#top ten old ass white men of all time.

[one-nation-under-todd]

i am a simple demigirl. i see an image of roger allen powell of utopia fame i go apeshit. completely bananas

[scuttling]

Long Time Coming

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 6,664 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad Bod Hotch, Oblivious Hotch, Flirting, Reader has a few one night stands, Semi-public sex, Unprotected sex, Blow jobs/Face fucking, Hairpulling, Fingering, Praise and degradation, Dirty talk, Accidental reveal of feelings, TW blood/cut Summary: You have been in lust (and love) with Aaron for a while, but his new look sends you off the deep end, and it's enough to make you do some pretty crazy things. *Inspired by @ssamorganhotchner and these three pics. Link to A03 or read below! You are fresh off yet another unsuccessful first date when Aaron wears the new suit. You, Emily, JJ, and Penelope are standing by the coffee maker, complaining about the pitfalls of online dating and how people are never they way they seem when you actually meet in person; you have the carafe in your hand, filling your mug, and when he walks in, face in a case file, his pants so tight you can make out his hips and thighs as clearly as if he were naked… You kind of lose your shit. And your grip.

The carafe shatters when it hits the tile floor, spraying shards of glass and hot coffee everywhere; Emily gasps, Penelope jumps back to avoid the splatter, JJ runs for a broom, and you just stand there, staring at Aaron—at his tight slacks, at his belt, at his shirt, tucked neatly inside, then at his dangling tie, and finally, his worried face.

“Are you alright?” he asks, because you have literally not moved a muscle since he arrived; your boots are covered in coffee—you are thankful you dressed casually today and aren’t wearing heels, or you’d be in a lot of pain—and your heart is racing, but otherwise you feel frozen, unable to move or look away.

You’ve wanted Aaron for a long time, and everyone knows it but him. It’s part of the reason you’re smothering yourself with online hookups and blind dates and one night stands: because he is off limits, and you’re desperately horny for him, and you need to have him fucked out of your mind one way or another.

The new suit further complicates things.

“Fine,” you say after a few more seconds, and JJ comes back with the broom and dustpan, so you bend down to help her clean up your mess. It wasn’t your brightest idea, because you are now at eye level with the tight crotch of his pants, and all you can think of is working the zipper open, pulling him carefully past the fly, sucking him off until those big hands slip into your hair and tug roughly when he comes.

God. You’re going to have to go on another bad date. Or ten.

“New suit?” Penelope asks conversationally, as if you aren’t having a sexual crisis about it three feet away. “Looks good, boss.” Aaron runs his hand down his body self-consciously, but all you see are thick fingers and stomach and hnnngg…

JJ pinches the back of your arm hard, makes a face that screams get it together!!, and you take a deep breath.

“I took some of my old ones in for alterations and the salesman convinced me they were severely outdated. Do you like this style better?”

For some reason, it feels like he’s looking right at you, and you nod, dreamy-eyed, sweep your tongue over your lips.

“Better,” you rasp, and Emily and Penelope agree, probably to take the emphasis off of your slack mouth and dopey one-word answers. You try to help JJ clean up, picking up the larger pieces of glass and dropping them into the dustpan despite her protests—because you are very unfocused, shouldn’t be messing with sharp objects—and when you cut your finger on a piece, she just sighs. Such a mom.

You wince, and Aaron frowns, comes toward you, putting you not only at dick height, but a manageable dick distance, if you were so inclined; really, it’s more if he were so inclined, because you are actually fully prepared to swallow his load right here in front of your friends—all he’d have to do would be snap his fingers and point to his crotch, and the FBI would be suing you for mental distress and using the money to pay for therapy for Emily, Penelope, and JJ.

“Let’s get this cleaned up,” he says, snapping you out of your very elaborate fantasy (typically your fantasies don’t involve court costs, but this is Aaron, so anything is possible.) He wraps his hand around your injured finger and pulls you up to standing with the other, and you just follow along as he leads you over to the sink, turns on the tap to let the water run over your cut. The way you’re looking up at him like he’s the best thing you’ve ever seen has to be painfully obvious, but he just reaches over for the first aid kit, takes out a bandage, and wraps it carefully around the tip of your finger. You sigh.

It may have started out as lust, but you’re pretty sure you’re also in love.

You have got to find a way to get him to notice you as more than just an agent, a teammate, a friend, and so: Operation ‘Get Hotch Out Of His Tight Pants’ begins. You fill the girls in on your master plan, and they fill in Derek and Spencer just so there are more people to laugh at you when you crash and burn, probably. But you’ve got a plan, will be pulling out all the stops, so you might not fail horribly after all. Hopefully.

God, you absolutely cannot fail. You can’t go out with another software engineer with the personality of a peanut or another investment banker who thinks buying you an appetizer means you owe him a blow job in the front seat of his Tesla. You will go fucking insane.

Today’s plan is T for tits, because yours are pretty awesome and almost no one who is attracted to women can resist them. You wear your usual white button down top, but you leave the top two buttons undone, and you add a red, lacy bra for a little additional temptation.

“Here are those consults you asked for,” you say after knocking lightly on the doorframe; Aaron waves you inside. You set them down on his desk, then glance over the open folder in front of him, make a curious noise. “What are you working on up here?”

You walk around his desk, so you’re standing next to him, and lean forward to look over the case file with one hand on the back of his chair and the other pressed against the desk. If he would look over, he would see right down your top, your breasts high and smushed together thanks to the lacy push up… but he looks straight down at the file, taps his pen against it.

“Murders in Detroit. I don’t think we’ll go—they look like mob hits to me, so I’m going to refer the case to Organized Crime.” You hum, turn the file toward you and lean in a little closer, letting your hair spill over your shoulder, the neck of your blouse fall open. Boobs and perfume are usually a one-two punch that is capable of bringing any man to his knees, and while he does turn to look at you, it feels entirely too respectful for your liking. You sigh softly, give up for today, and turn the file back.

“Well you know best, boss. Any time I don’t have to go to Detroit is alright by me.” You flash him a smile, and he reciprocates, and you head back downstairs for a cup of coffee and maybe a stale shame pastry.

The team looks up at you when you approach, and you shake your head.

“No luck,” you mutter, and Derek laughs, crosses his arms over his chest.

“Maybe you’re not very good at flirting. What did you do?” You roll your eyes—your flirting is not the problem, it’s Aaron’s morals and manners or whatever—and walk over to Spencer’s desk, demonstrate with him what you did to Aaron; you put your hand on the back of his chair, toss your hair over your shoulder, lean in, and Spencer swallows hard, licks his lips, and looks abruptly down at his hands. That reaction, you would have gladly taken.

Derek clears his throat, and so does Emily. Hmm.

“I’m good at flirting,” you say, straightening up; Spencer is blushing, and it’s super cute, so you pat him lightly on the head. “Maybe he’s an ass man. I’ll wear a skirt tomorrow and we’ll see if that gets the job done.”

“Good idea,” Derek says, and when you walk past him, he gives you a once over that makes you feel pretty damn good. “In the meantime, why don’t you come and demonstrate on me?”

There’s no denying he is one of the finest men you’ve ever seen in your life, and earlier on in your career you might have taken him up on it—it would have to be better than Marty McTesla, that’s a given—but you know he’s mostly teasing, even if there is a thin layer of actual desire beneath it all. You just fluff your hair and take your seat and mentally flip through your closet to try to come up with an outfit Aaron can’t refuse. You decide on a pencil skirt, because that’s got to be every boss's fantasy, right? You have one you never wear to the office because it’s a little sexy, tight on your hips and ass, with a zipper up the back that you can open a little and use to your advantage. When you walk into the bullpen that morning, JJ whistles, and you grin, do a little twirl.

“Thank you, thank you. This has to work, right?” You turn to face Emily, then turn away from Emily, butt right in her face. “Emily? This will work, right?”

“That’s... definitely going to work,” she murmurs, tapping the cap of her pen against her teeth, and you have to admit you have a good feeling about this one. For as great as breasts are, your ass is your best asset, and if the open top and red bra didn’t work, this has to be your ticket to some sweet, dirty loving, it just has to.

You all head up for the morning meeting, filing into the briefing room, and you give Aaron a soft greeting and a smile just like every day, and then offer to help him pass out whatever stack of papers he’s holding in his hands—fire drills and emergency protocol, or something boring like that. He accepts the help, and you take the fliers, but instead of walking around and handing them to each member of the team like he would, you bend over the table, reach across, and drop the pages in front of everyone.

JJ is the furthest away, and you practically have to climb onto the table to reach her; you grin and wink when she takes the papers out of your hand, and she shakes her head like you’re too much, but when you stand back up to hand Aaron the extras, he doesn’t seem the slightest bit interested.

He thanks you for your help, and you take your seat and listen to him go on about emergency exits and fire extinguishers and seriously start to contemplate moving to Europe to start a new life, or something else equally dramatic.

Because you don’t give up easily, you orchestrate one more attempt to get him to show some interest in you. You know he usually goes downstairs to the cafeteria for lunch, and that the elevator is a jam-packed nightmare because the main stairwell is currently under construction (which is probably why you needed to go over safety protocol, now that you think about it; shutting down the stairwell seems very unsafe.) You usually pack your lunch, but you can go buy an overpriced salad for the sake of your sex drive, so you wait for the elevator when he does, making small talk about your mornings until it dings and arrives on your floor.

He tries to let you in first, gentleman that he is, but that won’t work with your plan, so you insist, earning eye rolls from the other passengers on the elevator. You give Amy from Forensic Accounting a dirty look and then step in after him, lean back against him because there’s really no fucking room to even take a breath.

He’s taller than you, but with heels on your ass still fits pretty nicely against his thighs; a little too nicely, you think, as you get wet just from standing near him in the elevator, the heat of his body through your skirt. You really are a mess.

There are two more floors to go before the cafeteria, and no one gets off, but more people manage to cram into the elevator, which means you press more tightly against him to make room. Someone bumps into you roughly, which makes you unsteady on your feet; Aaron puts his hands low on your hips to keep you from wobbling, and your eyes literally roll back in your head, but he just leans in to mutter, “sorry” into your ear. You say nothing, because you’d probably moan if you opened your mouth, but you shake your head so he knows it’s not a problem.

When everyone gets off downstairs, you hurry to the restroom and don’t look back, turn on the faucet and splash some cold water against your overheated neck and chest. So much for that plan. All you managed to do was work yourself up into a fury.

While you’re in line to pay for your overpriced salad, you open up your dating app and secure yourself drinks with a hot lawyer for tonight. Seduction is clearly not working with Aaron, he’s clearly not interested, and you have to find a way to move on before you have a spontaneous workplace orgasm and get fired from the job you love—all of his tight new suits have been dark so far, but if he shows up in gray, you’re not going to have the will to survive anymore. You have to plan for the worst.

The lawyer is nice enough, but he’s too short, too thin; it’s hard to imagine Aaron’s body weight on top of you when he’s fucking you, but you’re nothing if not resourceful, so you move your hands to his head of thick, dark hair and focus on that—that, and his hot breath against your throat when he comes a little too soon and mutters “sorry” into your ear.

“It’s okay,” you pant, reaching between you to rub your clit. You close your eyes, tip your head back, clench around him; you imagine it’s Aaron inside you instead, and bury your face in his shoulder when you come.

He’s willing to stay, but you explain why it’s better if he leaves, and then you fall back into bed, fumble for your vibrator, and get off again so you’re not too distracted by reality to really enjoy your fantasy.

It’s a little twisted, but it is what it is. You’re standing in the breakroom a few days later, swiping through the dating app and bullshitting with Derek and Penelope, when this guy pops up on your screen. He’s not your usual type, younger and blonder than you prefer these days, a pilot, but something about his profile makes you pause; when it hits you, you blow out a breath and look up at your friends.

“So you guys know Operation ‘Get Hotch Out Of His Tight Pants’ is officially dead in the water,” you begin, and they nod, “and now I’m focusing my energy on trying to get over him. I went on a date with a guy that kind of looked like him, and that didn’t really help, but what if…” You turn your screen to face them; Derek nods like it might be crazy enough to work, but Penelope grimaces.

“No, I don’t think that’s going to work. It might actually be crossing a line,” she says with a frown, and you look to Derek for his input.

“It’s more of a coincidence than anything, right? It’s not like he’s unattractive and this is the only reason you’re going out with him. He’s a good looking guy,” he admits, and you’re really grateful he’s willing to help you rationalize this probably terrible idea into a potentially decent idea.

You send the pilot a message, and he wants to meet up; he suggests a bar near the both of you, and you know it’s risky, but you tell him you happen to make a great gin and tonic and that you have everything you need at home, if he’d like to meet you there instead.

He does, and you don’t even make him that drink, just take off his clothes, get him into your bed.

“That’s right, babe—wanna hear you lose it for me. Say my name, gorgeous,” he groans, fingers digging into your hips as he fucks you from behind, and you close your eyes, fist your hands in the sheets, and give him what he wants.

“Oh, fuck, Aaron. Fuck me harder.” His thrusts are already rough and punishing, but this is the best you’ve felt in a really long time, so you’re eager, desperate for more. “Yeah, Aaron, just like that.”

“Tell me my big cock feels so good in your pussy.” He slaps your ass, and you moan involuntarily, press back against him, panting.

“Your big cock feels so good, Aaron, so good in my pussy. Fuck me, Aaron, destroy me.” He grunts, tenses, and moves his hands to your shoulders, slamming your body tight against his as he comes. “Yes, don’t stop, Aaron, don’t stop,” you plead, hips working together, and when he smacks your ass again you come gasping his name, collapsing against the bed with a breathless sigh.

You feel a lot dirtier than you expected you would, even though it was kind of awesome, and ultimately Penelope was right; it was fun while it lasted, but it didn’t do a damn thing to help you forget about the only Aaron you actually want in your bed. Monday morning, Aaron comes into the office wearing a tight navy suit with a striped white shirt and a navy tie, and you follow him with your eyes from the glass double doors all the way up to his office, mouth open a little. Your eyes get heavy and your breathing picks up, which is the dumbest biological reaction to a man’s ass you’ve ever had—but god, it’s a perfect ass—and JJ has to actually lightly slap your cheek to get you to snap the fuck out of it.

“Are you horny right now?” she asks, a little grossed out. “I can’t handle you.”

“I know you guys all call him a tightass, but I mean, if the pants fit… and god, do they fit.” You pick up a case file and fan yourself with it. “He’s so fucking hot. What am I supposed to do? Getting railed by fake Aaron didn’t do shit; I think I might actually have to transfer.”

“You’re not transferring. You just have to get over it.”

“Are you kidding? She’s like a cat in heat when he’s around,” Derek says with a smirk. “I think I’m getting horny just because she’s horny.”

“Okay, so why can’t I have that effect on him?” you ask with your arms open. “Do you think it’s the pheromones? Maybe they’re incompatible. Smell me—does it turn you on?” you ask Spencer, presenting your neck, and he looks like a deer in the headlights, then leans in to sniff you.

“Uh… you smell nice?” he says with a shrug and a half smile. “I think it’s just your perfume, though.”

“Put your face near her boobs,” Derek says, and Spencer starts to lean in again. “I think the pheromones are stronger there.” He pauses about halfway to your chest.

“Actually, they’re stronger near the genitals, but I don’t think that’s appropriate.”

“What’s going on down there?” You freeze and then turn to look up at Aaron’s office, where he leans against the doorframe; Spencer stands up comically fast, and you take a step back, clearing your throat. Aaron’s scowling—it’s really sexy and it’s making your heart beat in your stupid, traitor pussy—and then he sighs visibly. “We have a case, come on.”

The case is only a half hour away, so you drive, which is horrible, because you are with Aaron and Derek, and Derek lets you sit in the front just to watch you squirm.

It gets bad before you even pull out of the parking garage, because Aaron puts his hand on the back of your headrest to look behind him and reverse the SUV, and you look over at his body—his stomach, his lap, his thighs—and then quickly face forward when he puts the car into drive. You’re flushed, breathing heavily, and when he looks you over quizzically, asks if you’re alright, you just clear your throat and nod.

“Allergies,” Derek supplies from the back, and you mentally thank him for the save, but you kind of also want to smack him for putting you in this position in the first place.

You’re practically turned on the entire ride, even as you go over the details of the case, because his legs are spread and your eyes keep moving to his crotch; at one point, you think you notice his already unfairly tight pants getting a little tighter, but it’s just a trick of light.

By the time you arrive at the precinct, you are more than ready for fresh air, to put some distance between yourself and Aaron. You’re out of the car almost as soon as he turns off the engine, which probably looks weird as hell, but for your sanity you can’t give it too much thought.

The head detective and a junior detective give you a run down on the case while the other half of your team meets with officers at the crime scene. The head detective, a tall, handsome man in his forties, is looking at you like you’re a juicy steak and he hasn’t eaten in months; Derek notices, turns to you with a raised eyebrow and mouths ‘pheromones,’ Aaron is clearly unhappy about the detective’s lack of professionalism, and you couldn’t really care less about the attention. You just want to do your job and go home and touch yourself to thoughts of your boss… as one does.

The local police already have a board made up, so the three of you travel to speak with some witnesses, head back to the precinct, work the tip lines. Aaron seems to be looking at you more than usual, and when you get up to stretch your legs, he’s right behind you, following you out into the hall.

“Are you sure you're alright today?” he asks with a serious expression, hands on his hips. Your mouth waters. “You’ve been acting a little strange.”

“Stranger than normal?” You try to smile, to lighten the mood, but as oblivious as he’s been about everything else, he’s always been able to tell when you try to hide your emotions with humor.

“The last couple weeks? Yes.” He moves a little closer, and you try your best not to let it affect you—or at least not to let it show when it does. “You know by now that you can come to me anytime, for anything.” He doesn’t present it as a question, but it’s clear on his face that he’s looking for an answer.

“I know. I’m going through something… stupid,” you say with a shrug. “Something I should be able to handle, but it’s harder than I imagined.” He frowns, flicks his eyes over your face.

“Let me help you.”

“You can’t; trust me, you can’t,” you say, pleading with your voice, begging him to drop it. “I’ll get through it.” You shut your eyes briefly, exhale, and he reaches down to take one of your hands in his.

“Are you in trouble?” This is the most intimately he’s ever touched you, and it’s not just your body that sings; you know you’re in love with him, have been for a while, but focusing on the horny feelings is easier. It makes it feel like you have less to lose.

“No, it’s nothing like that. I just need some time. Thank you.” You squeeze his hand, and then Derek pokes his head into the hall behind him.

“We got a tip about the unsub barricading a house downtown; the detective is mobilizing SWAT,” he says; when he glances down at your hands, you pull yours softly out of Aaron’s grasp.

“What do you want us to do, boss?” you ask, effectively ending your conversation, and he tells you to get suited up with comms and Kevlar so the three of you can head to the new scene. Aaron is, unsurprisingly, a complete badass, storming the house along with SWAT, you at his side; it’s his way of reminding you that he trusts you, that it can and should go both ways—he is so perfectly predictable, reassuring with gestures over words even in a situation like this one. It does nothing to help you stop wanting him.

He’s a little rough with the unsub (and that doesn’t help either,) looks ruffled and kind of pissed when you climb in the SUV to head back to the precinct. Spencer, JJ, and Emily meet you there, and you take the opportunity to vent about how indescribably good Aaron has looked all day—Spencer bows out of the conversation early, but JJ and Emily are kind enough to listen to your insane, horny ramblings.

“He’s just so hot—he always has been, but the new suits? They’re so tight, and his shirts show off his tummy, and his pants show off his thighs… You guys will never understand the things I want to do to him.”

“Okay, he’s handsome enough, but you’re nasty about it—I can’t handle you,” JJ says, not for the first time. You groan in response.

“How can you say that? Have you fucking seen him? I’m not supposed to think nasty thoughts when he walks around looking like that?”

You feel yourself getting a little out of hand, and Emily and JJ look like they’re trying to shut you up, but you can’t stop yourself. It’s like the floodgates have opened.

“He’s never going to know what I want to do to him… what I want him to do to me. I tried so hard, and he didn’t even look at me. All I wanted to do was get on my knees for him and grab his ass so he could fuck my throat as hard as fucking possible—is that so much to ask for?” You pause, but neither of them say anything, just look scandalized. “I guess I’m going to have to name my vibrator Hotch now, since that’s clearly the closest I’ll ever get to him giving me an orgasm.”

“Do you really mean that?”

You jump a fucking foot, spin around, almost knocking Emily and JJ over in the process; Aaron is in front of you, his brow furrowed, arms crossed over his vest (he hasn’t taken that thing off yet? You threw yours on the table like the minute you got back), and your mouth opens and your eyes close at the same time.

Oh fucking fuck.

“We’re gonna… go,” Emily says awkwardly, and you open your eyes abruptly when Aaron speaks again.

“No, we’re going to go; come with me,” he tells you, and he turns and heads down the hall; you look back at Emily and JJ, swallow hard, and follow him, your heart beating fast.

He steps into a small room with a copy machine, table, shelves of paper and envelopes and other supplies, and closes the door behind you, engages the lock. You are torn between being very worried he’s going to fire you and super turned on, because this is definitely a fantasy you’ve had before.

“Aaron,” you begin, running a hand through your hair. “I’m sorry. I think it was the adrenaline; it makes me run my mouth and I can’t stop it, you know that.” He’s facing away from you, his hands on his hips again, and you can see the way his body moves when he sighs.

“Did you mean it, though?” When he turns to look at you, he doesn’t look angry, he looks… nervous. “Do you want me?” His reaction is unexpected—not great, but not necessarily bad—and you bite your lip, nod.

“Yeah. So fucking bad. And I’m sorry—” That’s as far into your apology as you get before his mouth is on yours, his hands on your face, lips pressing against you for a rough, eager kiss. Your hands move to his waist, pulling him closer by the vest, and he lifts you up onto the table, tugs down the v-neck of your t-shirt, mouths at your throat.

“You think I didn’t look at you?” he says when he pulls away for a breath, tipping your chin down so you’ll look into his eyes. “You think I didn’t see that lacy red bra, your perfect ass bent over in the tight skirt? You think I didn’t feel it pressed against me in the elevator, that I didn’t want to push that skirt up and sink inside you and take you there in front of everyone?”

You moan, chest heaving, twist your fingers in his hair and pull him in for another kiss, dripping and trembling at his admission.

“I would have let you,” you murmur against his lips, and there’s no doubt in your mind that you would have, if that’s what he’d wanted. “I would let you do anything: not just let you, but I’d want it, beg for it. I meant what I said—I’d get on my knees for you, anytime, anywhere, do whatever you want me to do. I want to be yours.”

He catches your mouth in another rough kiss, then puts his hands on your waist, guides you off the table, and flips open his belt, the fly of his pants.

“Oh god. What are you doing?” you ask, and he slides down his zipper, pulls you with him until his back hits the door.

“I’m giving you what you asked for,” he rasps, staring into your eyes, his gaze smoldering. It’s so fucking hot your pussy clenches.

You lick your lips, drop to your knees on the tile floor so hard it hurts, tug his pants open and pull out his thick, hard, veiny cock.

Your dreams and fantasies did not do it justice.

“Fuck. Thank you,” you mumble, looking up at him, and he wraps his hands in your hair, pulls tightly. You moan just from that and the heft of him in your hand. “Thank you.”

“Shh.” He scrapes his fingers over your scalp, hums as you start stroking him, licking the head. “Don’t thank me—I should be thanking you, beautiful, perfect girl. In what world do I get this?” There are lots of things you want to say to that, but you’ve waited long enough, will have to say them later.

You lick your lips, collect lots of saliva, and take him into your mouth, get your hands on his ass and dig your nails in. Aaron groans, tightens his fingers in your hair, and when you look up at him it feels like a fever dream, like it’s not real but a delicious figment of your imagination.

For a minute or two, you stroke him with a tight, wet mouth, and it’s got you aching between your legs, but he’s supposed to be fucking your throat, technically, if he’s giving you what you asked for. You pull off, tell him that, and he tugs your head back roughly, guides you back onto his cock and starts thrusting into your mouth, earning vibrating moans around it.

“God, you’re so perfect. How long have you been thinking about this? How long have you touched yourself to the thought of me fucking your pretty face?” He picks up the pace, pushes deeper when he sees you can handle it, and you squeeze his ass, feel your eyelids flutter as he uses your mouth, pulls your hair. “Are you a whore for me?” he grinds out, and the moan that rips from your throat is inhuman, embarrassing, and absolutely accurate. “Yes you are, baby, yes you are. My pretty whore, on your knees, mouth stretched wide and filled with cock.”

You’ve never been so turned on from a blow job, but this is Aaron, hot and dirty and forceful, everything you imagined and more. You squeeze him tighter, encourage rougher treatment, and he presses his hands against the back for your head, slams his dick in so deep it aches; you don’t gag, but it’s a near thing, and when he pulls you off you gasp for breath and whimper at the loss at the same time.

“Enough of that, baby. You were perfect, so good for me, almost choking on my cock, but I bet your pussy is wet and aching. Do you want me inside it?”

“Holy—yes, fuck, please. Please,” you breathe, and he helps you to your feet and then pushes you against the door, gets your pants down. His rough treatment has you whining, gripping the hair on the back of his head, and you kick off your boots and socks so you can step out of your pants completely. “Keep all this on,” you tell him, pants and shirt and tie and Kevlar vest and all, and he nods, kisses you deeply, presses two fingers inside you.

“Fuck,” he groans when you receive him easily, soft and wet and open, and he uses his free hand to sweep down your top, slipping the buttons loose so he can get a better view of your tits and black lace bra that’s holding them. “So beautiful, and finally mine,” he mutters against your throat, and you whine, let your head fall back against the door, and give in to the pleasure of his thick fingers moving inside you.

“Finally mine,” you murmur, tugging his hair, slamming down against his hand, and when you come it’s like a miracle; you cry out, clamp down, and wrap your free hand around his bicep and squeeze until you’re lightheaded, dazed, desperate for another.

You kiss, deep and passionate and filthy, and Aaron slides his fingers into your mouth, pumps them a few times, then kisses you again.

“Good girl. Are you ready for my cock now?” You pant, gasp, and nod your head, and he pushes your shirt off your shoulders, lifts your legs so you’ll wrap them around his waist, and pushes inside you. You both moan, kiss, moan again, and then you wrap your arms around his broad back, hook your fingers in his vest, and hold on while he pounds your body roughly against the door.

“Oh, Aaron, fuck. Yeah. Want you to slam your body against mine; want to feel it, want to feel all of you.” He looks into your eyes, breathing hard, fucks up into you, hands on your ass, his hips and torso pinning you in place.

“Sweet, pretty, slutty girl,” he pants, spreading you open and shoving himself inside your pussy. “You tried tempting me, and oh, did it work. I might not have shown it…” He ducks in to kiss the base of your throat and you cling tighter, rock against his hips. “But it worked. You dressed like a whore just for me, just so I’d notice you; do you I know went home and stroked my cock and came with your name on my lips?”

“Holy shit. That’s so hot.” You move a hand to his hair again, can’t not thread your fingers there now that it’s allowed. “Could have fucked me like this then. Could have come in my pussy, not your hand.”

“We’ll make up for lost time,” he promises, and he thrusts up with his whole body, so you can feel it pressed against yours—shoulders, chest, stomach, all the very best parts of him. “I’m not too much for you? Can you take it?”

“Perfect for me,” you gasp, holding tightly to his vest at his shoulder and his shirt at his hip, bouncing into his thrusts. “So perfect, want you. I can take it. I can take it, Aaron.” Your mouths meet for a messy, hot kiss, lots of tongue, and you groan. “Give it to me, give it all to me.”

He bends his knees a little more, fucks you so rough and hard your mouth falls open and all you can do is whimper, clutch him, gracelessly kiss back when he presses his lips to yours.

He comes first, holds tightly to your hip and pumps inside you, fills you and then some, so it drips out while he’s still inside. It feels sinful, even after everything, and with a few rough drags of his palm over your lace covered nipple, you tighten and grip him and gasp out his name.

You both slow, and then he turns you, leans back against the door for a little relief after holding you up for so long. He nuzzles into your hair, and you bury your face in his neck, and you kiss soft and sweet until you’re feeling stable enough to hop out of his arms and put your clothes back on. He rights his as well, and when you’re both put together he wraps you up in a hug, kisses you, holds you with soft hands on your cheeks.

“I really have waited so long for this.” He brushes his lips over yours, and you sigh. “You never indicated… I was trying to be professional. Then out of nowhere you were leaning over my desk and bending over the table, and I was a little blown away.” You nod, can see that, pull him down for a kiss.

“It’s the goddamn suits,” you say with a half smile, and he gives you a curious look. “Your new, better fitting suits? They fit you so fucking well it’s almost illegal; I’m thinking of pursuing charges against your tailor for reckless endangerment on behalf of my libido, and the coffee carafe, and my poor, worn out vibrator.” He chuckles, hugs you closer, squeezes you so tightly against his body you almost pass out from all the good things you feel.

“Maybe we can strike a deal,” he murmurs, pushing your hair back behind your ear, and you bite your lip, nod.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’ll think of something you can do to make it worth my while.” After a little more hugging and kissing, the two of you figure it’s time to emerge from the supply closet; you don’t see your team anywhere, which surprises you, but when you get to your phone and pull up your texts, it all makes sense.

Derek: Congrats on the sex. The four of us headed home because no one wants to ride with the two of you and your pheromones.

Emily: Yay, you did it!! Drinks on me next time we go out!

JJ: You guys are loud; don’t make a habit of that.

Penelope: I hear congrats are in order! And by hear, I don’t mean hear. There’s NOT an audio clip or anything, so don’t worry about that!!

Spencer: Emily took an audio clip. Is it normal for girls to enjoy being called a whore? You don’t have to answer that.

You take a very deep breath, give him the gist of the messages—you’re on your own, they heard at least part of it, there is some potentially damning evidence that needs to be destroyed—and you leave the precinct to head home in a better mood than you’ve been in in a very long time.

Aaron takes you out for a late dinner, and he spends the night at your place, falls asleep warm and solid and very naked in the middle of your bed.

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner

[youryanderedaddy]

Love Fuel

Summary: You were Jason’s first love before you broke his heart and rejected him. It’s all your fault that he can’t move on.

Tw: female reader, obsessive behavior, incel behavior, nice guy behavior, self - hatred, threats of non-con, implied non - con, implied masturbation, bullying based on appearance (not reader), deregatory language, kidnapping, misogyny, generalizations, stalking

this is a hot mess but its 1 am and i am tired, ik that incels are bad irl (obviously), but this is fiction and I kinda wanted to explore the dynamic and shit. 

Everyone used to call him JJ or The-Big-Jay back in high school. Well, most of the time his classmates weren’t really calling out to him or even talking to him, the names were whispered behind his back, after he had just passed the hallway, or on bad days - right to his face. The jocks, these dumb motherfuckers, would beat him up, mock him for whatever stupid reasons they had chosen to use as an excuse to torment the smaller and weaker. The popular girls would giggle like brainless bimbos as Kyle or Brad or any other football player stole his glasses or continuously punched him in the guts until he threw up all over the floor. Even the nerds, the kids at the bottom of the school hierarchy, messed with Jason from time to time when they wanted to feel the oh - so desired rush of power they so rarely managed to experience. 

Looking back, Jason could see why his classmates hated him so much - he was everything that society deemed as wrong and unattractive. He was thin, pale, “scrawny” as the others called him, on the shorter side, and on top of that the teen was terribly shy and introverted, never having the guts to stand up to his bullies or even tell someone about the abuse. The male spent most of his free time at home, playing hours upon hours of video games, watching anime and reading books he was simply too young to understand or look critically at. As he grew older, the man began to view the world as it trully was - a dark, miserable place that ate up sore losers like him. Men were primitive and foolish, which somehow managed to soften their faults. Women, on the other hand, were  calculative and manipulative, greedy and sinful. His whole life they had done nothing but reject him when he needed love and support the most. Of course, there were many other reason why the brunette detested the weaker sex. In his eyes women were evil two - faced sluts, showing off their bodies yet acting innocent and hurt once someone finally decided to use them for the only thing they were actually good for.

But you Jason hated the most. You reminded him that no matter how much he hated the outside world, he would always hate himself the most. He had to admit you were pretty, painfully so, with a perfect little body to match your looks and a sweet sugary smile that almost deceived him years ago. As much as the man regretted his weakness, he had fallen right into your trap at the time.

You weren’t the most popular girl, but you had your fair share of friends, all nice and loyal like puppies. You weren’t the smartest either, but unlike the other stupid giggling sluts you always tried to do your best. You were beautiful just like them but you were actually kind to the pathetic bullied kid no one else bothered to acknowledge even existed outside of being a punching bag. You always asked him whether he was alright and often took him to the infirmary when he looked paler and sicker than usual. You talked to him as if he was a normal human being and despite the initial doubt, Jason appreciated it. 

It was the last day of your senior year when the teen finally gained the courage to confess. He was shaking the whole time and by the end of his little speech there were small tears in the corner of his eye. You were the first girl the male cared about, the first one to show him kindness, to offer him friendship without asking for something in return. You were the only one who could make him feel deserving of love, worthy of affection. And then you took it all away in a matter of seconds.

“I am sorry, bud.” You had said that day after giving him a  half - hearted hug and an apologetic smile, that started to seem more and more like a mocking grin the longer the teen started at you. “I already have a boyfriend, but I am really flattered. I am sure that you will find a lovely girl once you start college.” You had added quickly, cheerfully, rubbing the salt all over his wounds, honey dripping from your plump red lips. He had wanted to kiss them, bruise them, bite them until your stupid lying mouth was filled with blood. Obviously you didn’t have a boyfriend or he would have known by now, he stalked your social media religiously after all. Even if you had one, he probably treated you like shit. And how could you even suggest him finding another woman? As if he wanted any of the stupid money - grabbing sluts out there. As if some of them could replace you.

The boy was too furious to form a proper response besides “Fuck you, bitch”. His cheeks turned red and he didn’t realise that the bitter words had escaped his lips before he could stop them, then his legs took him far away from that shithole of a school. He didn’t manage to see your reaction before running away but it didn’t matter anymore. You were just like the others. 

***

That day Jason swore to show you just how small and insignificant you had made him feel. He wanted to see you crumble, cry and beg for forgiveness, desperate for his love but never good enough to get it. The man formed a plan to change himself and come back for you once he had erased each and every trace of his past. The brunette came to terms with his terrible social anxiety and decided that he needed to gain social abilities more than anything. That’s why, as much as he dreamt of working from home as a boring programmer with an even more boring, but flexible working schelude, the male chose to study something that involved a lot more human interactions. The next step was to hit the gym for the first time and get a monthly subscription. It wasn’t hard to see that females nowadays liked brain - dead athletes with defined jawline and cheekbones, toned chests and strong muscled bodies, so if he wanted to impress you, he had to look his best. It wasn’t easy at first - it felt like everyone in the fitness salon had their eyes on his weak frame, laughing and pointing their fingers at his imperfections, but things gradually got better as time went on. The trainings became easier to get through and from time to time they even helped the man forget about his loneliness and nihilism. 

