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kohakuarisaka · 2 years

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Subspace [chapter 9 of ?]

Takami Keigo x (fem!)Reader

[ SUMMARY ] Your dom let you drop, and Hawks picked you back up. It was an act of kindness; and yet, you couldn’t stop thinking about each other since, and what could be. Suddenly, your relationship with your boss became so deliciously improper.

[ WARNINGS ] R18+ for graphic sexual content and language. Dom!Hawks and Sub!reader. Female reader with female genitals. BDSM elements. Kink discussion. Aftercare. Consensual rough sex. Feral behavior. Wing kink and feather play. Consensual dirty talk and verbal abuse. Unprotected sex. Penis in vagina sex. Oral sex. Bondage & Shibari. Master/slave play. Biting/choking. Degradation. Vibrators & anal plugs.

Chapter 1 • Chapter 2 • Chapter 3 • Chapter 4 • Chapter 5 • Chapter 6 • Chapter 7 • Chapter 8 • future chapters coming soon~

Links: [ My BNHA Fanfic Masterlist on Tumblr ] ~ [ Also on my AO3 ]

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Some little voice in your head had warned you that this was getting too frequent, and you were going to get addicted at this rate; but, that didn't stop you from showing up at Hawks' apartment the following weekend when he asked if you wanted to.

As if he even had to ask anymore.

It had been raining gently on your way over, and even with a large umbrella, you were shivering from the cold with damp heels when you stepped inside Hawks' apartment.

He waited patiently for you to remove your shoes and prop your umbrella on the coat hook, along with your coat, before descending upon you with grabby hands. You laughed a little at his boldness, the noise gobbled up by a wet kiss.

His wings were fluffier today, and you wondered if it was his feathers reacting to the humidity from the rain. Even inside his apartment, the downpour could be heard tapping noisily against the large window looking out the balcony. The smell of rain wafted through the room, and made you wonder if he had enjoyed the view from the balcony before your arrival.

"I got you something," Hawks stated, ushering you to the bedroom.

A familiar song and dance, and you followed his lead eagerly.

Your eyes first spotted the collar resting on the bedsheets, just the same as the first time he introduced it to you. Something new was laid around it: a gown, maybe a blouse, if it could even be called that.

When you picked it up, you realized it was lingerie, made out of smooth silk, without a single thread out of place. The neckline was sweeping and the bottom hem was short. A tie at the mid-point seemed to be the only thing that would keep it on.

It was more of an accessory, really, and hardly counted as clothes, the shade of red much the same as his wings, as the collar. It would feel nice on your skin and look pretty on you, most definitely. But, it would leave nothing to the imagination. There was something undeniably possessive about it, not that you could find yourself to mind.

When you set the outfit down and turned to face Hawks, you were met with an excited, albeit nervous expression. His back was straight, head high, wings stretched out. He looked ready to go out for a jog in the loose pants and T-shirt, black socks on his feet. Yet, despite the casual getup, he had a heavy look in his eyes.

"Do you like it?" he asked carefully.

"It feels really nice," you answered softly.

"Do you want to wear it for me?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," you answered immediately.

Hawks swallowed, gold eyes heavy with lust despite the obvious concern brewing underneath.

Clearly, there was more he wanted than just for you to wear this: a game, an act. Whatever it was had him looking like he wasn't allowed to ask. His eyes were distant and glossy, excited but nervous.

You reached for his hand and smiled when Hawks reciprocated with a soft grip. He stepped in closer, wings opening and closing behind him. He kissed at your temple, and you sighed at the contact.

"Tonight...?" you hummed encouragingly.

"Tonight..." Hawks began, his voice hoarse, but sweet, like thick, raw honey. You peered up and caught the sight of his throat shift as he swallowed. Really, his hesitance was endearing, and you doubted you'd ever get tired of it.

"I want you to be my assistant, in scene," he explained softly.

You blinked up at him.

Oh.

Oh-

So, that was how he wanted to play tonight.

There was no teasing grin on his face, only hunger and patience in his eyes, lips pressed thin.

You knew that you were blushing at the broad implication, and it had done well to fill your mind with dirty thoughts. You knew that you weren't supposed to mingle work with play; but, there was no way you could resist something so deliciously improper.

Hawks was quiet for a moment, waiting for some protest from you, giving you an opportunity to tell him no. He seemed to grow more confident when it never came.

His free hand came up and a thumb trailed your bottom lip. "I have some things I need to take care of today, and I need your help," he explained quietly.

There was something in his tone, expressing that he was well aware of the line he was walking. It was right on the edge of what you agreed was okay. He seemed almost afraid that his fantasy was going to push you away.

It was quite the opposite.

"You can do that for me, can't you?" he asked softly, sweet, but bold, like he already knew the answer.

"Yes, sir," you answered solidly.

Some of that fear washed away from Hawks' face. He squeezed your hand before carefully letting go.

"Put on your uniform," he instructed quietly, firmly.

He disappeared behind you; but, you could hear him sit down in the armchair, the fabric squeaking softly as he plopped down. You could feel the heat of his eyes staring as you undressed.

It felt good, his eyes on your bare form. Even if he didn't say anything, even if you couldn't see his face, you could feel the radiating want. You felt beautiful and powerful.

You slid your arms through the silk gown, pleased by how warm it felt against your chilled skin. You moved the ties over the front to cinch the material at the waist and moved it around to the back to tie a bow at the curve of your back.

Sure enough, nothing was kept to the imagination. The front flowed open, leaving your breasts on full display, and the bottom hem stopped right above your crotch. There was no way to angle it to cover anything, and that left you feeling more exposed than if you were properly nude.

You picked up the collar, and briefly considered putting it on yourself.

Hawks didn't give you the chance to try, calling out to you, "come here."

He didn't sound particularly pleased by your display, and the cold look on his face added to that illusion. However, as you approached him, the obvious tent in the front of his pants betrayed that.

The hem of his shirt was bunched up a little, exposing a thin line of pale skin. His arms were propped up on his lap, and you could count the scars on his forearms.

He looked immaculate.

Hawks pointed at the ground, between his feet, and you obediently sank down. You crawled forward on your knees until you were touching the armchair, between his spread legs.

"What's your color?" he asked as his hands carefully took the collar from your hand.

Automatically, your head tilted back to give him room to wrap the collar around your neck. He adjusted the tightness diligently, until it was comfortable: loose enough to not be imposing, tight enough to not dig into you clavicles.

"Green," you breathed.

"What I'm gonna ask of you tonight, promise me, if you don't like it, you'll use your colors?" he uttered, dragging his knuckles affectionately across your jaw and up your cheek.

"I will," you promised, eyes fluttering open to look up at him.

The serious look on his face was in stark contrast to the soft words he had spoken to you.

"Do you know what I need you to do?" Hawks uttered, spreading his legs a little and leaning back in the armchair until he was slouching.

His posture did well enough to shift attention to his need tenting his pants.

As ridiculous and inappropriate as this was, you had fantasized about something similar before, and wasn't the least bit perturbed by the suggestion.

"Of course, sir," you cooed, reaching for the hem of his pants.

No underwear, of course, and his cock bobbed free with some pulling on his trousers. He wasn't just hard, he was swollen and throbbing, the head a delicious purple tint that begged for attention.

You lapped at the tip with a curious tongue before drawing it in your mouth. Spurred on by the weight of him, you bobbed your head, dragging your tongue along the thick vein on the underside, wetting his length thoroughly.

You sank up and down a few times, confident this was what he expected, but-

"Be still," Hawks commanded suddenly.

You froze up, wondering if you had done something wrong. A panic shot through you; but, then, a hand gently curled over your head, fingers brushing through your hair briefly before going still. You felt the weight of his palm, not pushing, just resting.

"That's it," he cooed.

Oh.

So, that was what you were supposed to be doing.

You exhaled harshly through your nose, sending fluttering breath across his tummy. This was new, not just for him, but for you, as well. You dragged your knees in a little closer to the chair and fixed your posture while trying to keep your head still.

His cock throbbed against your tongue, likely in tandem with his heartbeat. You tried to ignore it, and was clueless as to how he managed. He was almost unbearably warm and damn near throbbing, but hardly seemed perturbed by you sitting still. In fact, he only relaxed further; his stiff legs relaxed, stretching out beside you, and his posture sank back a little deeper in the chair.

His non-dominant hand remained perched on your head and you heard paper crinkling in his other. At this angle, you could only see the fabric of his shirt, and a small expansion of skin exposed from disturbing his pants: the cream color of his skin and pale blonde hairs dusting his crotch.

"You're doing so good," he whispered sweetly, briefly moving his fingers over your scalp soothingly, before going still again.

How demeaning, not that it was particularly worse than anything you had done thus far with Hawks. It was servicing - dirty, dirty servicing - and you were taking up the role of his assistant in this scenario, as if that wasn't the real relationship you had outside this room.

Still, there was something about it that thrilled you.

You let your imagination sweep you out of his bedroom and into his office, where he was wearing his hero uniform and you were hiding beneath his desk, and this was some sort of fantastical thing that helped him focus.

Hawks apparently had the same thing in mind, for a vibration suddenly set off, startling you.

He shifted a little, and you heard a click, before he hummed, "yeah?"

-and then you realized, it was his cell phone, and he had answered it.

The distant voice yelling at you that this was inappropriate was drowned out by the arousal beating like a drum in your ears. You could hear the muffled sound of someone else talking and tried to focus less on his responses and more on the weight of his cock in your mouth.

That was the job he had assigned to you, after all, and his hand was still absent-mindedly resting on top of your head. The worst of it was how professional Hawks sounded, like he didn't have a woman between his legs.

The mental image of how debauched you looked had you moaning quietly. Even if it was quiet enough to not be heard, he definitely felt it.

A short time later, the call ended with a beep and you heard a quiet thump as Hawks roughly set his phone down on the side table.

"Be quiet," he uttered darkly, "and don't even think about touching yourself. Keep your hands on me."

You wanted to moan again, mainly to voice approval to his words. Instead, you shifted your hands onto his thighs and gave a gentle, assuring squeeze. Hawks sighed, and you took that as a sign that he understood your feelings.

The minutes dragged on, and Hawks played with your hair absent-mindedly. On occasion, his hand shifted so he could drag his thumb against your cheek and feel the thickness of his shaft beneath your gummy flesh.

You had little doubts that he knew exactly what he was doing. His hand would rest limply atop your head as if he could care less that you were cockwarming him, only to play with your hair or caress your cheek just when he thought you needed some attention.

The passage of time was lost on you before suddenly, Hawks carelessly dropped whatever he was holding, letting it crinkle noisily to the floor, cupped your jaw, and slid you off his cock.

He patted his lap, grunting, "come here."

You obeyed, despite the odd gnawing feeling that you shouldn't stop yet. You crawled up onto his lap from the floor, eyes glossy with lust. He hooked an arm behind your lower back and tugged you in close, careless to his wet erection pinned between your bodies.

"You did good," he praised, using his freehand to poke two fingers into your mouth.

He rolled his digits over your tongue, eyes soaking up the lewd expression you were forced to make as a result of said action forcing your mouth open and tongue out.

"I knew you'd be a great cockwarmer when I hired you," he continued in a harsh whisper.

You moaned shamelessly at the praise.

"Such a cute little mouth, and it's all mine. Yeah?"

You hummed agreeingly and Hawks smirked like the devil.

His fingers slipped free from your lips, and you barely worked out a dry gasp before his tongue was replacing them. You kissed him back fiercely, trying to draw his tongue in deeper whilst your hands grabbed fistfuls of his T-shirt.

He was practically choking you with the wet appendage, shoving it in as deep as he could get it, pressing along your teeth and gums, and you were pulling him in closer, clawing at his shoulders until your chests were painfully smooshed together.

Hawks' wet hand curled beneath your collar and wrapped around your neck, steadily tightening its squeeze until you whimpered, and then he finally loosened, just enough to let you breathe.

You were oblivious to how much you had drooled on him until Hawks pulled back and you got a good look at the saliva coating his chin. Oh, but you were too lost to be embarrassed, drowning in his delicious taste and the ravenous gaze he was smothering you with.

He stared you down darkly, the gold of his eyes practically devouring his narrow pupils. His wings were draped over the back of the armchair and flopped against the wall.

He released your neck with a grunt and command, "get back to work."

You hurt your knees from how hard you dropped yourself back to the floor. Hawks didn't laugh at your expense, but grunted halfheartedly, as if it was the thing he expected you to do. You took him as deep as you could before gagging and was forced to pull back a bit.

"Fuck-" he groaned, sinking back into the chair and struggling to resist the urge to lift his hips.

"Just like that... Yeah. Good girl."

His sweet words echoed loudly in your ears, easily keeping you deep in this headspace. He smelt good, like body wash and something uniquely his own. His taste was as addicting as the feeling of his weight against your tongue. You wanted his hand to pat your head and to hear more of his praise.

As if hearing those wants, a hand smoothed your hair out of your face. But, it was a brief touch, before pulling away. You couldn't tell what was occupying his hands; you just knew that you were jealous they weren't on you.

But, your boss was a busy man, and you had to be patient.

The minutes dragged on, and Hawks fumbled with something above you, one hand occasionally leaving to pat your head condescendingly when the desire took him.

You focused on the sounds around you, eyes shut peacefully, and realized it was still raining. The sound wasn't deafening, but growing louder than when you had started, an insisting tapping against the glass as harsh winds blew about.

His phone rang again, and as he began talking, you wondered if this was a conversation you were supposed to be listening in on. He addressed the person on the other end, someone whom you had met several times over the past couple years, a busybody from the hero commission.

Oh, how much trouble would he be in if they knew what he was doing right now? Of course, you didn't want anything bad to happen to Hawks; but, the absurdity of it all had your heartbeat thundering in your ears.

The phone call ended and Hawks carelessly dropped the device before roughly pulling you off him by your jaw.

Slack jawed and startled, a string of saliva carried between your lips and his cock. He forced your head up to make eye contact, and the look Hawks gave you drew a whimper from your throat.

"Get on the fucking bed," he growled before letting go of your face.

You reeled away from him and forced yourself onto your feet, wobbling like a child. You turned away from him to head for the bed; but, suddenly, his hand was curled around your inner elbow and yanking you back onto his lap.

He was so strong, and didn't hold back any of that strength, effortlessly forcing you into him. Your back hit his chest with a startled yelp, even drawing a grunt from the winged hero.

However, Hawks didn't hold you down. He laughed, a low, evil rumble in his chest, and watched you fumble to stand back up. You pulled away from him fiercely this time, expecting him to pull you back again.

Instead, Hawks stood up, and began a predatory approach. You cried out in surprise, for he was on his feet and heading towards you before you had managed to make it to the bed.

It was silly, but your thoughts provided you with panic: he told you to get on the bed and he was approaching, but you weren't ready yet-

You flopped back on the bed, heels pushing against the sheets as you tried to shove yourself to the center. Your hair was a mess over your face and you were panting wildly, staring up at the dangerous look on his face.

A feather slipped away, making for the light switch. The room was cast into darkness, but not for long before a lamp at the bedside table lit up, casting a dull, orange light over you and the bed frame.

You could make out the gold of Hawks' eyes through the darkness, the curve of his wings up high, the moonlight creeping in through the window, and not much else.

Hands clawed up your thighs and spread your legs. He gripped harshly at your skin, as if he didn't care that he might hurt you. You weren't sure what to expect, but was still startled when he manhandled onto your front.

A hand grabbed at the back of your neck to force your face into the sheets. He didn't hold you down long enough to make you panic, just enough to remind you of your place. His hand pulled back, and his grip on your hair forced your head up.

"You've been good. Show me how bad you want your reward," he uttered darkly before letting go of your hair.

With a whimper, you pulled up on your knees, arched your back, spread your thighs a little, laid your cheek on the sheets, and hoped you looked good.

You heard and felt Hawks' wings beat the air with an excited 'fwap' before his tongue invaded your folds. You screamed, shaking beneath the sudden onslaught. Even if you dared to try, there was no way you could pull away. His hands were gripping your thighs, holding them open.

His lapping tongue had you mewling and shaking, hands clawing at the bed sheets as if seeking stability. But, then, suddenly, he was pulling back, and rising up on his knees behind you on the bed.

Delirious, you arched into him, presenting yourself like a bitch in heat with the hope he would shove his cock inside you. You didn't care if you got punished; you were ready to beg and cry for it.

Something slid inside you.

Or, more accurately, he pushed something inside you; but, it was far too cold to be his cock, too bumpy along the shaft. Once it reached the base, something folded over your clit to hold the toy in place.

You let out a weak huff as Hawks stood up and stepped around the bed to the other side, where he could look down at your face. You peered up at him through your lashes and began leaning up onto your hands.

Before you could get up to look at him properly, the toy flipped on. Everything was vibrating: the thick shaft pushing against your gooey insides, the rough exterior folded over your sloppy, wet clit, and the head nuzzled right up against your sweet spot.

You slipped off your hands, falling face first in the sheets with a pathetic squeal. You writhed at the pleasure, finding it impossible to keep your hips still. You probably looked ridiculous, unable to pull away, and simultaneously arching into the touch.

Hawks was in front of you on the bed, on his knees and watching you tremble and cry in pleasure.

He had fixed his pants, and the positioning brought his cock to eye-level, leading you to wonder if he wanted to be serviced. Of course, the sober part of your mind knew better. He had called this a reward, after all, and Hawks rarely put his own pleasure first.

The truth was that you wanted to please him.

You reached for out and palmed at his erection, mystified by how hard he felt. Hawks made a displeased clicking sound, and let you struggle for a little bit before he carefully grabbed your wrist.

"You slutty little thing," he chastised. "Haven't you had enough?"

Hawks gathered your wrists in one hand and hoisted your arms up. You cried out as he forced your body up, until you were on your knees in front of him.

You stared at his face with wild eyes, mystified by the beautiful gold hue of his iris. He looked angry, annoyed even, but aroused, and the sight made your knees tremble.

"Don't you fucking move," he snarled, squeezing at the skin of your wrists in warning.

His head ducked down, eyes disappearing from sight, and his fluffy hair took up most of your field of view. You could see his wings over his shoulders, draped elegantly behind him.

Teeth nibbled their way down your chest while his hand continued to hold your arms up, forcing an unnatural arch. The toy was still vibrating, though this new angle gave you just a bit of relief; or, maybe, the pain from his manhandling was distracting.

-and, then, there was his teeth.

He bit along the center of your chest before moving to the swell of your breast, leaving blossoming, red marks behind. He was kinder to your nipple, suckling it gently for a brief moment before letting go with an obnoxious pop.

When he seemed satisfied, he collapsed on the bed and dragged you on top of him. He was still holding your wrists and your legs were tangled awkwardly, but the feel of his body beneath yours was a wanted sensation. You could feel the contours of his muscles, the warmth of his skin beneath the layers.

"All you needed was a little bit of whipping to make you nice and docile," he teased darkly, exhaling hot air against the shell of your ear. "A firm hand and some promises, yeah?"

His hands released your wrists and you flopped over him uselessly.

"Now, hump me until you come," he added on, whispering harshly against your skin.

You barely had a second to contemplate that command before his hand fumbled with something on the bed sheets: a remote, most likely, for the intensity of the vibrations was suddenly increased.

It wasn't a conscious effort. You couldn't stop it even if you tried.

Hawks got what he wanted; you writhed above him, hips undulating and legs trembling, hands grabbing weakly at his shoulders, the bedding. You cried like a wounded animal, bucking against him uncontrollably. Hawks stared up at you with an evil look on his face, enjoying every second of it.

At some point, it became clear to you that you were shaking against his thigh while his erection pressed against your tummy. You gave in to the pleasure, sitting up on your knees and pressing down against his leg until the base of the toy was pushed deeper into you.

Through the garbled noises you made, you somehow managed to warn him, "I'm coming-!"

Hawks flattened one hand against your lower back, holding you tight against him, while his other hand reached beneath the hem of his pants.

You wanted to see pleasure dance across his face, but couldn't keep your eyes open. His moan was loud and burned where he exhaled it against your ear. If anything, it made your own trembling even more intense.

Your cries of pleasure followed. From your shaking, you nearly headbutted the hero. If he noticed, he didn't care. Hawks leaned into you, basking in the moment greedily as you undulated with pleasure.

As the intensity began to wind down, Hawks pressed kisses into your throat. He turned the toy off and, for a moment, everything was breathing: you, panting above him wildly, body shifting from the rise and fall of Hawks' chest beneath you as he too inhaled and exhaled deeply. His breath fluttered harshly over your skin and his chin hairs tickled your neck.

Eventually, you calmed down, and registered the wetness across your stomach. There was a snap of elastic as Hawks pulled his hand free. He dragged his fingers over the mess along your skin, and you could feel the grin he was pressing into your neck.

"Oops."

You couldn't help but laugh, just a little, which was likely his desired response anyway. The laughter stopped when Hawks carefully rolled you onto your back.

"Don't move. Let me clean you up," he requested as he leaned up, rising to his feet.

His feet tapped quietly on the floor as he walked away. You laid there, eyeing the window, watching water droplets splay across the glass until he returned.

Hawks removed the toy slowly before cleaning his spent off your skin with a wet washcloth. He disappeared again for a short minute, returning with a bottle of something. He rolled you onto your stomach, laughing when you squealed in surprise.

"It doesn't hurt anymore," you hummed as he began massaging lotion into the parts of your skin he had so thoroughly bruised last weekend.

The marks were no longer bright red, but a dull burgundy by now. The deepest parts, that had once been purple, were now a faded pink. His placements were immaculate: parts that would heal quickly.

"That's a shame," he replied hoarsely.

You sank down into the sheets, oddly pleased by his response.

Once you were fully healed, would he do it again? Likely, that was exactly what he was contemplating.

"Do you want to stay?" Hawks asked some time later, depositing the lotion bottle to the side table.

You rolled over to watch him pull his shirt and pants off. You had seen him nude multiple times by now, and had even placed your mouth on his sex. Still, you couldn't help but stare: at the muscles, at the scars, at the tan lines and bruises, at the blonde hairs and freckles dusting his skin.

"Are you sure that's okay?" you asked, leaning up to remove the lingerie.

Hawks reached you before you could even undo the tie. His hands gently pushed yours aside and took over. He carefully slid the fabric off and carelessly pushed it onto the floor before doing the same with your collar, letting it hit the end table with a 'thump'.

"Last week was an acci-"

Hawks interrupted you gently, "I want to check on your bruises in the morning. They... shouldn't be this red still."

