became increasingly obvious that Theo was not at all interested in what you had to say about the project. Though you refused to look directly at him, the corner of your eyes granted more than enough knowledge.
Theo’s eyes were ravenous as they drew down your body, curving across the most private areas of your body with no shame. You could feel your cheeks burning, but hoped the warm tones from the candles around you would conceal that.
When he scooted a bit closer to you, you kept talking. And when he laid his arm across the back of your chair, you kept talking. And when his fingers began to toy with the ends of your hair, you kept talking. But when he took your quill gently from your fingers and set it down on the table, you finally stopped. You barely made eye contact with him, constantly glancing away and down to the table. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears.
His fingers pulled away from your hair and dropped to your shoulder. They squeezed the hard muscles a few times.
“God, you seem tense,” he spoke lowly, his voice barely above a whisper. His other hand reached up and matched the opposite’s position on your other shoulder.
When he placed a gentle amount of pressure, it expressed a small sigh from your lips. He was right. You were very tense—in general, but especially around him.
“Here, let me…,” he stood and appeared behind you rather quickly.
“Theo, I don’t think this is appropriate. I’d really just—” Your voice cut off as soon as he began to roll your taut muscles beneath his nimble fingers. Your eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, pleasurable jolts of pain shocking across your neck and down your back.
“That’s okay, baby,” he whispered, dangerously close to your ear. “Finish telling me about your idea. I’ll just loosen some things up back here. Fuck, you’re so tight.”
He pressed an especially hard drive against your skin. You bit back a moan at the sensation. You don’t think you’d ever had a better massage in your life.
You wanted to tell him to stop, but it felt so fucking good. And you really were sore around your neck and shoulders.
“Theo?” you tried again.
“Read.” His voice had a commanding tone to it. One hand released your shoulder briefly to grab your books and slide them closer to you, before returning to its position against your skin.
His hands worked their way up around your jaw, cupping it gently, so he could press his thumbs against the back of your neck. You audibly sighed this time without intending to. Embarrassed, you attempted to cover it up with a clear of your throat.
You began to explain the rest of your project plan, small shudders rippling through your voice every time he’d hit an especially sore spot.
By the time he finished and pulled his hands away from you, your body was mourning the loss of him but relishing in the relief it felt. It honestly hadn’t felt far off from a professional massage.
“How’s that?” He walked around to your side, still not sitting back down.
“Er, good,” you chuckled nervously, rubbing your hand along the back of your neck, trying to spread the relief around.
“Perfect,” he smiled, gently swiping his index finger beneath your chin. He sat back down beside you.
“So, what do you think?” you asked.
“About what?”
“The project idea…”
“Oh, yeah, I think it’s wonderful,” he said, shrugging a bit. “I think we can work with it.”
“Theo, did you even listen?” you asked, rolling your eyes.
“Of course, I did,” he chuckled. “It’s just not easy to focus when you have such a gorgeous partner.”
There went your cheeks getting insanely hot again. He thought you were gorgeous? There was no way. Someone must have put him up to this, right? Or he was fucking with you because he knew you had had a bit of a crush on him.
“I—er…” you stuttered hopelessly, pulling your eyes away from his.
He placed a hand on your knee. You could feel the warmth of his skin through your tights. The heartbeat in your ears picked up wildly.
“Don’t be nervous around me.”
“What?” you laughed suddenly. “I’m not nervous, I’m just—you’re just really…friendly? I don’t know. Why are you pretending to be so interested in me? Did someone put you up to it?”
“Why would someone have put me up to flirting with you?” he asked, genuinely confused.
“Because they know I had a thing for you,” you blurted before thinking. “I mean—”
“Nope! Can’t take it back now, my love.” Theo chuckled, an evil smirk printing across his lips. “And, for the record, no one put me up to flirting with you. I just want to.”
His hand slid up to the top of your knee as he leaned a bit forward.
“Theo!” you hissed. “We’re in the library—you can’t do that.” Though you verbally protested his actions, you couldn’t deny the heat building in your stomach at his touch.
Despite the conviction you had for needing to decline him and all of his advances, you couldn’t seem to suppress the need you felt for him right now—a different kind. His eyes remained on yours and refused to look away.
The two of you were in the library, and had seemed to despise each other’s company only minutes earlier, but for some reason, you couldn’t force yourself to stop his rising hand.
Soon, his fingers were toying with the edge of your skirt and his lips were millimeters from your own. You could feel his gentle breath against your cheeks.
“Theo…,” you shuddered at his proximity. His thumb slid slowly down the side of your thigh, the contact eliciting chills along your legs.
“You’ve wanted me for months,” he murmured, lips brushing against yours. “Are you finally going to let me fuck you?”
You gasped slightly as the tip of his thumb just barely brushed your core through your panties.
“Say yes, or I’m not going to touch you anymore.”
As if on cue, his hands pulled back from you and his mouth seemed to hover a few inches away. The cold air hit the spot his hand had been occupying on your thigh and sent a row of shivers up your spine.
“I don’t understand. Is this a joke?” you shuddered.
He shook his head slowly. “Not a joke, I just want you. Say yes, baby.”
“Y—” before you were even able to get the singular syllable out, his lips were pressing against yours and devouring them like a predator.
His hand found its place against your thigh again, the other hand following suit on the other thigh. He pushed them up the expanse of your skin, inching your skirts up in the process.
You moaned against his lips in embarrassment at the sudden loss of dignity.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he sighed against your mouth. “Let me taste you.” He pressed his lips roughly back to yours.
You gasped for air and pulled away, noses brushing against the other. “Say please,” you managed to choke out.”
“What?”
“Say please,” you repeated. “What, did you think I was going to come here and just give you whatever you wanted?”
“Oh, that’s how you’re going to be?” he smirked. You stared back astutely, not yielding to any teasing he tried to give.
“Alright, baby,” he conceded. He pulled himself closer to you and worked his way up your neck and to your ear, pressing chaste kisses against your flesh. “Please let me taste this sweet cunt. ‘ve been dreaming about it for months.”
You shivered at his words before nodding. You weren’t in your right mind—you couldn’t be.
He slid out of his chair and dropped to his knees. His hands wrapped around your hips and yanked you to the edge of the seat. His fingers pushed your skirt up around your hips and angled you up toward his face, pulling your legs over each of his shoulders.
The cool air flushed against the hot wetness slathered across your thighs. But the shock of wintry air was canceled out quickly by Theo’s hot mouth placing against your clothed core.
Your head fell back against the chair as your hands flew to his honeyed curls.
He swirled his lips across you, gathering your lust on his tongue. Each time you let a little moan slip, he’d echo you with his own louder one. It wasn’t loud enough to be heard anywhere else in the library, but it was enough to vibrate against you and send your head spinning.
The second your thighs began to shake on either side of his sharp jaw, he pulled away from you, leaving you bare and wanting.
“Turn around,” he panted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Obstinately, you held your chin up and refused to obey him. You wanted to appear strong and resistant as payment for how much of a dick he’d been to you, but with your quivering lips and legs still spread wide for him, you figured you didn’t quite get the point across.
He suddenly grabbed your jaw in one hand, while undoing his belt buckle with the other. Anticipation boiled in your belly.
“Turn around,” he said before suddenly and mockingly tilting his head to the side. “Or do you not understand what’s good for you?”
When you said nothing, he pulled you out of the chair and bent you over the library table. You yelped as your chest collided with the table.
Once on your stomach, he flipped your skirt over against your back and ripped your panties and stockings down your legs until the soaked things were stuck around your ankles.
Then, without another warning, he was sliding into you and stretching you wide. You gasped aloud and gripped at the smooth table, begging to find purchase on anything.
He moaned slightly at the way you clenched around him. He pushed himself into you a little more with each slow thrust, the movement splitting you down the middle. His hands held you tightly in place by your hips, pinning you down against the table.
“Shit, you feel fucking perfect,” he moaned, fingers gripping into your flesh.
Every alarm bell was ringing in your head, telling you to separate and cover yourselves, because you were in public. But, for some reason, you found yourself loving the thrill of possibly being walked in on; of possibly being found with Theodore Nott buried deep inside of you, taking his pleasure from your body.
By the time he’d finally bottomed out inside of you, he was panting and willing himself not to come prematurely.
“I’ve never felt anything this tight,” he groaned.
You hadn’t been able to see the size of him before he started pushing into you, but you had to guess he was the biggest you’d ever felt. Just having his hips pressed to your ass felt like the tip of him was brushing your cervix.
“Ah, fuck, wait,” he said, panting heavily. He rubbed your back as he slowly pulled all the way out of you and stood you up. He turned you around to face him and laid your back against the table.
He brought your legs around him and you hooked them together behind his back. You watched him with deep admiration as his fingers stroked up and down your legs, preparing to explain what he wanted.
“I want to watch me fill you up,” he whispered, leaning down to press a slow kiss to your lips. It was sweet and thick with saliva but, despite everything else he’d so far, this set off a flurry of butterflies in your stomach.
His hands came away from your legs and wrapped around your waist. He watched addictively as his fingers wrapped entirely around your body, his large hands positively dwarfing your small frame. And you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes fill with an inky, black glint as he brought his hips to the underside of your thighs.
He placed his dick on your stomach, reveling in how far up your stomach it went. He moaned at the sight and pulled your right leg up and over his shoulder. He pressed a small kiss to the side of your calf.
“Theo,” you whined, still reeling from the loss of him inside of you. “Please, no more teasing.”
“Be patient, baby,” he whispered against your leg. “I want to remember this moment.”