Jason soon returned to his old habbit of spending hours looking through your accounts - Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, he knew all of your usernames, each post, every picture and text. He couldn’t believe how much of a desperate attention whore you had become over the years. The male remembered you in your long brown skirts, cozy sweatshirts and pure-white shirts, all the gray buttons closed to the very top, blushing, laughing, smiling like the adorable Goody-two-shoes you were. Now you were smirking seductively in every photo, overconfident and vibrant, flaunting your tits for every man to see and wearing tight little dresses that barelly covered your ass combined with heels so high and sharp they could be used as a weapon. You were such a stupid slut it was disgusting, and he couldn’t stop himself from jerking off every single time he saw your pretty little face on the screen. He wanted to cum down your throat so badly it was ridiculous, and even after knowing that you had probably already had hundreds of cocks shoved deep inside your pussy, the brunette still wished to see you split open on his, taking his lenght like a good little cocksleeve. 

***

The moment when he could see you again finally came. How many years had passed since graduation - five, ten, fifthteen? It hardly mattered. Jason was successful, at last. The male had his own business that was doing surprisingly well, there were some guys from the gym he could call friends and the best thing, he looked absolutely unrecognizable. There was nothing left of the tiny scrawny kid with quiet voice that everyone stepped over, he was now replaced by a strong capable man, determined to get what was rightfully his and his alone.

It wasn’t hard to find you since the brunette knew everything about you - where your job was, what time you finished, how long it took you to go home and what path you took. You lived alone and worked as a barista in a small local cafe even now that you had finished your studies in your dream faculty. Turns out the princess wasn’t so great and smart after all, having to resort to working a minimal - wage job day and night just to be able to pay her rent. Jason was absolutely delighted though, he loved your stupid dead - end job and your endless struggles to survive in the materialistic world honestly and fairly without selling yourself like a common whore. On one hand the male was happy that you had clung onto your last bit of innocence and on the other your pitiful lifestyle gave him the chance to snatch you away much easier. And that’s exactly what he did.

 ***

You woke up confused just like he had expected, bombarding him with questions, asking him who he was was, begging him to let you go, to at least explain what’s happening. You were so dumb, but God, you were still so pretty, if not prettier than before. You cried so beautifully when Jason told you you belonged to him now and you cried even more when he slammed his cold rough lips over yours in a deep wet kiss. You whimpered and whined while the male sucked on your lower lip and bit down, good, he wanted it to hurt. The stalker couldn’t wait to be inside you, he couldn’t hold back anymore. 

He climbed on top of you and pinned your wrists to the floor before tying them up with delicate red rope and tightening it. It wasn’t like the man was scared of you slipping away and hurting him, you were too weak and tiny to stand a chance against his years of power - lifting and muscle - training anyways, he just wanted you to be as uncomfortable and squirmish as possible. Your tormentor wished for you to be in worse pain than he had been during his youthful years, and he knew exactly what to do. Next thing you knew Jason had ripped your dress apart, leaving you vulnerable and exposed in just your plain old panties and bra. Cold shivers ran down your spine when the chilly air hit your naked flesh and you finally realized there wasn’t getting away from this. You had to stay there, limbs bound together, unable to move or fight back, the stranger’s hands caressing your neck before moving dangerously close to your clothed breasts. You felt so sick you were going to throw up for sure if your abductor didn’t step back so you decided to use your last resort.

“Jason, please stop!” You screamed out of the blue, forcing the brunette to freeze instantly at the use of his birth name. You had already called him a pervert and a psycho which didn’t seem to faze him, but the name clearly caught him off guard. This only seemed to prove your theory further - the man really was your former classmate, despite the only similarity between them being the dark distant look in his eyes. “I beg you, don’t hurt me!” You continued, hoping to at least buy yourself more time before the assault took place. 

He gulped loudly and stared at your quivering form. The impossible had happened, you had recognized him and now together with fear, there was also pity in your gaze, the one emotion your captor absolutely despised. You used to be the only one who pitied him, and even now that he was bigger, better and stronger than before, you still had the guts to pity him. It drove him insane but any attempt to hurt or touch you was fruitless now - your soft skin was suddenly burning his fingers like hellfire. 

“You must be thinking that I am a monster.” Jason started out dryly, chuckling bitterly, humorlessly even. He clenched his fists unconsciously and brought them to the floor in a fit of rage, missing your head by mere inches. Your heart was beating like crazy and you only hoped the mandman couldn’t hear it. “A freak.” The man spat out the word like it was a curse and for a split second his eyes softened before turning into two spinning torches. “Right?” You were sure that if looks could kill, his would have you dead by the end of the night so you quickly nodded your head no.

“You are lying to me again, pretty girl.” The brunette replied feisty, "pretty” rolling off his tongue like an insult. Then he broke into hoarse maniac laugher and lowered his head so his face leveled up with yours, so close you could feel his warm breath on your tear - stained cheek. “When I am done with you, you wouldn’t be so pretty anymore, darling.” Your captor growled and attacked your neck, sinking his teeth deep into the flesh. “You will see exaclty how ugly my love is.”

[imsadstuff]

Mr Min and I

Pairing | Yoongi x female reader

Part | I - Help me get my ducks in a row (I have been working corporate for way too long)

Genre | ceo! Yoongi, fluff mostly, Yoongi is bad at emotions and is a little intimidated by ___

Summary | the first year of working for Mr Min passes by pretty quickly, a quick friendship formed.

Word Count | 7.7k+

authors note | Hi guys, decided to revamp the first three parts into one. There will be two more parts, please look forward to them...

Find the series masterlist here

This was not a part of the five-year plan but against my rationale here I am sitting for an assistant's job. The hallways in the entertainment company are much sleeker than I expected, the modern design and the monochrome furniture is totally my style.

I turn around to look at other candidates, each woman looking prettier than me, which makes me wonder if I should have done anything more than sunscreen and a tight ponytail this morning. Usually, I would be nervous, but I don’t know how I feel about this job yet, hence no anxiety.

Soon, my number is called a middle aged man guiding me to a quiet conference room. Usually there is a hiring committee, but this time it’s just one man who’s too busy talking on the phone. Not interrupting him, I take a seat across trying to study him.

Of course I know who he is, I am not some idiot who’s going to sit for a job interview without researching the company. He’s Min Yoongi, founder and CEO of MYG Entertainment. Started the label with his star musician Jeon Jungkook five years ago. He’s twenty eight, he is also a music producer and now he’s staring at me very intently.

‘Ms. ____’ he says, reading my resume. I sit up straight, taking a big gulp, I nod hoping he gets it. ‘You graduated with a bachelors in finance, interned at companies I have no idea about, why here’ he asks, putting my resume down and leaning back in his chair.

‘Because MYG Entertainment is one of the leading players in changing the music market. You have star musicians under your belt, musicians who are trendsetters-’

‘I don’t want a brown nose around here because I’ve got enough of those here. Tell me, what is the actual reason’ he pushes me, his voice is a little too bold.

‘Because I’m 25, I graduated college five months ago and I desperately need a job. I worked hard during college bagging just the right internships, and working my ass off. But the job market is much more difficult to crack than I expected to.’ I tell him the truth and he flashes a small smirk.

‘You clearly don’t want the job’ he says leaning his elbows on the table. ‘No, that’s not true. I want this job, maybe this company wasn’t on my top ten list, scratch that top fifty list of places I wanted to work at. But, I am nothing but determined. I will put my 200% into anything you ask me to do. My networking skills are next level, I can get you anyone’s number in New York. I twist old-white men to get what I want’ I am really selling myself, I really need this.

‘You’re strange Ms. ___’ he confessed and I nodded. ‘That’s how I stand out Mr. Min’

‘This is the salary, perks, insurance, 401K, all that mumbo-jumbo. You start right now, you in’ he asks, pushing a few papers towards me and I forget to breathe for a while.

‘Yes, I’m in. 100%’ I nod with enthusiasm, my anxiety finally catching up.

Every second since we stepped out the conference room feels like a daze. He first takes me to his office, he shows me around a little, not really stopping anywhere. I’m shown my desk but before I can sit in it, he hands me a phone.

‘This is my phone, you’ll be answering my calls, scheduling meetings, just managing everything. People I’ve marked with a dot after their name, they’re the important ones. Any call or message from them is SOS, anyone else is your call.’ I scramble around so as to not drop his very damaged iPhone.

He leaves for a few seconds and my eyes wander around searching for something, anything. My desk is situated just parallel to his office, so the entire office has a complete view of me, and they all gawk as a sit there like a lost child.

Finding a diary, I take note of everything he’s already said. Soon someone from tech greets me, handing me an iPad and setting up my desktop. ‘Hey, I’m ___’ I greet the IT guy once he’s done.

‘Max’ he says, shaking my hand.

‘So, um. How many assistants has he had before me?’ I need to gauge how much work do I have cut out for me. ‘None’ wow I’m dealing with a new generation of tight ass. ‘Find me if you need some company for lunch’ he says flashing a smile and I do the same.

I sit anxiously, no work for twenty whole minutes. Setting up my email and everything went by much quicker than expected. The intercom on my desk rings and I gasp very loudly eventually picking up the phone.

‘In two minutes three investors are going to come in for a meeting. Bring me water bottles and coffee, also ten minutes into the meeting I need you to come and make some excuse to kick those boring fucks out. Got it’ Mr. Min says, looking directly at me through his open door.

‘Got it’ I answer and he turns around putting the phone down.

I set a timer as soon as three suit-clad men enter his office.I start googling excuses, I don’t want it to be too urgent nor do I want it to be too personal. The phone never stops ringing, taking some calls and notes, I look over at the clock seeing that the ten minutes are almost over.

Quietly opening the door, I pop my head in making direct eye contact with him.

‘Mr. Min, there's an emergency at Sage’s album shoot.’ I say in a clear loud voice. He smiles a little, putting on a serious facade immediately and standing up.

‘Gentle men, I would love to discuss ROI on those projects, but I feel like this issue is a little too pressing’ he picks up his jacket and phone. How many phones does he have?

‘Walk with me’ he instructs and I follow him as he walks to the elevator.

‘How did you come up with that?’ he questions pressing for the basement.

‘I heard people talking about the shoot in the break room while I was picking up the coffee, and I assumed album shoots are very important’ he gives me a very amused look but in my mind I’m patting my back for doing a good job.

‘I like you already’ he says tossing me I’m presuming car keys.

It had been four weeks of working at MYG and I was exhausted, but I liked being exhausted. It was friday and I finally have some control over his very busy schedule, he’s double booked for the next four years somehow. It’s almost 8 pm when Yoongi returns to the office, from a meeting with advertisers. He directly walks into his office before I can say anything. I’m too engrossed in rearranging his contacts when his fingers rap on my table.

‘You should go home’ he says, he came into the office this morning with a tie but it somehow disappeared.

‘Actually, I was waiting for you. We need to discuss next month's schedule and a few other things’ I can’t imagine how he was managing all of this all by himself.

‘Set yourself up in my office, I’ll steal some beer from the tech fridge’ he’s gone as quick as he comes in.

‘So shoot, what is the main agenda for the next month?’ he asks, entering the office sipping on some beer. And there isn’t a second bottle in his hand, so I guess I don’t get one.

‘I don’t want to overstep any boundaries here. But you need to delegate like, a lot. For example, Monday morning, 9 am, you have a meeting set up with distributors, 9:05 a meeting with the creative team to discuss album covers, 9:07 you have a conference call with a new signed artist, but you are going to be in the meeting with the distributes till at least 10:15 am. This doesn’t make sense’ I sigh a long exasperated breath, his schedule is very anxiety inducing. He’s sitting in front of me, the same stoic expression from the day he hired me.

‘I need a purview over all of that’ he takes a big swig, ‘Delegating doesn’t mean that you won’t have direct purview over all of this. You’ll be passively involved.’ I suggest and he nods.

‘Alright’ he agrees and I’m a little disappointed. ‘You agree this easily’ I question shutting off my iPad. ‘I was prepared to fight you more’ I joke and he smiles too.

‘You sound like you know this stuff, also I’m very sleep deprived to fight you on this’ he jokes and I lean over to take the bottle from his hand.

‘Let’s meet up for breakfast tomorrow, we’ll discuss your essentials and non-essentials. Come on, I’ll drop you off, you need to sleep’ I don’t wait for him to follow me.

‘You have weekends off?’ he questions, putting on his jacket.

‘Were you not in the room when I briefed you about the Monday meeting situation’ I joke, taking his car keys from his hands.

We are in for a long, grueling weekend. ‘So, I have been meaning to ask, seeing the mess that you are, why no assistant before me’ I question stopping below his building.

‘I didn’t have the time to hire one’ he says as I pull into the parking lot.

‘Get six hours of sleep, at least because you have a lot of hard decisions to make tomorrow’ I say handing him his car keys back.

He leaves with a simple bye but he’s soon shouting my name bringing me to a screeching halt.

‘Text me when you get home’ I really didn’t expect him to say that, he’s not a stone hearted per say, but he’s not especially the caring type either.

‘Can't have you be in danger when you’re finally helping me get my life together’ he jokes and I smile, of course that.

‘Got it’ I say, turning around and walking to the nearest metro station. I forgot how quiet New York is during the night. It’s nothing like the movies, it’s actually quite a depressing city sometimes. But at least, I had a meaningful day at work.

I have been around for over five months now, the chaos around Yoongi is still there, just very significantly less. He is still shuffling from one meeting to another conference call, putting out one fire after another. But today is a big day, Jeon Jungkook, the star of stars at MYG Entertainment is returning back to New York after a few months of hiatus. Yoongi had been preparing for his return for at least a month now, he’s got a tight plan and he’s excited about it.

‘So, I’ve blocked your complete day today. There is a list of things you need to run by him, and all of that has to be done today because the production staff is waiting for a go ahead from you’ I say handing him a list of activities he needs to run by Jungkook.

‘How about you sit in for the meeting?’ he suggests, he hasn’t asked me to do that before so this is new.

‘Will he need anything, coffee, tea, water-’ ‘Sour patch kids’ he answers and I make a weird face. He laughs nodding, ‘He’s quirky like that, but I would love an iced americano and maybe a bagel, I didn’t have any breakfast’ he says handing me his black american express.

Usually, I would get him his coffee from the office cafeteria but the coffee machine is broken so I guess I’m standing in line at a starbucks in the morning rush. A rush of cold air engulfs me as I step out, should have worn that jacket, but oh well.

Manhattan is what you expect it to be, inconsiderate jerks talking on the phone loudly, people power walking to work, almost everyone is dressed in greys, blues or blacks, occasional tourist group slowing down rest of the city, but it’s eclectic, it’s bright at times, and it can be depressing at times just like people, it moody and it changed itself.

I’m waiting in line to collect my order when I noticed my reflection. I had definitely changed over my time here. Everyone at MYG is always super sharply dressed so that’s what I did after I got my first salary. Nothing too flashy just picked up some simple pieces from TJ Max’s clearance sale, I had money but I was still frugal.

After the second month, I found a decent hairdresser. My long hair was definitely a chore in the morning so I cut it. The short bob turned out cuter than I expected, and everyone definitely noticed, especially Yoongi, but not in the ways I would like.

‘I don’t like it’ he expressed the minute I walked into his office with my new hair. I just stood dumbfounded, not really expecting that reaction.

‘Well, um, I don’t think it can be reversed-’ I had been feeling myself all day with the new change but one comment from him and it came crashing down.

‘I don’t like change’ he says in a matter of factly manner, didn’t know he had purview over how I cut my hair.

I notice that someone is already in Yoongi’s office when I arrive. Collecting the brand new packet of sour patch kids, I make my way in. My loud knocks are met with his equally loud ‘Come in’

I know how attractive Jeon Jungkook is, but he’s somehow better looking in person. I don’t let his very attractive smile go to my brain, handing Yoongi his coffee and Jungkook his sour patch kids. ‘I um, Mr Min told me you prefer this over coffee-’ ‘Thank you very much?’ he asks my name and I fill him up quickly ‘___’ Yoongi is definitely noticing the blubbering mess I am, so he decides to take over.

‘Jungkook we have a lot of work to get to. Let’s start with the album’ Yoongi eyes me as he starts, instructing me to take a seat beside him on the sofa. ‘Hyung what is the rush, introduce me to your very pretty assistant first’ Jungkook says, his legs crossing as he leans more comfortably in his seat. Jungkook is clearly pushing Yoongi’s buttons, very clear from the scowl on Yoongi’s face. ‘That is inappropriate and can we focus on work’ Yoongi says sitting up straight, his coffee long forgotten. ‘Sure, I can get to know Ms. ___ on my own time. What about the album, did you check the lyrics I sent you’ I get a whiplash from how fast Jungkook moves onto work, but I take diligent notes, not missing a word.

Two hours later and we have almost all the details down, I now understand why Yoongi and Jungkook work well together, they balance each other out, and they are much more compatible than it seems like. ‘Now that works out of the way, Ms. ___ wanna go to lunch, my treat’ Jungkook says as I’m arranging some paper work on Yoongi’s desk. Before I can say anything, Yoongi interrupts, ‘I have work that I need ___ for’ he says, getting back to his desk. ‘Hyung, it’ll be just an hour. I promise I won’t ask her out, yet’ Jungkook jokes and I’m not sure if he’s joking now. ‘Mr Jeon, how about you give me fifteen minutes and I’ll have everything settled here and then I’ll join you’ I say, taking back control. Yoongi gives me a pointed look as I continue arranging his paperwork.

‘I can decide who I have lunch with’ I snapped him out of it, seriousness evident in my voice.

‘These are the agreement documents for the new merch distributor. The lawyer has already given a go ahead on this, I’ve marked x whenever you need to sign. You don’t have any meeting for the rest of the day, but the music production team wanted a one on one with you, so I’ll schedule that. Anything else’ I ask, taking a step back. He nods no and I take my cue to leave.

Jungkook is talking to the new intern when I finally catch his attention. Excitedly he walks to me, ‘First of, no. You will not ask me out, not now, not ever’ Jungkook has an amused smile on his face as I talk.

‘Second, that intern is off limits, good interns are hard to find and she’s a gold mine’ I instruct as I walked out the building a second time today.

‘No third?’ he jokes as we wait for his car to come out. ‘No’

‘I get why he was praising you’ Jungkook mentions opening the door for me. It’s hard not to be surprised, Yoongi is not one to praise, or even say thank you sometimes.

The lunch surprised me. Jungkook drove us to a quiet diner when I was expecting a Michelin star restaurant, not that I am complaining because that burger was what dreams are made of. Jungkook is easy to talk to, like a friend you’ve known for a few years. He really set a bad rep during the meeting because he’s nothing but a gentleman during lunch, I might even enjoy his company in the future again.

‘Don’t mind Yoongi hyung, he can be grumpy sometimes, he’s very sexually frustrated’ Jungkook says as we walk out from the diner. I don’t really know how to respond to that.

‘He’s not that bad’ He really isn’t, he had his moments. Some days he’s like a ticking bomb waiting for one more thing to go wrong, some days he has his neutral face and everyone enjoys their peace and quiet.

‘I wish I could drive you back, but I have a photo shoot to get to’ I expected Jungkook to have a team of managers getting him places but this is a surprise. ‘Don’t worry about me. Should I get you a driver or something, do you really get yourself places’ I ask, with genuine curiosity.

‘I like driving myself, one of few normal things I get to do. I had a good time ___ we should do this again’ Jungkook offers and I nod. ‘I’m serious, it might come as a surprise but I don’t have a lot of friends’ Jungkook looks very normal right now in a simple t-shirt and jeans, and I keep forgetting that he’s mega famous. ‘Just call me and I’ll try and be there’ before Jungkook can bid a proper goodbye, I’m already sort-of running back to the office because of a text from Yoongi.

Mr. Min: Coffee, in ten

It’s one of those Mondays that just doesn’t seem to end, it’s 7 pm already but there is a mountain of work for me to climb. The couch in Yoongi’s office is looking like a very tempting place for me to take a nap, because the more time I spend on my desk the more work keeps piling. ‘Yoongi is out for a work dinner, he isn’t coming back to the office’ I tell myself as I enter his office. ‘He is enjoying a steak dinner, you get to enjoy a ten minute nap’ I reason with my rational as I make myself comfortable on the couch. I don’t know how Yoongi is going to feel about my bare feet being on his very expensive couch. I googled it, priced at 12,000 bucks. My brain and body shut off the minute my eyes closed, I wish I went to sleep this easily on my actual bed.

Yoongi was a little surprised to not see ___ at her desk, but he’s even more surprised when he enters his office. ___ is curled up on one side of the couch, sound asleep. This is not like her, he’s used to her sitting straight on her desk as she types away. But today she looks soft, a little fragile, he has a smile on his face but he doesn’t notice. Tiptoeing to his desk, he picks up his laptop ready to leave, but the sudden rustles from her stop him in his tracks. She holds her arms close around her, ‘she must be cold’ he thinks to himself. Without a second thought, he’s removing his jacket to lay it on her.

Yoongi is amused by her desk setup, he sat down here to work a little but he’s a little too distracted with the multiple sticky notes on the PC. She’s very meticulous, he notes seeing the array of paperwork arranged on her desk, seeing this clean set up no one would have noticed the kind of work she’s buried under. There’s also a humidifier and a dehumidifier, that makes Yoongi laugh a little too hard. He ducks to check if that woke her up, but all he sees is her still very asleep.

The office is starting to get empty but Yoongi doesn’t notice. His mind is very focused until he is disturbed with a very loud, ‘OH FUCK’. Checking his watch he notices that it’s around 9, she mustn’t have rested enough. In a matter of seconds ___ is stumbling out his office, his jacket still in hand.

I never noticed that my ten minute nap stretched over two hours, or that the lights had been dimmed, OR THAT I WAS SNUGGLING TO YOONGI’S JACKET. He is sitting unfazed on my desk as I saunter out. He looks up for a second and goes back to work like it’s nothing.

This is what is going to get ___ fired, not my incompetence or forgetting to have his coffee ready. ‘I am so sorry, that should have never happened. I was very tired and a migraine was killing me and I am so so sorry’ I don’t know where to look, so I just look down at my feet.

‘We should get you some medicine for that migraine’ he says that when I was fully expected him to be passive aggressive. Before I can say anything, he springs to his feet and returns handing me a pill. ‘I get a few migraines here and there, this will help’ He disappears again, and I feel like I'm still sleeping and maybe dreaming this. ‘Here’ he says, handing her a glass of water. Wordlessly she takes the pill and he shuts his laptop. ‘I’ll drive you home’ maybe he’s being nice right now and will lay it all out for me when everyones around.

‘Why are you being nice?’ I question leaning against the glass in the elevator. ‘I am not a monster, you know’ he jokes standing parallel to me. ‘I know that, I also know that you don’t like people in your place, or people in your office, or change-’ ‘I guess your health and well being trumps it all’ he declares walking out the elevator.

I try very hard not to fall asleep on the drive to my place, and I fail very badly. The pill he gave is definitely doing wonders. I jerk awake when he slows down below my place.

‘Take tomorrow off’ he instructs as I climb out his mercedes.

‘Mr. Min, that's going to be worse for you’ I say without noticing that his jacket is still in my hands. ‘I’ll be alright’ he flashes a rare smile and I mouth a thank you.

Yoongi is this close to shutting the door, burning his fingerprints and vanishing off the face of the earth when an idea sparks him. He can call ___, but the bigger question is should he. This isn’t necessarily office work, but how will she have office work if he disappears never to be found again. He calls her before he talks himself out of it, quick as ever she picks his call within three rings.

‘Mr Min’ she sounds like she was asleep ‘___, I need you here. Shua might kill me’ he whispers into the phone. ‘What, what do you mean KILL’ I’m fully awake just because of a single word. ‘Yeah, and I know she has a gun so I need you to get at the address I’m texting you’ the lack of proper input is freaking me out but I don't say anything, he sounds freaked out enough.

Checking my phone I see that the address is five minutes from my place. Scrambling around I put on some pants and snatched a handbag before practically running down five flights of stairs.

When down, I note that it’s Sunday morning, even if I hail a cab, the best way to get there is either by walking or running. Rushing through crowds of people, I sort of semi-runs to the address. I haven't exercised in a very long time, and it’s very evident by how out of breath I am. Reaching there, I realize that it’s a townhouse and a shady building where Yoongi is tied up for money or something. Pressing the bell a few too many times, I lean against the side, still trying to catch my breath. I am not sure what to expect when the door opens, a mafia boss who’s held Yoongi to gunpoint-

‘Oh my god, thank you so much. This is out of hand-’ before Yoongi can finish his sentence, a child around two years old, in his arms very aggressively pulling his hair, starts shrieking, LOUDLY. Yoongi promptly hands me the child and runs into the house, having no idea whatsoever I enter the house, kicking the door shut. The child in my arms is very quietly playing with my hair too, and everything is fine until I make eye contact with it. And just like before it’s screaming again.

‘Jesus Christ’ I say to myself, not really knowing what to do with the child. Yoongi quickly rushes back into the foyer taking the child from me. Looking around the house is a mess, the curtains have somehow fallen down, there is a huge milk splash on the couch, books half open everywhere, and Yoongi is a mess too. He hasn’t slept all night and he thinks he just might cry.

‘What happened here?’ I ask, leaving my handbag and picking up a few books that are strewn around. ‘This child is a monster’ he says in a very serious tone, I am not used to this Yoongi, his hair is everywhere, there are a few too many stains on his shirt and he isn’t as confident as always. ‘I’m sure that’s now true, what happened here?’ I ask again, Yoongi just stares at her, not knowing what to say. ‘It all began when I let her have fruit loops for dinner’ he sighs, putting the still screaming child down. How is it still going?

‘That’s not good, how about you put it to sleep, I mean her. I shouldn’t call her it’ I think out loud and Yoongi nods, sitting down to meet the child's eye line.

‘I’ve tried ___, I’ve tried everything’ he really looks miserable. ‘What’s her name?’ bending down to make eye contact with the very cute child. ‘Luna’ he whispers.

‘Luna, I’m going to take you to bed. And then, I’m going to count to ten. If you aren’t asleep by then, something very bad will happen’ I pick up the child and follow the trail of mess, presumably to her bedroom. ‘I don’t want to sleep, I want to play’ Luna tried to reason with me. ‘If you don’t sleep, something bad will happen’ I didn't know I was such a great actor, with my strict tone and confidence. ‘What bad’ she asks with her big brown eyes looking at me. ‘Stay awake and you’ll know’ my tone must be working because her eyes shut as soon as I say that. Waiting for a few minutes, the baby monitor in hand I quietly shut the door behind her.

Before I can say a word, Yoongi engulfs her in a very tight, bone-crushing hug. ‘You have literally saved my life’ he says into my hair. The intimacy is

weird, but not so repulsive. Quickly, Yoongi realises what he’s done and he takes a step back leaving her.

‘How did you do that?’ he says while fixing his hair. ‘My mom used to say that to me when I was young’ I fold my arm over my chest and I realise something I might have missed. I totally forgot to put on a bra, Yoongi has definitely already noticed my nipple piercings and he’s making it too evident with that dumb face.

‘I’m starting to hallucinate. I need to sleep, do you mind looking out for her? I promise I just need to lay down for thirty minutes’ he is getting very agitated and irritated and he wants to be out of the room and not notice his assistant's nipple piercings anymore. Not that he doesn’t like them, he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to like them.

‘Thirty minutes will do you no good, I’ll wake you up in a few hours’ he is very quick to lay on the couch, and is asleep in a matter of seconds, how does he do that?

I am still a little fazed, I had only been awake for twenty minutes and a bunch of info was dumped on me. Yoongi has a child? Shua must be the wife? Is this like a second house because I am sure I drop him off at a different address every day.

Too consumed by the mess around me I get to work, putting things back to places. There is coffee and cereal in the same bowl and I do not wish to know why Yoongi did that. I don’t know how Yoongi likes his books arranged but I arrange them by colour anyway. Halfway through cleaning the mess that is in this kitchen when Yoongi stumbles in, his hair is still a mess.

‘You shouldn’t have done this’ he says sitting on a barstool ‘Oh, but I had to. Luna is still asleep, how did this spiral out?’ I say, handing him a cup of coffee, and he has this thankful smile. ‘Luna is my friend Namjoon and Shua’s daughter, Shua went into labour last night. Their sitter is out of town and in the haste of it all I was called to babysit Luna and I am a mess with kids. She bullied me all night’ he says, sipping on this god sent coffee that is going to cure everything. ‘Oh so Luna isn’t your daughter’ I say out loud and Yoongi’s eyes grow double the size. He nods no rigorously saying, ‘That monster, she threw eggs at my face and closed me in the supply closet, she isn’t my daughter’ ‘Don’t call her a monster’ I tease him by taking a few pieces of eggshells out of his hair. ‘___ I cried three different times today, a two-year-old child make me cry and rethink everything I’ve done in my life, she is a-’ ‘Yoongi stop calling her that’ I absentmindedly hit him on the arm a little, Yoongi perk up at the less formal greeting, weirdly he likes it.

‘___, can I see you in my office?’ Yoongi says as he walks back to his office from a meeting. It had been a week since that very strange Sunday morning but things were pretty much back to normal. Much to Yoongi’s dismay, she was back to calling him, Mr Min.

‘For helping me that morning, I don’t know what I would have done without you’ he says, placing a box with a set of candles. Yoongi was very confused about what to get her, jewellery would be too personal, so he went with what he personally likes the most.

‘You didn’t have to’ I am a little too preoccupied smelling the candles and don't notice the smile on his face.

‘Seriously, thanks. I promise I won’t ever call you until it’s life or death’ ‘Well, you know feel free to call me if you need. Think of it as a friend helping out another’ I propose putting down the candles. ‘Okay, friend. I do have a favour to ask. Call me by my name, at least when it’s just us.’ he proposes leaning back in his chair.

‘Sure thing Yoongi, also thanks a ton for these’ I turn around with the huge box in my hands. Self-care Sunday is going to be so much better with these amazing very expensive candles.

The complete office has been in a state of havoc for quite a few days, preparing for Jungkook’s album is a lot more work than I imagined it would be. A few days ago, Yoongi asked me to join him for all of his meetings and it was all fun until I realised that some of these meetings are just formalities to keep people happy.

‘We need to work a system and reduce the number of meetings you attend’ it was after a social discussion meeting when I was finally tired. I don���t wish to sit in a meeting where overly excited inters bounce off social ideas, I’m too old for that.

‘If anyone you are the person who can do that. Do I have any pressing matters for the day? I’d like to visit Jungkook’s MV site’ Yoongi asks checking his watch, it’s almost around 6 pm so they should be almost done filming. ‘Nothing important’ my eyes are on the phone because I’m currently in the middle of kicking Jungkook’s butt with my petty comebacks. ‘You wanna come along’ this causes me to look up, calculating a little in my head I mouth a sure.

‘I forgot that he was shooting on an ice rink’ I sigh as we walk into a very cold skating rink. ‘How bad at ice skating are you?’’ he teases and I give him a very threatening face. ‘I’ll have you know Mr Min that my ice skating skills are very suboptimal at best’ I continued the joke causing him to laugh out loud.

‘___!’ Jungkook shouts from the other side, very aptly catching our and everyone's attention. He’s soon running to us, stopping right before us. ‘What a surprise, I thought I was never going to see you again after I crushed you at Mario Kart’ Jungkook says with a very smug look on his face. ‘Kook, I let you win because I felt bad for you’ I very much didn’t feel bad for him, my competitive streak was going crazy after Jungkook was jumping with victory in my living room.

‘I am also here’ Yoongi says, catching our attention between the petty comebacks. Jungkook instantly pulls him in a hug, ‘Hyung, this is coming to look perfect’ Jungkook is a little too excited today, maybe because of the cold. ‘I’m glad, hopefully, it’s even perfect post-production. Is the director still here?’ Yoongi asks, his hands going into his pockets. He must be cold too. ‘Yeah, I think everyone is almost done packing up.’ Jungkook says pointing in several directions. ‘I have to get going, we’re still on for saturday right?’ Jungkook asks, pointing towards me and Yoongi gives me a bizarre look. ‘Yeah, around 9 don’t be early’ I tease as he walks away nodding. Before I can explain anything Yoongi interrupts me, ‘I’ll go talk to the director, I’ll be back soon’ he remarks not waiting for her response.

I know what Jungkook said sounded like we were going on a date, when we were absolutely not. I don't know why but I desperately need Yoongi to know that I’m not dating Jungkook, or that I ever will. While waiting for Yoongi to come back, I smell some fresh food leading me to the craft services table. It takes him quite a while to be back, everyone has almost left the rink much very quiet and dimmer.

In the corner of her eye, I watch him walk back. Two pairs of skates in his hands.

‘Yoongi I’m not doing that. I don’t want to break any bones’ I knew how bad I was at skating, but he wordlessly tied his skates waiting for me to do the same. ‘I won’t let you break any bones, I promise’ he says standing up. I put on the skates anyway, who can win against that smile. He holds out his hands waiting for her to take them, and I do just that. Not letting her very soft hands take over his mind, Yoongi slowly leads her, watching her very carefully as she balances pretty well.

‘Hey so um, Jungkook and I aren’t going on a date. I know it sounded like it-’ I have to clarify this, for a brief moment his eyes go from the rink to my eyes. ‘But I just invited him for a house party I’m hosting. There isn’t anything romantic, we would kill each other given how competitive we both are. But-’ I stumble a little and Yoongi is quick to pull me upright, in the process holding her even closer. ‘I get it. You don’t have to clarify all this to me’ the tension between them has very quickly risen, it may be due to all the proximity and eye contact.

‘Would you like to come, it’s just a small party for my roommate. She’s moving to Chicago’ I offer as they stop for a while leaning against the rails. ‘You don’t have to invite me just because-’ ‘Yoongi I wanted to, but I just didn’t know if it would put you in a weird spot. You’re my boss, afterall’ I defend myself, I had spent a complete weeked thinking about this, we had been working together for almost a year. ‘Ask me again, as a friend’ he says, smiling and holding out his hands again, they’ve rested enough. I take them again, slowly skating, ‘Yoongi, house party this saturday my place, be there by 9. Be there and bring some weed’ I stumbled again, falling down this time both of them erupt into loud laughter.

It was a bad day, and everything had been spiralling since the investor fell out. Something about our finances looked not so good and Yoongi had been in a pissy mood ever since. Just talking with his eyes and staring me down as I nervously make mistakes due to his very intense stare.

