#but he’s got one eye open and his heart is like a jackrabbit’s | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

betterfettered · 1 year

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Bruh can I be honest and say your Yan! Leviathan kinda scares me because Levi already lives rent free in my head and I kinda don’t wanna know what would happen if he figured it out?

I’m literally not joking about leviathan straight up living inside my brain rent free, like he actively takes up a shit ton of my thoughts enough for me to get the Tetris effect when I sleep.

And idk why but something tells me that if he knew that I’m practically obsessed with him, I wouldn’t be touching grass or seeing anyone else ever again for my entire existence.

Hey anon!! I am sorry this took so long, it got really long (3k words!!) and kind of went in its own direction hahaha. I hope you like it!! It turns out that you were right, and no one will ever find you in his clutches LOLL Let me know what you think?

(AFAB!reader x AMAB!yandere)(Plus size reader💖🫡)(noncon)(stalking)(18+ readers only please, mdni)(sort of kind of an AU but not really?)[This is fetish content and rape and stalking are disgusting and inexcusable in real life.]

Your reaction was strange to Leviathan because he'd imagined it over and over again in his head no less than a thousand times but had not been able to divine what you actually reacted like. In his mind when he'd intentionally spilled his drink on himself you'd make a little surprised noise or say "oh no!" or laugh, but in reality you just frowned, your eyebrows lifting in shock.

The important part, however, you still did: you turned to your bag, rifling through it for some napkins, and offered them to him like it was nothing, like making his heart jackrabbit to the point of nearly shattering was nothing. He snatched them quickly so that you wouldn’t see how his hands shook in anticipation.

Okay, next say thank you, he said to himself and tried his hardest but was unable to pry his lips open or make eye contact with you or even breathe. When the elevator reached the floor that the both of you lived on, he sprinted from the elevator to get to his door, spilling plenty more cherry slushy on himself in the process. He could barely get his hands steady enough to get the key into his door, but the second he was inside and had slammed the door behind him he tossed his soiled jacket and the half empty slushy to the ground and hurried into his bedroom, dropping on his knees in front of his shrine of you.

Well, it wasn’t a shrine just yet. It was too small – he had only the things he could salvage from your trash, like an empty lipstick tube, a plastic fork from some takeout, a debit card statement listing all of your purchases six months ago. This was the first thing you had ever given to him, though, the first gift with your scent and blessing on it. He shut his eyes and held the napkins up to his nose, inhaling deeply and summoning the image of you to his mind.

Leviathan focused on your eyes, thinking about how your gaze meeting his meant that you were not looking at anyone else and, he imagined, not thinking about anyone else. It didn’t take long for the memory to become a fantasy: he imagined you looking at him still, but now with your bottom lip caught between your teeth out of sheer lust for him. Reaching into his nightstand for lube, he imagined your outfit, which was the standard button down and pencil skirt combination that was something of a uniform for office workers. It was unremarkable but for the way it hugged the soft protrusions of fat on your body. He liked to imagine that your larger size made you unpopular on the dating market, so he would (in his fantasies and occasionally dreams, when he was lucky) be the first to touch and squeeze and lick you – he’d be the only one that you granted such access to, because he and only he was that special to you.

He placed the stack of napkins on his bed and pushed his face down into them to free both hands to undo his belt and slather his cock with lube. Even just touching his shaft made him shiver and clench his jaw, but he didn’t start pumping just yet because his fantasy was still incomplete. First, he needed you to turn to him in his mind, walking towards him until you had sandwiched him up against the wall, every plump part of you pressing up against him like a full bodied hug. Then, when he nearly collapsed with desire both in reality and in his mind, you reached a hand down to his pants, running your hand back and forth over his cock and looking up at him and only him. Only then did he begin stroking, murmuring your name to himself and clutching his bed. It was only a minute or two before he reached his peak and came so hard into his other hand that he became incoherent, his own moans shoving your name out of his mouth to take its place.

Once he caught his breath and the immense pleasure receded, he was filled with a longing that made his eyes begin to tear, his mouth pressing together as he tried to hold himself together. He needed you. At this point, his fantasies were almost as torturous as they were alluring. Just imagining was not enough and never could be, because while he was here with you, you were off thinking about or talking to someone else. He needed the entirety of you and he needed to show you with his body just how much he worshipped you, the same way he did in his mind every night before sleeping.

His hands were slick with cum and lube, so he shut his eyes for a moment once more and rubbed two fingers into the other palm, imagining that it was your tummy covered in his cum instead, but could only tolerate the fantasy for a few seconds before climbing to his feet to go clean up both himself and the mess he’d made in the entryway. He spent the rest of the night hugging a pillow on his couch and watching the old Ruri-chan OVAs from his favorite season and trying to hold back the tears pressing against the backs of his eyes.

Leviathan did not see you again for another week – perhaps you had been working early or late. When you once again met in front of the elevator, he felt downright giddy and reflexively covered his face with the back of his hand, but the glee turned to pure shock when you turned to him and said “Oh, happy birthday, Levi!”

What he did not know was that the day before, a pair of gentlemen (one ginger, one with hair graying only at the tips) had mistakenly knocked on your door. The shorter one pointed and released a party popper right at your face, and the taller one held out a cake that had bites taken directly out of it. Surprise! They had said, and then the three of you were surprised indeed, because you were not who they were expecting and you had not been expecting anything but still could never have imagined this would happen. They asked for a Leviathan, you pointed them next door, and the one with the frosting on his face apologized around another bite he had taken right out of the cake. The other apologized, too, but distractedly, as he was preoccupied with sadness that he had wasted his only party popper on you instead of his brother.

No, Leviathan was not aware of any of that, because Beelzebub couldn’t control himself around the cake and Belphegor wanted a new party popper, so they gave up and planned to come back tomorrow, the actual day of, without saying a word to him. If Leviathan could have spoken in that moment, he would have asked you how you knew, but he could not, so instead he stared at the ground and tried to figure out how you knew. He didn’t generally think of himself as disposed to illogical thinking, so when it occurred to him that maybe, just maybe, you had been just as taken with him as he was with you, he figured it was the most obvious conclusion.

He imagined that you had gone home after giving him the napkin and touched yourself, too.

Maybe you also had a shrine for him in your home, and one of the things in it told you when he was born.

“Have I said something wrong…?” you asked, eyeing his stunned expression.

It was all he could do to shake his head, because you had actually said the best possible thing that you could have. Was he dreaming?

When the elevator arrived to the right floor, he allowed you to get off first and then trailed behind you, not even noticing the antlers starting to sprout out of his head and the scales started to spread across his skin. It was as though he was mesmerized by you and couldn’t do anything but follow.

You got to your door, opened it, and then cried out when you felt his full weight against your back, pinning you to the ground. His tailed whipped out and slammed the door shut behind the two of you, and he pressed his nose into your hair, inhaling and shivering a little, feeling his common sense melting away to be replaced with only intoxicating lust.

“What are you doing?!” You demanded, your voice wavering with fear. “Get off of me right now!”

He didn’t reply, only focusing on how the way you were struggling was rubbing your ass up against his cock and making him pant. Was it really possible that you were here beneath him, all his for the rest of your lives together? Distantly he wondered why you were struggling if you were obsessed with him, but brushed it away as not important.

“Please, just get off of me and leave,” you said, your voice becoming thick with the tears starting to pour down your face.

He got to his knees, putting one hand on your shoulder and one beneath your tummy, pulling both upwards to flip you onto your back. You only resisted for a few seconds before allowing him to turn you over onto your back, your shimmering wet eyes meeting his crazed ones and drawing another sob out of you. This did not seem to stop him, as he almost immediately rested back on top of you and pressed his lips to yours, jamming his long tongue into your mouth before you had a chance to clench your jaw. You gagged a little at the length of it, long enough to reach the back of your tongue, and tried to push him off of you, which he merely ignored until you stopped.

He only pulled away and sat up when he noticed your elbow working against your side, at which point he wanted to observe what you were doing with your hand. You were holding your cell phone and trying to type something into it, but as soon as you saw him notice it you pulled it closer to your face, typing as quickly as possible. He felt his heart sink: even though you were in love with him, you were thinking of someone else while he was kissing you. Despair settled over him until it gave way to a sort of panicked jealousy: would you ever unlearn this? Could he trust you to commit to only him? You were going to be his first (and already had been his first kiss)…was he really ready for this? This would be your first fight with each other as a couple.

While he was thinking, he snatched the phone from you and crushed it in his hand, tossing the broken bits aside and pouting.

“Who were you going to call?”

“N-no one.”

“O-okay, well then! Who were you g-gonna text?!” he asked, being able to hear how pathetic he sounded himself.

Try to sound like Lucifer! He told himself, and sat up a little straighter. You can do this, you can do this.

“Th-that…was cheating,” he said, and then tried making his voice a little deeper. “Don’t think of any one else. Ever again….uh, d-do I make m-myself c-clear?”

Complete fail, uggghhhh

It took a moment for you to calm yourself enough to speak.

“Please just let me go,” you repeated around sobs. “I won’t call the police or anything. I won’t even mention it to my friends. Just…please don’t....”

He climbed to his feet at that, though he didn’t leave you even a moment to think your pleas had worked on him before he wrapped you up in his tail, lifting you off of the ground and above his head. You cried out and struggled, kicking him with your feet a few times until he held you further away, but he paid no mind and instead locked and deadbolted the door behind the two of you, then walked deeper into your apartment, checking all of the doors in his path until he found your bedroom. He wanted to pause to look around and examine every last bit of you that the room contained, but he was so hard that it was starting to hurt, so he darted over to your bed and slammed you down onto your back, unwrapping his tail so he could sit down, push your legs up and put them on either side of his waist.

Unfortunately, you still had not learned your lesson about struggling, so he clamped his tail down on your neck to hold you still, tightening it when you started to move around too much, and grabbed both of your wrists to hold them beside your head where the end of his tail could wrap around them, too.

You were talking, or maybe just crying, but he couldn’t focus on that. His attention was completely absorbed by his cock pressing into the heat of your core and your writhing body.

He reached out with shaking hands and undid the buttons of your shirt, taking a while not because he was savoring it but rather because he was trying to undo them too impatiently with his uncoordinated fingers and not being that successful to the point that he ripped the last few buttons open in his haste. His hands pressed down into your plush stomach and then, after a moment of enjoying your inviting softness, he ran them upwards until he held your tits in both hands, squeezing them in a circular motion the way he had seen in a few hentai movies and then pushing his fingers into your bra to touch your bare skin and catch your nipples between his fingers, pinching them until you gave a short whimper that made his cock twitch. He slid his hands out and yanked the bra down to reveal them, then leaned down into your chest and shoved his face right in the center of it, squishing your tits against either side of his head while his hips started to buck against yours, greedily craving the friction between you. His face felt so hot at this point, and yet was no match for the warmth of lying there against your heart.

While he’d had plans to lick and suck your tits and maybe bite them a little to see if he could get you to make noise again, he didn’t think he could wait any longer to penetrate you, he sat up and shoved your skirt upwards around your waist until he could reach your panties, then pushed your legs together in front of him with his arms so he could pull them off of you (and stash them in his pocket). He felt so relieved that he’d only worn joggers today and didn’t need to bother with a belt or a zipper, so there was only a second between your panties being removed and the head of his cock pressed right into the folds of your pussy.

“Don’t! I’m begging, please don’t!” you wailed.

“But y-you’re wet,” he observed, rubbing his cock up and down your slit to spread your juices.

You didn’t reply fast enough; he lost patience and shoved into you with a desperate whine. It felt even better than he had imagined day after day all of this time, so he didn’t move at first to try and avoid cumming immediately. Instead, he reached for your hands, freeing them from his tail so he could weave his fingers into yours and press them into your sheets on either side of your head.

“L-look at me,” he panted, tightening his tail around your neck when you didn’t obey. “I s-said to look at me.”

It took a few seconds for you to run out of air and begin struggling to breathe, but you did eventually look at him, instantly making his heart pound. Suddenly, he felt unbearably shy, so he buried his face in your neck as he started to fuck you, slowly but insistently, his pelvis grinding up against yours like he couldn’t get deep enough inside of you, his moans muffled beside your face. Feeling your breasts jolt against him with each thrust he couldn’t help but start to fuck you a little harder, too, just to feel them bouncing beneath him.

He didn’t think to tell you when he was about to cum, since his mind was completely whiting out from the pleasure and his moans sounded frantic and irregular because he couldn’t quite control the sounds he was making, so you only knew that he was filling you when he stopped suddenly, releasing your hands to grab your hips hard enough to hurt and pull you as close into him as possible. His entire body shook against yours for a while. Once he relaxed, still panting but not digging his fingers into your flesh as hard any more, his entire frame draped over yours with exhaustion.

Ten minutes later, he finally sat up to address you, lovingly stroking your hair and cheek.

"That was so much better than in my head. I don't think I've ever been this happy in my life.

“Um, I don’t think you finished, right? S-sorry, I’m…anyway, I’ll read a little more about how to satisfy you on reddit! Then I’ll show you what I learned. We have a lot of time for me to practice until I get it right. I'll definitely make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

“Just let me go,” you murmured, out of tears.

“I never will,” he answered, his voice so resolute that it grew steady even if for only a moment as he promised that. “I’m in l-love with you, a-and you’re going to love me. And only me, no one else. If you think of anyone else, I’ll…I’ll hurt them. And you, too.”

Perhaps you weren’t out of tears after all, as the words made you start to cry again.

This time, he pulled you upwards and wrapped you in his arms while still inside you, grateful for the opportunity to feel as though he was taking care of you. His mind was already starting to wander to plans of where you both would live, how he could punish you to make sure you never spoke to any one else again, and what he would tell his brothers and closest gaming buddies about the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Dreams really did come true. The two of you only had happily ever after in store for you.

#yandere #yandere x reader #betty fetty #tw noncon #cw noncon #tw: noncon #obey me leviathan #leviathan x reader #obey me levi x you #obey me levi x reader #yandere smut #omswd smut #obey me smut #obey me levi

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thelioncourts · 3 months

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Fifty, one hundred, two hundred, five hundred, a thousand, two thousand. Louis didn’t know — couldn’t know — how many times he and Lestat had made love over their years, how many times he had spread open his legs to accommodate Lestat’s slim hips slotting against his own, how many times he had held onto those broad shoulders and pricked the skin with his nails, how many times Lestat had muttered “I love you. Je t’aime, Louis. Je t’aime,” as those same slim hips started to stutter in their rhythm, how many times they had come apart in each other’s arms. What he did know was that no amount of time was enough. He always wanted more, even when he didn’t, and he never quite got used to it, never adjusted to the stretch of Lestat’s cock inside of him, of the feeling of their skin pressing against one another, of the all-consuming closeness of their hearts finding the same beat like two dancers falling into step. Each time felt anew; a wedding night time loop of devotion, consummated by the ever-always spill of blood. Tonight had begun no differently in the sense that Louis was so hungry, was starving, and Lestat had seen that hunger in his eyes and immediately went about sating it. “Un bon repas doit commencer par la faim,” he had said to Louis then, the glint of his teeth almost menacing in the muted light of their bedroom, and it had been followed by a hotly whispered promise in Louis’ ear as he divested them both of clothes that he’d have Louis’ thighs shaking soon. They’d kissed and kissed and kissed, kissed until their lips were swollen and wet, kissed until they were grinding in desperation, kissed until Louis — too far gone to be embarrassed about it — told, begged, demanded that Lestat get inside of him, that Lestat open him up and push the fat head of his cock in, that Lestat’s blood fill his belly, that Louis’ entire insides become him and only him. And Lestat, unable to do anything but listen, had done just that. He’d pressed Louis into the down of their mattress, continued to kiss him as he fingered Louis open, swallowing the whines he produced. He’d kissed down Louis’ neck, kissed the hard bone of Louis’ sternum, took a nipple into his mouth and suckled at it, all while pressing his fingers, one, two, three of them, deep into Louis’ hole, bringing him just to the brink, before relishing in the cry, in the anguished blood tears welling in Louis’ beautiful green eyes, when he wasn’t allowed to come.

But, always hungry too, Lestat hadn’t wanted to put off anything any longer and too quickly, not quickly enough, he had Louis’ left calf resting up on his shoulder as he pressed inside of him. Louis had immediately wrapped his arms around Lestat’s shoulders then, needing him closer and needing something to ground him, as the weight of Lestat’s cock left him open, as his body lunged out to pull Lestat inside even further. It had been rough then, the snap of Lestat’s hips, his faultless thrusts, the way he tried to take root in Louis’ body as though he could tie them together so they would never part. Louis had taken it and taken it, repressing his cries into the space between Lestat’s neck and shoulder, too aware of the hummingbird-quick patter of Lestat’s pulse felt through his carotid artery and skin, too aware that he was asking for more, that he was meeting Lestat’s movements just to feel the way Lestat bottomed out, just to hear the sweat-wet slap of their skin in the otherwise quiet of their bedroom.

As everything had come to a height, Louis instinctually bit down into Lestat’s skin, his fangs piercing the otherwise unmarred flesh. He’d bit down and had been encouraged quickly to drink. “Yes,” Lestat had groaned into his ear, his thrusts jackrabbiting for just a moment, “drink from me, Louis. Take what is yours,” and Louis had done just that, had moaned deep in his chest as he swallowed mouthfuls of Lestat’s rich, warm blood, moaned as it warmed his stomach and settled in the same area within him where his pleasure was cresting. When he had come, his thighs had been shaking, and they continued to as Lestat reached his own end, as he released deep inside of Louis’ welcoming body. Moments had passed, moments where they’d lain there unmoving, Lestat still cradled in the spread of Louis’s arms and legs, but it ended quickly because Lestat had pulled back, had been intent on looking at his love’s post-coital glow, and had been pleasantly surprised and all too excited to see that hunger still there, still directed at him, still awaiting satiation.

That led them to where they were now.

Lestat was sitting at the edge of the bed, one hand pressed down onto the mattress for stability, the other wrapped around Louis’ lithe waist. Louis was in his lap, had been there since Lestat had said in that teasing tone of his, “Gourmand, l’êtes-vous?” and Louis had grinned wildly at him before pushing him down and climbing atop of him, eager and wanting. But that playfulness had quickly dissipated, had become something intimate, something more, and the shift of the mood was enough to have them both near tears. They were entirely wrapped around one another now, Louis moving slowly as he rode Lestat, as he sunk down on his cock, his cock that felt even bigger at this angle. Louis wondered if he could feel it in his throat, if it would meet the blood still coating his esophagus. The air going into Louis was the air Lestat breathed, and vice versa, and they were kissing, were kissing and kissing and kissing, and only stopping so Lestat could pull back, pull back far enough that Louis could see the strand of saliva that kept their mouths connected glistening in the light, pull back far enough so Lestat could keep saying, “I love you, Louis,” as he always did. The confession, the proclamation, was one Louis had heard in abundance but he never tired of it, never tired of the way Lestat’s blue eyes shone with the truth of it, and it made Louis — somehow, in some way — want him even more. It made him want Lestat closer, and he found his hips moving on their own in the desire to make that happen, rising and falling quickly so he never had to go more than a moment without Lestat inside of him. He could feel Lestat’s hand that was wrapped around his waist tightening its grip and, for a desperate moment, he regretted his vampiric healing, wanting nothing more than to stand up later when his legs were working again and see the bruises against his hip, see the possession of Lestat’s fingerprints in his skin.

Once again, everything was coming to a height. Lestat’s breath was deep, was low in chest, was coming out in harsh pants against Louis’ mouth, and Louis wanted the groan of Lestat’s climax inside of him too, wanted to swallow it the same way he swallowed his blood, wanted to consume it just so he could be consumed in return. Louis was moving quicker then, just to make it happen, was using the strength of his thighs to push himself up, to drop himself down, to go faster and faster until Lestat’s bruising grip on his hip turned crushing, until Lestat was thrusting up into his body to try to take root again, until Lestat did groan into his mouth, hot and heavy, and the feeling of it, of his warm skin against Louis’, of his breath entering Louis’ lungs, of his come coating Louis insides, was too much and Louis groaned back into Lestat’s own mouth before tossing his head back, before he came against their stomachs, clenching down on Lestat’s cock as though he could still keep him entirely inside of him, could keep them together forever.

Lestat’s hand wasn’t crushing in its hold anymore, but was soothing, running down Louis’ back, rubbing circles into the sensitive and thin skin at Louis’ groin, all while he placed kisses across the exposed skin of Louis’ bared throat, down his chest, and on the jut of his collarbone as he shivered with aftershocks of pleasure.

Louis couldn’t keep his hands to himself either, found them tangling in Lestat’s blood sweat tinged hair, tracing along his cut jaw, pushing that same hair from in front of Lestat’s face. He could feel Lestat’s spend inside of him starting to wet the inside of his thighs a little, most of it still plugged by the girth of Lestat’s cock, and the realization of it, the acknowledgement of how right it was, how filthy it was, was almost enough to get Louis going again. He raised his head to say just that, wanting to hear Lestat groan again, wanting to hear the lust-drunk slur of his words as he said something like, “Are you trying to kill me, Louis? Oh, what a way to go, pressed inside the heat of your body. Do you ache for my cock that much? Do you need to feel it inside of you always, need to be opened and filled, hm?” but he was stopped by the slowing of Lestat’s kisses against his skin, stopped by the way he could feel Lestat’s hold on him start to slacken. “Do you miss this, Louis?” Lestat asked instead, murmured it against Louis’ skin. “Do you miss me?” Louis tried to raise his head again and let out a confused and frustrated sound when he was stopped once more. Why did Lestat sound so sad? Why wasn’t he as pleasure-contented as Louis was then? Louis’ limbs were heavy, the satisfaction bone-deep, and Lestat —

“Why did you leave me there, Louis?”

Blood. Louis could feel it, could feel the familiar stickiness of it, could smell its familiar metallic tang all around. It was all over him, all over them.

“Les?” Louis said, that same confused sound escaping him. He pushed back, refusing to be stopped once again, and looked down. He wanted to search Lestat’s eyes, to find answers there, wanted to find where the blood was coming from, wanting to find what was ruining this shared intimacy, but everything turned cold the moment he did.