“Theo,” you urged once more. But his hand came down hard against the outer side of your thigh. You yelped at the pain that radiated down the side of your leg.
“I said to be patient.” He soothed the pain gently with his fingers, still looking down at how big he looked compared to you.
One of the things he’d always had on you was height. No matter if the things he said were stupid and undermining, you couldn’t deny that his size was enough to have the high ground.
“Look, we don’t have all the time in the world,” you sighed, leaning up on your elbows to speak with him. “The librarian could walk in here at any—”
He pushed back into you, choking any other words in your throat. You gasped and fell back against the wooden table, the cold lacquer biting into your flesh.
“Fuck,” Theo all but whined. He pressed his fingers against your lower abdomen where his dick had created a perfect impression. Every time he pulled out then pushed back in, his sheer size forced the body wall up and simultaneously probed a spot inside of you that had your eyes rolling backward.
Without wasting another second, he picked up his pace while dropping his hands down to your still-tucked in uniform shirt. He ripped the material out from beneath the waistband of your skirt, and ripped the buttons apart.
The candles floating overhead illuminated the curves and dips of your stomach, highlighting The valley of your breasts.
Hips still pistoning into you, and left hand holding your waist still, his right hand reached forward again and ripped the clip of your bra apart. Luckily, you’d worn the front access one today.
At the force of the destruction, your breasts fell apart from one another, bouncing against your dampened chest.
“Fuck,” he growled. “Gonna mark this beautiful body. Gonna let everyone know you’re mine. My girl.”
His words sent shockwaves through your system. You tried to reach for him but you couldn’t reach. Your arms fell back down against the table, your lack of anything to hold on to leaving you completely at the mercy of the pace he decided to set.
“T-Theo,” you stuttered, your voice breaking beneath the weight of his abuse.
He leaned down, pushing himself all the way into you for a moment, and latched his lips around a mouthful of your left breast. He sucked roughly on the flesh, pulling the blood to the surface. You whined through the pain that mingled with the pleasure from him below.
Once he was satisfied with the bruise painted on you, he moved toward your neck, sucking and biting just as rough, hips never halting.
“That’s it, baby,” he whispered. “Tell me how it feels.” He nibbled on your earlobe.
You said nothing, your lips unable to form enough to make any words come out. Your fingers still gripped uselessly at the sides of the table. One leg was held uselessly over Theo’s shoulder while the other dangled limply over the edge of the table.
He leaned up. “Tell me how it feels, baby.”
Still, you made no sound.
“Oh, you pathetic thing,” he whispered, lips pressing to your elevated leg once again. “Am I fucking you stupid? Is that what it is? Yeah, baby? Next time, I’ll shove this dick down your throat and see how quiet you are then, you dumb slut.”
Now, within the final moments before your finish, his thumb dropped to your clit and began to rub small circles into the nerves. Your mouth fell open and your back arched to the ceiling as his hips intensified. They forced your finish closer and closer until you were spilling all over him, coating your legs and his stomach.
At the clenching of your core, his release was barreling forward, as well. He came with a long groan and a slow walk down of the brutal pace he’d set with his hips. His spend mixed with yours dripped down your legs.
Finally, with him still inside of you, he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to yours. He eyed you sweetly, caressing soothing lines across your temple with his thumb.
“My sweet girl, you did so well,” he whispered against your lips. “Has anyone else ever fucked you so well?” There was that cocky Theo again.
“Maybe like one other person,” you gasped, trying to catch your breath.
“Oh, yeah? Who?” he asked, suddenly grabbing your jaw again and forcing you to look directly at him.
“Hmm, I’m not sure,” you said. “I think I forgot his name. I’ll probably just forget yours tomorrow, too.” You teased him meanly, smirk building on your lips. This was further payback for all the months of harassment you’d dealt with from him.
He pinched your cheeks together until your lips were pushed open.
“You can forget my name, sweetheart,” he whispered roughly, “but you’ll never forget what I just did to this body.”
His eyes watched yours with an intensity like no other. Then his lips pursed, and you watched as a line of spit dropped into your waiting mouth. It was the ultimate display of humiliation, but also ownership. You belonged to Theo, now.
And even if you forced yourself to forget his name or this day in the library, you’d never wipe the taste of his claim out of your mouth.
“Now, let’s get to work on that attitude, shall we?” Theo asked, voice suddenly chipper again.
He pulled out of you and zipped his pants back up, before selecting his bag off of the chair—which you’d now noticed he hadn’t even unpacked.
“Tomorrow at 6?” he asked.
Then he Disapparated, leaving you entirely exposed and alone.
That son of a bitch.
- - -
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aemondloverr · 3 days
Text
𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲
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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐕𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐) 
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 • 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 • 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: As the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra, you are sent to the North to negotiate terms with Lord Stark.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: Disapproving Jace
𝐰𝐜: 𝟐.𝟒𝐤
𝐀/𝐍: Ngl school was kicking my ass but I still wanna deliver 😪 (btw, cregan appears in the next part, not the first. AND for some reason links are currently not working :( Sorry abt that!! Must be some kind of bug)
❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆
“Mother? You sent for me?”
Rhaenyra is sitting at a table in her chambers, sipping wine and surrounded by various papers and documents. She looks up as you enter and a soft smile tugs at her lips, her eyes seeming to light up for just a moment
“Yes, my daughter. Come, sit with me.”
She pats the seat beside her, clearing a space among the piles of documents. There's an expectant look in her eye, her gaze resting on you
“I have something to discuss with you.”
Oh no
You know whenever those words come from the mouth of a mother, it’s never good. You’re either in trouble, or it’s something serious.
You approach the chair nervously and sit.
She sighs and sets down her glass of wine, shifting her attention fully to you. Her eyes seem to search your face for a moment before she speaks again.
“You're growing up so fast, you know that? It feels like just yesterday you were a little girl running through the gardens, laughing and playing with your brothers.”
You smile at the mention of fond memories.
Oh Gods. A speech is always a bad indicator. Especially one of childhood.
A pang of bittersweet nostalgia seems to pass over Rhaenyra’s features as she continues, her voice taking on a hint of regret
“Sometimes, I wish I could freeze time and keep you just as you are right now, still young and innocent, before the world has a chance to harden your heart. But… that’s not the way things work, is it?”
“I know mother…” Your smile quickly fades and you worry for what she’ll say next.
Rhaenyra holds your gaze for a moment before she speaks again, her voice soft and earnest
“You're much more perceptive than your brothers, you know that? You always were, even as a child. You always seemed to know what I was thinking before I even said it-”
“Is there something you want me to do?” It would be nice if she stopped beating around the bush and just asked.
She takes a deep breath as if steeling herself for what comes next, her gaze unwavering and intent on you
“…As you know, my reign is not without its challenges. There are those who question my claim to the throne, who think that my rule is not rightful. I need you to understand, my love, that in the future you may be forced to make difficult decisions, decisions that will impact not just your own life, but the future of the entire realm.”
You stare, expectantly
“This is why I am asking you to go to Winterfell…”
What…??
“But mother…”
She knows that this is the part where you'll likely protest
“I know you don't want to go, my love. I know that leaving home, leaving me, is difficult for you. Believe me, I would not ask this of you if there was any other option.”
“But Cregan…you know what he did…”
You’d expected something important yes, but this?…This was simply too much to ask of you .
Her hand comes to rest on top of yours in a comforting gesture.
“I know, my love. I know it hurt you greatly, believe me, it pained me to see you so distraught.”
“So why can’t you send Jace. Why would you send me to see him??”
“Jace is a good, honourable boy. I know he would do his duty and serve me well as a diplomatic envoy to Winterfell. But he is not you. I'm sending you for a reason, my love.”
“And why’s that??” You begin to get frustrated
Rhaenyra looks straight into your eyes, her gaze unwavering as she speaks
“Because Cregan Stark is a proud and stubborn man, one who values strength and resilience. He is unlikely to listen to just anyone. But he knows you. He once cared for you, deeply. I'm sending you there as someone who has the potential to sway him to our cause.”
“This is not fair. How could you even consider asking me this when you know—“
She sees you tearing up and reaches out to brush a strand of hair out of your face, her touch, gentle and tender
“You know that duty must take precedence over desire…”
“For the realm...” You mutter, a tear falling
Rhaenyra's heart aches to see the tears in your eyes, but she doesn't falter in her resolve. She lifts her free hand to your face, gently wiping away a tear that threatens to spill down your cheek.
“Yes, my love. For the realm…”
She gently pulls you closer, letting you rest your head against her shoulder. She runs her fingers through your hair, her touch soft and soothing
“…For our family. For all the people we are sworn to protect.”
*****
Later that evening at supper
The entire family is gathered around the large table in the dining hall, eating their supper and engaging in light conversation. Rhaenyra is seated at the head of the table, daemon at the other with Jace seated to her left and Luke to her right.
Joffrey is seated across from Jace, chattering away happily about some toy he received. Rhaenyra glances up to where you are sitting, a small but weary smile on her face
Jace notices your quieter-than-usual demeanor and nudges you gently with his elbow
“Hey, are you alright? You're awfully quiet tonight.”
“Yea I’m alright, I’ll tell you later” you whisper.
Jace looks at you for a moment, his expression one of concern, but nods understandingly. He returns to his food, but you can feel his gaze occasionally flicking over to you throughout the meal.
*****
Rhaenyra stands and taps her glass.
