#I’ve been reading it out loud for my partner and doing all the voices and it’s so much fun | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sunaluv · 1 year

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I love the "Come get your man" series could you make a pt4????[you do not have to]

I love your work sm!!!keep doing what your doing!!!

Drink water, take breaks when needed, take care of your health both mentally & physically!!and see you next ask♡

wooo we back at it again! thanks for checking in on me bae 🥲 take care of yourselves too!

also thanks for 1k followers 🥳

part 3

feat. kenma, tsukishima, iwaizumi

steamer!KENMA

kenma loves his job. as a professional streamer he’s his own boss, he doesn’t have to be around people too often and he’s become really fond of his little online community (not that he’d admit that out loud).

it’s been a week since your unplanned debut on his channel. you didn’t realize he was recording when you came to drop of his snacks, doing your daily check in. ever since, all the tags with his stream name were aggressively loving, basically demanding him to bring back their ‘mother’ to the screen.

you drop in every now and then to remind his viewers to look after themselves, jokingly scolding them for not looking after your man aswell but it’s all fun and games on both ends.

whilst watching his stream in the room next door, you can help but notice a user in particular.

@/kodzubae: LMAOOO i thought he would be dating someone much prettier😭 didn’t know kodzu did charity cases.

even though the chat was moving before you could read all the comments, your eyes always managed to find whatever the user said about you, and none of it was nice. you didn’t have to be told not to read the comments— it’s an unspoken fact but your eyes and brain always seem to betray you, feeding into your minor insecurities.

you haven’t even realized you were staring at a blank screen. kenmas’ stream had ended whilst you were too lost in your thoughts.

“…you alright?” he asked hesitantly.

though your eyes lit up and your lips quirked at the sight of your boyfriend, he knew something was up— call it a sixth sense of his.

you wordlessly tried to convince him that you were okay, talking and joking the rest of the night until you fell asleep in his embrace but none of it felt genuine. he didn’t want to pry, but it physically hurt him to see you hiding things from him.

totally disregarding the first rules of boyfriend 101: “don’t go through your partners phone!”, kenma unlocked your phone, instantly frowning at the screen before him.

it was her twitter page. kenma knew his lifelong fans, and the handle on your screen now was one of them, except it was full of fan behavior for him and blatant hatred for you.

he felt bad.

it wasn’t exactly his fault, but he still felt responsible for the digs at you that were happening on his live.

the next day, you had woken up hours after kenma. you tend to do that when you sleep with a heavy heart.

in the distance, you could hear him talking, probably streaming. so you opened his stream on your phone and tuned in right on time.

“hey guys,” he greeted. “before we start i want to say something…i’ve become aware that ever since ‘mother’,” he emphasized on the quote marks. “made her first appearance, some of you have not been the nicest to her online and i just want to say that that’s a boundary that absolutely cannot be crossed.”

@/user1: WHAT? WHO HURT MOTHER

@/user2: i hope she’s okay :( luv u mom

@/user3: we’re just going to skip over the fact that he acknowledges them as our parents? okay…

@/user4: cross ken >:( cross ken >:(

“so from here on out, any hate towards her will be an instant block. i’ve told my mods too so behave…” he firmly, yet gently scolded.

“now that’s out of the way, today we’ll be…”

you watched the rest of the stream with a smile on your face. though you were working on voicing your concerns and discomfort, it was nice to know that kenma is willing to work for you whilst he waited.

TSUKISHIMA (tall!reader)

“you look so much taller when you’re not welded into tsukkis’ side, ya know?”

startled, you angled your neck down to see one of your classmates.

you had been avoiding her, and she, you. but it seems she’s finally willing to break this ongoing silent tension fest between you two.

“what do you want.” you deadpanned.

she gasped. “you’re too mean! tsukishima doesn’t deserve to be with someone like you, he deserves someone who is more down to earth, you get me?”

she eyed you up and down to emphasize her point.

taking your silence as willingness to listen, she continued. “i mean your too tall! granted he is too but opposites attract, he needs someone who will look good with him, like me.”

you folded your lips inward to contain your laughter. you and basically everyone knew about this girls love for your boyfriend, but you never pegged her as the type to come at you like this.

“you can have him if you want,” you waved. “kei looooves short girls.”

her eyes lit up in victory, obviously not sensing your sarcasm. “cool, just make sure you break up with him today because-“

“nobody is breaking up with anyone.” a voice shot.

low and behold, your six foot something boyfriend shutting down any advances you were planning to set him up with. though he joined the conversation, he only appeared to be addressing you.

“kei! i-“

“tsukishima.”

“tsukki! i-”

“no.”

he made eye contact with your smirking face over the girls head. “you were just gonna throw me to the wolves like that?” he asked offended.

you chucked. “there’s no wolves kei, look at her” you pinched the cheek of the stunned girl stood in between you two. “she’s harmless, like a poodle.”

she stood, mouth open seemingly in shock.

looking back at him, his face did not let up. you sighed.

“i’m sorry kei,” you breathed through your nose. “i will never subject you to such a horrible, earth shattering, torturous-“

“that’s enough, my god” he groaned. grabbing your wrist, he dragged you by the wrist, only slowing down when you rounded the corner, out of the girls view.

“you know i was joking, right.” you poked his cheek, to which he swatted your hand away.

“i know you’re joking,” his signature smirk appeared. “after all you wouldn’t throw away the opportunity to date the guy you’ve been crushing on for as long as you’ve been here. if i recall, your confession went along the lines of ‘i-“

you slapped your hand over his mouth in embarrassment. leave it to the guy to turn your confession into a weapon against you.

you playfully bickered down the rest of the hall, forgetting all about the girl who had tried to take your place earlier.

IWAIZUMI

“are you sure you’re not only using him to like, get to oikawa or something?”

the first words this girl had spoken to you. you don’t know who she is, or where she came from but she has some nerve coming with such a ridiculous question considering you haven’t formally met before.

“excuse me?”

“you heard me,” her tone was now accusatory. “i’ve seen many girls do iwa dirty because they want oikawa so if that’s the case save yourself an ass beating and leave him alone!”

you don’t know if you have bad memory or what because you don’t know who this girl is and as far as your concerned, neither does your boyfriend.

“i’m sorry, are you a friend of his?” you were more confused than anything.

“i am his and he is mine.”

woah.

you didn’t want to accuse her, but every sign she was showing pointed to a major case of FDS (fan delusion syndrome), a case of the crazies found in fans of the oikawa toru founded by you, maki and mattsun, but you were unaware that this case was also present in your boyfriends own… supporters.

you don’t blame them though because your man is a total hunkkkk. anyways.

right on queue, the door slid open and both of your heads turned to meet hajime’s, and of course he has to show up with a sweaty face, shirt practically clinging to his defined body.

“hajime!” the girl called, running and stopping infront of him. “she’s using you do get to oikawa, break up with her!”

he followed the finger that was pointed to you— confused and lost in the middle of the gym.