It was Lestat below him, but it wasn’t. This Lestat, this thing, was dead. The hair that had just been wet with blood sweat was sopping with blood now, the redness of it turning blond to copper, and there was a gash in that throat, a gash that ran from one end to the next, canyon-like in its depth, and it was spilling blood, overflowing with it, the blood rolling down Lestat’s bare chest in rivers. But worse than all of that were his eyes. Those blue eyes Louis’ found truth in always, those blue eyes that had been the first to ever see him, those blue eyes that held the galaxy within their color.

They were rolled back in Lestat’s skull, the whites the only part visible in this death, the blue hiding, keeping the truth Louis so desperately needed right then hidden. “Les?” Louis said again. His hands were shaking as he brought them to Lestat’s face, as he hesitantly touched him, fingers resting underneath that strong chin. Just as quickly as this all had changed, Lestat’s eyes rolled back, snapping forward, and Louis gasped, scrambled in an attempt to jump up and away, but that slackened grip was crushing again, was hard and horrible, and the blood was rolling even more now, was flooding their bedroom. “Why did you leave me there, Louis?” Lestat asked him again, but it was angry this time, was asked in a terrible voice. It didn’t even sound like Lestat, it sounded like a monster, like — A flash of white fangs. Louis jolted up, gasping for air, his hands violently reaching out for something, anything, to pull him out of the pool of blood. Only…

Only he wasn’t drowning at all. He felt untamed as he looked around him, trying to make sense of what was going on. “We’re on the boat, Louis,” a voice said from somewhere across from him. Claudia’s voice. When he found her, she was sitting against the wooden paneling of whatever room they were in, a book perched on her knees, her stare unreadable. The boat. The boat. The boat. That’s right. They were on a boat. They were leaving New Orleans, were on their way to — He copied her then, scooting himself up against the wood paneling behind him too, settling all of his weight into his shoulders and resting them there. The ship was moving, gently rocking them as it traveled across the ocean, as it brought them closer to the adventure that awaited them. “We’re on the boat, Louis,” Claudia repeated, firmer this time. Louis nodded, cleared his throat too loudly, fiddled with the hem of his shirt, and stared down at his clean hands. “Yeah, I know,” he said. He felt, more than saw, the way her eyebrows fell at the too-quiet way he spoke, at the way just those three words and the way he said them confessed everything. “What’re you reading?”

He asked it quickly, asked it louder, asked it so the silence wasn’t so loud. It was obvious she knew he didn’t actually need or want to know in that instance what she was reading, but, gratefully — though not without allowing him to stew in the uncomfortable quiet for a moment longer — she answered, telling him all about the words scattering the pages of the well-worn novel in her hand.

As she spoke, Louis did his best to calm his breathing, to bring it back to some semblance of normalcy. He didn’t want to feel like this. He couldn’t go on feeling like this. He had to find some kind of peace again, he had to if he wanted to survive.

Claudia was still talking, was getting more into iterating to him the plot of her book, as a voice in the back of Louis’ mind reminded him unkindly that he felt most at peace when his heart had Lestat’s to synchronize to. And, like it was happening again, Louis could almost hear the familiar pulse of Lestat’s heart from his dream, could feel the pattern it beat in, could feel its strength. “We’re on the boat, Louis,” Claudia repeated yet a third time when she noticed him entering a whole different world, and all Louis could do was nod again, hoping she wasn’t reaching out into his head, hoping she couldn’t hear him allowing himself to wonder for the first time if he’d ever know peace again.

He made himself search his own luggage for a book, just to convince Claudia he was fine, just to assuage her worries, and, like it was inevitable, he found himself reaching for his copy of Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus. It felt fitting then. Claudia seemed to agree, snorting out a little laugh as he settled the novel into his own lap, though Louis was sure they agreed for different reasons.

Claudia was, no doubt, thinking of the actual plot of the book, of its themes of life and death and creation.

Louis was thinking of Mary Shelley and the way she kept the remains of her husband’s heart with her until the day she herself died.

#i just wrote this #like - in three hours so it's probably so full of mistakes but i couldn't let it go #my writing

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twitterpated-passion · 10 months

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Forever and a Day | Monster Boyfriend

Everyone around you always told you you were crazy…that you’d never accomplish much. Not that you ever tried to prove them wrong. You only let them believe what they wanted to believe. Their opinion didn’t matter, because you weren’t crazy, and you could accomplish stuff that you thought was important.

It didn’t help your self-esteem though. It only got worse and worse with each comment. Well, until Kyna, a jackrabbit hybrid, appeared in your life. That’s when everything changed. That’s when your life turned around for the better.

He came into the coffeehouse you worked at one random day, and just like that…it was like a spark shot inside of you, blowing up in a million different fireworks. You fell quickly, but you never actually told him, appreciating his friendship far more than you cared about risking him not returning your feelings.

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

You prepped the machine, already getting Kyna’s coffee ready for him before he came in. He ordered the same thing everyday: a tall coffee with three espresso shots, two pumps of vanilla, creamer and four tablespoons of sugar. He brought his own cinnamon, despite you saying that you had some you could add, but he’d only wave his hand in the air, add it and say something along the lines of ‘it’s different when you do it yourself’. You’d only laugh and take your fifteen minute break to hang out with him, spending what time you could with him before he had to head into work.

It was like clockwork when he’d show up and when he’d leave. You admired his schedule, but you also admired that he always seemed to drop what he was doing if you wanted to hang out. He seemed to live for you…and that in itself gave you something to live for in return.

Today was no different, you perked up when you heard the bell attached to the door ring and you watched as he walked in, large ears stood up on the top of his head like always, a chunky sweater swallowing his plush body whole as he donned his normal pair of cowboy boots and jeans. A walking representation of cozy country. You smiled when his eyes lit up at the sight of you and he rushed over, only to see you holding out his coffee. “You made it already?”

“You order the same thing, Bunny, kinda hard not to prep it.” Red tinged his tan cheeks at the nickname, something he used to hate being called, yet got soft on it whenever you said it, so it stuck pretty fast. “Don’t worry about paying either, I already put the money in the register.”

He pouted a little, giving you a small look before sighing and nodding. “Right. I’ll accept it, but only because I know you’re too stubborn to let me pay you back.”

Your smile widened. “Glad you’ve learned, Bun’.”

You watched as he shot you a small look, grabbing the coffee from your hand before tugging out that container of cinnamon from his bag, adding just a bit to his coffee before stirring it and sipping it, the smile on his face making your heart soar. Your eyes softened as you looked up at him, glancing over at your co-worker before she simply gave you a nod and you quickly went around from behind the counter, following him to his normal table like a lost puppy, sitting with him and letting him take your hand, enjoying the warmth of his calloused fingers, the roughness of his skin scratching at your skin, but you hardly cared.

“So, we still on for movie night?” Kyna asked after a moment of silence. You nodded, not wasting a second.

“Duh, you should bring that snack mix you make sometimes. It’s great and it’d suit binging bad movies until we can’t handle it anymore.” He smiled, scrunching his nose at you before nodding, squeezing your hand.

“Anything for you,” he said. There was a beat of silence between you two, but he ended it, opening his mouth and asking, “You got anyone new in your life?”

You snort. “Me? Oh, no, you’d be the first person to know and even then, I’d probably be kidding myself.”

“Yea, but I want you to get out there more, you’re great, anyone would want to be friends with you,” he started, squeezing your hand again. “And hey, maybe you might find a date? It wouldn’t hurt to try.”

You shook your head. “Nah, not really looking for someone. Sounds like you’re trying to get rid of me.”

You were teasing, obviously, but he shook his head, smile faltering a little. “Never. You’re stuck with me and I’m stuck with you. Forever and always.”

“Forever and a day,” you mumble back, meaning it with your entire heart.

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

Sitting down at a table, you scroll through your phone, a little smile on your face as you look through everything, only to jump when you feel a hand on your shoulder, your eyes snapping up, only to see Kyna there. “Oh, good, it’s just you.”

“‘It’s just you’? Ouch, hon, you’d think I’d get a better greeting, being your best friend and all.” You rolled your eyes at his dramatics, waving your hand in the air dismissively before standing and hugging him. “Missed you.”

“It’s been a day since we saw each other, Bunny.”

“A day too long,” He mumbled. You smiled at his words, squeezing him tighter. After a few seconds, you two parted and you both sat down, your phone’s screen facing the table as you put all of your focus on him. Though, that wasn’t anything unusual for you.

Kyna bit at his lip and reached out for your hand, gripping it as his thumb rubbed against your knuckles. Your eyes fell to your hand in his and you felt your cheeks heat up, taking the initiative to squeeze his hand. “You good, Bun’? You look a little nervous.”

He nodded, smiling over at you before squeezing your hand back. “I’m good. Work’s just been stressful recently.”

With a small pout, you nodded a little. “Sorry, Bunny.”

“You gotta stop doing that,” he said. “You keep apologizing for things that aren’t your fault.”

Your cheeks flushed further and you chuckled nervously. “Old habits die hard.”

“That habit should be sixty feet under,” he said. A smile appeared on your face, a wide, genuine one- one that made him smile too. “I’m serious, you need to stop apologizing for shit that isn’t your fault.”

“Yea, but then I wouldn’t see your ears flop like they do, or the way the space between your brow crinkles,” you said. Kyna’s smile widened, turning into a goofy, lopsided grin, making your smile widen, heart soaring at the sight. You bit down on the tip of your tongue, not hard enough to hurt, but just hard enough to suppress the laugh that wanted to leave.

You loved it when he got like that, all happy and carefree. It made him look younger…like he didn’t have as many worries as he did. And you loved it even more when you made him like that. It made you more happy than you could imagine, and despite it being impossible, every single time you got that reaction, you fell in love just a little bit more.

You blinked when Kyna snapped his fingers in front of your face, waving his hand afterwards. “You good, hon?”

With another blink, you nodded, getting out of your thoughts and waving your free hand in the air. “Yea, just thinking.”

“About?” He asked, smile still on his face.

“Don’t worry about it,” you responded, scrunching your nose at him. “It’s nothin’ bad, Bunny, promise.”

He seemed to relax at that, but you still felt the squeeze he gave your hand, calloused fingers digging into your skin a little tighter, a worried look in his eye. Your smile slightly faltered. “You alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You just have this…look in your eye…I don’t know.” His grip got tighter and it was like the mood shifted ever-so-slightly. You were concerned, but he moved your hands, lifting it gently before intertwining his fingers with yours, a soft breath leaving him, his nose twitching. That when you knew something was up. “Kyna…what’s wrong? Don’t lie, your nose twitched.”

He sighed, lips pursing a little before he opened his mouth, then shut it almost immediately after. He shook his head. “Not right now, hon.”

“Later?” He nodded. You got the feeling he was telling the truth.

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

You paid for the drinks and Kyna tossed down a tip before the two of you made your way out of the restaurant, his arm around your shoulders, your left hand lifted and holding onto his hand. “So, you gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

He huffed out a breath and glanced down at you. “You really don’t give up, do you?”

Meeting his eyes, you shot him a look. “You know me. Do I ever give up?”

Kyna smiled, shaking his head. “Nah, you don’t. One of the things I love about you.”

Your eyes widened slightly and his smile grew, a scoff leaving him as he pulled his arm back and nudged you. “You really couldn’t tell?”

“Tell what?” You asked, but you knew what he meant. You just wanted him to say it. You needed him to say it.

One of his brows raised and you grinned up at him, flush touching your cheeks when he tilted your head up when you two got to the curb of the sidewalk, your back against the streetlight before he leaned down and pressed his lips onto yours. Letting out a muffled sound, your eyes fluttered shut and you were quick to kiss him back, arms throwing themselves over his shoulders, pulling him deeper into the kiss.

He loved you. He loved you. He loved you.

He knew you loved him too.

When you two parted, you slowly opened your eyes, smile on your lips as you caught your breath. He looked down at you, the same goofy grin on his face as he asked, lips brushing against yours, “You know what I’m talking about.”

Your smile grew and you kissed him again.

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

You breathed out a huff, shoving the last box into the unfurnished living room, standing up straight and wiping your forehead free from the sweat that sat on it thanks to your adventure into moving. Kyna walked out to the living room, not looking any better as he lifted his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face and you couldn’t help but stare at the pudge of his stomach, resisting the urge to grab at it and love on it. Your eyes fell to the way his sweats hung on his hips, catching some of his tail sitting on his back.

“Enjoying the show, love?” You heard him ask, snapping out of your mind before flushing and going back to the boxes. He snorted, walking over to you with a little hop and pressed a kiss to your head. “You’re not slick.”

“Shuddup,” you responded, burying your head against his chest when he pulled you into his arms, kissing your head again. “I just…”

“You just what?” Kyna asked teasingly.

“I like your body,” you muttered against his shirt. “It’s soft.”

His expression softened and he squeezed you. “I like your body too, love.”

He felt the smile you made against his body, squeezing you once more before letting go and lowering his hand to give you a little swat. “Let’s unpack.”

You shot him a shocked look, eyes wide and lips parted before running after him, letting him let out a yell and watching him hop into a run down the hall and up the stairs of your shared house, his laugh contagious as you ran after him, laughing at him as he traps himself in the bedroom, slamming the door shut.

God, you loved him.

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

Walking into the house, you had a smile plastered on your face, nudging the door shut with your foot and calling out towards Kyna, knowing he was home from work already, “‘M home, Bunny!”

“Bedroom!” Kyna called in response and you nodded to yourself, setting the paper bag you got from the farmer’s market down, setting your keys beside it before shrugging out of your -his- hoodie. You tossed it on the couch and jogged down the hall and up the stairwell, slowing to a walk as you walked in your room, only to stop five steps in your and Kyna’s room, eyes wide and quickly welling with tears.

He was on one knee, holding a ring in his large hand, pinched between his thumb and pointer finger. His ears were straight up and he was wearing that sweater he knew you loved. He gave you a soft smile, moving on his other knee, holding the ring towards you, urging you to take it. “Marry me? Please?”

You felt tears run down your cheeks and you nodded, letting him slip the ring on your finger before wiping your tears, accepting your hug when you practically threw yourself onto him, smothering his face with kisses. You held onto him tightly, hands digging into his sweater, face buried in the crook of his neck as he held you silently, kissing your temple and letting you calm down.

You did, eventually, pulling away from him and grinning up at him, sniffling before kissing him again. “Love you,” you mumbled against his lips.

“Love you more,” he teased, kissing you again, holding your left hand. “Now we can really be together forever.”

Your grin grew and you nodded. “...Forever and a day.”

Kyna beamed, tears pricking his own eyes as he nodded. “...Forever and a day, sweetheart…”

He hugged you again, squeezing you tightly, like he didn’t want to let go. Then again, neither did you, especially when he kissed your cheek and mumbled, “I can’t wait to love you for the rest of my life.”

That only made you start crying again. Something he immediately tried to stop, shushing you and wiping your tears, despite his own rolling down his cheeks as you two took in the moment. Completely in love and so, utterly ready to take on the rest of your lives together.

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

You look through paint swatches, sighing and leaning against the couch, tossing them on the kitchen island and dropping your head in your hands. You felt hands on your shoulders, thumbs digging into your shoulders and easing out the tension as Kyna kissed your head. “Why don't you take a break, love?”

“We have nine months until our wedding, Bun’, I can’t.” You looked back up at him, relaxing nonetheless when you looked up at him. There was a beat of silence, but when you glanced back at the paint swatches, you sighed again. “...Maybe I should.”

He smiled, obviously proud of you before pulling you off of the stool and into his arms. “C’mon, we’re taking a nap.”

You leaned into his body, nodding with a small noise. “Please,” you said.

His thumbs rubbed your body gently and he kissed your nose, carrying you up into your room and laying in bed with you, letting you curl your body into his. “...I can’t believe we have less than a year until we’re married.”

Kyna hummed in agreement. “I know, love, it’s getting closer and closer. But, when we’re married, we’re taking that honeymoon and enjoying ourselves and then we’re gonna come back here and be a real, responsible married couple.”

You hummed back at him, eyes looking up at him. “I love you.”

He smiled at the confession, kissing your forehead, grabbing your hand as the other wrapped around your body. “I love you more.”

“I love you the most,” you responded, mumbling as your exhaustion came over you, forcing your eyes shut and your breathing to slow. Kyna squeezed your hand, smiling down at your sleeping form before tossing a leg over yours and falling asleep with you, pulling you closer to his body, feeling your hands sleepily grip his shirt.

God, he loved you so much.

Hours later, you woke up to him making dinner, a color scheme he knew you’d like laid out on the kitchen island, staring up at you when you looked at it. “You should’ve woken me up when you woke up.”

“You’ve been stressed with work and the wedding. I wanted you to get your sleep,” he said, glancing back at you. You gazed up at him, a soft, sleepy look on your face. “You look like you need more sleep.”

“I’m fine,” you said, shaking your head before walking over to him and wrapping your arms around him, kissing his back. “Thank you.”

“For?” Kyna asked, confused as to why you were suddenly thanking him.

“Just being you,” you said, kissing his back again. “I just…I love you so much…I’m really happy you love me back.”

He smiled softly, turning to face you, pulling you into his arms. “I couldn’t not love you, sweetheart, you’re my favorite person in the world.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that, looking up at him and resting your chin on his chest. “You mean that?”

“With all of my heart, love. I couldn’t imagine anyone else being my favorite person, the love of my life…my future spouse.” Your smile grew and he lowered his head down to kiss you. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you responded, looking up at him happily. “For forever and a day.”

His smile widened at that. “Good. Good. Because I’ll love you for forever and a day too.”

You knew he meant it.

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

You rushed through the door, plastic bag covering your wedding outfit in hand and a grin on your face. You couldn’t wait to show Kyna. “I’m home, Bunny!”

There was no response. Which was odd, since he was home when you left, and you were only gone for twenty-five minutes to pick it up too.

Your brows furrowed and you set it down on the couch, setting your keys down in the bowl with his keys, walking around the house and checking each room, but Kyna was nowhere to be seen. Even weirder.

You looked out the window, confirming that his car was in the driveway, right beside yours. You turned around when you felt a hand touch you, jumping when you saw Kyna, watching him chuckle a little before giving you a small look. “You’re jumpy today, sweetheart. You good?”

“I couldn’t find you in the house. Like anywhere. I checked everywhere. Where were you?” You asked, trying to calm your heart, but when you saw the flash of fear in his eyes, and his nose twitched, you couldn’t calm your heart, not when you knew something was wrong. “Bunny?”

“...Love…hon…we…we need to talk,” he said softly, grabbing your hands. Fear flashed across your face and your mind started flooding with ‘what ifs’. He brought you to your bed and sat you down, tucking some hair behind your ear. “...You remember when we got together…when you asked if something was wrong?”

“That was almost three years ago, Bun-”

“I know…” he said. “...I…I never did actually tell you what was wrong.”

Your brows furrowed again. “...What?”

He squeezed your hands. “...Honey…I’m not…well…here…so to speak.”

“What?” You repeated. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not real, baby…” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Bunny- Kyna, this isn’t funny.”

“I’m not trying to be funny…” Kyna said, pulling you closer. “...Sweetheart…that day at the restaurant…I…I had an accident at work. Someone didn’t put something on right and…well…I got the brunt of it…”

You swallowed thickly, shaking your head, but the look on his face…how serious he was being. Your heart almost stopped, tears pricking your eyes. “But…but you’re here. You’re with me. We’re getting married in three months…!”

“And if I was here with you…we’d be doing that…but I’m not, honey. I haven’t been for a long time.” He was crying, shoulders shaking as his hands gripped your hands tightly.

You felt tears run down your cheeks soon after. You felt like your heart was torn out, especially when he went over to his nightstand, opening it, tugging out an open envelope, something you don’t remember seeing. He handed it to you and you shakily took it. You opened the flap and pulled out a card, a sob ripping from your lips when you saw it.

It was a funeral invitation, done up in Kyna’s favorite color and flower, saying the date was the week after you two got together. “...I don’t remember getting this.”

“You blocked out everything about it…and I mean everything…it was like it never even happened for you,” he explained softly, sitting back down beside you and touching your hand.

“...So you’re not here…?”

“...Not physically, no,” he answered. “But…I’m always gonna be with you, sweetheart. I did love you…I always have…from the day we met. But I was a chicken shit and never confessed.”

“...Until that day…”

“...Until that day,” he confirmed. He grabbed your chin and planted a small, chaste kiss on your lips. “I will always love you. I promise.”

“...For forever and a day…?” You ask. He gave you a wet smile, nodding.

“...For forever and a day.”

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sunflowervoltwentyeight · 1 year

Photo

Hello! Happy 28th! Very excited to share my March 2023 fic rec! All of the fics below are so amazing. In no particular order, enjoy!!!

Golden by shaylea (128k)

Harry is fully dressed when Louis returns to the room. He’s slumped on the edge of the bed, fingers twining awkwardly around the edge of his pink flounces. “Can I come?” he blurts when Louis opens the bathroom door. Louis freezes. “What?” “North. With you,” Harry clarifies. “If you’re going north, could I come too?”

On a rainy night in Auckland in the middle of his world tour, popstar Harry Styles loses his ability to carry on. Instead of continuing to Sydney and the rest of his tour, he seeks sanctuary with Louis Tomlinson, a man with a macadamia nut farm and a mysterious past.

I’ll Fly Away by @juliusschmidt (122k)

Harry and Louis grew up together in Lake County, Harry with his mom and stepdad in a tiny cottage on Edward’s Lake and Louis in his family’s farmhouse a few minutes down the road. But after high school, Louis stuck around and Harry did not; Harry went to Chicago where he found a boyfriend and couple of college degrees. Six years later, Harry ends up back in Edwardsville for the summer and he and Louis fall into old patterns and discover new ones.

ft. One Direction, the local boyband; Horan’s Bar and Grill; families, most especially children and babies; Officer Liam Payne; many local festivals and fireworks displays; and Anne Cox, PFLAG President.

Mine Would Be You by @crinkle-eyed-boo (114k)

Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.

Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.

Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) by lucythegoosey / @harryrainbows (95k)

Harry was in the biggest boy band in the world. He was also one half of the best (or worst, depends on who you ask) kept secret relationship in the music industry.

Now, almost five years on, after One Direction has broken up, and Harry and Louis' relationship has as well, a video threatens to put everything at risk.