At her signal, the conversation around the table dies down, and everyone turns to face her. Rhaenyra stands, her expression serious as she looks around at her family
She clears her throat and speaks, her voice steady and commanding
"Before everyone retires for the evening, I have an announcement to make."
Rhaenyra takes a deep breath, her gaze flickering briefly to you before continuing.
"As you all know, the stability of the realm depends on maintaining strong alliances and relationships with our noble houses. It is therefore necessary for me to send an envoy to Winterfell to reinforce our ties there."
A pause.
"I have decided to send your sister to Winterfell as our representative. She will leave in two days' time."
There is a moment of stunned silence as the rest of the family processes this information. Jace looks over at you, his forehead creasing with confusion. Luke's mouth has dropped open in surprise. Even Joffrey is silent, for once.
Jace protests. Daemon just sits back and watches the drama
He speaks up immediately, his voice filled with concern
"Mother, surely you can't be serious? You're sending our sister all the way to Winterfell? Alone? It's too dangerous!"
Rhaenyra looks at Jace with sympathy but irritation at his protest.
"I understand your concern, my son, but this decision is not up for debate. Your sister is perfectly capable of handling herself and representing our house honorably."
“At least let me go with her“
"No, Jace. I cannot spare you here, I need you by my side. One dragon in the open is enough and the greens could spot you” your mother says sternly.
“Mother you can’t just-”
Joffrey cries and Luke tries to comfort him. He doesn’t like the arguing and yelling
“It is done Jacaerys. You will argue no more about this!”
You quickly excuse yourself from the table, hurrying to your chambers.
Jace looks like he wants to say something, but Rhaenyra gives him a warning glance, and he reluctantly stays silent
As you head back to your chambers, you can hear the murmurs of the rest of the family resume, their low voices discussing the announcement Rhaenyra made. As you begin to pack your things, there's a soft knock on your door
“Enter”
Jace enters the room, closing the door behind him. He stands awkwardly for a moment, his hands fidgeting at his sides. Finally, he takes a deep breath and speaks, his voice filled with concern
"Are you really okay with this, going to Winterfell and seeing...him again?"
“I…have to” your back is turn from him as you put your clothing into leather bags
His expression softens and he moves closer to you, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder* "I know, but that doesn't make it any easier. I don't want you to get hurt, especially not by him."
“You need not worry Jace, I will be fine.” You already know that’s a lie. And he does too. But saying it out loud makes it feel true.
"You can say that all you want, but that doesn't make it any less worrying. I know how much he meant to you before."
“I am not going there to pursue him, I am going there to gain the North as an ally for our house.”
Jace nods, his expression serious once more
"I know that's the purpose of the mission, but you can't deny that seeing him again will be hard for you. You have feelings for him."
“What are you saying Jace.”
Jace sighs and runs a hand through his hair, glancing at you with concern "I'm saying that you're fooling yourself if you think going to Winterfell and seeing Cregan Stark isn't going to stir up feelings you thought you had buried."
“So what if it does…It’s not like I’m going to act on them.” You’re just going to do what is asked of you and leave. Nothing more.
"You say that now, but what happens if he wants to revisit the past with you? What if he wants to rekindle what you had between you?"
You let out a huff of frustration. “Just stop Jace. You don’t know anything anyways…”
He takes a step back, his expression hurt, almost. "What do I know? I know that you've been in love with Cregan Stark since you were children, and I know how much it hurt you when he left and you still haven’t gotten over it!”
You turn and look at him in disbelief that he would mention the very thing you’ve been trying to avoid. “Just go…Leave!”
Jace's expression softens at your harsh tone, and he takes another step back, swallowing thickly. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but then closes it again, his eyes flicking to the ground before back up to you.
“Fine.”
He shuts the door with force.
You stand alone in your room, the silence heavy and oppressive without Jace's presence. You feel your emotions welling up inside of you, a mixture of anger and sadness and frustration at Jace's words. But deep down, you can't shake the feeling that you know he’s right.
*****
For the next two days you stay in your room, packing and pondering until the night it’s time to leave.
The atmosphere in the castle is tense, the realization of your imminent departure hanging heavy in the air. Rhaenyra and the rest of the family have gathered to see you off.
Rhaenyra stands next to Silverwing, watching you with a mixture of sadness and pride. The dragon emits a low, melancholic whine, as if sensing the gravity of the situation. The boys and daemon stand on either side of Rhaenyra, their faces stoic but anxious.
“I will see you in few weeks time.”
Rhaenyra nods, her expression solemn. She steps forward and hugs you tightly, pulling you to her chest. The hug is firm and possessive, conveying a mixture of love and protectiveness.
"Be safe, my love. I will count every day until your return."
You step aside to hug Jace. He returns your hug, his arms wrapping around you tightly. He holds you close for a moment, his chin resting on the top of your head. When he pulls back, his expression is still serious, and he mutters quietly.
"Be careful, alright? Don't do anything stupid."
“No promises…”
Jace gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before stepping back to allow Luke to say his goodbyes. Luke hugs you tightly, burying his face into your shoulder. When he pulls back, he's fighting back tears, his voice wavering when he speaks
"I don't want you to go."
Joffrey then hugs at your waist, teary eyed, his aebottom lip trembling.
"Please don't go, please...I want you to stay."
Joffrey buries his face into your stomach, his small hands tugging at your dress. Luke places a hand on Joffrey's shoulder, trying to soothe his younger brother's distress. He looks at you helplessly, his own eyes glassy with tears
“Hush sweetlings…I wont be gone forever” You kiss their cheeks and tops of their heads
"You'll come back, right? You promise?"
“I promise.”
Joffrey and Luke both look up at you, their eyes wide and pleading, searching your face for assurance. Rhaenyra steps forward, her hand resting on each of their shoulders.
"Your sister will be back before you know it, and she'll come back with a great success for our house."
Even Jace tears up a bit but rolls his eyes, trying to play it off.
"I'm not tearing up. I just got something in my eye, that's all." He rubs at his eye, trying to cover up the fact that he is, in fact, on the verge of crying.
Then comes Daemond with a large, tight hug, practically suffocating you.
“Alright alright I love you too” you struggle with a strained voice and he finally lets go
“Just come back in one piece.”
“You know I will” you playfully push his shoulder.
You tie your bags to Silverwing and mount her saddle, blowing air kisses as you lead silver wing out of the den and out into the dark of the night.
The entire family watches as you and Silverwing take flight, the dragon's wings beating strongly as you soar into the black sky.
A sense of melancholy hangs in the air, the weight of your absence already palpable among those left behind. Rhaenyra's expression is solemn as she watches you disappear into the distance, a silent prayer on her lips for your safe return.
❆ • ❆ • ❆ • ❆
𝐀/𝐍: I hope you enjoyed and forgive me for the delay. AP clases are NOT for the weak 😭 part 2 will definitely be out within the next few weeks tho. Let me cook.
PS. The plot is a bit different from the teaser. Please don’t be mad at me🙏🏾
@beebeechaos @iv-vee @aemondwhoresworld @obscure-beauty @6ternalsun @msmarvelknight @melsunshine @cregansfourthwife
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justjensenanddean · 3 days
Text
Jensen Ackles | DC Convention, September 22, 2024, Main Panel Summary
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(FangasmSPN)
Jensen apparently filmed all night on Friday and flew straight here ??? does he sleep???? (x) JJ to her dad: I miss you so much I can't even function. @JensenAckles : I have a few more years of being the center of her universe #SPNDC (x) When asked what they would tell their 16-year old that wants a tattoo, @JensenAckles "A tattoo is a story. You should wait until you've lived enough life to have a good story." (x) Jensen: at 15 you don't have anything figured out yet so just tell her that (x) “There was a scene where dean gets upset and takes a crow bar to the car… and that hurt. That hurt Jensen. But they actually had a panel there so, just so you know, I wasn’t hitting… ✨her✨” (x) Someone asked if there’s a question that they’re like “ugh i hope they hope people don’t ask this agaINNNNN”and Jared said some of the prank stuff i could kiss him (x) Jensen did say tho that even questions they’ve been asked before they think on them over time and there’s not really an “oh no” question cuz we’re all so respectful and good about stuff and if there IS a problem they’ll be like “not answering that NEXT” (x) Jensen: My partner on this new show is 6’6. a 265 lb rugby player. I look TINY compared to him. Like a little baby boy #spndc (x) Question: "Is there anything you would like people to know about you?" @JensenAckles "I am not a good liar. Being an actor, you'd think I'd be a better liar, but I'm not. @DanneelHarris catches me whenever I try." (x) Apparently Danneel can always fucking tell when Jensen is lying lmfao she’s like “you’re AWFUL at that” (x) .@JensenAckles : I wish these communities of fans existed when we were young. I'm glad they do today. #SPNDC (x) Fan: I have anxiety and depression so i just need advice on how to handle it Jared: i seek professional help. i do! Jensen: I think you’ve already taken a huge step in just admitting it to a room of hundreds. know its a journey. It's not something that just gets fixed (x) Dream roles they’ve always wanted to play Jensen: batman. James Bond. Indiana Jones. and a Jedi. (x) Fan: *ask abt video games* Jensen: Dean would just kill dance dance revolution (x)
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thebestsetter · 18 hours
Text
Thinking about Isagi Yoichi being a nervous wreck for your guys first date.
He doesn't even know how he managed to get you to say yes to his shitty proposal. It all went wrong, but, as always, you made the wrong seem right and did the unthinkable: you agreed to going on a date with him.