‘___ let me reiterate this to you, I wanted these documents to be processed by legal yesterday, what do you not get about it’ he took me aback, didn’t expect him to be at the office this early. ‘Yoongi, I mean Mr Min, I am so sorry I must have delivered the wrong documents yesterday. Why don’t you give me an hour and I’ll have this done and on your table’ I knew what was actually wrong, but Yoongi is not in the mindset to actually understand it. ‘It’s too late ___’ he says, leaving me all alone at my desk.

‘___!’ Yoongi shouts my name ten minutes later. Closing the door behind me, I don’t want the complete office to know what Yoongi is going off about again. ‘Yes, Mr Min’ we’re in very dangerous territory right now, one wrong answer and I might get fired. ‘Why can’t I access my calendar, what the fuck happened here’ he stands up pushing the chair back a little too hard. I’m not used to seeing him angry like this. Taking a quick look at his screen, I realise what the issue is. ‘It’s because you’re trying to access it through your personal email. I’ve stuck your office email and the password to the screen-’

‘Aren't you being a little know-it-all ___’ he says, and I try to convince myself that he’s being a dick because he’s having a bad day. He lost a big investor, I can take some heat.

‘I’ll leave you to it, let me know if you need anything’ I bit back a snarky remark, seeing his cocky face. ‘Yes, I had a date scheduled. But can you call and cancel it’ I know all about the date, I was scheduled on his work schedule.

‘Hey, so, um there’s a small issue’ Lara, our social media intern found me when I was in the middle of eating lunch on my table. ‘What is it?’ I am getting a little tired of today too. ‘A few of Sage’s nudes just got leaked. It’s just on Reddit right now, but it will start spreading like wildfire in a few minutes’ Lara hands me an iPad where I can see the very clear nudes. ‘Oh this is so much bigger’ abandoning my lunch, I quickly make my way to his office, shutting the door behind me. He scowls seeing as I interrupted him on a call, ‘Cut the call, this is way too important’ Placing the iPad in front of him. ‘I’ll call legal and PR and get them here right away. You call Sage but please for the love of God, don’t get angry with her, this is not her fault’ I go into problem-solving mode before Yoongi can say anything.

‘This is going to cost us so much more, litigation vise’ Yoongi complains the moment things look a little taken care of. ‘Let me pay for this’ sage offers from her seat beside me. She had been absolutely modified having to sit through that meeting and having to answer some very difficult questions. ‘No, just go home. Don’t talk to the press, and please be careful next time’ Yoongi has discarded his tie and he’s just about done with today.

‘Hey, there are some articles online already, please don’t pay any mind to them, Stay off socials and let me know if there is anything else to be taken care of’ I say, patting her arm. Sage looks terrified, all she needs is a comforting presence. ‘___ there is no need for you to coddle her, she is an adult woman who made a mistake and now has to suffer-’ ‘Yoongi why don’t you shut up’ I lose my temper a little, standing up, going face to face with him. Sage takes her cue to leave but I won't back down this time. I’ve just had it with Yoongi.

‘I get that you’re having a bad day and losing an investor is a big deal. But you don’t get to blame Sage for this’ I say talking a lot with my hands, a force of habit for when I’m angry.

‘You don’t get how big of a deal losing an investor is. It makes the rest of them vulnerable too’ Yoongi’s voice is a few decibels higher than I’m used to, but it doesn’t faze me.

‘No, I don’t know, what am I but a small invaluable assistant. But you don’t get to be a dick and throw tantrums because one thing didn’t go your way. Man up, talk to other investors. If being angry every time there's some problem is your solution, you’re going to have a million other problems soon’ I am done with him for the day, taking my stuff I make my way out the conference room not looking back.

It’s around 7 pm when he wordlessly exits his office, not stopping on my desk like usual when we would discuss our dinner plans or asking me to drive him home while he does more work.

The silent treatment goes on for around two more days and it’s around Friday when I’ve had just enough. I am not upset with him per se, but I desperately need him to say something and gauge the amount of damage my little outburst caused. ‘Just fire me already’ I cry out taking a seat on his sofa. He has this amused look on his face like he didn’t expect this from me.

‘I would never fire you’ he answers, his nose still buried in papers. ‘I know I crossed a line that day, but this third degree with silent treatment is killing me’ I whine laying against his very soft couch.

‘You were right, I was being a dick. I also personally apologized to Sage, you were right, she didn’t deserve any heat from me’ he says sitting beside me.

‘I also wanted to apologize to you and thank you’ he leans his head against the couch too, he gets why I am always raving about it being so comfortable. ‘You don’t need to’ I turned my head to look directly at him. ‘But I have to, I am so sorry and I’m very thankful to have you make this all very easy. I was just in the worst mood because every time I face a big failure like that, I am reminded of how incompetent I am at this’ he says, vaguely pointing around everywhere. He stops for a while, trying to find something in my eyes and I don’t know what it is.

‘Yoongi you created all, you are very competent for all this because you do this for more than business, you’re compassionate about music, you want to share more of it with the world, Your passion is what makes you good at this, don’t let your anxiety fool you’ Comforting him, I place my hand on his knee and he smiles the same dazzling one, that makes my heart do things.

The next day Yoongi takes a break, he needs some self-care. And he can’t stop raving about the chiropractor I booked him while all I can focus on is his platinum blonde hair. He just sauntered in here and expected me not to make a comment on it.

‘I don’t like it’ I copied him pointing at his hair. ‘What you really don’t’ he questions ruffling his hair a little. ‘No, I do. I was just mocking you, about a year ago you did the same when I cut my hair short’ I play with my short bob a little as everything clicks in his mind.

‘I like our short hair, I just thought you looked prettier with the hair you had the day I met you. But this looks good too’ he talks animatedly, his hands coming to push back my bangs.

‘You're a pretty hot blond too’ I throw back the compliment and his hand comes right beside mine resting it there. I pass him a twinkling smile and leave his office quickly before I bend down and kiss his pretty face.

[jimlingss]

Maybe Baby Retreat

➜ Words: 12.7k

➜ Genres: 50% Fluff, 50% Smut

➜ Summary: In an attempt to conceive, Taehyung discovers a five day retreat dedicated to help with the impregnation process but you're fairly certain that the entire thing is a scam.

[Day One]   Taehyung should be fucking you.   It’s a bit crass to be grumbling that he’s not sticking his sperm in you, but your fertile window begins today and if he really wants a kid as much as he says he does, you wouldn’t be on a godforsaken bus.    The yellow school bus jumps and jolts as it goes down the jagged, unpaved road. Every bump is felt in the back by ten folds as you’re rocked from side to side on the seat and not on your husband’s dick. Said man is too busy singing along with the guide that’s living it up with a mic in hand and his voice on the intercom. He’s trying to bring up the morale, but you’re not having it.   Instead, you turn to the window and stare out at the empty countryside that stretches across the horizon. There’s not a car in sight and if you swear to god if you’re being shipped to a serial killer’s farmhouse, you’re dragging Taehyung down to hell with you.   “You’re frowning, sweetheart,” he says while leaning over to you, flashing a blazing grin much to your chagrin. “You know stress isn’t good for the baby.”   “It’s not like it matters. There is no baby.”   “Not yet.” Taehyung throws an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him as you scoff. You’re aware being a Debbie Downer isn’t going to help anyone but it’s hard to loosen up when you’re so on guard and skeptical about this whole thing. When you’re surrounded by noisy strangers who are all too overfamiliar.   You suppose it was your fault to begin with.   All those nights of staying up to read about tricks and tips of conceiving led Taehyung to discover the Baby Retreat. A five day sanctuary that ensures people will be able to conceive.    The moment you saw it, you were certain that the whole thing was a scam, but your sweet summer child husband was wholly convinced and no matter what you said, it wouldn’t change his mind.   “Who knows, it might actually work, right?! And if it doesn’t, then it looks fun anyway! When was the last time we had a vacation together?”   It’s also your fault for being so soft. You couldn’t shut Taehyung down when he was so enthusiastic, so here you are. You took off a week off work and on your fertile day, you’re shipped onto a school bus out into the middle of nowhere.   “Oh! Looks like we’re here, folks!” The vehicle slows as it turns into the gravel parking lot and the guide smiles as he peers out the windshield. “Welcome to the Baby Retreat! I hope you leave with a few buns in the oven! And if not, then don’t worry, you can still eat for two here!”   There’s a few snickers and once the bus parks, everyone gets up, slowly shuffling out and stretching their legs.   The air is sweltering hot and the sun beams down onto the back of your neck, making it uncomfortable to breathe. You’re panting with sweat built on your hairline as you drag your luggage through the grass. But no one seems bothered by it. Maybe because they’re excited that they’re here, they have the energy to fill the field with their chatter.    Even Taehyung is grinning and he’s a certified whiner when it comes to hot weather. The guy blasts the air conditioner during summer until it feels like it’s winter. Though you have an inkling it’s just a tactic so you can cuddle up to him for warmth before bed.   “Come on, slowpoke!” Taehyung breaks through your train of thought and then abandons you by running ahead like a hyperactive five year old.    “I’d be faster if you helped me!” Taehyung doesn’t hear you. You wonder if you married a child — but you suppose that’s why you called him the light of your life during your vows. Like Yoongi once said at the dinner reception, Taehyung’s excessive energy is indeed a double-edged sword.   You follow the stream of people to the center building, a modern wooden structure in the middle of the fifteen yurts that form a circle. It surprisingly looks alike to the advertisements, each with a porch and steps up to the door. The grass is verdant and pliant beneath your feet, the numerous trimmed trees around providing some nice shade and the flower beds give bright splashes of colour to the place. If this retreat wasn’t oddly centered around impregnation, you would’ve been convinced that it was a fancy camping resort.   “Welcome everyone! Welcome to the Baby Retreat! I hope the trip here wasn’t too bad!”   You finally join Taehyung’s side and look towards the stage in front of the main building. There’s a man with a half-moon smile and chubby cheeks in a loose tunic and taupe pants. He stands next to a woman in a baggy poncho holding a ukulele for reasons beyond you.   “I see some familiar faces here! To all those already familiar with the Baby Retreat, welcome home. I’ll try to keep this short and simple, so you’re not too bored.” He claps his hands together with a bright smile. You look around at the crowd to see elated expressions. “My name is Park Jimin and this is my girlfriend, Song Hyunjin. A little about us, we’ve been together for over ten years and yes, we have an open relationship with each other, but that does not mean we aren’t in love with each other.”   He draws her in, nuzzling into her without shame and she giggles. “To our new faces, trust me, you’ll find out soon enough.”   Jimin pulls away with an enormous grin. “We haven’t had any children ourselves, but don’t worry. We’re reproductive endocrinologists with proper training and medical degrees. But we started this retreat four years ago to take a more unconventional approach to reproduction. And for the next five days, we have the honour of hopefully helping you ladies conceive and you males impregnate your partner!”   There’s some exchanged smiles and Taehyung looks at you with hopeful eyes. It feels better to hear these people aren’t uneducated and talking out of their ass, but you’re still unsure how to feel.   Hyunjin laughs. “Not only that, our goal is to help you relax and truly deepen your relationship with your partner. While we can’t promise a hundred percent success rate, hopefully you’ll leave this place feeling more refreshed than you did before. With that being said, please feel free to come up and ask us any questions. We’re very open people who are more than happy to help you in your process of expanding your wonderful families. There is nothing more beautiful than pregnancy and birth.”   She jumps off the stage and grabs a wooden crate. With a smile, she begins passing out packs.   Jimin continues, “For the next five days, we’ll be helping everyone improve their diets and exercise habits while getting plenty of vitamin D. What my lovely Hyunjin is handing out now are your survival kits!”    “For men, fenugreek supplements are given to improve your sperm counts and for the ladies, there are prenatal vitamins and folic acid. There’s also a guide to the activities provided around here and a map, some sunscreen and other knick-knacks to remember your time here. Don’t worry, we won’t bombard you with any pregnancy pamphlets or information. I’m sure you’re tired of hearing about that.”   It’s a bit refreshing to hear. You’ve been neck deep in research about conception that it’s been hard lately — another reason that you agreed to Taehyung’s whims.   “Are you the Kim family?” Hyunjin asks and when you confirm it, she hands both you and Taehyung cute pouches. You reluctantly take it, but when you thank her, she happily smiles. “Welcome to the Baby Retreat.”   The introduction drags on for a bit more before Hyunjin admits that it’s hot and that everyone’s probably tired, so the meeting ends and you open your pouch and find information on your yurt.   “Not too bad, right?”    Taehyung can tell by the look on your face as you gaze up at your white-tented yurt.   “We’ll see,” you mumble and he takes the luggage, following behind you. “I thought we were going to spend five days in an orange tent, so I guess this is better by default.”   “An orange tent?” He laughs. “But I showed you the commercial! Did you not pay attention?”   “People lie on advertisements all the time, Tae.”   But to your surprise, the interior of the yurt is even better than expected. It looks like a cozy cabin, wooden panel walls that separate the full kitchen from the full bathroom and provides some privacy to where the queen sized bed is. Light comes in from the top, filling the space with luminescence. There’s a mini-fridge filled with goods, plush towels set on the table with a personalized welcome card, down duvets that are soft to the touch.    And it’s wrecked the moment Taehyung jumps on the bed with his arms and legs wide open like a starfish. He rolls over and props his head up with his hand — in the position where he often asks you in a breathy voice to paint him like one of your french girls. And he uses the same voice on you now while wiggling his brows, “Wanna ruin the sheets with me?”   You burst out laughing, but it sounds all too tempting. He could probably dump a load in you within five minutes, though you’re not sure if anyone could hear you from the outside. “Didn’t they say there’s planned activities in an hour? What if we don’t show up.”   “It’s fine. People come here for one reason anyway.” There’s a pause. “To fuck.”   You roll your eyes, setting your suitcase next to the bed and you look at the nightstand to notice mineral oil lubricants. You’re mildly impressed at the details. “Thanks, Captain Obvious.”   “They won’t miss us.” Taehyung’s own attention is taken to a wooden basket on a shelf of the irregular shaped bookshelf and he comes over, only to grin when he sees what’s inside. “Honey. I think we should have some fun tonight.”   You turn around, wondering what he’s up to now. But any snarky remarks die on your tongue when you find a leather whip in his left hand and a ten inch, neon pink dildo in his other hand.   “Is that...even sanitary?!”    You can’t imagine how many people have used it.   “We can find out.” Taehyung fiddles around with it, pushes a button and the dildo begins to rotate, making the both of you laugh. “Honey, we gotta give them five stars on Yelp! They have a communal sex toy bin for us to use! We can’t get this anywhere else.”   “Oh god. I’d rather not share my sex toys with anyone.” The two of you are interrupted by muffled folk music that begins to leak inside and it persuades you to go out. “C’mon, we should go check out what they have. If we have to spend five days here, we might as well meet some other people too and be social or whatever.”   Taehyung grins, tossing the dildo back into the basket and joining your side. “You’re liking this place, aren’t you?”   “No. I just think the yurt’s half-decent.”   Taehyung can see right through you, but it’s a bit too early for the ‘told you so’ spiel so he holds back and the both of you step outside of the yurt. There’s a few people hanging around and the weather is more bearable as the sun slowly begins moving and setting over the horizon. You meet friendly newlyweds who are surprisingly having their honeymoon here.   “We just can’t wait to have kids,” Rose, the young twenty three year old, says as she embraces her husband, Hoseok. They’re no strangers to publish displays of affection, openly kissing up on each other. It would make you a bit uncomfortable if not for how touchy Taehyung is as well.   When you first got together all those years ago, your friends teased you about it but it’s been years since. No one’s a stranger to how you plop yourself down on Taehyung’s lap or how he might kiss you and then steal your food right off of your own plate.   “When we saw that the retreat offered a honeymoon package, we just couldn’t resist,” Hoseok says, but you’re not sure if he’s talking to you and Taehyung or his wife with how much he gazes at her. It’s a sweet sight though. You remember that honeymoon period.   “Remember when we were that young?” you ask as you leave to the other side, giving the couple some much needed privacy. It was obvious they weren’t up for more conversation with the way they’re shifting and staring at one another.   “When you were still hot? Yeah. I do—” Taehyung bursts out laughing when you jab him. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! You’re still hot, okay? The hottest chick here and you’d make the hottest MILF too.”   “Damn straight.”   The pair of you also run into another couple that’s older and appears a lot more comfortable with the place. “Oh, this is actually our second time here! The first time gave us the four year old troublemaker running amok back at home.”   You blink in surprise, suddenly more interested in the conversation. “This place...worked for you?”   “It sure did.” The woman, Dahyun, smiles. “Some people didn’t have as much luck as we did, but we had so much fun last time that we knew we just had to come back. We were actually staying in your yurt last time.”   She points and you swivel your head over, intrigued. “Huh.” Taehyung raises a brow, noticing how engaged you are and the corner of his mouth tugs.   Her husband, Seokjin, chuckles heartily. “We thought it was time to give our son a younger brother, so here we are! Tonight’s the welcome party and just a word of advice, I really recommend getting some of that grilled salmon. It’s absolutely delicious.”   “Just let them eat whatever they want, Jin,” his wife sighs in exasperation.   “I’m just saying! I would’ve liked to know last time — I would’ve gotten two plates before they ran out.”   “This is why the doctor told you to eat less of everything. You ate more than I did when I was pregnant with Youngjae.”   “I can’t help that I’m eating for three! For your information, I’m carrying the entire family on these broad, broad shoulders of mine. Soon, I’ll have to start eating for four.”   Dahyun turns to you and Taehyung who are amused at their bickering. “I’m sorry. Please ignore him.”   It’s not a bad place, at least not so far. You weren’t sure what you were anticipating, but on the entire way here, you were worried that it was a scam your poor husband fell for. Luckily though, it seemed like the accommodation is good and the people around are friendly and welcoming, coming from different kinds of backgrounds and walks of life. It makes you feel better about not having internet connection or being murdered in the middle of the night.   The welcoming party turns out to be fairly nice too, and like Seokjin said, the food is delicious.   It’s a buffet style with tables set out, full of what Jimin declares is antioxidant-rich foods. He and Hyunjin go on a tangent about the benefits, how soy and estrogen foods have been limited, how there’s an emphasis on fruits, vegetables, carbohydrates, proteins and folic acid, and you’re sorely impressed at the attention to detail they provide.   “Oh my god. The salmon is amazing and have you tried these beans, Tae?!”   Taehyung laughs as he watches you eat, eyes lifted to look at you across the rounded table. “I thought you hated beans.”   “I do. But try it.” You lift your fork and he happily leans over, taking a bite. He swallows it down and smiles at how you stuff your cheeks.   After dinner, the pair of you gather with the rest to watch a few performances held on the main stage. Jimin introduces other staff members who sing, dance and Hyunjin even does a number with her ukulele, belting out some indie songs while standing bare feet.   It’s bizarre and a bit surreal to be sitting back in a lawn chair and watching some chick with flowers in her hair jump around and try to entertain you, but it’s not completely unwelcome. If anything, you were sort of having fun. The sun had set, making the weather milder. The breeze was warm against your cheeks and the fairy lights strung above were twinkling.   The whole atmosphere lulled you and with your head leaning on Taehyung’s shoulder, every blink became heavier and heavier. “This is nice,” you mutter and he catches it.   Your husband turns his head with a tiny smile. “Yeah?”   “Mhmh...”    You feel a wet kiss being planted at the top of your head and you decide to indulge, closing your eyes for just a moment. But the next time they open, you realize that the crowd has thinned, they’ve put on music on the stereo and Taehyung’s windbreaker is draped on top of you as a makeshift blanket.   “Hey there, sleepy head.” He grins at you when he notices your lashes fluttering. “Want me to carry you back to the yurt?”   “I’m fine.” It takes a second to get up and you stretch your arms out before the both of you make your way back to the yurt. There were a few younger couples lingering around and still taking in the scenery, but the years were catching up to you quickly and all you wanted was to dive into the sheets and satiate the rest of your sleepiness. “How long was I out for?”   “About half an hour?”   Taehyung fishes for the key and opens the door. “I didn’t even realize I was so tired.” You manage to kick off your shoes and beeline to the bathroom to brush your teeth.   “Of course, you were tired. You didn’t even sleep on the bus and for the past few days you’ve been up late doing research.”   You mumble incoherently, not having enough energy to argue with Taehyung and he grins, nudging you aside so he can grab his own toothbrush.    In the next ten minutes, it’s lights out. You’re rolled onto the bed, tucked into the warm sheets like a burrito, and Taehyung’s settled in as well. You hear his exhale and you allow your muscles to relax in the comfortable darkness. The exhaustion that’s been built from the entire day washes over you. But before you can drift off, in the quietness of the room, you remember.   And you reach out, arm stretched, feeling for your husband.   Taehyung hums when you tap his shoulder. You feel him shift and mumble, “What’s wrong?”   “I’m fertile,” you mutter with your eyes closed. “You need to stick your dick in me.”   He bursts out laughing and his arm slings over your abdomen. “It’s okay if we don’t have sex tonight, you know.”   You sigh, too fatigued to get up and do the job yourself. “We’re gonna miss our opportunity, Tae.”   A soft kiss is pressed to your temple, and you feel yourself losing the fight to keep your consciousness. “We’ll have other chances. Relax.”   “Relaxing….isn't gonna give us a baby.”   “No, but it will keep my current baby sane.”   After being together for so many years, Taehyung knows how to make his words sound sweet and enticing. And before you can even damn him for always catering to you and babying you, you’ve fallen asleep in his arms.

[Day Two]   Breakfast is as incredible as dinner was. There’s a full fruit platter that’s apparently all organic and a number of carbohydrates to fill yourself all the way to lunch. But you begin to regret eating so much with the scheduled activity that follows.   “Couples yoga is a way to build intimacy and trust with your partner.” Hyunjin and Jimin smile brilliantly and you wonder if they’re happy go lucky all the time. It must be fucking exhausting.   “Taehyung.” You nudge the man beside you who’s intently listening and he turns his head. “You know I’m not flexible at all.”   “Don’t worry.” He flashes a blazing grin. It’s way too early for this. “This is just for fun and I’ll catch you if anything.”   “No. Last time I tried doing yoga, I pulled a muscle in my thigh—”   “Oh look. They’re doing the first pose!” Your husband excitedly lugs you down and you’re forced to comply, crossing your legs and facing him.    It’s simple at first. There are basic poses with him leaning against you. Although it is hard to find a good balance considering how tall Taehyung is and even for being lanky, he’s quite a bit stronger than you are. But when Hyunjin and Jimin begin to twist themselves around and Jimin holds her up by the feet with a single hand, you know it’s impossible.   Unlike Taehyung, you never did cheerleading or any acrobatics.   “You’re going to drop me or I’m going to snap your spine, Tae!”   “Don’t you trust me?”   You look at your half-monkey, half-clown of a husband. “Do you really want to know the truth?”   The both of you collapse into a heaping mess before he can confirm or deny. He laughs and starts tickling you for not being able to listen until you’re begging him to stop before you look more like an idiot than you already do.   There’s a few couples who do a good job and you giggle when Taehyung mutters passive aggressive comments on how they’re teacher’s pets or that their form is awful. But there’s the fair share of other pairs who do as bad as you, namely Seokjin and Dahyun, the old couple from last night, bickering at being unable to do any poses.   You can’t say that couple’s yoga is particularly relaxing, but it’s silly and you find yourself having fun.   Hyunjin leads the cool down exercise and Taehyung nearly whacks you in the head with how he stretches. Your glare gains his exaggerated pout then cheesy smile. “Now as the very last cool down exercise, we’re going to take our partners by the hand.”   You mimic her and clasp Taehyung’s hands, awaiting further instructions.    “And we’re going to gaze into their eyes.” What? “Focus into the colour of their irises, how brown or blue or green they might be, or even the pattern of them. Sometimes we don’t truly look at one another like we should.”   “What are they even saying?” you mutter and the corner of Taehyung’s mouth twitches. In spite of how bizarre it is, you follow and stare into Taehyung’s rounded eyes. They’re brown. Like they’ve always been.   But you must admit, when the morning sunlight catches his irises at particular angles, the colour is a lighter shade than usual. They’re quite bright too.   “They say if we gaze into the eyes of someone we love, our heartbeat synchronizes together.”   What? Your brows furrow skeptically and you’re about to turn away, but suddenly Taehyung grabs a hold of your chin. “Don’t look away,” he commands with an authoritative voice and you swallow hard.   “Okay.” You focus your eyes to enlarge and focus. “I’m looking.”   You wonder if this is a staring contest, but even with his wolfish smile and being married for so long, Taehyung’s intent stare starts to make you feel vulnerable. You wonder if he’s always looked at you so affectionately. More importantly, you realize that even with all his dumb antics — like deciding to paint the fence green and then stopping halfway or ripping out the cabinets in the kitchen and never replacing them like he intended — you still love this sweet and kind dummy.   “Alright. Everyone can relax now,” Jimin announces softly as he claps and you finally blink a few times, eyes stinging from how you forced them open. “That’s the end of this session. Thank you for joining everyone.”   Yet, Taehyung holds your gaze a moment longer. And before you can pipe up and tell him it’s over, the man leans in and presses a soft kiss to your lips. He smiles when he pulls away. “As much as sweat is a good look on you, I think it’s time to shower, Mrs. Kim.”   You scoff and he holds your hand with an enormous grin, dragging you back to the yurt.   The two of you hop into the shower together, a habit that Taehyung insists is to save water for the good of the environment, but you swear half the time, you end up wasting more than if either of you do it separately. You’re sure that right now is one of those times.   “Hey.” You turn around as he’s lathering up his shampoo.   “Hey, yourself.” He smiles and shifts towards the stream of water before screaming at how hot it is. Taehyung quickly adjusts it, dissipating the fog on the glass. “Why do you like bathing in molten lava, woman?”   “You always make it too cold.” You scoff, but don’t dwell on the argument as you lean into his backside. “Listen, should we get a quickie in?”   Taehyung frees himself of the soap and looks at you. “If we do, we’ll miss lunch and then the hike.”   “We’re going on a hike?!”   “Yep, so hurry up cause if we don’t get lunch, we’re not gonna make it!” He gets out of the shower, leaving you to be bludgeoned by the ice, cold water. You sigh in exasperation.   The purpose of coming here is to conceive, not go on a hike. But with how enthused he is, you begrudgingly join.   Afternoons are the worst out here. The sun is sweltering and there isn’t an ounce of a breeze or a wind. As a result, the heat stifles and lingers without dissipating, causing sweat to dampen your clothing and stick to the back of your neck. The weather exhausts you and you feel your creamy lunch pasta up your throat again as you lug your legs up the steep, rocky incline.    No matter how much you try to keep up, you fall behind from the group.   Taehyung twirls around with a big grin, mouth perfectly symmetrically. “Are you okay?”   “W-What does it look like?” you pant. It’s unfair that Taehyung works out once a year and treats his body like a candy trashcan but is still more fit than you are.    “I can carry you if you want.”   “You’re going to snap in half carrying me.” You pass him as he laughs.    You hear him catch up, feet skipping along like he’s playing hopscotch. Then suddenly, you feel yourself being lifted off the ground and you shriek, arms looping around Taehyung’s neck. You’re scooped up in his arms like he’s about to kick down the door into the bedroom, but instead, he starts sprinting up the path like a maniac.   “Taehyung!” you squeal and he laughs again.   “Isn’t this better?”   “Aren’t you tired?”   “If I say yes, you’re gonna think I’m trying to tell you to lose weight, but for the record, I like how soft you are.”   You roll your eyes, embarrassed as you pass a few couples, but none of them seem to find it bizarre and they even smile warmly at you and Taehyung. Yet, he starts to slow down tremendously after a few minutes, panting and sweating profusely. You ask him if he’s going to put you down yet, but you underestimate just how stubborn your dear husband is. Taehyung refuses until you’re up at the top of the trail, making it to where Jimin and Hyunjin are by the waterfall.    There, you’re finally on set on your feet again.   You pass him your water bottle. “Drink it before I’m the one dragging you down.”   He grins and downs it.   Up here, it’s much more refreshing and easier to breathe. There’s a tiny waterfall coming from the higher mountains and there are trees around to provide shade. When you squint, you can see the campsite at a distance with all the yurts.   “We should take some pictures!” Taehyung declares when he steadies his breath and pulls out his selfie stick from the hideous fanny pack that you still won’t admit is pretty convenient.   “Your mom is gonna want a copy so don’t pull any ugly faces, Tae.”   “My face is never ugly.” He tugs you beside him and snaps a few shots before reviewing them carefully. Taehyung always had an eye for these kinds of things. “We didn’t get a good angle of the water.”   “I can take it for you.”   “What’s the point if we’re not together?” His thick brows are furrowed, lips lopsided, sighing.   A matronly and friendly voice pipes up next to you, “Do you need any help?”   Dahyun is smiling with Seokjin beside her and Taehyung appears relieved. “Yes, please.”   She takes his phone as he folds back his selfie stick and she stands off to the side, capturing you and Taehyung smiling with his arm around you. “One. Two. Three. I’ll take another one.”   Dahyun changes the angle a bit and Taehyung leans over to pull on your cheek while you feign a glare at him. The second picture is taken while the woman and her husband laugh, endeared. “There we go. You can check them to see if they’re good.”   The phone is handed back and by Taehyung’s expression, it seems acceptable. “You two are too cute. When did you get married?”   “Oh, I think three years ago? Yeah. Three.”    It’s much longer than it actually feels. It seemed like it was a week ago when you first met in class and thought he was annoying. Like yesterday, he was supposed to propose at a fancy restaurant but failed when you found the ring box the night before — how he screamed at you to stop, but it was too late and he ended up going with it. They’ve all become memories that you cherish.   “We met back in school and dated a while before getting married.”   Dahyun smiles. “Have you decided how many kids you want yet?”   You hitch a thumb to Taehyung. “He wants four, but I’m fine with two.”   “The bigger the family, the better, right?” he says, looking up from the screen of his phone.   “Wait until you have kids, you’ll end up wanting more,” Seokjin chuckles, “That or you’ll want to give them all away, but personally, I could raise a whole football team if she’d let me.”   His wife jabs him in the ribs. “Yeah, because you’re not the one who has to give birth to them.”   “And that’s why you’re the boss of the house.” He pouts at her while the corners of his mouth tickle up into a smile, and she relents.   “Let’s be honest, the real boss of the house is our little troublemaker. I swear he took after all your bad traits.”   Seokjin gasps. “Excuse me, Youngjae is my most masterful creation...even if he painted all over our leather seats and popped our car tire with his batman toy.”   She shakes her head with a light sigh, but it’s hard to hide her beaming expression. “I should’ve known he would give me trouble when he went past the due date for two weeks.”   “T-two weeks?” you sputter.   Dahyun nods, finally having the sympathy she was trying to fish out of her husband. “My stomach was as big as a watermelon and I was in labour for fourteen hours before I ended up getting an emergency c-section and he came out a whopping ten pounds.”   Your head is swirling as you try to imagine a ten pound baby in this petite woman.   It almost seems like a horror story that’s waiting to be picked up by Hollywood.   “But honestly, the hardest part wasn’t the whole pregnancy or birthing process. It was afterwards.” Her exhale is long and fatigued. “Suddenly there’s another human being you’re responsible for and you have to take care of them while you’re still in recovery. I remember when Youngjae couldn’t stop crying in the middle of the night. I always had an idea that having kids was a lot of work, but you really don’t have time for yourself once they’re born, and not to mention my bladder was completely done for after the whole thing.”   “Alright, alright.” Her husband pulls her close. “I already know you’re a woman warrior. I saw it with my own eyes.”   Dahyun smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes and she turns to him, deadpanning, “No, you didn’t. You passed out half-way.”   “I was there in spirit,” Seokjin insists humorously.   Dahyun scoffs while Taehyung grins at their back and forth that’s reminiscent of his own dynamic with you. “But were they worth it?”   “Oh, a thousand percent,” Dahyun responds without needing a second to consider, expression softening. “Enough that I would want to do it all over again.”   She doesn’t get a chance to say much else when Jimin’s voice pierces through the chatter and everyone gathers together with the last stragglers who have finally made it up. “Thank you, everyone, for coming all the way up here. This is Serenity Falls that was actually…”   But his voice drowns out.   You linger on what Dahyun said, about child rearing and birthing, and there’s nothing that can be done to the uneasy emotion swelling inside of you.   The walk back down is silent. Done without a single complaint from you about the hot weather or how your feet ache. Taehyung notices, glancing at you several times. He doesn’t say anything until you’re back at the yurt.    “What’s wrong?”   You look at him from across the room. “Nothing, why?”   “You’ve just been quiet.”   “I just….” You inhale and decide to divulge him. “I was just thinking about what Dahyun and Seokjin were saying. Do you think we’re cut out for this, Taehyung?”   His head quirks to one side. “Why wouldn’t we be?”   “You and I can barely take care of ourselves.”   “That’s not true.”   “We forget to buy food all the time.”   “That makes midnight snack runs fun.” He grins.   You exhale an unsteady breath and Taehyung approaches you. He doesn’t mind how sweaty you are and wraps his arms around your waist. “We’ll figure it out. You said it yourself, right? One step at a time.”   “But what if it’s too much and you decide you don’t want to do it anymore? Or that...you don’t want to be with me?” He opens his mouth, but you keep going before he can jump in. It’s not just about you being self-conscious or needing reassurance. You’re simply trying to imagine the worst case scenario as realistically as you can. “Like when I’m still bloated like a whale and in a bad mood and the baby’s crying and no one knows what to do.”   “I’ll still love you no matter the changes,” Taehyung murmurs earnestly, searching your expression. “Even if you’re bloated like a whale and in a bad mood and the baby’s crying and no one knows what to do. I’ll use google to figure it out and get the baby to calm down and I’ll get you some chocolate and I’ll rub your feet.”   You scoff lightly. “You make it sound so easy.”   “Maybe because it won’t be as hard as you think. I’m great with kids and we got killer teamwork, you know, plus this baby’ll be the best project we’ve ever done together.”   “A project that’s gonna last us eighteen years.” You smile.   Taehyung laughs, the sound mellifluous in the room. “Which isn’t that long considering how fast time moves.”   You hum and encircle your arms around his neck. Taehyung gets the hint and leans in to seal your lips against his, slotting them together to kiss you the way he knows you like it.   It’s slow, comforting, an opportunity to revel in the softness of his lips. Taehyung gives you courage — he always has and when you break apart, smiling against each other, you feel worlds better than before. “I’m gonna start a bubble bath. You can join me if you want.”   It’s less of a suggestion and more of a demand, one Taehyung fully recognizes and makes him smile in amusement as you saunter away. Taking advantage of the tub in the bathroom, you lower the stopper of the drain and dump in the soap they offer. The water gets filled three quarters way with a layer of bubbles and you strip. You sigh as you get comfortable in the tub.   “Is it warm?”   Your husband leans against the doorway, arms crossed and the corner of his mouth curled.   “Uh-huh.” You loll your head on the edge of the tub and lift up your foot, watching the way the water cascades off your skin. “Are you not going to get in?”   “Maybe later,” Taehyung surprisingly replies. He rarely rejects any chance at jumping your bones when you’re being this forward about it. There’s no hike or lunch to catch that’s preventing him from having fun with you either. But as your husband walks out, you catch him unceremoniously stealing the clothes you have prepared and the stack of towels by the sink.   “What are you doing?”   “There’s no point in covering yourself up if I’m gonna strip you anyway.” He flashes a mischievous grin and you sigh, relenting in his antics. You simply lay back to enjoy the water, muscles relaxing and your brain that’s constantly in overdrive empties.   After ten minutes, your skin begins to wrinkle, so you drain the water and get out. But the moment you stand up, the cool air conditioning slams into you and your body starts to shiver.   “Taehyung!” you shout and hear silence. “At least give me a towel!”   Fortunately for you, there’s a smaller one on the rack he missed so you swipe at it and wrap your shoulders to protect yourself. But you’re still dripping wet and in need of your clothes, so you stomp out to find your ridiculous partner who’s apparently five years old and—   “HA!” Said man you’re searching for bursts out of the closet and you scream, startled half to death, nearly falling to the ground. Taehyung starts to laugh like a maniac.   “Are you serious?!” You gawk at him. “How long did you even wait there for?”   “Like five minutes ago.” The bastard wolfishly grins. “Worth it though.”   You cock a brow at him, sighing. “So that’s why you didn’t join me in the bath?”   “No. I didn’t join you, so I could do this.” He yanks the towel where your breasts meet, leaving you nude. Goosebumps rise all over your skin and your nipples harden in the frigid air.   You screech, arms trying to cover yourself. “Taehyung, it’s cold!” “I can warm you up,” he says but then runs away when he reads the glare on your face, giggling boyishly. It’s completely childish. If anyone was watching, you’d be mortified, but it’s been a long time since there was any shame in your marriage, so you stomp after him while nude.    You hunt the man down while he tries to evade by rounding the coffee table. It’s no longer about grabbing clothes or covering yourself up, it’s time for revenge.   Luckily, the yurt isn’t big enough to have a game of tag. You manage to reach him and you steal the opportunity to yank his pants down. Taehyung, mid-laugh, trips on his feet and stumbles on the carpet. You burst out giggles, looking at his ass in the air and he giggles too from the infectious sound bubbling up your throat.   “Oh, you’re gonna get it now,” He mutters in a low voice with half-lidded eyes and you scramble away with another shriek.   “You started it!” You jump onto the bed and Taehyung kicks off his pants. You don’t ask why he’s skipped out on wearing boxers, but you notice he’s already half-hard and that only makes you laugh louder.   He chases after you as you duck and steal his own tactic of rounding the coffee table. But unfortunately for you, Taehyung has always been destined to win with his longer legs. He catches you within two strides and snatches you as you scream. You’re thrown over his shoulder like you’re a sack of potatoes and he smirks. “Caught you.”   “Taehyung! People are gonna hear!” You laugh in spite of being the one who’s making most of the noise and he tosses you onto the bed. Usually, you hate to be manhandled, but your husband’s the only exception to the rule.   “Let them hear.”   He hovers over you and the laughter dies down. Taehyung stares earnestly into your eyes and your breathing becomes shallow. But you don’t like to lose and as his wife of three years, you know his one, true weakness.    Your fingers lift to Taehyung’s armpits and he seizes when you start tickling him. You laugh when he does and once he doubles over, there’s an opening to the left, a perfect escape route. You steal the opportunity while you still have it and start to climb off the bed, but he regains his breath and grabs your ankle, tugging you back to him in one swift motion without even needing to try.    Taehyung grins. “God, you’re such a brat sometimes.”    “Yeah, and I know you like it.”   He grabs your wrists before you can make another tickle attack and pins it above your head. You can tell that there’s no more time for jokes or any more playing around, not when you can feel his hard cock against your stomach.   “You smell good,” he sighs into your neck, inhaling deeply. “Cherry blossom? Peony?”   “Strawberries,” you answer. “You smell like sweat.”   “You’re gonna end up like me anyway.” Taehyung smiles and leans in to kiss you. It isn’t shy or chaste. His tongue licks into your mouth and you exhale, a strangled moan muffled against his lips as you melt against him. He finally has you where he wants and you let him take control.   The pair of you swap spit for a few minutes until he releases your hands, allowing you to curl your fingers into his shoulders as he caresses your waist.    Taehyung eventually breaks away with a playful glint in his eyes. “You wanna try the toys?”   You both look at the basket half across the room and he rolls off of you. You get to your feet to inspect it for yourself and discover an array of colourful gadgets, some that you’ve tried before and others that you’re sure needs to have an instruction manual with it.    “I’m not putting any of these dildos in me, Tae. I don’t know where they’ve been.”   “I know.” He lays with his head propped up by his hand and you eye something at the bottom of the basket. You pull out a leather whip and look at him. “Ooh, a classic pick there, sweetheart.”   A whip seems more sanitary considering it doesn’t have to go in anyone’s orifices.   “Is it?” You approach with a tiny smile, staring down the innocent man. “Roll over.”   “What?”   “I’ll whip you.” You grin and he blinks at you. More often than not, you’re the more submissive one in bed, but the idea of having Taehyung crying out and the idea of you cackling at his pain has him immediately rolling face down in intrigue and you stepping up on the bed.   He turns his face to the side. “Do you know how to do it?”   “How hard can it be?” There’s a pause. “But tell me if it hurts.”   “The point is to make it hurt, Y/N.”   “Yeah, but I don’t want to hurt you-hurt you.”   “I can handle it.” Taehyung smirks and you scoff.    Even in this position, he’s trying to maintain his dominance.   You grip it tightly and don’t count. Simply, with a flick your wrist, you slam the whip across his backside. It makes a loud cracking sound and you hear Taehyung sharply inhale. His teeth grit and you freeze, watching his expression carefully.   “How was it?”   “Is my back split open?” he asks, trying to look over his shoulder.   “No.”   “I think I might have to go to the ER.” He sits up completely, overdramatic in the way he fumbles around and his tone filled with some mischief. “I think there’s internal bleeding. Or my spine is broken. I wouldn’t be surprised.”   “It’s fine, Tae.” you laugh. So much for telling you to go for it. But you already had an inkling Taehyung wasn’t one for receiving pain. After all, he’s still your whiny baby who only eats vanilla yogurt. “Not your thing?”   “Not my thing.” He takes the whip from your hand and tosses it across the room. “I have a better toy in mind.”   You’re about to remind him you’re not gonna put any of those communal toys inside of you, but he instead walks over to his suitcase and starts tearing some clear packaging open with something pink inside. You read the label — it’s a remote control vibrating egg.   Your brows furrow. “When did you get that?”   “Two days before we left. Amazon prime, babe.”   “So that’s what you were looking at when you told me you were doing some online shopping?”   “Precisely.” Taehyung grins and you’re not sure if you should be pleasantly surprised or in dismay since the two of you have already made a pact not to buy anything else online. The treadmill bought on an impulse is still taking up half the space of the living room.   Before you can think too much, Taehyung gets it open and comes over. He nudges your thighs to open and you lay back, leaning against the headboard. You’re not that wet yet, if at all, but it doesn’t stay that way when his long fingers rub against your clit in circles.    With his other hand, he strokes against your slit and then sinks his index finger in knuckle deep. You throw back your head, moaning his name at the intrusion while he remains silent, intently watching your pink cunt squeeze. Taehyung curls his finger and swallows hard. The sloppy sounds of your cunt fill the room and he hums in satisfaction.   “Okay. Ready?”   “Uh-huh.”   The head of the cold egg meets your folds and it slowly enters. While the toy might not be big or long, the girth stretches against your warm walls and you keen. Taehyung makes a low noise, encouraging you to take it. When it’s in, he smiles brilliantly. “Good job, sweetheart. You did it.”   “Now what?”   “This, of course.” Taehyung dangles the remote in front of you and then like a psycho, he ramps it up to the highest possible setting. Intense vibrations are felt through your body instantaneously and you cry, head knocked back against the headboard as your velvet walls squeeze and tremble.   “T-Taehyung!”   “Good?”   “I-It’s too much!” You’re completely at his mercy and he takes advantage of it, drinking you in with a wolfish smile. You’re unable to muster a glare at him, reduced to a complete mess while your center leaks and drips onto the sheet. Still, you try to reach over to the remote.   He dodges when you lunge at him. “Nu-uh.”   Luckily, you get a hold of your husband and climb over to him. His arm is extended straight up, laughing as you try to snatch it from him. He waves it inches away to mock you while enjoying the sight of you quivering on top of him. “T-Tae!”   “Okay, okay.” He laughs and transfers it into his other hand, about to turn the setting down a notch. But right at the moment you’re about to snag it for yourself, the remote flies out of his hand. It falls through the gap between the wall and the headboard.   It clatters to the ground.   “Oh shit.”   “Taehyung!”   “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He rolls off the mattress and looks underneath the bed before abruptly standing. “I’m going to need a long stick or something.”   He starts to look around the room, searching for a tool to grab the remote that’s out of reach, and you don’t know if you should suffocate him with a pillow or facepalm yourself hard enough to get knocked out into a coma.   You can pull out the egg yourself, but the violent vibrations were beginning to thrum pleasure through you, so as your useless husband goes fishing for the remote, you finish the job. Your fingers play with your clit, rubbing the bud as your slick drips down your thighs and you come hard on the toy.   The same moment light flashes beneath your eyelids and your toes curl, Taehyung grabs the remote with the help of a rolled brochure and shuts it off. The both of you are winded for different reasons.   “You know, I'd say that was pretty hot if not for how stressful that actually was.”   “You’re an idiot.” You tug the toy out of you and bat him over lazily, feeling spent on how hard you came. “Now dump some sperm in me, idiot.”   Taehyung has a cheesy grin and climbs over you. Despite the struggles of grabbing the toy’s remote, he’s fully hard from the noises you were making. “I’d tell you to ask more nicely, but I’ll let it go.”   He aligns the head of his weeping cock to your swollen cunt and leans his weight into you. He starts to push in and you whine, gripping his forearms. As wet as you are, Taehyung is still well-endowed — less girthy than the toy, but there’s a considerable length to him.    When he bottoms out, you can feel him all the way to your throat.   He tucks sweaty strands of hair behind your ear and kisses you. “Sorry about earlier.”   “’t’s okay. It was fun,” you admit and he smiles, starting to work up a good rhythm. You feel hot in your face with the pressure of his body on top of yours, hardened nipples brushing against his chest. Your cunt pulses and squeezes around his length. It draws Taehyung’s groans into your neck.   “F-Fuck. You’re so tight.”   It feels good and you know he’s reveling in the pleasure too. His eyes are shut tight, the scrunch made between his brows and it entices you to reach up and kiss him to which he sweetly indulges you. Your tongues twine as you pant against each other and Taehyung starts to lose his pacing.   He bends your knee, hitting you at a deeper angle as his strokes become increasingly frantic and quick. You egg him on and he groans once more before he thrusts himself as deep as he can go and cums. Ropes of white paint your walls, the head of his cock against your cervix and filling your cunt and womb up. You can feel some of it dribbling out, seeping past your folds and when Taehyung’s about to withdraw, you quickly grab his forearm.   “Wait. Just stay put for a second. I have to keep it in.”   He nods and kisses your lips. “Okay.”   Taehyung nestles into you, nuzzling into your neck and you hope this is the one.