One determined Irishman, a massive publicity stunt and two begrudging exes are all it takes to bring One Direction back to life and maybe, just maybe, Harry and Louis' mangled love life too.

Or: Harry and Louis are forced to fake-date after an old video from when they were dating emerges.

Wild Love by purpledaisy / @harrydaisy (130k)

“Good,” Julia says, clearly pleased to have them both uncomfortable and unable to look at each other. “Now, I only have one more question before you can go. What are you planning to do when this experiment ruins your friendship?”

“We said we’d stay friends no matter what,” Harry says smoothly, his chin lifting in defense.

“That was our one thing going into it,” Louis agrees. “Stay friends no matter what.”

Julia raises a perfectly manicured brow, “That’s all fine and good. But I hope you realize your emotions aren’t going to realize this is an experiment in the end. If one of you falls for the other and finds out those feelings are not reciprocated, you’re not going to be able to laugh it off as a social experiment. I’m not saying you shouldn’t do this, I’m just hoping you’ve considered all of the possible outcomes.”

- AU: Two best friends try to date each other for forty days. It's supposed to be fun until emotions make it complicated.

Part one of Wild Love

Never Slows Down by purpledaisy / @harrydaisy (28k)

“Maybe we should just have one place instead,” he says. “Just move in together.” It’s heavier out loud, the first time either one of them has made an outright mention of it.

Harry keeps his back turned, the running water of the sink the only sound. Louis wants to say something stupid, something like, “Just kidding,” or, “Wait, no, that’s not what I meant,” but he doesn’t. Now, out loud, lingering, he doesn’t want to change the words he’s just said or the implication.

It must only be a few seconds but it feels like a lifetime before Harry turns off the water and turns to face him again. He swallows and shrugs, “Uh, yeah, maybe.” He meets Louis’s eyes only briefly before checking his watch. “We should go soon,” he says turning to leave the kitchen. “I’ll grab you a jacket.”

Part two of Wild Love

Being of the Jealous Kind by zita17 / @louisandtheaquarian (24k)

A-list actor Louis Tomlinson and his partner fashion photographer Harry Styles weather the storm that is Louis’ fake relationship with his costar in the lead up to this year’s Academy Awards.

Featuring a fluffy teenage meet-cute, an angsty wine drunk Harry melting down over pap pics, Louis habitually overusing the word “baby,” and cameos by a vintage Umbro sweatshirt, the peace ring, and one hell of a Larry hug.

Or the justice for To Be So Lonely fic. Based on the lyrics to TBSL and a prompt where “Louis has to fake date some celebrity, while his boyfriend Harry sits at home.”

Starry Haze, Crystal Ball by you_explode (10k)

Freedom. Harry’s not sure what exactly it means anymore. For him, for Louis. Personally. Professionally. Musically. There are so many layers to it, and it feels like as he gets older, the thicker those layers become.

Non-AU. A brief look at 2020 and the journey Harry and Louis are on with their careers and closet. Inspired by the Devil card.

Drifting, Weightless by dinosaursmate (45k)

“We’ve been asked to do a gig,” Niall said slowly. “Harry and Liam are completely up for it, I am too.” “Alright. What’s the catch?” Louis asked with suspicion. “It’s, um…” Niall cleared his throat. “So, Juliana was contacted by this themed cruise company, and they want us to do a four-day One Direction cruise.” The words hung in the air as Louis’ right eyebrow slowly crept up and he fixed Niall with a stare. “Absolutely not.” Louis rolled his eyes. “You’re essentially asking me to go on a working holiday with my ex. Stranded on a boat in the ocean for four days.” “Cruise ships are huge! You don’t have to see him in your down time.” --- Harry and Louis are exes with benefits until they're not, and the Mediterranean Sea might just be the perfect place to work through some unresolved issues.

#28th appreciation #larry fic rec #fic rec #read #2023 fic rec

139 notes · View notes

hlficlibrary · 1 year

Text

✤ Exes Fics ✤

A series of posts with the top five fics of each category tag on ao3 by kudos plus five more hidden gems from that category! Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find our other recs here.

- Top 5 H/L Fics -

1️⃣ got the sunshine on my shoulders by @hattalove [E, 124k]

five years ago, harry styles left his tiny home town to make it big as a recording artist. he didn't have much regard for what he left behind - a life, a family, and a husband, who woke up one morning to find him gone.

now, harry has everything he could possibly want: he's rich, famous, and adored by everyone he meets, including his boyfriend. but when said boyfriend proposes to him, he's forced to face the uncomfortable facts of his past - and louis, who's spent the last five years returning every set of divorce papers harry sent him.

(or, an au based on the movie sweet home alabama.)

2️⃣ Mine Would Be You by @crinkle-eyed-boo [E, 114k]

Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.

3️⃣ all the lights are full of colour by @infinitelymint [E, 26k]

So, fast-forwarding eight years from the day Harry met Louis, he is now a twenty-seven year old owner of one of the most up-and-coming eating establishments on the London restaurant scene, father of two wonderful boys and… separated from his husband. Now, that last part definitely was never a part of the original plan.

Or, Harry and Louis are separated, but for the sake of their two sons, they choose to spend Christmas together. It may just lead to a Christmas miracle.

4️⃣ The Shirt You Hate by @isthatyoularry [M, 15k]

“Soph,” Louis says to his female executive assistant. “I’m making more money than ever, and I have just realised that I have no one to spend it on.”

At thirty years old, Louis is past halfway to becoming a billionaire, and he needs to find the one. He literally stumbles upon his university sweetheart.

5️⃣ You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) by lucythegoosey / @harryrainbows [E, 95k]

Harry was in the biggest boy band in the world. He was also one half of the best (or worst, depends on who you ask) kept secret relationship in the music industry.

Now, almost five years on, after One Direction has broken up, and Harry and Louis' relationship has as well, a video threatens to put everything at risk.

One determined Irishman, a massive publicity stunt and two begrudging exes are all it takes to bring One Direction back to life and maybe, just maybe, Harry and Louis' mangled love life too.

Or: Harry and Louis are forced to fake-date after an old video from when they were dating emerges.

HIDDEN GEMS:

💎 Wait For It by dimpled_halo / @comebackassholes [E, 119k]

“You’re doing it again.” Zayn’s voice breaks him away from his thoughts.

Louis furrows his brows. “What?”

Zayn waves his hand around. “You’ve got that dreamy look on your face. You’re thinking about the future love of your life, again aren’t you?”

Zayn is staring at him in a way like he’s daring Louis to lie so he could call him out on it. Liam and Zayn can read him like a book, making it hard for Louis to keep anything from them. Instead of trying to lie, he resigns himself and lets out a breath.

“I am.”

A How I Met Your Mother au with a better ending. Louis is ready to find the love of his life and when he meets Harry he thinks he's finally found them. Liam and Zayn have been together since college and are ready to take the next step in their relationship, except Zayn might be having doubts. And Niall is happy with no strings attached dating until a new employee at the bar they frequent walks into his life and makes him question his entire existence.

💎 pull me back together again (the way you cut me in half) by 28sunflowers / @vintageumbroshirt [E, 26k]

When trying to figure out who the love of his life is, Harry’s brain brings back a specific name from his past.

That’s why, a decade after a messy divorce, Louis opens his door to find his ex-husband standing on the other side, asking for a second chance.

Or a This Is Us AU starring Harry as Kevin and Louis as Sophie, but I selectively choose to use only some parts of what's cannon on the show.

💎 Love Gone Wrong by wordsnnotes / @quelsentiment [T, 18k]

Years ago, Harry and Niall left their rural town for the big city, while their respective boyfriends Louis and Zayn stayed behind at the ranch. Louis and Harry start an on-and-off relationship, but Zayn and Niall break off all ties. When Louis gets into a fight with Harry, he enlists Zayn's help to make things right with him, thereby putting Zayn in Niall's path again, and giving all of them a chance to work things out and start anew.

💎 don't you call him baby by @femstyles [T, 8k]

But now, eleven months later, as his Uber pulls up outside the bar, Harry thinks he can absolutely handle this. He's going to walk into Liam's birthday party where the ex-love of his life is also going to be and he's going to show Louis that he can be a mature adult about everything that’s happened in the last year.

Or the one where Harry is absolutely doing fine and is definitely not still hung up on Louis. Except he is.

💎 'Tis the Damn Season by zanni_scaramouche / @zanniscaramouche [M, 2k]

The door will open and he’ll smile wide and genuine at the people who raised him, his teary-eyed mother and rosey-face step-father. He won’t think about the cabin in the woods again until next December.

#hltracks #hlcreators #hljournal #hlsource #trackinghome #1dficvillage #tracksintheam #zanniscaramouche #femstyles #wordsnnotes #28sunflowers #dimpledhalo #lucythegoosey #isthatyoularry #infinitelymint #crinkleeyedboo #hattalove

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darklydeliciousdesires · 10 months

Text

Lost & Found - Chapter Three.

Surprise! I thought I’d treat you all to an off the cuff update as a little thank you for your readership. You’ve all made me feel confident again in the wake of having that confidence take a knock, so yeah, here you go. It’ll move the story along a little more, too. There’ll still be an update on Friday as well, but for now, enjoy :)

Previous chapters - One Two

Words - 3,516

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse in the coming chapters.

They pulled into a gas station a little further along in their journey, Bottles exiting to fill up with gas and Guero shifting to climb out over the driver’s side, telling her he wouldn’t be long. Her eyes fixed upon him, her heart beginning to jackrabbit in her chest. He’d made her feel safe as she’d curled into him, and now he was moving away from her. Her demeanour took on that of a meerkat, positioned sharply upright, scanning the small building he’d walked into, her nerves demanding she keep him in her eye line.

Swallowing nervously, she blinked rapidly, her throat tightening when he moved out of her view, her body going rigid once more when Bottles opened up the door. His eyes scanned her, his face kind in what she could see from her peripheral vision, still focusing on Guero’s movements. Seeing him emerge again, she began to settle.

“I had no idea what you liked, so I got a little of everything.” Gesturing to the brown paper bag he held, he dipped the edge with his finger, revealing it to be full of snack foods. He pulled three packaged sandwiches from the top, throwing one at bottles, holding up the other two. “Chicken or ham?”

She pointed to the ham one. “That’s some cosmic shit right there,” he smiled, gesturing to the chicken. “I wanted this one.” He placed the bag down at his feet, pulling his seatbelt back on as Emma opened the package, pulling out the sub style sandwich and taking a bite.

It might have been on slightly tough bread, the salad a little wilted, but for her it was as good as a gourmet meal after three weeks of protein bars. The mustard and smoky flavour of the ham mingled upon her tongue, her tastebuds tingling, closing her eyes with a look of bliss. Food. God, she’d missed it.

They ate in silence for the duration of the journey, all sharing from the large bag of cheese Ruffles also purchased, Emma thinking that chips had truly never tasted so good as she crunched through each mouthful, washing them down with the provided small bottle of cherry Coke. He wasn’t to know it was her favourite drink in the entire world either, yet it was the one he had chosen in from the array of sodas on offer.

The cool, sugary carbon refreshed her mouth, which was fuzzy and grimy in feel after three weeks of no dental hygiene. No hygiene at all to speak of, in fact. She knew she stank, yet Guero quite happily let her settle against him again without fuss. She felt a little bad for that, especially when he smelled so good, leather, soap and a faint trace of cologne.

While leaning against him, she watched as the freeway began to become sparser of surroundings, the dessert landscape taking over as Bottles turned off, a large sign upon the highway they exited onto coming into view. Santo Padre. It was reassuring, seeing the sign matched where Bishop had stated they would be taking her.

The town was small, not as suburban as what she was used to, although back in her old life she’d scarcely had the freedom that meant she could move around Staten Island, the place that had become her home. Less home, more prison, she often surmised.

The van moved through the quiet streets, weaving around until it finally came to a large gate, the signage denoting the location to be Romero Brothers Scrap. A smaller sign beneath it read Losa Motorcycle repair, yet another statement to ring true, Emma remembering that Guero had told her it was the location Bishop’s wife ran her shop from. The convoy came to a halt, someone jogging to open the gate, EZ riding through, the van following.

Her eyes took everything in as they drove through the wide passage between old piles of iron and steel, piles upon piles of metal twisted and stacked, crushed cars jutting into the horizon before a second gate came into view. This one was opened from the inside, a woman dressed casually in sweats and a vest standing back as she swung it open, her slender arms decorated plentifully with colourful tattoos.

They pulled up a little way from a wooden building, the lights casting a soft, yellow glow out into the darkness of the early morning, Bottles jumping out, going over to a few of the guys who had parked up their bikes, Emma taking in her surroundings with widened eyes. Caution began to wind through her again, Guero feeling her starting to stiffen, watching her bring her thumb to her mouth and chew.

“That’s the clubhouse,” he pointed, his finger then moving to the woman who had opened the gate, positioned on the step. “And that’s Lee. You ready to get out?”

She felt fragile and foolish to suddenly experience another attack of nerves, especially when everything she’d been promised had rung true, her eyes finding the slender blonde woman, watching her wave lackadaisically. Her trembles started up once more, Guero softly sighing through his nose, climbing out over the driver’s seat and walking around the front of the van to the passenger side, opening the door.

He held out his hands, the warmth of his smile creasing his eyes. “Come on, blue eyes. It’s okay.” She froze for a few moments, taking deep breaths before turning, taking his hands. The appearance of a large, bald man walking behind where Guero was stood made her eyes round, her safety person turning.

“That’s Gilly.” The big man smiled as he continued, figuring he’d probably do more harm than good if he lingered, the girl still looking perturbed. Once he’d gone, she didn’t immediately calm, her eyes darting all around, the sounds of people talking and laughing a little overloading to her senses, eventually reaching for Guero. Safety person. All was well if he was near.

She reached past his hands, gripping onto his shoulders as she slid from the van, Guero clasping her waist as he lifted her, surprised when she wrapped her legs around him. He could handle carrying her, she weighed virtually nothing at all, her frame slight although she was quite tall, shutting the van and carrying her over to where Lee was waiting.

“Morning,” she grumbled, yawning. “So, this is Emma, right?”

“Yeah. She’s a little freaked out still,” Guero commented, Lee nodding.

“’Sup, Emma? You okay, you alright?” Three questions. It was another little touchback to something she’d been told ringing true. “I’m set up in templo, figured it’d be best. The old man said she was kinda scared.” Lee continued with, opening the clubhouse door, Emma clinging on tighter as she was carried into the new space. It was shabby but cozy, wooden furniture that didn’t match clustered around tables, a few couches and a small bar area.

It smelled strongly of cigarettes and alcohol, Emma lowering her face to Guero’s collar, his scent filling her nose, finding familiar comfort again quickly. She was carried down a narrow passage, Lee sliding open a stained-glass door, leading to a narrow room with a large table in the centre, Guero closing the door behind him, seating her atop that table and standing back. Immediately, she scrambled to reach for him.

“I’m not leaving you, it’s alright. Hey, calm down,” he soothed her with, jumping up onto the table beside her, his wallet chain clattering against the wood. “I’ll stay right here if you like.” She nodded, trembling softly, turning to view Lee arranging a few items she’d laid out, looking up with a small smile.

“You ready for me to take a look at you?” She nodded, her hand reaching to clasp Guero’s, still a little scared. “Alrighty. I’m gonna touch your head, make sure you don’t have any other bumps anywhere, then shine a light in your eyes. Need to check for concussion.”

Back when she’d been in active service and dealt with injured troops, especially those who had been traumatised by the horrors of war and slid into a state of shock, Lee had found that talking them through an examination process had made it much easier for them, applying those techniques to the young woman sitting before her.

Although kind, Lee knew she could lack a little warmth in her demeanour at times, her military background moulding her into a strong, formidable woman. She was practical and pragmatic before she was anything else, but understood when sensitivity was needed.

Slowly, she reached for Emma’s head, checking for bumps before picking up a small torch. “Gotta shine this in your eyes, check how your pupils react.” The light beamed in, Lee studying her carefully. “Follow my finger.” Emma did as instructed, beginning to calm down a little. Things were adding up, she was being examined, just as she was told would happen. It was okay. She was safe.

Lee nodded, pulling on a pair of latex gloves. “No concussion, but this cut is fuckin’ savage as fuck. Gonna clean it up and then spray it with ethyl chloride, so it’ll numb the skin, alrighty?” She was met by a small nod, Lee picking up a bottle of antiseptic and decanting it onto some cotton pads. “It’s gonna fuckin’ sting, deep breath.”

The antiseptic seeped into her wound, making her hiss softly, her clutch on Guero’s hand tightening. He clasped it between his, the warmth of his skin soothing, taking her mind off the sharp burning upon her forehead. Once the wound was clean, Lee picked up a clear bottle, beginning to carefully spray it around the broken skin as she gently blew, shielding Emma’s eye with her hand. A cooling sensation chilled her forehead until she felt nothing at all, Lee then prepping a needle.

“My stiches are nothing short of perfect, but it’s gonna leave a small scar, sadly,” Lee spoke as she began to stitch, her brow creasing with concentration. “Dunno if you’ve heard of it, but there’s something called Bio-Oil you can put on it that’ll help lessen the scar once it’s healed. These stitches aren’t dissolvable either, so you’ll need to find someplace to have them taken out in two weeks once you’ve healed. They’ll itch, but try not to touch the wound, just keep it clean to prevent infection.”

“Okay.” Emma replied, her eyes moving to her side, watching Guero.

“You doing alright?”

Her lips thinned into a shy smile. “Mmhm. Thanks f-for looking after m-me.”

His fingers squeezed softly on hers. “You’re welcome.”

Lee finished her stitching in impressive timing, removing her gloves and beginning to pack away her medical kit again. “All done. Do you have someplace you can go, family, friends out here? You look dehydrated and I’d guess a little malnourished, too. You need to go someplace safe and recover from your journey. Is there anybody we can call for you, you got a number, a name?”

She shook her head.

“Okay, well you’re welcome at Casa Losa. We have a spare room if you need it?”

Immediately, she curled into Guero, Lee reading the situation. She’d obviously somewhat imprinted upon him, not willing to think of an alternative to staying by his side. Trauma. Whatever the hell had gone on in that shipping crate that led to her injuries, or perhaps more accurately, the life she’d been so desperate to flee from as a stowaway within it, Lee knew lingering trauma when she saw it. “Alrighty, sugar. You wanna stay with him, I get it.”

Her eyes searched his, Guero nodding. “Yeah, come crash at my place. It’s cool.” Instantly, she relaxed again.

With a nod and a small smile, Lee left the room, seeking out her husband at the bar, her arms sliding around his waist as she kissed his cheek.

“How’s the girl?” EZ asked, sliding from his seat to arrive at her side.

“Stitched, but she’s really fuckin’ bent out of shape mentally. Starting to calm down, but she’s panicked. Bishop told me you were bringing her back because you wanted answers over who stole your cash. Well, you ain’t fuckin’ getting them tonight, Ezekiel.”

The president gave her a slightly incredulous look. “That’s not down to you to decide, Lee.”

She straightened, lifting her chin. “While I’m the person who gets called upon at all hours to pull bullets out of y’all, stitch you up, fix your fuckin’ bike dings and generally be a mother hen to this MC, then you better fuckin’ believe I’m deciding it. Not happening, ain’t gonna be tonight, no fuckin’ way.” Pausing she jerked her thumb back in the direction of templo, her eyes fixed upon his.

“That poor girl has been through enough; she doesn’t need you interrogating her when she can’t even string more than about five fuckin’ stammered words together right now. The docks have CCTV, so if you so desperately wanna find out who stung you guys, I’d get on the phone to the guards who Don fuckin’ Lombardi is greasing the palms of to send you the footage. She’ll talk when she’s fuckin’ ready.”

Her eyes lingered upon him as she leaned to her husband, kissing his cheek again. “You better hurry up home and fuck me until I fall asleep.” She marched from the clubhouse, Bishop grunting a small laugh, turning to EZ.

“Come on, mano,” he sighed, shaking his head. “You know if there’s one person you can’t give orders to, it’s my wife. She has a point, too. Call the guard now, before the footage gets erased.” Every single base was covered in the operation, including any footage of the MC delivering to the container. They had to act fast, having no idea how close to their arrival the robbery took place, Bishop not wanting to chance the footage of the perpetrators ending up being deleted as well.

EZ nodded, taking his phone out and leaving the clubhouse in order to do just that, tired from the events of the night and still quietly burning with fury over the theft. Meanwhile, back in templo, Emma sat quietly, having heard Lee’s words to EZ, feeling relieved that the pressure was off her and she wasn’t about to be interrogated.

“Can you...c-can you do me a, a favour?” she stammered tentatively, Guero sliding off the table to stand in front of her. He nodded, Emma continuing. “D-don’t tell anybody that you found me in, in that container, especially n-not the man who you were offloading heroin for. Rocco Lombardi can n-never know where I am.”

Her stuttered speech was a clear indicator of who she was truly the most frightened of, the mob boss himself, Guero wondering what a young woman, probably around his age, had done to warrant the need to vanish from the jaws of the mafia.

“Don’t worry nobody is gonna say shit. I doubt EZ is gonna wanna bring light to any of this.” He knew his president well, and he knew that the man they were running heroin for was an executor of seamless operations the likes of which EZ had promised. Although finding a stowaway in a container and their payment gone wasn’t anything that would affect Lombari personally, snags in the plan always raised doubt, and they needed this alliance way too much to risk it.

Guero paused, stuck in indecision for a moment whether to ask her what was on his mind, the question slipping out before he’d truly had chance to weigh up whether he should. “I gotta ask, though, is it him you were running from, or the mafia in general, why we found you in that container?”

She tensed visibly, her gaze dropping to the floor, a quiver ripping through her. No. He definitely shouldn’t have. “I’m sorry. Tell me when you’re ready, or not at all. Isn’t really any of my business.”

No expectations to reveal her inner trauma, no pushing, only kindness. Kindness, and the offer a place to stay. A safe place with her safe person. Her insides heaved a sigh of relief. “Can we leave now?”

He nodded, taking her hands in his. “Yeah. Let me go get the van keys from Bottles, grab your backpack and snack bag.” He’d intended for her to wait in templo for him, but predictably as soon as he’d taken a step back, she followed. Pressing herself close at his side, she hugged onto his thick arm as they walked through the clubhouse, finding Bottles behind the bar, Guero making a motion with his hand that indicated a turning key. With those very items tossed into his neat catch, they departed.