This date needed to go perfectly. He can't mess this opportunity up. You were going to see how he's the perfect boyfriend for you, both gentle and funny, and accept his "proposal" when he asked the awaited question: "Do you want to be my girlfriend?".
I mean, c'mon, going on a date with a girl can't be that hard, right...? Well, for Isagi it sure was. Because it wasn't just a girl. It was you. And that thought alone made him feel like he might faint on the spot.
And so, the week preceding your date with him, Yoichi is planning everything meticulously. He needed every help he could get.
And who is better to help him than his friends?
7 days before the date.
"No, no!" Isagi screamed "She wouldn't act like that! You're not helping at all, Nagi."
"I wanna sleep." Seishiro said, removing the phone that he was holding in front of his face with your picture on it "Why does it have to be with me and in my room? Can't you practice in front of a mirror or something?"
"It doesn't feel the same!" Isagi huffed, running his hands through his hair "Just one more time. Remember, I helped you hide from Barou when he chased after you for wetting the bed with your hair, and you said you owned me one. Therefore, you're repaying me and can't run away from this."
"Okay then" Nagi snored, and put the phone with your photo in front of his face again
"Try to get her personality right this time" Isagi rolled his eyes and grabbed the paper with his speech. The moment he looked at your face, he blushed hard. Boy, he was so head over heels for you it was almost ridiculous. "Hey! How are you today? Hope you're doing fine!" Okay, great start. I didn't stutter. This is going to be perfect.
"Hello Yoichi-kun. I'm fine, thank you for asking. How about you." Nagi said monotonously while reading his own paper with the phrases he was supposed to say. It was actually kinda funny how he said this without any emotion.
"I was doing well, but I'm feeling e-even better now that you're here!" Yoichi said and shot Nagi finger guns while showing a strained smile. "So, where do you wanna sit--"
"Nagi! I bought you some lemon tea!!--"
"REO! KNOCK BEFORE ENTERING." Isagi said while his cheeks burned with a red so bright you could amost see smoke coming out his ears.
"Isagi. What the actual fuck--"
6 days before the date.
"I'm surprised you even decided to help me" Yoichi said while looking at a menu
"It's out of pity" Reo, who was sitting in front of him, said "You are helpless. But I'm gonna help you make her have the best date of her life" he smirked
Doing a signal with his hands, Reo called his driver, who parked the car right in front of their table.
"Okay. Now, get into the car."
"Uh... where are we going?? I thought you told me to meet you here so we could practice how I would act."
"And that's exactly what we're gonna do. Just get into the car, don't you trust me?"
'No I don't' Isagi thought, but he didn't say anything. He stepped into the car, obtaining a smirk from Reo, who also entered the vehicle.
"See, that wasn't that hard, was it?" His smirk widened, but soon disappeared when Mikage put on a serious face "Now, pretend I'm her. Here's the situation: we just got to the place of the date and we're about to leave the car. What do you do?"
"I... open the car door, get out and close it right after."
"Wrong. You open the car door, get out, hold it for her so she can also exit and then close it. Geez, this is going to be harder than I thought." Reo sighed "Now, let's practice. Do what I just told you"
Isagi nodded. He then opened the door, got out of the car and held it open so Reo could also exit.
Just when he thought it was all going well, a bee landed on his nose. Desperate to scare the insect, he started to shake his hands in front of his nose
"Shoo! Shoo!"
"OUCH!"
"Oh shit." The same hand he was using to scare the bee away was also the hand he was previously using to hold the car door. And his hand couldn't do 2 things at the same time. So, when he released the door, it strongly hit Reo's face.
"Shit. Reo, I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry too, but it's not because of me" Reo made an angry face while rubbing his forehead "I'm sorry for your date. Let's try again. Do it properly this time."
With a sigh, Isagi entered the car again.
5 days before the date.
"I can't believe I'm gonna say this, but I need your help, Otoya." Yoichi said and swallowed hard, knowing that his next words would be a punch to his ego, but it needed to be done. "I'm a disaster! When I was training with Reo, I spilled coffe on him, the car door hit his face and I made him fall when I pulled the chair so he could sit on it. And I know you talk to a lot of girls, so you must know what to do."
"You came to the right place, dude." Otoya smirked and held open his shared dorm's door "Fear not, me and Tabito are going to help you get that girl."
Okay. When he said they'd "help him make you fall for him", he didn't imagine it meant watching Otoya flirting with Karasu wearing a wig for 10 minutes straight.
"Did you take notes?" Eita asked
"Yeah, I did" Isagi bashfully answered while holding up the little notebook he had in hand, which was full of notes about Otoya's advices on how to "step up his game".
"Okay, now it's your turn." The ninja said, seating down
"W-what? I didn't know I would also have to flirt with Karasu"
"It's for practice only! And you just have to pretend it's not me" Tabito answered, and then made a high pitched voice "I'm the girl you like!" He battered his eyelashes and put his hands together.
"S-sure..." Yoichi said, getting up "Okay so... uhm... how do I start?"
"Tell her a pick up line"
"Any?"
"Any."
"...do you play soccer? Cause you're a keeper." followed by finger guns.
The silence in the room was almost papable. Otoya and Karasu exchanged looks. Isagi was sweating. Karasu and Otoya locked gazes again. And then all of a sudden...
They began to laugh. Hard.
"Oh shit..." Karasu said, wiping away a tear from his eyes "This was so bad!"
"I know, right?" Otoya agreed "He did the finger guns and all that"
"W-what?! Was it that bad??"
"The worst I've ever seen. I wish i had recorded it"
"Nah, don't worry. I did, it's right here."
"KARASU, DELETE THAT RIGHT NOW."
4 day before the date
"Okay..." Chigiri said, analysing Isagi's hair "Based on the shape of your head, we could do a buzzcut. Ladies like it."
"You're sure you know how to cut people's hair right?" Isagi asked nervously
"Yeah I do. Just sit back, relax and let me do my thing"
With a sigh, Isagi sat down on a chair in his room, patting his pants with his hands
"It's just that this week has been absolute hell for me! I screw everything up everytime I try to practice for my date! The way things are going, she's going to hate it! I'm actually so scared right now you have no idea"
"I didn't remember telling you I could be your therapist" Chigiri smirked (what's with his friends always smirking at him??) "But if I coukd give my input in this, I'd say you just need to be yourself. Don't try to change. You're a nice guy, I'm sure she'll like the date"
"That... actually helped. Thank you Chigiri."
"You're welcome."
Wow. Things were going great for once. Nothing bad had happened! Maybe it meant that his luck was back, and the date was going to actually go as planeed!
"Uhm... Chigiri. There's hair in my nose"
"Just brush it off"
"I'm scared to move"
"Why? Just take it off"
"If I don't move, nothing can go wrong"
"Ugh, I'll take it off for you, you traumatized coward"
Yoichi discovered something today: his nose is very sensible. He just wishes he had discovered it in a different way.
*ATCHOO*
"Fuck."
"What? Is it over?"
"I'm done here. I did my work." Chigiri said in a hurry, packing his things quickly and then leaving. But before he stepped out the door, he shouted "I'd suggest you look at the mirror" he then smiled worriedly and shut the door
"Look in the mirror? What does he even mean...?"
When Isagi saw the hole in his hair, he let out a scream the whole neighbourhood heard.
The third day before the date was spent solving the hair issue
2 days before the date
"I don't have clothes."
"What do you mean you don't have clothes? What about all of these T-shirts on the floor?"
"None of them are good enough!" Isagi shouted
"I think you're too worried about this date" Hiori commented "Everything will go just fine, don't worry"
"Yeah! You just have to act as yourself!" Bachira added "If she accepted to go out with you, it means she already likes you, even if just a little!"
"I don't know, I think I might just cancel it. I think I'm too plain and boring for her?? I don't really know it anymore, man."
"There's NO WAY you're going to cancel it" Hiori said. With a jump, he got up from Isagi's bed, held his shoulders ans shook them while he spoke to him "Listen here tou little shit: I will NOT tolerate your endless rambling about her anymore. You finally got a date with her and want to throw it all away because of some senseless insecurity?? She accepted because she already likes you, Isagi. You don't need a whole new personality, new looks or anything. Just go as yourself. I can't take you talking about how you wish you were her boyfriend and all the things you want to do with her. Just grow a pair of balls and go to that date, goddamit!"
A gentle silence settled on the room
"He's right, you know?" Bachira broke the silence, unusually serious "You don't need to be Otoya, Reo or Karasu to make her like you. Just do what you'd normally do. I'm sure she'll like it"
"I think you guys are right" Isagi said, smiling "I'll just be myself!" He looked at the air and clenched his fist, doing a celebration and determined pose.
"Yeah!" Bachira hyped him up "That's the spirit! "
"Just drop the finger guns please" Hiori joked
"WHAT'S WRONG WITH MY FINGER GUNS??"
The day of the date.
He wasn't as nervous anymore. The talk with Hiori and Bachira really did help him, after all. He was actually determined.
You both were going to enjoy the date. He would make sure of it.
"Wow. You look beautiful" Isagi said, looking you up and down when he saw you at the restaurant. Turns out Reo's lesson was useless, since you both didn't share a car together.
"Thank you!" You said, giggling "You also look very handsome if I do say so myself!"
Isagi reached for the hand that was behind his back and pulled out a red rose
"For me?" You smiled, grabbed the rose and sniffled it. And oh, how he wished you'd smile only at him for the rest of his and your life. It made him feel even better knowing that he was the one who made you smile so brightly
He gently grabbed the flower from your hands and put it in your hair, putting a strand of your hair behind your ear in the process, careful to not let the thorns prickle you. He then smiled and grabbed your hands, looking you straight in the eye
"It reminded me of you, since you're both pretty"
Old habits die hard, they say. And so, even though everyone told him not to do it, he did it. The finger guns.