“that’s my girlfriend, she doesn’t like him like that.”

the sound of a shattered heart pierced the sudden silence. “w-w-what do you mean girlfriend, she’s after toru i’m sure of it!”

a humorless chuckle sounded from his throat. “trust me, she doesn’t ”

being cautious not to set the girl off, he traversed around her, and straight to you who watched the whole interaction both concerned and amused.

“wowww,” you breathed. “i didn’t know you were also a cause for FDS.”

“what?”

“nothing,” you straightened. “i don’t blame her though. i would go crazy if you walked around looking like that too.”

his face flushed and he turned away. “stop saying things like that…”

you smiled, poking his cheek. “what, i can’t appreciate my boyfriend who’s built like he was carved from the greek gods himself?”

he walked away after pushing your face with his hand, drowning your chuckle.

“c’mon haji, don’t be like that,” you chased after him. “you have to be feeling yourself a little after seeing the affect you have of the seijoh population!”

the girl watched as you made her ‘man’ flush, comment after comment, feeling numb as she watched him get more and more out of his reach.

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itsabouttimex2 · 3 months

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Platonic yandere shadowpeach x teenager daughter dating redson

(First ship I’ve explicitly been asked to write for. Not too surprised that it was Shadowpeach! I’ve written for Wukong and Macaque’s reaction to dating Red Son here!)

(Also, I’ve got a questionnaire if anyone would like to help me with my blog)

Platonic Yandere Shadowpeach

Sun Wukong and Macaque should; in theory, balance each other out. One is bright and forthcoming, the other is secluded and scheming. One is a glittering ray of sunshine that everyone looks towards for safety and salvation, the other a beam of moonlight slinking about unseen in the shadows.

They should get along. They’ve both got a penchant for the dramatic, and take interest in different arts- one in drawing, one in performing. The two are both fond of food and wildlife.

They should be capable of getting along.

But they don’t. Or maybe they can’t.

They’re both too arrogant, too worn, too hurt to be something healthy or happy or wholesome. Why they’ve rushed into this relationship before either had begun to heal and forgive and truly make amends is anyone’s guess, but there’s one thing you know for certain-

You’re the glue holding this ramshackle family together.

A joke long ago led to your birth, two offerings of blood thrown blasphemously into a sacred vase of jade. Wukong had laughed and pitched down a measure of fresh blood from his chest, then Macaque frowned and followed along, dropping a handful of dried flakes gathered from a wrapped wound on his head.

Neither had bothered to read beyond a scant few characters carved on the vase, speaking of ‘rituals’ and ‘blood’ and ‘growing’- and both stopped short when their eyes fell upon ‘Guanyin’, goddess of mercy and compassion.

Immediately, Wukong had started an exuberant and loud routine of sacrilege, prodding the vase and shaking it, mockingly yelling into it and pretending to be a mortal pleading futilely for help from the heavens- right before he decided to take his disrespect a bit further.

“Bud,” the Monkey King hollered excitedly, bouncing on his heels, “Come here, come here! I have a great idea!”

Macaque cautiously uncovered his ears once the yelling had stopped, trudging over to the jade-hewn vase to stand beside his partner. “Uh, Wukong… I don’t know if messing with a sacred vase is all that great of an idea-“

“Hush! Don’t be such a scaredy-cat, bud! We’re gonna toss in a little bit of blood and see how sacred this silly thing really is!”

(Macaque would come to regret many things about has past- but being swayed by Wukong to participate in this sacrilegious ritual would not be amongst the list of them.)

Their blood alike; wrenched from beside Sun’s heart and pulled from the place nearest Macaque’s brain, dripped to the very bottom of the open-mouthed vase, mixing and melding as they oozed down. The blessed container rattled once, twice- then stopped short and went still.

The sudden halt had Wukong howling with laughter, doubled over and wiping tears from his eyes. “Of course not! Like the gods would do anything for the people down here,” he loudly called, as if trying to reach his accusations to the heavens through sheer volume. For good measure, he had given the precious vase a kick, rattling it around.

And listened as something thudded around at the bottom.

Macaque had turned on his sable heel at the sound, scurrying back over to his now alert partner. The demon’s eyes scrunched with worry as Wukong stuffed his arms all the way into the vase, gripping whatever sat at the previously empty bottom. His hand shifted to rest on the end of Wukong’s tiger-hide skirt, though it was more for his own comfort- a way to keep close to his exuberant partner without impeding his arms.

“It’s a baby,” Wukong had stated in awe, a rare note of outright reverence in his voice as he pulled your form past the jade maw of the vase and into his arms. “Bud, this thing just made a baby!”

For a few minutes, neither dared to speak. They just stood and stared, trying to register just how far this little ‘joke’ had spiraled.

Common sense quickly kicked in, leaving Macaque to pry you from his partner, staring down at you with softened eyes.

“Look at her- she’s ours, bud,” the Great Sage announced with pride, and few would have dared to argue with him.

A child fresh to the world, born from dregs of demon blood and formed by sacred jade, with fur and a tail and golden, glowing eyes to prove that you were theirs.

“…never knew I’d be a father,” Macaque quietly says, wrapping you in the long red scarf he always wore.

“Never knew we’d be fathers,” comes his partner’s supportive voice, a rare tone for the Monkey King. Wukong steps forward and slings an arm around Macaque’s neck, hauling him close.

“But I wouldn’t trade this family for the world.”

You had grown up happy and safe, surrounded by uncles whose names had been your first words. Each one was an inspiration to you, standing proud as they walked in lockstep and wielded mighty weapons. They had been your heroes, every last one of them. You wanted to be strong and intelligent and graceful and noble, to be all that they were and even more.

When it had been them and your fathers, everything had been at least fine, when not outright good.

Learning to read maps with Uncle Yellowtusk. Eavesdropping on fights caused by training mishaps. Hunting with Uncle Bull. Getting scolded for messing with weapons without permission. Uncle Peng teaching you how to gut rabbits and fish. Climbing onto shoulders and backs so you wouldn’t fall underfoot.

Everything with Uncle Azure.

Listening close to his stories and relishing his kind touch, letting him braid your hair and fix your clothes. Sitting on his knees and sharing your food, trying new things with his gentle encouragement. Staying up far too late to stargaze with him before falling asleep in his arms, wrapped in his cape.

It had been family, however unorthodox.

But not all families are built to last- some crumble and sever, instead.

One fight years later had been the tipping point between your fathers, leaving Macaque to cart you away over his shoulder as he sulked away through the shadows, putting as much distance between himself and Wukong as possible- he still had you, Macaque reminds himself.

None of the past mattered if he could focus on a bright future with his daughter. The two of you. Alone. No brothers, no partners- just a father and his daughter. No more teasing remarks or being spoken over or dragged along on dangerous missions for a futile cause.

Just him and you.

And that works for all of five centuries, before there’s a ‘parent swap’ and one of your fathers is dead with a glittering gold staff struck through his flesh and bone, poking in through his eye and out through his skull.