“Heading home, prez,” Guero spoke on his way out, pausing at seeing the thunderous expression on EZ’s face.

“Yeah, alright.” His jaw was tight, each word practically bitten into as they left his mouth. Guero knew that mood, knowing it was best to leave him to simmer down, Emma falling into step at his side before suddenly slowing, turning back look upon to the agitated president. He might’ve terrified her, but he hadn’t lied to her. That deserved some kind of reward.

Releasing her hold on Guero’s arm, she walked back up the steps, tucking her hair behind her ear meekly, EZ’s glance fixing upon her. Her heart jumped, swallowing the little fearful lump in her throat. “I heard w-what Lee suggested, about the CCTV. You won’t f-find any, because it was an inside job. The guys who robbed your c-cash were two of the dock security guards.”

Her nervously stammered words matched the cause of his ire, being told exactly that on the phone not five minutes before. Something stuck out for him, though. “Why'd they just knock you out and leave you there, though? You'd witnessed it, could easily tell us their identity. It doesn’t add up that they wouldn’t haul you out of there, or kill you.”

Emma shrugged, swallowing a few times. “I c-could hear motorcycle engines in the distance just before t-they hit me. They didn’t have any time. I guess they h-had to hope I wouldn’t come around before you left again. I g-guess a gun going off in a c-container is pretty loud, too.”

That tied up the loose end adequately enough. “Thank you.” Standing, he walked to the clubhouse door, swinging it open. “Bish, we gotta head out again. Gilly, Hank, you too.” He was about to stride over to his bike when Emma’s small voice halted him.

“Um, I know you’ll h-have to let him know about this, but please d-don’t tell Rocco Lombardi you f-found me in that container. Please don’t.”

He saw the pleading in her eyes clearly, considering her statement with a sniff. Truly, Lombardi didn’t need to know what they’d found, only the circumstances that had surrounded what was missing. “Alright, I promise I won’t.”

She nodded, looking at her feet before her eyes found his again. “Thank you.”

He headed down the steps with a nod, pausing for a second before he turned back. “Why, though? What did Lombardi do to you?”

She bit her lip, looking at Guero for a moment, folding her arms as her shoulders trembled and drew in. “Everything.”

EZ lifted his chin slightly, studying her uneasiness. It really didn’t have anything to do with him, and he might’ve been jumping to conclusions, but the words ‘I don’t trust him’ delivered by his VP not five months ago up in Vegas sounded through his head, turning and continuing across to his bike once more.

Walking back to Guero’s side, she clutched his arm, smiling when he shrugged her hold off to hug her gently. “That was brave, blue eyes.”

She nodded against him, letting out a sigh. “Didn’t want to make him mad.”

He didn’t really know how to reply to that, so remained silent, patting her back before walking over to the van to retrieve her stuff. After quickly running the keys back, they moved to his large, yellow and black bike, Emma being handed the spare helmet.

“You ever ridden on the back of a motorcycle before?” She shook her head. “Alright, well there’s not much to it. Just hold on tight. I won’t go so fast, though.”

Securing her backpack, she took the helmet and jammed it on, the fit a little tight due to the many tangles thickening her hair, swinging her leg over and seating herself behind him comfortably. The engine roared into life, eighteen hundred horses primed to charge as he kicked off, riding through the gate behind the others, who he guessed were San Diego bound once more.

In the space of four hours, Emma had gone from stowaway fleeing from her life, to under the care of an outlaw she barely knew. It wasn’t exactly what she’d envisaged, but then again, not having a long-term plan after fleeing the east coast, there was nothing she could match it to, expectations wise. As she clung to her safe person, she was thankful that a long last, she felt just that. Safe.

#guero mayans mc #guero mayans mc fanfiction #guero fanfiction #guero fanfic #guero smut #guero x ofc #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc smut #mayans mc season 5 #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fic

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discodeviant · 1 year

Text

Commissioned by @ihni for Harringrove For Turkey! <3 Mature | 1.1k | Mild A/B/O

If you'd like a fic or artwork from me, check out my HFT post for details!

Read on AO3

“Also, the coolers have to be left on! Don’t turn them all off, there’s a sticker—“

“I got it, Buckley. Now run along before you see something you shouldn’t.”

“Oh, ew.”

“Jesus, Billy…”

Steve had it so easy, being a beta, before Billy waltzed into his life. They’d officially been together for a few weeks by the time Billy was shoving Robin out of Scoops Ahoy with the keys in his hand. Steve crossed his arms behind the counter, leaning against the back wall with a look on his face not unlike Robin when she thought too hard about Heather Holloway. The trouble was that Steve hadn’t stopped thinking about Billy since their first kiss behind his pool shed, and now was no different.

With Robin out of their hair, the mall nearly empty because it was twenty minutes to closing time, Billy pocketed the keys and turned around to drag Steve into the back and hold him close with the window shut.

“You’re lucky—I pre-closed my—station an hour ago—“ Steve said in the short moments between Billy’s lips pressing hastily against his own.

“I know, I just wish I’d been here to bug you sooner.” They both laughed, tripping over each other’s feet before Steve’s back was against the counter, and Billy was hoisting him to sit on top.

“Robin would’ve made you run the register.”

“That’s why I wasn’t.”

More smiles and kisses with Billy’s hands under his shirt made Steve shiver, gave him goosebumps all over, and had his heart beating out of his chest. “How was the pool?” he asked, still nose-to-nose, tugging his fingers through Billy’s chlorine-roughened curls as much as they would let him.

Billy rolled his eyes and groaned. “Don’t get me started. Heather was fighting her rut all day. Made four kids cry in less than an hour.”

“Christ.”

Billy’s head fell onto Steve’s shoulder, a deep breath tiring his body to a slump. “Thank fuck I don’t gotta deal with that shit.” He laughed and settled into the hand rubbing along his back, Steve’s skin against his arms, the soft breath on his neck.

“Don’t think you could handle it?”

“Don’t think you could.”

Steve lightly kicked his thigh and said, “Shut up, I totally could.”

“Have you seen Robin when Heather comes in here?” Billy asked, raising his head back up to see Steve’s face when he barked out a laugh.

“Ah, shit. Yeah. That girl is a mess.”

“Be glad you don’t cream yourself every time I walk in.”

At that, Steve hooked his ankle around the back of Billy’s knee and pulled him even closer, snapping him between his knees like a vice. “Who says I don’t?”

Billy scoffed and moved a hand to squeeze Steve’s thigh. “I think I’d know in these shorts, pretty boy.”

“What, like you don’t either?”

“No, because I have this thing called composure, Steve.”

“Mhm… I’d hate to have to see you squirm like that when I couldn’t do anything about it. Might just rut on the spot.”

“Oh, my poor, poor alpha…” Billy ran his fingers along the collar of Steve’s shirt, then tugged the cravat’s knot down until it was fully untied.

“I should bend you over the counter right now.”

“Come on… you’d at least take me to the booth, wouldn’t you?” he asked, making puppy-dog eyes up at Steve.

“Maybe.”

And he leaned in closer, hands back under Steve’s shirt and scratching blunt nails all along his back. Hot breath against his ear, Billy said, “I’d fuck you in the booth.” Steve shuddered.

“I’d like that.” Took a deep breath, wrapped his arms around Billy’s shoulders, and pulled him flush against his torso and rolling hips.

“Your heart’s racing like a jackrabbit,” Billy said.

“Yeah, whose fault is that?”

“Better be mine.”

“Mm… it is,” Steve said, nose pushing through Billy’s hair as a kiss was placed on the side of his neck.

“Good.”

He felt Billy’s smile on his skin with every peck, every open-lipped drag from one spot to another. Eyes closed, one breath became a long, slow sigh, sinking into the hint of whatever mark would be left behind. Bonding bites weren’t something betas were capable of, but damn if they didn’t bite anyway. With a couple sharp canines and a dream, Steve had a red spot that would be purple by the next morning.

Billy said, “All mine.”

Then Steve groaned and stretched his back before taking the side of Billy’s face in his hand. “All yours,” he said, a short kiss to the satisfied grin before him. “C’mere…” And his lips were on Billy’s neck to return the favor, but he took his time. Billy’s mouth would have been jealous with the way Steve made out with the underside of his jaw, the spot that Steve knew would make his knees weak.

“Christ—“

“You’re perfect, you know that?”

Billy’s laugh came out like a broken sigh. “Shut up, I am not.”

“Yeah you are.” That was when his teeth sunk into tender flesh, arms tighter around his waist as Billy received his own bite mark. “I can’t wait to get you home.”

“I’m all yours, Stevie-boy,” Billy said, hoarse from the lust and increasing affection that he didn’t know what to do with.

“All mine.”

One last kiss before Steve sat up and turned Billy to look at him again, eyes cloudy in the haze of another one of their “bonding” moments. Neither cared that it wasn’t the same as if they were alphas or omegas; they felt so much stronger, always determined to keep each other marked as off-limits anyway. Billy’s heart hammered away with Steve’s, both leaning back in for a deeper kiss, until—

“I love you, Billy.”

And maybe he was too stunned to say anything for a moment, too lost in Steve’s gaze and palm on his cheek. Maybe it didn’t surprise him, because Steve had been giving him little tokens of his affection long before they admitted they were more than fuck-buddies, and Billy had kissed Steve with every ounce of himself since the first. Hearing it, though, in the sweet voice that made everything okay, from lips he’d tasted himself on any chance he got—now he knew for sure.

“I love you too, Steve.”

So they kissed one more time, long and slow and anticipating the night to come. “Come on, let’s close up. I just need help carrying stuff.”

“Aye aye, captain.”

#.discowrites #HarringroveForTurkey #Harringrove For Turkey #steve harrington #billy hargrove #stranger things #a/b/o #omegaverse #steve/billy #steve x billy #billy x steve #harringrove

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livingforcoopsandoknutzy · 2 years

Note

pulling your partner into your lap

for cubs (or any pairing within the cubs) maybe like early days of being together! someone does it and the other is just like okay damn this is new i love it

i'm using this to write harvard finnlo (i'm going to stop spamming hazel now but last time today credit to @lumosinlove for the characters <3)

CW: drinking, drunk logan, homophobia (use of the f slur), cursing

HARVARD: Finn & Logan

Finn laughed as he set his beer on the table next to him. College parties weren't his favorite pastime but Logan had been in his head for almost a week so Finn figured he could tough it out if it helped get Logan out of his head.

Finn was in the middle of a conversation with his friend, Abeni, when Logan came stumbling in. Logan's eyes were hazy but when they landed on Finn he shrieked happily. "Finny! I was looking for you." He slurred as he made (tripped) his way over. Abeni went quiet as she watched the scene unfold with a quiet smile.

Finn laughed fondly as Logan collapsed half in Finn's lap on the couch. Finn pulled Logan the rest of the way into his lap and basked in the way Logan went limp against him.

Logan was almost never physically affectionate. He had been at the beginning of their friendship but slowly he stopped touching people at all. It was something Finn had never understood but if Logan was willingly affectionate he wouldn't pass up the opportunity to enjoy it.

Finn rubbed Logan's side gently while Logan relaxed further into him as he talked. "Abeni, you look really pretty tonight." Logan said sappily. Abeni raised a dark eyebrow before turning her equally dark eyes to look at Finn.

"Finn, control your boy." Abeni said it jokingly but Finn felt Logan tense in his arms and silently cursed. "We can't have him flirting with everyone tonight." Logan was sobering up quickly and Finn wrapped an arm around his waist to try to get him to relax again.

Their friend Max, who was listening to the conversation laughed. "Nah, let him. With the way he's clinging to Finn the girls will think he's gay. You don't want anyone to think you're a fag now do you, Lo-Lo?"

Finn glared at Max. Logan practically lept off his lap, Finn's arms falling to his side. "Fuck off, Max. I'm not gay." He said before turning around and leaving the room.

If looks could kill, Max would be dead five times over with the combination of looks Abeni and Finn were sending him.

"There's nothing wrong with being gay Max, you're just an asshole." She stood up and turned to Finn before gesturing to the kitchen. Finn nodded and sent one more glare towards Max before he followed Abeni to the kitchen.

JUST GOT TOGETHER: Finn & Leo

Finn was reading Romeo and Juliet in his room when he heard the front door open and close. Leo had been shopping, having picked the short straw for the month, for hours and Finn had missed him.

It hadn't been long but they had barely separated since they decided to give the three of them a try. Logan had left that morning for Dumo's to do some family bonding activity Dumo had threatened to kill Logan if he missed.

When Finn got to a stopping point he saved his page and walked downstairs. Leo was sitting on the couch on his phone but looked up when he heard Finn approaching. He smiled blindingly and for a second Finn forgot how to breathe.

God, how is this my life?

"Hey, come look at this TikTok account I found. They take clips of the team during games and try to lip-read what we're saying. It's really funny though because everything they say is totally ridiculous." Finn smiled and walked over to him so he could see what Leo was talking about.

Before Finn got the chance to lean down, Leo pulled him into his lap. Finn's legs resting across Leo's and his side pressed against Leo's chest. Leo rested his arm on Finn's legs and started the video.

Finn was 100% not paying attention, too busy focusing on the feeling of being so casually close to Leo. Finn wondered for a minute if Leo could feel his heart jackrabbiting in his chest.

Leo laughed and Finn felt his chest rumble with it. Finn relaxed against him and smiled adoringly. He had to admit, the videos were pretty funny.

When Logan got back about two hours later he was met with honestly probably the most precious sight he'd seen. Leo's arms were wrapped loosely around Finn's torso and his head was rested on Finn's head where it laid on his chest. Finn's legs were thrown over Leo's and they were both sleeping peacefully.

Warmth filled his chest as he took in the scene. Eventually he woke them up and moved them to the bed for an afternoon nap.

No one needed to know that his new home screen was a picture of what was soon to become his new favorite sight.

SEASONED COUPLE: Logan & Leo

Leo was sitting on their couch watching reruns of Gilmore Girls when Logan walked in after a grueling day of babysitting the Dumais' children.

Logan walked over to the couch and collapsed next to Leo. "I'm so tired." He complained when Leo did nothing but pat his back in acknowledgment.

Leo looked at him with a smirk. "You're the one who decided to spend their off day babysitting. I feel like that one's on you." Logan pouted, sticking his tongue out.

"I didn't say it wasn't I just said I was tired." Logan mumbled, the pout never leaving his lips. Leo smiled softly and leaned down to kiss him. "I'm sorry, babe. At least now you get to rest." Logan shrugged, he had never been good at taking naps.

Leo grabbed him gently by the thighs and pulled his into his lap. Logan's legs were straddling him as they sat chest to chest.

"Comfortable?" Leo asked. Logan nodded with a content sigh as he buried his face into the warmth of Leo's neck. Leaving soft kisses everywhere he could reach.

Leo's long arms wrapped around him and Logan felt an overwhelming sense of protection. A safe feeling he only really felt with Finn and Leo.

He was really lucky to have them and he told Leo so. Leo kissed his temple, leaning down to whisper in his ear. "I'm lucky to have you, too."

It only took about ten minutes of rubbing Logan's back before Leo felt Logan relax completely against him, fast asleep. Leo pressed a kiss to the mess of curls that sat on his boyfriend's head.

"Love you." He whispered before turning his attention back to Lorelai, Rory, and Luke.

#o'knutzy #leo knut #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #lumosinlove #sweater weather

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ajkiranwrites · 1 year

Text

Dreamlike Laughter

Reality kisses his sleepless nights, until he dreams of her again.

“Really wish you weren’t here anymore, love,” Milas tells Zimi, sitting by the window of his apartment. When he squints outside, the moonlight gleams too sharply off of the blades of grass.

He needs to tell her tonight. Right here in the dreamscape she made for them to meet across the mountains and rivers between.

She barks out a short laugh, but her shoulders hunch. She begins, “I don’t know who I can trust enough to practice this type of spell. I truly didn’t know I was bothering, hones—”

‘I miss sneaking mom’s pastries to you and spending all night awake because you got a new board game and you’re a horrible, horrible cheater and.’ Words. Words tangle in his mouth, so he blurts out, ‘And, I miss all the ands.’

Quick as a wildfire, she grasps his face with both her hands. He never feels them, but he can see her dark eyes looking into his sandy ones. In these moments, he thinks her a phantom. That the sentinels who swore their loyalty to her killed her before she could cross the city’s borders. With their history, the years stretching like scars on knobby knees and dolls, he could create something real enough to fool him.

Something creaks, like twigs snapping under a wheel. It takes Milas back to the evening before, his hand digging into Elijah’s wheelchair, light stubble not smooth skin, and soft hair brown not black under his hands. When he pulls away abruptly, she puts her hands up in surrender.

The view outside the window fades into fog, but so do the corners of his room. He needs to tell her.

‘I’m sorry, Kazimiera’ he chokes out. ‘I don’t deserve you.’ He slips onto his knees. Promises broken in a heartbeat, heartbeats jackrabbitting with Elijah’s laugh and the way he calls him endearments in something called French, and Milas was such a fool for the litany of mon chou, trésor, amour.

After a pause she says, ‘You kissed someone? ’

He shakes his head vehemently, ‘I didn’t, but I wanted to. I almost did.’

The world stills, or maybe it’s too loud in his head: exile, treason, Elijah. The fog obscures his vision until he can’t see anything past the table.

She grins up at him as if he’s the stupidest person on the planet, and asks, ‘And selfishly hoard your heart all to myself? I couldn’t fit it in the biggest rooms of the palace.’

All air rushes out of his lungs in a sharp exhale, dizzy with relief until he is gasping in short breaths—her forgiveness cooling the splinters under his skin.

When she leans forward to speak in his ear to tell her about him, he is back at the couch with a flickering lamp’s terrible wiring.

He is still talking about him when the fogs submerges him fully.

When he opens his eyes, Elijah’s laughter down the hallway is made of dreams.

#writeblr #writeblogging #story writing #flash fiction #prose #writing #creative writing #100 days of writing #writerblr #short story

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blythebitez · 3 years

Text

ROUNDZ//

NSFW🔞// Fem reader

FOUR ROUNDZ//

ROUND ONE//

[Now playing// Rio Da Yung x Louie Ray - “movie” ]

//Inumaki fucks with music on. Due to his inability to say much and having to hold back, his choice of music establishes the mood.

//He goes in STRONG for the first round. Pounding to the beat of the song. He’s like a Jackrabbit inside of your wet cunny. He has you faced down on the mattress and works his seven inches to the maximum. Fucking you into the mattress.

//Inumaki has you moaning louder than the song playing from his speakers. He takes pride in making you feel good as well, the louder you moan the faster he’ll go. His stamina is outstanding.

//The first round is the quickest but the pleasure is out of this world. The fast-paced pounding from Inumaki, the under arching tone of the song telling you all Inumaki thought. The strings of cum from both of you are quick to pulse out.

//But he’s not done yet

ROUND TWO//

[Now playing// Mild High Club - “Homage”]

(Particularly slowed)

//Time to regain stamina. Inumaki’s a switch and he’s quick to lay back and watch your pretty tongue slowly lap up at his length’s head.

//Small whines escape his mouth letting you work your mouth around his cock as it pleases. He pants like a dog in heat, his back jolting every now and then when your tongue scrapes across him.

//Soft and gentle caressing of your cheeks and face. He won’t grab, pull or tug at your hair but he’d rest his hands in them grasping at it to tell you you’re doing a good job.

//He loves kisses. He thinks they’re the most intimate things, even from the beginning he only chooses to French kiss you. So when you lean up taking a moment away from your job to shove the same tongue that was on his cock into his own lips. God, he might just cum on spot.

//He LOVES kisses, watching you kiss the tip of his cock makes him flare. Mark him up during this time, take advantage and suck on his neck and let your hands take over stroking at his greedy cock.

//Mutter “I love you” into his ear whenever you get time to breathe.

//He’ll cry out a string of moans when he cums wishing he could say the same to you without fear of what might happen.

ROUND THREE//

[Now playing// Moe shop - “Love taste”]

(Particularly slowed)

//Time for Inumaki to take care of you.

//He sits you down on his cock and holds you by the waist. During this time you feel so connected. His throbbing and aching member inside of you.

//He bites down softly and sucks on your neck. His hands that were holding your waist began to move downwards and played with your pink bud of nerves. He loves your moans and being so close to your mouth makes his cock twitch inside of you.

//His cock warming inside of you while he marks up your neck leaving a beautiful trail of dark hickeys down your throat. The difference in the color of your skin compared to your hickeys made him melt. And the bragging rights he’d have tomorrow when someone would ask you about them.

//But to be fair you did mark up his neck as well.

//If you whine and beg hard enough he’ll start moving. He’s sorry but your cute little whiny moans motivate him. He’ll make up for it by doing all the work. Lifting you up by his hands and pumping you on his cock.

//It’s a slow soft pounding. He goes in deep but not fast. He’s not thick enough for you to feel a budge but you sure as hell feel him knocking on your womb’s gates.

//He’ll lean forward into you and pant into your ear. His moans and groans almost drown out the music in the background but you can feel all of Inumaki’s love through each and every pump he shoves inside of you.

//He’ll lightly bite onto your earlobe as your eyes roll back and you release all over him. Making his slides and pumps out of your slippery cunt even wetter.

//He shoots another load into you and your legs are shaking from the ethereal feelings from tonight.

//But it’s not over.

FINAL ROUND//

[Now playing// Starboi x Doja cat - Dick]

//Fourth and final round! Pat yourself on the back, you survived this long!

//Get ready for hell.

//You just had three rounds of sex yet Inumaki’s pounding into you like a hungry wolf. Your mind’s going blank as his dick is somehow touching places you didn’t know you had.

//With all the juices inside you it only makes Inumaki go faster. You’re turned towards him laying back on the bed while he looks down over you seeing your facial expression change as his dick disrupts your whole body.

//He’ll pull your legs over his shoulder to get at a better angle and you’ll wrap your legs around his neck that’s purple from your kisses and bites. You look at his smirk with your mouth open and your tongue gliding out of it.