You were fully capable of checking on your own bruises, not a whelp by any means, and you didn't really believe his statement, nor did Hawks sound very convincing. But, you wanted to stay, and decided to let him get away with it this time.

"Okay," you agreed softly.

Hawks came over you as you nuzzled into the sheets. You let out a confused noise, only to realize he was reaching for the lamp resting on the end table. He flipped the switch, casting the room into darkness.

You felt him move over you, slotting back onto his side. Only, his arm hooked on your waist and tugged you into him as he rolled back. You followed limply, releasing a soft noise when your back hit his chest.

"Thanks for indulging me," he uttered.

"I've-... fantasized about that, too," you replied nervously.

Hawks exhaled through his nose, sharp and sudden. You didn't ponder if that was a bad sound, for he immediately huffed out a weak laugh.

"Damn," he whispered hoarsely.

"What?" you huffed at him, sounding offended. Maybe you were, just a little bit.

"Just - you thinking about me like that," he answered gruffly. "That's dangerous. I won't be able to concentrate at the office."

"You barely concentrate now," you replied with some bite.

Hawks coughed out a laugh. He shuffled around, leaning up, and you turned your head to try and look at him through the darkness.

"I need some ice for that burn," he explained.

You laughed, calling his bluff, and Hawks slid back beneath the blanket and nuzzled up against your back. He was quiet for some time, leaving the room a buzz of the rain's downpour.

But, then, he uttered, "if I pushed too hard-"

"You didn't," you interrupted him sharply. "I liked it."

He was quiet after that, and you drifted away shortly after.

#hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #hawks x you #keigo takami x you

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writingsbychlo · 4 years

Text

put her together again (06)

word count; 6299

summary; mitch goes to a therapy session, and hates what happens to you whilst he’s there, and hates himself even more for the role he plays in it.

notes; y’all, I gotta make one thing clear - I know irene comes off really awful, but think about how much she’s got to sacrifice to be able to save all the others.

warnings; anxiety attacks, and references to the following; child abuse, electrocution, imprisonment, stealing, and violence.

Mitch wasn’t sure what he had been expecting you to be like before a therapy session, but it wasn’t like this. Then again, this wasn’t your usual therapy session.

You were on edge, that much he could tell, but it wasn’t on edge in a way that he was used to. He’d seen you in many moods, all the way from the very first time that he’d met you as you’d been coming at him with a gun and a pocket knife, and a look in your eyes that read ‘no mercy’. He had seen fear in your eyes before, on the nights when you’d awoken in a fit of screams and tears, thrashing as your legs were tangled in your blankets until you’d rolled from the mattress so violently you’d hit the floor with a loud thud and he’d been rushing in to pick up the pieces and put you back together before morning.

He’d seen you upset, both in the ways you let it out, tears in your eyes and a cracking voice when you’d been taken back to your parent’s house, the realisation and resurfacing of who you were being prominent in your mind. He’d also seen the version upset when you tried to hide it, when you’d been told that you were being moved out to your own place, even though you’d voiced how you didn’t want to leave him, or the betrayed look on your face when he’d been able to return after an entire week, leaving you to think for a whole seven days that he’d abandoned you.

Mitch had even seen you angry, in the way that was utterly terrifying as you sat with clenched fists until you’d cut crescent-moon shaped marks into your palms as the furrow between your eyebrows created trenches, moody and snappy on days when your drawings wouldn't come out quite right with the way you were picturing things in your head, or the when you would slip up in the way you regressed to yourself, when your progress took a tiny step backwards for all the steps forwards you took when you were tired.

This was nothing like any of those moments, though.

This was chilling. It was calm and collected but unsettling quiet. It was a simple breakfast, with no music or dancing, and only the sounds of cutlery and tinkering pots and pans to break the tension, occasionally muttering underneath your breath. He was sure you could hear the grinding of his teeth as he listened to you remind yourself of who you were. Your name, your address, his name, your birthday, the gym you went to, your coffee order. Everything that made you who you were, making sure it was kept at the front of your mind, that nothing was slipping, and he absolutely hated that such a thing wasn’t something you got to take for granted like he did, that you lived every day in fear that it would all go away, slip from your grasp and slip from your life.

He ate his food quietly, choking back the urge to speak up or reach out, to offer you comfort and reassurances, because he knew just how badly you needed to stick to your routines, just how much they meant to you, and therefore, he knew that interrupting you and messing them up for the slightly selfish actions just to put his own churning stomach at ease could have disastrous results on your anxiety, and your fragile mindset.

He watched as you slipped away, taking his plate when he was done and offering him a small flick of the lips upwards, but you had barely met his eye at all this morning, and he could count the total words you’d spoken to him since waking on his fingers, and he figured he was already disrupting your rituals before your cognitive hypnotherapy sessions just by being here, but that he couldn't compromise on. He had to see it, he had to know that Irene was looking after you, that you were being cared for the way he would, that they weren’t using you as a source of information and draining you down more than you could handle, sapping you of all energy until you were just a hollow and broken shell. Not when he’d worked so hard to save you, and helped you to build that life that you so truly deserved.

With dishes washed and left out to dry, you slipped away without a word, your back to him as you wandered down the corridor to the bathroom, the door clicking shut, and a second later, the water heater had been humming lowly inside of the cupboard and the sound of water thrashing against the bottom of the tub, disrupted by your body joining the mix. He was left alone, to wander your bedroom and find some of his clothes, dumping the spare ones in your laundry hamper and knowing that you’d keep them and wash them, and he’d find them in the exact same drawer the next time he came over.

You were wrapped in a robe when you emerged, a little startled as the two of you met in the doorway, but for the first time that morning, you offered him the same kind of affections that he was used to. Your shoulders sagged, stiff tension dropping away for just a second, before you were slipping your eyes shut, leaning in enough to bump your forehead to his shoulder, twisting your head to rest your cheek in its place, and he could feel your short puffs of breath against his skin.

“I’m sorry.”

He wrapped an arm around you, squeezing tightly enough that you sighed out against him, your body slumping into him a little further.

“These mornings are always weird, it just puts me on edge. I’m not purposefully shutting you out.”

Turning to rest his chin atop your head, Mitch let his own breath go slowly, fingers running over your arm lightly. “I know that, and I understand it. You don’t have to apologise.” You only nodded in response, your hand coming up to sit on his waist, fingers curling in the material of his top as you allowed yourself a final moment to cling to him, to forget where you were going and what you were doing for a few seconds more, and when you shifted a little, he loosened his grip, chuckling as you hesitated in your movements. “You should get ready, Irene will be here soon.”

You backed away, closing the door as he left to have your privacy, and once again, he was shut out from you as you slipped back into your tightly locked state, protecting yourself against your circumstances. He busied himself, little jobs he knew you would’ve done yourself later but he could help you with now, putting away your dishes and plates and making sure everything as neat and tidy, the perfect way for you to come home to after you were shaken up from having someone digging through in your mind and shifting through your every memory and thought for the information they wanted, discarding what they didn’t as though it didn’t matter, like it wasn’t something just as vital in what made you who you are.

Drawers opened and closed, the creaking of floorboards as you wandered around, before the humming of a hairdryer was taking up, soothing enough to him with the ticks and shakes it made for him to use it to steady his own heart rate. This morning - this day - was all about you, he was just here to support you, but the few moments of singular reprieve he got to calm his own nerves and try to get past his own anxiety was more than eagerly welcomed, needing to collect himself so that he could be the strong one between you both today.

There was a soft knocking at the door, and he smirked a little, wandering over and taking his time in undoing the locks, before he was opening it up and offering an openly fake smile to the woman before him, who fixed him with a scowl in response. “You’re here.”

“I said I would be. Eight sharp, yes?”

“Shame. I was rather hoping we’d get to leave you behind.” He scowled at her then, being sure not to move out of the doorway to invite her inside as he reached for his shoes, a hand on either side of the doorframe to tug on his shoes, before his coat was following and he was sticking his arms out in jerky movements to pull the sleeves up, blocking her from stepping into the apartment as she huffed. He knew he was being childish, but the glare she gave him upon having no further actions or responses was more than enough to justify it, in his opinion.

They were locked in an intense stare-down when you finally emerged, clearing your throat, entirely unaware of the aggressive anger between the two, and you were pulling a warm coat up your arms. A pair of his sweatpants and a simple top, a knitted cardigan with black speckles in cream-coloured wool was sitting on your body, before you were slipping on your shoes, staring at them both expectantly.

“I’m ready. We can go.”

“Great, Mitch can take his own car.” It was a more chipper voice than he had ever heard from Irene, and he scoffed as he watched you lock the front door, a hand on your lower back as he guided you along, choking down the lump in his throat as he picked up the shake in your body as your nerves got the best of you.

“We have another, today?” The therapist jutted her chin out in Mitch’s direction, despite her gaze being locked with Irene’s, his superior only giving a curt nod, and you were lingering in the doorway, picking at the loose threads of your cardigan. “Come on in, (Y/N). Sit yourself down.” She was friendly enough, and you seemed to accept her words as such, shuffling your way over to the couch after hanging up your coat, and you settled down in the middle, laying out one of the pillows to lay downwards instead, and reaching out across the wooden surface to pour yourself a glass of water. “What about our guest?”

She turned to him now, and he cleared his throat, smiling politely as he offered her his hand, his name following, and she shook it gently, before his boss was making her presence known once again. “Rapp is here to observe, he won’t be interfering.”

It was like one of those times your parent inadvertently spoke to you while pretending to be polite in front of others, and he felt like he was being chastised by his mother for being loud and obnoxious in public, the woman nodding her head towards one of the chairs in the corner that he could sit on. You were sipping on your drink, eyes following the every movement of ‘Doctor Lindsay’ as she sat across from you, legs crossed as she leaned forwards, everything about her body language being relaxed and soothing as you sipped at your drink.

“Are you ready to begin?”

Your eyes flicked up to his, not looking for permission or support, simply as though you’d almost forgotten he was there, shocked a little by his presence, and the silence in the room felt stifling, before you cleared your throat. “I’m ready.”

“You remember all of the questions, and the routine we’ll be going through?”

“Yes, Doctor Lindsay, I remember.” Your voice was steady, emotionless once again, and a shudder went along his spine. Your eyes seemed duller, your lips in a neutral frown, and he felt like he was meeting you for the first time all over again. Crossing his arms over his chest in a protective manner, Irene leaned over the back of the couch as you lay yourself down, head propped on the pillow you’d laid out and legs stretched out all the way to the end.

“I want you to listen to my voice. Just my voice, okay?” You let out a slow breath, and Mitch found himself copying your movements, exhaling slowly in a mimic of what you’d done, and the rigidity of his muscles gave way a little. “I want you to focus on your breathing, and on your heart rate. Slow, in and out, as slow as you can go. Let it all go. Focus on your heartbeat.”

You licked at your lips, taking a final deep breath, and holding it in your lungs, and he could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his eyes, clenching his eyes shut as he tried to clear his mind, shaking it all away and bringing himself back to consciousness as her soothing voice and simple commands began to get him to slip into a haze place as well. She had an iPad out, bringing up a simple panel of controls, before the lights in the room were dimming considerably, and the hum of the heaters came to a stop, air conditioning taking its place, and the one above his head sent a sudden wave of cold chill into the darkened room. The blinds were closed now, so far that he had to squint to still see you, and he muffled the yawn he wanted to release, wrapping his arms tighter around himself as the temperature within the room dropped.

“Unit eight. State your location.”

He felt bile rise in his throat, the cool and commanding tone to your voice, and your entire body suddenly locked up, that tranquil calmness you’d gained while studying your own heartbeat was gone, your hands forming fists by your side and your body going stiff, and he could see the last bits of who you’d become slip away before his very eyes; “Unit eight is in the dorms, ma’am.”

“Which dorms, unit eight? Which building are you in?”

“Units are not disclosed that information, ma’am.” She nodded her head, humming to herself as she placed the device down, her and Irene sharing a look, before a voice-note recorder was being turned on, only a blinking light to signal that it was active.

“How old are you, unit?”

“This unit was born eight years, one month and six days ago, ma’am.” She was happy with that revelation, shifting in her chair, before her tone was going slightly softer once again.

“Can you tell me what is happening, right now? Tell me where you are, what you can see and feel and hear, what are you thinking?”

“I-I see the dorms. My bed, the sheets are scratchy, I don’t like how they feel when I sleep on them, it makes my skin feel itchy. I can hear the guards, they’re changing any minute now, the ones outside the door are getting impatient. There’s plastic, smooth, clean, and cold.” Your fingers twitched a little, your hand moving as though you were holding onto something, and then there was a laminated playing card slipped into your hold, your fingers flexing around it. Your thumb stroked over the material, before you were letting out a sudden gasp. “It’s quiet, now. The showers are running, that’s where the other units are. They’re good, I want to be good, but I don’t like it here. I don’t like it here, please, I don’t like it here.”

You were choking up, voice childlike and cracking as you spoke, slipping between the way he’d known you to refer to yourself as, and a child who didn’t know any better, the inner monologue of a frightened youth who was being made into a monster. “Focus, unit eight. It’s quiet now, why?”

You sniffled, gripping the plastic in your hand again tightly. “The guards are gone. It’ll be forty-six seconds before the others get here. The rounds are changing.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means it’s time to go.” There was a finality to your voice now, determined and adamant like a petulant child, before you were taking a deep breath, body jerking slightly from your feet and upwards, as though you’d jumped and landed on them harshly, and he imagined that was from the impact of hitting the floor as you jumped down from bunk beds.

“Tell me what you’re doing, unit eight.”

“I’m looking out of the window in the door. It’s small, I can’t see much, but I can see the hall. It’s clear. I remember the way, from training this week. I remembered. The second left, the first left, the third right, then straight ahead until I get to the big grey door.”

“Correct. How do you plan to open the door?”

“I stole a keycard. I have to go. I have to go now!” Your voice was becoming more frantic, and then, it all seemed to kick off. Your arm jerked, the one holding the card, as though you’d swiped the card over the door and opened it. Your legs twitched, jerking with each step as your breathing became shallow, like you were running, laboured and gasping as you went, and your entire body was shifting from side to side, up and down, subtle movements, but a considerable amount of twitching nonetheless. You were mumbling directions to yourself, marks you remembered, passing the labs and the gym, as well as the cafeteria, before a cry left you. “No, no, no!”

“What is happening now, unit eight? Tell me what’s happening.”

“There’s an alarm. It’s only been half a minute, they shouldn’t know I’m gone yet! The lights are red, and flashing. It’s loud, it hurts my eyes and my ears.” He knew what they were approaching, Irene had explained it all to him after choosing to travel with him on the drive over. You hit a wall, you got to your escape, and they knew you made it outside but then your mind closed in on itself, and you were lost to them. As soon as you could tell them what happened on the other side of the door, they could track the location, but you never could. “I’m confused. I lost count! I don’t know where to go!”

You sounded broken, and his heart clenched for you, standing up a little straighter and Irene turned her gaze to his own immediately, a silent glare that screamed at him to stay put, and he had to bite his tongue just to stop from making a comment and telling her to back off. Clearly, they were used to this, they must’ve seen you like this a dozen times, but it didn’t hurt him any less.

“The second left, the second left.” You were mumbling to yourself now, panting as you spoke, your chest rising and falling quickly. “The first left and the third right.” Your body was twitching again, like you’d run the route through in your mind and remembered where to go, before you were letting out a cry again, this one sounding a little more victorious. “The big grey door!”

“Have you found the door, unit eight?”

“Yes! Yes, I can make it!” Your arm moved again, before you were shaking, once along your body, and the temperature in the room went down again, even colder, and he assumed that wherever it was you were being kept at the time must’ve been somewhere icy. Irene turned on the fan beside you, harsh winds blowing silently over your body, your hair moving around lightly with the strands that framed your face. Their bodies both sagged as you cheered, before your face was falling again, and you were beginning to let out sobs. “They found me. They found me! It’s too slippery, I can’t make it! There’s too much snow, it’s too much!”

Irene ran a hand through her hair, the plastic dropping from your hands as you began to scrabble, breathing desperately and as your knees jerked, cries and whimpers leaving you as he watched your body shift in diluted movements of climbing and falling, trying to drag yourself along. You were hyperventilating, you were panicking, shutting in on yourself and you couldn’t take it anymore. “Can you tell me what you see, unit eight?”

You only let out another cry, and he watched as the therapist reached for the device, Irene standing up robotically and already reaching for the switch on the fan again as he decided enough was enough, your words mixed with desperate drags of breath and shakes as you got stuck in the cold.

“That’s enough. Stop it, you’re breaking her!”

“Rapp!”

“Unit eight is-” Your words cut off, Irene letting out a sigh as the flashing light on the device was taken off, Doctor Lindsay’s entire body deflating, and he didn’t care about how much they needed this information, or how much trouble he would get into, he just needed to be there for you right now. His hand found yours, and you whimpered under your breath, before you were squeezing his hand back. “Mitch, it’s so cold. I’m so cold. I’m scared.”

“I know, sweetheart, it’s okay. I'm here with you.”

“Hold on.” Irene’s hand shot out, her mouth agape a little, and the therapist seemed just as shocked. “Continue on, continue!” The device was turned back on, and he adjusted himself on his knees, opening his mouth to protest before the doctor was speaking over him.

“Unit eight, can you tell me what’s happening?”

“Mitch, they’re here! I’m not fast enough, I’m so cold!” Tears slipped out of your eyes now as you gripped at his hand, and he winced as your nails dug into his skin, scratching as you scrabbled. “No! No, please, no!” Your back arched up off of the couch, a violent motion that made everybody jump back, a loud shout tearing from you, one of the most broken and distressed sounds he’d ever heard.

“Get her out! Now!”

“No, we’ve never gotten this far!” Irene yelled back, uncaring of being delicate now, not wanting to break the trance, her desperation for the information taking over. “Ask her, Mitch, ask her what she sees! She’s responding to you! You’re in her mind deep enough that even her subconscious is seeking you out for comfort, you’re helping her keep going.”

His nostrils flared, but he knew he had to do as told, and so he turned back to you, a shaky hand brushing away your tears gently, before you flinched violently, pulling away from his touch. “Sweetheart, can you tell me where you are? What do you see, tell me about it? How would you paint it?”

“Paint it?”

“What colours would you use? What would it look like?”

You steadied your breath, relaxing slightly as you gasped, wet breaths as more hot tears slipped down your cheeks. “White. There’s so much snow, and there’s grey, too. Looks like there’s a storm coming.”

“You’re doing so good, keep going for me.”

He brushed a hand along the edge of your face, and you tipped into his warmth a little, your mind instinctually searching for him, his heart skipping a beat in his chest as you did. “Green. The trees are tall, so tall they block out the sun, there’s shadows, and the woods look dark, but I can’t take the road. It smells like Christmas.”

“Pine trees. There are pine trees.” The therapist's words were drowned out as you continued to whimper quietly before him. He shushed you gently, watching as you continued to fight, but your shivering was calming a little.

“Tell me about the building.”

“I can see it now, I’m almost at the end of the garden, the fences are broken, I broke them last week so I could get through.” He nodded, waiting for you to continue. “It’s a big warehouse, not like the usual houses. There are lots of colours on the side. Drawings.”

“Graffiti?”

“Yes.” You mumbled this word, going quiet, and suddenly your whole body is stiff. “They’re too close. I can’t go yet. I need to hide. Mitch, we need to hide.”

“Okay, sweetheart. We’re hiding.” You hummed, and he could see your eyes darting around under your eyelids, breathing held, and he rubbed his other hands gently over your ribs, coaxing you to take a breath before you hyperventilated. “Tell me about the drawings, what are they?”

“Not drawings, it’s words. It’s a warning.”

“What does it say?” You were getting frantic now, whimpering under your breath as a child would, and he felt sick to even be partaking in this, but you were so passionate about it, he knew that if you were of your own mind right now you would have told him to keep going, and you’d already told him how much you wanted to help the others. He needed to know that he could make you safe, that he could use this information to make sure he brought down whatever organisation had ruined you, and make sure they’d never harm you again.

“Берегитесь Ахмеровского леса, он проклят.” Beware the Akhmerovsky Forest, for it is cursed.

“Is that Russian? Did you get that?” He’d almost forgotten about Irene and the therapist, but she confirmed that she’d got it, the blinking device being waved in the air, and the two women looked elated, before he growled, cutting them off and drawing their attention back to him.

“Great, now you’ve had your fill of picking through her mind, can you bring her back?”

“Unit eight, can you hear me?”

“Mitch! Mitch, they’re coming!” You were whispering now, your hand clenching around his as your entire body went stiff, and he opened his mouth to reply, before a loud shout left you. Your entire body jerked, head to toe, and you were sobbing now, shouting and crying out for help, his name mixed in along the pleas and begs. “No, no, I’m sorry! Please, no! Mitch! Help me! I’m sorry!”

You were struggling to breathe, tears flowing from your cheeks as your legs kicked, your arm flying out so fast he barely had time to avoid it, and your glass of water was knocked to the floor, water spraying everywhere and glass shattering on the wooden tiles with a cracking sound that made him wince. “Sweetheart, can you hear me?”

“Mitch! Where are you? Mitch, please!” Quite possibly the worst scream Mitch had ever heard sounded out, blood-curdling and enough to make him feel the clenching of his stomach. Your hand was limp in his now, before it was flying up to grip at your ribs, and your breathing struggled. The cushion under your head slipped from the couch, your body twisting to the side, curling into the fetal position as you spasmed, like you were being beaten, and he could feel his own tears leaking from his eyes now.

Irene was shouting, authority and power in her voice, but it was no use, because among the white noise was Doctor Lindsay, trying to get through to you, every keyword and trigger break the two of you had was flailing from her lips, but you weren’t even responding to his voice anymore, panting and whimpering as you relieved each blow and beat in your mind. Finally, you stopped, crying to yourself quietly, and Mitch thought maybe that would be the entire scene, that would be the only fuel to haunt his sleep for the next few months, but then, you were scratching at your chest trying to breathe as it seemed you couldn't even get the oxygen into your lungs, what he knew well as a panic attack was forming.

“No, please, don’t lock me away! I’ll be good, I promise! Please!”

You were making fists again, knuckles white from the intensity of it, and he reached out to try and uncurl your fingers before you cut into your palms, but you jerked away from him. Your back left the couch, your entire body shaking and vibrating in a way he knew was a form of electrocution, and he clapped a hand over his own mouth to stop the noises he wanted to make from being released.