Macaque’s blood; freshly splattered across you, hadn’t even dried before Wukong had swept you into his arms with a guttural scream of both sorrow and relief. His child, at the cost of his partner.

Not a fair trade. But one he chose to make anyways.

The Great Sage holds you close, pressing kisses to your forehead and wiping away your fearful tears. He whispers into your ear about how safe you are now, how you won’t ever be alone or scared again. How he’s back and so, so sorry that it took so long to find and save you, that he’ll protect you from now on.

And how he won’t let you go ever again.

How could he? You’re his.

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere Lego Monkie Kid #Yandere LMK #Yandere Sun Wukong #Sun Wukong #Yandere Macaque #Macaque #Yandere Father #Yandere Shadowpeach #Shadowpeach

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noirflms · 10 months

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୧ ˚₊ LUCKY RITUAL — sakusa kiyoomi

it’s your and his thing before he goes to stand on the court and win the game.

kiyoomi is not an affectionate man, yet he had his heart out to you – all yours to keep. he isn’t a big fan of his love in the public, a rather private escapade is what love is to him. from kisses he steals from you away from the eyes of the paparazzi in the bounds of your shared home is love to him – not the way that miya atsumu has a new girl on his arm every now and then.

it was not easy for you to make the man open up to you. it was way difficult that you had thought it will be. he was sheltered, a boy bound to his very own bubble and not letting anyone enter it. he hated when anyone crossed this bubble of his – even his cousin komori was cautious of it.

it was not in him let someone in so easily. he was a man within his walls, a man who didn’t like others to enter in them. but that changed when he met you.

you were rather eccentric and quite the opposite of him. you were open when he was so hard to read, you loved people and he hated them. you were like the sun while he was the moon and he wasn’t far away from this ideal prospect which he had created in his mind. to him – you were never meant to be his, yet here he is now, surrounded by his teammates in the locker rooms who kiss their partners with a goal to win in mind.

“ you’re thinking too hard , omi. ” he is brought of his stupor at the sound of your voice. you stand beside him with his hand holding onto yours. he has no heart to let go yet and you make out when his grip on your hand turn tighter and you don’t miss the chance to squeeze it in reassurance.

“ you make me think too hard. ” he musters, his voice muffled due to the mask he wears and the words sure do make your eyes widen but you soon your lips break into a huge grin. the sound of your chuckles makes his eyes soften as he looks at you, his thumbs drawing circles on the back of your hand – a thing he does when he feels nervous around many every now and then.

“ you’ll do good. i know. ”

your words make him sigh. it’s heavy as it takes through his whole body. he washes out the noisy teammates of his as he leans down to rest his head on your shoulder. he hates the way you make him feel and he certainly hates the butterflies you give him even after all these years. he feels your fingers brush through his curly tuft of hair and another sigh of relief is released.

the sound of the loud voice of the announcer echoes through the locker room. all players of his team ready to head out, assuring their partners they’ll be fine, they’ll be good. it is then all are pouring out of the room, calls of kiyoomi’s name are said aloud, telling him to be quick, hinata waving his hand at you and so does bokuto with a huge smile on his face, atsumu being pulled by the ear by their captain as he waves at you with a pain stricken look while sakusa watches it all.

as all walk out, it is you and him that are left behind. he has hands still on your waist, he doesn’t want to move. but he knows he has to, he has to rush out their and win, be the good ol’ sakusa kiyoomi he has always been.

“ will you win? ” your voice makes his eyes turn to you, his fingers are turning to pull his mask off, and amidst the silence his lips land on yours, he gets the taste of your cherry chapstick – it is always the one you wear to his matches. it is your and his little ritual before the match, to share a kiss before he smashes his opponents in the court.

it’s a lucky ritual of his, one he never forgets to do before any match. it took him a while to turn accustomed to it, but he likes it, he likes the way he gets to kiss you with the rush of adrenaline in him before the match, he likes it when a kiss shared with you ignites him whole. he likes to kiss you is all and that he is something he’d never deny. your laugh into the kiss finding it sudden, and you know his lips would smell off your cherry chapstick as well.

“ of course, i’ve got my luck with me. ”

that is all you hear before he steals a kiss of your lips and is rushing through the hallway to his team as you laugh looking at the tall man in a hurry. he’s always been like this, yet it is you who makes him a man like this and he would never change a thing about this.

highlighter sakusa >>>>

#౨ৎ ⋆˚｡⋆ 𝒔.tamped #i love my curly haired pookie sakusa #x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #hq sakusa #msby sakusa #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa x reader #sakusa x y/n #haikyuu fluff #haikyu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu drabbles #sakusa fluff #sakusa imagines #sakusa scenarios #sakusa drabble

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flurry-of-stars · 12 days

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𝐹𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻, 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝓇𝑒𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝒹

𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Idol! Nikolai x Idol! Reader 𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒

Idol AU, pre-established relationship, secret relationship

⚠️ 18+, mature content ⚠️ Jealousy, smut with plot, public groping, cunnilingus, fingering, grinding, unprotected sex, praise, pet names, dom/sub undertones.

𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: A chuckle rumbles in his throat as his fingertips trail further up your arm, towards your delicate shoulder, His hand massages it tentatively as he teasingly whispers, “So feisty~ But you know I’ve always loved that about you.” “I knew you’d get jealous~” 𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒞𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 7.4k (𝒜/𝒩: I forgot I had this draft from April so I decided to finish it up. I had more planned for this AU but we'll see (//▽//) Fish in a Birdcage gave me a reason to write something spicy--)

𝕽𝖊𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞 𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖉 ♡

“Okay girls! Take a five minute break and then we’ll be moving on to the next routine!” The choreographer claps his hands twice before turning away, walking away from the stage.

Your eyes trail him as he disappears past the crew preparing everything for tomorrow night and towards your manager. You sit down, wiping rolling sweat off your forehead as your fellow Everglow Angelics idols also sit down. You hear one whine, “My feet are killing me. We’ve been going at this since five in the morning!” You identify the voice as Makayla’s without even looking over at her. She was the youngest of the group. “I didn’t even eat anything before I left my apartment,” another whines as she lays on the stage. “Do you think we can get away with getting delivery?” “Unless you want to piss off Simon again, I suggest you don’t Cecilia.” A fellow idol warns as she walks around, passing everyone water bottles. You crack the cap on yours, the cool drink refreshing you as the conversation goes on, “We only have a few more routines left, then we can head out for the day.” “You forgot Nadia, they also want to do a full dress rehearsal,” Makayla says without looking over. “And we have to sit through the boy's routine too.” Cecilia scoffs as she fights with the cap on her bottle, “Like seriously? We won’t even be here after they usher us off stage.” “I thought it was just to decide who’s being partnered with who?” You inquire. Cecilia sighs and shrugs. “Apparently not,” she grumbles. She turns her attention to Nadia again, whining again, “What if we get delivery from that seafood place? The one that just opened up on the other side of town?”