//You can’t even moan his name anymore. What comes out of your mouth can’t be considered words. Your walls clench around him so tightly and the speed at which he’s pounding into you.

//You reach up and claw your nails into his backside for some skin to grasp on. Moaning your heart out. The bed creaking like hell and the backboard slamming so hard against the wall a complaint would defiantly be filed against the both of you.

//you feel it coming. Inumaki can tell you’re close too by the way your walls grip him.

//He’s got a treat for you. :)

//He leans over to your ear and parts his pretty pink lips.

“Squirt for me.”

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creweemmaeec11 · 3 years

Text

Avoiding Love: Epilogue

Guys this is so soft. I may have beaten kind touch in softness without crossing into that cliche over the top cringey cute. How do I do this

Part one Part two

The villain was having a hard time believing just what was happening right now.

He was laid back on the couch of a motel room, lights off late at night, some crappy movie playing on the small low res tv in front of him that he was barely paying attention to.

It would have been a fairly normal thing if not for the hero contently snuggled into his chest, sound asleep on top of him.

If this was a dream, he did *not* want to wake up any time soon.

But it wasn't a dream, this was real life. Feelings bubbled up in his chest as he looked down, movie long forgotten about. The hero was sound asleep, relaxed and snuggled in just about as close as he could get to the villain, having made some comment about it being punishment for avoiding him for 4 days.

If that was the case the villain might just have to do it more often.

It had been hours, and he could still feel the slight tingle of where the hero's lips had kissed his cheek.

He caught himself smiling again.

Gods. This creature in his lap had him so wrapped around his finger it was stupid.

The villain couldn't bring himself to mind.

"You're staring again,"

The sudden voice snapped the villain back to reality only to see two eyes sleepily peering up at him.

How long had the hero been awake?

The villain's face immediately took on a red hue.

How long had he been staring?

"I wasn't! I- wait- again?" The villain sputtered.

The hero on top of him giggled, and the sound immediately made the villain feel warm and floaty inside. The hero's face when they laughed while half asleep had to be one of the cutest sights the villain had ever seen. He felt his heart rate pick up again when he remembered what said hero had said earlier.

This hero could play him like a violin without even trying. He had it so bad it was ridiculous. He would have even called it pathetic if not for the fact he wouldn't change it for the world. Not if it meant losing this.

"Yes, again," the hero replied, before yawning mid-sentence and snuggling in even closer, "you were doing it for most of the movie too,"

The villain blushed even more. He was fairly certain the hero would be able to feel how flustered he was even from where he was snuggled against his chest.

"Sorry..." the villain muttered, shifting slightly.

"I don't mind" the hero replied, "I'm just wondering what you're looking at,"

"Nothing. I'm just... staring off into space,"

"For a villain, you're a terrible liar," the hero replied, idly drawing circles on the villain's chest with his finger, which caused goosebumps to rise. The villain could hear the amusement in his voice.

The villain wasn't sure what to say.

"I think it's pretty cute," the hero continued, yawning yet again, "That your staring and don't even realize it,"

The villain shrugged, pathetically tongue-tied and unable to come up with an excuse.

The hero shifted, getting more comfortable before snuggling even closer, "you're so warm,"

The hero glanced up when he still didn't get a response, only to see the villain pointedly looking away from him. The hero giggled again, poking the villain's stomach gently, "Sunshine, you don't need to stop looking at me,"

The nickname alone made the villain's gaze snap back to the hero laying on top of him.

"I was just wondering why, I didn't mean for you to stop," he explained with a small smile.

"You'd laugh," the villain muttered, trying not to shift nervously and disturb the hero who was still practically half asleep.

"I would never," the hero replied more seriously, "If I ever did, it would be fondly, certainly not mockingly. I promise,"

The villain huffed. This was unfair. He couldn't say no to the two puppy dog eyes looking up at him now. He never could.

"I'm just trying to convince myself this is real," the villain admitted under his breath, "because it feels like a dream,"

He couldn't meet the hero's eyes while he spoke, but when he didn't immediately get a response, the villain dared a glance.

The hero was looking up at him with a big yet soft, genuine smile. He reached down, grabbing the villains hand with his own, pulling it in closer and subsequently pulling the villain's arm around him.

"This is real," The hero reassured, intertwining their fingers, "don't worry"

"I just... never thought I'd ever get to hear you say it,"

"Say what?" The hero asked in confusion.

The villain opened his mouth to reply, but stopped, blushing, like the words were caught in his throat. He bit his lip.

But the hero caught on quickly, a small smirk growing on his face.

"Ohhh,"

The villain glanced at him, before looking away again, cheeks darkening.

"I could always say it again you know, if you'd like," the hero offered, failing to hide the amusement in his voice.

The hero smiled as he felt the villain go statue still underneath him. He turned his face downwards, resting the side of his head against the villain's chest. Gently, he examined the villain's hand in his, tracing over the different scars lightly.

"I love you," the hero whispered quietly. Even he was too shy to say it while looking at the other.

In his ear, he could immediately hear the sound of the villain's heart rate pick up, suddenly thumping like a jackrabbit through the snow.

The hero immediately giggled in delight, which didn't help the pounding in his ear slow down any.

He went to say something, most likely a tease of some kind but was cut off by a large yawn, causing the villain above him to chuckle.

"You should go back to sleep darling, you can barely keep your eyes open,"

The villain felt slightly guilty, avoiding the hero for 4 days was probably part of the reason he was so tired.

"It's okay, I'm not- *yawn* - that sleepy..." the hero replied, despite clearly losing the battle to stay awake.

The villain just shook his head and scooped the hero up in his arms as he stood up.

"Wha-"

"Just moving you to bed,"

After laying the barely conscious hero down, he threw the blankets over him. Right as he went to pull away and head to his own bed, he felt something grab onto his hand.

The hero was looking up at him with a mixed expression of pleading, sad, and almost slightly betrayed.

The villain gave a defeated laugh.

Puppy eyes were so cheating.

"Move over,"

The hero's eyes lit up.

He barely got a chance to settle down under the covers before the hero was reattached to his chest snugly. The villain just idly began combing through the hero's hair.

They lay in content silence for a minute, before a barely audible mutter caught the villain's attention.

"I really don't mind you know,"

"Mind what?" The villain asked in confusion, staring at the ceiling above.

"The staring," the hero replied, voice barely discernible from where he was mumbling, barely conscious on the villain's chest, yet still somehow managing to snuggle even closer, "makes me feel safe,"

The villain looked down in shock, only to find the hero had finally waved the white flag and lost the battle of staying awake, now sound asleep.

The villain doubted the hero would even remember any of this conversation in the morning.

He was kind of banking on it because he would never live it down otherwise.

One way or another though, he was sure of two things.

One, he was in love.

And two, he was *definitely* sending supervillain a fruit basket after this.

Master Taglist! <- click to join

@llamaly @why-am-i-on-this-website-anyway @larinzz @sharraus @asrasmysoulmate @kaiwewi @akawrites000 @sunflower1000 @aroacewitchyacademic @aquarelle-sirene @lbelle0527 @trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room @freefallingup13 @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers @homosexual-having-tea @friiday-thirteenth @chocomarsgalaxy @ravenshadow17 @daydreamed-snippets @stankyt0es @jinx1365 @rainy-knights-of-villany @fromtheo-withlove @maybe-a-cat42 @the-sky-writes @watercolorfreckles

#hero x villain #villain x hero #snippet #heros and villains #hero x villain snippet #ficlet #snippet writing #fluff snippet #hero x villain fluff #my writing #Not a pr0mpt

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

Change of Heart ( Taehyungx OC)

Pairing : Taehyung x OC Werewolf AU!!

Genre : Romance, Explicit Content.

Warnings : None. ( Some mild violence but mostly off screen ) werewolf sex, ruts, knotting etc

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3/ Chapter 4

[ Summary :

Times are changing.

After years of being oppressed, werewolves are taking a stand against humans , demanding equal rights and fair treatment. Heading the movement is Kim Taehyung, the breathtaking heir to the Kim fortune and one of the few remaining Alpha werewolves in the country. His disdain for the human race is well known and well warranted. They killed his family after all…..

He wants to change the world , to put humans in their place but when his five year old daughter takes a shine to their very human neighbor , maybe he has to start with a change of heart , first. ]

Chapter 5

I found myself breathing through my nose, woozy and incoherent as the doctor fussed over me.

“This is looking pretty damn bad, Dr. Jeon...” He was muttering while Jungkook sat next to me gripping my hands. My throat went dry at the words, fear making my heart jackrabbit against my ribs.

“The bullet’s hit pretty close to artery near the clavicle, she’s lost a whole lot of blood. “

“Seo Joon’s going to prison for this... “ Jungkook swore, stroking my palm as I tried to stay conscious.

“Tell me I don’t have to stay in the hospital for a long time...” I begged, desperate.

Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“You got shot... It’s not a playground scrape, Mirae....” Jungkook sounded exhausted.

I nodded.

“ Whats going on with my father? Seo Joon was pissed off about something with my father....” I said, remembering the reason the wolf had been so pissed in the first place.

“We’ll talk about this later- You need to rest and-”

“Just tell me damn it!!”

Jungkook sighed.

“Your father got called out for trying to sabotage the vaccine drive going on on the island and he played the whole, ‘ why would I sabotage something my daughter helped make...’ card on TV. It’s had an effect....”

I swallowed.

“What do you mean by effect?”

Jungkook looked a little angry now.

“Can’t we talk about this tomorrow...you’re bleeding and hurt ...you need to fucking rest...”

“What’s going on...?” I demanded.

“The weres don’t want the vaccine anymore. They think...well they think you may have tampered with it....” He looked uncomfortable and I couldn’t comprehend what I’d just heard.

I stared at him, my jaw going slack in shock.

“I’m not.... I have nothing to do with the vaccine...that is so far above my paygrade..I’m a lab tech..... what even-” I was too outraged to even think clearly.

“People don’t know that, Rae. All they know is that they have always associated your father with bringing harm to the were community and somehow his daughter is here working on something that has the potential to both hurt and heal.....”

I bit my lips.

“He’s not even my real father.” I choked out.

Jungkook looked surprised at that.

“What?”

“It’s true. He adopted me because he raped my mom and she fucking killed herself over it. I was eight years old at the time and the bastard did not want any loose ends...” The words came out , bitter and edged with anger but it was an old hurt. An old rage that had long faded into a blunt sort of ache. I had been so young. Too young to fully comprehend

Jungkook looked completely stunned.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry....”

“He wanted me to marry one of his anti-were associates . That's literally all he raised me for. When I refused , he cut me off completely. I’ve literally been on my own for years now and my job is the only thing keeping me from dying on the streets....”

I hissed when the nurse touched my shoulder , the physical agony of my shoulder somehow intensifying as the nurse moved to finish dressing the wound. I would have to wear a sling next but I couldn’t even fathom moving, let alone sitting up for that ordeal.

The nurse gave me a slight smile.

“Your ribs are bruised again , this time its going to take longer to heal because one of them actually has a hair line fracture.”

Great. That explained the woozy breathlessness.

“It doesn’t hurt much...” I said confused.

“That’s because you’re on enough drugs to fell a horse...I’m actually surprised you’re still conscious.” Jungkook shook his head.

“It’s just the adrenaline...that and the fear of being fired.” I muttered.

Jungkook laughed a little at that.

“Don’t worry about anything. Just rest for a while and we’ll talk tomorrow , yeah?”

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

I woke up to fingers in my hair, soft and gentle.

My eyes fluttered open and I felt my breath catch when I saw who it was.

“Yuggie ??” I croaked out, my brother’s face coming into focus as I blinked back exhaustion.

“Welcome to the land of the living...” He said softly, keeping his fingers on my hair, stroking the strands back gently.

“What..... how did you get here so soon?” I whispered.

“You’ve been out for forty hours, baby....” He laughed a little and I blinked,

“I....I got hurt.” I whispered bleakly. My shoulder was still throbbing and the pain in my rib was now a bit more prominent. I took a deep shuddering breath.

“I’m glad you’re here.... “ I whispered, lifting shaky hands to hold his face.

“Dad called me. He wants you to come back home.”

I felt my entire body going cold, hands going clammy at once.

“That’s not going to happen.” I said sharply and Yugyeom looked worried.

“He’s really upset , Rae. Kim Taehyung winning the election was not a part of his plan and he’s desperate to try and cover his ass before he gets carted off to prison.”

I blinked at that.

“what do you mean by prison?”

“We can’t talk about this here. He’s not allowed on the island. None of his cohorts are. So he’s been trying to get you transferred to a hospital in Seoul. Jeongguk was the one who called me. They’re holding off on the transfer but ....you know how dad gets.”

I felt my head pound .

“What does he want me for?” I whispered in disbelief.

“I’m not sure. But I think you should at least go see him and find out what it is that he wants.”

I shook my head .

“I’m not going anywhere near him, I’m-”

The door swung open and I found myself jerking in surprise, the movement jostling my ribs and making me wince. I felt my eyes widen when I saw who it was, fingers scrambling to grab Yugyeom .

“Dad...” He whispered, sounding terrified and I felt that familiar jolt of sickening fear .

“There she is.... my precious little one.” My father’s eyes held no emotion as he stared at me, lips curled in a perfect smile. He looked so much like a good guy that it was nauseating.

I took a deep shuddering breath.

“the management here is terrible. I had to petition the fucking courts to get a permit to visit my own daughter.” He shook his head as he made his way over and I lurched away instinctively.

“I’m taking you home now. Bout time you came back to me.” He smiled, chillingly and I shook my head.

“No...thats not going to happen. I’m an adult, you cannot force me to...”

“You are my daughter. And you will be my daughter till you live. Cha Eun woo is still single. He’s looking for a wife and you were promised to him a long, long time ago. “

“Dad.... she’s fucking hurt...she got shot like three days ago can you not do this right now...” Yugyeon had stood up, reaching out to actually shove my father away and he looked surprised for a second.

He gave Yugyeom a glare but my brother didn’t back down, towering over my father easily.

“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to sound insensitive but it just worries me that my only daughter is choosing to stay in an island full of beasts and getting mauled quite often . Isn’t this the second time you got attacked in that same cabin, by wolves?”

“that doesn’t mean you can just offer me as a gift to one of your buddies.” I hissed.

“He’s one of the richest men in Seoul....you should be on your knees thanking me for letting you so much as breathe near him.”

“Isn’t he a werewolf?” Yugyeom frowned in confusion.

My father shrugged.

“I’ve since learned that your sister has a preference for them. Well if she’s going to spread her legs for an animal, better an animal I happen to hold the leash to....” He stared down at me with calculated cruelty.

The crude words made nausea rise up in my throat and I almost dry heaved.

“You’re not pimping me out to serve your own selfish purposes.” I shook my head.

“He’s here. Outside. He’s going to stay here and he’s going to bring you back to his apartment in Seoul and you’re going to stay there with him. End of discussion. Yeom, I want you to come back to Seoul with me now. “

Yugyeom looked torn as he stared at me and I bit my lips. Yugyeom was still a kid, still in college. He couldn’t afford to antagonize my father.

“I’ll be fine. Go ahead.” I smiled.

“I’ll send Eun Woo in.... “ My father nodded at me and then sighed. “ contrary to what you think, I don’t want you to hurt. I’m offering you a good life. Marry the fellow and spend your days lounging around in luxury. Thats hardly a punishment now, is it?”

I turned my head away in disgust.

Less than two minutes after he left, I felt a hand on my arm and I jolted.

“Mi Rae ssi.... I’m Eun Woo.”

I glared at the man in front of me, barely looking at him.

“I have no interest in being your wife.”

He looked bored at my outburst.

“I have no interest in indulging your interests. Your father is paying me handsomely to take you off his hands and that's all I’m doing. If you happen to be good at taking my knot, that's just gonna be a pleasurable bonus?” He pressed a thumb to my lips, stroking the skin in an almost gentle caress. .

A knock on the door made him pull away and I glanced up, relief flooding me when I saw it was Jungkook.

“She’s going to have to rest now, Mr. Cha. Her father told me that he’s arranging her transfer to Seoul but that's going to have to wait for tomorrow at least. “ He was staring at the beta with narrowed eyes and Eun Woo bowed lightly.

He shot me one leering glance before walking out casually.

“So...fiancee huh? You’ve been holding out on me...” Jungkook whispered thoughtfully and I flinched.

“Didn’t know he existed till five minutes ago..” I muttered.

“Are you in trouble, Rae?” Jungkook looked worried and I hesitated, before shaking my head.

“I’ll be fine. I can handle him. I just hate the thought of having to leave the preserve... even if its temporary. But I don’t want to annoy my dad right now... He’s... He can be irrational and i don’t want him to take it out on the Preserve and do something harmful to the research program itself , just to be petty.”

It was exactly the kind of thing he would do, too. My shoulder still had a lot of healing to do and it was unlikely that Cha Eun Woo would actually hurt me , at least till i got better. My dad, for all his anger was still rabidly protective of what he considered his. And i was definitely high on that list.

“So you’re going then?”

I caught the hint of disappointment in Jungkook’s tone.

“Aww....is my poor Jungkookie gonna miss me? If I weren’t sporting a broken rib and a messed up shoulder, I’d definitely, at least give you a handjob…” I waggled my eyebrows.

Predictably, his eyes went wide , lips tinged fire engine red in a second.

“Wha- Shut the fuck up, noona” He whined and I laughed.

And then I sobered up when he sat next to me, linking his fingers with mine .

“I’m serious, Jungkook. I’m gonna be just fine. My dad’s upto something. If I stick close, I can at least figure out what he’s planning. I don’t want him to hurt you guys.”

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

“Right little firecracker his daughter is. So fucking pretty and man, those lips. I’d like to take a drink from that....” Cha Eun Woo gripped the shot glass hard, throwing back the whiskey with practiced ease.

Taehyung struggled to keep his features neutral.

“ Yoon Jae hyun’s daughter? From the preserve?” He had meant to sound casual but he sounded like he was being strangled.

Eun Woo hummed.

“ Yeah....Her name is... Mirin....no wait ? Lirae? Mirae? ….. whatever. Poor thing. Apparently she has a tendency to get mauled by wolves too often. She was in bad shape when i saw her. “

Taehyung felt his heart lurch at that. He had wanted nothing more than to sink his jaws into Seo Joon’s throat, when he’d heard what had happened. If it weren’t for his abysmally packed schedule he would have rushed there as soon as he could.

As it was he had talked to a few of his acquaintances who were in prison. Seo Joon was going to go to prison and he wasn’t going to be coming out alive.

“So, she just.,...agreed to marry you then?”

“Not like she had a choice. The old man is going senile. Dude really thinks he stands a chance with his whole Reform Camps proposition. Wants to put weres in concentration camps.... What the fuck, are we in the middle ages..? He also thinks that betas are naturally resentful of Alphas or some shit. Kept feeding me crap about how you alphas want to subjugate the rest of us. Of course the fucker’s feeding into my Hotels and resorts so i just nodded along and agreed to his shit. Next thing I know he’s offering me his daughter in return to me being an ally in his campaign.. Figured I’d agree. See if i could get some inside dirt on him. I know you’ve been trying to bring him down for years, Tae...” Eun Woo gave him a reassuring smile.

Taehyung felt a jolt of pride for the beta. Cha Eun woo had been a close friend of his from childhood and he knew he would never betray their kind. He had worked hard to earn his position as one of the biggest tech moguls in the country and he stayed true to his roots. Taehyung liked Eun Woo.

Admired him even....

But the idea of him touching Mirae.....

His claws nearly popped out at the mere thought of it.

“And well if I get to fuck a nice little human bitch in the process, so be it right Taeh- Fuck!! “ Eun Woo jumped when Taehyung’s claw popped right out, shattering the beer mug in his hand and spraying both of them with the frothy liquid.

“Fuck...” Taehyung groaned and to his utter horror his fangs had dropped as well, his words slurring around the lengthened canines and he felt embarrassment flood his face. . When was the last time he’d popped a fanger in the middle of a fucking conversation....not since he’d been through puberty.

“Uh...you okay, pal?” Eun Woo looked worried now, beta eyes flashing green as he stared at him and Taehyung waved him off.

“Be uh... Be careful with the daughter.” He muttered , trying to sound nonchalant.

Eun Woo just waved him off.

“Whatever , I know the type Tae. Likes a good, feral fuck from a wolf that knows how to give it to her good, you know?. Could smell her all over the alpha doctor who works there... Jungkook was it? Yeah... Girl gets around a lot, i could tell. And you can just tell that she’s going to be so fucking tight when you knot her you know, i mean human bitches always are but those hips just look like they-” Eun Woo stopped, stunned when Taehyung suddenly shoved the table away from him, hard. The older gripped the table and stood up on shaky limbs.

“ I need to get going...” Taehyung fought the urge to shift, his wolf warring inside him, snarling at him to shift and leap across the table and devour the man across from them. To lock his fangs on the beta’s throat and rip his jugular out.

He’s threatening our mate...... He’s talking about what is ours....

The voice in his head was so clear and concise that he nearly blacked out at the very force of it.

Eun Woo was saying something behind him but Taehyung was moving swiftly , stumbling to the bar where Jimin was taking one of the shifts.

“I need to go home...” Taehyung choked out. “ Call....fuck... Call my chauffeur.”

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

“Pre rut symptoms....are you fucking serious...?” Taehyung growled at the doctor taking his vitals. the man, long used to Taehyung’s intimidatingly deep voice, merely hummed. The man had been one of his father’s dearest friends. And one of Taehyung’s most trusted confidantes.

“You’re body believes you mate is around. A mate you haven’t yet claimed. It’s reacting to it.”

Next to him Ji hyun was looking disturbingly excited.

“It’s not you.” Taehyung snapped at the tall woman who recoiled in shock. Taehyung felt momentarily bad but the truth was he had been trying to break up with Ji hyun for a month now. The model was just so shamelessly clingy it was getting to him. and he most certainly did not want her around if he was going into rut.

What he wanted was a luscious, chestnut-haired human with ebony eyes and a scent like heaven.

Fuck... he was burning up and his skin felt like it was stretched thin.

“You need to leave Ji hyun. I want to talk to the doctor alone.” He demanded and the were bowed, moving out of the room quickly. Taehyung turned back to the doctor.