“Don’t leave me here! I’m scared, it’s dark! Please, don’t leave me!” You were getting worse now, a clammy sweat lining your skin as your body began to go entirely calm, each organ shutting down and becoming sluggish as the panic took over, but you still couldn't breathe, that part of you was still in overdrive as it failed to work. “Please!”

It was the last word to leave you, before finally, you were able to take a deep and gasping beat, everything going silent as your mind gave in, passing out on the couch as reliving the panic attack made you short circuit, giving up to reboot as it all became too much.

It had been hours, Mitch eventually having moved to sitting on the couch beside you, your legs across his lap after repositioning the cushion under your head. After it was all over, the quiet was more deafening to him than your screams had been.

Sprawled out on the cushions, you had looked utterly exhausted, panic and stress still stitched onto your features, your hair messy from your thrashing with flushed cheeks, but he figured the slow breaths you were taking was a good enough step, calm and quiet taking over the room. Irene moved first, motioning the therapist to go with her, and the two had stepped out of the room. At any other time, he would’ve followed them, demanding to know what information it was they were exchanging, but right now he was willing to let them have their confidentiality, because he was more concerned with your well-being.

He smoothed back your hair, lifting your head up to place a cushion underneath, and he couldn't resist the urge to press a kiss to your forehead, mumbling an apology into your skin for letting this happen to you, and for being a part of it. He comforted himself by knowing that you were happy, he soothed his own nerves by pretending that he knew how much you wanted this and that it excused the way he’d acted, but it didn’t. He should have fought harder to refuse, and he should have fought harder to resist Irene’s demands, or to pull you out while you were listening to him.

You’d had to relive the event that had been the final breaking of your spirit, the final piece that had made you into an obedient soldier who would do as told, and when you’d subconsciously put enough trust in him not to shut down, he’d made you go through it all. He felt awful, and so as the hours dragged on and the light faded away, the therapist and his superior having left you both alone a long time ago, he was still sitting here, waiting for you.

The dimple between your brows was gone, smoothing out, and the frown that seemed so reply embedded had faded, your face was simply left blank, chest rising and falling slowly, and it was enough to tempt him into a serene level of calm himself.

His head was resting against the back of the couch, eyes closed as the turning of the ceiling fan made him feel dizzy, and so he’d opted for complete darkness instead to block them out. With a hand smoothing over your leg, he waited patiently, head snapping up when he finally felt a more solid twitch than everything else had been.

He watched again, your nose scrunching up a little as you began to surface, and your lips parted, a deeper breath than the even ones you’d been taking as you slept, and his lips flicked up at the sides as you began to rise back up out of your unconscious. Suddenly, just like that, the peace was shattered once again. You let out a loud cry, fists clenching again before you were screaming, letting out a stuttered call of his name, followed by a sob, and he couldn't get to his feet fast enough.

He was kneeling by your side, skin growing damp from sweat once again as he tried to cup your face despite your thrashing, and you sat bolt upright with such speed that he felt backwards, banging his elbow on the coffee table and hissing out in pain as he grabbed it, but his attention was solely on you. Your eyes were glossed over and filled with tears, once that promptly began to leak down your cheeks, fast and heavy tears that dripped away to leave marks on your clothes, and he tried to swallow down the lumps in his throat as he watched you.

You still seemed a little dazed, staring off into space, and you jumped violently when he cleared his throat, as though you hadn't even known he was there until you were looking at him. Fear and panic became anger, and he almost flinched under your glare as you backed away from him, pulling your knees up to your chest as you pressed back into the cushions.

“You left me!”

He gaped, staring at you in shock, before hurt was washing through his body again, the tone of your voice breaking him, each crack and wave as you stared at him, sniffling sadly and clinging to yourself for support. Shifting again, he moved, taking a seat beside you on the couch, and you didn’t move any further away, but you refused to meet his eyes, and he let out a deep sigh.

“It got bad, and you left! You left me alone!”

“It wasn’t real, sweetheart..” You cut yourself off before even saying your next words, raising your eyes to look at him, before you were whimpereing a little under your breath, and he tried to inch a little closer to you now.

“It wasn’t?”

“No, it just felt real.” He offered a hand out, placing it on your knee slowly as you watched him go, but he smiled a little when you didn’t push him away or back off, your tense stance slipping away a little as exhaustion too over, the fight or flight instinct slipping out of your body and leaving you with nothing but aches and pains, and very tired. “I promise, I would never leave you. I’m sorry I helped them, but you did so well, sweetheart, and now you’ll never have to do it again.”

“It’s all over?”

“It’s all over.” You only nodded, wiping your cheeks on your sleeve, and he could see how sensitive and sore the puffy skin must been, your eyes red, just like the tip of your nose, and he watched as you seemed to process the information, cogs working inside your mind as you became yourself again.

“You won’t leave me?”

“Never. I promise.” You let out a slow breath, before you were uncurling your body and slumping down onto the couch cushions. He offered his hands, standing and pulling you to your own feet, and your legs almost buckled underneath yourself. “C’mon, let’s get you out of here.”

You grinned a little at that, and he didn’t realise just how much he’d been longing to see that expression on your face again until he was seeing it now. He helped you put on your jacket, and grabbed his coat, patting down his pockets for his keys, tugging them out as you signed your name and the time in the visitor book at the front reception, mumbling a goodbye to the friendly receptionist who wished you a good evening, before you were on your way with him out of the clinic. “I just want to go home, now.”

He wasn’t sure you even knew you’d said the words, but he nodded anyway, holding the car door open for you and letting you hop up into the seat.

He quickly followed your actions, and he couldn’t get away from the therapy practice fast enough, watching in his mirrors as it faded away into her distance, until it was blocked by other buildings and he could no longer see it, finally feeling like he could relax fully. You were safe, and conscious again, and he knew you never had to go back. You’d forgiven him, and so maybe now he could forgive himself, and he felt like the white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel could let up.

You were playing with the music channels, settling on a classical music station, the low notes of piano and guitar filling the vehicle, and it was soothing to say the least, feeling like each little melody helped to lift away his fears and wash it from his mind, and you were hypnotised by the headlights of other cars, watching as they flashed by along the roads as he took various turns, before you were sitting up a little straighter, staring out of the glass at the road.

“No, no, Mitch. I want to go home.”

He turned, glancing at you quickly, and fixing you with a puzzled look, but you didn’t see it, staring out on the garden with concern once again. “That’s where we’re going, you live here.”

“No, I don’t want to go to where I live.” You reached over, your hand resting on his arm, squeezing urgently as he slowed down the car. “I want to go to our home.”

Mitch felt his heart leap in his chest, lost for words for a second, before he was only nodding, driving right past your building and picking up speed once again, and he didn’t miss the relieved noise you made as he did. “Okay, sweetheart. We can go home.”

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120 notes · View notes

2-cute-4-school · 4 years

Text

Fatum

Group : NCT

Pairing : Park Jisung x gn!Reader

Genre : fluff, a bit of angst in the beginning

Word count : 2K words | M.list

‘A fire that could burn down the entire world, but could never touch you.’

Before finally asking you out, you and Jisung had been friends for years. You always concluded that the time you’ve spent together was when you felt most alive, feeling your erratic heartbeat against your rib cage or the heat rising to your cheeks and forming a pink hue that spread across your face. Your bond with Jisung was so pure, like a modern fairy tale, a budding love story blossoming shyly under the soothing moonlight.

You told each other everything, every secret, every hidden truth you were too scared to reveal to the rest of the world. You trusted Jisung with your heart and in turn, he gifted you his on a silver plate. Despite the years spent attached at the hip, you still cherished every moment spent together, relishing in the other’s presence. So when you didn’t turn up at school one day, without a word to him or any of your other friends, he had every right to boil with worry.

“Look, I’m worried too, Jisung, but if you don’t stop bouncing your leg I’ll cut it off, don’t try me.”

Jisung forced himself to stop at Chenle’s hissed demand, but not even a minute later it resumed its action. Chenle sighed gravely beside him.

“We’ll go over after school, just stop already.”

“I just don’t get it. We always tell each other if something comes up.”

“I’m sure you’re thinking too much, it’s not good for your brain, you’re using it too much at a time.”

Chenle’s joke didn’t seem to light up his friend’s mood as he continued to stare blankly at the messy notes scribbled across the pages of his notebook. The doodles on the desks, made with your Sharpie seemed to glare back at Jisung, burning holes through the worn-out wood they decorated.

“Try to survive a few more hours without your sweetie pie, honeybunch, sugar plum.” Chenle’s tone was sickeningly sweet and Jisung couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

“Shut up, Chenle, not my fault your love life is drier than my grandma’s skin.”

Chenle gasped dramatically before slapping Jisung’s shoulder in fake hurt.

School hours seemed to drag on for longer than usual without your presence. Jisung dragged himself through class after class, his mind wandering the entire day to the visit he owed you as soon as school finished. Jisung swore the moment the bell rang, signifying the end of his last period, he bolted from his seat so fast the room spun for a few seconds. He barely had it in himself to wait for Chenle in front of the gate, shifting his weight anxiously from one foot to the other as he waited for his friend. He had to admit that patience wasn’t one of his virtues, but Chenle should have known that already when he decided to make him wait in such a situation. As soon as he was close enough, Jisung grabbed him, dragging him through the sea of tired teenagers, cursing at their teachers and homework.

“Slow down, slow down, Jisung.”

Of course his words fell on deaf ears as Jisung only seemed to speed up his pace and by the time they arrived in front of your house Chenle was already panting, leaning his hands on his knees, but Jisung didn’t spare him a single glance as he approached the door and rand the bell, hoping to see your face as soon as the door cracked open.

“So much for keeping fit.” Chenle grunted out before moving to stand by Jisung’s side.

They heard shuffling from inside and the doorknob turned downwards a moment later, allowing them to come face to face with your mother, whose tired features morphed into a soft smile at the sight of the boys. They both greeted her politely and before Jisung could ask about you, your mother beat him to it.

“Hello, kids, come in, I thought you might come around.”

She moved away from the entryway, allowing them to step inside the familiar house and take their shoes off before following your mother in your living room and sitting down on one of the sofas. Jisung pursed his lips, used to you skipping cheerfully as soon as you heard the door opening, knowing that it could only be them coming over. Instead, he was met with silence this time which unnerved him even further.

“Y/N hasn’t been feeling well.”

The boys’ heads snapped towards your mom, concern washing over their features. Their eyes ran over her stance, slouched over with dark bags under her eyes, they could tell she probably wasn’t sleeping well and stayed up to watch over you.

“I thought it would be better by now, but the fever isn’t going away. They’ve been in and out of it for a while. A doctor came over earlier and assured us that we can treat it from home, but if things don’t go well soon, we should go to the hospital.”

“Since when?”

Jisung’s voice wavered, worry settling deep down in his chest. You hadn’t told him anything about not feeling well so a twinge of hurt swiveled around, tickling his wavering heart.

“The fever appeared yesterday evening, but it was mild. It progressed overnight.”

Jisung fiddled with his fingers, torn by the desire to see you, to put out the fire in his soul, soothe the storm in his soul with just the sight of you. Chenle looked over at Jisung who was lost deep in between his jumbled thoughts and spoke up on account of both himself and his friend.

“Can we please go in?” He motioned towards your door, enlarging his eyes and jutting out his bottom lip at the sight of your mother considering his ask. The question seemed to also snap Jisung out of his frenzy.

“Please, we won’t take long.”

Your mother still hesitated, worried about the boys also getting sick, but once she met their pleading gazes she could only let out a sigh.

“Alright, I guess a quick visit won’t hurt.”

“Yes! Thank you!”

They both jumped up from their seats, turning towards the hallway leading to your room with rushed steps.

“And Jisung!”

Said boy stopped in his tracks at the mention of his name, craning his neck to look back at your mom who regarded his with a playful smile.

“No smooches today.”

His face heated up faster than he could turn back around as he stumbled over his words in an attempt to mumble out a reply. His ears were bright red, forming a contrast with Chenle’s hand that reached out to grip at them gently as the older boy let out a snort.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Y/L/N, not on my watch.”

Your mother let out a quiet chuckle as she retreated back into the kitchen, leaving the boys to their business. Jisung didn’t hesitate to twist the knob of your door and push it open, but he almost regretted it when his eyes landed on you. It wasn’t the first time he had seen you sick, of course not, but never to this extent. His heart fell and it felt as if he stepped on it with every stride he took forward. As he neared your bed, he felt all of his happiness drained from him. You looked so frail, paler than your usual healthy skin tone. You seemed to be sleeping, but it was anything but peaceful, a frown furrowing your eyebrows together, your fingers twitching from time to time.

Jisung shakily sat down on the edge of your bed, afraid that if he jostled you too much you would break into pieces right under his fingertips. He brushed his hand against yours, curling protectively around your freezing own, despite the sweat shining on your forehead. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but Jisung was scared out of his mind seeing you like that.

The light of the sun shimming its way through the clouds seemed to fade even further away and the colors splayed around your room didn’t seem nearly as bright in Jisung’s eyes. The world looked duller from his point of view, paling at the same time as you, leaving him behind with a stuttering heart.

He barely acknowledged Chenle striding up to you too, his eyes fixed on your frame, too scared that if he dared to move away his eyes, you would vanish right before him like sand in the wind. Chenle threaded his fingers slowly through your hair, pushing away the loose strands covering your face and regarded you with soft eyes. Your frown seemed to diminish as you recognized the presence of your boys even while buried deep in your fever dream.

“Their lips are dried, where’s the water bottle?”

Chenle shuffled around for a bit, one of his hands never leaving your head as he stroked your hair gently in an unconscious attempt to lessen your pain. He bent down to pick the bottle once he located it but sighed at the sight of it almost empty.

“I’ll go fill it up, stay here.”

Jisung merely nodded at his words, his full attention never leaving you. His thumb caressed the skin of your knuckles, trying to somehow show you he was there, right beside you, loving you unconditionally and waiting for you just like a puppy waits for its owner with nothing but loyalty and unadulterated fondness.

He sighed and attempted to sit up and bring your chair in order to rather sit down on it than supposedly squeeze in beside you on the side of your bed, but he froze as he felt your shaky but firm grip on his index finger. He stared in awe at the way your fist curled around his large finger, his hand dwarfing yours, reminding him of the way a baby holds onto their parent when unsettled.

His once faltering heart burst with overwhelming affection for you at your small action. The way you held onto him as if he was your lifeline, as if his presence could cure everything and shoo your pain away. Jisung let a grin spread across his face for the first time since he had arrived at school that day, lowering his forehead bashfully to rest atop your intertwined hands. as he cradled them with his other one, engulfing them.

“Oh my God.”

He couldn’t even put into words how much you affected him, the way you could play him on your little finger and he would be too caught up with loving you to ever complain. Warmth spread into his whole body, sparkles running across his skin delightfully and lighting up another fire in his heart. A fire that could burn down the entire world, but could never touch you, just the way he would stand through anything as long as he had you. He let out a breathy chuckle, in disbelief at himself for only realizing now just how whipped he was for you.

“Oh my God, Y/N, you can’t do this to me now when you’re sick.”

He littered kisses anywhere in his reach, soft like a butterfly brushed against your exposed skin. Jisung nuzzled his nose in your crooked palm, seeking out the familiar feeling of your skin pressed against his. He needed you the way he needed oxygen, the way a swallow needs its wings to feel the wind threading through its feathers and leading it to freedom. He needed you unconditionally, not even a breath in between the two of you.

“Get better soon, baby. Come back to me so I can love you properly.”

Jisung pressed a long kiss to the back of your hand, still gripping his finger firmly, grounding yourself. His lips lingered over the cold skin that slowly warmed up due to his touch, brushing it as he spoke to you in hushed tones, promising you the moon and the stars as nothing mattered to him other than having you back in his arms, healthy and smiling.

And in that moment, with your fates knotted together, Jisung swore he would hold onto you until his last breath.

#cznnet #nct fluff #nct dream #nct imagines #nct jisung #nct angst #nct scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff #nct jisung fluff #nct jisung angst #nct jisung scenarios #nct jisung imagines

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everlarkbirthdaygifts · 4 years

Text

Happy Birthday, b-boop5!

Happy Birthday, @b-boop5! We hope you’re having a wonderful day so far, and that you’ve got something equally wonderful to look forward to later! To start your party right, the lovely @endlessnightlock has written a story just for you!

“You know, I don’t understand how you managed to do this-'' Peeta Mellark tosses the words over his shoulder, with an expression on his face that I would describe as mildly put upon.

I could not say why. Peeta is undoubtedly not the one in a precarious position- that would be me.

What can I say? I am a bit of a high-spirited young woman- always known for getting into scrapes and mischief, not usually of my own doing. Though, at nearly five and twenty, the word “young” cannot apply to me much longer. Gale Hawthorne, my good friend, likes to tease that I will soon be ready to put out to pasture myself; he finds that joke particularly humorous because of my father’s profession as a sheep farmer.

While I maintain my precarious position on the tree branch, Peeta murmurs something under his breath, but I cannot hear his exact words- he did not direct them at me.

I am beginning to wonder if he was annoyed by the summons to come to my rescue, although irritation of any sort seems odd coming from Peeta. I hadn’t caught him yet in any state of genuine anger, not even that one occasion on his farm when I watched him get kicked between the legs by one of his rams. His calm, quiet persona is one of his many mysteries.

Peeta’s been in our county for nearly six months now; he arrived as a virtual stranger and took ownership of old Mr. Thread’s farm that neighbor’s my father’s place.

Being a young man, he thus opened himself up to a world of gossip, not the typical line of inquiry either, such as how he came to have ownership of an eighty-acre sheep farm at such a tender age. Most of the discussion surrounding Peeta was on the topic of his wavy blond hair and broad shoulders, and his eyes, which are as blue as the lake in the middle of summer. Above all, conversation surrounded his lack of a romantic partner and what that could mean for our community’s unmarried ladies.

In fact, since his arrival, Peeta’s been the most-talked-about bachelor since that fey Irishman Finnick Odair, who snuck away in the middle of the night with Annie Cresta, the daughter of the vicar. The pair eloped and afterward was the village’s talk for many weeks.

It was not long after their marriage that he left our village to become a fisherman. The new couple moved to the coast, and I’m told by those who’ve seen them of late that the Odairs have a beautiful bronze-haired baby boy now.

But I digress- back to Peeta Mellark; I must admit he is very likable, and a handsome man to boot. He will have no troubles in his search for a wife when that time comes. I will be sad to see that day come; I have formed a deep affection for him that I surely must let go of once he finds a wife. The thought of Peeta marrying pains me, although I cannot say why.

Regardless of all those thoughts of marriage, I am rather grateful to him despite his current grumpy countenance. I don’t know if I would ever admit to such a thing- he already likes to joke with me too much.

I think Peeta Mellark’s greatest joy in life is to tie my tongue up between my lips. I must admit that I don’t mind his teasing too much- he is too gentle of a man to ever be cruel in it.

He is coming to my rescue- courtesy of Prim, that conviving sibling of mine who is currently nowhere in sight. She has never been one to pass up an opportunity to meddle in my business. Prim has been after me for months now, repeatedly saying that it has not gone unnoticed the way I have turned Peeta’s eye and that the village girls are quite jealous of me.

Balderdash! What would a man like Peeta find about me to be to his liking? I’m too wild by half; no sane man would wish to marry me. It’s pure foolishness when there are dozens of prettier, more wifely girls available in the village. He simply regards me as a friendly companion, and that is all there is to it.

Above the particular limb, beneath which Peeta is trying to get his wagon situated, is my straw bonnet, firmly stuck in the tree. My hat’s particular indignity of being stuck in there is woeful enough without the added misery of my head’s firm ensconcement inside its woven-straw prison.

I am entirely stuck- neither my head nor hat will budge, no matter how much I struggle against my confinement. And I have struggled, but it’s all been in vain. A sharp stick must have impaled itself through both the straw brim and my braided updo at the same time. Fortunately for my neck, which I would prefer not to break today, the limb below where I sit keeps me in place for now.

“It is a tremendously dull story, really,” I reply, hoping to maintain the breezy tone of voice I was trying to affect. While both of my feet remain dangling from the trunk beneath my bottom, keeping my dignity is no easy task.

Peeta laughs, and the sound makes me feel a little lighter. “I very much doubt that- nothing is ever dull with you, Ms. Everdeen.”

“You’re correct- my comings and goings are rarely dull,” I admit with a resigned sigh. It was no use pretending otherwise; everyone was aware of the scrapes I often found myself involved in.

If I were at home in my breeches and my boots, this particular incident would never have happened. It is much easier to move about freely when I am unencumbered by this foolish style of dress.

Also, if my sister’s orange demon-feline were not so horrendous in the first place- not to mention if Prim had left him home today instead of smuggling him inside her spare basket, this wouldn’t have happened.

Bring him along she did, very unwisely, I might add, to today’s church picnic, and then erred further by leaving him plenty of opportunities to escape the confines of his basket and hightail it for the tallest tree in the churchyard.

If it weren’t for any of those things, my feet would still be firmly on the ground as they should with my shoes’ soles kissing the earth.

After a flurry of movement on the ground, Peeta is climbing the tree to dislodge me, aided by a leg up on his wagon. He is not such a good climber as I, he has admitted to me on more than one occasion. Still, he climbs, and it is not long before he is making his way across the branch towards me.

Once he reaches my side, I can see that all traces of his earlier irritation are gone, replaced by the glee in his eyes. I shall not be so lucky to go without some teasing remark, though. As I have said, I do not mind.

“What am I going to do with you, Ms. Everdeen?” Peeta asks, his eyes skating across my face.

His eyes catch mine, steady and true, and warmth fills my chest. I am delighted to see him, so I cannot keep the smile from my lips as I reply. “I do not know. I would say that you should put me somewhere safe, but I do not know that such a place exists.”

“Safe from you? I should have to agree.” Peeta holds my gaze. In just a moment, he should be able to get me loose. “Are you quite alright- are you in any pain?” he asks, his hand going to my hat.

I shake my head- well, as much as I can move while it is held in place by the sharp stick in my hair and hat, that is. “No, I am as comfortable as one can be while stuck.”

“Good.” He moves closer to get a good look at the situation involving my hair, hat, and the sharp stick. “Ms. Everdeen, may I ask you something while we are alone?” he asks after what is quite a prolonged silence for such a talkative man. I thought he was taking an inordinately long time.

“Certainly,” I answer, realizing that my heart is doing an odd thing inside my chest at his proximity. I feel a tug on my hair then, indicating to me that he is pulling the stick out of it. My eyes close when his hand goes to my head to keep the hat in place and dull the tugging sensation at my roots.