“Lydia’s allergic to shellfish,” Nadia replies calmly, wiping her forehead with her sleeve. Lydia silently nods as she rubs her shoulder. She always was the quietest of the group. She flashes Cecilia a teasing look, “And besides, we all know you’d never order seafood.” “What! Yes I would--!” As the conversation goes on, your gaze drifts towards Simon, your manager, dressed in an expensive grey suit, and the choreographer. You see another man walking up to them.

You recognise him instantly as one of the idols from the male group. Eli. You narrow your eyes, trying to read his lips. But alas, that was a talent you’d yet to perfect. Simon nods a few times, though you notice the way his brow furrows in irritation.

Whatever Eli asked about, Simon wasn’t happy about it, raising a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. But he seems to get his way as he leaves with a grin. You’re about to follow him with your gaze but you see Simon getting closer to the stage, a large smile that doesn’t reach his eyes plastered all over his face. You whisper to the girls, grabbing their attention. “Ladies, may I have your attention for a moment.” He calls in a loud voice. Though you and your fellow idols wince, you put those acting classes to good use.

Sweet smiles adorn each of your faces as you share glances of ‘Oh god, here we go’ with each other. His feigned smile tugs slightly, as if adjusting itself back into place. He continues, “Due to some complications with your fellow idol group, we’re going to decide the pairings for tomorrow night now.”

As Simon says this, footsteps echo on the stagefloor, causing you to look back. Joining you onstage as expected is the male idol group Simon also manages. “So let’s deal with this quickly so you lovely ladies can get back to work, alright?” He grins wide for a moment, but it swiftly drops as he steps back, his hand cupping and running over his chin.

You stand up, your heart fluttering a little as you roll the water bottle between your hands.

You hear him pairing off the others first; Makayla with Eli is the first pairing you hear. You wait quietly as the other girls are paired off, your heart fluttering as you realize who you’re going to be paired with. “And that just leaves—” You squeak in surprise as your wrist is grabbed, hand lifted as you’re spun, your water bottle slipping out of your hand. Then you’re dipped. Heat rushes to your cheeks as a strong hand holds the small of your back, your heart leaping as you see an all too familiar smirk and a pair of gleaming, mismatched eyes, “—Us~” Nikolai Gogol.

The most beloved of the male idol group and the non-official leader, as dubbed by the fans. Quite frankly, you couldn’t blame them. Especially not when you had your own private box of merch hidden away at home. Even dressed in simple clothes, as he was now, you could feel yourself swooning. Or maybe that was just because his black shirt was so tight, you could see his muscles through it-- He tugs you back up into a standing position, his hand practically gluing itself to your waist as the other girls giggle. You swallow slowly, trying to calm down.

After all, there wasn’t anything wrong with how you were being held. Your heart pounds like a drum in your chest as you hear Simon continuing to talk as he walks the length of the stage, “—So for this concert, Eli,I want you to pick Makayla up—” You lose focus on the discussion, a hushed sound escaping you as you feel Nikolai’s hand slyly grope your ass for a split second. You huff under your breath, “Kolya, behave.”

“What~? I didn’t do anything,” he replies in a quiet tone. God, that accent of his made your knees shiver instantly. His hand finds its way back to your waist, tugging you closer. You whine, feeling the heat of his body against yours. Simon is still discussing plans for the concert with Eli and Makayla when you feel his hand sliding under your skirt this time for a fraction of a second. The tease. “Nikolai,” you sternly whisper, earning a cheeky giggle in return. His hand moves with the speed of a snake, latching itself back onto your waist. It feels like there’s a fire forming in your cheeks as your grumble, “Are you trying to get us caught? If Simon sees us—” “He won’t, songbird,” he whispers to you, his warm breath caressing the lobe of your ear. His hand caresses your waist a little too intimately as he places a swift kiss on your ear. It's fast, soft...teasing. “I don’t want to risk it even slightly,” you grumble, your body trembling under Nikolai’s touch. You chew on your bottom lip, watching as Simon begins talking to Nadia and her partner for the concert.

“You saw how he reacted when that delivery guy so much as flirted with Cecilia. Could you imagine if he found out about us?” Nikolai snickers, teasing you with each caress to your waist, “He isn’t going to catch us, songbird. I know what I’m doing.” His hand dips to your hip, giving it a squeeze, You whimper as your heart leaps. You can practically feel it throbbing against your ribcage.

“Don’t fly too close to the sun, Icarus,” you tease, voice slightly stern as it trembles slightly. You feel his fingers fiddling with the hem of your skirt, almost as if he’s contemplating teasing you further, another deep, throaty chuckle escaping him. “Then tell me you don’t want me to touch you like this,” he purrs teasingly. You can feel his eyes gleaming as he watches you like a predator, waiting to pounce on its cornered prey.

He’s waiting to see if you give him the green light. He wants to hear you give me consent. But unfortunately, you don’t plan on granting his wish today. Sternly, you mumble, “Do not touch me intimately where our manager or the public eye can see.” You huff, feeling his large hand pause on your waist. You hear him clicking his tongue a few times.

Then, as another chuckle escapes him, his hand returns to your waist, loosening its grip slightly. “Your wish is my command, songbird~” You frown. Why does he sound so smug all of a sudden? You knew Nikolai well enough to know when he was up to something.

The only question was what. ★★★

A cascade of glittery stars and confetti explodes from over the top of the stage, the crowd erupting into a cacophonous roar of glee and applause. Beams of bright gold and white slowly change direction, from pointing at the crowd to focusing their attention to the girl group of pop idols on the stage as the last of the fog evaporates. A fresh layer of sweat runs down your forehead as the backing track ends, raising a hand to swiftly swipe it away before the cameras can catch it.

The puffy, short princess dress you wore shimmered gold under the hot stage lights, despite being made of a pure white material, the small sparkles embedded into the skirt sparkling elegantly. But even in a short dress like this, you were melting under the intense heat of the stage lights, on top of the past three hours of non-stop performing some of the most intense dance routines your group had learnt while still being expected to sing in an unwavering voice.

You look at the other four girls with you, all wearing similar styles of Princess dresses, just in different colors. They all looked just as exhausted as you. There was just one more part of the show to go. It was the part of the show a majority of the fans were waiting for. It was one of the biggest reasons why so many of your fans were always so desperate to get their hands on tickets, even if it meant paying resellers thousands.

Someone from backstage begins handing you the glittery microphones to pass down the line, which you do so with practiced ease. The idol on the far end, Nadia, is dressed in a longer, lilac colored dress. She speaks up, her voice warm and sweet. “Is everyone having a great night?” She asks sweetly, holding her microphone up to the crowd. A wave of noise erupts back at her, a sea of glow sticks of each of their member's corresponding colors going up. She smiles, teasingly speaking into the microphone, “I can’t hear you~!” You grimace, keeping a forced smile on your face as the crowd's screams grow louder. You can hear chants for your name and the other idol’s names in there as well. Even a few ‘I love you’s’. The squeals were the ones that split through your skull the worst.