“So what do I do?” He demanded. “ I don’t.... my mate died two years ago. “

The doctor sighed.

“She was not your mate. I told you that already. She tricked you. She was wearing your mate’s scent but it wasn’t hers...” The doctor shook his head.

Taehyung growled.

“I fucking know that..... And I’m gonna fucking bury Yoon Jae hyun into the ground for what he did to me..... But I need to have my senses about me if I want to do that...Him and his entire drug cartel is coming down.....But. That's not gonna happen if i go into fucking rut now.. so close to me taking over office. So tell me how to fix this. “

“Who is the girl?” The doctor said casually.

“What?”

“the girl who smells like your wife. Like your mate. Who is she?”

Taehyung sighed.

“Its Yoon Jae hyun’s daughter.” He muttered.

Dr. Lee’s eyebrows shot straight up to his hairline.

“Oh no... do you think he .... again?”

Taehyung shook his head. He had distanced himself entirely from Mirae just to make sure he wasn’t being pulled into another fucking trap. But so far , from what he learned, the drug did not work on humans. There was no way a human’s scent could be manipulated to fool his wolf.

And that meant that it wasn’t a trap at all.

His wolf really did find a mate in a fucking human of all things.

God, he couldn’t believe the sheer irony of this.

“it doesn’t work on humans. It is her scent. She’s... She’s the one I want.... “ He groaned.

The doctor chuckled.

“ You mean, she’s the one your wolf wants?”

Taehyung frowned.

“Isn’t that what i said?”

“No, you said she’s the one you want and it makes me wonder.....do you perhaps....care for the girl?”

Taehyung shook his head swiftly.

“I barely know her...she...she used to look after Luna. “ He finished.

“Luna...? Interesting. “ The man’s words carried a hint of amusement and Taehyung felt his hackles rise.

“ What does that tone mean?”

“I’m just saying.... You don’t let people watch Luna that easily. You’re fiercely protective of your daughter. If you let this girl watch her, you must trust her at least.”

Taehyung sighed.

“I.. of course i trust her …. she’s a good girl. A good....person...”

“ I would suggest spending your rut with her. Claiming her if she’s interested. With you being you, I doubt she’s going to refuse.” The older man’s eyes fairly twinkled,

“I’m not knotting her when I’m on my fucking rut …” He snapped. “ I’ll likely break her in two. “

The doctor chuckled.

“It wouldn’t be a very pleasant experience for her, yes. But ….there's no reason why you can’t make it enjoyable for her. “ His tone turned gentle and more serious. “ Listen to me Taehyung-ah...… There is a reason wolves mate for life. We are not meant to be alone. If your wolf has found a mate, he’s not going to let you function till you claim her. That's just the way our body’s are built. You need to talk to her. Make some sort of arrangement. You have three weeks at the most before your rut hits and trust me you don’t want to be alone when that happens. “

Taehyung felt his insides churn at the prospect.

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

“No fucking shit.... You couldn’t have just told me that instead of letting me mouth off about her like that ? “ Eun Woo groaned , watching Taehyung with guilty eyes.

Taehyung brushed him off.

“It’s fine. I just.... can you just...keep her at your place till she gets better. I’m ...not in a good headspace right now and i don’t want to hurt her. she needs to recover.”

Eun Woo nodded.

“The doctor says three weeks and she’ll be fine. I’m a bit busy myself so I’ll just arrange for her brother to pick her up. Her dad’s busy meeting some suppliers. I sent the details to your men.... Did they get it?”

Taehyung nodded.

“The guy’s a bigger idiot than i thought. He’s actually met a few of these dealers himself. We just need one of them to ID him and he’s going to get locked up for life.”

Eun Woo nodded.

“Everything by the book, Tae. We stick to the laws....no bloodshed without cause and no one gets hurt. He likes to hide behind the fucking law when he’s trying to destroy our entire species , we’re gonna use that same ;law to rail him to the ground .”

Taehyung grinned.

“ Not just on the ground, Eun Woo. I’m gonna be putting him six feet under.”

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

The recovery from my shoulder was surprisingly easy compared to the bruise on my ribs. Movement was difficult and it definitely hurt but my pain threshold had definitely gone up. It helped that Cha Eun Woo had stayed away from me and Yugyeom was on a three week break . We crashed out at his apartment and It was like being a kid again.

We spent the days lounging by the indoor pool or playing video games. Yugyeom was a great cook and he liked cooking.

Two and a half weeks after I had moved in, I was finally out of the sling. The physiotherapist visited me at the apartment and after making me move my hands well, she gave the go ahead to start my normal routine ahead.

“I still want you to take it easy. Your ribs are healed and so is your shoulder but no roughhousing.... I’m only saying that because i know how it is i when siblings live together.” She smiled and I laughed, nodding.

“I’ll make sure she’s resting well, noona.” Yugyeom said seriously.

I closed the door as the doctor left, smiling as I watched Yugyeom trip over my sling on the couch, when the doorbell rang again.

Surprised , I turned back tot he door.

“ Did you forget something, Unnie-?” I froze in shock.

Kim Taehyung stood leaning against the wall, looking like he had run all the way from his home across the city.

“Taehyung-ssi?” I stammered out, taking in the untucked shirt, sweat drenched hair and flashing red eyes .

“I’m.... I fucked up.” He whispered, eyes fluttering shut. It took me a second to realize that he was falling and instinct made throw myself under him, holding my hands out to catch him.

Pain shot straight up my shoulder as it took the entire brunt of his weight. The pain only lasted a second though, because Yugyeom was shoving me out of the way and grabbing the taller alpha by the waist.

“Holy shit....is this Kim Taehyung?” He looked awestruck as he stared at him and I felt my heart race. Taehyung seemed conscious but his breathing was raspy.

I pressed my palm against his cheek and his eyes fluttered open .

“I’m... I need you.” Taehyung growled right at me.

Yugyeom froze next to me and I felt my throat go dry.

“I... sorry?” I squeaked out.

“You...need you....under me... fuck...”

“What the fuck, Rae?” Yugyeom hissed , face turning red as he tried to maneuver the alpha werewolf to the couch .

I stayed frozen, having no idea what the fuck was going on.

Taehyung scrambled to a sitting position on the couch, gripping the cusions and he was paniting, his eyes wild as he stared right at me.

“Mine.” His voice was ten times deeper than usual, fairly vibrating with power and Yugyeom went completely still. He was shaking as he reached for me, the terror evident in his face.

“Oh, shit... Rae...is he....? Fuck , is he -” My little brother sounded terrified and I pulled him behind me.

Taehyung’s eyes flashed red again and then they shifted to my brother. His gaze narrowed and his mouth opened.

There was a split second when I knew exactly what was going to happen and I whirled around , grabbing Yugyeom and shoving him straight into the hallway leading to the front door.

“ YUGGIE, RUN!!!” I screamed with all my might, and behind me Taehyung let out a vicious growl, pouncing across the room at my brother. Yugyeom managed to avoid him by a hairsbreadth and instinct made him move faster to the door but he stopped near the door looking terrified but torn.

“ Rae...come with me,...come...”

I stared at the alpha on the floor, my heart racing.

Taehyung was clearly fighting against the wolf in him, trying to stay down, on his knees, fingers gripping the carpet to ground himself but the little growls that he let out told me that it was a fight he wasn’t winning. He looked up at me and there was so much pain and contrition in his gaze that I felt my heart break.

“I’m...sorry...” Taehyung gasped out eyes fluttering shut. He was panting harder now, fingers clenched into fists around the carpet and voice ragged. i looked up at my baby brother and he looked so young and scared that I couldn’t stand it.

“Its okay.... just go... I’ll be fine...he won’t hurt me... Just go...” I whispered desperately and Yugyeom shook his head.

“No... No... you’ve got to come with me... Rae...Noona....”

He never called me noona. I realized just how scared he was and tried to comfort him, but wary of going near him, lest Taehyung attack him again.

“Yugyeom listen to me carefully. He’s on his rut. He’s not gonna hurt me, he just thinks I’m his mate. If you stay here he’s going to see you as a threat, so you need to leave..If I come with you he will hunt us down....I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself. You just need to go.”

Yugyeom nodded, moving to the door and I turned back, feeling my stomach clench when Taehyung’s claws came out, tearing through our rug with ease.

I heard the door shut behind me and I stayed perfectly still.

Taehyung was still trembling and he finally looked up at me. Now that we were alone he was distinctly calmer.

“I shouldn’t have come here.” He rasped out.

I nodded.

“So why did you?” I asked, staring at him as he stumbled to his feet.

“You smell ....fuck you just smell like. ....like...”

“Like your wife, yes.” I muttered . “ So you want me to be stand in for your wife tonight?”

Taehyung’s eyes shot up to stare at me.

“My wife .... she worked for your father.” He choked out.

I straed at him, the blood running cold in my veins.

“What?”

“Your father hired her.... to get rid of me. She... used a drug . A drug that confuses a wolf’s senses. Makes the wolf think he’s found his mate. Wolves cannot hurt or live without their mates. Its important to us. She...She got pregnant on the night we mated and by the time I found out she was already carrying Luna and there was nothing I could do....I couldn’t...it wasn’t even a fucking bond.... I couldn’t sense her...couldn’t feel her...couldn’t muster any kind of affection for her but ... but she was carrying my baby and I just couldn’t bring myself to send her away......”

“Taehyung...” I whispered, remembering how Luna had talked about her father not liking her mother.

“Its not natural for a wolf my age to be without a mate. But ....that scent ....I... I never picked up on it with anyone else till I... “ He sighed.

“Till you met me.”

“Till I met you.”

I stared at the floor.

“I’m not.... I’m not actually in rut yet. It’s still a day or so away. i didn’t want to come here but.... I’m supposed to be taking over the office in three days. When I do, I can finally use my position to bring your father down. He is using his drug dealers and suppliers to mess with our biology and its ...something sacred to us. Wolves mate for life and to make a wolf doubt his ability to choose his mate is the worst kind of sacrilege.....”

“What do you want me to do?”

He stared at me....

“If I go into rut and I don’t have.... my mate ...it’s going to fuck me up. I don’t wanna go into the gory details but I most certainly will not be able to take over the office. ” He laughed without mirth.

There was nothing else to be said , was there?

“You have no right..... asking me to do this.....” I whispered , angry .

“I know.... I know and if you say no, I will walk out this door and you will never see me again.”

I laughed.

“I think you came here because you knew. “

He didn’t respond.

“You fucking knew I wouldn’t be able to say no to you. “

His gaze was steady as he stared at me.

“I’ll take care of you.... I won’t...this isn’t a one night stand or a no strings attached thing, Rae..... You will be mine. I’ll be yours. “

“And yet, your eyes tell me that there is nothing you hate more, than standing here asking me to be your mate......” I said bitterly.

He didn’t deny it.

“Will you come with me , then?”

I stared at his handsome face , the surreal beauty of it. And I thought of my father and how he wanted only to destroy anything that he didn’t understand. If Taehyung was going to bring my father down , I wasn’t going to be the thing that stopped him from doing it.

“Let me get my clothes.”

AUTHOR’S NOTE : IT WAS EASIER GIVING BIRTH THAN WRITING THIS FIC

just kidding i love werewolf tae. Please let me know what you thought uwu

#taehyung fics #taehyung fanfic #taehyung #taehyung smut #bts fics.bts smut #bts au #bts werewolf #taehyung werewolf au #bts fics #bts smut

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writinglizards · 4 years

Text

Covet my Heart

Summary: Jaskier keeps sleeping with the wrong people. It puts them in some...interesting situations.

Read on Ao3

"The fuck did you do this time?" Geralt growls, irritated, when Jaskier comes skittering around the corner, eyes wide with barely concealed panic. They're in the middle of the open market in a little town outside Lyria and Jaskier's got a pair of angry brothers hot on his heels.

"Nothing she didn't ask for, fuck--" Jaskier ducks his head as the shouting gets closer. There's no good spot to hide and Geralt's not moving.

"Fuck," Geralt sighs, a weary sound.

"Geralt," Jaskier hisses, goes to duck around him (if Geralt won't hide him, Jaskier will just...hide himself. Fuck), but Geralt catches him with an arm around his waist after only the barest hesitation.

"There's no good spot to hide out here," he says, reinforcing the observation Jaskier's already made, voice more patient that Jaskier's sure he feels.

"Yes, but I can't just--" there's a crash not too far back; his pursuers are at the end of the row.

"Just--" Geralt sighs again, "follow my lead," and he tucks Jaskier just a little closer to his side, arm around his waist tightening. Jaskier instinctively hides his face against Geralt's chest, tries to shrink into his shadow. Geralt turns them, as a unit, and walks them up to a nearby stall. They stand as if they're perusing the offerings--jewelry, not to Geralt's taste at all, but certainly to Jaskier's. He fidgets, tries to make it look like he’s just casually browsing with the bulk of a witcher wrapped around him which is just...it’s fine. It’s all fine.

"Can I help you, boys?" the stall salesman asks, hands resting calmly on the counter. Jaskier jolts, Geralt squeezes his waist gently, reassuring.

"Which one were you looking at?" Geralt asks, voice gone soft and gentle like it does when he's speaking to Roach. The brothers are thudding up the aisle, still angry, somewhere behind them.

"Um, the--that one. The ring," he studders out, pointing to one of the rings, the first thing to catch his eye. It's beautiful and slender, likely meant for a woman's hand. The man smiles, takes it gently between thumb and forefinger.

"A good choice," he nods, holding the ring out, "And it looks like it might fit," he says, indicating Jaskier's hands, "would you like to try it on?" Jaskier's...not entirely sure what's going on right now. His nerves are in his throat, the men who'd been pursuing him are nearly on top of them, and Geralt has him trying on a ring? He cuts his gaze back to Geralt, who merely nods. Jaskier reaches out--

--and they're thrust against the counter, hard. Anger mars the salesman's face, and Geralt whirls them, a snarl on his lips, arm still tight around Jaskier's waist. Behind them is the brothers.

"There you are you fuckin fop," the one snarls, reaching as if to yank him away from Geralt, "knew we'd catch you eventually. Run to hide with your witcher?"

"Don't touch him," Geralt warns, voice low and dangerous, shifts to put himself more between Jaskier and the men. The other brother fidgets, the only sign of nerves between them.

"He fucked our sis," the younger explains, tone somewhere between anger and supplication, "we just wanna teach him a little lesson about keepin his prick to hisself."

Geralt growls. "The bard is mine. You're mistaken." And oh, what that tone, those words, does to him. Arousal, white-hot and nearly painful shoots straight through Jaskier, settles heavily in his gut.

"Bullshit," the older spits, not buying it in the least, gaze jumping from Jaskier to Geralt and back again. "Prove it."

Jaskier has just enough time to wonder how the fuck these men think Geralt's going to prove Jaskier’s his bard and hasn’t been fucking around with their sister before Geralt's tipping his chin up and pressing a claiming kiss to his mouth. It's sudden, possessive, and Jaskier's frozen with some mix of terror and surprise. Oh. That’s how. Geralt nips his lower lip, gently, and Jaskier melts, kissing back like a drowning man seeking air. His hands slip upwards into Geralt's hair and Geralt settles two large palms around his waist, squeezing with almost too much pressure (it's glorious).

Geralt moves to pull back after a few, long moments, but Jaskier leans forward, chases his lips without thinking. Geralt grunts, indulges him another moment or two, before finally pulling away, one hand on Jaskier's cheek to keep him from chasing the kiss again.

"Mine," Geralt rumbles, sending shivers through Jaskier's core. He can't seem to pull his gaze away from those gold eyes, pupils blown just a little too wide.

It’s silent a beat too long. Geralt breaks Jaskier’s gaze to glower over his shoulder at the men. "Uh--S-sorry master witcher, sir, we'll just--" the younger brother fumbles, yanking on the elder and nearly dragging him away. The elder doesn’t look strictly convinced still, but it doesn’t matter. They’ve obviously re-thought their plan. With the immediate threat gone, Jaskier expects Geralt to drop his hold on him, step away. Instead, he turns him gently back to the jewelry stall with a hand on the small of his back. The salesman is still there and still holding the ring, frowning at the retreating men.

"Sorry 'bout that. We've got some rough ones here. Now, did you want to try the ring on?"

There's no need, they've thrown Jaskier's pursuers off his trail but--

"Try it on, Jask," Geralt murmurs. It sends another wave of heat through him, but he does as he's told, takes the ring from the salesmen with only slightly shaky fingers, slips it on to his right ring finger. It's beautiful--slim and flattering, the gem a pretty amber color the same as Geralt's eyes. It makes his heart skip. "You like it?"

"Yeah," he breathes, flexing his fingers to feel the way it shifts on his hand, "it's gorgeous work."

"How much?" Geralt asks. Jaskier's eyes snap up to his face.

"Three hundred crown," the salesman says. Jaskier proffers the ring back to the man, shaking his head, even as he smiles.

“It’s exquisite,” he tells him, and he can’t help the little bubble of longing in his chest as he stares at it, “but alas I’m not in the market for quite such a fine piece of jewelry at the moment. Geralt?” He cuts a look back over his shoulder at Geralt, whose gone very, very quiet. He doesn't know what to think about the thoughtful look on Geralt's face.

Geralt just hums, and loops his arm around Jaskier's waist again. It lights something warm in Jaskier’s chest, even as they leave the little ring behind. He doesn’t need another ring, even if it had reminded him of Geralt’s eyes. They meander their way back towards the inn and their room, Jaskier still wrapped in Geralt’s hold. When Geralt pulls away behind closed doors, it’s like a cloud passing in front of the sun--Jaskier’s world gets a little colder, a little duller. But he’s safe, after all and they'll be leaving tomorrow morning. Jaskier plans to hide out in their room until then, won't even play tonight. He’s not sure he could keep the swelling feeling in his chest under control while he played anyway.

The next evening, after they've left the town behind, Jaskier finds the ring tucked into the front pocket of his pack where he keeps his extra lute strings. His chest siezes. Geralt went back for it. He slips it on, twists it a little around his finger.

When Geralt sees it later around their little fire, he smiles, a little thing, barely more than a quirk at the corner of his mouth. It sends Jaskier's stomach into a riot of butterflies, reignites that swelling feeling in his chest. He doesn't even know what to do with that, only knows that it leaves him feeling a little too warm, a little too shivery.

He wants Geralt to smile like that again.

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

Jaskier promises himself he's not going to put them in a similar situation again. He's going to keep it in his pants (or at least be more discreet about it). Besides, he’s not sure he could survive being saved by Geralt like that again. His heart couldn’t take it.

His resolution lasts only as long as it takes to get to the next major town.

"Geralt, Geralt, wait--"

"Jaskier, shut up," Geralt shoves him into the tiny alcove of the baron’s manor, presses him face-first against the wall before pressing in over Jaskier's back, close enough to engulf his form, protect him from the gaze of the pursuing guards. "Did you have to fuck the baron's daughter?" He huffs; they've only been here a day. It's a rhetorical question, but Jaskier answers anyway, head turned back at an awkward angle as he tries to keep his cheek from pressing against the wall.

"Excuse you, Geralt. It is very closed minded of you to assume--"

"The baron's son, then," he sighs, put-upon, "not that it matters when you're about to be jailed or run out of town."

"It very much does matter--" he starts, only to hush immediately when Geralt gives a warning squeeze to the hip in his grip. His other arm slips around Jaskier's front, presses to his chest to hold him still. Under Geralt's fingers, Jaskier's heart jackrabbits.

"Shh, they're just down the hall." Geralt's voice is remarkably even as his breath ghosts over Jaskier's ear. He presses in closer, forces him to shuffle a little father forward, closer to the wall. He's practically glued to Jaskier's back, hugging every contour. It's...rapidly becoming a problem.

"Geralt," he whispers, soft but urgent. He doesn't get any farther, though. Geralt shifts his hand up from where it presses against Jaskier's chest to cover his mouth, firm but not painful.

"They're coming this way, just--follow my lead," he murmurs, voice so low it sends a shiver down Jaskier's spine, sends Jaskier’s heart pounding that much faster. He’s sure Geralt can feel what his words do to him, with the way he's pressed against him. He can’t help but picture the last time Geralt asked Jaskier to follow his lead.

Geralt hesitates before he leans farther into him, removes his hand from Jaskier's mouth to catch a hand, places it gently on the wall beside Jaskier's face. The little amber ring glints at him, sends a shiver of pleasure through his core. He jolts a moment later as he realizes what Geralt intends to imply, his other hand moving to mirror its twin on the other side of his face, cheeks hot.

When Geralt's satisfied with that, he drops his hand to wrap his arms around Jaskier's torso, presses his face into Jaskier's neck and just...breathes, warm puffs of air ghosting over the delicate skin of his throat. Another shiver wracks his body. He's sure he reeks of arousal by now, but Geralt just hums, presses impossibly closer. He's got to know how Jaskier feels by now. He's been shit at hiding it, especially lately.

Jaskier's wetting his lips in preparation to say...something, maybe make an off-color joke about all this...when he hears a shout, the clatter of boots on stone. It's apparently what Geralt's been waiting for.

He growls, hips snapping forward to grind against Jaskier's ass. His teeth press against the nap of Jaskier's neck in a snarl as his arms change their grip from tender to punishing. Heat zings through him, from the roots of his hair to the tips of his toes, so sudden he's nearly dizzy. He whines and Geralt grunts in response, rewards him with another thrust that's too brief for Jaskier to tell if this is all an act or whether Geralt is as...affected...as he is. He thinks he feels the blunt, hot pressure of Geralt's cock against his ass, but he's so lust addled he could be mistaken, thinks he must be--Geralt doesn't feel that way about him.

The boots close in, clatter to a stop. "Oh, shit, uh--"

"Get out," Geralt growls, voice low and dangerous even though he doesn't pull away from Jaskier, keeps him hidden with his bulk. Jaskier moans, soft and breathy, at his tone.

"Um, sorry, but we're, uh, looking for--" One of the guards starts, nervous but undeterred.

"I said, get out," Geralt thunders. Panic swoops through Jaskier's stomach, mixing uncomfortably with the arousal that refuses to abate even when Geralt pulls away to level the guards with a look.