"I-it was cringy, wasn't it?" He said, nervous, when he saw you laughing at his (pathetic) attempt at flirting
"No it wasn't. I think it's kinda cute, actually" you linked both your arms together and smiled at him again (damn woman, did you want to kill him?) "Now let's go have the best date ever!"
You were perfect. And so, when you both entered the restaurant, there was only three things on Isagi's head, and he would make sure that all of them were going to happen.
Be yourself.
Enjoy.
Make her smile.
And so, you both went inside the restaurant, ready for fun and not knowing you'd get out with a new title that you would both proudly wear: "boyfriend and girlfriend".
~ A/N: Not proofread!! Also, I actually hate this sm omg
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foodiegoogie · 23 hours
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request for james potter x sunshine gf? like yapper x yapper <3
note: thank u for requesting my sanny angel <3 i was so excited to write this when i got ur req hehe :P thanks 4 being so patient as well !! hope u like this :P
paint me a picture
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james potter x fem!reader ✮ 2.2k cw/tags: established relationship, that ‘couple paints each other’ trend on tiktok, MOO DENG CAMEO, tooth-rutting fluff mayhaps? and a lil crack :>
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If you were ever put in a situation where you’re stuck in a room full of complete strangers, chances are that you’d strike up a conversation with one, two, or a handful of people no matter how off-putting they might seem as a stranger. You had a knack for talking people’s ears off, your mouth running faster than your brain ever did—spewing word after word before you could even finish your train of thought. 
Frankly speaking, you were well-aware that your talkativeness came across as annoying to most people. It was a hard pill for you to swallow, because you really, really liked to talk to people. You thrived in sharing your interests and whatever it was that came to your mind with other people. But the pressure was immense, and society—cruel, so you had to make do and shut your mouth if you could handle it. 
When you met James, however, it was like one of those cliché moments in movies—the ones about destiny and fate and soulmates. Because who knew that you’d find your match in being a chatterbox in someone as charming, and lovely as him? 
James Potter, in all his bumbling, comical, and boyish glory, did not stray away from you from the very first sign that gave away your talkative nature. 
And it appeared that he wasn’t planning on ever doing so in the near future. 
“Oh, but have you seen the one of her biting that zookeeper’s leg? She’s so adorable– I can’t!” You gushed as you filled in the gaps of James’ uncolored ears—the James in your portrait, not your actual James—with brush strokes of warm, chocolate brown paint.
The real-life James who sat across from you chuckled softly at your enthusiasm. “I know, right? She’s a little troublemaker, that one. I’d steal her away if I could.”
“Me too, me too,” Your vehement agreement amuses your boyfriend. “Gosh, what I wouldn’t give to have a hippo as a pet!”
James’ nose wrinkles, as if in distaste, at your statement. “Wouldn’t that be hard though? They’re always covered in mucus, and they’re always underwater. Hippos are a little high-maintenance if you really think about it.” 
“Respectfully, James, I never asked for your opinion.” 
James’ mouth hangs open in shock, his hand frozen as it holds a paintbrush in front of his own canvas of his portrait of you. 
“I can’t believe you’d say that to me,” He fakes a sob, shaking his head in disbelief. “I thought we had something special, love.” 
You sigh, going along with his act. “I’m sorry it had to come to this, Jamie. You know how I feel about pets.”
“So that’s just it, then? You’re leaving me for a hippopotamus?” James cracks his voice at the end of his lamenting, hand flying up to cover his mouth, suppressing his “sobs.”
It was getting admittedly hard for you to keep up the act, though. But you persevere.
“It’s nothing personal, James. I swear,” Your voice wavers at the end, the start of an uprising laughter in your throat.
“Do you, actually?” 
You count what seems to be like five seconds of you and your boyfriend just staring at each other. It was almost as if James was challenging you to break. Ironically, you were starting to think that you were going to. 
But then he beats you there as you watch his face split into a wide grin, his canines doing nothing to quell his boyish handsomeness. Your boy always looked good, but he looked especially nicer when he was happy, smiling. 
Laughing, too, most of all. James had the kind of laughter that sounded like a wind chime when a breeze passed by, making you feel light and floaty as if on a cloud. He also had the kind of laughter that you just couldn’t help but join in, and share the moment with him.
“Absolutely nothing,” was what he would say whenever you asked him what you wanted to do together. 
But if you asked him what you’d want to talk about? James would say, “Absolutely everything.”
“Now I can’t remember what I was supposed to do!” You exclaimed, your laughter dying down to soft, involuntary chuckles as the lighthearted air of James’ relentless quips lingers between you both. “If my portrait turns out wonky, I’m blaming you.”
James’ grin could only grow with pride. He always loved to make you laugh. “Hey, that’s not fair. I only asked if–”
“No, don’t start again!” You rushed to stop him, pursing your lips to contain yourself.
“I haven’t even said anything,” He beamed at you, unashamed of how cheeky he was being. 
“You were gonna!” 
Your boyfriend shakes his head resolutely, pushing his glasses up his nose with a careful finger. “No, I wasn’t!”
“Top ten things a liar would say.”
James scoffs, affronted. “Top ten things an unfair person would say.”
You tut, shaking your head disapprovingly. “You need to come up with your own comebacks, you know.”
“Well, hey– it’s not my fault I decided to date the loveliest, most creative, most swell girl ever in the entire world,” Your boyfriend reasons, his million-dollar smile ever present on his lips.
You feel your face grow warm by his words. Even after a year (and counting) of being with James romantically, you could never quite get used to his praising you. But that had been the deal—if you couldn’t get used to it, then he’d have to do it more often so that you would eventually get used to it.
So, you clear your throat, returning your attention back to the task at hand: painting a portrait of your boyfriend. James can see right through your feigned indifference, but mirrors your actions with his own painting. 
“‘Swell?’” You place the finishing touches of your painting of James on your canvas. There’s colours of red, brown, orange, yellow, and all its shades from the most subtle to the most vibrant. You’re not really a painter, you’re more of an appreciator of paintings. But you hoped that the message would get through to your boyfriend—to you, he was love and warmth personified. 
He shrugs in response, eyes glimmering with mirth as he works on his own portrait of you. You couldn’t help but wonder what he had drawn and painted of you. The anticipation was high. “Yeah, you’re swell.” 
“Where’d you get that from?” 
“Er,” James scratches behind his ear with his free hand. “Sirius.”
You couldn’t help but smile. “I knew it.” 
Your boyfriend spares you a glance over his canvas, and you meet eyes with your smiles mirroring each other. James hears you snicker as you turn back to your painting, and the dimples in his cheeks deepen.
“Alright, I think… I’m done,” You lean back against your chair, observing your portrait of James with criticising eyes—though not necessarily criticising the muse of your painting, but rather the painting you’d done yourself. 
Real-life James from across you makes a humming sound. “I think… I am, too.” 
“So, who’s going first?” The pair of you chorus, then laugh.
“Ladies first?” Your boyfriend asked.
You consider it for a moment, eyes never leaving your painting as you continue to observe it. You were afraid of mucking it up further than how messy it looked now to you, so you refrain from making any more adjustments. 
“Uh… no. I think it’s best if you go first,” A rueful smile graces your lips. 
James sighs, and you just know he’s downplaying his own efforts before the painting is even shown to you. “Alright, then. Here we–”
“—Also because I think we should save the best for last,” You rushed to say, unable to resist the opportunity to tease him.
Your boyfriend’s eyes go comically wide, and as you do your evil cackling, he scoffs indignantly. “I see how it is. Well, feast your eyes upon my greatest creation of all time–!”
James grabs his canvas by the sides with careful hands, then flips it around so the front of his painting is finally facing you. 
Behind the canvas, the artist—your boy—has his gaze fixed on your face, waiting for any sign of a reaction. In truth, he’d be devastated if you didn’t crack a smile or gasp! “This is amazing, James! I love you with my whole heart!” 
But he’s also aware that he wasn’t Van Gogh or Picasso, so he should be cutting himself some slack. But damn it all if he doesn’t get your stamp of approval on his painting of you—the most beautiful work of art he’s ever seen. 
Said “beautiful work of art he’s ever seen” now sits across from him, rendered speechless—which was out of the ordinary, so you had James worried. You did expect something “humble” to come out of his work, something worth placing in the Louvre museum that would rival the Mona Lisa, and something you’d both argue over like, “James, this is amazing!” and he’d respond, “Nah, I could do better.” 
Well, your expectations were met, but they had exceeded you by a lot. A lot, a lot. 
The background of the portrait is painted in a pastel, sky blue colour, adorned with symmetrically shaped clouds in white. And there’s that sun in the corner of the canvas, a smiley face drawn on it, too—a staple in a child’s painting. 
But it didn’t stop there; alongside the clouds were some painted flowers. There were daisies, your favourite. Tulips, also your favourite. There were little bees and butterflies and hearts all around, there was so much going on in the background of the painting that you didn’t know which to pay attention to.
Though you did know, realistically, which to pay attention to. It wasn’t in the birds and the bees painted haphazardly across the background—in the middle of the painting was a rather messier variant of you. You in your candid, cozy glory, donning your jumper. The curve of your jaw, the size of your eyes. James had managed to capture you in your likeness. You could see yourself in the painting. 