You can already feel your head thumping as the idol in the middle, Makayla, in her sleeveless dress in pink, steps forward. “We’re so happy you all enjoyed our show! We genuinely cannot thank you enough for coming out just to see us tonight!”

“But it’s getting late,” Lydia, the idol to her left speaks up, sounding more downcast. Her light blue dress has the longest sleeves and skirt. With every move she makes, she shimmers faintly. “So it’s time for us to bid you adieu!” The idol beside you, Cecilia, chimes in, sounding much more upbeat and cheerful in her pale yellow dress. Her hands and neck are adorned with jewels that shimmer and sparkle, almost blinding you as you look at her. You can feel your heart pounding as you smile out at the wild crowd. You notice every glow stick that’s shining white in the crowd as though they would be your own personal beacons, calling out just for you, screaming their support with each waggle and wave.

You take a deep breath. Your words would be the cue for the tech guys. Smiling widely, you speak happily into the microphone as you and the other girls prepare to wave to your beloved fans, “We love you all and can’t wait to see you again--!” Just like that, the stage lights go out. Your idol group begin acting panicked, each one speaking over the other as you hear the excitement growing in the crowd, notice how much more frantic the glow stick waves have become.

You hear heavier footsteps rushing onto the stage as your group's frantic words grow. “Wha--!” “Watch the dress--!!” “Where are you putting those hands--!!” It was all part of the performance. The fans were exhilarated. You could hear their loud, excited screams and cheers already, and even saw a few fans bouncing up and down in place out of sheer excitement of what was about to happen. As you feel a gloved hand snake around your waist as planned, your heart flutters as you continue putting up a fake fight, faking your annoyance until the lights come back on at the call of one of the other girls. When your eyes meet the male idol that has your wrist, you quickly realise he isn’t the man you were expecting. You blink, looking up at the debonair idol before you hear an all too familiar chuckle behind you. You turn to see Nikolai, the one you were expecting to be holding you. Except he’s holding Makayla. Almost cradling her in his arms. Your throat grows tight instantly as your heart squeezes, as though a boa constrictor would be coiling around it. His outfit was flashy and loud, despite the outfit only consisting of shades of black and white. Anytime the stage lights touched him, numerous parts of his outfit would twinkle and sparkle, from the rhinestones above his eyes and along his little top hat to the stars decorating the inner fabric of his elegant, checkered patterned overcoat. It billows behind him as he holds up your fellow idol, a charming smirk on his face. The crowd explodes in loud cheers and cries. Glowsticks turn from the colors of your idol group to the color of theirs.

The vast crowd screams the names of the male idols, many jumping as they scream. Others shaking their glowsticks so aggressively you’re almost expecting them to go airborne and knock someone out.

For many fans in the crowd, this was the whole reason they came to this show to begin with. You watch as he continues holding your fellow idol, taking her microphone from her as he speaks into it. When he speaks, his Ukrainian accent is smooth like melted butter, making a shiver run down your spine, “Quiz time~! Is it time for the party to end, dear audience?” He holds the microphone towards the crowd, earning varying degrees of response. Screams of no in varying degrees, along with many, many fans screaming their love as if this would be their last chance to do it. You wonder for a brief moment how they’re still able to scream after doing it for three hours straight when the voice of the idol with braided white locks breaks you from your thoughts. “Correct answers~! In fact, I think we’re just getting started!~ Riiiight~?” His mismatched eyes gaze at the other male idols, never once grazing your form. You feel your heart squeeze more as the other male idols cheer in agreement, much to his delight.

His smirk grows and you swear, you see his hand caressing the waist of the idol girl in pink. “Then I say we send these gorgeous ladies on their way and we continue the show~! Come along now, shoo, all of you~!” You gasp as the idol holding your wrist begins gently tugging you towards the curtain. You can hear the others creating a scene, as was expected, telling you and the other girls to head home for the night as your fellow idols whined and resisted. But you couldn’t find it in your heart to perform right now. Not when you’d just witnessed Nikolai holding another woman, regardless if it was an act or not. Once your group has been shooed backstage, pushed away with a few playful teases tossed in for good measure, you hug yourself gently as you walk to the dressing room, frowning deeply as the scene plays over and over in your mind.

The way he picked her up. How he held her. The position of his hand on her waist. The next track starts, the music booming off the walls, thumping loudly in your mind. But your mind was only focused on one thing right now.

You look up, noticing the other idols talking between each other, complaining of their exhaustion.

It isn’t a big deal, you try and tell yourself. It’s all part of the allure of the act. It’s what made rumours spread and caused the names of both idol groups to constantly be front page news every week. You were just taking things too personally.

And yet the more you dwell on it, the heavier your heart grows. Taking a few quick steps, you catch up to the others. “Makayla, can I ask you something?” The woman in the pink Princess dress looks up, smiling warmly as she stops in her tracks. You notice the exhaustion in her smile however, so you decide to cut to the chase, “Eli was suppose to pick you up on stage, wasn’t he?” Makayla looks at you curiously, her hands delicately working on taking her hair down from the intricate way it had been styled, “Yeah, he was. I’m not sure what happened but it’s not a big deal. Nikolai picked me up with no trouble at all.” She sounds genuinely astonished. “I had no idea he was that strong until tonight.” You swallow, feeling a lump forming in your throat. Nadia steps forward, a small grin on her face, “Oooh did you get to touch his muscles, Myka?” Makayla giggles, “He was holding me like a Princess, Nadia. It was hard not to!” The ladies giggle amongst themselves before she gives a sigh. No one has noticed that you haven’t spoken in these past few minutes, “It’s a shame our manager gave us that strict no dating rule. I would ask him out in a flash.” “It sounds to me more like you’d ask him straight into your bed,” Nadia replies teasingly, causing both women to start laughing again. That constricting feeling around your heart grows. You feel each painful thump your heart makes as you try to keep calm, your throat feeling so painfully dry. Excusing yourself with a sweet smile, you run to your dressing room before it gets too much. It didn’t mean anything. It was all part of the performance. It was just an act.

So then why did you feel like crying? ★★★

You slump onto the sofa in your townhouse, huffing as you lick a freezing blob of your favourite ice cream off the spoon. Some old rerun for a show is playing on the television but you’re not paying attention to it. It’s been a few days since your last onstage performance. You and the other idols were on break for the next few days before you would be heading to France for a special photo shoot in Paris.

A well known fashion designer wanted you and your fellow idols to wear her latest designs for her in her upcoming fashion show, so she was bringing you to Paris for the next week on an all-expenses paid trip. You were looking forward to it, as much as you could at least. Your heart twists in your chest everytime you look at your phone screen and notice Nikolai still hasn’t messaged you.