[Day Three]   There were lots of activities and amenities offered and advertised by Jimin during the introduction of the retreat, but you realize you might’ve missed over the most important one of all.   “How does that feel?” the massage therapist asks as she works a knot out of your shoulders and smooths your skin with the oil.   “Amazing,” you murmur from the corner of your mouth, melted against the table.    Couples massages were something you always scoffed at, but holy shit, it’s absolutely paradise. With the breeze blowing through the pitched tent and the glowing humidifier releasing a fresh scent, you’ve never been more relaxed as all the stiffness is worked out of you.   You open your eyes to see Taehyung enjoying it as well — though not as much as you are since he’s quite ticklish. Sometimes, he squirms a bit too much and his massage therapist is at a loss of what to do.   But when it’s all done, you feel like you’re in a new body. “Oh my god. I think I’m more flexible than before. Look, Tae!”   You stretch your leg and he giggles at how happy your mood is. “If I knew you liked it this much, I would’ve signed us up for one at the spy near the gym.”   Your eyes are wide, catching the sunlight. “Do you think they’re as good as this place?”   Taehyung grins. “Probably.”   “We should go when we get back then. Oh, do you wanna check out the library?”   “Sure.”   You grab his hand, lacing your fingers together and he smiles to himself.    It’s a free day without many planned activities, giving you both an opportunity to look around the retreat for yourselves and take it easy. And the pair of you take full advantage of the opportunity. Since morning, you were lazing around the yurt and after breakfast and the massages, you decide to lay in one of the hammocks by the trees while Taehyung naps with you.    Said man hasn't seen you this stress free in a while, so he happily indulges you in all your wishes. Even when night falls and you step away from the stage where Hyunjin is performing again to stargaze. It’s an odd activity for you since mosquitoes love to especially swarm around you when given the chance and on numerous occasions, you’ve been a moth landing spot.   But tonight, the breeze is soft and gentle, and you don't feel any tickles on your skin that isn’t Taehyung’s hand grazing against yours. The grass is pliant beneath your feet and the fairy lights twinkle far away enough that its luminescence doesn’t obstruct. You knock your heads back to view the horizon, allowing the darkness to engulf you and the stars to emerge.   “Remember Bali?”   “When you lost your passport?”   “When we went stargazing with the tour group,” Taehyung corrects. “It still wasn’t as beautiful as this.”   “You think everything in front of you is the most beautiful thing you’ve seen. You said that about the Eiffel and then Tokyo Tower.”   He laughs. “Hey, my mind doesn’t change that often. You’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve seen.”   You scoff, looking away from the sky towards him with a pout. He always knows how to lay on the sappiness without needing to blink. Your dear husband has always been shameless in that aspect and you adore him for it. “So I’m a thing to you now?”   “You know that’s not what I mean.” He wraps his arms around your waist. The both of you stare up at the sky. “Is that the big dipper?”   You look at where he’s pointing to the large clusters of stars. “I can’t see it. Maybe that’s scorpio.”   “Nah, I don’t think so.” Taehyung tries guessing, “It might be taurus or gemini. Or libra.”   “Aren’t you just naming astrological signs now?”   “Maybe.” He grins. “I’m a capricorn.”   “Yes, I know.” You two of you clearly don’t know anything about constellations or how to find them, but it doesn’t make the moment any less enjoyable. Yet when your necks start to ache, he takes your hand and strolls down the path through the trees. “Taehyung. What if we get lost?”   None of you have your phones or any flashlights. There’s only the crescent moon giving off its light. “Don’t worry. I have a great sense of direction.”   “You and I both know that’s not true.”   “You have a great sense of direction, so we won’t get lost,” he says and you sigh without putting much of an argument up. Not when you knew he was headed to the lake you had peeked at earlier in the afternoon, and now it was shimmering with the moonlight, reflecting the starry horizon in its water.   There’s a certain kind of peacefulness, a serenity that you would never get back in the city or even the suburbs. Certainly not without light pollution or the occasional car whizzing past. Here, there is none of those noises, none of those distractions, just you and Taehyung savouring the view⁠—   “Hey.” But of course, your mischievous husband has to have ulterior motives for coming all the way here. And you know there are ulterior motives by that glint in his eye and the sly smile he has.   “What?”    “Wanna take a dip?”   Your brows shoot to your hairline. “Are you crazy? It’s probably freezing! What if we get hypothermia and die?”   “For the record, you’d make one beautiful angel. But I’ll warm you up before it gets to that point.” Taehyung grins and starts stripping, tugging his shirt right off his head. It’s always been like this — him proposing something out of your norm, you try to voice your concerns, and then you’re the one who’s diving head first into it without hesitation and end up having more fun than he does.   “God, it’s so cold!”    The moment the water touches your toes, you recoil. But you brace yourself and continue onward with your entire body shivering. It’s your first time skinny dipping ⁠— something normally reserved for rebellious teenagers and most certainly not for late twenty-some year olds. Yet neither of you have qualms, even if you’re shrieking and Taehyung is laughing and following behind you.   “It’s freezing, Taehyung!”   “Come here.” He pulls you to him so your backside is pressed to his front and you wonder how Taehyung can be so warm all the time. The pair of you get waist deep into it and you turn around to grip him. Your husband smiles and holds onto you, eventually going far enough that the water reaches your shoulders. “See? Isn’t this nice?”   You hum, gazing up at the stars and the moon, the sight reflected on the water and how you’re pressed to Taehyung. “Seems like the beginning of a horror movie.” He laughs and your feet try to reach down to find stability, but you realize you can’t touch the ground anymore and your grip on him tightens. “Walk back a bit, Tae.”   “Why?”   “You know I can’t swim.”   His mouth curls. “But I like how you’re holding onto me. I won’t let go,” he adds after a long pause, “if you beg me not to.”   Your arms immediately come to loop around his neck and your legs wrap around his waist, latching onto him in a vice grip like a koala does to a branch. “Taehyung! I’m not kidding.”   “Oh...oh!” The bastard pretends that he’s gonna let go of you and actually does for a split-second. He laughs at your panicked expression. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding!”   You feign a pointed glare that turns out to be more of a pout. “You’re lucky I like you.”   “You only like me?”   “Yeah and if you keep going, I’m going to demote you from husband to friend.”   Taehyung makes a pained, sharp sound. “Can’t let that happen then.” He suddenly hoists you up higher, grip secure on your thighs and smiles brilliantly while you scoff.   You savour the view and the warmth of his body heat, but you’re slightly distracted. “Do you think anyone’s gonna steal our clothes, Tae?” You squint at the small pile near the shore.   “Who would?”   “I don’t know. What if a bear comes from the bushes and takes them? We’ll have to walk back naked.”   “I’m pretty sure there aren’t bears here, Y/N. Stop overthinking it.” Taehyung suddenly grabs a hold of your chin and turns your head for you to look only at him. Then, he kisses you in a soft and gentle way before the tip of his tongue meets the seam of your lips. You happily oblige, parting them and allowing him access to your tongue and giving him a taste of you.   The man hums in satisfaction as soft smacking noises fill the surroundings. You lean into his firm frame while Taehyung’s large hands slinks from your thigh to the curve of your ass. You feel his thumb probe against your folds.   “T-Taehyung.” His hard length is beneath you and you grind down on him, feeling empty. It draws a groan from his throat.   After a moment, you get his cock inside of you. The stretch soothes the itch you had, filling your cunt deliciously. But unlike the movies, it’s not enough for you. The water washes away the lubricant, each stroke rough and the glide slower than you’d like. So you beg him and the both of you are dragged up onto the shore again.   You turn on all fours. The pebbles uncomfortably dig into your knees, but it’s a distraction that blurs into the background when Taehyung pounds into you. You feel all of him, his body heat against yours, each thrusting movement flicking off the droplets of water from your skin. And when Taehyung turns your head to kiss you while rubbing at your clit, you cum around his cock.   He finishes as you beg for it and Taehyung’s sticky fluids leak down your thighs on the trek back.

[Day Four]   Taehyung blinks blearily, slowly coming to consciousness. He scratches his bed head and groans at how his muscles ache. But when he turns his head, the other side of the bed is cold and empty. His eyes widen in confusion and he feels more awake than before.   He checks the time and realizes he slept in, a total of ten hours, which isn’t a surprise considering how last night’s rendezvous continued and was more intense than usual. What is unusually, however, is that you’re gone.   But he soon finds you outside. Bathing in the sun. Laying in a hammock. Napping with a book next to you.   Your eyes flutter open as his shadow covers your figure. The corner of his mouth pulls.   “Morning.”   You sheepishly grin. “Morning.”    “What time did you get up?”   “Like an hour ago. The breeze was nice so I thought I’d do some reading, but I guess I accidentally fell asleep.”   “Looks like you’ve gotten comfortable.” Taehyung’s enormous smile aches his cheeks. You’ve fallen in love with this place more than he has, but he doesn’t mind whatsoever. He loves watching you have fun.   The two of you have breakfast, inhaling in the food, and then head to a meditation class on the grass led by Hyunjin. Typically, Taehyung has to convince you to take part in such a session and you’d usually wave it off as a waste of time. But there are no qualms or an ounce of hesitation in your expression when you head over.   “Now breathe in, and out, a steady stream of breath. Think about all that you are grateful for. Everything that has made your life amazing, and let that positive energy surround you as the negative energy releases.”   But while you’re eager, Taehyung, on the other hand, finds out that meditation is not cut out for him. He’s bored out of his mind from the lack of stimulation. Time feels like it’s dragging on slower, each second a minute and a minute is an hour. Somehow, meditating makes him feel even more exhausted than before and his mind ends up wandering.   Taehyung thinks about how he’s really craving some fatty burgers instead of the organic oatmeal and yogurt he had — how hot the weather is — how it’s hard to breathe — how sweat sticks to his skin.   “Hold your breath for three seconds and release for three seconds.”   He sighs and peels back an eye to see you with your hands pressed together, concentrated in following instructions. The corner of his mouth tickles into a smile.   As bored as he is, it’s worth seeing you happy.   //   The more excited you are about something, the more you run around from place to place and Taehyung’s resorted to looking for you. Luckily, the resort is small, so he finds you in front of the main building, chatting to a certain brunette with a half-moon smile and chubby cheeks.   “—heard that doggy actually works for some people, but for me, it doesn’t feel right...like…”   “The head of the cock isn’t right up against the cervix?” Jimin hums thoughtfully. “Have you tried angling your leg better? Sometimes you need to bend a bit and he needs to be leaning towards the side rather than just hovering straight on top.”   What.   Taehyung’s brows lift and he quickly approaches. Your face lights up when you see him. “Oh, hey.”   “I was looking for you.” Taehyung throws his arm over your shoulder and subtly tugs you into his chest. He looks at the other man, eyes narrowed in on him which he doesn’t seem to notice.   “Sorry, I was just caught up with Jimin.”   “What were you talking about?”   “What position is best for conception.” You blink innocently like it’s not a big deal you’re exploiting the details about your sex lives to another guy, and while he’s not embarrassed whatsoever, it was a bit too much information being shared for Taehyung’s liking. “Turns out elevating the hips might not help as much as we thought it does.”   “Huh.” Taehyung deadpans, “That’s interesting.”   “I know, right?” Your expression is bright, oblivious to his turmoil. At the same time, Hyunjin exits from the building in yet another flower crown and flowy skirt. She smiles at the both of you and joins Jimin’s side, planting a sweet kiss on his cheek and holding his hand.   “Hope I wasn’t interrupting anything important.”   You smile at her. “No, it’s okay.”   The woman nods and looks to her partner while her voice drops into a more private tone. “Just wanted to let you know that Taehoon and I are done.”   As if to validate her words, a timid yet tall man exits the building and they wave goodbye to one another before he walks off towards the parking lot. Jimin smiles. “Did you have fun?”   “Yeah. It was nice.”   Both you and Taehyung exchange expressions. He wonders if you’re thinking what he is or if he’s understanding the insinuations correctly.    As if they catch the inquisitive looks on your faces, they smile in a relaxed way. There’s no need to explain anything to either of you when you’re strangers, but they’re open enough and Hyunjin says, “Taehoon’s my second partner.”   “Second...partner?”    “Hyunjin and I are in an open relationship,” Jimin clarifies in a friendly manner. “It’s not really traditional, but it works well for us.”   “Oh.” Taehyung and you wordlessly bob your heads. He’s pretty sure they mentioned it during their introduction but it slipped his mind. They must get asked a lot of questions too since Hyunjin answers what he’s thinking, telling the both of you there’s not a lot of jealousy involved since they trust each other wholeheartedly and communicate a lot. And rather than finding it bizarre, you’re left intrigued. Taehyung notices as you walk away.   “Do you want an open relationship too?”   “You know it would never work for us.” You lean over, hugging his arm. “I’m too possessive for that.”   He laughs. “Then what about talking to Jimin about our sex positions?”   “He’s a professional.” You shrug. “I thought I could get helpful advice. Why?”   “Nothing, it’s just kind of weird.”    Jimin doesn’t look like a professional. He looks like just some dude in khaki shorts and a white shirt, obnoxiously bulging biceps, probably has rock hard abs, and he’s in an open relationship and clearly doesn’t mind chatting up you, aka Taehyung’s wife.   “Are you jealous?”   “What? No.” Taehyung scoffs, suddenly defensive and you give him that look like you know him better than that. “I just don’t think we don’t need to ask for help yet, and at least not about our positions. We’re gonna have a baby one way or another, Y/N. We just have to be patient.”   “Tell that to my dying eggs.” You walk off and Taehyung grins.   “My sperm’s strong enough that it’ll rescue your dying eggs.”   //   Evening eventually comes and you try to revel in the surrounding sights, the atmosphere of the entire place and the very cozy yurt you’ve grown to adore. It’s sad knowing that tomorrow you’ll have to depart from the resort. You regret not coming here with a more open mind. That way, you could’ve enjoyed and embraced this place much sooner.   “Actually, I’m kind of glad. I’m getting sick of them serving the same food.”   You’re shocked at your husband’s apathy. “But it’s antioxidant-rich—”   “I just want some fried chicken or a burger.”   You scoff. “That’s why the doctor told you to lower your blood sugar and you’re not even over forty yet.” But still, you’re taken aback that he’s not in love with the resort. “Out of everyone, I thought this would’ve been your haven. I was expecting you to beg me to build a cabin here or something to stay.”   Taehyung hums, leaning back into the chair. “I’m not saying the resort is bad. As long as I get to spend time with you, I like it. And I like that you like it.”   “Psh.” He always knows how to say the right thing, especially when he’s doing it absentmindedly and not trying to get something out of you. You lean over, hand lifting to squeeze his cheeks together and you turn his head to kiss him. Taehyung smiles at the soft and affectionate gesture. But you look at him with half-lidded eyes that mean more. “Wanna ditch?”   It’s the final celebration that Jimin and Hyunjin are happily hosting, but you don’t mind leaving for some more quality time with Taehyung, and he happily agrees.   The both of you sneak out of the crowd, stumbling back into the yurt, giggly and giddy like you’re still teenagers trying to be stealthy at midnight. Taehyung kisses you silly and soon, your back is hitting the mattress. He almost rips your dress with how hastily he tries to tear it off your head and you’re stuck for a moment until you manage to get it off.   But in spite of how childish your antics are or how Taehyung blows raspberries on your tummy, each one of his touches is intimate and loving. He holds your hips down and eats you out until you cum twice. Then you’re flipped onto your stomach with him on top of you — his cock is dug into your pussy, every draw and thrust delicious. Your walls pulse along his length and you moan his name and clutch the sheets with tight fists.   You relish in the pressure of his body pressed on top of yours as he pounds into you. It only takes a few minutes before he’s releasing into your womb, cumming hard enough that you feel it too.   He rolls off of you, spent, but you gather your energy and hold him down for a second round.   You’re a woman on a mission and you’re going to make sure you leave this resort with Kim Taehyung’s baby inside of you.

[Day Five]   The final day of the resort has arrived much to your dismay, and you feel sad enough to cry.   “Thank you so much for all you’ve done.”   “It’s our pleasure.” Hyunjin grins, her arms wrapped around Jimin’s. “We just hope you had a great time at our resort.”   “Yes, I really loved it.”   “Our doors are always open,” Jimin affirms. “If nothing’s stuck, you can always come back or if you’re ever looking for more siblings for the little one, you can come again too. We’re happy to welcome anyone that’s family back.”   You’re moved by their words and much to Taehyung’s dismay, you give a brief embrace to each of them. You also manage to see the newlywed couple, Hoseok and Rose, who are still smiling and somehow look even more in-love than when they arrived. Dahyun and Seokjin, as well, wish you luck on your adventures.    “We might be coming back real soon.” The woman sighs, hitching her thumb over her shoulder. “That husband of mine is planning to book another trip next month.”   “So soon?”   Dahyun nods with a long exhale. “I think he’s hoping I’m not pregnant so we can come here again.” Your laugh spurs on her own and you’re able to resonate with the hopelessness of husbands.   Everyone is boarding the same bus, but this is the last opportunity to gather when people are getting dropped off from different places. So you make sure to savour the moment, get your last goodbyes in, and Taehyung pulls out his phone to snap several pictures of you for keepsakes.   Then, the two of you board the bus with your luggage and settle in your seats.   “You know,” you pipe up and Taehyung turns to you. “Even if we didn’t conceive, it was still fun.”   He smiles while taking his hand. “Yeah? I’m glad.” Taehyung laces his fingers with yours and you lean your head on his shoulder as he, too, leans his head on top of yours.   The bus pulls out of the lot and onto the road. Jimin and Hyunjin wave with brilliant grins, and together, you and Taehyung watch the little resort become a particle in the distance.

[Epilogue]   This is terrible. Unexpected and spontaneous.   “I have bad news.” You’re leaning against the door frame of Taehyung’s office and at your tone of voice, your husband looks away from the computer screen with wide eyes.   “Are you divorcing me?”   “No.”   “Did you lose your job?”   “No.”   His entire body deflates in a sigh of relief and he leans back, hands grasping the armrests of his swivel chair. “Thank god because I just bought those new shake weights that were shown on TV.”   “Yea— wait. What?”   Taehyung’s bubbling laughter comes from his chest. “What is it?”   He doesn’t notice the stick in your hand, so you throw it at him. Luckily, Taehyung’s reflexes are still in good shape and he claps his hands together, catching the stick before it hits his head. But then his brows furrow in confusion.   “You’re probably going to need to wash your hands after that. I peed on it.”   He doesn’t answer. Your oblivious husband instead takes a long second to inspect the stick and his pupils dilate. He finally realizes what it is and looks carefully. In the meanwhile, you hitch your breath, feeling unsettled. But then the most enormous smile stretches into his cheeks.    It almost looks like his smile is about to break his face.   “You’re pregnant,” Taehyung murmurs.   “I sure am.”   He looks at you. And then the stick. Then he looks at you again. Taehyung searches your expression in alarm as your words echo back to him. “Why is this bad news? D-did you change your mind? Do you not want kids?”   You shake your head. “No. This is fantastic news. I just wanted an excuse to go to the retreat again.”   He laughs and exhales a long breath. Taehyung scoots his chair over using the heels of his feet and comes to you. He throws his arms around your torso in a secure embrace while his ear is pressed gently to the flat plane of your stomach that’ll soon swell in the coming months. “God, you’re going to be the death of me, woman.”   Taehyung’s brown eyes are lit with mirth and you ease into his hug as your fingers comb through his dark locks. Finally, you’re going to be parents. After waiting and hoping for so long, it was now on the horizon. There’s a sense of fear in you both, but you’re overwhelmed with euphoria and excitement.   “We can always go back for the next kid.”   “I haven’t even had this one yet and you’re already thinking of another.”   “I can’t help it.” Taehyung grins, looking up at you and you lean down to kiss his smile.   You have a feeling this baby’s going to be loved beyond belief.

[miss-writes-a-lot]

@ozqrowweek Day 3 - Pirates

(going on strong with day 3! Let's go!!)

Pairing: Ozpin/Qrow

Summary: Pirate Qrow Branwen is captured by the navy but is soon sprung free by an unlikely hero.

Warning(s): violence, bad writing, wrong history about pirates, crimes

_____________

Day 3 - Pirates

Qrow really needed to stop getting arrested by the navy. 

He also really needed to stop employing his niece's friends to work for him so his chances of getting arrested by the navy would lessen the more he sailed. Of course, the others had been hauled away – most likely written off as dumb teenagers that were unfortunate enough to have crossed paths with and were ‘taken hostage.’ No doubt Yang and/or Ruby (who had snuck on his ship a few hours prior) would try and fight with the guards. Yang would get an excellent uppercut but ultimately be apprehended and thrown out like the last ten times.

He would have to try a little harder to escape than the others. He was stuck in a heavily fortified cell with his hands tied over his head with some rope. He had been stripped of his weapons, his cash, and even his shoes for some reason. He precariously hovered over the suspiciously stained floor of the cell as he tried to wear down the rope, but all he was doing was giving himself a rope burn.

He sighed, his chin falling to his chest. “This is gonna be a lot harder than usual, huh?”

He scanned the cell for something he could use, a ledge he could stand on or maybe a vent with a loose top but all he could find was the window behind him that looked out to the port of the naval jailhouse. But something was off. There weren’t that many naval officers stationed outside watching his ship. 

It wasn’t that he was a dangerous pirate but they always had at least 40 - 50 men outside for each crew they brought in. It seemed as if there were almost none, though the thick bars made it near impossible to see the outside properly. 

The sounds of a struggle followed soon after from outside the door. A couple of bodies hit the ground, one slammed into the wall and then smacked onto the floor. Qrow struggled against his restraints even more.

He would have loved to think it was his sea fairing sister deciding to have mercy on him and for once spring him free of his disgusting prison, but he knew that it was most likely a ruthless pirate come back to free his crewmates and shed blood whenever and where he could. 

The rope still refused to budge. A pair of footsteps came to his door. His heart was racing. He shut his eyes and prayed to the brothers above to not let him die horribly at the hands of another pirate. The metal door screeched open. The click of heeled boots came slowly up to Qrow until he felt the figure’s warm presence an inch from his face.

“If you’re gonna kill me, just do it! I’m wide open!”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, dear.”

Qrow opened one of his eyes. To his surprise, Ozpin Pine was standing in front of him, a sliver cutlass in one hand and a big ring of keys in the other. He had stripped away the fancy nobleman garb in exchange for the black and ripped coat Qrow had left at his place a few weeks ago, a flowy white shirt, a pair of black slacks, and long, heeled black boots.

“Oz? What’re you doing here?”

Ozpin rolled his eyes, “I’m here to get you out. Was that not obvious?”

“What?”

He reached up and started undoing his restraints, “Poor thing, the conditions they have you in are abysmal.”

“Oz, seriously. What’s going on?”

“I’m springing you free, my dear. It would be incredibly difficult to maintain a relationship while you’re behind bars.”

“Thought your old man didn’t want you hangin’ with the likes of me.”

“If I let my father decide everything for me, I wouldn’t be able to wipe my own ass,” Ozpin unwrapped the rope from his wrists. He fell into the taller man’s embrace, steadying himself on the other’s feet like a toddler, “Easy now. We don’t know what’s happened on these floors.”