“Would you allow me to court you?” Peeta asks- his eyes on my hair. He seems apprehensive. “It’s just that I care for you a great deal. You must know that, Ms. Everdeen.”

“Court me- you wish to court me,” I answer dumbly, my brain a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

Peeta wishes to court me- he wants to be my beau.

“Yes,” he repeats himself quickly, “I would very much like to if you will allow it.”

At that moment, I realize my head is free, so I look up at Peeta. The sun is behind him, and its glow illuminates his eyelashes, revealing their incredible length to me.

What a funny thing that I have not noticed that until now. I have not been so aware of Peeta before now, but that has changed in an instant. He is a very wonderful man, both outwardly and in.

And yes, I realize, I would like him to be my beau. Perhaps more? I think, sudden thoughts of living in his little stone cottage together filling my mind.

My breath catches in my throat at the loveliness his smile when I grin at him. His expression reinforces my newly realized knowledge that I care much for him.

“I will allow it,” I answer, but quickly add on a disclaimer when he reaches to embrace me; I’ve spent enough time up in a tree for one day. “But only after we are safely on the ground.”

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlarkbirthdaydrabbles #everlarkbirthdaygifts #fan fic #by endlessnightlock

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sabineskeep · 5 years

Text

Poolside

Visiting your grandma was always a very taxing process. You didn't mind the pool, the free cookies, or all the card games, but having to spend the whole weekend not more than five feet away from your whole family was very unappealing. At least if you were at home you could escape back to your room, turn up your music and ignore them, but between your overbearing mother, loose-lipped little sister, and your grandma who seemed to always have something to pick on you about, it was going to be a rough weekend.

"Lets go sweet heart! We can't have everyone waiting around on you like usual!" Your nana said with a sickly sweet grin. You sheepishly smiled back and grabbed your towel before heading out the door. Your grandma expected you to be the perfect granddaughter. Captain of the volleyball team, President of the student council, all of it. While you were on a lot of teams at school and had very good grades, but you never could seem to completely satisfy her.

Your little sister, Cassie was only eight and entirely all too excited to go swim with a bunch of elderly people. She was giggling up a storm and you had to admit she was adorable. Admittedly, you liked Cassie the best out of everyone she really was sweet and fun. She just really did not know how to keep a secret, or how to not read your diary aloud to your mom. She grabbed your hand and pulled you faster towards the pool.

"Don't forget to put on your sunscreen girls! And wear the pool shoes I brought you!" Your mom called after you. She was definitely cracking under the pressure of your grandma. She had even bought you and your sister matching bathing suits for the weekend. Cassie had a black one piece with teal stripes and you had black high waisted bottoms with a teal sports bra-like top.

Many residents were milling around the pool area with some young family members here and there. The pool was gorgeous with all the white lounge chairs and palm trees it was the perfect sunny day. You were reclining on a lounge chair when you saw a mop of black hair pass you. You would recognize that lanky goth frame anywhere.

Rodrick Heffley, you two went to high school together. You two had never talked, but you had witnessed your fair share of him hitting on girls and getting turned down, playing air drums on his desk in class, goofing off with his friends and then trying to act cool the next second. Maybe you had paid a little more attention to him than you thought. You realized you had been gawking at him for far too long as he took a seat across the pool from you. You tore your eyes away and you could feel your cheeks get hot. You didn't know that Rodrick was also peeling his eyes away from you.

You slammed the door of your grandmas apartment behind you and wiped your arm across your eyes. A couple tears still fell as you walked down the hallway. You had left in the middle of dinner because your grandmas comments got too much too handle. Everything you did seemed to be wrong. There was always some snide comment about your eating, your skin, your hair. You couldn't stay another minute in that room.

You traced your previous path down the 90s patterned carpet. The hallway had a couple nightlights but was still mostly dark which made an eerie feeling crawl up your back. You rubbed your arms in the chilly air you wished you had brought a coat before you ran out of the house. All you had on were some pajama shirts and a loose crop top. Hopefully, the pool would have been left open so you could sit somewhere warm and calm down. Your tears dried away as you got farther and farther away from your problems and made it outside.

The pool door opened easily as you stepped out into the warm night. A full moon lit up the area but the blue pool lights cast moving patterns everywhere. You stood on the edge of the pool watching the tiny ripples when someone stepped up behind you.

"Hey don't I know you from school?" You let out a small shriek and very nearly tumbled into the pool but the stranger grabbed onto your waist and pulled you back. Then you were face to face with none other, but Rodrick. His mouth was slightly open trying to get words out.

"Thank you, but no thank you because you scared the shit out of me." You laughed out. You were desperately trying to not think about your loose shirt riding up and how his warm hands were still on the crook of your waist.

He took a step back, his hands lingering for another second before replying, "Sorry I didn't mean to freak you out. You're in my physics class right?" He pointed at you with an unsure look on his face. You took in his red flannel over a handmade loded diaper t-shirt and his black skinny jeans. It was a little late to be so fully dressed but you guessed thats the punk life, and you were, definitely, not disappointed.

"Yeah, yeah I'm Y/N." You wrapped your arms around your waist. "Although I'm surprised you remember me considering you're almost never there." He winced at this fact. You had never felt this nervous before. Butterflies invaded your stomach and it felt a lot hotter outside. He's just a dumb boy in a band, you reminded yourself. A cute boy. A boy who was pretty much your exact type and right now all you wanted to do was peel off that flannel and reenact Romeo and Juliet right here by the pool.

"Oof thats true, but I try never to forget a pretty face." This came off more awkward than smooth, but lucky for Rodrick it definitely had an affect on you. You tried to keep it off your face but, turned back to the pool just in case.

"So-uh what are you doing out here?" He sidled up next to you, shoving his and hands in his pockets. You glanced up at him. "I had to get some space from my insane grandma." You ran your hands through your hair exasperated. "There just only so much I can deal with from her." Rodricks eyes were trained on your profile as you stared out into the pool. "That sounds harsh, I'm sorry." He tossed his hands out. "Well I've only known you for like five minutes and I think you're pretty great!" You smiled slightly and bumped him with your shoulder,

"Thanks dork, What about you? Whats got you coming to the pool in the middle of the night?" "My annoying little brother will not leave me alone!" He groaned taking a few steps back. "So I came out here to try and get some shut eye." He plopped down onto one of the pool loungers. You followed him slowly before sitting down on the edge of his chair.

"Ah, am I keeping you awake then?" You smirked. "No- no- I mean yes! but not in a bad way you know." He grabbed your wrist. You both looked down at his hand and then made eye contact. You could see just how dark his eyes were as they looked in to yours and it felt like you were getting slightly closer.

"I definitely knew you were in my physics class." He blurted out. "I've wanted to talk to you for a really long time." A little bit of confidence rose in you. Rodrick, punk extraordinaire had been watching you.

"You should've. I don't bite." You said barely above a whisper. His brown eyes bore into yours and again his mouth hung open in a surprise. "W-Would you want to come see my band play sometime?" He stuttered out. You smiled and put your hand on the side of his neck, pulling him closer to you.

"Yeah Rodrick I'd love to." Your softy pressed your lips together and threaded your hand into his dark curls. One of his hands dripped your waist and the other held onto your thigh. You pulled apart and you could see his pupil dilated. Both of you were breathing heavily. You were in disbelief. You never thought Rodrick would be interested in you, but here he was and you were not going to let this opportunity go to waste.

You gently pushed him back so he was reclining and climbed onto his lap. "I've been watching you to." You confessed. "For a very long time." "Looks like we have a lot of time to make up for." He said resting his hands on your outer thighs. You nodded as you ran your hands under his flannel and leaned down to press your lips together again. The kiss became more heated as he ran his hands under the edge of your shirt sending small tickles up your spine. His lithe body pressed up against you and you couldn't get enough. He pressed kisses down your neck and lightly bit down. You would definitely have a hickey later. You let out a small moan and felt him smile against your skin.

You rested back. "I'm gonna have to go back at some point. I don't want them to come looking for me." He groaned, wrapping his arms around my waist. "I guess so, but only if you promise to come to my band practice on Friday."

"Yes, I promise I will be there." You pressed one more small peck to his lips before climbing off. You straightened your clothes and began to walk back inside. You turned and gave Rodrick one more small wave, which he returned, before entering the building. You definitely weren't worried about your grandma now, although you would have to find a way to hide this hickey until you left.

#rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley imagine #rodrick heffley x reader #diary of a wimpy kid #diary of a wimpy kid dog days

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sleepdeprivedheretic · 3 years

Text

Those Shoes (Ch.3)

Song Inspired: I Want You by Savage Garden

Notes: @youtubequeens Hope you stay hydrated and have a lovely time! <3 Here’s this bit for now :3

Warnings: Creepy people, not getting the hint that a person’s uncomfortable, unwanted flirting, and talk about emotions bc honestly what are they?

He smiled as Eijirou took a bite of his onigiri, Tamaki sighed softly at his younger brother, as said boy had specks of sticky rice on his face.

It was a lazy Sunday morning, the boys were home from school, and Taishiro was enjoying his day off.

“Did ya have a good day at work, Papa?” The ruby-eyed boy inquired, and Tai smiled, ruffling his hair.

“Ya bet I did, kiddo.”

He didn’t tell his boys what he had exactly did for a living, but he promised himself that he would, in the future. So far, all they knew is that he was a professional dancer.

“Dancing must be hard.” Tamaki broke the silence after chewing on his scrambled egg, and his father laughed.

“Nah. It takes a lotta practice. Did you boys had fun at yer day at school?” He pondered, sipping from his cup of coffee.

“Yeah! There was a nice new boy who was shy! There were some mean kids, but I protected him!” Eijirou rambled excitedly. Taishiro chuckled, and then looked at Tamaki.

“Mirio fell in a puddle. Face first. I had to take him to the nurse.” He shrugged, yet Taishiro didn’t miss the soft glint that speckled in his eyes. He smiled.

“That kid’s pretty resilient, huh? Anyways, eat yer breakfast, then we’ll head out to the park, alright?”

………………

It was a pretty November day. Skeleton trees hovered beneath the rich blue sky as your shoes crunched up against the fallen colorful leaves. Although it hasn’t been a week, yet, you were slowly re-adapting to your hostess job, and nit and tucking the dancer’s clothes.

You were surprised on how many had requested your services, staying absolutely still as you kept a cool facade, keeping the pointed needle from digging into skin as you measured, cut, and sewed loose fabric. You believed in your abilities, yet it felt as if it didn’t matter.

You weren’t good at holding the obvious flirty conversations that somehow were being thrown at you out of nowhere. They would giggle, and you had to still your hand so that you couldn’t accidentally jab their shaking bodies, whilst trying to be polite.

Where did the sudden interest come from? You wondered. Your mother, undoubtedly, was on high alert as she noticed it, too. The flirting, joking, the inquiring questions. Luckily, the fitting room had a camera, and thankfully, your patients had known it too, so they were extra careful in not doing anything that was against the regulations. Your mother was watching, you all knew.

Speaking of which, she did not try to make things better. She would wink, or make subtle little jokes, as she explained that it was good for business. You couldn’t help but press your mouth in a firm line.

You worked so hard, finding the perfect materials, ignoring your own discomfort as you bit the bullet and tried to focus on making the outfit snug and resilient, while the owners ignored your tense shoulders and set jaw. You were appalled, as they used alluring honeyed words, directed your attention to a “loose” fabric between their thighs, and so on.

You, feeling a surge of retaliation, growled out that it would cost extra for you to fix certain areas, and preferred that the outfit was on a mannequin, instead.

Your spitfire attitude had certainly weeded out a few of the unwanted customers, but, gained some more who thought it was a challenge. You didn’t miss the look of sheer pride from your mother, however, as she sported a wicked grin.

“That’ll teach them. Might make your blond a little less jealous.” She winked, and you paled in question. He was jealous? Of what? You were only doing your job, charging the dancers a certain amount, and giving your mother, your boss, a small part of the revenue as she requested. Although a thorn in your side, she was also a beautiful rose, and you knew that she was helping you in her own way, thus, opening your eyes more to the situation.

It didn’t take you long to realize, that yes, he was jealous, and you were too busy to acknowledge the possibility, until your mother had to basically tell you. So, you took your time to observe your surroundings.

Daggers for a stare had met each and everyone of the customers who had followed you into the fitting room, you’ve seen. While hosting, you started to take breaks to watch him, much to the oddly placed chagrin in the other dancers. His style was a little different, more suave and seductive, rather than downright dirty. Back against the pole, he slid up slowly as he jutted out his chin, staring at you through blond lashes while sucking suggestively at one of his suckers, hardly minding the crowd as he gave you a show that was basically personal.

He was addictive, you couldn’t help but think. His outfits, dances, and downright attitude made the other’s shadow in comparison.

It brought you back to the present. Your feet shuffled against the dirt as you pushed yourself on the swing, breathing out huffs of warm air that meshed with the chilly atmosphere.

He didn’t make you feel too uncomfortable, either. He did make a request, to tuck in a few strings into his nurse outfit, you remembered it so clearly. He had strutted into your office around the right time, white fishnet stockings and heels blended in nicely with the light aqua blue fabric that left very little to the imagination.

“Jus’ some strings near the neck, Sugar. Might even give ya a sucker if ya behave.” He winked, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how corny it was, earning a smug smile and tinted cheeks. Although a little flirty, he stood perfectly still as you fixed the frayed mess that was near his clavicle, feeling his warmth resonate around you as you couldn’t help but seep it in. You hoped that he wouldn’t say anything about it. How you could feel a thundering, fast-paced heartbeat underneath your fingertips, despite his cocky facade, your face blushing immensely, or how the atmosphere seemed as if it might just break from underneath the metaphorical weight between the two of you.

However, true to his word, he began letting out pieces of information.

“We actually go to the same college.”

You stopped to stare at him with full surprise.

“What? Really?”

“Well, ya graduated before I did, but I live near the campus. I…kinda saw ya every day. Not as a stalker!” He rushed before you could think of anything.

“-as in, my road to the school kinda passes your road, and I couldn’t help but not look away when ya were…ya know…It’s a very connected town, so I’ve seen ya…around.”

Then it hit you.

“Ah, so you must’ve seen me doing volunteer work?” You murmured, and he nodded.

“Well, yeah. You’re a familiar face. Couldn’t really ignore ya, ‘specially when you’re bein’ so wonderful half the damned time. Ya don’t know me, and I know it might be a lil’ creepy, but I promise ya that I don’t mean to be.” He babbled, face tinting a little more pink, and your ears burned from the forward acknowledged statement.

So he noticed your volunteer work, and where you lived, and yet you didn’t really see him creeping around the bushes, or any tall figure of his build stalking around, for instance.

“So…is this why you have a sudden interest?” You asked, and you heard him swallow thickly.

“Pretty much. Doesn’t help that you’re kinda allurin’. Like a magnet.” He finished lamely, eyes shifting as he bit his bottom lip, and you couldn’t believe the shy signals that he was giving off as your own cheeks burned.

“Ah. Um…yeah.” You couldn’t help but say, and he snorted. You jutted your chin up and was about to give him a piece of your mind.

“We’re both kinda terrible at this. Anyways, that’s what I wanted to tell ya. Been seein’ ya around and makin’ the world a better place, an’ so I couldn’t help but like ya.” He waved off your short-lived glare as your expression softened.

“I don’t understand? You’re shy but not?” You questioned, nipping the small extra thread that you’ve already tucked in.

He shrugged.

“Emotions are emotions. Ya do things to me that I can’t explain, and I make ya into a flustered mess, and vice versa. I was at first too fuckin’ scared to really say or do anything, because the last thing I wanna be, is to be a creepy stalker in yer eyes.”

“I think I understand. As I don’t believe that you are a stalker…um…how do you? How did you-”

“Body language is a dead giveaway. Studyin’ to be a therapist. Plus, it’s relievin’ to get another validation that ya don’t find me creepy. ‘Specially after hearin’ my story.” He grinned, and your shoulders relaxed as you finished up your work.

“Ah, all done?” He pouted, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“You have another appointments, as well as my number.” You reasoned, and his eyes lit up.

“So, I could call ya?” He asked hopefully, and you found yourself nodding before you could comprehend what he said.

“Awesome. I’ll see ya around, Chickadee.” He hummed, digging into his wallet as he paid you upfront, letting his hand brush against yours, and yet you didn’t mind. All too fleeting, he sauntered away, but not before giving you a final look.

“The ball is in yer hands, in whichever ya want this to be. Although, I gotta up my game, if I wanna keep the competition at bay.” He winked, and then turned to leave the room. The wheels in your head had seemed to stop, before whirling again with realization.

So, he was aware of it all? The flirting and unwanted attention that you were gaining? As if he had to compete against anybody, you couldn’t help but think.

He wasn’t like the other “suitors” who were more aggressive and rude, you couldn’t help but think, your chest fluttering at the idea of him being your partner.

It’s been three days after that. You did shoot him a text, and almost immediately, he responded. He was forward with his interest, and you were still in a bit of confusion, why he, still a stranger, had decided to pursue you so quickly. You couldn’t help but think that the stars must have aligned in the both of your favor, or that it must have been fate, for you couldn’t help but start to like him, as well.

His forward approach, his respectful nature, the duality of his emotions, on how he could be so forward, and yet somehow kind of shy, he hunted at a distance, not too close or disrupting your boundaries, while never failing to look for you, or put on a show.

An excited voice rambled you out of your thoughts, a very, familiar excited voice, and your attention snapped towards the direction at the upcoming person, or people.

……………………………….

He sucked. He was a sucker, and he let his emotions get the best of him. Why did he have to spill out everything? Now she knew that he was an eager fool, and he didn’t mention the most important part; his two boys. Although not biologically his, blood didn’t matter, they were his sons.

Of course, while in his interest in pursuing, he was so caught up with classes, dancing, and raising his kids, a lot of things had passed his mind. He remembered laying in the darkness of his bedroom, staring up at the ceiling as his heart clenched.

What if she was only attracted to his dancing? The two of them had never made plans to meet outside of work, and if they did, would she be turned off by his more shy attitude? His more softer, meeker side? Unwanted thoughts swirled within his head.

He was making a mistake, he was putting too much time into a woman who he barely knew, and if she did like him, would she like his boys? They would always be his first and top priority, he could never lower their needs before a potential future partner.

Growling, he picked up his phone, searching for her contact. He began typing, and re-typing as he made sure that the sentence sounded perfect.

Me: I know it’s late, but do ya wanna go to the park, tomorrow around 9 am?

He bit his lip and pressed send. It’ll just be a hang out, he told himself. He’ll bring his sons, and if she reacted negatively, he would stop cold. Maybe move to another club. It was his fault for not mentioning that he had kids, and he didn’t blame her for not wanting to deal with him for not telling her in the first place. She was an adult, she could make her own decisions, and children might not be her priority, and he could respect that. The fated ding of his phone pulled him out of his thoughts.

Chickadee: Sure. It’s supposed to be chilly, tomorrow, so wear something warm.

His cheeks felt like fire as his heart warmed up from the thoughtfulness. A chuckle escaped his throat. Even while texting, she still used proper grammar, and he couldn’t help but find that adorable. He kind of hoped that she wouldn’t be upset that he had kids, and he wouldn’t force her into anything that she didn’t want, if he did break it to her that he wanted to see her as a partner.

He was a dumb mess, he told himself. However, he wouldn’t mind to have her as a good friend, if anything else. He couldn’t help but like her, and she had a blunt, straight to the point attitude mixed in with that sweetness.

……………….

“-lunch lady?!” A voice gasped in shock, the three familiar figures caught your full attention. Time stood still as you recognized the two small boys instantly, and behind them, stood none other than Taishiro. Surprise had hit you, but you couldn’t help but feel joy as little arms wrapped around your leg as you stopped the swing, seeing Eijirou glanced up at you with a toothy smile and bright eyes.

You couldn’t help but smile, pinching his cheeks a little as he giggled.

“Hey, um, small world?” Taishiro asked, breaking you out of your trance.

“I volunteered at the orphanage a while back. That’s amazing, I’m so glad to you two, again.” You explained, looking at the boys.

“It’s good to see you, as well.” Tamaki said softly, and you smiled at the slightly older boy who gripped Taishiro’s jacket.

“Oh, that’s pretty neat. Ya were in dietary?” He asked, sitting down on the swing next to you, Tamaki following closely. You looked down a bit shyly.

“Um, yeah. They were kind of short staffed, that year, and I was a pretty familiar face, so they asked, and I said yes.” You rambled, and he chuckled.

“You’re right about the pretty part.” He winked, and you huffed out a surprised laugh.

“Do you ever not flirt?” You inquired, and he grinned.

“I don’t flirt as much as ya think. Anyways, I wanted to know, if ya like to hang out with us, for the day?” He murmured softly at the end, and you felt yourself smile a little.

“I’d like to. It’s been a while since I’ve seen the boys. Although I missed the children, I couldn’t really stay, had college to go through, you know? It’s good that they’ve been adopted.” You rambled, watching Tamaki push Eijirou gently on the swing next to yours, the shyest of smiles graced the raven-hair’s features as the two were basically in their own little world.

“When I first came to this town, I didn’t really have anybody. So I took some time to think it over, and decided to adopt. They’ve been the light of my life for three years, now. Can’t imagine bein’ without ‘em.” He said softly, and you felt a burst of warmth envelop you.

“It’s good that they have a good dad. Do they know of your-?” You let the sentence hang, and he shook his head.

“Later. I doubt that they’ll judge, but I don’t want ‘em to know, just yet.”

It surprised you on how easy it was to make small talk, each of you opening up a little bit more. You fixed Tamaki’s coat, brushing the hair out of his eyes slightly when Taishiro had offered the group to get hot chocolate from the coffee shop that was near, chuckling as Eijirou’s eyes widened with pure glee.

Tamaki gripped your hand, Eijirou gripped Taishiro’s, and Taishiro held your free hand as the four of you crossed the street, and you couldn’t help but feel warmth at the domesticated atmosphere within your little group.

You wouldn’t mind if these sudden feelings stayed a little while longer.

#Taishiro Toyomitsu #Fatgum x reader #What are emotions?#mmmM?#No smut or anything just a couple of ppl realizing their emotions and stuff #Like they should have in ch. 1 #Calling myself out

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taeken-my-heart · 4 years

Text

Pig Pen

{I wrote this ages ago, probably two years ago, I can’t even remember anymore, haha. I privated it and now I’m putting it back on for those who wanted it since I can’t find the private post -.-)

Summary: An encounter with a pig pen couldn’t possibly lead to anything sexual...could it?