Most of all, however, you’re speechless of the fact he’d managed to capture you beautifully. Have you always looked like this to him? Is this what he sees every time he looks at you? Is this what he sees now as he looks at you?
“Erm, do you–“ James clears his throat, his fingers drumming against the sides of his canvas as he held it up in front of you. He was anxious because you still hadn’t shown any reaction whatsoever in the span of half a minute. “is it that bad?” 
A lighthearted jest. Probably to dissuade the brewing anxiety in his mind from your lack of a reaction. His leg was already starting to bounce restlessly from under the table. He’s thankful that you’re unable to see that, at least. 
“‘Bad?’” 
“Yes, ‘bad.’” A beat passes. “Is it?” 
You shake your head at once, having gathered your bearings after all. A smile slowly starts to make its way onto your face. “It’s not bad. Not at all, James, this is–“ 
James doesn’t know what to do now, if he’s being honest. He wishes you could just come out and say it in his face that he was a trash painter, and that his portrait belonged in the dumps. He’d rather that than wait in agony—
“It’s so nice,” You finally manage to say, your voice dripping with fondness for him. His heart skips a beat at the sight of your smile—all sweet and pretty and lovely, so lovely. So loving. 
“Really?” James gains a smidge of his confidence back with your reactions. “You like it?” 
“Like it? I love it!” You abandon your chair, rounding the table to tackle him into a hug, planting a loud smack of a kiss on his cheek. “You made me look so pretty! Best boyfriend ever!” 
Said boyfriend feels like he could melt in your arms right now, but he returns your affections by tightening his own arms around your waist, pulling you down so that you sit on his lap. 
“‘Best boyfriend ever?’ Now that’s a title I can get behind,” He chuckles, grinning widely up at you as you did the same at him. Two birds of a feather, their love mirrored in one another’s eyes, and hearts. 
Long story short, when you show your portrait to James, he makes sure to let you know that he loves it. Absolutely, indubitably adores it. He declares that he’ll frame it and hang it up in his room. He’ll contact local historians to let them know that, “Hey, I think we’ve got another revolutionary artist in our time and it’s my girl.” 
(He also makes a few comments of how you “didn’t quite get his nose right” and how “his hair looked exaggerated in your painting” and that that was “hair-racist.” What?)
At the very end of your date night, the pair of you decide to paint another picture—a third to add to your collection—but this time around, it included the two of you, with a grubby look of a house beside you both, three other little people, some dogs here, some cats there, and then some. 
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ty for reading \( ̄︶ ̄*\)) likes, replies, n reblogs r always appreciated !! <3
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fandomxo00 · 2 days
Text
Cowboy like me - Logan Howlett fanfiction
Request: Could I request farmer old logan x pregnant young reader (like the photos of him picking up flowers in the field) Yn was a snooty and spoiled city girl but she fell in love with Logan during her vacation and ran away with him. With a lot of breeding kink, lactance kink and DomLogan, subreader
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Note: Not into lactation kink but I love the rest!! omg i love old logan/slash hugh with a beard, getting dirty dirty thoughts grrr, smut and fluff below! farmer!logan x citygirl!reader
You sat on the outside as the sun came over the one of the further hills of grass. Your feet on the ground, slowly rocking the porch swing as you breathed in that fresh breeze. You saw Logan from afar, he was working in the barn this morning as he did every morning. Then he'd be out in the field for some of the day, but he wasn't the main owner of the land and wasn't the only employee.
Logan knew that he slowly dying, and that continuing to fight would wound up in his death. That maybe he'd have a chance of living longer if he backed away. So, he went out to find an old friend, giving him a plot of land to build a house on. The labor was hard for him but nowhere near gunshot wounds. Logan focused on the animals he was raising, learning about going out into the field. He had taken to the farmer life literally and he thinks that farming was the reason he was alive right now. He'd even traded whiskey for coffee, only having a drink on occasion. There wasn't as much out of a need for it, there was less pain that he had to numb. Though the loneliness started creeping up on him in the last year or so, thinking of meeting someone to settle down with. Even in his old age, deep down he had always wanted a family.
Then his friend went out of town, wanting to set up their house as an air b'n'b whatever the fuck that meant. That's when he met you, the first day you stayed you called about the wifi password. He wasn't sure what it was, but he was going to come over to help look for the box since his neighbor wasn't replying to his texts. When he showed up and saw a b m w he was slightly confused, before slightly irritated at the idea of this being some obnoxious city girl.
When he opened the door all the thought was, "Pretty." Feel from his lips as his cheeks heated up like he was a boy with a crush. That's what he felt like when he wanted a shiver roll up your spine as you blushed.
"Actually it's Y/n." You laughed. "Are you---?"
"Logan, yeah." He nodded, as you stepped back and invited him in. Logan's eyes widened when he saw the bags placed all over the living room. "Did you need any help with those?"
"Nah, I got it." You shrugged.
"Anyway, gotta find the wifi box." Logan hummed, as you nodded.
You had offered him some tea afterwards, he had politely accepted, intrigue by you. The two of you got to talking and wound up having dinner together. It was slow in the very beginning, though you'd talked into the late night neither one of you made a move. Though both of you grew fond of each other in the small amount of time. Logan's heart was open right now, and it seemed like you wanted to take it. He'd come over the next day with a basket of eggs, milk, bread and jam.
"Did you bake this?" You asked, inviting him inside. Logan cleared his throat as he nodded, while walking inside. "The jam-."
"That was from the local market in town." Logan confirmed as you hummed.
"This was very sweet of you."
"No problem, doll." He grinned over at you, crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes lingered on his, the feeling making his heart accelerates as he spoke to you. Logan's eyes trailing to your lips, before he asked you to go on a walk with him before dinner tonight. You'd come out in a beautiful white dress, and boots. He smirked over at you, "Maybe you should change your shoes."
"Oh, I'll be fine. I have to walk around the city all the time!" You smiled over at him, as you lightly waved your hand at him.
Though 15 mintues into the walk you hit a rather muddy spot, something Logan suspecting happening. "Um, can you pick me up?"
"What now?"
"I don't wanna do this." You pouted. "My shoes are all muddy and keep sticking to the ground. And M'so upset that my favorite boots were ruined just because i wanted to impr-." You felt a flush come over your body, whether it was visible or not, you felt heat on your chest, cheeks and the tips of your ears.
"I was gonna say yes the first time, princess."
"Why don't you call me that while you carry me back to your house." You suggested, pointing over at his house that was just across the way. Closer than your house was at this point. Logan's arm wrapped around your legs and waist, making you squeal as he picked you up, giggly, while looking up into his soft hazel eyes. Your hand naturally coming up to his cheek, feeling the wirey hair of his beard beneath your fingers. Logan's arms tightened around you as he walked out of the bed, the cowboy boots he was wearing making it far easier for him. He tried not to drop you at the way you were looking at him, nearly made his knees weak.
When you got back to his house, you slipped out of your boots before following Logan inside "M cold." Logan walked over to the couch, grabbing a blanket and he thought about tossing it over to you. But instead, he walked over to you, shaking the flannel blanket out before wrapping it around your shoulders. Your bright eyes looked up at him, making his jaw clench as he kept his hands on the bed of your blanket. You licked your lips before leaning forward to kiss him, his lips met yours in a feather-like kiss. Hesitancy in both of you, from a slow blossoming friendship that was real hiding the real romantic tension between the two of you. Your hands come to the blanket, pulling it tight as you lean into Logan's chest, his hands moving up to your head, flattening his hands against your hair as his lips interlocked with yours in slow thoughtful kisses.
"You do this to impress all the girls?" You asked, as he chuckled against your lips.
"Whatta mean?" He husked, looking down into your eyes as playful grin spread across your face.
"The whole basket, going on a walk, charming the pants off of girls."
"Haven't done this in a long while, doll. To be frank, I'm trying to settle down, live out the rest of my life in peace and-then you walk into my life all sweet eyes and strong-willed." His hands move to hold up the blanket around your hips as you let go to put your hands on his chest. You felt the hard muscle under your hands, your eyes gleaming up at him with want and adoration.
"You asking me to settle down with you?" You laughed.
"No, but I'm saying I want something serious."
"Well I could look forward to that." You grinned, your hands trailing over his strong stomach.
"How about." Logan started, starting to back you up until you hit the table with an 'oompf'. "You sit and be a good girl."
"W-what?" You blushed.
"Can I taste your sweet little pussy?" Logan hummed, dipping his head into your neck as his deep voice tumbled through you.
"Y-yeah." You murmured, as he pushed you back on the table, the blanket falling around your body as his hands came the hem of your pants. Logan tugged them down swiftly, along with your panties, before spreading your legs out. He got down on his knees as his hands came to your ass. Pulling your cunt to his face so he could dive his mouth into you. "Fuck." You gasped, your hand coming to his hair to balance yourself, the feeling of his rough beard rubbing against your inner folds made you slicker.
"Taste so fucking good." Logan grunted, spitting on your sex, his thumb coming up to rub at your clit. His lips found your inner thighs, his salt and pepper beard creating a little rash against your skin as he sucked marks into your skin. His fingers dipping into your entrance, your slick coding his fingers as he slowly pulled them out to see your translucent arousal covering his index and middle finger. "Can't wait to feel you wrapped around my cock." Your walls fluttered around his fingers as your hips relaxed in his palm, his hips rutted into the air. "You like that? Like imagining me inside you? Breeding your little cunt?"
"Logan-." You moaned, arching your back as the hand resting on your hip moved to cup over your breast.