“I can’t believe you actually came…”

Ozpin smirked, “Of course I did. Life would be painfully boring without you crashing through my bedroom window every morning. And I…well, I…cherish you and your crew quite a bit.”

Qrow’s eyes went wide. “Did you just say that you loved me but in like a really fancy way?”

“I suppose I did. What are you going to do about it?”

Qrow grinned. He leaned in to press a kiss to his lover’s lips but a stampede of naval officers came booming down the hall.

Ozpin sighed, “I suppose we’ll have to save this for later. Let’s get you back to your ship.”

“I need my gun. There’s no way we can get through all those guys with just a sword.”

“Glynda’s handling it.”

“This is crazy.”

“Since when has that ever bothered you?”

Qrow shrugged. “Point taken.”

He ushered his lover out of the prison cell and down the opposite side of the hallway. The seasoned pirate couldn’t help but notice his partner’s bloodied knuckles as they sped through the prison.

“What happened to your hand?”

“Ah, a few punches were thrown on my way up here.”

“You punched somebody?”

“A few somebodies, yes.”

“God, I love you.”

“I’m aware.”

They rounded the corner just as Ozpin’s advisor, Glynda Goodwitch, met up with them. She threw Qrow his gun and his sword as they continued zooming down the hallways. On the last floor, they were cornered on both sides by naval soldiers.

“Fuck.”

“Fuck is right.”

“What do we do?” Glynda asked, “They are only three of us.”

“I think we can handle ‘em,” Qrow replied.

“How many bullets do you have?”

“As many as they want to believe I have.”

“We are so screwed.”

Qrow smirked. With one hand wrapped around his pistol and the other intertwined with Ozpin’s hand, he aimed for the crowd of navy men charging toward them.

One way or another, he was getting out of there with his lover and his advisor alive.

[duuhrayliegh]

male chivalry

warnings: okay so there is a trigger warning of sexual harassment and attempted sexual assault, language, men being gross, protective!bucky, angst a bit, i think that’s it, if you see anything else let me know

word count: 3230 :)

a/n: idk why it took me so long to finish this, but it’s here now!!! also this is based off this post from @teaboot (just the op bc the rest of it pissed me off :)) i hope y’all like it. i hope it’s what y’all expected idk, i’m proud of it.

i really hope i did the topics justice, if you don’t think i did, please shoot me a message and help me figure out how to do better. <3

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open! also this is not beta read, so all mistakes are my own.

xoxo ray

ray’s m.list

************************************

It had been about three weeks since Bucky had first met the group of four at the protest. Bucky made sure to check in with Steve and let him know what he was doing. Steve was always worrying about Bucky, which was totally understandable because of everything they had been through.

Bucky’s day was a relaxed one with little to no time to dawdle. Over these three weeks, he had learned more from an eighteen year old than he ever thought he would. It was easier to open up to her, for some reason. Bucky hadn’t fully figured that out yet either, but he wasn’t going to question it.

Bucky had been going to his court mandated therapy with Dr. Raynor, to say they were making progress would be a lie. Honestly, Bucky was making more progress with the new individuals in his life. They knew what he did as the Winter Soldier-- no they know what the Winter Soldier did, Cassie made sure the distinction between the two was crystal clear. Bucky was still a bit cautious around them, not wanting to hurt them or be a burden to them.

It amazed Bucky how open they were with each other. Back in the 40’s, you didn’t express your feelings. Especially if you were a man, for fear of being labeled something unsavory. Even stranger still to Bucky was the encouragement and support that everyone gave to those in hard times. It warmed Bucky’s heart to see Penny comforting Freddie after his recent break up.

“Freddie and Ted had been together a little over six months,” Cassie explained to Bucky one night after the group had dispersed from the dining table. Bucky and Cassie were standing over the sink washing the dinner plates and cutlery. “Freddie was so in love with him. I thought Ted felt the same, but I guess that’s just how it goes, right?”

Bucky shrugged, this was one of his first experiences with modern romance. Dating in the 40’s was very rigid, which was to be expected, but nowadays everything is very fluid. It truly fascinated Bucky.

“I honestly don’t know.” Bucky shrugged as he dried the pristine plates. Just as he began to get lost in thought, Evie pulled him into a subject that he hadn’t thought of in a real long time.

“What was it like with women in the forties, Buck?” Bucky blinked at her and considered his answer carefully. The group had been teaching him how to handle some subjects sensitively.

“To be honest? The last date that I went on was to the World Expo of Tomorrow in 1943, the night before I shipped out to England.” He turned, leaning his weight on the counter behind him and crossing his arms over his chest. “I went with Steve, this was before he was Captain America, so when he was a little ol’ gangly thing. I had hooked us up with two women, one for me and one for Stevie, their names were Dot and Connie, I think.”

“No, no, that’s not what I mean, Buck. What was it like with women?”

Bucky tilted his head in question.“What do you mean?”

“What was it like with them? Like, how were they treated as a whole?”

“Oh, uh I think they were treated well? My Ma always told Steve and I to treat women with respect, so we did.”

“Right, but what about everyone else? How did they treat women?” Bucky was confused by the question and he began to think that he was giving the wrong answers.

“Um, I guess I don’t know. I guess they were treated how they are today?” Both of the girls in front of him released disdained scoffs.

“Well, that’s unfortunate, right Cas?” Cassie nodded at Evie and dropped her head in disappointment.

“Why do you say that?” Bucky asked. He was genuinely curious about what the girls were referring to. “I mean, I get that the treatment of women hasn’t always been good but it’s not that bad right?” The girls shared a knowing look, and then Evie sighed. She hauled herself out of her chair and nodded to Bucky.

“Alright, let’s go take a walk, just you and me.”

“Where are we going?”

“Oh, just a couple blocks away to the Walgreens. Sound okay?” Bucky agreed, grabbing his jacket and waiting for Evie by the doorway. “We’ll be back soon, Cas.”

“Uh, are you sure that’s a good idea, Evelyn?” Bucky had only ever heard Cassie use Evie’s full name when she was getting in trouble.

“Yeah, we’ll be fine, Cas, I swear.” Evie glanced at Bucky, “Besides, I’ve got a Sargent escorting me, so we’ve got nothing to worry about.” She threw a smile to her older sister whose face was just a veil of worry and doubt.

Bucky and Evie exited the apartment building and neither of them had said anything since. Bucky was wondering what this whole exercise was all about, but he wasn’t going to say anything until Evie did. The pair walked up onto a crosswalk, causing them to stop and wait so Evie was able to turn the man beside her.

“So, before we go any further, I just want to set the scene for you.” She took a calming breath and it was now that Bucky realized that this was the first time that she was noticeably scared. His brows furrowed and he nodded as she continued. “It’s ten o’clock on a Wednesday night and you’re in Brooklyn, walking to your local Walgreens because you need tampons.” Bucky huffed out a small laugh as Evie playfully glared at the man.

“Yeah, yeah. The female menstrual cycle is hilarious as is the pink tax that is put on feminine hygiene products. Laugh it up, James.” She shook her head and pulled Bucky closer to the front of a building. “I’m trying to tell you something, ya asshole. So, you see that it’s dark outside because it’s late but you decide to risk it anyway because you have a flight to catch at four the next morning. You leave your apartment and you are greeted with this.” She gestured to the expanse in front of her.

“Alright, let’s go. And just a word of wisdom real quick before we really get going. Women are considered fragile but I’ve never seen anything as easily wounded as a man’s ego.”

“Wow, that’s quite a pearl.” Bucky caught up to Evie as she made her way down the street.

“So being a woman and even more so, being a woman at night, means that you have to constantly be on guard.” As they were walking, a man in a greasy white tank top passed them. The man’s head turned and he scanned Evie’s body.

“Goddamn, that’s a sweet little body there, baby girl.” Bucky’s head snapped around to the man, but Evie kept walking. Bucky looked over to Evie with concern riddling his features.

“Hey, sweetcheeks! Let me talk to you for a while!” The greasy man was now following Evie and Bucky. “I bet I can show you a better time than he can, baby girl. Come on, let me talk to you.” He reached his hand out, gripping Evie’s arm and pulling her to face him.

“Please don’t touch me.” “Get your fucking hands off her, you dick.” The man took a step backwards away from the pair.

“Well, fine you bitch! I didn’t want you anyway, fucking fat ass.”

“Hey, you don’t just get to fucking walk away, you jackass! Apologize to her.”

“Why should I apologize to her? I was giving her a compliment.” Bucky’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. Did this guy just fucking--

“Okay, buddy.” Bucky went to approach the man to settle their disagreement when Evie stopped him.

“James, leave it. Let’s go.” She kept walking and Bucky didn’t want to leave her alone, not after that whole debacle.

“What the fuck was that Evie?” He questioned quickly, she shook her head in response but never verbally responded to him. A few paces later, the pair was about to pass a group of men leaned up against the brick wall behind them. Brown paper bags crunched around bottles were grasped in their hands. Drunken laughter was ringing out through the near empty streets.

“Hey baby! Why don’t you come on over here so we can talk to ya!” One of the men began to step in front of Evie effectively stopping her movement. The eighteen year old took a few steps backwards, coincidentally into Bucky’s chest. His arms came up to meet hers, about to move in front of her in a protective stance.

“Woah, you got a bodyguard baby?” The man tilted his head and stared at Evie. “You know you don’t need him sweetheart.”

“Damn, baby girl. You’re fine as hell.” Another man walked to stand next to the first. “What do I gotta do to get you in my bed?”

“Please leave us alone.”

“No, baby girl I don’t think that’s what’s going to happen.” Bucky stepped in front of Evie protectively.

“I think she told you to leave us alone.” The two men in front of Bucky didn’t waver. Two raised brows and a fit of laughter later, they still maintained their ground.

“Why? You guys going somewhere to fuck? Already got a piece of that ass and don’t want to share it big man?”

“That’s just cold. You gotta share sometime. And it’s just easier to do it now rather than later.” Evie trembled behind Bucky and leaned up so only Bucky could hear her.

“Come on Bucky, let’s just go back to the apartment.” She tugged on his right arm, fingers digging into his soft flesh. Bucky was sure that he would have crescent shaped indentations where her nails laid in because of how much she was gripping him.

Bucky’s eyes flicked up and down the two men in front of him, assessing how much of a threat they were. They were clearly enough of a threat to frighten Evie to the point of wanting to go home. Bucky gave Evie a stiff nod, not taking his eyes off of the men.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going baby? We’re just getting started!” One of them yelled at the pair as he reached out to grab Evie’s forearm. A split second later, Bucky’s left hand balled into a fist and he launched it at the man’s face. A loud crack resounded and a groan left the man’s mouth as he hit the ground. A look of shock fell across the other’s faces as they saw Bucky standing over their fallen comrade. The group took several steps away from the pair, holding their hands up in surrender.

“Don’t you ever touch a woman without her permission, you fucking prick.” Bucky then turned quickly, grabbing Evie’s wrist tightly and hauling her away from the men. Several paces later, Bucky still held a tight grip on the girl's arm.

“Bucky, you’re kind of hurting me.” Evie’s voice broke through Bucky’s barriers. He let up on how fast he was walking and then dropped Evie’s arm.

Worried eyes scanned her body for any bruising, “I’m so sorry, doll. Are you okay?” Evie laughed as she was rubbing her sore wrists.

“Bucky, that’s normal for any woman. Ever.” Shaking her head, she began walking back towards the apartment. “We could’ve kept on going to Walgreens, but I wasn’t sure your fragile heart could take it.” Bucky drew in his brows and a deep frown etched itself into his features.

“What the hell do you mean that’s normal, Evelyn?” He thrust his arm behind them, gesturing to what they just went through. “Nothing about that was normal.” Still shaking her head, the eighteen year old shrugged her shoulders.

“It’s normal for women.” She glanced at Bucky as she continued on her way. “Also, I know that you were probably just defending my honor or protecting me or whatever, but I want you to really think back, Buck. Think about when you were picking up women in the forties, did you ever push when they didn’t want to have that drink with you? Did you continuously ask for them to dance with you?”

“No, I told you. My Ma raised me the right way.” They walked up to the apartment building and Bucky reached for the door handle. Evie began making her up the stairs, Bucky not far behind her. She stopped suddenly, a few flights before Cassie’s apartment.

“What about your friends?” Bucky was taken aback. His memories were still a bit fuzzy about those times, but he could remember clearly enough. Although he wasn’t quite sure what she meant by the questions she was asking.

“What are you getting at Evie?” He huffed while opening the door to Cassie’s apartment. Freddie and Penny were lounged on the couch with an almost empty bottle of wine. Cassie’s head shot up at the sound of the two walking in the doorway. Evie dumped her things off on the granite countertop and turned on her heel to stare at Bucky.

“Did you ever stop your friends when women said no?” The quiet laughter between Penny and Freddie stopped suddenly as Evie’s question hung in the air. All eyes were on Bucky as he gulped and thought back to the times at the bars. Out with Steve and the other Howling Commandos, did they ever do that? He tried to think of a time when they pushed for what they wanted to happen. Of a time when the woman they were pursuing reluctantly gave in because they wouldn’t leave her alone. Evie didn’t wait for an answer, she could see that he was processing everything.

“So why did you stop those guys back there?” Her brows raised and her head tilted in question. Bucky took a deep breath and was about to answer when Evie cut him off. “By punching that guy out there, you’re a hero and we should all thank you and congratulate you for doing the right thing.” She stepped closer to Bucky and the three in the living room understood where Evie was going.

“What do you think would have been said if I would’ve punched him? Sure, you would’ve said something snappy and nice about how I can take care of myself. The general public though? They would say that I overreacted.”

“Easy Evie, he’s still learning.” Cassie said quietly. Bucky was thankful for that, he still did have a lot to learn but it felt like Evie was attacking him. That’s the point, you fucking dumbass. If you had been berating her for putting herself in danger by punching that guy, you would think she was reckless.

“Her point, Bucky, is that the double standard for men and women goes beyond what we expect. Everyone goes crazy for the knight saving the damsel, but everyone hates the damsel for saving herself.” Freddie explained from the comfort of the couch. Bucky nodded, starting to understand the concept. “And her questions about your old buddies. That has to do with the fact that you’re part of the problem.”

“What problem is that?” Bucky was honestly scared to know the answer but he knew to fully learn, he had to get all the facts, both good and bad.

“Stunting the growth of feminism. Being one of the people perpetuating the fact that it’s okay for men to be violent, but not for women.”

“Violence in the form of defending oneself in any capacity.” In Bucky’s line of work, he sees tons of capable and strong women. Natasha, Okoye, Shuri, Sharon, he could think of so many. Then he tried to think of when any of them got the limelight like Steve or himself.

“So it’s like anytime that there would be press releases for the team, and the interviewers would come and ask us questions,” he paused to think how to word what he wanted to say, “they always ask the guys about like super important things like how we’re keeping the city safe and stuff. But when they talk to the girls, they ask about their workout schedule and if they can wear underwear under their suits?”

“Yes, it’s exactly like that Bucky. That’s just a different form of it.” Evie replied quickly. She came up to hug Bucky. “I didn’t mean to attack you or anything, but this is something that we all feel is really important for you to grasp now that you’re back out there.”

“And now that you can recognize when it’s happening, the next important step is to stop it before it happens.” Penny yelled from the living room as she downed the last of the bottle in her hand.

“I’m so sorry, Evie. I didn’t know.”

“I know, I’m sorry too. You’re still figuring stuff out, but I needed you to see what it was really like for women.”

“Okay.” Bucky nodded. “How can I help this situation?” The group exchanged proud looks.

“Well, educate everyone around you. Don’t let it happen when you’re around.” Cassie said as she walked into the kitchen to crack open another bottle of wine. “And just support women. Push our problems into the public’s eye.” Bucky smiled, he could handle that, he was good at that.

Considering he was on his way to becoming a member of the Avengers, he would be able to influence from up high. He could openly support groups that were run by women, for women. He was used to standing in the background for things he didn’t believe in, so standing for something that he did was going to be a cakewalk.

A concern floated into the forefront of Bucky’s mind. He looked down at Evie, who had just recently released him from her death grip of a hug. “You know how to defend yourself right?”

Evie’s brows raised in a challenging manner, “Do I look like I don’t know how to defend myself?” The man shook his head and smiled as the surrounding group laughed. Cassie poured a glass of wine and cracked open a bottle of beer for Bucky.

They all made their way to the comfy couches to snuggle in for a movie night, satisfied with their teachings for the night.

“What are we watching tonight?”

“Well, in the spirit of feminism, we are going to watch Legally Blonde.” Penny commented as she picked up the remote. “And it’s Freddie’s favorite so yeah.”

The lights clicked off as the opening credits ran for the movie. Bucky looked around his group of friends as they giggled at the screen. Evie had her head in Cassie’s lap and she was stretched across the sofa with her feet tucked under Bucky’s thigh. Freddie and Penny were curled up in the loveseat across from where Bucky was. Pieces of popcorn and glasses of red wine were being passed from person to person, with the exception of Evie who was still underage. The energy surrounding the five of them was something Bucky hadn’t experienced in a long time and he wasn’t going to give it up anytime soon either.

A large grin overtook his face, although today was one of the harder lessons for him to learn, he wouldn’t want anyone else to be teaching him.

***********************

@mishaandthebrits

[doubleleoenergy]

ii. Serial Killer, Lolita Series

Sneak up on you really quiet. Whisper, "Am I what your heart desires?" I can be your ingenue.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: bestfriendsdad!Andy Barber x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, mentions of erection and male masturbation, lewd thoughts, drinking, mentions of domestic violence, murder, and divorce

Words: 2893

Summary: Andy spends an evening with y/n and learns about her hopes, dreams, and sexual relations

Andy Barber was straightening his tie against his grey button down when he walked into the hallway from his bedroom, the smell of bacon wafting through his nostrils as he followed the scent to the kitchen.

“Good morning, Andy.” Y/N’s voice held that sickening sweet seduction he had gotten used to over the past few days. It was seven o’clock in the morning, and the fact that she sounded so chipper had Andy amused. His son was not a morning person, neither were any of the other boys staying with them.

He turns the corner towards the kitchen counter and takes in the sight of her. She’s ready for her first day as an intern for him, though her outfit doesn’t seem to be the most conservative for an attorney’s office. Her tight black skirt with white lines is barely covering her ass, and there’s a small slit up the right side that is showing more skin, if that’s even possible. She’s paired it with a simple black tank top that is cropped to reveal just the tiniest bit of skin on her abdomen, his eyes trailing down her toned legs to her black strappy stilettos that finish off the look. Andy has to look away and busy himself with his briefcase in order to stop himself from coming in his trousers.

“Morning, y/n.” He chokes out, reorganizing the files in a folder he had pulled out. Y/N slides a plate beside him, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor as she walks directly to his side, holding out a freshly brewed cup of coffee.

He takes the cup in his hand appreciatively, eyeing the plate of bacon, eggs, and toast that she had slid over to him. “Thank you, but you didn’t have to do any of this.” Andy takes a sip of coffee before setting his mug down beside the plate, picking up the fork and knife before diving into the meal.

“I know I didn’t have to, but we can’t let you go to the office on an empty stomach, right boss?” She teased, her manicured nails tapping gently on the counter next to him. God how he wished to feel those nails scratching against his scalp.

“Well thank you.” He responds, trying not to think about how she had just called him boss and how it made it incredibly wrong to be thinking about her like he had. The past few days had been rough, watching y/n saunter around the house in her sinful outfits, teasing the other boys and stealing glances in Andy’s direction. He had fucked into his fist every night since he saw her in that damn bikini.

As Andy finished eating y/n cleaned up the dishes, drying them and putting them away where they belonged in the appropriate cabinets and drawers. She was eager for her first day in the office, and honestly happy to be working somewhere where she was already familiar with the boss. 

“That was great, y/n, thank you again.” He wiped his mouth off on a napkin before pulling his briefcase shut, y/n taking his plate and mug and cleaning them in the sink before drying her hands.

“Anytime, I appreciate the carpooling to work as well.” Her fingers reached for her purse on the edge of the counter, following Andy out into the garage and sliding into the passenger seat of his pristine Audi. It was much flashier than her ten-years-too-old Ford Focus. She could get used to this lifestyle for the rest of the summer.

Andy and y/n spent the entire drive to the office making small talk, while Andy tried his hardest not to glance at her supple thighs in her thin skirt. Soon enough they arrived at the office, Andy gesturing for y/n to follow him inside the large office building.

Passing through the doors, Andy says a quick hello to the colleagues he passed, waving them over to gather inside their large conference room.

“Alright everyone, I’ll make this quick. This is y/n, she’s our new intern for the summer so please, be kind and help her to get the most out of her time here.” Andy’s eyes scanned the crowd of people, noticing the way the men in the office all lusted over her, their eyes dark with attraction.

As Andy dismissed everyone, Neal fucking Loguidice strides forward with confidence, extending his hand out to y/n’s. “Neal Loguidice, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Y/N seems to be enjoying the attention, standing up straighter as she takes his hand in hers. “Thank you, Neal. The pleasure is all mine.”

“How about I show you around the office? You know, as an assistant district attorney I can answer any questions you have about this place.” Before Andy can protest, Neal puts a hand on the small of y/n’s back, guiding her out of the conference room and walking her down the hall. Andy hates the way he grits his teeth, the hand not holding his briefcase forming into a tight fist by his side. Why was he even jealous? He had no reason to be, didn’t he?

Andy spent the rest of the morning answering phone calls and meeting with clients, though he couldn’t help but keep his eyes trained on y/n anytime he left his office. She had picked up lunch for the entire department, created copies for a staff meeting, and was unfortunately still being followed around by that slithering snake Neal. Who did he think he was?

He tried not to let it get to him, but as he walked past y/n’s makeshift desk after a coffee break, he watched as Neal leaned over her. He was teaching her how to scan documents to their respective folders, his eyes staring directly down y/n’s shirt to catch a glimpse of her perky tits. That was it, he had had enough.

“Neal.” Andy clenched his jaw as he spoke, watching as the man’s eyes lingered briefly still on y/n’s tits before meeting his gaze. “A word in my office. Now.” He barked.

Neil walked with confidence into Andy’s office, shutting the door behind him before slumping into the chair in front of Andy’s desk, a smug smile plastered on his face. “What can I do for you, Andrew?” Neal challenged, crossing his left leg over his right.

“You need to keep your eyes and your hands to yourself with y/n, it’s disgusting and she’s one of my son’s best friends. I’m not going to let you disrespect her like that, and neither would HR if they found out.” He growled, his eyes growing dark. Neal puts his hands up in protest before he stands, backing towards the door.

“Whoa, those are some big accusations without any evidence, Barber. I was just showing our intern around.” He’s still got that smug look on his face that Andy wishes to smack off him, though he knows he can’t. Neal opens the office door, walking out and heading back to his own office, leaving y/n to work by herself at her desk.

It was fucked up that he was lecturing Neal about the way he looked at y/n while knowing he’d jerked off into his hand every night fantasizing about her. But he wasn’t acting on anything, it was just some harmless fantasies, he was newly divorced after all. This was just lust, wasn’t it?

The rest of the day went by fast, Andy moving from meeting to meeting with clients and y/n working diligently on getting acquainted with their latest cases and filing the paperwork into the appropriate folders on their server.

Andy shut his office door a little after six o’clock, locking it behind him before strolling over to where y/n sat at her desk, texting on her phone.

“Are you ready to head out for the evening?” He asked, watching as she stood up beside him, only a couple of inches shorter than him in her heels.

“Yes, Jacob just texted me. Him and the guys are out bar hopping with some, as he put it, ‘absolute tens’ and won’t be home until late.” She follows him out of the office building, watching as he locks the front doors behind them before sauntering over to the passenger side of his car.

“That’s fine, why don’t I order us some takeout, I know a little place by the house that serves the best pad thai.” Andy and y/n get into the car as he starts it up, the vehicle roaring to life under them. “I would love that, thank you.” 

It’s a quiet ride back to the office, y/n scrolling through Instagram as the radio plays softly, the car filled with the lyrics to a Lady Gaga song. Andy parks the car back in its usual spot in the garage before walking inside and dropping his briefcase on the counter.

“I’m gonna take a quick shower, I’ll order the food when I get out and then we can relax, I’m sure today was a lot for you to take in.” Andy assured, loosening the tie around his neck.

“That sounds great, thank you Andy.” Y/N bounds up the stairs as well, letting her body muscles relax under the heat of the shower. Downstairs, Andy is doing the same, except he’s got a cold shower running to rid him of his thoughts from the day. How y/n’s skirt would ride up as she bent down to pull a copy from the copier, the way her lips pursed, and brows furrowed perfectly as she focused on her computer screen. How did her little actions send his brain into such a tizzy?

It wasn’t long before he had calmed his thoughts and pulled on a pair of grey sweats and a navy-blue t-shirt, calling the restaurant and placing a delivery order for two pad thai dinners. As Andy waited for the food to arrive he sat down on the couch, fumbling with his phone until he heard footsteps from the stairs, his eyes trailing over the silky baby blue short shorts and front-tied top that barely covered her breasts, her nipples hard through the fabric.

“Is the food here yet?” She asked, plopping down beside Andy on the couch, her leg just barely grazing him as she sat. Just as Andy went to reply the doorbell rang, immediately standing up and grabbing his wallet from the counter. He pulled the heavy front door open, greeting the gentleman and handing over the money, including a generous tip, in exchange for the bag of food. 

As he walked back into the living room, he noticed y/n had gotten up and placed two bottles of beer on the coffee table, careful to include the thick grey coasters below them.

“Thanks.” He mumbled, emptying the contents of the bag onto the table before handing over one of the takeout boxes to her. She opened it delicately, her fork twisting into the container before pulling out some of the contents and chewing it thoughtfully.

They both sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds being the scraping of their silverware and the occasional movement of a beer bottle on and off the coasters. “So…” Andy started, swallowing a bite of his dish. “What made you want to be an attorney? S’not very often that I see someone interested in the profession.” Or someone like her, he meant, though he tried not to come off as if a woman like her couldn’t do the job.

There was an expression that flashed across y/n’s face, something he hadn’t seen yet, a twinge of sadness? “Life circumstances. I actually want to be a defense attorney, specifically.” Andy finished taking a swig from his beer, setting it back down.

“Interesting, are you from the area? Or, at least, close to Columbia?” He questioned.

“No, I’m from Ohio actually. It’s a shit place, only really good for driving through to get to your destination.” Y/N set her half-eaten container on the table, sitting back against the couch.

“Your family must miss you, with you all the way at Columbia.”

“My aunt and I talk every day, s’not much to miss.” Y/N responded; brows knitted into a frown.

“That’s not true, I’m sure she misses you. What about your parents? I’m sure they miss you when you’re gone too.”

That struck a nerve with y/n, she didn’t talk about her family to anyone, she hadn’t even told Jacob or the other guys about her family life. Something about Andy made her feel comfortable, though, her eyes focused on her lap while she picked at a loose hangnail.

“Well, that’s kinda why I wanted to become a defense attorney. My uh-my dad used to beat the shit out of my mom when I was younger.” Her face flashes a few different emotions, pain, anger, guilt, as she swallows a lump in her throat. “Don’t really know why he would’ve been with her in the first place, what’s the point of wanting to be with someone if you just want to pummel their face every day?” Andy listened intently; his food abandoned on the coffee table as well.

Y/N isn’t sure whether to continue with the story or not, deciding she’d already gotten through the first part, might as well finish. “I went to my aunt’s one day, I was nine at the time, and my aunt got a call and she was…beside herself.” She pauses, lips pressed in a grim line. “I guess my mom wanted to leave my dad and he went ballistic, loaded his pistol and emptied a few shots into her. She didn’t survive, of course, and my dad got life without parole.” Y/N cleared her throat.

“Anyhow, I went to live with my aunt, excelled in school, got nearly a full ride to Columbia and have dreamed of becoming a defense attorney for domestic violence and sexual assault victims ever since. I think I’d make a damn good attorney. I’d love to see the look on the guilty faces as I get justice for their victims.” Her voice regained its confidence, her body relaxing back as she finally took a sip from her beer, trying to look unphased.

“I…” Andy started, y/n waving her hand in dismissal. “It’s all good, I’ve moved past it, mostly. You don’t have to say the whole ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ shit. I’ve heard it all before.” Y/N took another long swig from her beer, swallowing it before pointing in his direction.

“What about you, what made you divorce Mrs. Barber? Jacob doesn’t mention her at all, only that you divorced last December.” Andy lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding during her entire story.

“Just wasn’t meant to be. We’d been together our whole lives practically and I woke up one day and realized I didn’t love her anymore. We were always fighting, and it wasn’t worth it to try and make it work.” Why he was explaining this to a twenty-two-year-old friend of his son, he didn’t know, but she had just shared something so intimate with him that he felt it was only fair.

“Well, it’s her loss.” The usual sensuality in her tone is back, her lips curling into a smile around her beer bottle. “You’re still young enough and fit, I’m sure you’ll find a pretty woman to meet your every need.” The words made his cock twitch, a chuckle leaving his lips to ease the sexual tension in the air.

“Well thank you. What about you? I see how my son and the other boys eye you.” And himself, but he’d leave that out. “They said your off limits and not the relationship type.” Andy didn’t know if it was appropriate to mention the conversation he had with Rashad and Collin the other day, but it seemed from y/n’s smile she was well aware of how they viewed her.

“Oh, I’ve had my fair share of boys. Watching them fall one by one.” She teased, running a hand through her hair. “I’m kinda like a sweet serial killer on the warpath, I like to have boys wrapped around my finger, but I am fully in control of who gets to move past a few stolen kisses. And frankly, there aren’t many that do” Her tone is honest, Andy licking his lips. I bet a man like me could change that. Before Andy can open his mouth to respond the front door opens, Jacob, Collin, and Rashad bounding in.

“The party’s here!” Rashad cried out, clearly tipsy. The boys stopped in the living room when they saw y/n and Andy, Collin eyeing the takeout on the table.

“Dude can I have some? I’m starving.” Collin announced before picking up y/n’s takeout box, plowing into it with the fork.

“Help yourself, I was actually going to get to bed. Gotta get up early for the internship again.” Y/N slinked seductively off the couch, her eyes meeting Andy’s. “Goodnight, Andy. Thanks for the talk.” He manages to give her a quick goodnight before she’s walking up the stairs, tits bouncing with each step.

Was he slowly being wrapped around her finger like the other boys she mentioned? He didn’t think so, but what he did know is he had yet another outfit of hers to picture her in when he jerked off tonight.

Tagging those who may be interested. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list: @midnightf @my-divine-death @saamwilsonn @fierylibraa @fuckandfluff​ @rattlemyb0nes​ @rootcrop @goldenboysteve​  @turtoix​  @jeremyrennermakesmesmile​  @ccmarvelxx

[rimaiahwrites]

Untitled—

Chapter six

Erik slowly pulled his arm from underneath Israel's head without waking her then pulled the covers up to her face, since he had it freezing in his loft.

He swung his Heavy leg over the edge of his bed and stepped on his hard wood stairs that laid up to his bed slowly so it wouldn't creek or crack. He slipped away from the comfort of his bed and made it out of his room without a sound. Even though the sounds of his bare feet slapping against the floor in the hallway was still heard, Israel didn't make a move.

He flicked the lights on in the kitchen, and snatched the refrigerator door open. He mostly had vegetables, fruit and water.  It had been like that since He had started a healthy life style after he came back from the navy.

He grabbed his glass bottle of water and chugged it down. That early morning thrust was real. After he was done he refilled the bottle of water before putting it back in the fridge for his afternoon workout.

Erik went back into the living room and pulled his rug back to reveal his hardwood floors. He pulled one of the wooden boards up and reach up inside to grab his father's old leather Journal. It was slightly beaten up from the many years of his father using it but none the less it was still very beautiful.

his balcony doors blow open from the Wind and he pulled the cream white Curtains back and stepped out. The air was cool but not to cold.

It felt good against his skin. Over the few markings that he had on his  torso- about 400 plus, all in rows around his torso. Some were still healing and sensitive.

Erik was actually still surprised that Israel's nosey ass hadn't spotted them on him yet. He knew that once she had, she will ask him a Thousand and one questions about them. And Erik wasn't really ready for that since he knew he couldn't tell her the real reason he marked himself, at least not yet.

He sat in the big chair that he had hanging to the top of his roof. It swayed from side to side when it was windy or when ever Erik sown it himself. It was soothing though. His balcony was one of the places he liked to meditate and clear his mind. He could look down below, and see businessmen in suits and looking for a taxi, and kids heading off to school with big backpack bouncing against them from running to the bus stop. It was regular city life for him.

He loved the city but hated the memories it came with. He had lost to much in it. First his mother then his father, and so many of his childhood friends had lost their lives to the city they called home. So many time had the city almost taken his life as well, from being beaten on the street by police officers, or being held at gun point at 15, by a local drug dealer that Erik had considered one of his niggas.

The city had done him so wrong but yet here he was, still living in Oakland. Just in a better spot then the apartment that he had spent ten years of his life in.

Erik sighed and sat back down and open his father book. He liked to reread it to keep him motivated and focused on his Destiny. The foreign words of his father language, that he had learned to read over the years, popped out against the old- now brownish- paper. Erik flipped to the page titled, the prince is here.

My son, my prince, my happiness have finally arrived. More Beautiful then I could ever imagine, dark brown eyes like his mother and a head full of thick black kinky hair like me.

The happiness that spread through my body the moment my eyes laid on him I knew I was in love. This was a different type of love, not like the kind of love you have for your mother or your wife it was a kind of love that only a mother or father could have for their child-

Erik read with tears beaming his eyes. Not letting them fall once. Erik slammed the book shut clenching it in his hands, as he leaned forward staring at it. It didn't make him sad, it made his angry. He was so angry at his father and it confused him so deeply since he knew his father had no control over what happened to him.

Maybe it wasn't anger towards his father, but pain that he turned into anger like he always did. And he was tired of it, the anger that had been building up inside him ever since he found his father dead, on his Apartment floor with panther Panther  claw marks in his chest, that came from the man his father called brother.

That's where his real anger was towards, his family. Erik couldn't even call it anger, it was rage. He knew that once he met his uncle all hell was going to break loss. All the pain and rage he had inside of him was going to be released. As soon as he got to wrap his hands around T'chaka fat ass neck, and hear that satisfying crunk that came after he squeeze with all his might. And then his cousin t'challa, was next because he knew that once he killed T'chaka his son was going to go after him. But he was going to prepared.

Israel rolled over on the bed and look over the loft bed. Erik wasn't in the living room or kitchen. She had thought that maybe he had left, until she saw the balcony curtains blow up from the door being open. She smiled slightly and peeled the thick blankets back and headed down the stairs. The little cracking sounds the wooden stairs made as she tip-toed down  sparked Erik's interest, he closed the opened book again, and sat it behind the pillow he had on his swinging chair.