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: PWP. Don’t count on this being a regular thing, haha, this story just happened.

Word Count: 3221

“Honestly, this is not at all what I was expecting.”

“I also was not expecting to land waist deep in the Vasco’s pig pen, so this is a fun surprise.” Yoongi replied sarcastically.

“This was your idea, Yoongs.” You griped, pulling yourself to the edge of the muddy pen and heaving to a stand at the fence with a loud huff.

“Um, excuse me, sneaking into the party that I distinctly remember not being invited to, was definitely your idea.” Yoongi hissed, climbing his way up beside you and frowning down at his mud covered clothing. “These are my brand new shoes!”

“Yes, but sneaking through the neighbors back yard to get there was your idea. How did you not plan for this sort of a thing?”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware that they had a pig pen in the backyard of their suburban, white picket fence house. This has got to be against some kind of code.”

“Talk louder, I definitely want Mr. Vasco to find me out here covered in mud and whatever the hell else was swimming around in there.” You scowled.

“Why are you the worst person ever?” Yoongi seethed.

“You say that so often and yet you keep hanging out with me. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Peering around the edge of the house, you booked it for the front gate, pushing your way through with mud slicked hands and into a, thankfully, deserted cul de sac that housed mostly old people and Yoongi’s family at the very corner.

The two of you had been sneaking through the back yards and across roofs and fences to get to the party being held at Jackson’s place, but now there was no way you were going to show up like this. You were most definitely covered in mud and pig crap.

“Come on,” Yoongi sighed, “let’s go to my place and we’ll get cleaned up."

After stepping into the garage of Yoongi’s house he ordered you to wait while he went to go get towels. You stood in the garage pouting so that when he came back he would know just how unhappy you were with him making you wait like a dog while he was allowed to go in. He returned a few minutes later in just his boxers with a towel in hand.

"I’m gonna go inside and wash off. You strip down here and put your stuff in the sink. We’ll put our clothes through the wash once we’re both clean. You know where the guest bathroom is.”

The hot water was a welcome relief as you washed the mud from your legs and arms, careful to keep your face and hair out of the spray. You’d been lucky to only land in waist deep so clean up was relatively easy. After toweling down and wrapping yourself up warm you walked back towards Yoongi’s room, pausing outside the door to knock before stepping inside.

“Don’t you knock?” Yoongi growled, pulling his boxers up and over his hips quickly and you sighed, rolling your eyes.

“It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before. Besides, I did knock.”

“You haven’t seen me naked since we were 5; things don’t exactly look the same. Also, I don’t know how they do things on your planet, but here it’s common practice to wait until told to enter. In an effort to avoid awkward situations, much like this one."

"Is this considered awkward?” You asked, clucking your tongue in annoyance.

Yoongi glared at you before noticing you were still only wearing a towel and rubbing his eyes. “Where are your clothes, Y/N?”

“Well you see, Yoongles, when we fell into the pile of mud and pig slop I was unfortunately only wearing one set of clothing. Next time I’ll think ahead. Let me borrow something.”

Yoongi muttered something angrily before grabbing a baggy t-shirt and throwing it to you. You quickly dropped the towel, watching as Yoongi’s eyes bugged before pulling the shirt over your head and letting it drop to the middle of your thighs. “You act like you’ve never seen a naked woman before.” You chuckled at Yoongi’s pink tinted cheeks.

“I have! I’ve just never seen your naked body before.” He growled, pulling on a pair of grey sweats.

“Pretty rocking, right?” You gloated.

Yoongi rolled his eyes, cheeks burning. “Why do you always have to make things weird?”

“Why does finding my body attractive have to be weird?” You pouted, “You’re a guy, I’m a girl. It’s only natural.”

“You’re not a girl,” Yoongi insisted, “You’re my best friend. You’re automatically disqualified from the girl category.”

You scoffed, sitting on the edge of his bed and folding one leg over the other. “That’s stupid, I’m not any less of a woman just because you’re not man enough to acknowledge it. I’m a woman and have needs like everyone else.”

“What the hell is happening?” Yoongi frowned, looking at you in confusion.

"I’m just saying.“ You shrugged. "Also, that pre game may or may not be loosening my tongue a little.”

"Not once in your life has your tongue been anything less than loose so I don’t know what kind of bull you’re spewing right now.“ Yoongi scoffed and you mimicked him childishly before sprawling backwards on his bed.

Yoongi groaned, turning his face away from you and shoving his hands in the pockets of his baggy sweat pants. "Why are you laying like that? You’re not wearing any underwear so I can see everything. It’s like you're trying to tempt me or something!”

"Is it working?“ You smirked, lifting your head to look at him.

Yoongi glared at you, cheeks still a lovely hue of pink contrasting against his beautiful, lightly tanned skin. "You’re an ass, you know that?”

Despite his words he came and sat beside you, knocking your leg out of his way with his knuckles and stared at the bedroom door in question. “So, I suppose we’re not going to the party?”

You shook your head, pulling softly at the ends of your hair and chewing on your bottom lip. “I’m not wearing any pants or underwear, Yoongs,” you whispered, “I’m not exactly fit for a party.”

“I would say you’re wearing exactly what you should be wearing for a college kegger, actually.” He murmured, looking down at you, his t-shirt riding further up your legs as you huffed.

You looked at him in curiosity as his vision traveled slowly up your legs, over your torso, pausing at your breasts before landing carefully on your face. You smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Finally noticing I’m a girl?”

“Whatever.” He scoffed, looking away from you and you watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

“Are you nervous?” You asked, sitting up in surprise.

Yoongi looked at you, frown etched into his brow. “Why would I be nervous?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, “you just seem strange.”

“Well, you are just sitting on my bed in nothing but my t-shirt. You’re probably getting your butt crust all over my duvet.”

“Ew, I do not have butt crust!” You complained, smacking his shoulder, “Way to ruin a moment.”

“A moment?” He asked, looking at you.

“Sure. Kind of feels like we’re having a moment…or something.”

“Or something.” He mumbled. You hadn’t noticed how close you’d drifted to him until you could suddenly feel his breath on your cheeks. You tried not to shiver. “What’s happening right now?”

“Blame it on the alcohol.” You murmured.

“There are some bridges people shouldn’t cross.” He whispered as your face hovered right in front of his.

“Since when did you follow rules?”

Yoongi smirked before you finally took ownership of his mouth. You were probably going to regret this in the morning. While you were sure there’d always been a mutual attraction, you’d always maintained a “just friends” mantra that had been working for the two of you.

All through childhood, middle school, and high school you’d been friends. The kind that your mother called weird because 90% of the time your friendship was just the two of you insulting one another. It was a strange dynamic but it worked. You were both equally sarcastic and where Yoongi was sometimes scathing you were sassy and it just flowed.

This was a part of your relationship you’d never broached. You’d always wondered if it would happen, after all, bickering is just another level of sexual tension so you knew it could be possible to make this decision, but you certainly didn’t see it happening like this. You were definitely going to regret this tomorrow, but what the hell.

The ebb and flow of his mouth on yours, pulling you further into him like a moth to a flame. This was dangerous territory but you couldn’t stop yourself. Couldn’t stop trembling fingers from finding their way to the ends of his hair, threading through his still damp locks and tugging slightly.

You exhaled sharply as you felt a tug of his hands around your waist, pulling you into his lap, the heat of your bodies joining and causing a moan from Yoongi’s mouth to fall against your tongue. You could feel the heat traveling from the seat of his pants and into your center.

Yoongi’s fingers traced patterns on your thighs as you kissed, breath turning shallow as you smoothed your hands down his chest, resting against the strings of his sweats. His fingers dug into the flesh of your upper thighs, just below your ass and you gasped, rolling your hips into his.

Yoongi groaned, pulling away from your mouth and you quickly suctioned your lips to his neck, “What has gotten into you?” He mumbled, pulling your pelvis flush against his. You could feel the outline of his dick through his pants and you rocked against him once more.

“I think I’m ovulating.” You murmured.

“Gross.” He scoffed and you rolled our eyes, tilting his face towards yours and sucking his bottom lip into your mouth, nipping it hard.

“It’s perfectly natural, Yoongi,” you replied as he hissed, “my body is programmed this way. And right now, it’s telling me to let you fill me up.”

“You can’t say things like that.” Yoongi rasped.

“Why not?” You asked, sucking a bruise into the juncture of his neck and shoulder. He shuddered beneath you.

“Because I’ll end up busting a nut before I even get inside you.” You moaned at the thought, rolling your hips against his once more. “You know what?” Yoongi replied, his voice husky and deep, “forget this.”

Before you could ask what he meant he’d flipped you onto your back and crawled possessively over your body as he took control of your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and grinding his hips deep into your own. You moaned, the t-shirt he’d lent you was doing nothing to restrict the sensation of his groin rubbing against your clit and you ached for more.

The feeling of his hands against your waist made you shiver and you practically yelped as he ground himself deep into you. “Get this off.” He choked, pawing at the t-shirt now hiked to the center of your abdomen and you let him tug it up and over your head before throwing it off somewhere in the distance. “Your tits are amazing.” He murmured and before you could reply he was taking your left nipple into his mouth and sucking a moan from your lungs.

“Not fair,” your complained, “why am I the only one naked?”

“Just let me enjoy this for a second, will you? Here.” He tugged his shirt off and threw it on the floor before returning to your breast and sucking blooming hues of pink and purple.

You ran your nails across his back and he hissed, growling up at you. “I hate when girls do that.”

“What the hell kind of man are you?” You moaned as he turned his attention to the next breast, pinching the nipple before running his teeth across it.

“The kind that doesn’t like to look like he got mauled by a bear.”

“You’re so annoying.” You gasped as he gave an extra hard suck to your nipple before kissing his way down your stomach.

“Says the bear.” He murmured and you shivered, his breath hitting a part of your body you never once thought your pain in the ass best friend would ever have his face right beside. Then again, this whole evening was turning out to be something completely unexpected. You blamed all the extra alcohol you’d consumed but really, you were just horny as hell and he was hot. You were way passed the point of no return so you might as well just enjoy the ride.

“What are you doing?” You asked as he positioned his face at your entrance and he scowled up at you.

“Are you seriously asking that?”

“I just didn’t peg you as such a giving lover.” You shrugged.

“We’ll see who’s being pegged.” He replied nonchalantly.

“Oh geez, did you seriously just say that?” You blinked in embarrassment and he smirked before leaning forward and licking a broad strip up your center.

“Yoongi.” You breathed, pulse picking up and you thread your fingers through his hair as he began a steady pace, pulling your clit into his mouth and sucking. You were sure he was going to make fun of the sounds you were making tomorrow morning but right now you couldn’t help it.

He set a punishing pace, to the point you thought you might cry from ecstasy when suddenly he was pulling back and you frowned down at him. “What the hell, Yoongi?”

“I can’t wait any longer.” He mumbled, hastily pushing his pants and boxers down his legs. “You got a condom?”

“What if I said I didn’t?” You asked, biting your bottom lip and Yoongi stilled, staring at you in agony.

“Please tell me you’re joking because I don’t have any.” He replied, gripping himself as he stood at the end of the bed.

“Just checking.” You smirked, leaning across the bed to grab for a condom in your earlier discarded purse.

“You’re such an ass,” Yoongi hissed, taking the condom from you and rolling it down his length. “You’re gonna pay for that.”

“Mmm, make me pay, baby.” You hummed.

He may have been a little on the gangly side, but watching his figure loom over you as he made his way up your body and kissed you deeply was incredibly exhilarating. His fingers thread through your hair, teasing your tongue with his own before pulling back and grabbing his length to guide to your entrance.

“Ready?” He asked breathily and you nodded, shivering as you felt the head slide along your entrance before he began pushing in slowly.

It had honestly been a while since you’d last had sex so the stretch burned a little. His breathing was heavy, chest making contact with your own as he continued to push slowly into you until your hips met and he stilled, looking up at you.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, “what’s happening right now?”

The two of you looked at each other and laughed. “I don’t know, but it feels good.” You said, wrapping your legs around his waist and he sunk deeper inside you with a groan.

“You feel incredible.” He panted, pulling slowly out of you before thrusting back inside and you gasped, grabbing a handful of his ass to help push him further.

“So do you.” You admitted. His hands left your hips to grip the bars of his bed frame above you and he began a steady pace; in and out, in and out, cock sliding along your walls and making you hiss. “Wow, you’re actually really good at this.”

“Why do you sound so surprised?” Yoongi frowned, thrusting in harder and you felt yourself slip up the bed, hands reaching out to hold yourself away from the bedframe.

“You’re just so small and angry, never imagined you being so aware of where the g-spot is, you know?”

“You’re honestly killing the mood right now. I can feel myself going flaccid.” He grumbled.

“Sorry, sorry.” You murmured. Yoongi resumed his pace, breathes quickening and you inhaled sharply as he prodded your favorite spot repeatedly. You had the feeling it was an accident, he didn’t seem all that aware of what he was hitting with the tip of his penis, eyes squeezed shut and chest heaving with exertion.

“You should kiss me or something, it’s weird not saying anything.”

“You’re so needy.” He complained, blinking down at you but kissing you deeply anyway. “Are you close?” He panted.

“Kind of?” You moaned as he ground against your clit in a downward motion, “If you keep doing that it won’t be long.”

“Good, because I won’t last much longer.” He moaned, picking up his pace, making sure to repeat the grinding action that had you seeing stars. You could feel the edge closing in and you continued your encouragements, breathes of his name leaving your mouth in rapid succession and suddenly you were exploding, body shivering, hips bucking as your orgasm washed over you and you felt Yoongi pick up his pace only to feel him shudder as he released inside of you and flopped heavily across your body as his orgasm overcame him.

Your fingers and toes were still tingling when you began to feel uncomfortable with Yoongi’s weight still resting on top of you. “Can you get off? You’re kind of sweaty.”

“Speak for yourself.” He replied, raising on wobbly arms and slipping out of you with a small hiss. He stood quickly, making his way to the bathroom to clean up before returning to the bed and you ran to the bathroom to pee. There was no way you were gonna get a UTI just because you let your best friend stick his dick inside you on a whim. Today might have been bad decision day, but not that bad.

After finishing your business you walked back into the bedroom to find Yoongi laying on his bed checking the messages on his phone and you began to search for his shirt. “What are you doing?” He asked, just as you’d slipped his shirt back over your head.

“I thought you’d want me to go?” You supplied. Yoongi scoffed, sitting up and grabbing your hand, pulling you down onto the mattress beside him.

“I like to cuddle after sex.” He murmured, burying his nose in the back of your hair and grabbing your boob beneath his shirt. It wasn’t even sexual either, it was like he just wanted something to hold.

“Are we gonna talk about what just happened?” You questioned as his breathing began to even out.

“What’s to talk about?” He murmured softly, “we had sex, it was good; we should do it again sometime. Let’s just figure out details tomorrow. I’m honestly exhausted so unless you’re up for round 2, which you’ll have to wait for because I’ve got a refraction time of 40 minutes, then let’s just sleep and deal with the implications tomorrow.”

“Fine by me.” You said, pulling the blankets up to your chin and dozing off. You didn’t really want to talk about it right now, anyway.

#yoongi scenario #yoongi smut #yoongi f2l #repost

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jayceelynd · 4 years

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Pizza||Jaycee and Ben

Discord thread featuring: Jaycee and @johnstonivb

When: September 28, 2020 Where: Jaycee’s House Mentions: None Description: Jaycee talks to Ben in the group chat, and agree to meet up for pizza, ice cream, and Netflix. Jay text’s him her info and then he went to her hosue. Trigger Warnings: NSFW NSFW annnnd NSFW Daddy Kink ;)

iMessage:

Jaycee: Hey, address see you soon

Ben: Cheers! I’ll see you soon. Want me to bring anything?

Jaycee: Just yourself unless you have a preference on Ben and Jerry’s

I got Netflix and Chilled cause I thought it sounded cute but it’s really good and I have Vanilla Toffee Bar Crunch

Ben: Netflix and Chilled? That does sound cute. I’m happy with those! I’m on my way now

Jaycee: I look forward to it

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Jaycee: Jaycee hadn’t hung out with anyone lately since her breakup and decided to rush and take a quick shower. I mean let’s be honest she’s been in a funk and it shows! Taking care of everything she threw on a cropped top, with low riding sweats to match. Barefoot she ran downstairs just in time for the pizza to arrive. Opening the door she saw Ben walking up her steps as well. “Thank you, keep the change!” She smiled handing the guy a hundred dollar bill. “Hey, did you have any trouble finding me?” She smirked as they walked into her house. Jaycee was a billionaire and had a huge house, but was always down to earth. She couldn’t stand anyone being a snob over money, and had no problems calling them out on it. “So we can watch movies in the living room orrr we could go to the theater room.” Taking him in she smirked as she admired his features, tilting her head. It felt good to not be sitting at home alone, and to talk to a human instead of her dogs and cats.

Ben: When he got the address he wasn’t sure what to expect. He still hadn’t figured out the different areas and what they all meant. He was sure what he was expecting but it wasn’t a house this big, not in New York, all the places he’d seen in his very limited time in the country had only been apartments. But Ben grew up in a house like this, so he had a Synge sense of comfortableness even though he’d never been here. Walking up to the door he flashed a toothy grin at the woman, “think I’d have to be blind to miss this place mate.” He gave a light laugh and followed her inside, his eyes drifting down as he took in her outfit and smirked to himself, nice. He was glad he decided to keep it casual too with his all black look. He took his hat off and ran a hand through his hair before putting it back on. He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, “whichever you’re more comfortable with. But even if we don’t sit in it, do you mind if I have a look at the theatre room? I sort of miss mine if I’m being honest with you.”

Jaycee: Biting the tip of her tongue, as she smiled, watching him run his fingers through his hair. His accent only making her smile more, she knew her southern accent was pretty strong and probably sounded like an idiot at times. “We can just go in there, and enjoy some amazing pizza and the ice cream is in the little freezer anyways.” She tilted her head for him to follow her as she walked around the stairs into a dark room with a huge couch in the back and a step down one that you could lay on. Her soft faux fur extra soft blanket already on the lower area. “Make yourself at home, there’s a bar with candy and alcohol in the side room through that door. Or in the fridge I have beer, water, and sodas” she sat the pizza down and grabbed more pillows for them to lounge back against. “What would you like to drink? Oh and I smoke weed if that bothers you I can hold off.” Her small frame standing in front of him as she looked up at him waiting for an answer, a soft smile forming on her full lips.

Ben: He smiled and nodded, “what kind of pizza is it?” He asked curiously as he walked into the theatre, he let out an impressed whistle as he reached down and hesitated before he took his shoes off, not wanting to track anything into to the room and ruin the carpet and couch, but also unsure about how he felt exposing part of his leg like that. He shook away the doubt, he was trying to be more confident with himself and he slipped off the shoes. “Just a beer sounds great.” He looked down at the woman and smiled as she looked up at him. “I don’t mind you smoking, if you don’t mind me joining in?” He wasn’t sure how much was too much to ask for. He was already taking her food and drinks and watching Netflix in her home. But he figured he wouldn’t be here if she really minded. He moved towards the mini fridge and grabbed the beer as she finished setting up e area, feeling a little useless. “What do you want to drink?”

Jaycee: ”I got half veggie and half loaded supreme.. I wasn’t sure what you liked. But you’re in luck that I’m a great cook and have some pasta I made everything from scratch at dinner.. And I’m a rambler just.. tell me to stop..” She blushed a bit with her shoulders shrugging, bringing her already short cropped top up higher. A soft giggle bubbles from up from her toned stomach. Being cautious not to flash him just yet, she was dressed for comfort so of course there was no bra. Jaycee would never treat anyone different for anything like a prosthetic. “I am all for smoking with a friend, sharing is very caring when there’s weed involved.” She winked and giggled in answering him. Jaycee was a giver at heart, even if she barely knows someone. Looking around at the room she smiled, thankful she was able to have her dads house. “A beer sounds great, thank you.” She sat down and leaned against the back with the huge pillows. He was sweet to offer to get her a drink in her own house, hearing her grandma scolding her for not having it ready.

Ben: “Loaded supreme sounds good!” He exclaimed with a smile before his face morphed into a rather impressed look, “you can make pasta from scratch? Where have you been all my life?” He let out a deep chuckle before shaking his head, “you don’t have to apologize. It’s kind of cute.” He admitted with a small smirk before moving to grab the drinks. He walked over and sat next to her handing her one, as he sat he was very conscious to leave a gap between the two of them, although he wasn’t sure how long it would necessarily last. “So what do you feel like watching?”

Jaycee: Jaycee leaned her head back laughing. “I mean I am Italian so I think my Nona June would flip if I didn’t learn from her.” Winking she sat back up and opened the pizza box. Yes she was a southern bell that was Italian, it happens. Blushing at him saying it was kinda cute, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Thank you.” She smiled over at him and took the beer, and took a swig before placing it between her thighs. Grabbing a slice of pizza and placing it on a paper plate they gave them with the pizza. “I am into anything from horror to classic movies. What do you feel like watching?” She bumped her shoulder to his with a soft chuckle.

Ben: He smiled and nodded, “I guess that makes sense then.” He shrugged his shoulders slightly, “I’m not a terrible cook. I can follow a recipe, but that’s about it.” The Australian offered with a small laugh. He nodded his head in a small your welcome gesture, “I’m the one who should be thanking you mate.” He took a sip of his own beer and placed the drink next to him before grabbing a piece of pizza. “Horror sounds good to me.” Nodded his head along and bumped her shoulder back with his, “sure you won’t get too scared?” He teased.

Jaycee: ”Hey, that’s still something. If you can follow a recipe you’re doing better than most guys..” she chuckled softly, scrunching her nose to show she was teasing him. Grabbing the remote she started the programs up. “Do you like Annabel?” She asked him as she pulled her full bottom lip between her teeth. “And if I do?” She blushed but in a playful bratty tone. “I have been known to smack a time or two when scared..” she grabbed a slice and took a bite. Once she swallowed she took a sip, running her tongue up under her top lips over her teeth.

Ben: Ben smiled and tilted his head slightly, “yeah I guess you're right.” He offered with a smiled before straightening his head, and grabbing a piece of pizza, “Annabelle sounds good.” He raised an eye brow as she spoke and carefully watched the tongue that ran along her teeth. A smirk formed on his face as he puffed his chest out slightly, flexing his arms a little until the material of his sweater tightened around his arms. “If you do, I’ll protect you princess.” He teased before relaxing his posture and taking a bite of the pizza. “Mmm pizza.”