"Sound so fucking pretty." Logan groaned the vibrations rumbling through you as you started feeling an orgasm well up in your stomach. The way his finger curled inside of you, rubbing the spongy part of you made you crumble while his tongue swirled around your clit. "Good girl." He hummed, his mouth coming down to your slit, licking up your come with a slurp before pulling back. Logan's large hand splayed out on your forehead, pushing back your hair roughly as your hand came to his belt. Your hands were quick before pushing his jeans back. Logan's hands came down to his briefs to pull them down before coming to lift your shirt over your head, not giving you time to see him. But then your eyes landed on his proud erection, his cock thick, veiny and pulsating. The idea of him filling you made your thighs clench together, you bet he'd hit every little place. Your hands reaching back to unclasp your bra as you fantaized about him.
The look in your eyes at Logan in a trance before he grabbed on to your roughly. Gasping as he filled you, before fucking you to the point where you saw stars. Claiming you with his words, his mouth on your skin and his cock bruising your cervix. "Gonna fill you with my cum baby, give you my babies." You moaned out at that, the sound long and wanton making him move faster and harder against you. "Fucking keep you fucked and bred."
"Yes-Logan fuck." You chanted.
tags: @jessjessmarvelandhp @chronicallybubbly @delicateholland @bubblegumholland @mega-kittyglitter-1
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yellowjestertfs · 2 days
Text
Agents of Change
My submission to @occamstfs 2000 follower viral writing contest. A million congrats to @occamstfs for the achievement, and a million more thanks for the help in editing this story.
Not quite my usual story but pretty happy with how it turned out. Also make sure to check out the other amazing authors participating in this contest as well.
As an elite member of the Secret Service, Whitman was prepared for an endless number of threats. He could disarm an attacker in seconds, spot gunmen from a hundred feet away, even disable a bomb with one foot while blindfolded upside down. What he wasn’t prepared for was pretty boys.
"Sir,” Brella, the youngest and only woman in his detail, said, her voice raised slightly in alarm as she pointed out the five men heading toward them in the hall.
“I see them,” Whitman said, placing a hand on his taser and standing up to his full five ten of hight in an attempt to look intimidating. The men were not outright threatening; dressed in too small suits, they could easily be young aides or politicians, if not for the fact that they looked wrong.
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Well, that is not exactly true; what really set Whitman off was the fact that they looked perfect—too perfect, like supermodels mixed with superheroes. It wasn’t that Washington didn't have its fair share of handsome fellas. Rather to the contrary, Whitman had known plenty of young senators or lobbyists who used their good looks as an advantage in their careers. None, however, looked like these men. 
They strode forward purposefully down the hallway, feet landing and lifting with perfect synchronicity.
Each of them was tall and broad, with strong muscular legs that bulged against their suit pants, although not quite as much as the bulges in their crotches. Their waists were trim and tight, tapering out to wide shoulders and strong arms. And then there were their faces. 
Though each differed in hairstyle and facial features, they all possessed the same quality to their face. Something about the cut of the jaw or the glint of the eyes made them undeniably linked. Beauty to the point of uncanny.
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“Excuse me, sirs. This is a restricted zone; I am going to have to ask you to turn around.” Whitman called out, though the men were still at least 70 feet away. 
The horde of men continued to stride forward, though the one in the lead responded. In a polite but slightly monotone voice, “We are allowed to be here; we have a meeting with the president.” He said face, adopting a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
Whitman tightened his hand on his taser. He knew for a fact these pretty boys didn't have any such meeting scheduled. He found it strange and troubling that that excuse had gotten them this far. Confusing and deeply suspicious. “The president is busy right now. You really should stop walking and tell me how you got in here.” The men kept walking forward, now only thirty feet from Whitman, and his team, posed outside the president’s office. 
“Bret and Berry let us in.” The man said, invoking the name of the secret service agents who watched the door to the hallway. Hearing the names jogged something in Whitman’s head—a fact right in front of him he had somehow missed. He heard his second in command Santiago let out a gasp behind him as he reached a similar conclusion. Two of the men flanking the leader bore a striking resemblance to the agents, only with faces more handsome and bodies more muscular. It was as if those agents had been remade in the image of conventional beauty standard, smooth and unnaturally symmetrical. In addition Bret now had a short beard that suited his dark eyes. While Berry’s hair had been combed and bleached into a thick blond swoop, which complemented his square face, and each man had gained at least fifty pounds of muscle and half a foot in height. 
“Stop right there,” Whitman yelled, losing any semblance of politeness. By now, the men were only ten feet away. Whitman removed his taser from his holster and pointed it at the man in the lead. Behind him, his agents did the same. 
“I assure you we mean no harm. Put down your weapons.” The man in the lead said, his voice intelligent and charismatic but with a hint of something alien in his words. He took another step, and Whitman fired. 
Small metal wires sprung out, latching onto the suit of the man in the lead. The taser in his hand bucked as it sent wave after wave of electricity into the man's body. When he was in the army Whitman had been tased as part of his training. They were the worst five seconds of his life as his every cell was violently electrocuted and he convulsed on the floor. The man in the lead didn't break a stride, seeming more annoyed by the hole the gun left in his suit than the electricity. Whitman watched as Brella and Cameron fired their taser into two of the other men who had similarly lack of response. 
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Santiago, seeing the ineffectualness of the weapon, brought out his gun and pointed it at the leader. Whitman always preached avoiding lethal harm as often as possible; but the rapid escalation of the situation surely called for it. In a blur, the man in the lead rushed forward. Whitman could only feel the air kicked up by him as he rushed past and grabbed Santiago’s wrist with one hand, shoved it and the gun upwards towards the ceiling. Cameron reached for his own gun, but Bret and Berry rushed forward to stop him while another man grabbed Brella from behind and put a hand over her mouth. Whitman found himself backing up, physically blocking the door to the Oval Office with his body as his agents were incapacitated before him. 
These men moved faster than humanly possible and were far stronger as well, but Whitman was not defenseless. The last unoccupied man lunged for him, but Whitman managed to sidestep right at the last second, causing the man to lose his balance. Whitman took advantage of this and grabbed him in a headlock, pulling his gun out, and placing it to the man's temple.
Brella screamed something, but the sound was muffled by the hand over her mouth. Santiago’s arm was still in the grasp of the man in the lead, but oddly enough he seemed not to be struggling, instead staring straight ahead at the ceiling with a glazed look. Even more strangely, Cameron now faced away from Whitman, locked in the tight embrace with the man who resembled Berry. Whitman’s eyes went wide as he realized the two were kissing. He was even more startled to realize that Bret was unbuttoning Cameron's white button-down shirt from behind, running his hands over Cameron's now bare lower back.
Whitman couldn’t understand what was happening. His brain, grounded so long in the mundane, couldn’t process the unexplainable happening occurring before his eyes. Santiago's wrist and hand were jerking. No, not jerking, shifting, growing larger, bone pushed outwards as skin tightened, veins slowly rose to the surface. His fingernails straightened into perfect uniform cuticles, and his knuckles became rough and bony and distinctly masculine. His once slender wrist thickened, while his forearm muscles swelled, pushing against the skin with newfound strength as more veins and dark brown hair sprang to the surface like rivers and trees. 
Whitman watched dumbly as the changes quickly grew past Santiago's elbow, onto his upper arm, which grew muscular and brawny, and eventually up to his shoulder, which widened and rounded with new muscle. 
Cameron, from his own embrace, let out low guttural noises of pleasure. He shifted, revealing the side of his face. It looked almost as if Cameron now had a birthmark around his lips. The skin had the skin was slightly darker and completely unblemished. The change spread from around his lips in all directions like a flame in a field. As it went, it changed not just his skin but the landscape of his face, tightening his jaw, nose growing slightly, cheeks becoming high and prominent, and all the while leaving numerous small light brown hairs on his chin and cheeks to form perfectly groomed stubble. His brows became thicker, forehead lost its wrinkles, eyes narrowed and turned a deep shade of green the color of rusty copper. 
As this happened, Bret managed to remove Cameron's suit jacket and shirt from his body. He wrapped his arms around Cameron's torso, rubbing his hands over Cameron's slight belly and hairy chest. Everywhere Bret touched changed rapidly, stomach giving way to tight abs with cut obliques. Bret placed his hands over both Cameron's nipples, and under his hands, pecs grew in for him to cup. His back also shifted as the changes spread, muscles tightening and skin became just as hairless and poreless as on his face. Cameron began to gyrate his hips back into Bret's groin as his moans became louder.
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All of this happened in a matter of seconds. Brella was unaffected at least, as she continued to struggle against her attacker. “Stop whatever you're doing or he gets it.” Whitman barked, tightening his headlock on the man he had subdued and jamming his gun further into the man's head.
The one who had grabbed Santiago, the leader, turned to face Whitman. He dropped Santiago's wrist, which instantly fell to his side, slack. The alien changes had spread over his chest, down his torso, and into his other arm. Whitman watched as the changes crept up his neck, thickening as it grew a more prominent Adam's apple. Despite being free, Santiago stood there limply, gun clattering to the floor next to him. The leader took a step towards Whitman. The two men locked eyes. For a moment, he felt an understanding between him and the leader. This man was a killer bee, with drones at his command and yet also supremely dangerous in his own right. Whitman was a bear though, he would do anything to protect his charge, and he had a taste for honey.