"Oh, sorry Master Witcher, we'll just--" there's a frantic quality to their footsteps as the group hustles past and continues down the corridor past their little alcove. Jaskier barely bites down on a nervous giggle, sinks his teeth into his lower lip to keep himself in check.

Geralt molds himself across the expanse of Jaskier's back again, hips canted politely away from Jaskier's ass as the footsteps grow quieter before fading out altogether. Jaskier knows they're in the clear when Geralt groans, something distinctly exasperated, and sags his weight on top of Jaskier in clear retaliation. Jaskier barely locks his knees in time to keep them both upright.

"Fuck," Geralt mumbles, face still pressed into Jaskier's throat. He may no longer be able to feel Geralt pressed firm against his ass, but the nearness still sends another shiver through him, raises goosebumps on his arms despite the relative warmth of the keep.

"Did you have to go completely boneless, you great brute?" Jaskier hisses, mustering up some irritation about the surprising weight. Geralt weighs a gods damned ton and he's got to focus on something other than the curling heat of arousal still simmering in his gut or he's going to embarrass himself.

Something about his tone must hit home--Geralt jerks back, seems to give himself a mental shake. "Sorry," he says, tone flat. He pulls back, allows Jaskier to straighten himself out with shakey hands. Geralt looks remarkably unruffled--Jaskier must have only imagined the hard, hot pressure against his ass (wishful thinking, as always).

They bundle out of the baron's place in a hurry. Jaskier desperately wants to ask about what the fuck that was, but he's leery he's already built it up into something it wasn't. They don't talk about it, no matter how badly Jaskier wants to bring it up--he has no idea how to.

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

After that, Jaskier swears to himself he's not going to let it happen again. It doesn't matter he's already made that promise to himself, he means it this time. So of course, it happens again.

He throws open the door to their room at the inn, still half-listening to the sounds of commotion in the bar below--he didn't even get the chance to do anything this time. Yes, okay, he'd been flirting with the young man at the corner table, but he hadn't realized he was the alderman's son and he'd layed off when he had. Apparently, his luck is just that bad.

"What is it now?" Geralt can guess, if his tone is anything to go by.

"I didn't even do anything this time, Geralt," he groans. He's aware he's whining, but gods above, this is rediculious.

He sighs, sets the sword he'd been sharpening off to the side along with the whetstone. He rises, crosses the room to stand at Jaskier's elbow. His face has the far away, vaguely pinched look he gets when he's listening.

"Well, they're certainly looking for you," he says after a moment. Jaskier groans again.

"Just my luck. What--"

"Shh." Geralt's still listening intently, "they're coming up the stairs."

"Fuck," Jaskier swears, spinning on the spot to survey the tiny room. There's nowhere good to hide, really--under the bed isn't shadowed enough, the armoire isn't big enough. He's just figuring standing behind a curtain and praying to Melitele is his best bet when Geralt catches him around the waist, tugs him to follow. He follows, if only because he trusts Geralt implicitly--he'll protect Jaskier, always (even when it's his own fault, even when Jaskier's a greater risk than an asset).

The look on Geralt's face is calculating. "Get on the bed."

"What?" Jaskier can feel the flush creeping up his throat, tries to tamp down the swell of embarrassed arousal at the request (he's an adult, damn it, and Geralt doesn't mean it that way, he's sure).

Geralt opens his mouth to answer before his attention snaps back to listening. His expression is still vaguely pinched, a little leery. "Just...trust me, Jaskier." And damn it, he does.

He scrambles up onto the bed, turning to face Geralt just in time to be face to face when Geralt clambers over him--his legs spread instinctively and Geralt settles between them, too close for comfort. Awkwardly, he leans forward, nearly aligning them from shoulder to thigh. Jaskier's dick twitches valiantly. He wills himself not to react.

"They think you plan to head back down and woo him anyway," Geralt breathes, voice soft with how close they are, "they're in the hallway listening. If they think you've taken another--" he trails off, eyebrow raised. Ah. Fuck.

"So we're just going to--" Jaskier cuts off, shifts restlessly beneath him, eyes averted. He catches Geralt's lips twitch, a subtle thing but practically a grin on his witcher, "you're enjoying this," he accuses.

"Mm," Geralt hums, tips his head forward to press his face to the curve of Jaskier's throat, inhales blatantly. He makes a pleased rumble and Jaskier can feel his face heat, focuses on keeping his head clear, "So are you."

He gasps, a quiet thing as Geralt presses his lips to the smooth expanse of Jaskier's throat, mouths pointedly at his pulse point as if to emphasize how Jaskier's heart is hammering. It’s fine, it’s fine, they’re just making noise, it’s fine--

"Need to be louder than that," Geralt murmurs, lips still brushing his throat. He's looking up at Jaskier from under his lashes, entirely too tempting.

This feels like a dream, like it can't possibly be real. Geralt isn't offering sex, of course, but the implication--he breaks off that line of thinking. That way lies madness and broken hearts. "Louder, huh?" he replies, just as quiet. He finds his fingers trailing along Geralt's jaw of their own violation, slipping up into his hair. He tugs gently, testing, and Geralt makes another pleased sound, arches into it. Jaskier moans in response.

"Yeah," Geralt rasps, "like that." Jaskier doesn't know if he's talking about the grip in his hair or the moan. He feels feverish with how badly he wants.

"Geralt--"

"Yeah?" he sounds a little breathless, a little horse. Arousal clenches a little tighter in Jaskier's gut, arousal Geralt has to know about. It’s hard to focus. Geralt abruptly drops his hips and rocks against him. They both break off to moan, louder than they should be at an inn. Someone bangs on the neighboring wall. Good.

Between them, Jaskier can feel the hot, hard outline of Geralt's cock through his trousers as he rolls his hips against him again. They're almost aligned--if Geralt shifted a little to the right he'd be grinding right against his dick instead of the crease of his thigh. The fact that Geralt's hard sends his thoughts spinning, leaves him breathless and panting.

"Fuck," Jaskier warbles, arching underneath him and tugging hard with the fist still in Geralt's hair. It's like pulling a switch--Geralt chokes, moaning brokenly, hips stuttering. "You like that, love?" Jaskier asks, rolling his hips up as he tugs again. They're supposed to be making noise, right? This is just that. Noise. Doesn't have to mean anything.

"Yeah," Geralt gasps, soft and pliant in his hands suddenly, and fuck if he doesn't sound beautiful, just this side of wrecked already. This absolutely means something, no matter how much it probably shouldn't. Jaskier doesn't know if Geralt's playing along or if he's really as into this as Jaskier is, but the erection rubbing along his thigh is real either way.

"Fuck yeah you do," Jaskier pants, free hand settling on Geralt's hip to hold him steady as they roll together, graceless and a little frantic. Geralt tucks forward, presses his face back down into Jaskier's throat to whine quietly between deep, panting breaths. Jaskier fits his fingers close to the base of his skull, tugs firmly again. Watching Geralt arch and moan is addictive. "Let me hear you, darling."

"Fuck, Jaskier," Geralt whines, trembling. His name in that tone feels like a bolt of lightning in his veins. Distantly, Jaskier knows they've crossed multiple lines some minutes back, that this has jumped from "faking loud sex noises" to something painfully sincere almost immediately, but with the noises Geralt's making, the way he's shaking and pressing into his touches, he can't think.

"Gods, you're beautiful," he groans, releases his hair to run a soothing hand down his back. Geralt folds back down against him, presses his lips to Jaskier's jaw, still making quiet little noises as their hips shift together.

"Jask," Geralt says, breath ghosting hot over his throat, his jaw, the shell of his ear. It's too quiet for anyone in the hallway to hear, "'m pretty sure they're gone."

And that should be the end of it. They've sufficiently persuaded the guards Jaskier's preoccupied upstairs with another lover. But Geralt isn't moving.

"Yeah?" He asks, dipping his fingers under the hem of Geralt's shirt to trace gentle patterns across his lower back. "You want to stop?" Geralt shakes.

"You don't--"

"Shh," Jaskier cuts him off, presses his palm flat to the small of his back, skin to skin. "I didn't ask about me. Do you want to stop?" He's quiet too long, breath harsh where he's still tucked to Jaskier's throat, face averted. "We don't have to," he murmurs, tips his head so he's resting his cheek against the top of Geralt's head.

Geralt makes a tiny, punched out noise. "Fuck, Jaskier. I can't--"

"It's okay," he soothes. He can't quite mask the way disappointment settles heavy in his chest, even as he shifts to slide out from under him. Before he can, Geralt drops his weight all at once, pinning him in place. Jaskier startles, eyes a little wide.

Geralt wets his lips, nervous. "No, Jask, I'm--I want it, please, I want it so bad," his words are a little frantic, as if ripped from somewhere deep. He's panting still as he presses his face roughly again Jaskier's shoulder, obviously embarrassed. Something in Jaskier's chest surges painfully.

"Oh, darling, that's okay," Jaskier shifts the hand on Geralt's hip up to card through his hair, "you can have as much of me as you want, sweetheart. Always." Geralt whines at that, hips jerking. Jaskier gasps, digs his fingers into Geralt's scalp a little, delights in the way he shivers.

"Please," Geralt raps out. He cranes his head back when Jaskier pulls his hair again, gentle this time, to let Jaskier see his face, finally. He's flushed, pupils blown, eyelids fluttering.

"Can I kiss you?" Jaskier asks, leaning up to hover a scant few inches away from Geralt's lips.

"Please," he repeats, holds so, so still while he waits for Jaskier to close the distance. The first press of lips is tentative, gentle, makes Jaskier's chest tight with an emotion he's terrified to name.

"Fuck, Geralt," he says against his lips, both hands now pushing up his shirt, palms sliding across the scarred expanse of his back, "Tell me what you want, darling."

"Want you to fuck me," he mumbles, cheeks red and eyes downcast. Jaskier goes hot.

"Fuck, you'd really--? You're going to kill me," he mumbles. Geralt whines, hides his face in Jaskier's throat again (he's shy in bed and it's painfully adorable, makes Jaskier feel fit to burst with that emotion he won't acknowledge).

"Thought for sure you'd want to fuck me into next week," Jaskier teases. Geralt starts to stiffen, "this is a nice surprise, though," he soothes. He doesn't want Geralt to think he doesn't want him this way--he does, gods does he ever--but he is a little surprised, still.

"I can--" He starts.

"No. I'd be delighted, love. Let me take care of you," he says, pressing another gentle round of kisses to Geralt's mouth, "you deserve to be taken care of, Geralt." Geralt groans softly as he relaxes back into that placidity of earlier, melts into the kisses. He opens beautifully, lets Jaskier lick into his mouth, claim him in a mimicry of that kiss in the marketplace before he'd bought Jaskier the ring. He’s still wearing it.

"Up for a moment, darling. Let me go get the oil," Jaskier breathes into the kiss. He follows Geralt's roll to the side so he's on top, hands settling on his broad chest, fingers skimming under the hem of his rucked up shirt to brush bare skin. Geralt shivers. "Be a dear and get this off for me, too," he says when he pulls back, leaving Geralt with another parting kiss before he forces himself up and away to dig through his bags.

He finds the oil momentarily. "Alright, sweetheart--" he starts, but his words die in his throat when he turns back to find Geralt nearly bare, stripped down to his underthings, one hand cupping the bulge in his smallclothes that makes Jaskier's mouth water.

"Fuck."

Geralt has the nerve to fucking smirk, arch his back, press his palm roughly to his still hidden dick, moan brokenly. He's putting on a show.

"Oh darling, you should have told me you like to show off. Fuck, I could watch you forever." The act cracks when Geralt blushes, bright and adorable. The contrast is delightful. "And you're so shy," he teases, grin soft.

"'m not shy," Geralt grumbles, ducking his face as if to hide the blush.

"Oh, dear heart it's okay. It's cute."

"'m not cute," Geralt continues to grouse as Jaskier strips himself of his doublet and chemise before climbing back onto the bed, settling himself over Geralt's hips.

"You are," Jaskier grins, leans down to press a kiss to his forehead, the tip of his nose, his cheek. Geralt gives a growl that rocks Jaskier to his core. "Yeah," he groans. That too.

A large palm slides up Jaskier's side, thumbs at a nipple. He bites back another noise, leans forward to mouth at Geralt's exposed collarbones. He feels Geralt's other hand settle on the small of his back, fingers teasing at the waistband of his trousers. Jaskier focuses on kissing down his chest, pausing to swirl his tongue around a nipple, suck it into his mouth. Geralt groans, soft and lovely.

He spends a few moments just lavishing his chest until he's panting and writhing, bucking up into the hot suction of Jaskier's mouth before he moves down lower, to kiss at the crest of a hip, the dip of his lower stomach. Geralt tenses when he pulls back, breathes warm air over the tented fabric of his smallclothes.

"Fuck, Jaskier, please--"

"Yeah?" he asks, voice low, "what do you want, Geralt?" It's a tease, revenge for the posturing earlier. They both know it.

"Fucking--shit. Just," he breaks off, flexes his hips up. Jaskier rides the movement, keeps out of his range, one hand on Geralt's thigh. He can feel the grin pulling across his own face. Geralt whines, "want your mouth, Jask, please."

Jaskier groans. "So sweet for me, darling," he says, ducking forward to mouth at his dickhead through the fabric. Geralt's hips snap up, back arching.

"Fuck!" The neighbor from earlier bangs on the wall again. Jaskier pulls back to laugh.

"We're going to be thrown out at this rate," he snickers, pressing his face into the crease of Geralt's thigh.

"Then get to it, bard," Geralt growls. It would be intimidating to anyone not Jaskier.

"In good time, darling. Don't you want to feel good?" Even as he says it, he hooks his fingers in Geralt's smallclothes, drags them down.

"Your mouth could be put to better use," Geralt grunts, hips flexing as he helps Jaskier undress him.

"Bossy," Jaskier grins, just before he takes Geralt back in his mouth. They both moan. Geralt's thick and perfect against Jaskier's tongue, the taste salty and warm and decidedly masculine. He focuses on relaxing his jaw, working him a little deeper with every pass. He's not sure what he expected of Geralt, in bed exactly. Or more accurately maybe, he does know what he pictured; rough, frantic, Geralt very much in charge, and Geralt is...none of those things. It's not bad, just very, very different.

Instead of the rough treatment Jaskier was expecting, Geralt's holding frighteningly still, hips twitching gently in response to Jaskier's ministrations. He's breathing harshly as if fresh from a fight, head rolling on the pillow, silver hair fanned out beneath him. He's not passive, but he's certainly receptive. He's the most beautiful thing Jaskier's ever seen.

One handed and with only a little difficulty, Jaskier uncorks the vial of oil and douses his fingers liberally before replacing the little stopper and dropping it by his own hip for later. Above him, Geralt's eyes have fallen shut, expression twisted with pleasure. He's making quiet little noises as Jaskier sinks as low as he can on Geralt's generously endowed dick before pulling back to suck and lave at the head, free hand wrapped around the base.

Carefully, Jaskier traces wet fingers back to Geralt's hole and presses, gentle and teasing. Geralt's eyelids flutter and he shifts backward, encouraging Jaskier to press harder, press in. Instead, he keeps the touch gentle but persistent, rubs back and forth to tease at the rim with slick fingertips.

"Jaskier," Geralt says, breathless. Jaskier hasn't taken his eyes off his face so he gets to watch as Geralt struggles to keep his eyes open, struggles to meet his gaze, "Jaskier, please."

He takes pity, if only because Geralt is beautiful and Jaskier is impatient. He presses a single fingertip in as he swallows him down again, closes his eyes so he can focus on the sound Geralt makes at that, something wounded and painful. It's almost enough to have Jaskier withdrawing, just to check in, but Geralt's already rocking enthusiastically back on that finger.

Jaskier runs his tongue along the vein when he's in all the way to the last knuckle, lets Geralt rock gently between the slight intrusion and the suction of his mouth before he starts to press the tip of a second finger in.

"Fuck," Geralt groans, back arching, "fuck, Jaskier, yes." Jaskier moans at the praise, makes sure he's got his lips pressed as far down his shaft as he can manage when he does. Geralt's hands, still balled into fists in the sheets at either side of his hips, clench and unclench as Jaskier works him over, works him open.

Geralt takes two fingers beautifully and enthusiastically, even when Jaskier's jaw begins to ache and he has to pull off, give himself a rest.

"Fuck, you're beautiful. Look how good you take it. You want my cock, love?"

Geralt whines, thrusting back onto Jaskier's fingers with a little more force. "Yeah, yes, please, Jaskier."

Jaskier doesn't answer, just presses in, searching for--

Geralt jerks, throws a fist up to shove in his mouth to muffle the sounds. Jaskier leans up, gently pulls the fist away. "Darling, let me hear you," he murmurs, rubbing deliberately against that spot again. Geralt keens. "Gods, you sound so pretty. Can't wait to be inside you. Feel good, sweetheart?"

Geralt nods frantically, arching his back to give Jaskier better access without shifting back down his body. He nudges the tip of a third finger in as reward, watches the way Geralt tenses before going lax again, every muscle trembling.

"Fuck, you're so good at this," Jaskier praises, presses his lips to the underside of Geralt's jaw. Geralt turns his face, chasing his lips and Jaskier indulges him in a slow, filthy kiss full of tongue and teeth. He feels drunk on this, could do this happily for the rest of his life. But--

"Jaskier, 'm ready. Please," Geralt gasps into the kiss when Jaskier's able to fuck him on three fingers easily. Jaskier presses in one last time to rub against his prostate, watches with hungry eyes as Geralt shakes and whines, arches both into the touch and away all at once. "Don't tease," he hisses, one hand locked around Jaskier's shoulder, blunt fingers digging deep into the tissue. He fervently hopes there will be bruises in the morning.

"Okay sweetheart," he grins, pulls his fingers out slowly so he can listen to the way Geralt's breath still hitches, listen to the broken little noise he makes when Jaskier leaves him empty. "Shh darling, just a minute," he soothes, as he shuffles out of his own trousers and smallclothes, snatching the little vial back up and popping the cap again to slick himself with a few quick, efficient strokes before capping it again. He drops it, doesn't care where it ends up (he'll find it in the morning). Geralt watches him intently, one hand wrapped around his cock and pumping slow and even. "How do you want this, love?"

"Just like this," he groans, spreading his legs a little wider as he pulls Jaskier back down to press their mouths together. His hands find their way to Jaskier's shoulders, loop around his neck. Jaskier adjusts their position, settles Geralt's thighs a little higher on his hips. Blindly he presses the blunt head of his cock to Geralt's entrance, watches the way Geralt's eyelids flutter, pupils blown so wide the gold is nothing but a ghost of a ring around pools of inky black.

"Breathe for me, Geralt," Jaskier whispers before he presses forward and in, and it's all he can do to keep his own breathing even, keep his hips from snapping forward too quickly. Geralt sighs, long and low and satisfied, head thrown back and throat exposed. Jaskier worries marks into that beautiful throat as he presses forward, bottoms out, presses lips and teeth and tongue against pale skin, marveling in the way it colors under his attention.

"Jask," Geralt groans, "move," and that's all the encouragement he needs to start rocking into him, gentle and slow. It's a tease, no more than a little friction and it's not enough for either of them, but fuck if it isn't nice. To be this close, this trusted by someone he cares about more than he's comfortable admitting out loud. It shouldn't, but gods this feels like so much more than sex.

"How's it feel, darling?" Jaskier asks, presses their foreheads together so there's nowhere else to look but at each other. Geralt's breathing raggedly, eyes fixed on Jaskier's. His throat works for a long moment and Jaskier thinks he probably won't be getting a response. It's fine. Geralt doesn't do words, really and it's obvious he's enjoying this, it's fine.

"'S good," he mumbles, color dusting his cheeks, "you're so good, Jask." It leaves him on a sigh as he arches his back a little, forces Jaskier just that little bit deeper. It leaves them both panting.

Jaskier tucks his face into Geralt's throat and sets a slow, languid pace as he trails fingertips down his chest, his sides, his arms to trace the puckered scars he doesn't ask about with a reverence that feels divine. Geralt whines, tips his head to hide his face in Jaskier's hair. This is love, honest and bold-faced and it leaves Jaskier shaking with how much he wants this to mean as much for Geralt as it does for him.

"Good," he breathes against Geralt's skin, "wanna be good for you, love. You deserve it so much." He should shut up. He's going to say something he'll regret, something that will make Geralt uncomfortable--

"Jaskier," he sounds wrecked, "fuck, Jask, I don't--"

He snaps his hips hard on the next thrust, listens to Geralt's objections die with a gasp. "You do, you daft idiot," he groans. He picks up his pace after that, focuses on making him feel good so maybe he can keep his traitorous mouth closed. He presses his mouth to Geralt's collarbone and worries it with lips and teeth, feels fingers slip into his hair, carding gently.

There's no talking for a while after that, just quiet breaths, little moans and sighs of pleasure as Jaskier keeps pace, fucks him hard and deep in long, practiced thrusts. He's aware of the fingers in his hair holding his mouth to Geralt's skin, the swell of arousal in his own gut, building, the quiet way Geralt keeps breathing in, like he has something he wants to say but can't quite manage it. It's so, so much. Jaskier feels overwhelmed, completely full of this bursting love he's afraid will show on his face, in his voice. He doesn't want to ruin this, especially if he never gets this again.

When Geralt does speak, it's gravelly and low and a little awkward, "sweetheart," he mumbles, the word foreign in his mouth. He presses his lips to Jaskier's temple, his forehead, cards his fingers back through his hair again. Jaskier shakes, hips stuttering as he loses his rhythm. "Sweetheart," he repeats, a little louder. He's tugging gently at the fine hairs at the nape of Jaskier's neck, encouraging Jaskier to lean back, to look at him and Jaskier is powerless in the face of Geralt's want. He goes.

Beneath him, Geralt's face is soft and open and so full of gentle concern it hurts to look at. "Jaskier, sweetheart," Geralt repeats, strong and sure this time. He brings a hand up to cup his cheek, brushes a thumb under Jaskier's eye, and only then does he realize he's been crying. "What's wrong, Jask?"

He sucks in a hitching breath, closes his eyes. He stills with a great effort, bites back the whine that builds in his throat in response. "I'm just--" I'm just so happy, I want it to be good, I want you to want me, again and again and again, this won't be enough, "--I'm just--"

"Too much?" Geralt asks, thumb still sweeping tears away.