Jaycee: Clicking play when he said it was good and couldn’t help but enjoy the view of his muscles flexing, looking like the material would tear. Enjoying the nickname she flipped her long hair off of her shoulder, causing her cropped top to raise. Possibly showing some under boob. Laughing softly as she took another bite, using a napkin to cover her mouth as she chewed. “Can never go wrong with New York pizza..” her groan sounding a bit sexual, as she took another bite. “I hated when my Nan would get me porcelain dolls, I’d always put them in my closet..” she admitted as she twirled the string to her low riding sweats.

Ben: Ben tried his best not to stare at the glimpse of under boob she showed. He was in her house, eating her pizza, watching a movie and going to smoke with her. He didn’t want to seem like a creep on top of it and over step his welcome. But the way she laughed and moaned was definite making that difficult. He laughed at her comment and ran a hand through his hair, “yeah nah i probably would’ve done the same.”

Jaycee: After finishing her slice she rolled them a blunt. This weed always made her feel needy, and probably wasn’t a good idea. But she didn’t care, he was fun to hang out with and easy to talk to. Running her tongue slowly over the blunt paper before sealing it. Scooting closer to him, her chest pressed against his shoulder. “You are around to love this strain, it feels like you’re floating and all that..” Jaycee was a flirt and even more so a brat. She enjoyed getting anyone she liked riled up and needy for her. Placing the blunt between her lips, she lit it pulling from it taking a long pull holding the smoke in and handing him the blunt. Tilting her head back, elongating her neck she blew out a huge cloud slowly from her lips. Eyes closed as she enjoyed the taste of weed in her blueberry flavored blunt paper humming. “What do you think?” She asked letting her head slowly turn back to his, a smirk forming on her lips.

Ben: A slow smirk spread across his face as he watched her get the blunt ready and realized she was teasing him on purpose. Two could play at that game. Ben could never turn down a challenge, especially when the challenge looked this good. He took the blunt and hummed around it as he realized it was blueberry flavored, that was a nice touch. Holding it for just a moment he turned fo her and maintained eye contact as he exhaled, with a deep moan. His eyes flicked up and down her body before landing back on the blunt in his hand as he handed it over. His voice was a little gravelly as he spoke, “delicious.”

Jaycee: Okay, he caught on to her little teasing fun and definitely was making even more fun. Her hand resting on his broad shoulder that was pressed between her tiny yet perky tits. “Yeah? You like that?” She asked as her eyes were locked on his lips while watching him scan her bod. Leaving the blunt in his hand she placed her free hand on his and took a hit while her held it. Her nipples are visibly hard at this point and wishing she was wearing panties because now her sweats were about to dampen. Her thighs rested against his, completely relaxed near him.

Ben: He felt himself leaning into her touch, eyes dropping and landing on her full lips. He felt his mouth go dry as she took a drag from his hand and felt his erection pressing against his pants. He thanked whatever power convinced him to wear sweat pants instead of jeans. He put down the pizza he had been holding and moved his free arm to rest behind her, bringing their faces much closer. “Yes, I like that.” He brought the blunt up to his mouth and took another drag eyes dropping once again to scan her body. “A lot.”

Jaycee: Her hand resting the center of his chest as she was brought closer to him, the air catching in her throat. Her nose rubbing against his, feeling his breath against her lips. Her tiny fingers moved from his chest to trace his jawline, lips parted as she squeezed her thighs together. “Me too.” She whispered her breathe touch his lips. Her nipples hardening more as his eyes roamed her body again. Licking her lips, causing the tip of her tongue barely touch his lips. A soft hum filling the space between them. Finger tips gently ran from his jawline, over the pulse of his neck. Letting her eyes follow her hand as she let her hand slide between his pecks and working their way down to his chiseled abs. Fuck he was solid and if he didn’t make a move it was going to kill her. “You want to kiss me?”

Ben: The hand behind her back dropped lower until he was grabbing the ass that had been exposed by her movement. He swallowed as he watched her lick her lips and felt the edge of her tongue on his mouth. As her fingers traced his jaw he took the chance to look her over again, this time much slower and deliberately as he thought of all the things he could do. Eyes flicking back up to maintain eye contact as she questioned him he tilted his head and leaned impossibly closer before moving to the side last second and whispering in her ear, “only if you ask me nicely.”

Jaycee: When he grabbed her ass, it took everything in her not to moan. Jaycees sweats were definitely soaked with need. Her hand running over his abs as she was sure to be tasting his lips but then, the next thing she noticed. His lips were near her ear, softly groaning at his words. Making a fist in his sweater gently tugging. Her lips brushing over his ear as she softly whispers breathlessly. “Pretty pretty please..” Grazing her teeth over his ear lobe. “Kiss me.”

Ben: Hearing her groan and then beg for him only made his erection grow and he felt his boxers tighten. Finally hearing her ask him to kiss her was enough to send him over the edge. One hand moved up to push a loose strand of hair behind her ear as he surged forward and kissed her lips. Melting into it he let out a deep moan as the hand that was still on her ass squeezed and pulled her closer, pulling her onto his lap.

Jaycee: Her moans mixing with his as she kissed him back, straddling him when he pulled her into his lap. Feeling his erection against her wet warmth, material of clothing being a barrier. Her full lips massaging his, letting her tongue trace his lips wanting a taste. Her hands sliding from his pecks, up into his hair. His hat falling onto the couch behind them, pressing her center against his. Rocking her hips lightly against his every once in awhile.

Ben: He could feel that the material of her pants was wet and it was driving him crazy. He felt himself grind is hips forward as she rocked on him needing more. He but at her full bottom lip and moved to trail kisses along her jaw, and nibbled on her ear before trailing kisses down her neck and sucking on her pressure point.

Jaycee: Whimpering as he bit her bottom lip, lolling her head back and to the side as he ravished her neck. Needing to feel more, she greedily pressed her her center into him. Her breathing was shaky as her hands tightened in his hair. Trembling with anticipation of what his next move was. He was sucking and nibbling in all the right places, her hips jerking as she rolled them against his own. She swore she could feel him throbbing with need, knowing he was going to stretch her deliciously.

Ben: His hands started on her waist and trailed up her exposed stomach, moving to cup and squeeze her breasts. Moaning slightly as he felt the smooth skin under his hands. His breathing was becoming heavier, he wanted her right her and now. He started tugging at her top, pulling it up as he grinded against her. "You are so fucking gorgeous." His voice wasn't much more than a whisper as his eyes raked over her in awe.

Jaycee: His hands were leaving goosebumps in their travel. “Fuck..” she hissed as he massaged her breasts. Running her tiny hands over his that were on her breast, she continued to grind against him. Moans with heavy slow panting was escaping her lip, while her hands slide up into her long hair. Watching him look at her as if she was really gorgeous. The need to see his chest, knowing he was ripped from what she could feel over his sweater. “Please let me see you..” she groaned, her hands moving to his sweater tugging it up.

Ben: His panting and heavy breathing was working in tandem with hers, and he groaned slightly as he pulled back. Not enough to fully disconnect but enough to pull his sweater off, revealing his chiseled chest as he surged forward again to kiss her, this time he pushed on her body, taking advantage of the massive couch as he pushed her to be laying down propping himself up with one arm to avoid crushing her.

Jaycee: Jaycee’s hands roamed his chiseled chest and abs, admiring every definition of his body. Her hands cupping his face as she giggled while he laid her onto her back. Spreading her legs so he’s fit where they both wanted him. Her eyes were dark with need and desire, and he was so fucking sexy. Jaycee had recently taken hormones to harvest eggs for when she was ready to have kids, due to her fertility problems. “Do you have a condom..?” She whispered against his lips before kissing down his jawline, her teeth nipping and scraping over his stubble. Her hands running down his back, slowly making their way to his lower back. Both of her hands slid into his sweats and boxers before squeezing tightly. Being impatient and greedy, raising her center up to grind against his hard cock.

Ben: God she made it hard to pull away, he pressed into her as he grounded into him and nodded dumbly, one thing about Ben was that he was always prepared. Not that he expected tonight to lead here but he always kept a condom in his wallet just in case of emergencies, even if that emergency is lending it to someone else. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the wallet and protection, groaning at the feelings. He swiftly took his pants off, bringing the boxers with them so he was before her naked. Usually right about now he’d be rather self conscious but he was so caught up in everything that he didn’t mind as he started to put the condom on, his hand stopped as he went to roll it down his length and he looked up smirking at the woman. His eyes dark with desire were almost black as he grabbed her hand and placed it on the condom, hoping the look he gave her would be enough for her to get the hint. At the same time one of his hands moved to pull down her pants. He was done waiting now.

Jaycee: Jaycee took him in completely, every inch of him was beyond beautiful. Not once did she react to his leg, that’s not what makes a person. He was sexy just the way he was. “You’re so fucking sexy..” she moaned as she watched him roll the condom over his erection. Pulling the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth as she looked up at him with needy yet innocent eyes. Her hips raising as he slid her pants off, revealing that she wasn’t wearing any panties and how soaked she was for him. Squeezing his cock as she began to slowly stroke his length, spreading her legs for him. Letting him see her glistening heat, fuck she thought as her walls clenched around nothing, needing to feel his touch anywhere on her body at this point. “Ben..” she moaned, looking up at him still with begging eyes. Her body was trembling with need, and desire.

Ben: The look in her eyes was driving Ben mental, and when he saw she wasn't wearing any panties he grinned at the sight of her. She was so wet already, it only boosted his ego and made him want her even more. His eyes rolled back as she stroked his cock, "god" and then hearing her beg his name was enough to tip him over the edge. As soon as the condom was properly on he lined himself up with her core and started pumping into her. Not bothering to ease into it as he let his desire take over.

Jaycee: The way he was reacting to her was driving her crazy. Gasping at how he began thrusting into her, her nails scraping down his back. Raising her hip, meeting him thrust for thrust. “Fuck.. Ben..” she moaned, purposely tightening her walls around him only to groan from the pleasure. Making a fist in his hair to pull his head back as she kissed him with aggressive need. “So fucking deep..” she hissed out in a whimpering tone.

Ben: He loved the feeling of her nails scraping over his back and the way she raised her hips for him to meet. “That’s it baby” he coaxed her as he kept pumping, “fuck you feel so good.” He groaned at how tight and wet she was. The fact he caused this almost as good as the actual feeling. He kissed her just as aggressive before his tongue ran over her bottom lip, begging for entrance, needing more of her.

Jaycee: Fuck she loved hearing him praise her, as she would keep him deep every time he’d sink into her. Her nails making their way to his ass, loving when he was so damn deep. Her lips parting to grant him access, moans flowing from her mouth to his. His chest rubbing over her harden nipples. Spreading her legs wider wanting all of him inside of her she groaned out in a sharp gasp. “Fu-fuck..” she cried out as licked up the roof of his mouth.

Ben: She was so gorgeous and felt so fucking good he felt himself speeding up. Her moans and sounds were intoxicating and he wanted to make her scream. “Jaycee.” He grunted between thrusts, “oh fuck.” He kept going and kept attacking her with kisses on her mouth and jawline, occasionally moving to her neck. When she spread her legs wider he grabbed one of them and pulled it up in a swift motion, bringing her impossibly closer. His breathing was hard and labored.

Jaycee: A high pitch whimpering sound came from her tiny frame as he brought her closer still. Her name being moaned as he thrusted fasted, feeling his sack slap against her ass. “Ben.. oh god..” she cried out as she wrapped her arms over his shoulders lazily, her body trembling with pleasure. Her walls quaking around his thick length that was pounding into her tight heat. Jaycee was holding onto him tightly as she fought the need to orgasm. She was a bratty sub and did as she was told. “Oh, fuck. Please don’t stop, please..” a messy whispering kiss as her breathing was so shaky.

Ben: “Louder.” He commanded as he kept thrusting into her, letting his controlling dominative side show. He grabbed both her legs and lifted them up over his shoulders, increasing the angle. “That’s right baby, beg me.” He was getting off on her responses and wanted her to really beg before he let her cum.

Jaycee: Oh fuck she was right there, her body was shaking as she fought off her release. Her moans and crying out in pleasure were now screams. Looking up at him completely lost in pleasure, her lips parted as each thrust was taking her breath away. Jaycee’s eyes rolling to the back of her head every once in a while. Okay Daddy she thought to herself. Her pussy tightening over his cock, indicating she was right there. Completely at his mercy as he was in control. “Pl.” licking her lips as her eyes had an innocent look as she begged. “Please let me come, feels so fucking good.. I want to cum all over your cock” her screams got louder the longer she held off. Pain of needing a release and also enhancing pleasure. “You know you want to feel my pussy milk you of every last drop.”

Ben: He groaned and moaned as she got louder, feeling himself getting louder in turn as he kept pounding into her, loving how she was taking all of his length every time like a good girl. He was so close to finishing but he needed her to finish first, he needed to see just what he could do to her. “Please who?” He voice practically a growl as he was so close to the edge. He wanted to see if she’d call him daddy with out having to tell her explicitly. The way she was offering herself up so willingly, was driving him crazy.

Jaycee: Her legs wrapped around him as he kept pounding into her, moans and guttural moaning was falling from her lips. “Fuck.. Daddy I need to cum..” she cried out of frustration with moans quickly following. Her body was shaking harder knowing she was about to lose her hold, leaking her greedy cum. “I’m..” gasping, clawing at his back. “Please.. Daddy, let me..” she continued to beg, her toes locked in a tight curl. Jaycee furrowed her brows as she was trying to hold off, gasping for sharp breaths. “Oh, fuck..” her back arched changing the angle, the head of his cock hitting her walls and g spot just right. Oh fuck, she’s going to squirt with all of this build up and the way he was controlling her. Jaycee was completely subbed out, and at his mercy.

Ben: His breathing bitched slightly as she called him his favorite name and begged him. He could definitely get use to the sound of that. “Okay baby girl, cum now. Cum for daddy.” He commanded her again as he kept pounding. Unrelenting with his pressure and speed, doing his best to drive her over the edge. He could feel himself being so close too, but he wanted her to cum first, needed to put her in her place before he came inside her.

Jaycee: The second her told her to cum for daddy, her release spilled out of her as she screamed his name. Nails scraping down fresh scratches. “Daddy, it feels so fucking good. I want to feel you cum in me.” She gasped as she continued to ride out her orgasm, feeling another follow pursuit. Her body shaking so hard as her pussy clamped tightly against his cock, milking him of his seed.

Ben: Hearing her scream and call him daddy, combined with the clenching of her dripping pussy around his throbbing length was enough to finally send him over. With a final buck he felt himself finish in her. He let out a yell of pleasure as his head rolled forward and he relaxed his arms slightly, before pulling out. He lay next to her and have her a lazy lope sided grin before placing a kiss to her temple. Definitely not where he expected his night to end, but he was not complaining at all.

Jaycee: Her second orgasm wrecked her as she could still feel him pulsing and coming inside of her, even through the condom. The sounds coming out of him as he came inside of her, caused her to groan out of appreciation. Snuggling into his side after he kissed her temple. Running the tip of her fingers over the definition of his abs and pecks. Jaycee did not plan on this happening but was definitely okay with it happening. Breathing hard and deep, trying to catch her breath. Flattening her hand over the peck closes to her cheek.

Ben: laying there he tried to focus on steadying his breathing, “wow.” He couldn’t help but let out with a slight chuckle as one hand came up to run through his hair and then wrap across both his body and hers. “I think the pizza might be getting cold.” He joked about but made no indication of moving or actually wanting to get up.

Jaycee: Her breathing was slowing down and she hummed at his statement. “Amazing.” She reported to his wow snuggling her face into his chest, giggling at his next words. Her knee and thigh rested between his. “It’s a good thing I have a microwave or an oven.” She teased him, completely comfortable not even caring if the food got wasted at this point. “I don’t want to move.”

#Discord: Ben #Ben #Pizza Nights

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timelordthirteen · 5 years

Text

In All Things 3/?

Mr. Gold/BelleFrench, Explicit (eventually)

Summary: A Rumbelle arranged marriage AU.

Chapter Summary: Immediately after the wedding, Gold and Belle depart and spend a slightly awkward carriage ride together.

Notes: This got so damn long. Oops. Have some idiots trying to figure out how to person around each other.

[AO3]

Previous: [1] [2]

As soon as Lord Gold announced their departure, Avonlea became a flurry of activity.

Astrid fretted about everything. She flitted between chests and dressers in Belle’s chambers, directing two other maids until as many of Belle’s dresses, underclothes, and shoes were packed as possible. The steward, Edmund, was in a tizzy as his usual authority was usurped by the presence of Gold. A fine carriage pulled by four horses waited at the front steps of the manor, with a small wagon behind it for the bulk of Belle’s belongings.

“Do you want me to pack the red dress?” Astrid asked, holding up the garment in question with the bulky skirt draped over her arm.

Belle made a face at the garish dress with its layers of frills and ribbons, and shook her head. “Heaven’s no!”

Astrid giggled lightly at her own joke as Belle rolled her eyes, and pulled another out of the large armoire. “How about the green?”

Belle tilted her head as she studied the dress. Like the red gown, she’d only worn it once, but that wasn’t because she disliked it. It was a different style from her usual outfits, more slim and sleek, clinging gently to her curves in a way she wasn’t accustomed to. It was a lush velvet lined with silk, and the gold thread embroidery at the neck and cuffs gave it a simple but rich look.

Finally, she sighed. “Yes, fine, I’ll bring it as well.”

Her head wasn’t in the right place to be picky about her outfits. She turned to open the trunk at the foot of her bed and pulled out a worn leather satchel. Just as she was slipping her book inside, pausing to check that Gold’s letter was still tucked inside, she turned back to Astrid.

“Oh, and the new blue one!”

Astrid stopped and looked at her wide eyed. “You’re sure?”

Belle gave her a small smile and nodded firmly. “Yes. I’m not going to let one bad incident with Sir Gaston ruin a perfectly lovely dress I had made special.”

Astrid’s mouth curve as she dipped in a quick curtsy. “Of course, my Lady.”

After a few more minutes of commotion in her rooms, Belle hurried off to the library, and tried to calm her nerves by focusing on the selection of books that would get her through the first weeks in her new home. She tucked each one into her leather satchel, laying them flat on the bottom, one on top of the other, seven high, and then an eighth along the side. The flap of the bag strained as she folded it over and latched the buckle.

“You could bring them all, you know.”

Belle startled and nearly dropped the bag on her foot as her head snapped up. Gold was standing in the door of the library with a bemused smile, and she felt her face flush.

“Oh, Lord Gold -” She stopped and chided herself silently. “Cameron. I was just -”

“I mean it,” he said, pushing off the door frame and ambling slowly towards her. His cane thumped softly against the wood floor, and her hands tightened around the strap of the bag.

“You can bring them all,” he repeated, casting his eyes around the room. “My library has plenty of space.”

“Oh, I really couldn’t.” She gave him a sheepish shrug, secretly pleased that he seemed to have a large library as well. “They’re not all mine.”

Gold let out a soft chuckle and looked down at her bag. “We could send for the ones that are later, if you like.”

She nodded and relaxed. “Thank you.”

“It’s no matter,” he said quietly. “I assume you like to read then?”

Her eyes drifted to the shelf as she spoke. “Yes, I - I do. Very much.”

“Good,” Gold muttered. “That’s...good.”

Belle wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but the fact that he was so willing to allow her space in his library and to pay for all her books to be moved was enough for now. Gaston abhorred not only reading anything that wasn't a battle plan, he also seemed to have a distaste for well-read women. Gold was, at the very least, not in that category.

“Your, um, maid -” he started to say.

“Astrid,” she supplied.

“Astrid,” he said, his eyebrows lifting, “is a bit...anxious.”

Belle bit her lip, smiling. “Yes, she’s - she’s a dear friend, but excitable at the best of times.”

“Indeed.” His fingers flexed around the hand of his cane, a motion she’d noticed while they were in her father’s office, and later in the garden. “Did you, um, want her to come with you?”

Belle’s eyes brightened. “You don’t mind?”

He made a face, the corner of his mouth curving. “Of course not. I have plenty of staff available to you, but if you like, we can send for her and your books as soon as we’re home and settled.”

Home.

She swallowed. This was home, her father’s manor, and the lands owned by her mother’s family. Right now she couldn’t imagine calling anywhere else her home, but that would be changing all too soon. At least having Astrid and her books would help her feel more at ease.

“Thank you,” she managed, and Gold gave a short nod before he turned and left.

The carriage rocked as they cross over a rough patch of road, rutted by rain and the heavy war wagons that passed by a few days ago. Belle pitched forward with a squeal as the wheels bounced, catching herself on the handle of the door. Gold reached for her, taking her by the arm and guiding her until she was seated next to him, her back to the driver and horses.

“There,” he said, once she was stable. “Better?”

She nodded and pressed a hand to her belly, feeling the laces of the corset under her gloved hand. Her left leg was pressed solidly against Gold’s and he was still holding her hand in his. She glanced up at his face, catching a hint of concern in his eyes. Facing the opposite way made the ride much more stable, if a bit bumpier, but instead of it nearly throwing her to the floor when the carriage lurched, it tipped her backwards, against the seat cushion.

‘Yes,” she managed, a bit breathless. “Much better.”

She looked out the window, catching a fading glimpse of Avonlea as they started down the hill to the main road. Her lips trembled and she pressed her lips together as the front gate and the large trees to either side disappeared from view, dipping down behind the tall grasses swaying gently in the wind. As they came around the bend at the bottom of the slope, the golden glow of the late afternoon sun warmed her face and dried her unshed tears, making the corners of her eyes feel tight. She turned her face away from Gold and rubbed at them, swallowing against the lump in her throat.

Gold was still holding her hand, a fact which she only noticed as he gave it a gentle squeeze. “Are you all right?”

She exhaled slowly and nodded. “Yes, yes I’m fine.”

He leaned forward a bit, dipping his head to try to catch a look at her face, and she finally turned to meet his eyes. “I’m fine,” she repeated, more to herself than to him.

His lips curved slightly and he sat back, seemingly satisfied for now, though he did not let go of her hand. She wondered at the small contact between them now that he had shifted further to the other side of the seat and leaned his elbow on the edge of the window. His hand was warm and loose around hers, as if to allow her to pull away at any time, but she found it oddly comforting, even from a man she barely knew.