Your heart twists painfully as you toss your phone aside, grabbing the tub of ice cream, and devouring a few more scoops with a heavy sigh. Whatever. You didn’t need him. You should’ve known he was just treating you like an easy fling. It was really your fault for-- The phone chimes happily. You practically toss the tub of half eaten ice cream aside, diving for it. Your heart flutters with excitement...before that excitement is stomped on like a roach. It was one of the other idols messaging you. Cecilia [6:05pm]: Heyyy, do u think u can help me with smth? Cecilia [6:06pm]: Can u resend me that email our manager sent us all last week? Cecilia [6:07pm]: U know, the 1 with our schedules 4 our Paris trip? Cecilia [6:08pm]: I mstve accidently deleted it. I wuld be soooo g8ful if u sent it 2 me! ♡ You sigh, flopping your face into the plump couch cushion. Of course it wasn’t Nikolai. Stupid you for getting your hopes up like that. You groan loudly into the cushion before lifting your head, typing back. Me [6:10pm]: Sure C. I’ll send it ASAP. Cecilia [6:11pm]: Ur the literal best! I’ll buy u something while we’re in Paris to ty! Cecilia [6:12pm]: Wine? Macaroons? Watever u want, just name it n I’ll get it!!! There's a brief flicker of warmth in your heart as you smile at your phone. You drop it, leaving it on the sofa as you begin making your way upstairs to your study. It was modest, mostly because most of the shelves were empty aside from a few random books you read as a teenager and a few candles and other random ornaments you received as gifts from family members who didn’t know what to get you. You still had the same desktop computer you used as a teenager too. It was slow but until it loaded its last webpage, you’d keep using it. The door creaks as you open it.

Hopefully, you’d saved the file she was talking about into your important folder. Your hand reaches out, gliding across the light switch when a hand suddenly grasps your own, tugging you close. You cry out in surprise, your heart lunging into your throat as Nikolai pulls you in, his hand squeezes yours while the other finds its way around your waist.

He pulls you close. Very close, so that your bodies are touching, “Finally,” he chuckles, his hand moving to caress your wrist. “I wondered when you’d head upstairs.”

You’re frozen for a moment. When did he…? He must’ve used his key to sneak in while you were in the shower earlier! As you calm down, your brain finally catches up.

Then you try and pull away from him, huffing, “You’re lucky I didn’t punch you for startling me!” You can feel that constricting pain rising in your chest as you try to pull away from him. But he doesn’t let you go. A chuckle rumbles in his throat as his fingertips trail further up your arm, towards your delicate shoulder. His hand massages it tentatively as he teasingly whispers, “So feisty~ But you know I’ve always loved that about you.” He leans in, his warm breath caressing the side of your delicate neck.

A shiver that you try to deny runs down your spine as he whispers against your rapidly beating pulse. He smirks at you as he leans up, whispering directly into your ear. His words make that imaginary dagger in your chest twist in deeper, “I knew you’d get jealous~ But you can’t be mad at me; I was just doing as you told me~” Your face becomes hotter instantly. You grunt as you try and push him away, but Nikolai still doesn’t let you create any distance between you two, “What nonsense are you rattling on about?” You reply, scoffing at him.

You hated the fact that he could read you like a book sometimes. You hear him chuckle again as he places a fleeting kiss on your earlobe. “Oh, I know you know what I’m talking about.” His voice rumbles in his throat like a deep purr. His hand moves from your shoulder to the back of your neck, your chest pressing flush with his.

You can feel his heart beating against your own as he continues teasing, “I saw the way you grimaced on stage when the lights came back on and I wasn’t the one holding you. You know...” “...When you saw me holding that girl up~ ” Your heart squeezes again. You scoff, sounding more furious as he finally lets you push him away, “No I didn’t. You’re just making things up.” You walk away from him, heading over to your computer. You don’t sit down yet as you boot up the system, waiting for the old device to switch on. Your mind reels back to that moment in the night when for just a second his arm had wrapped around the waist of Makayla. The way his hand tightened around her before the performance continued and you were all ushered off that stage.

But that’s all it was. Part of the act. None of it was serious. It wasn't part of the routine but there was always a possibility that plans were changed. And yet you knew that touch had never happened before with any other fan or fellow idol. Nikolai was touchy but there were boundaries in place. Boundaries that he rarely pushed, unless intending to tease you. He was always respectful of any boundaries you put in place.

Which meant– You jump as the computer suddenly blares to life, the welcome page popping up. As you’re typing in your password, you gasp as you feel a pair of strong hands caressing your sides, sliding under your blouse to touch your delicate, sensitive skin.

You bite your lip as you feel the warmth of his body as he presses up against you, your fingers gliding across the keyboard as you focus on what you’re doing.

“You don’t have to hide it,” he cooed against your back, his hands trailing to your hips. “I think you’re quite adorable when you get jealous like this~” His hands slide further under your blouse, his firm fingers caressing your soft stomach as you whine, hands trembling on your keyboard. “K-Kolya, I’m trying to do something here,” you grumble, trying to focus. His fingertips slide under the bottom of your bra, finally earning a soft moan from you. With a devilish smirk, he begins gently teasing your nipples, shushing you softly. “You’ve been working so hard all week.” He leans in, his warm breath caressing your ear as you writhe faintly in his touch. “Why don’t you let me help you relax and take your mind off that Matilda girl, hm~?” Nikolai calling Makayla the wrong name made you feel a bit better. You groan as he gropes your breasts with more intent now, his large hand caressing and squeezing eagerly, his thumbs fondly brushing against your hardening nipples.

Your back arches into him as you pull away from the computer. But within a second, one of his hands moves to your upper back, pushing down. “Stay.” His hand caresses your back and breast, both trailing down to your hips. His hands begin to move further down your body, causing your legs to part the slightest. A deep chuckle rumbles in his throat as he sees your body reacting on its own as a smooth purr escapes him, “Good girl…” His hands slide your skintight shorts down. A satisfied noise escapes him as he notices the panties you’re wearing, “Aww baby…you’re mad at me but still wearing the panties I got you for our anniversary~? How precious~” “I didn’t wear them for–” Before you can finish giving him sass, you gasp as he gently smacks you on the ass. You cry out, more in surprise than pain as he clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Now, now. There’s no need to lie, baby.” He coos softly, one of his hands snaking around to your stomach. His hand slips into your pretty white lace panties, brushing against your slit.

You lift your head, moaning again as it dips further in, his fingers stroking and rubbing against the delicate flesh as you squirm softly. His voice is an amused, yet near predatorial purr. “So be honest with me, yeah? You were jealous of that girl–” His fingers caress your growing wetness even more intensively now as one digit moves to rub your clit. You give a small, high-pitched cry as you lean over your desk more, your hands finding purchase wherever they can.