He leaned back into the door frame and spotted Israel on the stairs with a grin on her face. "Hi." She whispered softly so her voice didn't sound raspy from not talking for hours at a time.

"You always wake up in a good mood?" He asked getting up from the balcony ground and walking up to her. She chuckled and shrugged. "When I get a good night of sleep, yeah." She said looking down at him into his eyes, that were still slightly red from earlier. Since she was about three stairs above him, She placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned towards him. "Um...Thank you for last night, I had fun. It was the first time in a long time that I have felt like someone actually wanted to hang and spend time with me..." she admitted, looking down at his chest as she fiddled with his shirt. He rested his hands on her waist and squeezed lightly. "You don't have to thank me princess, I enjoy hanging wit' you." He spoke softly, brushing her face with his knuckles. Slightly pushing her face to the side.

Her gut felt bubbly with happiness, and her cheeks were starting to hurt with how hard she was smiling. And Erik only made it harder for her to stop from the way he was looking at her.

That look he gave her. The one were he would title his head like a puppy and lick his lips while keeping Direct eye contact.

The thigh clenching look if you will.

"You hungry?" He asked, picking her up and swinging her off the stairs to the bottom. "No not really, I don't like to eat breakfast that much because I'm never that hungry." She said sitting at the kitchen counter. His eyes raised and he turned to her.

"You gotta eat breakfast Israel, that's the most important meal of the day." She rolled her eyes because she had heard it so many time before from her mother. "I know I just don't like breakfast-"

"I'm making you breakfast, and you gon' eat it." Erik said turning around to the refrigerator to grab the stuff he needed.

And A word wasn't said as Erik handed Israel the plate of two prices of Turkey bacon one pancake, and a small glass of a mango kiwi and strawberry smoothie that he sweetened with orange juice.

He tried not to give her much but she still felt like it was to much food for right now. It he gave it to her at like 12 am in the afternoon she would most likely still be hungry afterwards.

She stared at the plate and then back at Erik, a pout on her lips. He nodded his head, as if telling her to go ahead and start eating. She sighed and grabbed a fork and began to eat, Erik as well. But his plate was stuffed. Three pancakes, three prices of bacon, and the rest of the plate was taken up by the four scrambled eggs. He was a big boy and needed all the food he could get.

"Is it good?" He asked, month full of food.

"Yeah, it's good even though your Force feeding me it." She chuckled taking another small bite. Erik gave her a close month smile, chewing his bacon aggressively.

"You'll get used to it, eventually your body will want to eat in the morning, anyway your parents call you yet?" She shook her head, taking a sip of her smoothie. "No, I don't know what's going on but hopefully my mother calls soon to fill me in and let me know they made it there safe." She said her thoughts wondering off a bit.

After they were done eating Erik decided he wanted to workout at his favorite boxing gym. So they both got dressed quickly, Israel just put on a white oversized t-shirt and a pair of gray leggings and her white nike sneakers, while Erik wore black baseball shorts a dark gray workout shirt and black running shoes.

Once Erik grabbed his bag they were at the door and headed to the gym.

Erik turned into the parking lot Of his boxing gym named the home of Apollo Creed. Israel raised her eyebrows but she went with it. Erik opened her door while he throwing his gym bag over his shoulder. "A boxing gym?" She questioned following him inside the cold building. There was about ten different sweating men hitting at punching bags or at their couch Gloved hands.

"Yes, that's what the sign says right?" He chuckled dropping his bag on the floor. She rolled her eyes at his slick reply and plopped Down on the bench near his gym bag, "you didn't tell me it was a boxing gym but k, smart ass." She mumbled, watching him watch her while he put on the thin black gloves that fighters put on before the actual boxing gloves. He was clearly not new at this because he wasn't paying much attention to his movements, he was staring at Israel. Something she had noticed he tends to do a lot. But they were even because she caught herself staring at him today more times then she'll like to amid.

"Come on," he smiled pulling her across the gym catching some of the busy men eyes, there was a couple of "damn Erik who dis?" And "this yo new girl?" Erik only grinned, winking at them. While Israel tried to hide herself behind him. Erik noticed and chuckled softly before hugging her to his side.

"You bout to get a couple of boxing lessons for free, by thee Erik Stevens." He sang playfully making her crack a smile. He turned around to look in the big box of gloves and found some pink ones from the little 15 year old girl that used to box here. They looked like they could fit. "Come here, gimme your hand." She slide both her hands in the glove and smiled at how cute they looked on her. "Tiny ass hands," Erik mumbled jokily making her roll her eyes and giggle. "Big ass hands...hulk smash face ass 'I'm Wreck-It' neck ass-" She shot back. he laughed loudly throwing his head back before telling her to "shut the hell up before I knock you out." She just rolled her eyes.

" Ok we're gonna start with a simple, 1,2." He explained taking jabs at the air, making his Biceps and man Titties bounce, In the form fitted workout shirt he changed into in the car. She copied the simple move but aiming at his hands this time. "Ok we gonna do that same move but with a duck added to it," he beamed, excited that she was catching on so soon. "Hit, hit, duck." She moved fast dodging his hand. "This is kinda fun but-" Israel began but was cut short by a high pitched voice and a light skin girl with long loss curls came walking to Erik.

"Erik?! Is that you?!? I haven't seen you in so long," she was so tall that she was almost Erik's height. Israel felt like a child standing next to them.

"This is my homegirl from back in the day, Erie." Israel smiled and waved shyly. "Aw is this your little sister?" Erie smiled sarcastically bending down a bit sticking her hand out for Israel to shake, Israel's smile dropped and things got awkward quickly when Israel didn't grab her hand and only stared at the girl.

"Um Nah this is a good friend of mine, but uh it was nice seeing you Erie." Erik chuckled while dismissing the girl trying to hold in his laughter.

"Oh...well I'll see you later I guess, you should Dm some Time so we can really catch up without..." She tailed off glancing at Israel before smirking at Erik and walking off, making sure to make her ass bounce with every step she took. Israel tore her eyes from her and rolled them. While Erik was busy starring at her ass Israel began to take her gloves off, using her teeth to undo the Velcro on her gloves. The tearing sound brought Erik's attention back to Israel. "What are you doing we still-"

"I'm not really feeling it anymore plus my arms are already getting tired." She huffed swinging her arms back and fourth trying to shake the 'soreness' out of them. Erik mumbled a "yeah already." knowing why she wasn't really feeling it anymore, he left her to sit on the ground while he went and found his trainer, RJ. Erik had been working with Him since he was 15, RJ was one of the only people that Erik felt like care for him when he was Foster care. RJ had found Erik fighting a boy a little older then him outside of a gas station and praised him for how good of a fight was and encouraged him to get into. Erik was definitely hesitant about it at first but RJ eventually convince Erik to do it especially since he was going to be training him for free. It was a way for Erik to blow off some steam with all the Pent up anger he had for the world, RJ was just happy to keep him off the streets. He knew the kid was A genius, he was too smart to end up in jail or dead.

-

It had been two hours since Erik had been training and two hours since Israel been sitting on the hard floor but she barely noticed the numbness in her butt and legs because she was to busy drooling over Erik's delicious body, it was shiny in sweat and his movements were Swift and fast. The faster he hit the punching bag the more his muscles jumped and bounced, Israel don't know how many she licked her lips or clinched her thighs together but she knew her lips were going to be raw and she would have to take a shower as soon as she got home, she didn't care though it was Worth it. She'll sit here all day and night if that meant she could watch him. She wasn't the only one enjoying this whole situation so was Erik. he knew she was watching his every move, she tried to act like she wasn't but she made it very obvious that she was checking him out, but he liked the attention. He liked how easily he can drawl women's attention without even trying. He had her eyes glued to him, not only hers but Erie's too. He caught her staring at him multiple times but instead of scaring away whenever he caught her she locked eyes with him, giving him very seductive look. Erik only chuckled at her Poor attempt and backed over to Israel to grab his ice cold water bottle. Her breath hitched as he reached over her, his hot body almost pressing against her. The scent of his sweat and actual body odor mix with his deodorant made her mouth water. She wanted so badly to reach up and touch his torso but held herself back, sparing herself the embarrassment of rejection. "Are you done?" "Yeah Come on someone wants to meet you before we leave," he said grabbing her hand to help her off the ground. The feeling in her legs started to come back finally as she made her way over to the punching bag. "Israel this my nigga RJ, we go way back." RJ smile brightly at the girl and extended his hand out to her. "Nice to meet you." She beamed at the handsome older man, holding his hand longer then she intended to. RJ didn't mind at all though. They both broke apart when Erik cleared his throat real obnoxiously eyeing the both of them like they stole something from him. "Nigga Y'all tryin' fuck later or what? The fuck." Erik hissed bluntly more so towards RJ, he was way to old to be looking at Israel any type way. He was in his early 40s and Israel was in her late teens, that shit didn't really sit right with Erik. Israel became tense and RJ just dismissed Erik's out burst rolling his eyes and punching him In the arm with the foam glove.

"Shut yo dumb ass up Erik, anyway it I was just trying to see what your name was and shit for later..." Erik's face scrunch up in discussed as he pulled Israel behind his back. "Nigga you old as dirt still trying to flirt with young girls....grow up." Erik chuckled grabbing his bag and Israel's hand pulling her behind him. "Ok and? I'm aging like fine wine, ain't that right baby girl?" He raised a eyebrow at Israel making her turn her face away to hide her smile from the both of them knowing that they'll probably just clown her. "More like milk, anyway I'll see yo old ass later." Erik dabbed him up and left making sure Israel was right behind him. He opened the door for her and she climbed in, putting her Seatbelt on without him having to tell her too this time. Erik got in next making the car bounce a little from how big he was. "Don't pay that old ass nigga no attention, he do that to all the girls that come in to the gym. He swear he's charming-"

"Welllllll......" Israel tailed off

"Woooooow....." was all Erik said before slumping down into his seat. "He fine." Israel laughed widely shrugged her shoulders. "Hell Nah He could be your dad or some shit he's like that old ass uncle at the cookout that get drunk before the party even start." Israel giggled wildly because she does really have a uncle that showed up to the family events already drunk. After their laughter died down things got quite. Like it always seemed to happen when they were by their selves. It wasn't necessarily a awkward Silent just a little uncomfortable, the type when you don't know what Else to say to keep the conversation going but Israel still enjoyed his company.

It was nice finally being around a man, it felt familiar to her. She was always only around boys and men growing up most of the time since she had no younger or older sister in the house, plus the girls that she did have In her family like her aunts and older female cousins were rude and bitchy for no reason so she stuck with just hanging around the boys. it was what she was used to and most comfortable with.

Erik's deep voice shook her out of her train of thought and now her eyes were staring into his trying to focus on what he was talking about. "Huh?" She said trying to process what he said. "I'm gonna drop you off at home."

She pouted and huffed out her breath before mumbling "I don't want to go home, why can't I just stay with you?" Erik chuckled dryly. "Because I got other shit to do Israel." The sternness in his voice jumped out and Israel was just about to let her bratty personality show but quickly caught herself.

She was really quite the rest of the ride this time, extremely quite. Erik only chuckled at her for being mad that she was going home instead of with him, but he didn't give a fuck. He had other shit to do like he said.

"So you not gon' talk?" She shrugged before turning on the radio. Erik turned it off. "Don't touch my radio, answer my question."

"What?" She asked as if she didn't hear him the first time round. "You wanna stay with me?" She nodded with puppy dog eyes. He almost melted. Almost.

"Mm." He hummed pulling up to her house. She pouted And huffed, annoyed with him playing with her.  "Whatever." She snapped before grabbing her phone out of his lap and slamming his car door shut. She heard Erik's annoying laugh loud and clear as she stomped her way up the steps to her door. Erik's slowly pulled away making sure she got in safely and when she did he speed away.

Soon as he stopped at a red light he grabbed his phone and went to his new contact: Israel (with the pleading face emoji) since it described her best. His fingers work at the speed of light as he tried to send the text before the lights turn green.

Good night, princess. Imma see you soon so you don't gotta pout and shit alright? He sent and almost instantly she read it. The gray dots appeared and vanished then reappeared and then her rely popped on his screen. Ok :) it was simple but it made him smile.

He almost sent her a text back but decided to just leave it at that. She was happy and fine now so there was no need to reply back.

_________

Sorry about the weird spacing in some areas Tumblr be weird sometimes with that. 

[justthehiddleswrites]

Just Grab My Ass | Magnus Martinsson x Female Reader | March Magnus #1

 A/N: So the eyeliner thing is totally from my Magnus anon as I am sure other bits and pieces.  So you know who you are, huge credit to you.  Love you, Mags!

Request: by @catsladen​  

Undercover Magnus with another detective he has a crush on. They’re somewhere where they have to dance (club maybe) and his partner is trying to get him to relax so he doesn’t blow their cover. Some exchange like: “Magnus, I swear to God, PUT YOUR HANDS ON MY ASS!” Magnus sputters, awkwardly moving his hands until she gets frustrated with his hesitance and grabs his hands, planting them firmly on her ass and she grinds up on him and he has to keep from short-circuiting. I love awkward golden noodle boy Magnus 😂

Pairing: Magnus Martinsson x Female Reader

Summary: Magnus is consummate professional until a case requires you and him to go to a club.  And he has failed to mention his enormous crush on you. Well complicates things.

Warnings: implied smut, mentions of drugs, law enforcement.

Taglists are open! Let me know if you want to be added!  Thank you for reading!

--

“Kurt, please, send someone else on this job.” Magnus begged. His pale skin covered with a thin layer of sweat. “I’ll do all your paperwork for a month. Answer the phone without complaining. Just please send someone else.”

Kurt stared at Magnus with a furrowed brow. “I thought you would love this assignment. A young guy like you at a club with…” Kurt’s eyes darted over towards where you were standing, laughing at something Svedberg said. “Does she know?”

Magnus blushed a deep shade of pink. “No, and if you tell her, Kurt—”

Wallander held up his hands. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Magnus’s shoulders relaxed and sighed deeply. “Great, so I will tell her that you are sending—”

“Oh you are still going on this assignment.”

“But—”

“You are the senior officer on this case and your schoolboy crush on your partner is not a good enough reason to pull you off of it.” Kurt slapped Magnus’s shoulder hard. “I suggest you pull yourself together and if that doesn’t work, try a cold shower.”

Magnus scowled at Kurt. “Not helpful.”

—

You tugged at your skirt and top one more time before slamming your locker shut and heading out to meet Magnus to go to the club where the buy was going to happen.

“Are you ready to go?” you asked, leaning against the doorway to the men’s locker room.

“I’m not coming out!” Magnus yelled. “I look ridiculous.”

“I’m sure you look fine. If it makes you feel better, I look ridiculous as well.”

You overheard Magnus slam his locker shut, and his shoes dragging on the floor. He stepped out and the first word that came to your mind was not “ridiculous”.

Magnus kept fidgeting with his shirt, the four buttons at the top undone, revealing a swath of skin and chest hair. You licked your lips as your eyes lingered.

“Say something, please.” Magnus coaxed.

You blinked back to whatever place you were and stared at him. “I think you look nice.” Drop dead gorgeous was more like it. Stunningly handsome. A god among men. You could go on but Magnus was still staring at you.

“Just nice?” His stomach dropped. He put a lot of effort into this ridiculous getup hoping to impress you. His efforts were naught.

You shoved his shoulder. “Better than nice, Magnus. Really nice.” you giggled, leaning against him. “Are you wearing eyeliner?”

“I’m not going.” He turned away.

You grabbed his arm. “Come on, Magnus. Do you really want to explain to Kurt that we didn’t arrest this scumbag because you were self-conscious about eyeliner?” You smirked at him. “Besides, it really brings out the blue in your eyes.”

His face lit up. “Really?”

“Yes! Now let’s get going.” You shoved him towards the door.

—

The music was some horrid EDM nightmare that would have your ears ringing for weeks. The lights flashed too bright and the air smelled of smoke that was not entirely cigarettes. You were too old for this shit.

“I think we need to dance.” You leaned in close to Magnus’s ear.

You couldn’t tell, but he blushed as your lips brushed against his ear.

“That is not necessary. We can see him just fine from here.” He uncrossed his arms to point at the sliver of their suspect’s right arm.

“Oh yeah, that right elbow is very incriminating.” You pulled him away from the wall where he had planted himself after grabbing a beer from the bar. “Come on, we have to actually see him hand off the parcel.”

With much reluctance, you got Magnus onto the floor. You wrapped your arms around his neck, while he flailed his arms in the air for five or ten seconds before hanging at his sides. Magnus didn’t know what to do. He knew what he wanted to do, but that would be entirely unprofessional and most likely earn him a slap across the face.

“Magnus!” you hissed. “Do something with your arms!”

He furrowed his brow at you. “Like what?”

“Something! We are supposed to look like a couple.” You swayed your hips to the music.

Magnus grows more and more flustered. First, he reached for your shoulders and then your hips before dropping them to his sides again.

“Magnus, I SWEAR TO GOD, put your hands on your ass or I am kneeing you in the groin!” you hissed at him through gritted teeth while grabbing his hands and placing them squarely on each ass cheek.

Magnus immediately stiffened when you did so. “I… I…” he stuttered.

You pressed against Magnus. “Magnus, you are the worst liar in the world. I know you have a crush on me.” Your fingers reached up to tangle in his blond curls. “I feel the same, so why don’t we take advantage of this assignment,” You slipped your hands down his torso, you can tell he is fit underneath those baggy clothes. “and feel each other out?”

You spun in place and ground against his crotch. Magnus’s hands gripped your hips and pulled you tighter against him. “I like how you feel against me.” Magnus whispered in your ear.

His erection was evident against your backside. “I can tell. Later.” You pointed at the suspect, who was talking to another man and handing him a large envelope.

The two of you sprung into action, Magnus drawing his gun and you boxing the two men.

“Ystad Police!” you yelled as the music cut off and the house lights came on.

Your suspect’s face dropped. “It’s not what it looks like!”

Magnus snatched the envelope and dumped it out on the nearby table. Several spindles of a white crystalline substance. “Really because it looks like you are giving this man a bunch of drugs.” The other man moved to run, but you stopped him. “Packaged for sale.”

You handcuffed the two men and led them outside where a patrol car waited outside to take them to the station. Magnus put his arms around your bare shoulders, shielding them from the cool night air.

“Good job.” he commented.

“You too. I imagine there will be quite a bit of paperwork.”

Magnus groaned. “Yes.”

“And the processing…” You turned around to face them. “I imagine they will need to be interviewed.” Your lips curled into a smile as you watched Magnus’s face fall.

“Yeah…”

You trailed your fingers up and down the exposed skin of his chest. “I imagine that if we got delayed in traffic, Kurt would have to get started.”

“Yeah… wait what?” He stared down at you.

“I’m saying let’s get in the car and get lost for a while. Finish what we started on that dance floor. Unless, of course…”

“No!” Magnus ran his hands through his hair. “I agree, I’ll… get… get… the car.” He held his hands. “Wait right there.”

You giggled as you watched run off to where he parked the car, running into two different people on the way. You hoped he didn’t crash the car before getting back to your apartment.

[whimsicallyreading]

Eight Second Ride

Okay, so I did a thing. This is for @charincharge​ who made me think this was a good idea and @wordsxstars​ who convinced me to post it anyways when I reconsidered. XD I hope y’all enjoy. 

CW- An inaccurate portrayal of modern cowboys. They ain’t shit y'all. XD 

The smell of hay and top soil fills the arena and Aelin can feel the anticipation of the crowd rushing through her.

So far, Bulls Night Out had been more epic than she was expecting. When Aedion had showed up at her apartment and presented her with the tickets, she wasn’t impressed. A night in a building filled with dirt, watching men attempt questionable things with animals wasn’t exactly her idea of fun.

Yet, with every near-fatal miss and the difference between victory and failure lying in the milliseconds between competitors- Aelin found she was quickly becoming invested in the bizarre sport.

Lorcan Salvaterre was the name highlighted at the top of the leader board with an impressive nine-point-one second ride. A lot of the men, she noticed, didn’t even make the minimum eight seconds before flying off their bull.

Aelin had watched in morbid fascination as a rider named Vaughn was tossed and narrowly escaped death. A hoof missing his head by a hair. His buddies had helped pull him back over the fence just as a gate at the far end of the arena opened. She watched as two men on horses roped the angry steer and guided it back towards the stalls.

When Vaughn saw the timer which now reads N/A he took off his hat and threw it on the ground, yanking on the ends of his dark hair. A couple of hands reached around to pat his shoulder consolingly.

Aelin’s attention was pulled away as Aedion squeezed his massive thighs through the tiny, crowded stadium seating. A cherry frosty in one hand and the funnel cake she requested in the other.

He set the dessert of fried batter and powdered sugar in her lap, and her heart nearly stopped in her chest. Whether it was from the sight of something so greasy, or the pure joy of the carnival snack she didn’t know.

“It’s about time,” she goads Aedion through a mouthful of dough. The sugar already coating her fingers and a layer of it dirtying her jeans. It was a mess, but so good.

Aedion’s eyes narrow at her as he sips his frosty, “It’s a mad house down there. All of the lines are like a mile long and I’m pretty sure a clown tried to grab my ass.” He snags a bite of her funnel cake and shoves it in his mouth. “I hope your snack was worth it.”

“Keeping me happy is worth it,” she smacks his wrist when his fingers try to swipe another bite.

The crowd roars and Aelin looks back down to see a rider running back towards the fence, a glinting smile on his face. On the big screen, they replay his ride and clock him at nine-seconds even, placing him in second place.

Aedion whistles appreciatively at the footage and Aelin claps when a Fenrys Moonbeam is placed just below Lorcan on the leader board.

“Damn, he’s attractive.” Aedion comments, and Aelin nods enthusiastically.

“I’m not going to lie. I was skeptical about this-“ they watch as another rider is helped onto a bull and they await the go, “but this is way more fun then I thought it was going to be.”

“It helps that all of these people are fine,” he laughs. Aedion pulls out his phone, and videos the next ride. It only lasts five seconds, but makes an excellent boomerang that he swiftly posts to his story. Followed by a selfie of them and their snacks.

Lysandra would be so mad she bailed.

“Shit,” Aedion swears as he drops his frosty and the red ice bursts across the front on his shirt. “Shit. I forgot napkins.”

“I’ll go get some,” Aelin assures, but as she battles her way through the crowd and bumps various limbs against other peoples body parts, she regrets her chivalry.

It takes five minutes alone just to get to the bottom of the stairs. Pulling herself free from the throngs of people, Aelin leans against the bars looking down, directly into the arena. She needed a moment of fresh air, not surrounded by dozens of sweaty people. Aedion could wait an extra damn minute.

But, as she peels her eyes open, they nearly bug out of her head. Directly below her she can see right into the shoot, and the bull rider who was being set up for his next ride.

His eyes are the same pine green as the forests of her homeland, and she can see the white hair coiled into a bun right before his buddy slaps a hat on his head.

He was beautiful. A work of masculine art. Muscles for days and Aelin swore she could gut glass against his cheekbones. Aedion’s napkins are long forgotten as she stares at the man situating himself onto the fidgeting bull.

Rowan Whitethorn- the name is plastered on the big screen alongside his previous states and homeland. He’s from Wendlyn, her mother’s country of origin.

When Aelin looks back down, she startled. His face is locked on hers, green eyes piercing her skin with its inquisitiveness. He’s close enough she can see his pail eyelashes droop, apparently satisfied by what he sees. Aelin forces her expression to stay neutral as his yes flitter back up her face to meet her own gaze.

Their eyes lock, neither of them blink. Aelin can feel the temperature of the building rise by several degrees and she bites her lip.

A man slaps Rowan’s shoulder, telling him the count down has started. He barely pays the person any mind though as the seconds before his ride dwindle down. Just before the horn blows, he winks at her.

Aelin’s whole face burns as the gate is released and Rowan is out of the shoot like a rocket. Her heart is thumping in her chest like a base drum and she’s about ready to lay on the floor and die.

That man. She caught that beautiful man’s attention and got into a veritable starting contest with him like a five year-old. Her horror is only exacerbated when she realizes her hands are still coated in powdered sugar and it was probably on her face as well.

So much for her image as smoldering, goddess.

A roar from the crowd rises like never before. The men above the shoots near her have their hats off and are cheering at the top of their lungs. People are stomping, clapping. Something big just happened.

A replay of Rowan’d ride is playing across several different screens. Below his name, is his time.

Twelve seconds.

Suddenly, a pair of calloused hands are gripping the rails near her face, and a heavily muscled body is pulling itself up and over the edge.

Aelin staggers back as Rowan drops onto the floor in front of her. His eyes are lit with adrenalin and sweat beads his brow, but despite the whirlwind he’d just gone through he looked strangely serene.

He marches in front of her grabs a paper from inside his pocket. It’s a crumpled paper with a bold number on one side and on the back is his name and information.

Information like his phone number.

Her mouth goes dry as he presses it into her hand. Rowan gives her a smile that sends a tingle down her spine and makes her toes curl in her shoes.

“You are good luck, doll. You should give me a call sometime.”

Aelin’s bravado catches up with her and she places a hand on her hip, meeting his gaze full on. “If I’m such good luck then you would take me out for a drink. Tonight.”

Pulling the hat from his head, Rowan combs a hand through the loose strands of silver hair cascading around his face. “I think I can manage that.”

“I’ll be in row ten, seat seven. When you are done.” She pushes the piece of paper back at hum and nods to where Aedion is sitting. He’s be pissed when he realized she would be ditching him.

“I’ll see you in about an hour,” his eyes rake over her one more time before walking away to join his jovial friends.

They clap his shoulders, he’s so tall some of them have to jump to rustle the top of his head. All of them enthused over his almost assured win, before they sweep him away and he disappears into the crowd, he looks back at her one more time.

An hour, she mouthes to him.

A half-grin graces his face and he tilts his chin as Aelin makes her way back to Aedion.

Yeah, the rodeo was definitely more exciting then she was expecting.

[simeonsclavicle]

House Spouse

Inspired by @obeythebutler and her asks

GN!Reader, Belphegor, Satan, Simeon. Just a lil bit of wholesome and crack. No editing, I die like Lilith uwu'

Exhaustion was an understatement as you trudged up the driveway of your home. Work had been a mess and everything seemed to go wrong no matter how big or small the task. And then your coworker ruined your shirt and you sighed for what seemed like the ten thousandth time. You fumbled for your keys in your pocket to not find them where they usually were. Oh you were going to LOSE it.

The front door opened, Belphegor leaning against it with a raised eyebrow. You looked him up and down, and somehow the tension in your shoulders was absolutely gone! Lovely. The demon stepped back, letting you into the house. The door clicked behind you and you locked it up once more. But now that Belphegor was standing fully in front of you, no longer hidden partially by the door, your lips pulled into a curious smile.

“Nice outfit, brings out your eyes.” Indeed the chromatic black and white maid outfit did bring out the colour of you had affectionately dubbed his ‘bisexual eyes’. Belphegor huffed, rolling his eyes halfheartedly. You stepped forward, tugging on the little bow at the top of the dress, the action pulling the sleepy demon closer to you. He huffed slightly, but was quickly silenced with a hug, burying his face into the crook of your neck so fast it almost gave you whiplash.

He yelped when he felt your hand on his ass under the dress, giving him a nice squeeze. You snickered as you let go of him, taking off further into the house before he could get back at you. “You’re so lucky I’m too tired from cleaning..” Belphegor groaned as he watched you run towards the kitchen. Later, he’d get back at you later. For now.. A nap on the couch in the living room almost sounded heavenly.

You were next met with Satan, the demon manning several pots and pans as he made dinner. “You’re home later than usual.” He commented without looking at the doorway, too busy chopping one thing or sauteing another. He was wearing that silly apron you had gotten him when you first started living together, green and printed with cute cartoon cats. But from your limited view he looked absolutely nude underneath.

“I’m wearing boxers, the idea of oil hitting my dick is not appealing.” Satan looked up as if he could sense your next question. Still you felt your cheeks heat up, first Belphegor in his maid dress, and now Satan almost naked in nothing but an apron and boxers? Phew, definitely warm. Still you stepped into the kitchen, joining his side.

He pulled away from what he was doing to kiss your cheek, soft and gentle it made you smile. What had you done to deserve this behaviour? Was it the long day? You weren’t sure, but Satan teasingly bumped you with his hip, mischievous glint in his pretty eyes. “Looks good.” Your voice was low, and at first Satan thought you were talking about the food. Of course until he felt you smack his ass.

“Oh you little-” Satan laughed but before he could return the favour you were out the side door to the garden, fleeing smile on your face. He shook his head, blond locks messy as ever. He returned to what he was doing. And you, feeling much better than you had upon getting home, slowed your roll in the garden. Looking at all the prim and proper bushes of various flowers and herbs, magical and non-magical.

“You’re home! Wonderful!” Before you could react Simeon was in front of you, hands in his, pressed against his warm chest. It always freaked you out that angels didn’t have beating hearts, but with how often Simeon did this, it was starting to register as normal. His hands were positively covered in black ink smudges, and he was wearing those cute little reading glasses-

“How was your day?” He positively beamed, cerulean eyes eagerly awaiting your usual work stories, no matter how awful or good or mundane. He just loved to hear you talk. His expression stayed warm as he listened, nodding his head along, offering comments here and there. He was a good listener, that was for sure.

“Sounds awful, but tomorrow will be a new day. So let us make the rest of this day wonderful, yes?” Simeon wasted no time pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. You couldn’t help but giggle at his behaviour, it would never grow old. You were considering giving him the same treatment as the others, but with the way he was currently looking at you, so in love. You couldn’t. You just gave him a little smooch back.

“Dinner!” Satan called into the yard, and Simeon hesitantly let your hands go. Usually he liked to chat more, but given you were home several hours later than usual, he’d just have to catch up later. You still weren’t sure what you did to deserve not one but three very handsome and very amazing men. But you did, and they were better house spouses than any human you could have ended up with.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Of Monsters and Men

Chapter 6- Betrayer Moon

Summary: Temeria holds a beast that has been said to have slaughtered many. With the sweet sound of coins offered you’re ready for another wild hunt.

Warnings: lil smut we starting out with, gore and blood as per usual, fluff 

Masterlist

Outside the winds are cold and snowy as the night cascades its great darkness over the land of the Continent. But none of that holds any kind of significance as you lay in the warm bed of a village tavern, Geralt's muscular body pressing flush against your heated skin. You hold tightly onto the tousled bed sheets as he thrusts into you over and over again, nothing but the sweet sounds of his grunts and your pleasant moaning filling the darkly lit room but for a simple fire in the hearth.

He deliciously rocks you into the mattress as he gently kisses your sweaty temple, sending bolts of electricity coursing throughout your entire being as you await your building climax. With each new thrust of Geralt's manhood into your entrance, you try and hold back a scream but to no avail. He quickly silences you with a heated kiss, both of your tongues dancing in the dark with one another as he pushes your legs apart even more, his large body taking you all in.

He's a lot to handle but you can take it, no matter what he throws at you. Soon he's a moaning mess as he dumps his load into your clenching walls, hitting your own high just the same, you suddenly claw at his back as he pumps himself into you a couple more times before slowly leaning up to take a good look at your blissfully beautiful face. He gently pulls out of you, falling onto the bed at your side as the both of lay in silence, the only viable sounds coming from your heavy breaths and the crackling of the fireplace.

"So, I heard something interesting today." You begin, turning on your side to lean yourself into his chest as he stares at the ceiling, a satisfied smirk gracing his handsome features.

"Do tell." He quietly mumbles.

"I was conversing with some of the whores by the market today, asking about what interesting creatures have met their eyes and whatnot. When wouldn't you know it, another Witcher had come through this very village." He raises an eyebrow, curiosity catching his interest quick, "Said he fled Temeria with some miners coin when his ass was supposed to be killing their monster. I think foul play." You inquire, absentmindedly running your fingers over his battle scars, Geralt's intrigued by your words but is honestly enjoying himself too much to care about anything else at the moment.

Sighing in deep content he shifts his golden gaze onto you, "Tonight I will blissfully ignore my problems." He muses, closing his eyes as you continue to lightly trail your fingers against his skin, "Just uh...keeping doing that." A drunken smile gracing his sweaty face, as you break out into a grin while your eyes fully take in his glistening muscular form that's laying butt-ass naked right next to you. Oh, how did you get so lucky with a man like him?

The rest of the night is spent inside one another here and there, until you both fall asleep in an exhausted heap of tangled limbs and messy blankets. The next morning you two get dressed and head for Temeria, Geralt wisely leaving Roach with the stable boy until you both come back to retrieve her, whenever that may be.

The hike to Temeria went rather smoothly, no one to bother you and the cold of the winter weather doing nothing to freeze you, considering you're practically immune to feeling cold, another wondrous perk of being half vampire.

As you walk out of the shadowy woodland you look up to see a large abandoned castle stout upon the top of a rocky hill, thick forest surrounding it. Looking ahead you notice as the trail suddenly dives into the earth, lamps held up by steel poles guiding the way in, but before this you stop to read over a poster pinned to a wooden pole.

"Temeria, realm of monsters and cowardly kings." You turn to Geralt with an amused smirk upon your face, "Well it's nice to know they don't hold anything back." You laugh before turning to walk down the descending trail, Geralt smiling as he watches you go.

Your time in the mines was a quick one, the miners and the kings men on the verge of a tiny battle that was stopped by Geralt's calm inquisition. The high guard or whoever the fuck, lead you and your Witcher out of the mines and into the shadowy snow covered woods, you're guessing with interior motives but nonetheless you follow.

As you're walking next to Geralt, with the kingsmen on their steeds to either side of you; all of a sudden you catch the scent of another being lurking in the shadows. Another heartbeat thudding in the night, then not even ten seconds later do the guards fall from their horses, enchanted by some sleeping spell. Geralt quickly pulls out his silver sword as you bare your opened hands, emitting crackling purple lighting from your fingertips, this is sorcery at play and you know just how to fight it if need be.

"You can put down your sword...and calm your lightning. I'm not here to hurt you." Speaks a woman's calm voice, her shadowed silhouette walking into view.

"Says the witch hiding in the woods." Mutters Geralt defensively, sword still held out in front of him as you slowly lower your hands, dissipating away the lightning. You can tell this mage has come with no ill intent, even if you don't adherently feel very fond of such beings, you're wise enough to understand that not all are terrible.

"Sorceress." Corrects the curly haired woman.

"Witch." He growls darkly, you lightly touch him on the shoulder, silently asking him to calm is unneeded anger, he slowly brings his sword to his side.

"Triss Merigold. I serve King Foltest." She serenely replies. A simple mage.