There was an implicit trust bestowed by his letter, and strengthened by his request that she stand by his son at the appropriate time. It was as if he was making a deal with her and not her father, that the repayment of her family’s debts was more a means to secure this favor rather than a wife. It made her curious and nervous at the same time. She wanted to know the full story of how he had come to need to make such a request and understand his need, but a caution stirred low in her belly that the answer might not be pleasing to hear.

“How far is it to - your estate?” she asked finally.

Gold glanced at her and then fixed his eyes out the window once more, rubbing a finger over his lips before he spoke as if he had to calculate the distance in his mind. “I’d say thirty miles.”

Her eyes widened at that. By carriage that would take several hours, meaning they would arrive very late and long after dark.

“Don’t worry,” he continued, as if sensing her concern. “It’s good road and we’ll make better time than you might think.”

She sighed a little. “It will still be quite late by the time we get there.”

“Yes,” he conceded, giving her hand one last squeeze before he pulled it away and settled it in his lap. “But there will be time to see Thornhill in all its glory in the morning.”

“Thornhill?”

Gold nodded and flashed her a small smile. “The name of the estate.” She let out a small ‘oh,’ and he let out a short, soft laugh. “I kept the name when I purchased it.”

Belle frowned. Most of the nobility named their manors and estates to something associated with the family, but then again most had built them from nothing, not purchased them like a common house.

“Why?” She heard herself ask the question, and immediately clamped her mouth shut, pressing her fingers to her lips as Gold gave her a curious, sideways look. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry.”

He shifted in his seat until he was tucked in the corner, facing her, and she noted once again how much smaller he was compared to Gaston and the other men who had been possible suitors.

“You’re not prying,” he said. “It will be your home, and you have every right to know its history.” She smiled at that and he continued. “I kept it because it seemed fitting. The land around it aren’t very suitable for farming, though they do well enough to support the estate and the people. I didn’t understand at first why anyone would name their home something that seemed so...negative, but the gardens, well, they’ll explain it soon enough.”

Belle’s head tilted. “Gardens?”

He hummed in affirmation. “They are...extensive.” Her eyes went wide, and his face cracked into a wide grin. “Am I going to be regularly sending out a search party when you get lost in the hedge maze?”

She startled and gasped, and he laughed. It was a warm, pleasant sound, and she let her head drop, snickering softly to herself as well. “I’ll just take some bread with me and drop crumbs as I go so I can find my way back.”

“The birds will love you for it,” he said, still smiling.

She bit her lip, cheeks flushing with mild embarrassment. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

The lines by his eyes crinkled, and in the faint light from the setting sun the flecks of gold become more prominent. Her mind flashed to what they might look like in the firelight if they sat together some winter evening, and the thought was so sudden and strange, that her grin immediately faded and she shifted in her seat.

“I was teasing, by the way,” Gold said after a long moment.

She looked at him sideways, her eyebrows lifted. “There’s no hedge maze?”

“No, there is. But it’s not very large and I have every confidence you’d be able to find your way without issue. Bae loves playing in it, and I’m sure he’d be glad to have another party to lead through it.”

She sat back and breathed out, her nerves returning at the mention of Gold’s son. She wasn’t sure about being a step-mother, but then she also wasn’t sure that Gold intended her to be one at all.

“I suppose I’ll have to wait until morning to meet him.”

Gold sighed. “Yes, unfortunately. Perhaps we should have stayed in Avonlea for the night?”

She shook her head, unsure if she would have preferred delaying the inevitable or not. “No, it’s - it’s best we got moving, I think.”

“We can visit anytime you like, Belle,” he offered, fingers stretching out to brush her hand where it rested on the seat. "I'm not stealing you away from your father to lock you in a tower."

Her gaze darted to the side, watching as his index finger traced the bump of her knuckle, and barely suppressed a shiver.

“I know,” she managed, letting her eyes trailing up to meet Gold’s. "And thank you - Cameron."

He gave her another of his crooked half smiles, and they both settled into a comfortable silence.

The sun had fully set less than an hour later. All that could be seen through the windows of the carriage were spotty, distant flickers of light from the cottages and farms that dotted the landscape between Avonlea and Thornhill. A larger glow could be seen in the next valley, and Gold looked over, ready to comment on their passing of Longbourn, the village nearest to Avonlea and the farthest North edge of Lord Maurice's lands.

He smiled and sighed as he saw Belle's sweet face, deep asleep. Reaching down, he pulled a wool blanket out of the bin under the seat and laid it over her. She let out a soft sigh, and he swallowed, looking away as the carriage began to climb the slope of the next hill.

He hadn’t expected Lady Belle to be so beautiful or kind, or for her personality to be so appealing. His hope had been to find her well read, trustworthy, and tolerable enough to suit his plans, but the moment he laid eyes on her, he began to hate himself. She could have any man she wanted, and here he was taking advantage of her family’s financial situation, using it to trap her into a marriage that she clearly didn’t want.

The carriage went around a bend and the wheels caught in the ruts, rocking the entire thing side to side. Gold brace against the door and looked over at Belle just in time to see her tip to the side and come to rest against his shoulder. She sniffed in her sleep and made a small, quiet noise. He held his breath until she settled, and then exhaled slowly. Instinct made him want to put his arm around her and help her lay more comfortably, but propriety held him back. A promise had been made, in writing. Nothing more than she was willing to give, even if she was unaware and blissfully asleep on a bumpy road.

His fingers curled against his leg, fisting over his trousers as he inhaled her scent. The perfume she was wearing reminded him of the gardens in the peak of summer, when the warm breeze carried a hint of rose and wisteria. He wondered about the circumstances of her broken engagement to Sir Gaston. While no one could blame any woman for not wanting to marry such an overbearing lummox, the entire thing had seemed to be tinged with some unknown scandal. He assumed it to be entirely on Sir Gaston’s side, given the man’s known propensity for drink and women, but the way Maurice had spoken of it hinted at more.

Another rough patch of road left Gold groaning and rubbing at his leg as a sharp pain pulsed through the muscles from foot to thigh. He shifted and stretched it out as best he could, careful not to jostle Belle too much. Her hand came up and curled around his arm, and he couldn’t help but smile even through the agony in his ankle as he rotated it one way and the other until the cramping ceased. His hand came up and covered hers, feeling the smooth warm skin beneath his palm, even against his better judgement and the nagging voice in the back of his mind that told him to keep a safe distance. His future held nothing but sorrow, save for his son, and the last thing he wanted was for Belle to be hurt by association.

Everything he was doing was for Baeden, but he did hope the boy liked Belle, at least as much as Gold feared he himself would.

Belle awoke in the carriage with a start, and heard the telltale sound of the wheels rolling over stones instead of dirt.

She sat up and looked around, confused momentarily until she realized she’d been leaning on Gold’s shoulder as she slept. “Sorry,” she mumbled, flushing red with embarrassment.

He gave her a strange look and shrugged. “It’s no matter.”

“We’ve arrived,” she said, leaning forward to look out of the window of the carriage.

He inclined his head. “We have indeed.”

He pushed open the door on his side and came around to hers, offering her a hand as she stepped down. She looked up with wide eyes at the large structure, so much higher and wider than Avonlea.

“It’s...”

“Much prettier in the daylight,” he finished for her, with a flat look that gave away his sarcastic intent.

Belle let out a soft laugh, and then Gold gave orders to the valet and two servants who had come out to greet them.

“All of the trunks in the wagon go to Lady Belle’s rooms in the south wing.”

The men nodded and began unloading, as meanwhile Belle stared up at Thornhill with apprehension. It was so much bigger than she’d imagined, more like the king’s palace than an estate home, and she marveled at how Gold had come to acquire it. Had it been available so cheaply, or was his wealth even more than she’d first understood.

A touch at her arm shook her from her contemplation and she turned to see Gold watching her.

“Shall we?” he asked, offering her his arm.

She could do no more than nod, and took his arm, letting him lead her through the front archway into a wide courtyard. There were sculpted shrubs and potted plants lining the way as they walked through it to what she presumed was the front door. Inside, a wide staircase lead up to the second floor, wide enough for three people to walk side by side. There wasn’t time to look around the rest of the foyer, or any of the other rooms before they headed upstairs.

“This is the way to the family bedrooms,” he said as he lead her down a hallway that ran from the front of the house to the back. She gave him a sideways look as they came to an end, and he added, “They have the best view of the gardens.”

Belle smiled at that, and let him guide her around the corner to the left. The corridor was shorter than she expected, and lined with three doors on either side. She began to wonder how long it would take her to decipher the labyrinth of halls and rooms and stairs that made up Thornhill. A month? A year? Perhaps young Bae would be as delighted to show her around the house as he would be the hedge maze.

“This hall is yours,” Gold declared. “There’s two sitting rooms, here and here, a bathing room, small library...”

She gasped in surprise and delight, and then covered her mouth with her hand. Giving her a bemused smile, he continued on. “A dressing room there, and this...” He stopped and slipped his arm from hers to open a set of double doors at the very end of the corridor. “This is your room.”

Belle stepped inside, her lips pressed together as she took it all in. It was more rooms than she’d ever occupied at Avonlea and she wasn’t sure she’d ever find enough things or purposes to fill them all. The bedroom was wide but not too large that the single fireplace, which itself was sizable, couldn’t warm the space. At one end was a canopied bed with curtains tied back on either side. There was only a small chest of drawers and a vanity, she presumed because an entire room was devoted to storing her clothing, a fact that still had part of her mind spinning. A curved chaise and two chairs made a small sitting area near the fireplace, and along the back wall was a set of four large windows, two of which opened onto a terrace.

“Consider these a blank canvas. You can change anything that isn’t to your liking,” Gold added from the doorway. “I fear I’ve left them rather plain and awaiting the right touch.”

She barely heard him as she moved forward, running her hand over the edges of the furniture. She approached the window nearest the bed and lifted back the curtain to peer into the darkness. A few torches lit the patio below, but she couldn’t see much more than a few feet of grass and more potted plants set along the edge of the stone pavers.

“It looks rather nice in the sunlight,” he said, standing just behind her.

Her lips twitched and she glanced up at him over her shoulder. “And if I don’t like the view?”

Gold’s eyes twinkled with mirth. “Then I’m sure we can find another room with another view that you will like better.”

She shook her head. “I’m sure this one will be lovely.”

“Well,” he said, smoothing his hands down the front of his coat. It was lightly creased from so long in the carriage, but she thought he still looked quite nice. “It’s late and -”

“Where is your room?” she asked abruptly. She didn’t know where the thought had come from, but once it was there she couldn’t help but let it out.

“The other end,” he said simply. “Of the hall.”

She blinked, surprised that he’d be so close by. Sir Gaston had promised her space in an entire wing of his estate, enough to keep her far away from his rooms and whatever went on there. Her own parents were separated by the entire width of Avonlea manor. Gold was so near that she could poke her head out of her bedroom door and see his at the opposite end.

Gold’s hand twisted against the hand of his cane. “Is that - a problem?”

“No!” She paused and swallowed. “No, it’s - it’s fine. I was just - curious is all. I’m sorry.”

“It’s no matter.” He said before he took a step back and bowed at the waist. “I will bid you goodnight, at and let you get settled before bed.”

“Goodnight,” she replied. “Cameron.”

A small smile crinkled his eyes again, and he bowed a second time. Goodnight, Belle.”

A long slow breath left her after the door close and she dropped down on the mattress, closing her eyes for a moment.

Thornhill.

Her new home. With her new husband just at the end of the hall.

Opening her eyes, she looked around the room again and starting to smile. Her hands roamed over the fabric, testing with gentle pushes. The mattress and pillows were plush and soft, perhaps the most decadent she’d ever touched, and she’d stayed several nights at the King’s summer palace with Ariel. Her hand traced the faint pattern stitched into the creamy white duvet, the delicate blue thread tucking the fabric to make fluffy hills and narrow valleys.

She smiled and bit her lip. Lord Gold - Cameron - she corrected herself, again, had told her that her rooms were a blank canvas, awaiting her touch, her preferences. Yet as she looked around the already well appointed room, with its soft colors and wide balcony overlooking the ample gardens, she wasn’t sure if there was anything she would change.

In fact, she was considering that perhaps there was nothing she would change about the situation at all, her marriage included.

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #my rumbelle fic #belle x mr. gold #arranged marriage au #in all things #fic

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dirtyblupjeans · 5 years

Text

Bondage - Kinktober day 4

“I want you to take charge tonight,” she says, tugging his jeans and boxers off. They’ve been making out for a while, clothes are strewn around the room, marking the trail they’ve blazed since entering the room. His shirt is by the door. Her bra and top tossed over the back of the chair. His belt lies in the floor like a snake that had taken down their kicked off shoes. Only her skirt and panties remain.

He considers her words as she tosses his pants to the ground. He’s tried to take charge before. He had a few strengths in that regard. He was very good at observing her reactions, at finding her edge and holding her there. And he’s an artist when it comes to binding her. He drives her crazy the way he carefully wraps and knots the rope around her.

But he’s reluctant to initiate himself as the dominant one. And he’s scared to push her limits even though that’s what she wants most from their playtime.

He knows this. He knows all of this.

So this time when he nods and accepts, it’s with the silent promise to do better, to make the experience not just extremely pleasurable for her, but also to surprise her.

He starts by talking.

“What’s your safe word, Lup?”

“Red,” she says with a smile.

“And if you want to slow down?”

“Yellow,” she says. She’s never used either.

“What color are you now?”

“Green all the way,” she answers, anxious to begin.

“On your knees.” His tone is firm, commanding.

Lup drops to her knees in front of where he sits on the bed but her eyebrows have shot up.

“Eyes down. Position one.”

Instantly she complies. Her shoulders straighten back, neck stiffens, eyes gaze at the floor in front of her. Her hands rest on her thighs with her legs angled slightly open, ass resting on her heels.

“Very nice,” he comments. “Are you going to be a good girl for me tonight?”

“Maybe.”

“Try again, Lup,” he tells her, voice rough. He leans forward and tangles his fingers in her hair. He pulls, more than gently, forcing her head back and eyes up to look at him. “I’m letting that one slide but the next one means I get the crop out.”

Her breath hitches in surprise and her tongue licks slowly over her lips before she amends, “Yes, sir.”

“Much better.”

He releases her and quells the worry in his chest by studying her, by asking, “What’s your color?”

“Green,” she responds. She swallows and answers again. “Green, sir.”

Barry smils. Her eyes have returned to her focal point on the floor but he can see her enjoyment in a dozen ways. Her nipples have bunched tightly. Her thighs muscles have flexed in anticipation. Her tongue keeps darting out to wet her lips. It’s in the way her hands sit, in the set of her shoulders, in the angle of her ears… everywhere he looks he sees evidence of her arousal, of her enjoyment.

“Come here,” he tells her and she doesn’t even hesitate before she crawls forward. When she’s between his legs, he runs his hand over her cheek. He loves her so much. Adores her. Submissive. Dominant. Vanilla. Asleep. Every moment with her is a gift. He wants her to feel the same so if this is what she wants tonight, he’s going to give it to her in spades.

While his focus lapses, she slips forward, wrapping her mouth over him eagerly. She’s hot and wet and velvet and perfect. Her lips pull tight around him and her tongue wraps under him. For a moment he considers yanking her forward, fucking her face quickly so he can focus on her without his own orgasm threatening so strongly.

“Not yet, pet,” he says, nudging her back. “I appreciate the impulse but you’re supposed to be following directions and that one wasn’t given.”

“Up,” he orders. She frowns but does. “Hands behind your back,” he continues, as he stands as well. He crosses to their closet and swings it open, pushes aside the cover to the side compartment where they keep their toys. He pulls down the armbinder. They haven’t used it often but he’s determined tonight to not fall back into their favorites. Those are always fun but tonight…

Lup stands facing away from him so she has no idea what he’s chosen. Then she feels the leather sleeve tugging, wrapping over her linked hands.

Barry pauses, leaning her against his chest, her arms trapped between them in the half pulled on binder. His mouth goes to her neck, sucking gently at the skin at the soft curve near her shoulder. One hand brushes lightly over her chest, teasing past her nipples then over her belly. Finally his fingers slide along the waistband of her skirt.

“Still green?”

Lup nods. Her breath catches as his fingers dip beneath the waistband. His wide palm is warm against her skin, thumb stroking a line from her belly button.

Her back curves as his hand continues its slow meander, arching against him as her hips press forward. Teasing his fingers at the top of her panties, he licks over the small bruise he’s pulled up at her neck. She shivers at the sensation.

His free hand slides the hem of her skirt up, ghosting his fingers up her thigh while the hand in her skirt makes its way under the silk of her panties. Her head falls back to rest against his and a quiet sound hums out of her, less than a moan but more than a breath.

The hand sliding up under her skirt curls over her panties, pressing his own fingers down against her. Her clit is slick and firm under his touch. The hand in her panties cups her mound while his other hand strokes over her panties, pushing himself against her while he holds her.

Lup squirms in his arms and gives him another needy noise. Her ass pushes against his groin, unintentionally pressing on his cock similar to the way he’s teasing her.

“Do you want to come?” he asks, mouth still hovering at her neck.

She nods, takes a breath, and answers, “Yes, please.”

“Hmmm,” is all he answers while she juts her hips forward again, chasing the friction he’s denying her. “I think I should tease you more.”

The whine his statement elicits from her makes him smile. He loves getting her to this point, loves prolonging it almost as he loves making her come, seeing her shaking and blissed out in his arms. But he’s trying to maintain his role so he pulls his hands free and lightly smacks her ass.

She jumps and he moves to the side, checking her again. She’s sucking on her bottom lip and he could swear his cock bobs upright, going even harder at the sight. Plundering her mouth is impossibly tempting, either with his cock or with his own mouth. But he wants to get this armbinder on.

“Color?”

“Green, Barry. So green.”

“Good girl,” he tells her, moving to tug the armbinder in place. Since he left it loose, it’s slipped own somewhat. Starting at her hands, he pulls it up, making sure her hands are all the way in, fingers pressed into the angled tip where a suspension ring is fitted securely. Lacing starts at her wrists and he slowly, methodically, begins tightening the strings.

Her golden brown skin contrasts with the black leather. Seeing it peeking through the lacings is gorgeous.

“You can speak if it’s too tight,” he reminds her. “Still good?”

“Still green,” she answers. He’s gratified to hear she sounds a little breathless, excitement and arousal straining her voice.

He works the lacing higher, pulling the edges close as he moves upwards. Finally, he’s high enough he has to thread the lacing through the eyelets at the top where the string pulled out when it was loosened to get it on. When he gets it in the last set of holes, he goes over the whole thing, tugging each crossed lacing to check it’s taught but not too tight. At last, he ties off the ends with a quick release knot and tucks them into the binder between her upper arms to get the strings out of the way.

Barry walks around her slowly, appreciating his work. Her shoulders curve back, thrusting her breasts out. Trailing a finger over her shoulder as he walks, his fingers skim over her. Down her shoulder, over the gentle swell of her breast, over her left nipple, then down to the valley between, and back up the rise of her right breast. At her right breast, he pauses, studying her again before gently pinching and tugging her nipple.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says. His voice is soft, reverent. The tone cracks into pure desire as he tells her, “I’m gonna bend you over that desk and fuck you until you can’t walk.”

Her head snaps up, meeting his gaze. Her eyes are dark, pupils wide with lust.

“Would you like that?” he asks. As turned on as he is, as she clearly is as well, he’s still a little awkward at his role. Luckily, it makes his question sound curious instead of nervous. “Is that something you’d enjoy?”

“Fuck, yes,” she answers. She licks her lips and adds, “Please.”

His hand trails down from her breast, moves slowly over her belly. Her breaths catches again as he reaches under her skirt and kneads at her through her panties.

“Go to the desk.”

Moving carefully with her arms bound behind her shifting her balance, Lup moves to the desk. She leans over it, crushing her breasts against the wood. Her arms angle up behind her.

Barry moves back to their supplies and grabs the lube. Lup has turned her head to watch him. He stops just beside the desk and pours a generous amount into his hand. He sits the bottle down then uses his empty hand to caress her ass. She watches him slather the lube over his dick, her eyes as eager as he feels.

As he carefully coats himself he asks one more time, “Still green, Lup?”

“Yes, godsdamn it!”

He smacks her ass but he’s grinning. “Such language! Maybe I should fuck that dirty mouth of yours instead.”

She groans but doesn’t protest.

He moves behind her and flips her skirt up out of the way. As he slides her panties down to her thighs, he says, “But you’ve got such a tempting ass…”

When the panties are at the floor, he helps her step out of them, then nudges her legs wide.

He presses against her, teasing the head of his cock over her asshole. “What do you think, Lup?”

“Fuck,” she answers, the word exhaled on a harsh breath.

“Hmmm.” He picks up the lup and squirts it on her ass. She jumps as the cold fluid hits her skin. Dropping the bottle back onto the desk, he catches the liquid with his fingers and spreads around her asshole. Slowly pushing one finger in, he works the lube in. His middle finger curls into her then out, back and forth until he adds his index finger as well.

With his other hand, he reaches around her hip and wraps his hand over her. “That wasn’t really an answer.”

She’s torn between shoving her hips forward against his hand or pushing her ass backwards for his fingers. “Yes,” she says as he slides his hand over her. “Yes, please, Barry.”

He continues drilling his fingers slowly into her. “Please what? Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me,” she whines, still trying to rut her hips back and forth.

“With my fingers?” he asks, pushing into her again. “Or something else?”

“I…” She starts to answer but the hand between her legs strokes her again, catching on her slick clit.

He wants to bury his cock in her ass but Lup so turned on she can’t speak is a feat.

“Nothing you can think of?” he teases, removing his fingers from her ass. Taking hold of his cock, he presses himself to her well lubed asshole. “Cause I know something I want.”

“Please,” she whines.

“Please?” he asks, but the teasing tone is gone. His voice is strained, too.

“I want…”

He palms his hand over her again, traps her with his fingers before rubbing, pressing her from both directions, hand and cock, front and back.

In the binder, her hands twitch, trying to grab for something she has no ability to take. Her breath stutters and she gasps out, “Barry…”

“Yes, Lup?” He’s still teasing his cock at her asshole but his own patience is fraying to tatters.

“Fuck me,” she pants. “Your cock.” Her hips jerk forward again. “In my ass.”

“Mmm, there we go,” he responds, pushing himself in slowly. It’s hard to talk with her squeezing hot and tight around his dick. “That’s… that’s a good answer…” He keeps pushing forward, filling her up. The hand he’d held his cock with goes to her hip, curling his fingers over her skin, holding her as he slides back out then rams forward.