Your hips wiggle softly as he grasps your hip with his free hand, holding you steady. “--Jealous that I touched her waist like that. What did your pretty mind think, hm? What sort of wild things ran through your imagination?” “K-Kolya…” You breathlessly whisper as you try to think straight. Heat begins pooling in your stomach as you can feel your body getting hot and needy. "Come on, my pretty little songbird." He purrs against your throat, his tongue darting out, running along your madly beating pulse. Your breathing grows heavier as his slow caresses grow just a touch rougher, prompting more whines from you, "If you want me to keep going, you have to tell me the truth." You whimper, hands clutching at your desk, eyes closing in a desperate attempt to keep the truth in. But all it takes is one caress, faster than the rest to make you gasp, "Y-yes! Yes, yes, y-you're right!" "Say the words, songbird~" He teases, his finger rubbing at your clit to give you the incentive you need. "I-I was jealous! J-jealous of Makayla!" You blurt out, your legs squirming slightly as you whine needily. “Good girl, oh so good girl, fuck baby, you’re already so wet for me,” he purrs, leaning over you to nip at your earlobe. His fingers move faster for a moment before he pulls back, suddenly dropping to his knees and encouraging you to spread your legs.

You can feel the near desperation in his touch as he suddenly pulls your panties down enough to expose your soaked cunt. Like a starved man, Nikolai wastes no time getting in close. His tongue rasps and licks hungrily at your wet pussy, making you cry out softly, your grip tightening on the desk. You can feel vibrations rolling off his tongue as he groans into your pussy, your taste and scent intoxicating him like a drug. His hands squeeze your hips, holding you still as his tongue slips into your pussy. Your back arches as you throw your head back, a moan of pleasure slipping from your lips. “Kolya!! Oh fuck!!” You cry, shaking against your desk softly. You lay your upper half back down on your desk, hips jerking back faintly to meet each thrust of his tongue as you moan and whimper against your desk as he fucks you with his tongue.

After a few thrusts, it snakes back out, his tongue flicking at your clit as one of his fingers takes its place. Your squirming grows more desperate as you near the edge of release. One of your feet lifts, shaking faintly as you try to hold on. Heat and pleasure surge through your sensitive body as you writhe, left at the mercy of the idol.

You can feel his digit thrusting, probing and spreading you open as his tongue laps at your clit. Then, suddenly, he begins sucking on it. Just like that, you feel that tight coil in your stomach releasing. You tremble as you climax, your moans echoing in your study as you give Nikolai what he is seeking. He laps every drop of your release up, savouring your sweetness like it would be a blessing from a higher power.

Pleased groans escape him as he squeezes your hip, pulling back to growl against your inner thigh, peppering it with little kisses and nips, “That’s it, that’s my good girl, god you have no idea how good you taste…”

As you pant and try to catch your breath, you push your body up slightly, opening your mouth to speak only to feel two of his wet digits slipping into your mouth. You groan, tasting yourself on his fingers as a dirty shiver runs down your spine. You obediently suck and lick his fingers clean as you hear one of his hands fumbling with his belt buckle behind you as he chuckles right into your ear, “Well…now you do~” Suddenly, a familiar jingle fills the air between heavy breathing and soft moans. Nikolai clicks his tongue, grabbing his phone. He answers it, pressing his cheek against his phone to hold it in place as he talks.

You hear the instant his belt buckle hits the floor with a satisfying thump, “Make it quick, I’m busy with something.” His fingers slide out of your mouth, covering your mouth with his hand instead as you hear him speaking on the phone still, “Mhm…well what’s the time now…” He pauses, then replies, “It’s barely gone 6:30. I have plenty of time to finish my business here.” You groan into his palm as you feel his hard, throbbing erection rubbing against your wet slit. You close your eyes, shuddering as he teases you with his cock while speaking into the phone in an irritated tone, “The dinner isn’t till 9pm, why is it–” He gives you one hard thrust. “--such–” And another. “--a big–” This time, the tip of his cock nudges against your clit, making you whine against his palm. “--deal?” He grunts softly. You can practically hear him rolling his eyes as he pulls back, continuing to grind on you roughly. He clicks his tongue, groaning, “Fine. I’ll be there at 8.”

Before you can even think of asking, you hear his phone thumping softly against your desk before he grabs you by the hips, yanking you back. You shudder as his hand slips from your mouth, grasping your hip tightly, his nails digging into tender flesh as he sits back on your office chair, the plush cushion making a soft sound as he sits back, making you straddle his lap, his hard cock poking between your thighs. He pulls you in, back pressed flush against his chest as he breaths against your fluttering pulse, “You heard that, baby. I can’t stay and play with you for as long as I wanted to.” His hands run up and down your hips, squeezing your waist, his nails caressing your soft tummy as you whimper. He presses a heated kiss against your neck as he purrs into your ear, “So let’s enjoy each other, yeah~?”

He bites into your neck as he lines himself up with your entrance, slipping in with one fast thrust. The moan that escapes you is louder than you intended it to be. You feel his hands squeezing your waist tighter, a low growl of pleasure escaping him as he quickly nips at your tender neck, a shivering groan escaping him as he hisses against your neck, “Fuck…yesss. Just like that, my little songbird. God, you take me so fucking well..” He places swift nips and kisses along your neck as you whine, your hips finally starting to move as you realise Nikolai isn’t going to take action.

You lift your head, moaning softly as you feel his hands moving back up your body as if worshipping every inch of your skin with his touch and mouth. They slide under your blouse, back under your bra. He squeezes your breasts roughly, pulling you tight against him. You lean your head back, resting it gently against him as you ride him. The leather squeaks softly, the chair rattling a little as Nikolai’s grunts and groans fill your ear. His warm tongue slides against her neck, moving up to your ear, where he nibbles on your earlobe, his hands squeezing your breasts like they’re his personal stress relievers.

Pleasure floods every single one of your senses as you feel sweat starting to bead on your brows as carnal desire fills your veins. You can hear Nikolai huffing, groaning as he keeps ghosting nibbling bites and sensual licks along your ear and neck, his teeth tugging your earlobe as his fingers twist and pinch your nipples.

A strangled moan escapes you, his sudden actions making you rock a little harder on his cock, desperate and hungry for more of him. You whine as you feel his lips kissing the corner of your mouth as he whispers in a low voice. “Oh my~ Is someone feeling a little needy, are they~?” You gasp at how swiftly his hands move across your body, one snatching a handful of hair with its tight grasp, the other grabbing your hip, stopping your movements.

He chuckles darkly, lust dripping off his voice as he whispers, “Let me help you, my little love~” In one swift movement, you're pressed back against your desk, chest flush with the hard timber as you feel your boyfriend taking control. You cry out at the sudden, ravenous tempo he sets, his hips slapping against yours with reckless abandon. If you were hungry for more, then Nikolai was starving. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills your office as he keeps a firm grip on your hair, tugging your head back just enough to press his lips to yours in a searing, dominating kiss.

His tongue slips inside your mouth as you moan, his tongue swirling against yours as he slams into you animalistically, causing you to almost sob into his mouth. His cock thrusts deep into you, each thrust sending jolts of intense pleasure through every part of your body. You’re panting heavily as he breaks the kiss, your heavy, hot breaths intermingling as he lets go of your hair at last.