The leader raised his hands in surrender, and Whitman smiled coldly. Then he felt a hand wrap around his bare ankle underneath his pant leg. Instant sensations overwhelmed him. Shock, lust, horror—his hormones became an unstable cocktail as sensations wracked his body. From the location of the touch, he felt a deep biting cold; the places where his captor’s fingers touched were suddenly plunged into an Antarctic snowbank. Whitman kicked his leg, breaking his captive’s grip on his leg, but the cold feeling remained. He tried to fire his gun, but his hands began to shake so violently that it dropped from his grip. He looked up and saw the leader had closed the distance to him in a second so that their faces were now inches away. Whitman thought he was going to kiss him as Barry had to Cameron. But instead, the leader whispered in Whitman's ear, so close that Whitman could smell the mint on his breath and feel the hot air on his cheek. “Stop fighting. Enjoy it. Soon we will be one.”
Whitman tried to say something, but only a croak came out. He fell to his knees, then fully to the floor as the burning cold spot on his ankle pulsed rhythmically. Whitman could only watch as the leader and the man who should have been his  captive walked over to Whitman's agents. The changes had fully spread across Santiago's face, giving him a handsome look somehow that shared the uncanny similarity to his attackers. Through his clothes, Whitman couldn’t tell how far the changes had reached on Santiago's lower body, but judging by the large bulge pushing out his pants in the front and the even larger butt pushing out from the back, they were spreading rapidly.
Cameron seemed even further along. His entire body and face were completely changed. He had become a brute of a man, with a tall hulking frame on trunks for legs, a creature of power. His face looked the same way; it shared the other's beauty but had a more square, simple cast to it that made him look halfway between a prince and a caveman. He no longer stared blankly at his head but sneered intimidatingly. He and the leader approached Brella, tying a rope around her arms and legs and putting a gag into her mouth. She looked desperately to Whitman or Santiago for help, but both were just as powerless as she was.
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Whitman watched as Santiago’s foot expanded, toes growing and curling in his now too-small shoes. As the last part of his body changed, Santiago looked up from his trance and light returned to his eyes. Whitman tried to signal for him to grab the fallen gun, but instead, Santiago moved to stand by the leader's side. Now a group of seven, numbers bolstered by two of his own, the men walked past a helpless Whitman and into the door to the Oval Office that Whitman had failed in his mission to guard.
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The changes spread down Whitman’s ankle into his foot and up to his knee. He found with alarm that he was unable to move those parts of his body, like they had been calcified in stone. With his arms he crawled forward gaining a view into the office. His discarded gun lay a few feet before him. He tried to crawl some more but found the activity becoming more and more taxing.
Inside the office, chaos had erupted. The four secret service agents Whitman had assigned to stay inside the office had heard the commotion outside and were ready with guns drawn. Even so, they were not fast enough. Four of the men, including Santiago, raced blindingly fast toward the men and incapacitated them in seconds; their touch began the changes on those agents that Whitman was currently experiencing. 
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The Secretary of Agriculture, Packson Jackson, a little man who the president had been meeting with, tried to stop the intruders, physically placing his body in front of the president. Cameron stepped forward and lifted the man into the air with one hand as effortlessly as if he were a toy. Jackson flailed in Cameron’s grasp, feet kicking harmlessly into the air. Cameron brought his hand up to hover just above Jackson’s face. The meek man shied away, closing his eyes tight in anticipation. He opened his mouth to say something but was cut off as Cameron from above spit down into his mouth, then shoved his thumb between the secretary’s lips. Jackson looked horrified for a second, then a glazed appearance came over his eyes, and he began sucking furiously on the finger as his face started to transform from the inside out. 
Whitman struggled forward. The changes had spread up one leg into his hips and down the other. In the wake of the changes, Whitman's sturdy thigh had become a cut cascade of muscle, thick and hairy and made for pushing mountains instead of walking briskly down White House hallways. His hips spasmed uncontrollably as round mounds emerged to form a tight shelf on his butt, the movement forcing his dick into the ground repeatedly. His penis felt strange, growing erect, then warm, then pricked with hundreds of pleasurable tingles as his dick and balls swelled larger. The haze of sensations creating an overwhelming fogging on his brain became twinged by acute and powerful horniness. 
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The president, watching his secret service taken out so easily, raised his hand in defeat. He addressed the leader of the group, who leaned against the doorframe casually.
“I surrender.” He said in his signature southern drawl, giving a disarming smile. “Whatever your grudge is, it's with me, not these people.” He gestured to the secret service agents in various phases of transformation. “Release them and you can kill me, I won’t fight.”
“Kill you?” The leader asked from the doorframe. His voice was deep and hypnotic, with that same twinge of distance from before as if he were detached from the events happening around him. He rushed forward in a blur so that he was only inches away from the president. To Whitman's relief, his hands stayed by his side. “I’m afraid you misunderstand, Mr. President, we are here to give you a gift.”
With herculean effort, Whitman stretched out his arm far enough for his fingers to brush against the handle of the fallen gun. By now the changes had overtaken his other leg and moved onto his torso, which slimed into sleek abs. His head was on fire, every neuron on full tilt; he could barely keep up with the events happening in front of him, and in the back of his mind, he felt something—a new presence knocking on his proverbial mental door.
The president looked down at the Secretary convulsing on the floor in front of him. Already the changes had elongated Packson body significantly and beefed up his slender frame with significant muscle. “I don’t want your gift.” He glanced at Whitman, struggling on the floor for a gun, and knew he needed to buy time. “Let's talk about what you want—money, power, favors. I can do all three if you release these innocent men.”
The leader seemed willing to take the bait. “I sometimes forget how petty and simple men can be.” He said it in a thoughtful retrospective manner, looking the president up and down from his head-higher of vantage. “We are not apes to be so easily swayed from our course by the carnal; we are oneness, brotherhood, fraternity, true revelation. You will soon understand”
Whitman's flailing hand seized the gun. The changes had reached his chest, which now hovered several inches off the ground on pillowy muscular pecs. His shoulders locked up as the changes reached them. As he took aim with the gun the changes continued down his arm, leaving a round bicep/tricep combo and locking his elbow in place. 
Something about the way the leader spoke, about the lofty collective tone. It felt dangerous, otherworldly, and distinctly familiar. The intruder in the back of his mind spoke similarly; it urged him to put down the gun and to join it in its mission of conversion, of domination. 
Whitman blocked it out. He felt the changes spread up his neck, up his jaw, and over his mouth, removing any power he might have had to make a sound. He felt a strange prickle on his face as a thick, well-groomed beard grew in. An exhalation from his straightening nose tickled his new mustache hair. As the changes passed his eyes, he could feel them start to physically alter his brain, making him more malleable and honing him for whatever purpose these changes, this being, meant for him.
Even stranger he felt a connection start to emerge in his consciousness to the other affected men in the room. He could feel their thoughts, their emotions, and their misgivings. 
The leader stepped forward to grab the president's bare flesh. The president flinched back. Whitman could feel the leader's thoughts through the new bond and knew he intended to grab with the right hand and lunge with his whole body. Whitman's wrist and palm were no longer his, fully transformed; it didn't matter. He still had his fingers and just enough of himself left to pull the trigger. 
The leader, or rather the entity inside the leader, felt Whitman's actions as he did them. He was fast, but the bullet was faster. In the split second the entity inside the leader made itself physical to infect the president with his touch Whitman shot. The bullet sailed right into its eldritch form, just between the leader's body and the president, and out the other side. 
The entity led out an ungodly, inhuman, nail on a chalkboard screech, and then it was gone. All around the destroyed office, men woke up as if from a dream, eyes fluttering rapidly and looking around at the carnage they had only passengers to. Cameron looked down at his gargantuan body with shock, while Jackson groaned and picked himself off the floor unsteadily, his body now a foot taller and 100 pounds heavier.
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 From the hallway, Brella moaned through her gag. Santiago suddenly himself again, although now with a model's face and a bodybuilder frame, went to untie her sheepishly. Whitman lay on the floor, profoundly exhausted and overwhelmed. 
“Can I shake your hand?” A voice said from above him. Whitman looked up to see the president smiling down at him. That managed to rouse him, and he slowly got to his feet. Every part of his body, save the very tip of his middle fingers, had been transformed. His tailored suit now looked pathetically small on his thick muscular frame, and his face felt wider, more masculine, his jaw jutting outward strongly as if he could chew rocks like gum. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, of his body becoming this new foreign perfect thing. Whitman didn't know how he was going to even start explaining this to his husband or stepkids. 
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Now however, he had other concerns. The president stuck out his hand for Whitman to shake, and god damn it if Whitman didn't deserve it. He clasped the other man's hand, meaty fingers, and palm enveloping the leader’s, and shook vigorously with the strength afforded by his new beefy arm. 
The president gave a brief look of shock, and Whitman feared he didn't yet know his own strength. Then he felt something strange. The president's grip tightened, and his fingers started to move in the handshake; no, they started to grow, his hand becoming just as meaty and masculine as Whitman now was. 
The president dropped the handshake and raised his hand to his face, admiring the now smooth tan hand, powerful and devoid of any wrinkles. Both men waited for the changes to spread down his wrist or for the president's eyes to glaze over, but nothing happened. 
“I am so sorry, Mr. President. I will submit myself to quarantine immediately.”
“Oh, hush.” The president said, waving his new hand dismissively. He flexed it appreciatively, admiring the strength and lack of wrinkles “I think this could help me quite a bit in New Hampshire.” He unbuttoned the sleeves of his shirt and rolled it up to reveal his forearm. “Do the rest of me, then I will get you in touch with the generals.”
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