Lup offers up wordless sounds of encouragement as he drives into her. She’s leaking into the hand he’s still stroking over her. Usually he’d focus on one or the other but this time he doesn’t stop. He keeps working his hand at her while his cock pounds into her ass. He can feel his restraint cracking but he’s focused on her, on taking her apart completely.

Their noises combine, harsh breaths and keening sounds from her, soft groans and huffs of air from him.

“Come for me,” he demands between breaths.

She does, trembling in his arms as she cries out. He shifts both hands to her hips as he hammers into her. After a moment of recovery, she’s pushing back against him, matching his rhythm and that’s it, he’s done, restraint shattered now that she’s orgasmed. His own climax hits him hard and he clings to her while his cock twitches inside her.

When he pulls out he can barely mumble the spell to clean them but his fingers go straight to the strings of the binder. Releasing the knot he loosens the lacing quickly. It’s only a moment before he pulls it off and tosses it to the desk.

Lup stands, pushing on the desk with shaky arms.

“Let me,” he says, and swings her into his arms, managing to stumble them over to the bed before he drops, landing with her in his lap.

Her head leans against his and he works his hands up and down her arms, stimulating blood flow again.

She grunts a soft noise of complaint.

“Sorry,” he apologizes.

“S’okay,” Lup protests. She pulls one arm back from him and wraps it around his neck, cuddling into him more comfortably. “Better,” she murmurs.

Wrapping his own arm around her back, he continues rubbing her arm.

“Want some tea or anything?” he asks.

“Don’t move,” she demands. She sighs contentedly. “Don’t you dare move.”

Barry smiles and hugs her to him. “That I can absolutely do.”

#blupjeans #kinktober taz #kinktober2019 #kinktober

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theluckiestwitchathogwarts · 5 years

Text

First Choice

#writing #fanfic #songfic #first choice #exhale #panic attack #anxiety #httyd #how to train your dragon #tuffnut #snotlout #fishlegs #rufflout #rufflegs #archive #ffnet #ruffnut

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itsclydebitches · 5 years

Note

Can we please have more of Uncle Oz? That prompt was beautiful and my little heart needs more. Specifically why Oz slept on the couch before as Yang mention it has happened in the past. *puppy eyes*

Okay, okay, I’m an IDIOT who doesn’t remember her own writing. Because my fool brain ended up writing about Qrow sleeping on the couch instead, for undetermined reasons. Will I ever successfully answer a prompt? Will Qrow and Oz ever end up in the same drabble together again? Stay tuned to find out!

(Prompt list is here)

Tai took two steps into Ozpin’s latest apartment, saw the quilt lying haphazardly over the couch, and had the distinct urge to walk back out again.

“What did he do this time?” he sighed.

Ozpin’s lips thinned. He cast his own look at the messy pile of pillow and blankets, seeming to project an unwarranted amount of disdain at the poor, innocent fabrics. They wouldn’t be the first inanimate objects to take the brunt of Ozpin’s emotions. In lieu of people—and very much to their benefit—Ozpin tended to take his rare anger out on the trees of Forever Fall Forest; the occasional dish that gave a satisfying shatter. Those moments truly were rare though. More often than not Tai simply found piles of methodically torn up paper on Ozpin’s desk.

Right now the sleeve of his sweater was slowly coming undone, the loose thread rolled, rolled, rolled between two fingers. Yep.

“Don’t even try it,” Tai said, gesturing at the weak smile Ozpin had just conjured out of will alone. “If you tell me not to worry, say it’s nothing, or worse, start going on about how I came here for a nice visit? I will take this umbrella and shove it straight up your ass.”

“Hardly the best way to start our evening together.” This time the twitch of his lips was genuine. Ozpin swept aside to let Tai through, arm falling in a graceful arc to indicate the umbrella stand and a small mat for his shoes. “Truly though, you didn’t come here to—”

“Finish that sentence, Oz. I dare you.” Tai shook the umbrella and a thousand water droplets scattered across the floor.

“Oh for dust’s sake. You’re as stubborn as he is,” and with a huff Ozpin turned on his heel and headed back towards the kitchen.

Hmm. That didn’t bode well.

A lack of reprimand for getting water all over his entryway? Check.

Insulting his guest—because yes, any comparison to Qrow was an automatic insult in this family—right when they’d arrived? Check.

Visible frustration, petulant attitude, further faux pas by abandoning Tai to his own devices? Check, check, check. Tai cast a longing look at the door and kicked off his shoes.

“Formal announcement,” he said, wandering into the kitchen to find Oz slamming milk onto the counter. “I would like to remind everyone here,” Tai gestured to an invisible audience, “that I am not even related to you. Not technically. Not since I dumped Raven’s fine ass. And yet here I am, the best of fake brother in laws, here to be your shoulder to cry on. Metaphorically. Because I just bought this shirt and I’m not prepared to find out what two-thousand year old tears might do to it.”

The look Ozpin cast him could have melted iron. “Are you going to be like this all night?”

“Until you tell me what happened? Absolutely.”

“Very well. That shirt is horrendous though. By the way.”

“Thank you. Wore it special for this visit. Oh, extra marshmallows in mine. Don’t be stingy, old man.”

Ozpin agreed with a roll of his eyes, plopping said marshmallows into two mugs as the milk began to steam. He’d said once that only fools put the marshmallows in last. Pouring cocoa over them ensured the perfect, almost-melted-but-not-quite consistency for scooping up with a spoon. Tai had said he was crazy and had said spoon chucked at his head.

The cocoa was very good though.

“I can hear it buzzing,” Tai said, taking a seat at the counter. With speed worthy of a huntsmen Oz had his scroll out and tucked away in a drawer. Neither he nor Qrow had much time to cook, so their kitchen had the sort of aesthetic perfection usually only found in domestic magazines. Tai ran his finger over the absurdly clean marble top, tracing a line from mug to salt shaker. “You ever going to answer him?”

Ozpin pulled up a stool directly beside Tai, their knees now pressed together. Need for physical contact? Check.

“My silence is answer enough.”

“Oz.”

“He—”

Ozpin cut himself off and all at once the wind went right out of Tai’s sails. Oh. No more jabs or check-lists then. That expression wasn’t something to trifle with. He…

Well. Let’s just say the last time Ozpin looked like that he’d had the name ‘Summer’ on his lips. Dejection of that sort—pulling at an intrinsically optimistic nature—only ever meant someone’s death.

The mug of cocoa slammed down on the counter. “Qrow’s dead?”

“Tai.”

“Right, right, sorry. Stupid, knee-jerk question. So he…?”

“Almost died, yes.” Ozpin delivered the news without a trace of emotion. Not to the casual observer, at least. “Of course, he’d never admit as much to himself. Let alone to me. Oh no, the man will go to his grave—literally!—insisting that he’s never made an impulsive decision in his life. Not on the battlefield, anyhow.” His own mug was snatched up and half the chocolate poured down his throat. “I married a fool.”

Been there, Tai almost said, but bit his lip at just the last moment. Right. Serious conversation now. It was just hard when he could so clearly see the picture spread out before him. He hadn’t visited last week because Qrow and Oz were out on a mission, the sort of thing that wasn’t secret exactly, but played close between them for Tai’s own peace of mind. They had to have encountered grimm because Ozpin would have been on a warpath if any humans or faunus had gotten between them. So maybe Qrow took on too many. Or, as Oz said, played the over confident fool. Maybe he was just careless.

…or maybe, based on how Oz was rubbing at his shoulder, Qrow had taken a hit meant for him.

“How bad is it?”

The question came out a whisper, but you’d have thought Tai shouted it with the way Ozpin jerked. Right. Pretty unused to having other people read him so easily—or at all. Tai would have liked to rib him on it. Only problem was, Oz was only transparent like this when something was well and truly bothering him.

Damn his own, kind nature. Tai was a freaking saint and everyone was going to realize it one of these days. He should really get some sort of medal.

Ozpin, meanwhile, had deliberately moved his hands back to his mug and carefully re-schooled his features. They might as well have been discussing budget reports.

“He dodged it,” Ozpin said, each word clipped and a little bit fragile. “Barely. After pushing me out of the way, of course. You’d think two thousand years of training would keep me from making an initiate’s mistake, hmm?”

“You’d think two thousand years of training would have taught you the lesson you’re always pushing on us.”

“Which is?”

“No one’s perfect, Oz.”

A curl of his lip and two taps against porcelain. It said, I should be.

“I don’t care about perfection.” Liar. “But I do care if my mistakes endanger others. More pressingly, given that it’s clear I will continue to make mistakes, I care greatly when others wish to take on my consequences when there is absolutely no need.”

Tai forced himself to swallow down another sigh. Oh, they all knew that speech well now. The problem with befriending an immortal was that he believed, with every fiber of his being, that he was meant to take the hit. Always.

Tai also knew damn well that he wouldn’t be the guy to talk Oz out of that. That particular honor went to the man currently banished to the couch.

Funny the irony there. And by ‘funny’ Tai meant ‘Not at all what the absolute fuck, Ozpin.’

“What I’m hearing,” he said slowly. “Is that you’re punishing Qrow for doing—wait for it—this absolutely horrible thing called loving you.”

Ozpin scowled. “You know very well it’s more complicated than—”

“Get over it.”

Ozpin blinked.

“Everything’s complicated for you. Everything is always going to be complicated. So for just this one thing get over it and accept that Qrow loves you. That loving you might include dying for you. I sure as hell hope not, but if you don’t allow him that then you’re gonna reach a point where he’s not even sleeping on the couch anymore.”

Impassioned speeches, thy name is not Tiayang Xiao-Long. He’d tried though. With good reason. Ozpin was staring at the countertop now, one foot lightly bobbing over the rung of his stool. A bit of his bottom lip pulled up between his teeth. That was something.

Oh, Tai was under no illusions that he’d change someone like Ozpin so easily. But for now? That lack of pushback was just enough.

Finally Ozpin raised his head. He moved it in what might have been Remnant’s smallest, most terrified nod.

Or maybe Tai was just finding what he wanted to see.

“You want to see Ruby’s latest drawing?” he asked, tapping the space above his heart. Pure coincidence that his girls’ artwork happened to be tucked in the pocket there. “She’s got some pretty awesome ideas about what the grimm must look like.”

Ozpin’s eyes shown. “But of course. Although… perhaps we should wait for Qrow?”

Just like that. Smooth it over. Tai was good at that, though he had no illusions that he’d never again walk in to see Qrow’s pillow stuffed onto one end of that couch. Dust only knew how Oz would react the next time he tried to play hero… or whether Tai would ever be allowed to die for him as he would any other friend. That might be too much to ask him for.

Remember he’s different, Tai thought. Every victory is so much larger when it’s with Oz. You’ve just gotta remember that.

Tai lifted his mug in a toast. “Sounds like a plan.”

The cocoa was cold now. Tai decided to focus on the sweetness instead.

#rwby #ozqrow #rwbyfic #Anonymous

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parkersharthook · 6 years

Text

I Wanna Dance With Somebody

(Harry Hook x Evie Grimhilde)

Warnings: SMUT!!

2k+ words

Evie is a dance major at Auradon University, Harry Hook is her loyal boyfriend

She was beautiful, that was obvious. Everyone knew it. Every female and male. Even she knew it. She was drop dead gorgeous. With her pale flawless skin and her ruby lips, it was hard to take your eyes off of her. She moved across the stage purposefully.

Her deep blue flowed freely around her and whipped through the air as she turn on her toes. Her skintight jeans scratched against each other lightly as she moved her legs rhythmically. Was there anything she couldn't do?

He sat there, his eyes not moving from the stage as his love performed her heart out. She maintained her grades, mastered almost all forms of dance, and managed to capture his heart in the process.

The upbeat music sped up for a moment but Evie continued to stay on beat with her motions. She was performing a hip hop routine she had been learning in the past month so she could compete. It was the National Auradon Dance Competition and her teacher had issued Evie a challenge, compete in the hip hop category. Evie was nervous at first, preferring ballet and jazz over anything else. But she was still an isle girl and as stubborn as ever, so she didn't back down instead taking the challenge by the horns. She had been practicing for the past four weeks endlessly and she was tired beyond belief.

But there was Harry, her faithful and loving boyfriend, by her side throughout it all and now he was here to watch her cross the finish line. He was in awe at how her body was moving, not knowing that it was physically possible. He sat in the second row, a single rose held between his fingers. He had been fiddling with it nervously, waiting for her performance. But now as she was gliding and twisting across the stage, his attention was completely captured by his blue haired princess.

She finished abruptly, the song slowly fading out. He was speechless for a moment but soon joined the standing crowd in their cheers and praise. She covered her mouth in happiness and quickly waved to the crowd, making her way offstage. Harry could barely sit through the rest of the performances, dying to see his princess. He was lazily watching a ballet routine when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He quickly pulled it out and soon a large smile was forming.

Princess: come backstage. I'm in prep room 59 with some other people.

Pirate: on mah way

He slid out of his seat and dashed up the aisle and out of the auditorium. He walked through the dark hallways until he found the correct room which was propped open. A group of performers were spread out through the room, each in front of their own vanity mirror with lights. Family members and guests alike were congratulating their respective dancers. Harry quickly found Evie's blue hair and made his way towards her. She was leaning forward in her chair, fixing her lipstick in the mirror. She looked absolutely stunning.

Her blue hair was undone and flowing down her back in loose waves. Her lips were adorned with her signature red color, this time a bit darker. Her eyes were decorated with dark makeup, causing the deep blue irises to stand out even more. He walked behind her and dropped kiss onto her cheek.

She leaned back in her chair and looked up at him, "Hey there pirate man."

He smiled, "Hey thaur princess." He bent down and met her waiting lips in a quick kiss. He pulled away much to her dismay and grabbed a nearby chair. He dragged it next to her and plopped down. He shyly gave her the rose he had been holding, "Fur ye mah bonnie lass."

Evie smiled and gently took the rose, "it's beautiful. Thank you Harry." She placed the rose on the vanity counter and turned to him. "What'd you think of the performance?"

"Absolutely barry. Ye waur stoat lass. Ah cooldnae tak' mah een aff ay ye." He leaned in closer and pecked her lips, "th' way yer hair flowed behin' ye." Another peck, "th' way yer body moved in sync." Another kiss, "An' th' way yer hips moved... ye hud me out ay mah min'." This kiss was a little bit longer and Harry lightly chewed on her bottom lip causing her to push him back slightly. She blushed heavily as she looked around the room.

"We're in public Harry." She whispered.

He rolled his eyes, "ah dinnae caur. Ah want th' whole warld tae ken 'at thes bonnie lass reit haur is mine."

She patted his cheek as she stood up, "That's sweet but I have to go to the presenting of the awards."

"I'll be thaur cheerin' ye oan."

She grabbed his hand, "I don't doubt it."

~.~

She gasped as her back collided with the wall, her body arching at the rough contact. He continued his attack on her neck and she ran her fingers through his hair. He fumbled with the door knob and silently thanked the spirits that it was late and everyone was asleep. He finally unlocked the door and opened it, causing the two to stumble in. He kicked the door close and encircled her waist, bringing her body closer to his.

She breathed out as he nipped at her skin. She shuttered slightly, "Gil?"

He didn't stop his kissing. "Nae" Kiss. "haur." Kiss. "Gain fur" kiss. "th' week." She smiled and threaded her fingers through his locks once again.

His hands began to travel past her waist and lightly skimmed over her butt causing her breath to waver. He gripped at her thighs and quickly pulled them around his torso. She locked her ankles around him and he spun them around, so she was leaning against the door once again. He moved back to her neck and began to trail the kisses lower as Evie fumbled with the hem of his shirt. "This. Off. Now."

He smirked against her skin and let her pull the fabric over his head, only disconnecting to fully discard the article of clothing. She looked him in the eyes as she trailed a sharp nail lightly over his toned abdomen. She bit her lip and fluttered her eyelashes, knowing it would have an effect on him. He growled lowly and instantly reclaimed her lips with a new sense of urgency. She felt him reach his hands under her shirt and gently pull it over her body until she was just in her bra. He positioned his hands beneath her butt and walked the two of them to his bed, gently dropping her onto the mattress. He hovered above her, his forearms on either side of her body and holding up his weight.

He ground against her center causing her to moan in pleasure. She lightly pushed Harry away from her and flipped them over so she was sitting on his waist. She teasingly pinned his hands to the mattress above his head. She rolled her hips against his manhood causing him to groan. She left her lips a few centimeters from his, the two sharing the air but not completely connected.

He murmured lowly, "Yer gonnae be th' death ay me princess."

Evie smirked and slowly crawled her hands back down his body until they rested on his stomach and she was sitting upright. She slowly brought her hands behind her back and undid her bra clasp. She let the garment slowly fall down her arms before she discarded it onto the floor.

Harry's voice was breathy as he spoke, "Everytime ah see ye, ye tak' mah breathe awa'."

She smiled at his kind words and dipped back down to resume the kissing, this time the pace much slower and sensual. Her fingers fumbled with his belt clasp before finally getting it undone. She quickly moved to undo the button on his pants and sighed in relief when she felt it release. He didn't let her remove his pants before flipping them once more. He quickly undid her jeans and hooked his thumb into the waistband. He ran his fingers slowly down her long legs, bringing the pants along with him. He stopped with them bunched at her ankles and slowly untied her high tops before pulling them off her feet. She quickly kicked off her jeans and motioned for him to join her again. He smirked and happily obliged to her command, quickly grounding himself over her center.

She threw her head in pleasure as his rough jeans created a fantastic friction where she needed it most. "Harry..." She breathed out. He almost lost himself right there when he heard her moan his name.

He held it in though and instead dropped his lips so they were next to her ear. His hot breath sent shivers down her spine, "aye princess?"

"I need you." He ground against her center again causing her mouth to fall open, "Plea-please."

"As ye wish." He nipped at her ear and paused, "Princess." He quickly knocked off his shoes and discarded his pants. He moved back up her legs and pulled her underwear down to her ankles. He smiled at his naked princess griping the sheets. She kicked off her underwear and wrapped her leg around his back, hoping to bring him closer to her. He quickly felt to his stomach and pressed a quick kiss to the inside of her thigh. She let out a shaky breath. He kissed higher and higher up her leg before passing right over her heat and going to the other leg.

She groaned in sexual frustration, "Harry, please. Stop teasing."

He actually listened to her this time and quickly pressed a kiss to her clit. She arched her back as he drove his tongue into her. Her fingers ached to grip something and quickly reached down to tangle in his hair. He moaned into her at the feeling of her fingers tugging at his locks. He added a finger to his ministrations and she also unraveled at that. Her back arched and she moaned loudly.

"Harry, please." Her voice almost came out in a whimper and Harry thought he'd done enough teasing. He pulled off his boxers and quickly aligned himself with her entrance. He laced their fingers together and moved her hands above her head as he slowly pushed into her. They both moaned loudly. Evie welcomed his size easily but still found herself speechless at the feeling. And Harry, no matter the amount of times they had sex, still lost his breath at her tightness. She wrapped her legs around his torso forcing him deeper into her. He started moving slowly in and out of her, teasing her.

"Faster Harry." She moaned against his neck. He didn't listen to her, instead as he fought to control his pace. He loved being rough with his princess, knowing she loved it too but he also loved cherishing her and going slow because after all... she was a princess. He continued his steady pace, dropping his forehead onto the mattress beside her head. She groaned and tightened her legs around him, "please Harry faster."

He growled and sped up a little causing her to arch her back, aching for more contact and friction. He couldn't resist the moans and whispers coming from her mouth and found himself speeding up once again. He pulled out of her, flipped her over and drove back into her. She moaned and pawed at the sheets, loving this side of Harry.

He kept on hand on her hip and the other pushing her head deeper into the mattress. He pounded into her from behind, hard and fast. Her moans came out in short bursts, his name falling from her lips as if they were a curse.

"Oh fuck Harry." She moaned after a hard thrust, "Shit, Harry. Oh fuck, I'm cumming!"

He didn't stop his movements but slowed down slightly as he let her come down from her high. She breathed heavily and panted but continued egging him on. She felt the familiar sensation build up once again. He moved the hand off of the back of her head and brought it to the other hip, gripping her tightly and pulling her back as he thrusted forward. He continued to slam into her while she whispered for him to never stop.

"Shit, aam close." He finally breathed out. Evie felt like she could do this forever but the sensation had grown stronger and was about to reach its breaking point, again.

"Me too." She breathed, gripping the sheets tightly. She shut her eyes tightly when she felt his hand snake around her waist and toy with her clit, "Oh god."

He continued to work her clit and pound into her at an unreasonably fast pace, "Come fur me princess."

She slumped onto the mattress as she felt her orgasm hit her once more that night. Her chest heaved as she fought to catch her breath. His thrusts became sloppy as he felt himself get closer and closer to his release. He pulled out of her and Evie lazily rolled to her back. Her hair was plastered to her forehead but she just pushed it away and sat up. He was on his knees, and she quickly gripped his manhood. She stroked him a few times before opening her mouth and closing her plump lips around his member. He groaned and rested his hands on the back of her head as she bobbed up and down on him.

"aam sae close Evie." She applied light suction, hollowing out her cheeks and looked up to him. He met her gaze and lost himself at the twinkle in her gaze. He forced her further down on his member and held her there as he shot his seed down her throat. She moaned as she swallowed all of it. He loosened his grip on her head and she swirled her tongue around his member to clean him up before pulling off with a pop. The two lay down on the bed together, Harry's chest heaving. She put her head on his chest and dragged a nail around his chest, making random designs. He wrapped one arm around her and put the other behind his head. He placed a chaste kiss to her forhead.

"Evie, ye ur amazin'." She giggled slightly and snuggled deeper into him, "ah wasnae tay roogh was ah?" She rested her chin on his chest and looked up at him. She shook her head, a smile ever present on her face. He looked at her seriously and brought her closer to eye level, "aam serioos Evie. ah loove ye tay much tae hurt ye an' ah want tae ken if ah am. Ah dinnae want tae cause ye pain."

She kissed his lips, "I swear on my fashion line and dance career that you weren't too rough." She had a mischievous glint in her eyes, "I am a villain after all."

He growled lowly and brought her into another breathless kiss. "ye Evie ur magnificent."

"And you Harry are the love of my life." She fluttered her eyelashes and shifted her body so she tucked under his arm, "I love you Harry."

He watched as her eyes delicately closed and he pressed another kiss to the top of her head, "ah loove ye tay, Princess." He pulled her closer and let out a small sigh. This was the life he always wanted and he was happy he finally got his hands on it.

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