"So he makes a show of kicking us out...then sends his errand girl to slip me some coin so we kill his monster." Proclaims Geralt smartly, believing he's just figured her out.

"Not a very original plan for a king." You add, your brows furrowing in thought.

"It's my plan. My coin. And I don't want you to kill the beast. I want you to help me save it." Assures Triss.

"Save it?" You ask.

Wanting to hear more she takes you both into her area within the castle where she goes into more detail about the happenings in the woods. Geralt leans against a counter as you sit on a wooden table, the both of you facing Triss who stands by a desk and chair directly in front of you.

"Six years ago, stable hands statred vanishing at the castle above the city. Before long, citizens were disappearing throughout all Temeria. Foltest's royal guards soon realized the creature was coming from the crypt where the king's sister Adda is buried. Rumor has it she was having an affair with a young man in town when she died."

oh the drama, you wanted to laugh when she said that but wisely chose against that.

"Was she pregnant?" You finally ask, your curiosity getting the better of you. Maybe that's why this beast is killing people?

"If she were, that would make her child the sole heir to the throne as Foltest never married." Explains Triss as her expression changes to a thoughtful one, "The king fled the castle, ignoring the rising death toll. After Nilfgaard overthrew their king, the Brotherhood couldn't risk it happening again, so they sent me here three months ago to cure the creature."

"Vukodlaks are freak mutations." Says Geralt, mind reeling with what this creature truly is.

"They can't be cured." You add as Triss' brows furrow, "A vukodlak is a type of mutated werewolf, its a beast that conceptualizes in the womb of a dead woman, this woman however must be pregnant. It's rare, but it happens."

"How strange, maybe if I take you to the creatures latest victim then you might have some understanding as to what it actually is."

"Worth a try."

Triss leads you and Geralt through the pre-burial section under the castle where all the dead lay awaiting their final home in the ground. The place reeks of death, spices to mask the dead smell, and too many salts and herbs doing their part to delay the decomposition process.

"Two thousand orens if either of you can tell me what exactly killed these people." Says Triss as all three of you scan over the cloaked bodies laying on wooden tables.

"You didn't want the people to know that it bested a Witcher. And you let them believe that he fled with their coin." Mutters Geralt.

"You two clearly weren't acquainted." At the end of the long cavernous room does she stop at a stone tub of white salt and sand, you can smell the dead man underneath. You walk past both of them before standing in front of the tub.

Taking a breath, you reach down to wipe away the white sand until the caved in chest of the fallen Witcher is revealed. You stick your hand inside the opened chest cavity to gather a mental image of what could be missing. You look over at a curious Geralt, "His hearts missing along with his liver."

"Only one creature I know is that picky an eater. A striga." Explains Geralt while you remove your wandering hand from within the broken rib cage to wipe it off on your pants. You then turn back around to face Triss and Geralt, noting how the mages face begins morphing into that of befuddlement.

"Strigas are old wives' tales." She replies, not completely sure of herself.

You shrug, "They're very rare as are the vukodlak, but they can happen. However the only way to make one is through a curse." You add, crimson eyes trailing over the mutilated body of the dark haired Witcher. So this is really what became of that other Witcher, better him then Geralt, nonetheless he fought bravely.

"Someone wanted Adda dead." Realizes Triss as Geralt hums in agreement.

"But the curse didn't stop with Adda. It turned her daughter into a monster." Triss' head tilts in surprised puzzlement at your troubling knowledge.

"Her daughter?"

"Strigas are female. This striga's a princess." Concludes Geralt with a sigh, his gaze searching for your own perplexed expression as you turn around to face him and Triss who still looks rather disturbed.

"Well then, lets see if this king of yours is willing to let us help." You quip at Triss as you begin leading the way out of the large burial room. "Can't be that difficult now can it?"

——

"Miss Merigold, you were dispatched to settle a family affair, not to enlist a mutant mercenary and a rouge hybrid for a game of sleuthing." Argues one of the kings guardsmen as King Foltest hungrily rips apart a turkey leg, rather disgustingly if you're being honest. He even smells of meat and sweat.

"This is no game, Captain. Tonight is a full moon, Geralt and Y/N have already proved themselves to be invaluable. We believe we can cure the creature." Implores Triss urgently as she vouches for you, Geralt, and her pertinent point at hand. You just lean yourself against the rooms wallpaper as Geralt stands next to you, feeling a bit doubtful that she'll be able to convince any of them.

"You say she's a girl. Then you will refer to her as Her Royal Highness." Directs the kings guard before his other man, who instructed for you and Geralt to leave Temeria only yesterday, walks over to give his two cents.

"Segelin." He says introducing himself before continuing, "I believe urgency warrants flexibility in a court decorum. The Witcher's theory is nonsense. Princess Adda was the people's angel. Who'd wish to murder her?" Implores the man Segelin as his eyes wander over to you and then to Geralt, eyeing you both suspiciously.

"What about her lover?" You inquire, folding your arms over your leather armored chest.

"Seditious rumors. Idle courtesans trading out boredom for jealousy." Quickly replies the kings guardsman giving you a distasteful look.

"Perhaps if you'd call off your guards, if we were able to search the abandoned castle, we could find clues as to who cursed her." Explains Triss, attempting to convince the king. That's not a bad idea.

"Except, these two monster hunters would kill the princess as she sleeps, and collect the miners' coin." Argues Segelin as you simply roll your crimson eyes at the grey bearded man. What's got water up his breeches?

"Call her a princess. Call her a unicorn if you'd like to." Begins Geralt, "She grew inside Adda, feeding on her petrified womb."

"Have you no respect?!" Shouts the guardsmen defensively, the king just continues his gruesome assault on his turkey leg as he listens.

"Mutating. Growing for years till she got so hungry..." Geralt steps closer, the guardsmen laying a quick hand upon the hilt of his sheathed sword as Geralt continues unfazed, "she was forced to slither out. Rotten muscle, bent bones, two spidery legs, claws dragging in the dirt." You watch in satisfaction as the kings eyes flash with disgust. You've got him.

"An overgrown abortion." You add shrewdly, pushing yourself off of the wall as you walk next to the long table, the kings face cast down in deep thought as the other men throw you nasty glares.

"Enough." He snaps, setting down his half eaten leg of turkey.

"Your Highness?" Begins the loyal concerned guardsmen.

"Leave." Growls the king menacingly, his men nodding before making their way for the door, Triss, Geralt, and you following.

Opening up the door first, Geralt politely opens it, offering his hand for the others to follow out, you giving him a wink as you tail the guardsmen who's last to leave. As soon as you reach the doors entrance you quickly shove the guardsmen into the hallway before Geralt quickly shuts the doors on all of them, making sure to lock it as they shout their angry protests.

You listen to the pounding on the wood as you calmly walk past Geralt to the right side of the long table, leaning your hand onto the clothed wood as he casually rests an arm over a great oaken chair, opposite of the king.

"Who's the princess' father?" Immediately asks Geralt with a curious tilt of his head, the king glaring bitterly.

"My men will kill you two, bastards." He warns darkly, Geralt pulls his arm away from the chair to slowly approach him, you standing your ground while he walks past you.

Eyeing up the plump king, you slowly drag your fingers over the wood while taking small steps closer, "Your threats don't shake me, but it's funny...you learn your sister was murdered, and you didn't even flinch." Your sly remark has the king's eyes staring daggers at his roast turkey, while Geralt hums in agreement, walking himself towards a window before turning around to lean himself on a wooden cabinet as he faces the king.

"But the moment I mention the girl's father.." King Foltest purses his lips together, his eyes downcast onto the floor, "Why were you never married?" Questions Geralt smoothly, the king lets out a sigh as he leans back into his chair.

"You are speaking to a king." He proclaims with no heat is in his words, other then something else that he seems to be hiding from you both.

"That's exactly my point. Why not produce your own heir? Why not kill the striga and avoid this revolt? Why drag this all out?" Suggests Geralt, his brows furrowing together at the strange reason for everything that's happened. You walk over closer to the king, his beady eyes following you the whole time, you've already figured out the possible truth. And why must it be so disgusting too?

Raising an eyebrow, you reveal a small smirk to the glaring king, "Between the three of us, and I would dare not tell...who is the striga's father?" King Foltest appears to want to say something, almost willing to answer your question. But instead he looks to the window as he slowly rises from his seat, bringing his gaze back over to Geralt.

"I remember hearing stories about Witcher's when I was a child." He says, voice low and gravely while eying up Geralt, turning his sullen gaze upon you now, "And that of dhampirs. Is it true what they say? That you're neither living nor dead, unkillable but for silver?" Sneers the sweaty king, anger emitting from his every word, "That the mutations that grant Witcher's their...abilities. Also erase your emotions? Must be." He criticizes sharply eyeing the two of you with hate, "Cause only a person devoid of all heart could accuse a brother of bedding his murdered sister while urging him to kill her." Suddenly the doors burst open, a small handful of yelling guards racing in with their weapons bared, you don't even flinch as a second later the king throws a hand into the air, silently commanding them to halt.

He turns to you then back to Geralt, "Leave Temeria. Never return." His command is noted as Geralt gives him a nod before turning to walk out the door. You follow suit and smile at a nervous guard who looks like he might have just shit himself. The both of you silently walk out of the castle, deciding to make a new plan of attack.

——

Crouching on the roof of the abandoned castle as the wind and snow blows past your face, you slowly crawl closer to the front gates. Where two incredibly anxious guards converse about how much longer their post is until they may leave. Quietly you pull out a loose piece of the castles roofing, before chucking it into the direction of a crow where the bird and the ceiling make a loud rackety noise as they take off elsewhere. To your utter satisfaction the two nervous guards yell and book it down the cobblestone pathway and away from the castle.

Well that was easy enough.

Pleased with your harmless mischievousness, you decide to find your own way into the castle while Geralt takes the front entrance. You find a broken rotting part in the roofs wooden beamed structure where you then purposefully slip through, falling down to the floor, catching yourself at the very last moment as you levitate your body the rest of the way for a silent and painless landing.

The castle smells of mystery and dead rats as you walk quietly throughout the gloomy thing, suddenly your ears pricking to the sounds of Geralt and Triss rummaging around in someone's room down the hall. With a smirk upon your lips you stalk closer, listening to them speak about letters from Adda's mother as they both begin walking for the door.

As soon as you catch sight of Triss' oblivious face do you finally make yourself known, turning your skin the color of bluish pale grey, the whites of your eyes turning to black as your scarlet irises practically glow red. You hiss, baring your pearly white fangs, her face contorts into pure dreadful fear as she lets out a surprised scream. Geralt suddenly rushing to her side, his magic at the ready before his concerned face slackens to throw you an amused glare.

Cackling you turn back into your more presentable self, "You two find anything?" You wheeze as Triss gathers her bearings.

Breathing heavily she practically stares daggers at you, "Oh yes, just a fucking heart attack!" She breathlessly retorts, throwing you a harsh glare as Geralt walks past her. The corners of his lips pulling up into a smirk as he catches your entertained gaze, you smiling back at him like a fool in love.

"You're an ass." She mutters, shaking her head at you while she follows Geralt down the dreary shadowed hallway. An enthralled grin upon your beaming features as you tail behind them.

——

Once back inside Triss' lair of sorts within the castle walls, unbeknownst to King Foltest, the three of you let Segelin in on what they found in the ruined castle. He stands, eyes cast onto the letters, "A Queen Mother cursing her own children for their affair." He plops the old papers onto a table, "This could destroy the throne." He says dismally while leaning, both hands pressed to the wooden table.

"Sancia wanted Adda to get rid of the child." Says Geralt, concluding all that appears to be written down in those letters between Adda and her Queen Mother.

"It seems she refused. Repeatedly." Adds Triss while you all stare at the back of the man.

Segelin sighs, "And now she's taken that curse with her to the grave."

Triss clasps her hands together, "You've served the family for decades. Was Sancia involved in dark sorcery of any kind?"

He turns to look at her, "No. Of course not." His expression reveals no faults, yet you feel something is not right here. He's not nearly surprised enough about all of this.

Touching a dangling green plant that hangs out over a wooden cupboard, you raise a brow at him, "What was your relationship to Adda?"

He rests his hands casually against the long desk behind him, "Well, I like to think that she saw me as a confidant." He smiles, "And a protector, even. We used to talk at great length about her troubles. She could be very naïve."

"She ever mention her brother?" Asks Geralt from his place by the wall, a foot or so away from you and Triss' plants.

Segelin looks down at the letters, "Certainly not like this."

"She was ashamed." Says Triss as Segelin turns to face her.

"Or she was frightened. What if the relationship was not.." He pauses a moment like he can't even bring himself to say it, his eyes trail over the three of you, "..consensual?"

Geralt hums in thought at this indeed interesting bout of information, he looks to Segelin, "You think he raped Adda, then cursed the child to cover it up?"

"Well, kings have done more for less."

Geralt's eyes fall elsewhere, "True." He mutters as you mull over everything previously said. This doesn't sit right with you at all.

You take a step away from the plants, "There's only one wrinkle, though." Both Triss and Geralt watch as you stand almost threateningly in front of Segelin, they have not a clue what you're doing. The greying man eyes you nervously, you narrow your eyes at him, "Your scent was on her sheets."

Triss takes a step foreward, "Y/N?"

Your crimson eyes never leave him once, "Old ones...and new ones."

He leans away from you, "What would I be doing in a dead girl's bed?" He accuses, face shifted into a repulsed grimace. You lean in closer so that your mouth remains mere inches from his ear, he's visibly uncomfortable.

"I smelt what you were doing."

You move backwards to stand in from of the conflicted man, he says not a single word as you patiently wait for him to break. The moment lasts a couple seconds more, you can hear how loud his heart is pounding within his chest. His lip quivers, breathing increasing with anxiousness, "Foltest had no right!" Shouts the angered man while you scowl and step away, "He seduced Adda! Abused his position. He was always nagging her for attention. Always nagging! But he didn't love her....I did."

"You cursed the woman you loved?" Denounces Triss like a disappointed mother.

Segelin shakes his head, "I cursed Foltest, not her."

"Countless are dead because of your jealousy."

"Countless are dead because of Foltest!" Protests Segelin, "He spoiled Adda with his seed. He refuses to kill this striga. He lies to his people. And yet you wag your finger in my face."

"If you wanted him to suffer, you could have just exposed the affair." Counters Triss while the three of you stare down the heated man.

"And hurt Adda?" He says softly, "Never. Her memory will not be sullied, not while I'm alive to protect it." Geralt glances from you to him.

"Tell us how to lift the curse."

Segelin pauses a moment before looking defiantly up at your Witcher, "No. Foltest will watch as Temeria turns against him. Just as he turned Adda against me." Geralt hums in response.

Fed up with his excuses you walk up to him, he slightly cowers back before keeping straight again, a snobby expression upon his greying features before you crack him across the temple. Sending him falling to the ground in an instant as he plunges into unconsciousness.

"Y/N." You turn to face Triss.

"What? You were all thinking it."

——

Waiting atop the crumbling castle roof where this striga is soon to be, you watch from above as Geralt and King Foltest speak about how you and him will handle the princess. He gives the king Renfri's brooch as a gift for the princess incase Geralt does not live to see the light of day. You watch the king and his men finally leave, letting Geralt enter the dying castle as he looks up towards the roof for a second before turning his gaze for the wooden doors.

Taking the same route as earlier in the day, you soon find yourself in Adda's room. Segelin tied pathetically to the wooden beams of the dead princess' bed as your unwilling captive. Geralt brooding by the window as he thinks of what to do next, none of you truly having a solid clue as to what should be done about this royal striga. You watch when the greying man glares at you, blood smeared across his lips from your abrupt assault not even an hour ago.

"The both of you! This is madness!" He cries angrily, tugging at his cloth restraints, "What are we doing here? What's happening?" He wonders while searching desperately around the room for a nonexistent answer.

"How can we lift the curse." Mutters Geralt, his leather armored back to you and Segelin.

Segelin shakes his head, "No! This is not right. Foltest must pay for what he did." Whines Segelin once more, you simply fold your arms in irritation as the man looks to you for a sign that you care, which you most defiantly don't.

Rolling your eyes, you scowl at him, "You're already too blind to even comprehend your own faults. This is what you get for your childish actions." You mutter bitterly as he glares hopelessly at you, frustration clearly evident on his dirty face.

"Carry me out. I order you." Demands Segelin as Geralt turns around to face the desperate man. "Tell us how to lift the curse." He orders, Segelin huffs in frustration, avoiding Geralt's intimidating gaze.

In a blur of black and grey your hand is suddenly around his neck as his eyes go wide in stunned alarm, your squeeze isn't enough to choke him, but you're hopeful it's enough to change his mind. "I'd advise you to listen well, your life is already standing on the edge of a knife." You hiss maliciously in his ear before releasing him, he lets out a dramatic gasp as his wide eyes follow your every movement.

He turns his attention from you to Geralt as his mouth opens to finally answer, "Sh-She was hiding from the Brotherhood. She sold me a lamb....Sh-She told me to wait until a full moon, to wait and then to kill it." He stammers, Geralt crouching down to meet his eye level, "And then I recited some silly chant. And then I bathed in the lamb's blood until sunrise. Until the rooster crowed three times. And that is all. I swear. I swear. Now please let us leave." Begs Segelin desperately as he fruitlessly pulls against his constraints, your face falling into a frown, understanding immediately what this idiot has done.

"What was the chant?" Wonders Geralt, his brows furrowing in thought while he stares daggers at Segelin who looks down in frustration.

"Uh..It was years ago." Protests Segelin as he tries to think up the chant, "It was Elven. Um..." Suddenly he begins reciting an Elven curse, your eyes going wide in realization as Geralt shares a quick wary glance with you before racing over to his bag of potions, earning a confused expression from the bound man.

"Wh-what is it? The..I...I've done what's been asked. What more can I do?" He wonders in blissful ignorance as you let out a pissed off huff of air.

"You've done more than enough you perverted fool, unless you can keep a fucking striga out of her crypt until a fucking rooster crows three times." You snap while unsheathing your dagger, his face falling in frightened understanding as Geralt fumbles around with his potions, trying to find the right one to take before the action starts.

Segelin's eyes go downcast, his whole aurora turning to pure dread, "You're gonna have to fight it till dawn." He murmurs softly, staring at the far wall as Geralt downs a potion, his eyeballs turning into two pools of inky darkness. You turn, hastily walking for the door as Geralt quickly follows behind you.

"No. No. Come back here! Please. Please! You'd leave a man bound to die in such indignity?" He cries desperately, pulling on his restraints but to no avail.

"You're not a man." Growls Geralt as he takes his place by your side, the two of you walking down the dreary hallway as the snow falls lightly from outside the nearby broken windows, you catching the scent of the beast on the cool night air.

"Remember not to kill the princess, Y/N" Implores your Witcher with a smirk, you simply roll your eyes.

"We'll see if you can last till dawn my love, I don't doubt it." You retort, a suggestive tone hidden in your voice that's most definitely caught by Geralt.

The hallway breaks off into another section of the abandoned castle, you giving him a nod before turning in that direction, deciding it best to take on the royal beast from two sides if he gets caught up in some trouble. You silently walk down the dusty corridor past rotting wood and broken glass, cracked pieces of stone and the occasional human bones.

The enthralling shriek of the striga bellows throughout the castle walls, it's high pitched scratchy scream sounding like a knife that's stabbed you in the ears. Without another thought you race down the entrance-way towards the sounds of a great messy struggle, the princess has found Geralt, and she doesn't seem too pleased.

Turning round another stony corner, you halt dead in your tracks as your scarlet eyes zero in on the striga who's completely manhandling your Witcher, throwing him this way and that, deflecting every punch he's throwing at her. He suddenly rips a lamp from the wall and uses it to crack her across the side of her grotesque wrinkly head. She stumbles back at the violent impact, pain running throughout her body before she quickly recovers, hurling him backwards with a fiercely strong blow.

As Geralt falls onto his back you swiftly race down the hallway as the striga climbs on top of his armored body. She doesn't hear you coming, or when you electrocute her without warning, sending her flying into the nearby wall as she screeches in pain. You stop to help Geralt up, your right hand crackling with energy as he stands and glances down at the light emitting from it, then over to the pissed off princess. Who almost immediately recovers from her abrupt assault, she stands, her umbilical cord dragging as she stalks over towards the two of you.

In an instant she charges, a piercing scream sending your ears into agony at the frantic noise as Geralt lunges for her, grabbing her shoulders as he throws her against the brick wall.

For the next couple hours would you and Geralt take turns beating on the striga, down this hallway and that, into doors and wooden walls, crashing into cabinets and breaking more cracked windows through the struggle. Every fucking time she would recover and throw it back at you ten fold, like nothing had even happened in the first place.

Racing across the hall to Geralt's aid, you electrocute the royal beast just before she's about to bite into his exposed jugular, she falls back as you get closer, preparing to hopefully knock her ugly face unconscious for a while. You're slowly getting more and more fatigued with every couple minutes that fly by, this fucking striga giving you a real run for your money. No matter how much stamina you have.

But as you get within a few feet from her, she whips around, slashing you across the face with her razor sharp claws. Sending you flying into the wall as a hot stream of blood pours out of your freshly opened wounds. Dazed, you try and raise yourself from the ground and watch as Geralt gets pinned down by the striga once again. You blink back your blurry vision, painfully raising your hand as lightning brightly emits from your opened palm and fingertips just as Geralt uses his magic to break the stone flooring from right out under him.

Himself and the striga immediately falling through the broken floor and straight to the crypts below. Rising to your feet, you can feel as your facial wounds begin to fuse the skin back together again, your injury a thing of the past except for the strips of blood that mark it's path.

You hastily limp over to the hole in the ground, looking down to find Geralt laying in the rubble before slowly getting up. Without another thought, you jump down, landing hard on a pile of rocks as the unconscious striga lays motionless next to you. Pulling yourself up from the wreckage, you tiredly shuffle over to the center of the room as Geralt puts an enchantment onto the doorways so that the creature cannot escape.

"I don't know about you but I could think of ten different ways we could have spent tonight." You jest, breathing heavily as you hold onto your aching side, Geralt hums in reply before turning around and freezing, his face morphing into wariness as he gives you a concerned look. You turn around to see what's bothering him, only to find absolutely nothing, which is most definitely the problem.

"Oh fuck." You whisper as Geralt cautiously walks over to you, the both of you looking around the room as you stand back to back.

You hear a dull rapid thudding of a heartbeat before suddenly the striga jumps down from the crumbling ceiling to pounce at Geralt, she lands, whipping her hand across your chest as she picks him up, throwing him into the nearby stone pillar. You stumble back at the abrupt impact, watching as Geralt gets his ass beat by the pissed off striga, it throws him into another pillar, quickly turning around to race for the open doorway. But before it can get through, the white force field knocks her back, she snaps around once more shrieking in rage, bolting on all fours towards Geralt.

You pull your bruised and tired body onto your feet, reaching your hands out to send volts of hot white lightning into the vessel of the striga, sending her into a cruel stone pillar as she screeches in misery. When you look to your left a beautiful streak of orange sunrise emits from an opened spot in the roof, you breath heavily as the striga and Geralt take notice of the sunlight. Your eyes go wide as the creature races for the safety of her dirty crypt, you trailing behind her as Geralt jumps to his feet to follow.

Your boots pound against the gravely stone of the abandoned crypts as you valiantly throw yourself onto the furious princess while she attempts to launch herself into her resting place, she falls into the wall as your hands smack onto the cracked floor.

"Get in the fucking crypt!" You scream at Geralt as he makes a mad dash for the opened tomb, heeding to your rushed words without a second thought.

You watch as he falls into the stony coffin and shutting it just as the striga launches herself onto the thing, her cries and horrid wails sounding noisily throughout the large drafty room. Picking up a fist sized rock you chuck it at her, cracking her perfectly across the back of her grotesque head.

"Your royal pain-in-the-ass, come and get me." You taunt, lightning crackling from your fingertips as the angry princess snaps her attention to you.

She jumps down and immediately pummels you into the rocks as you send harrowing sparks of electricity into her body that thankfully throws her backwards, your vision going blurry once again. Gods your head hurts. Dark spots cloud your sight as you rest on the rocks in exhaustion, your side most definitely hurting as your eyes flutter closed.

You awaken to the sounds of Geralt as he opens up the tomb and steps out to walk over towards the princess, a concerned and astonished expression crossing over his dirty features. Pushing some ruble from your legs you finally stand and slowly walk down the small stairway as Geralt leans down to see if the princess is actually okay, considering her naked mud covered self is facing away from you both.

You can hear as her heartbeat picks up in pace, but before you're able to warn him, the princess turns around and in a confused rage pins him to the ground just as she sinks her teeth into the side of his neck. She falls back in fear as Geralt's pained gaze finds your own bloody face while you race to his side. Your eyes going wide as he lays upon the stony ground, blood seeping out from his mouth and ripped neck as you try and put pressure on it.

Tears slowly begin building up in your shimmering irises, "No. No. No...Geralt, look at me...look at me." You desperately plea as his golden eyes try and stay open for you, but he's slipping as more blood spurts out from his wounds, "Don't you fucking leave me you prick, not now of all times, or places. Geralt!" You cry as his eyelids flutter shut, his breathing slowing down as you try and cover his bleeding neck the best you can, not sure what to do. If you leave and try to get help he'll bleed to death, but if you stay then his chances are less grim but still uncertain.

Your mind swirls with what's the best course of action when suddenly you hear the rushed steps of Triss coming to your aid, and just in the nick of time.

——

Leaning yourself into the welcoming comfort of Triss' plush lounge chair, you watch as she mixes some more healing ingredients into a marble bowl at her work counter. You touch the side of your torso where a white linen wrap tightly hugs around your aching side where you fell on Geralt's silver sword. It throbs under your soft touch, but due to your immaculate healing capabilities your wounds will not bother you in a couple days time.

Turning your head lazily to the right to find a sleeping Geralt laying on the bed, recovering from his own injuries, you idly smile at his peaceful yet considerably less dirty form. Suddenly his eyes fly open, a puzzled expression upon his handsome features as Triss calmly turns around.

She smiles fondly at him, "Your scars. You heal quite nicely, if not for Y/N's blood you would most certainly be dead." She concludes knowingly as Geralt gives her a confused look, "She dropped some of her blood into your wounds to speed up the healing process. It was more effective then I had first realized." He turns to face you, a relieved sigh escaping from his parted lips.

You smile back at him, "Don't worry about the princess, she'll be fine, Triss has arranged for her to stay with the Sisters of Melitele." You chime in with a shrug, "Also she had her first bath."

"You should know Foltest issued a statement. The honorable Lord Ostrit gave his life to slay the vukodlak. Miners are gathering ore for a statue." Adds Triss with a grin as Geralt attempts to get up, "Anyone else would've killed the princess. You both chose not to." She finishes as Geralt painfully rises into a sitting position, a grimace upon his sweaty face.

"We'll take our coin now. I need to get back to my horse." Grunts your eager Witcher as he sits on the side of the bed, pressing his hand against his wrapped torso. Triss only grins in reply, walking over to hand him the leather sack of coins. He quickly takes it with a nod, Triss turning to flash you a knowing smile before excusing herself from the area.

Turning to Geralt with a frown, you search for his eyes as they glance around the room before landing on you, "Lay down you idiot, I watched you bleed out and go as pale as a ghost." You lightly argue, he sets the coins onto the makeshift bed as he finds your frowning gaze once more, "If I hadn't been there to give you some of my blood...fuck...you'd be dead. So don't you dare try and get up or I'll give you a reason to be in pain."

His stern face suddenly breaks out into an amused grin, "I'd rather not face your wrath my dear, although I wouldn't mind a couple more hours here if you decide to lay next to me." He suggests with pleading eyes, ones that know exactly how to win you over.

Leaning into the soft back of your seat, you cross your arms over your chest, "You're sweating, honestly still smell a bit, and your sheets are stained with blood..." You add with an inquiring raise of your brow, "How could I ever say no to such an alluring offer?" He breaks out into a beaming smile at your humored words, his heart just about fluttering in his muscular chest as you suddenly rise to your feet, walking over to him before crawling over to his other side near the wall. You turn to face him, a hand propped up against your head while you watch him lay down once again. His back touches the mattress as he turns his head to face you, a blissful smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"Yes. That's the face right there, the suave steely golden eyes that I've fallen in love with. No matter how beat up you get...you still make me feel things."

"What kind of things, hmm?" He wonders with a lazy smirk as he watches your face break out into a small smile.

Trailing your delicate touch over his old scars, you look over to him with tired eyes, "Things I wouldn't even dare share with the very stars in the sky, nor the moon herself. And I tell her everything." You muse before leaning over to kiss his exposed shoulder. You listen as he hums in delight while you scoot yourself close enough that your whole body is flush against his, "Just sleep for now, love. You've had quite the rough night...and that's putting it lightly. I honestly thought for a moment that...that uh...I might have lost you." He searches for your hand, holding it tightly as a small way to comfort you while he locks eyes with your own downcast ones.

"I wouldn't dare think of ever leaving you alone in this world, not for a second. Y/N you mean more to me then all the coins and jewels combined, more then...uh..."

Laughing you shift your face to gently kiss his bare shoulder before looking up at him once again, "Geralt, there's not a lot of things that you love. That's honestly some short list you've got there...but it matters not, I'm your favorite person in the world and that's all I need to know."

He smiles adoringly at your closing eyes, sleep tenderly calling to you by the second as you hug him closer. He stays silent, wanting to listen to the calming thumps of your relaxed heart beat as your mind drifts into slumber. Closing his own tired eyes, he finally lets sleep take him into darkness where no monsters of any kind wait to hurt him. He's safe in your arms as you're safe in his, the two of you blissfully enjoying one another's company after a taxing hunt.

-

Tagged: @notahappytree​ @ashleyforeverareject​ @sokkasdarling​ @kmuir1​@haleypearce @diegos-butt​ (@auds24 sorry idk why ur name won’t work)

[jenomark]

PART 1: LUCAS, THE BOYFRIEND

➔Pairing: Lucas x Reader (Female) | Ten x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: -.- ➔Genre: Smut (+ angst, + fluff, + plot) ➔Warnings: vaginal penetration, passionless sex, exchanging money for sex, very light bdsm and mentions of pegging ➔Word count: 5,107

➔Summary: You don’t know what you do. You don’t even know who you are. Some would call you a whore. Some would refer to you as a sex worker. All of your clients would say you’re damn good at your job.

MASTERLIST

  It hadn’t rained in months. It felt strange to hear it coming down hard enough to drown out Lucas’ snoring. You laid in bed and listened a little while, wishing that it would lull you back to sleep somehow. But your eyes were wide open and they kept searching for the clock Lucas kept on his bedside table. 2:45 a.m. 3:14 a.m. 4:20 a.m. Time kept moving as you stayed still, eyes occasionally glancing up at the water marks on his ceiling, and hoping the rain wouldn’t drip through.

 “Lucas.” you whispered. 

  When he didn’t stir, you sat up in his bed and reached for your phone. He slept soundly on the nights when you had sex, which suited you just fine. You didn’t want him turning over in the night and asking you why you weren’t sleeping. 

  You unlocked your phone, your password far more complicated than it needed to be. You and Lucas once got into an argument when he asked you what you were hiding from him. You felt too exposed, for someone with something to hide. You felt like you no longer belonged to yourself, and he felt hurt that you didn’t want to share what secrets you kept.

  Unread text messages: 56   Unread emails: 134

  Your phone wallpaper was a photo of Lucas during Christmas of last year. He was smiling and holding up a gift you had bought him: an expensive watch nestled in black satin. You remembered the moment well. He opened the box and nearly dropped it to the floor when he realized it was the same model of the one he’d been lusting after for years. Every little boys dream was to own an expensive watch just like their father, and Lucas was no different.

“We can’t afford this.” Lucas had said.

  You, not we. You had wanted to say it, but his family was around the Christmas tree and all eyes were on you. It was true that Lucas could not afford the watch with his low-end salary, but you could. Of course, you had to play the part of the lowly office worker with a salary fit for someone shoved into a shoebox apartment.

“Don’t worry about it,” you had said to soothe him. “You’re worth every penny.”

  And Lucas was. You were with him because he was the first man in a while to make you feel alive. He used to be more daring before he got older, used to make you laugh so hard you’d nearly piss your pants. Like all things, the older things get, the harder it is to keep them in good condition. Your relationship with Lucas never failed on the surface, not really, but there were too many things brewing underneath. You were a lot like the watermarked ceiling: barely holding it together.

  You checked to make sure Lucas was sleeping before opening your inbox full to the brim with emails from men. The descriptions were all the same: I’m tall, handsome, and worth your time. The names all basic and no doubt aliases, were lined in a row for as far as you could scroll down. Every once in a while, you would entertain one of them and look at their email, expanding it so you could see their plea. Pick me, I’m a winner. 

  Tonight's lucky winner was a twenty-three year old artist. The picture attached was of a man smiling, his whole face lighting up at whomever was behind the camera. He looked barely legal, and definitely too cute for what he wrote in his description

WinWin, 23. I want to fuck you raw and parade you around town to all of my friends.

Not today, kiddo. 

  You closed the email and set your phone back in your lap. You wondered how much longer you could keep it up.

     You were dreaming of him, which you did often. He was sitting at his kitchen table, his tie undone and resting around his neck, and a newspaper spread out in front of him. You waltzed into the kitchen in a bouncy dress, announcing your presence with a slight clearing of your throat. The picture felt very old school, static-y lines and scalloped edges. Like a dream of the past, you were bordering in housewife territory, red lipstick turning grey in the black and white film. He looked up immediately to smile at you over his shoulder. The camera panned to reveal a table with food set on it, and two children sitting in chairs.

“Is it almost ready?” he asked

  All you wanted to do was go kiss your dream husband and wrap your arms around him. You wanted those kids to pull faces, like they were really disgusted their parents were still in love after all the years. But you couldn’t move. You looked down and your little kitten heels were stuck in quicksand that was dragging you under too fast. He couldn’t save you. He didn’t even care, just went back to his newspaper. It was all white noise.

  You woke with a jolt, shooting up so fast that Lucas came out of the bathroom. A toothbrush was hanging out of his mouth, and he wasn’t wearing clothes. 

“Bad dream?” he asked, toothpaste spitting in all directions. 

  You looked at his body, just trying to collect your thoughts. Lucas assumed you were checking him out. He started flexing his muscles to make you laugh, showing you all the parts of him he’d been working out lately. You smiled for his benefit and held your hand to your chest.

“Nightmares,” you said. Lucas went into the bathroom to rinse his mouth. When he came back out, he was heading towards his wardrobe.  “Are you leaving for work so soon?”

“Gym.”