"No," Jaskier mumbles, catches Geralt's hand so he can press a kiss to his palm, "happy tears, love."

Geralt just hums in response, lets his palm be kissed. He doesn't object when Jaskier starts to move again or when he links their hands together and presses them into the pillow beside Geralt's head, but he doesn't let Jaskier hide away again. "Look at me, Jask," he rumbles when Jaskier moves to press his face to Geralt's throat again. "I want to see you."

"Fuck, Geralt, you can't just say that," he groans, presses their foreheads together instead. He keeps his eyes closed so he doesn't have to stare into Geralt's eyes. He's as terrified of seeing his own feelings reflected there as he is of not.

He gives a little huff Jaskier might call a laugh if he was being generous, tilts his head so his lips brush against Jaskier's. "Mm, better kiss me quiet then," Geralt hums, "or I might have to tell you how much I've wanted this for months." Jaskier's hips stutter again.

"Fuck Geralt, what the fuck," he gasps out, and Geralt groans as Jaskier's pace goes choppy and hard as he does exactly as Geralt asked, kissing him with teeth and tongue, sloppy and frantic.

"Been trying to tell you for a while," Geralt rumbles into the kiss, twisting their joined hands around so he can rub the ring Jaskier's still wearing very, very gently. Jaskier sucks in a sharp breath. "Yeah," Geralt groans, "yeah."

"Stupid, noble, idiot," Jaskier pants out between thrusts, "have you been trying to woo me into bed?"

The shy little grin Geralt gives at that is telling.

"Geralt!" It's something between a laugh and groan. He wraps his free hand around Geralt's dick, jerks him in time with his thrusts. He's getting close.

"Thought you'd catch on," Geralt gaps, back arching when Jaskier hits the right angle again, "fuck, Jaskier, do that again." He endeavors to obey, starts twisting his wrist at the top of every stroke as well.

He wishes he had something witty to say in response to that, but he doesn't. He'd assumed Geralt had just been doing what was necessary to protect Jaskier. He'd never thought--"So about my antics does it for you then, darling? Is it the danger? I bet it's the danger."

Geralt does laugh at that, a quiet chuckle that bites off into a moan. "'s just you," he gasps, "all of you, Jask." And oh the things that does to him.

"Fuck, I'm close."

"Yeah," Geralt sighs, "come in me, sweetheart," and that's all it takes.

Jaskier's orgasm isn't the earthshattering thing he thinks it probably should be, considering. Instead, it crests warm and bright like an ocean wave, sweeps him under gently and returns to lap at him, over and over again. He presses his forehead into Geralt's shoulder and shakes his way through it, hips twitching. Geralt's free hand, not the one still wrapped around his own, smooths down his spine, pets at the small of his back until he can breathe easy again.

"Fuck darling," Jaskier sighs. He feels fucking exhausted, but, "let me finish you off, sweetling." He resumes his previous stroking with renewed purpose and doesn't pull out, even though the way Geralt's clenching down on him is quickly edging into "too much" territory. Instead, he grinds in a little bit, focuses on hitting his prostate with each shift and watches the way his face contorts and his breathing picks up.

"Jask--Jaskier, I--" he's breathing hard and the hand he's still holding is squeezing tighter.

"Shh, it's alright love. Come on, come for me."

"Fuck, Jaskier," Geralt whines. He clenches down hard, making Jaskier hiss, and then he's coming in long stripes over his own stomach and Jaskier's knuckles. "Fuck."

Jaskier hums in response, pulling out to collapse gracelessly beside him. The silence that ensues is remarkably comfortable and Jaskier's nearly dozed off when Geralt shifts and sits up. He tamps down on the twinge of disappointment that shifts under his breastbone--just because Geralt's been angling to get him into bed doesn't mean anything other than this. It's...fine. It's all fine.

Jaskier hears the water pitcher slosh and listens with a quiet detachment to the sounds of Geralt cleaning himself off. He's trying not to let the silence get to him, now that he's thinking about it. Geralt's a quiet guy, he reminds himself. He doesn't have to psychoanalyze the silence. It probably means nothing.

"Can hear you thinking from across the room," Geralt says, appearing at Jaskier's hip. He cleans him off quick and thorough before bending to press a gentle kiss to Jaskier's lips that sends his entire thought process to a clattering halt. "And you should stop thinking whatever it is that's making you smell like dying flowers."

"What?" He's never heard that one before.

"The--" Geralt walks back across the room to discard the cloth on the table, "--the dead flower smell. Whatever's making you sad." He pulls a face as he says it.

"Didn't know dead flowers had a smell," Jaskier mumbles; he knows Geralt can hear him anyway.

"They smell like--" he trails off, sighs. "It's sickly sweet. Like rot but...floral. It's unpleasant."

Jaskier makes a tiny noise of acknowledgment and jerks in surprise a moment later when Geralt slides back into bed behind him and tucks him up against Jaskier's back, arm around his waist.

"I said stop thinking about it," he murmurs, pressing his lips to the curve of Jaskier's shoulder. Then a beat later-- "is this...not what you wanted?"

"What?" Jaskier scrambles to roll over, to see Geralt's face. Geralt lets him, reluctantly. "Why would I--? Is this not what you wanted?" He asks instead, hiding behind another question. Geralt's expression pinches.

"I told you I wanted this."

Oh.

"Fuck, I'm an idiot," Jaskier groans, presses his face to Geralt's chest.

"We've established that, yes," Geralt agrees, weathering the look of irritation Jaskier shoots him at that, grinning softly.

"I thought--I thought you wanted the, the sex. And not--" not this.

"You are an idiot," he sighs, long-suffering, and presses a kiss to Jaskier's forehead.

"Should have maybe figured that one out when you called me sweetheart, huh?" He grins, just a little shy, but it's worth it to watch the way Geralt colors immediately and pulls him in close so he doesn't have to look him in the eye.

"Hm." Jaskier laughs.

They settle back into a comfortable silence that leaves Jaskier pressed snugly to Geralt's chest, face tucked into his neck while he spins his little ring absently around his finger.

"Don't give me any more reason to hide you from angry family or guards anymore, Jaskier," Geralt mumbles into his hair, "You want something, I'll take care of you."

Jaskier flushes warm, presses his lips helplessly to Geralt's chest, right over his heart. "Of course, darling," he breathes, trying not to choke on the feeling that wells up in him at those words. This, he thinks, is a much better arrangement anyway.

#witcher #witcher fic #geraskier #lizard writes #this one gave me SO MUCH TROUBLE but I really do love it

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the-author-dragon · 3 years

Text

So I wrote this because I hate Childe with a passion and was cursed with the idea. Childe and (Y/N) have been sworn enemies and rivals for ages, but very recently they seem to have developed feelings for each other. Thinking that the other still hated them, they said nothing. Today, Childe saved (Y/N) from a monster she was fighting, namely a Lawachurl that had stunned her and was about to cause her great harm, namely dying. Enjoy the rest, you absolute simps. (Also please be warned I am not used to writing kiss scenes, also this may be a touch spicy. Not too spicy but like a Karen trying to be unique in her cooking by putting doritos in her casserole spicy)

"So what is it? Why are you so obsessed with me all of a sudden?" (Y/N) was thoroughly angry at this point. "Why do you care so much if I get hurt or not?"

"Maybe I have feelings for you!" Childe spat. "Maybe I can't stand the idea that you, who decided to help me and stay with me even though you hated me, would get hurt."

(Y/N) pursed her lips. "Of course. Of course you had to like me," (Y/N) grumbled. "Now I don't have an excuse to not do anything."

"Pardon?"

"Fine, I've wanted to do this for awhile." She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him into a rough kiss. Childe hummed in surprise and very directly after, hummed with smug pleasure at the feeling of her lips on his. His hands were soon on her hips, gently stroking her skin under her shirt. He leaned into the kiss before (Y/N) broke away just to breathe.

"That's hot," Childe murmured with a quiet chuckle before leaning back into her lips. (Y/N) snorted in laughter, wrapping her arms around his neck. Childe bit her bottom lip, startling (Y/N), who broke the kiss just to look at him in mild annoyance and disappointment. Childe grinned in amusement, his eyes half-closed. "That got to you, hm?"

"I will fight you."

"I'll invite you to try," he teased, leaning in and hovering his nose just next to hers. (Y/N) leaned over sharply, kissing the side of his neck a little below his jaw. "Eep!" He groaned a bit at the unexpected sensation, forgetting his bravado if only for a bit. Butterflies aggressively fluttered in his stomach and (Y/N) continued where she was, nipping a little at his skin and kissing where she had just then. "You're mean," he said, voice a little strained. His heart felt weak, and the fireworks starting to go off in his chest weren't helping.

"I know," she laughed before lowering his kisses closer to his collarbone.

"Ack, okay, I'm sorry!" His face was flushed and he was sure he might faint.

"Oh?" (Y/N) smirked, moving her hands to his chest and pushing him over. Childe stumbled, tripped, and landed on the couch.

Annoyance was a fresh emotion present in Childe's eyes. "Ow! What the-"

"Are you really?" (Y/N) was sitting in his lap, her legs stretched out over the rest of the couch. Her arms were hanging over his shoulders.

"Um," Childe started, not sure how to react. His face was burning like a pyro vision's fire and his heart was beating like a jackrabbit racing across an open field, wild and fast. "No, not really." He moved at the first impulse, cupping her face and leaning into a soft kiss that tasted vaguely like the chicken she'd eaten for dinner. The movement was deceptively gentle, and (Y/N) almost forgot he could kill a man given the chance. (Y/N) grinned against his lips, fiddling with the baby hairs at the base of his scalp. She ran her hand through his hair, her fingers catching on an unbrushed tangle.

(Y/N) wasn't really sure why out of everyone in the seven nations that she had picked to have feelings for her sworn enemy, but here she was, receiving kisses everywhere from his gentle, deceptive kiss on the lips to loose, sharp, and mean ones trailing all along her jaw. She was almost a little disappointed in herself, but hot dang could he kiss.

"I thought you hated me." His hands had been wandering and his arms finally settled in the form of wrapping behind her back to pull her closer.

"I do. Not really."

"How unfortunate," he chuckled, moving his place kissing her jaw to her neck, making her yelp in surprise.

"Rude," (Y/N) muttered.

"Aw my love, I'm just returning the favor. Since you did this yourself just earlier." (Y/N) couldn't see his face, but she could practically hear his smug smirk.

"Still rude." She winced at a sharp shock of pain at a small bite. "Ow!"

Childe laughed, in the way he did when he'd fought the traveler. "Sorry, sorry." (Y/N) interrupted the kisses to her neck with a kiss to his nose, confusing him. (Y/N) laughed at his confused face and leaned her forehead against his, smiling contentedly. "I suppose it'll be a little more quiet around Tevat if we're not arguing all the time over little things like artifacts I swipe from you all the time."

"No, I still want those back."

"But they're cool," Childe complained.

#childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia #childe #genshin impact #I'm not proud of this in the slightest

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hankwritten · 3 years

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Hofstadter’s Law

Demoman/Soldier, 2k

Request for MinnesotaMedic821, Drunk

“You sure this best way in, Jane?” Demo muttered quietly as he gazed up at the looming concrete spires of BLU base.

“I am very sure!” Soldier said, not quietly at all. Practically yelling actually. Right in Demo’s ear too, what with his arm slung around the RED’s shoulders as the only thing keeping him upright.

“Shhh!” Demo hushed him. “You want me to go half-deaf as well as half-blind? ‘Sides, the last thing we need right now is the other BLUs hearing us.”

Soldier’s head, lolling like a pad of butter sliding around a hot pan, took a long and winding trip from one side to the other. “…Why?”

“…Because I’m a RED in the middle of a nest o’ BLU corn snakes?” Demo raised a brow. “Ach, you really did have a number done, didn’t you? Remind me not to let you near the Everclear again.”

“Okay! I will definitely remind you!”

Demo eyed him dubiously. “Remind me what, Jane?”

The grey shell of the helmet stared at him for several seconds. “…What?”

“Let’s just get you in, aye? We can do all sorts of filling in each other’s memories when your toesies are tucked safe under your covers.”

But in order get the Soldier safely in bed, they’d need to first traverse the minefield of potential termination that was the center of BLU operations. No problem at all really. It was late—even if some of the mercs had hit the town like Demo and Soldier had, they’d certainly be back by now, fast asleep, no chance at all of waking up and discovering a very difficult to explain situation in the form of an enemy merc carrying around their Soldier. As long as they were quiet, they’d be perfectly safe.

Demo guided Soldier towards the back doors, at which point they promptly ran into the enemy Demoman.

The BLU, spread out on a fabric lawn chair surrounded by dust, desert, and least a half-dozen bottles, blinked wide-eyed at the pair who’d just come around with the low-speed but high-inertia gait of a drunk couple. He shook his head slightly, as though to dispel the ‘ole three am fog and ascertain that yes, that truly was his teammate being helped along by the RED demolition’s man. Demo, for his part, froze like he’d been staked to the ground.

Soldier, as heavy things are want to do, kept going at his expected velocity. It nearly took them both over—Demo had to abandon the arm under his shoulders, lunging to haul Soldier up the waist and folding him in half like a Panini.

“Well,” the BLU in the lawn chair said, “you two look like you had fun.”

His face was a mish-mash of raised brow and, perplexingly enough, a smirk at the corner of his mouth as he bore witness to the two truants. Most shockingly of all, there wasn’t a trace of surprise on his face now, just those shades of smug amusement you put on when watching a particularly entertaining drunkard. The fact that Demo was used to having that expression leveled at him was neither here nor there.

“Er…” he said eloquently.

The flash of dread that’d shot through him when he’d caught sight of the BLU was the worse case scenario of course: reported on, fired, dead in a gravel pit somewhere, all rendered in gory detail by his mind’s eye. (His overactive imagination a bloody menace sometimes.) But as the BLU continued to sit there, not sounding the alarm, not even looking particularly worried, Demo’s fear for his own neck slowly morphed into confusion.

“I was just er-”

“Oh, hello Demoman!” Soldier chimed in. “We have been out. Drinking alcohol!”

“I’ve heard that’s a fun pastime,” his teammate commented mildly.

“Don’t tell him that,” Demo complained, hauling Soldier to an upright position. “Jesus, this er, isn’t what it looks like, honestly.”

“Sure it isn’t,” the BLU said, wearing what could now be identified unmistakably as a smirk. He gestured with his bottle. “Back entrance ‘s that-a-way.”

A little ball of defensiveness, not matter how unjustified, rolled around in Demo’s gut to the point he wanted to stop and give the other Demoman a piece of his mind. Which would probably involve lying. And then consequences to lying since Soldier had already given away this wasn’t a one time thing. He shut his gob and took the out.

Until the hum of the BLU’s resumed tune was far behind them, until the curving architecture of the base would keep them from being overheard, he didn’t dare start asking questions. Only when he was sure that the corner they’d rounded was at a significant distance away did he accusatorily hiss, “what was that about?”

“Hm?” Soldier asked pleasantly. He fixed a dopey smile on his friend, a second ago which had been the responsibility of a beetle crawling a tuft of bullheadidly tenacious grass.

“Your Demo, why’d you tell him where we were? And why didn’t he flip out?”

“You’re my Demo,” Soldier hummed unhelpfully.

“Ach,” Demo said, realizing he’d get nowhere with the security lights and a whole herd of horseflies bearing down on them. “Fine, lets get you inside first. But I’ve still got some bloody questions.”

They’d arrived at the unassuming little door cut into the base’s thick concrete, welded metal gushing haphazardly from its size as though its very addition had been an afterthought. Demo motioned at Soldier.

“Pass me your keycard, lad.”

“M’what?”

“Keycard.” Demo’s heart sank. “You keep it in your wallet or something, right?”

Soldier stared at the card reader. He stared at long and hard, so long and hard that Demo was starting to wonder if the question had made it through his ear canals at all when he concluded, “I forgot it.”

“You for- Oh for the love of Pete.” Demo took the hand that wasn’t supporting his mate and rubbed it long suffering across his face. “Well that’s great. Bloody great, risk my arse hauling a drunken fart back to his base cause he can’t hold his bloody liquor, and we can’t even get in to the fecking-”

The door hissed, layers of dust shaking loose like with a sci-fi swish as the vacuum seal was opened to the desert night. Demo gawked, watching it shake away grit like it was built into the surface of Mars instead of a dead-end town in the middle of New Mexico, and letting out a wash of air-conditioned oxygen.

When it was partially ajar, it unveiled the BLU Sniper, arms folded and leaning on the inner wall.

“How…what?” Demo asked. Soldier was too busy looking at the beetle again to be perplexed.

“Heard you guys arguing from the roof.” Sniper jerked his thumb upwards. “If you were sneaking ‘round, might want to think about keeping your voice down in the future. Probably could’ve heard you all the way at RED.”

“I wasn’t- We weren’t-”

Sniper waited. When no adequate explanation was forthcoming he said, “you comin’? Cold air’s getting out.”

Demo grimaced, and began the arduous processes of lugging the Soldier inside.

Chill ran up where his t-shirt had sweated to his neck, Soldier fairing no better since they’d spent the past half hour (every moment since Demo had realized Soldier would be going nowhere on his own) with their sides pressed together. He hadn’t realized how exhausted he was until the cold ai) brought the slightest suggestion of relief to his (admittedly also not terribly sober) body.

“If this is going to be a running thing for you two, maybe don’t get so munted next time, yeah?” Sniper offered. It was neither reprimanding nor conversational, like this was a totally normal exchange happening here with a RED in a BLU hallway.

“Who said anything about a ‘running thing’?” Demo demanded. “You didn’t overhear that!”

Sniper raised a brow. “Soldier said you were his new best mate. I assumed that meant you’d both be out and about more than once.”

Demo grit his teeth, the pieces clicking into place. “Did he now.” He leveled his best attempt at a glare from his blindspot at the disoriented Soldier who, unsurprisingly, was more interested in resting his head on Demo’s shoulder than being reprimanded. “Well that’s good to know. Any chance you can point me to his room?”

Sniper took one gloved hand and shoved a thumb over his shoulder.

“Thanks. Cheers.”

“Goodbye Sniper,” Soldier said belatedly, a good three minutes after he’d disappeared around a corner. “Oh hey! My room!”

“Jane, is there anyone you didn’t tell about us?” Demo demanded.

Soldier thought for a moment. “…I didn’t tell any REDs.”

“Jane,” Demo groaned. “This is supposed to be a secret. What if one of them tells the Administrator? You want that? Going to be hard ever meeting up again if we’re both six feet under.”

For the first time, a bit of shame managed to reach the Soldier through the woolen mesh of his inebriated state, and he looked at his shoes. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I just got really excited. Wanted everyone to know I was hanging out with you.”

Demo sighed heavily, not up bullying his friend when he was in such a pathetic sate already. “I know you were. Ach, it’s fine. We’ll talk ‘bout it later.”

Later being sometime after he’d managed to deposit Soldier onto a four-poster, though with the way the night was going it seemed like that moment would never arrive. His outlook wasn’t improved when he opened the door of Soldier’s room and found that not only was it Soldier’s room, but the occupancy of the entire Offense division.

“Whzzat?” Scout said, rolling to his elbow just in time to be bombarded by the hall light. “Ahg, dammit Sol. What the hell man?”

Demo didn’t bother freezing this time, successfully desensitized to literally every BLU on the planet stumbling across his ill-advised trip through the enemy base. Instead, he walked over, dropped Soldier on the bed, and began helping him unlace his boots.

“What the-?” Scout said when he finally lowered his arm. “Oh right. You. Jesus, how ‘bout a little consideration for the sleeping guy?”

“Mmrrhaunna,” came from the bundle in the corner.

“Yeah, what they said.”

“You don’t got the right to be begging consideration from anyone, jackrabbit,” Demo said hotly as he frees the military-grade combat boots from Soldier’s feet. He threw a blanket over the man’s form, who sighed appreciatively and said something about how this would earn Demo a medal. “‘Sides, don’t need to worry about me no more. I just came to drop of your sergeant and get out of here.”

To prove it, he backed out of the room with hands raised. Mission complete. Time to get out of here and bring this mortifying night to an end.

He might have gotten away with it too, if Pyro hadn’t shot straight up and pointed an accusing finger at him. “Mrrhaha! Hudda hah ha hoo.”

Demo reared back slightly from the Pyro who was still very much in their rubber suit, now with added nightcap. Whatever the hell they were saying, they were very impassioned about it. He looked to the Scout for help.

“They want you to tuck them in too,” he said, and the light flooding in from the single open door was good enough to see that he was smirking as he did so.

“Wha- I’m not bloody tucking anyone in,” Demo said hotly.

“Hudda ha. Mrra haa hur ha.”

“You tucked Soldier in,” Scout translated. “Only fair.”

“Gurrhaha.”

“…Otherwise they’ll tattle.”

“I cannae bloody believe this,” Demo groaned, rubbing his face.

Grudgingly, he made his way over the giggling pyrotechnician, absolutely giddy to have gotten their way. Thankfully boots weren’t part of the pajama equation, and Demo had only to tuck in the blanket’s edges ‘round a pair of socked feet and a squirming, suit-clad body. When he tried to leave it at that, a keening noise stopped him, and he was forced to repeat the process for Mayor Balloonicorn. All the while, he could feel the Scout staring smugly at the back of his head.

“D’awww, ain’t that adorable. Going to be hard to be scared of you now, though. Y’know, after you swung by to give us goodnight kisses and all that crap.”

“Just for that, I’m going to have a sticky trap with your name on it, boyo,” Demo pointed an accusing finger in Scout’s direction. He just shrugged.

“But uh,” Scout added, just as Demo was finally about to make his escape. “Glad you turned out to be cool though. He was really gung ho about tonight. Its nice he has good friends besides us.”

Demo cast his gaze to Soldier, who’d fallen fitfully in the short while it’d taken to get Pyro off his back.

“…That’s good. It was a fun time.”

“Oh yeah?” Scout wiggled his eyebrows. “How fun?”

Demo took one of the pillows he’d used to burry Pyro in and flung it at Scout’s face.

“Sticky trap. Your name.”

He could still hear Scout snickering all the way out into the hall.

#demosolly #tf2 fanfiction

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