“Again?” you asked. “You went last night. Isn’t it true that if you go to the gym too much you’ll leave a very disgruntled and lonely girlfriend behind?”

 When Lucas wasn’t working out, he was at work. During the day, he was the terribly intimidating Veterinarian assistant, his pink scrubs and puppy pin making all the Great Dane’s growl in his direction. From another direction, all the women who worked there practically swooned when he walked his muscled body through the door.  

You got out of bed and opened the blinds. “The rain stopped.” 

  The view was terrible, but he got what he paid for. You watched the little old lady from across the other apartment building hang her clothes on a line. When you turned back to talk to Lucas, he was silently masturbating.

 “Oh shit,” he breathed.

  You closed the blinds quickly before he practically tackled you, lifted you into the air and swung you around. 

You screamed like you were being murdered. “Lucas! Put me down.”

  He lifted up your pajama shorts and smacked your ass. His laugh was loud and boisterous, and you couldn’t help but laugh with him. He dropped you on the bed. His big cock was swinging between his legs before he took it back in his hands and continued stroking himself. You weren’t in the mood for sex, but the sight of him standing over you made it hard to resist. 

“I have to be at work.” you said, your eyes on his cock.

“That doesn’t sound very convincing.” he laughed.

  He took your ankle and pulled you to the edge of the bed, sliding you across the sheets like hot butter in a pan. You were taking off your shorts and panties while still denying him access.

“I do!” you said. “And I need you to drop me off at my apartment so I can get my things.”

 You didn’t need to tear your tank top off. Lucas pulled the spaghetti straps off on either side to reveal your breasts. His big paws were on you as he moved closer. Without wearing a condom, he pushed himself inside of you, both hands holding either breast while he thrusted.

 There was no talking as you fucked. Lucas took your leg and placed it on his shoulder. He kissed your calf softly. There were always tender moments like that, where it felt like it was only him and you that existed in the world. His eyes were big and brown and full of love whenever he looked at you.  You hoped that when he looked into your eyes, he didn’t just see his own reflection peering back at him.

  You felt something swell inside of you with a big wave, before quelling. Lately, you couldn’t seem to orgasm with him. There was a mental disconnect somewhere between him and you, but that didn’t stop you from pretending. You moaned and told him you were coming, even though you and him could feel yourself drying up.

  Lucas lifted your ass up and held your body as he moved, his pace too fast for you to enjoy. You just stopped moaning and stared at him, your mind completely blank. Whenever he came, the veins in his neck popped out. You were expecting him to come inside of you, but when he pulled out and came on your stomach, you let him. You held him as he collapsed on top of you, his big body making it harder for you to breathe.

  Dressed in his gym clothes, Lucas sat in the driver's seat. The drive over to your apartment was silent, mostly because Lucas still hated that you hadn’t moved in with him yet. The other reason was the awkwardness that existed after you both had sex. You laid on the bed for far too long with his semen pooling in your belly button. Not bothering to hand you a towel to clean up, he very quietly got dressed. 

  Lucas had never came on you before. He had always been the romantic look-me-in-the-eyes-as-I-fill-you-up type of guy. It’s not that you didn’t like it, just that it was so out of character you were wondering if something was wrong.

“Do you want me to come inside?” he asked.

  You snapped out of your thoughts, leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “I think I can handle it on my own.”

  You got out of the car and walked up your steps without looking back at him. You went inside and closed the door behind you, leaning against the wood to regain your nerve.

  You didn’t like Lucas being anywhere near your apartment. He was insecure that yours looked a little better than his. Whenever he was there, he had a million questions about the things you owned. Why they were so expensive. Why it seemed like you had never lived there. You assured him it was because you spent the majority of time at his apartment, but there was always a bitter taste left in both of your mouths any time it was brought up. The other reason was that you weren’t sure what he would find if he looked hard enough.

 You ran up the stairs and unlocked your second door. You could never be too careful. Inside, you were met with a musty smell. You didn’t bother cleaning as you went, just tore through the place gathering what you needed. You stopped briefly to look at yourself in the mirror, at the way your pantsuit hugged your body. Business professional is what the saleswoman had said. It’s what all the men want. 

What do you know about what men want? You wanted to ask her.

  You moved on, click-clacking your way to your bedroom. Your bed was unmade, and there was trash strewn everywhere. You opened the door to your walk-in closet, grabbed a duffel bag and started shoving lingerie into it. You picked up a pair of handcuffs and threw them aside. Rifling through your things didn’t help you find what you were looking for. You cursed out loud and sat down in your closet, leaning your head against the wall. 

“Must be in the other apartment.” you whispered, trying to recall where it was.

 By the time you made it back to the car with Lucas, he had fallen asleep. You tapped the window and apologized for taking so long.

  Lucas pulled up in front of your office building. He hadn’t asked why you brought a duffel bag, because after his nap, his attitude was so damn chipper that he couldn’t stop smiling. He leaned over the console to kiss you.

“You know what?” he said. “I’ll walk you inside.”

There was a panic in your chest. “No, baby, it’s okay.”

  He didn’t hear you. He was halfway out of the car. Lucas opened your door and held out his hand for the duffel bag. Reluctantly, you placed it in his hand and got out of the car.

“So, what time do you work until?” you asked, your eyes on the bag he was holding.

“Late day,” he said, taking your hand with his other. “I won’t be home until after dinner. Save me some?”

“Of course.”

  Normally, Lucas would lead you, but it was your place of work, so you did the leading. You opened the door and walked inside, your heels tapping against the marble. The woman at the front desk and the security guard both nodded at you at the same time before looking back to what they were doing. You guided Lucas to the elevator.

“Are you done the same time as always?” he asked. “I can send someone to pick you up.”

“No, that’s okay.” 

  You stepped into the elevator. You weren’t the only people in there. Luckily the office building was so big that you didn’t need to know everyone. He held your hand the entire ride, giving it a little squeeze. And every time he did, you were forced to look at him and smile.

“This is me.” you said, stepping out. 

  A glass wall separated the hallway from your offices, gold lettering etched on all of the doors. Lucas had never made it this far up, so his eyes were taking in everything like a greedy child.

“This looks expensive,” he said. “No wonder they pay you so well. Maybe I should quit and get a job here.”

  You laughed. It was obligatory. You leaned on your tip-toes and kissed Lucas at the same time you ripped the duffel bag from his hands.

“Call you during break?” you asked.

Lucas smiled. “Yeah,I’d like that. I love you. Have a good day.”

 You could tell he didn’t want to leave. He was too curious about what was behind the glass wall. He could see people milling about, stacks of papers in their hands. There were cubicles and privacy offices, a break room that was too high-tech for a plain office building. 

“I love you, too,” you said. “If you just go down to the ground floor I’m sure someone can help you find your way out.”

  You waited until the elevator doors closed to walk through the glass ones, crossing the threshold like you were walking into a new world. As soon as your heels stepped down into the grey carpet, you walked a little looser, your hips swinging. You did feel professional. And as eyes were on you in every corner of the room, you were the one person who knew exactly what men wanted.

  The office. You didn’t belong. Everyone could smell it on you, that new car smell that always seemed to drive right onto their floor and disrupt everything. For many of them, you were something they couldn’t afford. Oh, how they’d love to test drive you, though. As soon as they got a tasty look at you, all cream interior and buttered seats, all eyes seemed to avoid meeting yours. You sashayed across the floor in peace, your eyes scanning cubicles and the people coming and going.

“Hey.” a familiar voice called.

  You ducked down beside a cubicle. A woman sat in a chair, her long legs bare and freshly waxed. She crossed them and swiveled her chair to face you. You picked up a paper from the floor and shoved it in your pockets. 

“You’re early.” she said.

“Needed time to change.” you shrugged.

  You put your hand on her shoulder to lift yourself up and kept walking. No one stopped to talk to you, and there was something lonely in that feeling you couldn’t put your finger on. You stopped before a door, one of the only non-glass ones in the whole place. Your manicured fingers against the shiny door knob made you pause. You caught your reflection for the second time that day, the distorted figure grimacing back at you.

  You would never open the paper so brazenly in front of other people, but it was the calm breath you needed before you opened the door. It was what would launch you, truly, from this office into the next part of your journey. You opened the paper and stared at each letter burning a hole in your retinas. 

             Sweetie, I miss you. Today’s advice is to never look behind you.

  You tucked the paper in your bra. Every inch of you wanted to look behind you, but instead, you opened the door to the dark closet and changed your clothes.

  You stepped out of the closet dressed in clothes one would find in the mens department. Sweatpants that could be worn playing basketball, a grey sports t-shirt with faded writing, and a black windbreaker. Your sneakers were white with little worn marks on the side, and your hair was thrown underneath a ball cap. If anyone thought you were crazy for entering as yourself and exiting as someone socially male passing, they didn’t bat an eye. 

  Passing by the cubicle, the woman whistled. “If I didn’t know you, I would have you bend me over this desk right here.”

You smirked. “Only if you pay me enough.”

  You threw the duffle over your shoulder and kept walking, all of the confidence in the world in the way you moved. People still looked at you, but it was in a new, illuminated light. You walked through the glass and made it to the elevator. 

“Excuse me.” you said, weaving your way past a man.

“No problem.” he said, eyeing you up as he stepped out. He stared at you until the doors closed.

  In the lobby, you waved hello to the woman at the desk and the security guard. Both were unbothered by your new attire. You swung open the front door and stepped into the sunlight where a black, unmarked car was waiting for you.

“Am I too early?” you asked the driver.

“Right on time, miss.”

 He opened the car door and you slid in, the leather feeling cool, even through your sweatpants. In a fancy car like that, you felt underdressed, but it was all in the job description. He shut the door and went around to the drivers side, any chatty banter he may have started falling short of his lips.

You took out your cell phone and unlocked it.

  Unread text messages: 72   Unread emails: 212

You looked at the very last message from Lucas sent right after he left:

             I love you more and more every day. See you when I get home.

  Trees. That was all you saw. Streets with trees lining them, parks with the healthiest limbs and most luscious green leaves. They stood proud and strong, only wavering with a slight wind. Occasionally, when you were lost in thought, they played against the glass of the car window, a kiss of a leaf here and there, as if to say, “Welcome, open your eyes.”

“We’re almost there,” the driver said. “He asked that I don’t escort you inside. I expect you know your way around.”

  You nodded, making eye contact with the driver in the rearview mirror. He was judging you, you could tell. He wasn’t new, by any means, but the lifestyle took some getting used to. When you first met the driver, you were scared of what he  thought of you, but now you didn’t spare a single thought for him at all.

 The car came to a stop in front of a three-story brick building, its red face powerwashed to pristine condition. There were flower boxes on every windowsill and forest green shutters. A wreath on the door felt welcoming, but only if you were someone who liked open invitations. In the neighborhood, that might have been plausible, but only you really knew what lay beyond the oak front door, its stained glass windows more expensive than Lucas’ monthly rent.

“Thank you.” you told the driver.

  You stepped out of the car, your sneakers crushing a twig. It was the only blemish on an otherwise clean street. You closed the door behind you and held your duffel bag in your hand. The driver waited a beat before driving off, his strict time schedule unable to be rearranged if you chickened out.

 But you would never chicken out. Before you was a place you had been to many times. Anyone who looked out of their window would recognize you, even if the flavor of you didn’t sit well under their tongue. As you ascended the stairs, no one bothered to push aside their curtain for a glimpse of the girl dressed in baggy clothes, every trace of her from this morning vanished completely.

 You walked right in.

  You were met with a smell that hit you instantly: cinnamon. Candles burned on a foyer table, the wick barely black. 

Just lit, you thought. You have to be around here somewhere.

  The home inside was cozy, deep blue accents and unexplainable modern art tucked into corners of the room. It was the home of someone with an eye for the unusual, but whose very facade made one feel more comfortable with themselves. You walked further inside, your fingers touching along the walls. When you were away, you missed the smells terribly.

“Where are you hiding?” you asked. “Little kitten.”

  You walked further inside, your shoes still perfectly on your feet. At his request, he wanted you to keep them on. You never asked why, but you expected that after you left, he got on his hands and knees and scrubbed his floor after your every footprint, in his bid to serve you. 

“Don’t you miss me?” you asked.

  There were so many doorways without doors. You weaved in and out of rooms, taking your sweet time to make sure he could hear you trampling through. You touched some things softly, and others, haphazardly. You didn’t wince as a part of a measuring cup family fell from its hook, clattering to the ground loud enough to make your teeth hurt.

“Tenny,” you said. “Come and play.”

  You wandered up the stairs, your manicured fingers tapping against the wooden railing. You let the duffel fall to the ground when you made it to the top, and rubbed your shoulders.

  If the downstairs was grandmother chic, the upstairs looked like the hallway of a sex club.The walls were deep sapphire and velvet, gold tassels dividing each door. You walked down the center, looking foolish and out of place. On your right, you went in through the first door to an empty bedroom. You looked around but could find nothing. 

“This is taking too long,” you said. “What if I just leave?”

  A sound tipped you off. Your head snapped in the direction you heard it coming from: the very last door on the left. You walked towards it, stopping before it. You rubbed the wood, massaging it in your palm. 

“My little kitten.” you cooed.

  You opened the door to find him in plain sight. His arms were above his head, his wrists strapped to a mechanism chained to the ceiling. He was naked and blindfolded, and there were headphones around his ears so he couldn’t hear anything. You stepped in but didn’t close the door behind you. You stood in front of him, watching as he mouthed the words to a song. When you pulled the headphones down his neck, he gave a little shake.

“You were right under my nose the whole time.” you said.

  You walked around him. His joints looked like they were straining too much. He could hardly keep himself up right. And yet, he began to smile as you made your way back to him.

“How long have you been waiting?” you asked.

“An hour.” he said, his voice hoarse.

  You took off his blindfold and was met with the most mischievous eyes. He looked you up and down, his cock twitching right as he got to the sneakers on his carpet. You had been in the room before, so all of the sex toys and contraptions lining the walls didn’t bother you. People liked to play, and in your line of work, you would do whatever they wanted for the right amount. 

 His name was Ten. He was your age, but there was something about him that felt older than your years. His eyes were that of an old soul, his body young and supple. You scraped your fingernails against his chest and watched him close his eyes and quiver.

“Should I leave you here for another?” you asked.

He shook his head. “I need you to hold me.”

  Ten was one of your favorites. It wasn’t so much about the sex but the companionship. Sure, there were things he did and wanted you to do to him that were a bit different, but your attachment to him was hard to explain. 

“Before I hold you,” you began. “I need to know I can’t disappoint you.”

He opened his eyes. “I don’t think you ever could.”

“You put too much faith in me.” you said. 

  You reached up to unhook him from the ceiling. He whimpered in pain as his arms fell. You massaged his shoulders and brought him against your bosom. Ten’s hair tickled your chin. You were scared to tell him that you forgot his blanket, that it was in your real apartment with the life you hid from Lucas. 

 You wrapped your arms around Ten and kissed the top of his head. You owed him honesty, so you opened your mouth and told him that you forgot the thing he wanted most from you. Tears welled in his eyes, and for a second, you thought about breaking the arrangement and asking if he wanted his money back, but Ten took your hand and started leading you out into the hallway.

“We can do the comfort blanket next week,” he said. “This week, we’ll do something else.”

  Briefly, he showed you the man he was when you weren’t there. He was straightened up and assertive, his eyes more disobedient. It was rare that you were privy to how he was when you weren’t there, but it was always refreshing that somewhere underneath it all, there was something you liked to think of as a friend.

  Ten brought you to a room with only a bed in the middle of it. An island of sadness is what you always thought of it. You remembered when you had found him there sprawled on his stomach, his puckered, wet asshole waiting for you to fuck it. You did as he asked, the money too good to turn him down.

  Ten waited for you to get on the bed by yourself. Before you did, you made sure no hair was peaking out of your ball cap before you stretched your body across the sheets. Ten climbed in and tucked himself into the side of your body. He moved down so that his cheek was pressed against your stomach.

“Tell me you love me,” he said. “And that you’ll never leave me.”

You let your fingers smooth his hair. “I love you, Kitten, and I’m never going to leave you.”

  You fell asleep on the car ride home, the sound of thunder waking you up just a stop away from Lucas’ apartment. You groaned because, for once, your sleep was dreamless. It was too good of a thing to wake up from.

“Drop me off at the corner,” you said. “I don’t want anyone to see me.”

  You had ditched the clothes at Ten’s place and changed back into your pantsuit, but you had hat head and felt like your body had been run over by a truck. You cuddled with Ten for six hours in the same position, your body aching more than his was when he was chained up. You cracked your neck and got ready to jump out of the car as soon as it stopped, just in case someone in the neighborhood was nosy enough to tell Lucas.

“Thank you.” you said for the second time that day.

“See you next week.”

“Yeah.” you sighed.

  You got out and walked the last block to his apartment. The duffel was in your hands, but it was empty. If Lucas asked, it was once full of office supplies the company let you borrow that you needed to return. He would buy into the lie. 

 You let yourself into the darkness, removed your shoes like you were a zombie, and thought about collapsing right on the floor. It wasn’t even that late, but there was something about being deceiving that sucked the life out of you. Deciding against it, you walked your way to the bedroom and flipped on the light. 

 After you usually left Ten’s, you felt too soft to the touch. Some nights, you cried the whole car ride, missing something you didn’t know what you were missing. Often, you would climb into Lucas’ arms and make the most passionate love to him. You just needed to be near him, to make sure it was him who would never leave you.

  Everything looked the same as you had left it, only Lucas’ gym clothes were on the floor and one of his drawers was half hanging open. You went over to it and stuffed his shirts down so it would close properly. Your fingers lingered on the soft fabric. You brought his shirt up to your nose and buried your face in it, inhaling deeply. When you went to put it back, your hand knocked into a small jewelry box.

Uh-oh.

 You took the box out and opened it. A diamond ring sat nestled in black velvet, the name of the jewelry shop printed in silver script on the lid. Feeling dizzy, you snapped the lid shut and shoved it back where it was.

[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with MustangSally

MustangSally has 33 stories at Gossamer. Even if you haven’t read it, you’ve probably heard of at least one of them, Iolokus, since it’s an X-Files fanfic classic. All her fics hit big and are well worth your time. I’ve recced some of my favorites here before, including And Dance by the Light of the Moon, All the Children are Insane, and Iolokus. Big thanks to MustangSally for doing this interview.

What's the story behind your pen name?

I could tell you but then I would have to kill you.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

Yes and no. Yes, because life has moved on since the early nineties and the characters and the fans are in vastly different places now. Our current tech would make the premise of the X-Files impossible. No, because of the longevity of some of the Star Trek TOS work (there’s an archive of hard copy fanzines at the University of Iowa). Top-drawer authors started out in TOS fandom.

I’m just greatly saddened that my physical body is showing wear and tear while the fic doesn’t. Fic gets to stay smooth-skinned and muscular, captured at the peak of perfection.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

At the risk of sounding atrociously trite, I think of the friends I made.  I met some very remarkable women that I’ve been able to stay friends with online for over twenty-five years.  We may have moved to Facebook and post entirely too much about our pets and which of our body parts has sagged this week, but we’re friends.  It’s a furiously funny, feminist, and well-educated group of women with jobs in the highest levels of academia, finance, communications, and media.  I’m amused by the fact that if I have a question about how a virus replicates, I can ask a PhD I’ve been drunk with in Las Vegas.

Back in the day, I had a job that sent me traveling around major cities in the US and UK. I could post on a message board and within ten minutes there were people I could go out for dinner and drinks with. We already knew we had something we could talk about for at least a couple of hours. Additionally, most of these people were women so there was an added level of security. Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

Well, it was mostly atxc and the Yahoo! groups mailing lists that spiraled out into Geocities sites and, eventually, LiveJournal. The amusing thing is that getting in on the ground floor of social media and the Internet has helped me get jobs!  When I look at a new piece of software, I think, ‘this is hella easier than uploading to Geocities.’  We had to walk uphill both ways, in the snow, on dial-up, fighting off dinosaurs with our AOL CDs while writing HTML code. What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

DO NOT FEED THE TROLLS.

The past four years in politics have basically been the ugliest online kerfuffle the world has ever seen. I survived the Shipper Wars of ’96 and I thought those were brutal, but that was NOTHING. The only way to win an argument online is to not have the argument at all. Arguing with a troll is like mudwrestling a pig: You both get filthy and only the pig is happy.

Also, READ THE FUCKING TERMS OF SERVICE.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

I had the most terrible straight-girl crush on Scully. I wanted to be her best friend, I wanted to BE her.  I wanted to order Chinese food and paint each other’s nails and talk about bones.  Scully and Princess Leia and I could all just hang out poolside with hot and cold running waiters and poolboys, drink margaritas, and bitch about how unfair it all was – if the stupid men would just get OUT OF THE WAY AND LET US DO OUR JOBS, the world would be so much better. What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

This question is really about Iolokus, isn’t it?  You can’t fool me. [Lilydale note: I can neither confirm nor deny the motivation for this question, but I cannot complain about the answer.]

Simply put, I was enraged. The moment it was revealed that Scully’s ova had been used in experimentation, I lost my feminist mind. It was the most obscene defilement imaginable.  Scully wasn’t nearly as angry as I was.  What I thought needed to happen was for Scully to become a fiery force of vengeance against the MEN who had done this to her.  Clearly, I was not going to get that level of satisfaction from the show, as I was imagining Kali-like carnage on a global scale. I emailed RivkaT (whom I did not know well at that point) with a proposition that we work together. Strangely enough, we didn’t meet face to face until we were well into the project, but we did talk on the phone quite a bit. The rules were simple – everyone had to be punished in truly horrific ways, and at some point, we had to see if we could write a car chase (only because that seemed impossible).  Then it basically turned into a very twisted game of chicken to see who could be the most outrageous in terms of killing people off or writing really horrific things that fit within the structure of the narrative.  I did, in the end, write the car chase, but RivkaT one-upped me by throwing in a helicopter (a FOX News helicopter, at that).  

Really, RivkaT?  A helicopter? What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom? I am terribly proud of what I wrote, pleased that it brought pain and pleasure in equal amount to people, and, again, thrilled by the people I became friends with. I admit that I stopped watching the show when Scully announced her pregnancy.  I could only see a long jump over a shark tank for the rest of the series. I haven’t watched the new episodes, either.  It is complete in my mind and doesn’t need to be continued.  I wouldn’t say no to having a reunion with some of my fic friends, although we’re still chatting online like everyone does.   Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

Rivka and I wrote in the Buffy fandom for a few years, but then we moved on to real adult jobs that left absolutely no time for me to write. I’m in education, and I regularly sweat blood for fear that someone is going to find my old fic. The Buffy people were fun; there was a certain *shininess* to them that I really enjoyed. The X-men authors were just batshit and delightful, and some amazing stuff came out of Marvel fandom, particularly in the Thor/Loki and Steve/Bucky subgenres. I’ve learned to appreciate a good coffee shop AU and one famous Erik/Charles fic where all the main characters are crabs. Seriously, crabs—it’s hysterical. [Lilydale note: Other Crabs Cannot Be Trusted by groovyphilia currently has almost 2,500 kudos at AO3.]

Every few years, I’ll have a student try to explain to me what fandom is and I just smirk. Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully? No. Not really. Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom? I fell into an X-Men hole a few years back and had a great old time wallowing in the Cherik muck, and there was a flirtation with BBC Sherlock as well. Strangely enough, I became interested in A/B/O fics only because of what they were saying about the role of women in our society. The limitations on the male omegas seem absurd and then you realize those are the same limitations put on women all. the. time.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

RivkaT very nicely formatted everything and put it up on AO3. What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

I will always be stupidly proud of how shocked and horrified people were by Iolokus. The truth of the matter is that Iolokus has Greek drama at its core. Scully is Medea, and the entire story is lousy with “blood on the threshing floor” and Dionysian rites. The everyday is subverted into horror, and wives and daughters will tear men limb from limb like the Maenads. Since I was ultimately disappointed with what Chris Carter did with the entire show, that approach seemed appropriate.

At a certain level, all fic is corrective fic.  Like critic Anne Jamison said, “Irritated fans produce fanfic like irritated oysters produce pearls.”  And because fic has fallen so much into women’s sphere, a pure form of correction is not just the death of the author but the MURDER, a new creation springing up from the spilled blood like Cadmus sowing dragon’s teeth.

Okay, that’s a bit much. Maybe I should just take myself back to the isle of Goth Amazons or something. Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

I had to write a self-evaluation and a reflection on pedagogy today. If that’s not fiction, I don’t know what the fuck is.

All my creativity is caught up in trying to pretend to be a normal middle-aged white woman so no one knows I am really a lizard.

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

Keep writing, keep reading, keep fighting the commercialization of narratives. As things grow more and more commodified, all our dreams and desires reduced to tchotchkes made in China, it’s a revolutionary act to separate your work from the marketplace. Be bold, take chances, turn the trope on its ear and kick it in the ass. Take everything the creators have done to make a work palatable to the unwashed masses and set it on fire.

Be subversive.

Be mean.

Have a great fucking time.

(Posted by Lilydale on March 2, 2021)

[princesscandijane]

Males Reasons to Shave with some tips

A quick guide for those wanting to shave, but cannot seem to find the reasons to.  As well as some tips on how to shave.

Groin

As a favor for someone going down on you. Think about how much you enjoy pulling pubes out of your teeth. I shave my groin every morning, as part of my morning routine. Takes me no less time to shave my face if you do it daily, and I could probably go every other day without notice.

Shaving Groin

From various blogs and articles

Trim—Bust out your trimmer and prep the area by trimming off a good chunk of the bush before you dive in with a razor. This helps ensure that you have total visibility and don’t miss any important areas. Take your time, trimming in small sections starting at the bottom and working your way up to the stomach.

Shave—Generously apply shave cream that you can see through, creating a layer of cream about a millimeter thick on top of the areas where you want to shave. Holding the skin taut with one hand and taking it extra-slow with the other, lightly shave IN THE DIRECTION that the hair grows. Avoid using too much pressure. Rinse the razor with every pass and, when completely done shaving, rinse the body with warm water.

Use a new/sharp razor– DON’T use a dull blade or disposable razor.

Shave Your Balls—The golden rule of ball-shaving is to always hold the skin taut so there are no wrinkles or curves that could catch skin or cause cuts. 

Rinse with Cool Water—Make sure you give your junk a good rinse in cool water after you’re done shaving to soothe the skin and close the pores. This will also help prevent any ingrown hairs or irritation.

Asshole

Dingleberries. If you have ever had to wipe away a dingleberry, that should inspire you to at least trim around the asshole. Full shave can be difficult, but again, how attractive do you find a hairy ass? So consider trimming. I don’t shave completely because I’m worried about nicking something, so I wear a butt plug and shave around it.

Guide to Asshole shaving

https://www.reddit.com/r/NoStupidQuestions/comments/27dh1x/how_do_i_shave_my_asshole/

Use a moustache/nose hair trimmer to trim off all the excess hair until it's short enough to feel like 2 day old stubble, and then apply good hair conditioner or shaving gel and exfoliate using a loofah or washcloth. The idea is to get all the hair up and on end and stimulate the skin while opening the pores; this avoids ingrown hair and razor burn, which you do not want on your butthole.

Now wash your butthole. Intensely. You do not want to leave any stone unturned, so to speak. Shove your soapy finger up there and really get your sphincters squeaky clean. Don't hurt yourself, just make sure you don't have any icky fecal matter or tiny sharp hair nuggets trapped in the mysterious crevices of your anal caverns.

Use a BRAND NEW 4-blade disposable razor/razor blade cartridge. Don't use a dull blade or you will regret it. Shave with the grain, first, not against it. Rinse after each and every stroke of the blade against your skin. Re-apply conditioner/gel and shave again, this time against the grain and again be sure to rinse after every stroke. Rinse completely and then give it a quick wash with some plain antibacterial soap (kills bacteria on the open skin so should avoid irritation from fecal matter etc that you may have missed during your butthole cleansing).

Now comes the rough part - preventative care. Grab a bottle of witch hazel and spritz it on a washcloth, and pat the fuck out of your butthole with that shit. IT WILL BURN LIKE HELL FOR A SECOND IF YOU DO IT RIGHT. It is not the end of the world. Your butthole is not on fire and you will live to poo another day. After witch hazel-ing the hell out of your ass, lay tummy-down on your bed or on a towel on the floor and either:

When your butthole has been sufficiently aired out and dried, apply non-scented women's roll-on deodorant. This sounds stupid and weird but trust me, it helps. Dove no-scent is the best I've found. This will avoid chafing while walking, irritation as the hair grows back, general stink, and will provide you with some cushioning.

Chest, Back, Arms, Armpits

Do you think any of them are naturally smooth? Once a week I take a nice hot bath, relax with a bowl and shave everything below my neck. Takes me an hour at most.

I think we can acknowledge that a smooth body is sexy regardless of gender.  How weird would it be for there to be hair

Vs. how is this for hair?

Once a week shaving. The more often you keep up with it the easier it is and the less time it takes.

Shaving Chest Tips

various blogs

Before beginning to shave, be sure to trim any long chest hairs to make the process easier.

Apply plenty of shaving gel over your chest and any other areas that you intend to shave.

Begin shaving, using short, gentle, and slow strokes for a clean shave without any nicks or cuts.

After each stroke, rinse the blade to avoid getting it clogged and causing a messy shave.

Once you’ve completed shaving and removed all unwanted hair, rinse your chest thoroughly and apply an aftershave product, such as the one that you use for your face.

Remember to also exfoliate the area twice a week with a quality body scrub to reduce the risk of ingrown hairs.

As the nipple is really sensitive and may not want to risk a nik, I recommend using a tweezer. Before you tweeze, take a hot shower—the heat will open up hair follicles, so it’s easier to grab the root—and pat the skin around your nipples dry. Pull each strand quickly and firmly in the direction your hair grows.

Shaving Armpit

from Men’s Health

Trim Your Armpit Hair First

If you’ve never shaved your underarms before, chances are you’ll need to trim those patches down for the easiest and most comfortable shave . It’ll make less of a mess in the shower as well (because nothing is worse than a clogged drain full of man-hair).

Exfoliate Your Under Arms Before Shaving

Sure, you don’t have to exfoliate, but you should to avoid pesky, painful ingrown hairs. A loofah or exfoliating body scrub will do the trick to remove dead skin cells and bacteria (along with any deodorant gunk) to help you achieve the smoothest shave without razor burn.

Shave Your Armpits Wet in the Shower

You can cut it dry, but Whitely recommends to do it in the shower. Hot water softens the hair and reduces the risk of pulled hair or nicks, he says. Shave towards the end of your time in the shower and use shaving gel for added moisture to prevent irritation.

Shave Slow and With a Good Razor

It's not a race, folks. To avoid razor burn and skin irritation, take it slow with your razor blade to make sure you get the closest shave. Unlike the hair on your face, underarm hair grows in all different directions, so make sure to shave sideways, as well top-to-bottom. Toss your old dull razor, and opt for one with a sharp blade and a pivoting head to move with the curves of your armpits for a more effective, easier shave.

Legs 

First shaved legs feel amazing.  Everyone deserves to know the feeling of freshly shaved legs. Second how are hairy legs, feet, and toes sexy?

Quick guide to shaving legs

Taken from Glamor and Cosmopolitan 

1. Trim

If it's the first time you're removing your leg hair, you might want to carefully trim the area with an electric razor. This will stop your razor clogging up, causing you to miss patches of hair.

2. Soak your skin before shaving

“Hydrating the hairs makes them up to 60 per cent easier to cut”, says Dr Anita Sturnham, Venus Ambassador. “Soak your skin for two to three minutes before shaving.”

Use warm water when you're bent over the bathtub in the middle of winter with goose bumps on your legs, it's tempting to have the shower on boiling hot. But hot water is not your friend when it comes to shaving because it closes your pores. Warm water opens your pores, allowing your hairs to soften (making the whole shaving process a lot smoother).

3. Do not lather your legs with shampoo

Dr Sturnham says using shampoo or body wash as shave prep can, “increase your risk of redness and irritation, and blunt your razor blades.”

4. Don't go ham on the shaving cream

You really only need a thin layer of shaving cream to do the job. Too much will clog up your blades, slowing down your shaving time and making it impossible to see where you already shaved. Of course you don't really need to buy shaving cream in the first place, hair conditioner works just as well (if not better).

5. Always shave against the direction hair growth

To get your closest shave possible, shave against the direction of your hair growth. For the legs, start at the ankle and work your way up towards the knee.If you’re using a good blade, this won’t cause any irritation and will cut the hair right at the root for a longer-lasting shave.

6. Don't apply too much pressure to your razor

Your razor shouldn’t make a dent in your skin in order to work.“ The razor should glide across the skin, not drag”, says Adam Boulding, Venus Scientific Communications. “Remember to use a light touch, exerting as little pressure as possible.”If you need to press your razor firmly to work, it can be a sign your blades need changing.

7. Short strokes

If you're shaving from your ankle to your knee in one long stroke, you are guaranteed to have missed hairs. It's just impossible for your razor to keep contact with every single hair for that long. That's why you need to shave with short strokes. Short strokes = less missed hairs.

8. Change your razor blades regularly

A blunt blade not only increases friction against the skin, but also the likelihood of missed hairs. There are many factors that can impact blade life, including your hair type, how much of your body you’re shaving and how you store your razor.  Roughly every ten shaves. If you shave daily then about every 1-2 weeks, if you shave 2-3 times a day then every 3-4 weeks. You should also change your blades whenever you start to feel tugging or pulling during your shave.

9. Don't use razors with less than four blades

The number of blades you use is actually super important. The less blades you have, the higher the chance of cuts and nicks.

“A razor with more blades means that the pressure is distributed across more evenly”, says Boulding. “Therefore less pressure is applied to any one spot of skin during the shave, reducing the probability of cuts.”

10. Use a manoeuvrable razor head

The second thing to look for in terms of razor quality is the manoeuvrability of the razor head. When it comes to the backs of knees and areas like ankles, where the bone is close to the skin surface, you need a razor that moves with the curves of your skin to glide over trickier areas. A stagnant blade will only increase the chance of missed hairs or cuts.

11. Always bend a knee

Knees are notoriously the most tricky spot to shave. The solution? Sarah says to slightly bend the knee.

“This will pull the skin tight before shaving, as folded skin is difficult to shave.”

Try propping your leg up on the side of the bath.

12. Don't forget your aftercare

If you suffer from red bumps after shaving, rinsing properly is a must post-shave. If you can bare cold water, this is even better to ensure the pores are closed.

Sarah also recommends leaving the skin to rest for at least 30 minutes before applying lotions or moisturisers, to avoid inflammation.

“If you must moisturise immediately following shaving, select a cream formula rather than a lotion, and avoid exfoliating moisturisers that may contain alpha hydroxy acids,” she adds. If not, it will sting!