He pulls back, hands splaying across your lower back before they grab on tight to your hips. He grunts loudly, holding you firmly as your desk begins to shake and rattle, sending items toppling to the floor as you cling on for dear life. “K-Kolya!! Kolya!!” You cry out, panting heavily. Drunk on pleasure and reaching your tipping point, you frantically gasp, “G-gonna cum!! G-gonna–!” A deep chuckle rumbles in Nikolai’s throat as his hand snakes between your legs, taking the chance to quickly massage your clit roughly, yet quite sloppily, making you scream at how suddenly it happens. Intense waves of pleasure crash over you, your knees quaking as Nikolai’s hips jerk and stutter for just a moment as your cunt clenches around him, squeezing him tightly, tipping him over the edge at the same moment as you. He spills into you as breathless gasps escape both of you, your heavy inhales and exhales filling the room now as your lustful dance reaches its climax.

You lay against the desk for a few moments, trying to compose yourself as your knees threaten to give out. Before they can, you feel Nikolai helping you up, making you sit on your office chair. You would have to clean the mess, but for now, you focus on catching your breath. You can feel Nikolai nuzzling your hair as he murmurs, “Fuck baby…it’s been too long…” “You did that…on purpose…” You finally pant. Nikolai raises an amused brow as he listens to you, “You took Eli’s place...just so you could make me jealous...” A low purr of amusement escapes Nikolai as he keeps nuzzling your hair, breathing in your sweet perfume as he whispers in a teasing voice, “What do you mean, songbird? I was just following your request to not touch you in front of people~” His hand runs through your soft locks, running down so his fingertips can caress your back. You shiver as he pulls back, cackling softly. He leans towards your desk, opening the drawer with a soft sigh. He grabs a few tissues to clean himself up, passing a few to you as he speaks in a slightly annoyed tone, “I’d hoped we could enjoy ourselves for the entire night but–” “--There’s a dinner Simon wants you to attend,” you nod as you stand, cleaning away the mess on your chair. “It doesn’t start till 9 pm but he wants you there at 8.”

You pause as you finish cleaning. You toss the used tissue into the bin under your desk as Nikolai begins fixing his appearance. “Is it important?” A low hum escapes Nikolai as he fixes his ruffled shirt once he buckles his belt back up. His tone is more carefree now, despite how annoyed he is at having his evening interrupted, “It’s likely a publicity stunt. You know that one up-and-coming actress? The one that everyone's talking about?"

You grimace; you already knew where this was going. You nod, causing Nikolai to run a hair through his messy fringe, his hands elegantly freeing his hair from its braid, his snow white locks cascading over his shoulder loosely...Fuck. Even that was hot. He continues speaking as he grabs your comb from your desk drawer, “Well…the boss wants us to be friendly with her. Or, rather…he wants me to be friendly with her.” He combs through his fringe, tidying it up before moving on to his braid. “You know how it is–” “So he says none of us are allowed to date publicly, but he’ll throw you at any female idol or actress when it benefits him,” you bitterly reply as you get dressed. You hear your comb hit your desk as Nikolai approaches you, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek, his loose braid falling apart momentarily. “Songbird, you know this is all part of the job.” His mismatched eyes gleam with an apology unspoken. He tugs you closer, embracing you tightly.

Your arms snake around him as he hugs you close to his body, his hands caressing your back as he murmurs, “It’s all just business. If we’re seen with someone like her, our names and faces will be everywhere. We’ll be the talk of the city. Brand deals, more modelling opportunities.” You grumble into his chest, “I think your group has already made it far enough without needing to cosy up to some big shot actress…” You feel Nikolai’s body shudder against yours, a groan escaping him as he squeezes you tighter. His breath is hot on your earlobe as he whispers in a raspy voice. “Fuck baby...you know what to say to get me all riled up again…” He breathes heavily in your ear and you know it’s taking his all to not bend you over your desk again and fuck you until you’re nothing but a sobbing mess beneath his hands. Taking a deep inhale, Nikolai pulls away from you. Then he presses his fingertip to your nose, catching you by surprise. He flashes you a grin. A warm, affectionate grin, “But I assure you, this is just business, so don’t go getting your panties in a twist~” You huff, trying to swat his hand away but he pulls back quickly, cackling softly. You tug your shorts back up, fitting them back into place, nose held slightly high, “You owe me for this.” As he opens his mouth to speak, you interrupt him as your arms cross over your chest, “And I don’t mean sex or gifts or a vacation overseas.” His gaze turns more curious, more serious as he studies your features. His grin becomes a curious smile as he tilts his head at you, humming curiously, “Then what does my little songbird desire?” You’re quiet for a long while, hesitating to ask for what you truly want. You squirm in place, fiddling with your fingers. A faint heat rises in your cheeks as you reply, “I want to go on a proper date.” His mismatched eyes widen, then slowly soften as he sighs a little, “Songbird, you know we can’t be seen—” “Please.” Your sudden plea makes him pause in his tracks. His eyes stare into your own, watching as yours tremble. You’re begging with him, pleading for him not to say no, “I know we can’t be seen in public. I know we’d be risking our careers but—”

You gasp as he suddenly places a finger over your lips, gently silencing you. He leans down, bringing his voice to a soft whisper, his beautiful emerald and sapphire eyes gazing into the depths of yours, “I’ll figure something out, okay?” He stands back up straight, his hands moving back to swiftly braid his hair back up, “But I really do need to go, songbird.” You pout a little, watching as he prepares to head out for the night. Before he can, you reach out, grabbing his arm. He blinks, looking back at you as you lean up, giving him a parting kiss on the lips. It’s quick. It’s sweet. Pure. “I love you.” You whisper. He chuckles as he reaches out, ruffling your already messy hair. “I know you do, now come on. You know what’ll happen if I keep boss man waiting.” He pats your head a few more times before he slips out of your study, disappearing into the night. You frown a little as you watch him leave, lifting a hand to bite your nails anxiously.

You weren’t okay with what your manager had planned for your boyfriend tonight, but at the end of the day, you knew there was nothing you could do about it.

18 + divider by @/zeenmrala

Musical note divider by @/strangergraphics-archive

#bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #nikolai gogol x reader #nikolai x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #Flurry-of-writing

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stranger-nightmare · 2 years

Note

Ok for One year anniversary i've a request!

10+20 from nsfw prompt with Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon/Strong!fem!reader.

(plus: I imagined the scenario in general where reader finds herself arguing with his uncle, and in the throes of indignation or anger she slaps Aemond in the face and leaves him breathless; if this was to somehow defeat him instead it triggers in him a burning lust for his niece and...well I leave the rest to you)

Thank you so much and happy anniversary!!

𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐫

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x (female) Reader

Summary: nsfw prompt 10 ‘for an argument to turn into sex’, & nsfw prompt 20 ‘for angry sex’ | you and Aemond are betrothed, but it doesn’t stop his eyes from wandering elsewhere...

Warnings: minor act of physical violence (face slapping), slightly sexist remarks (calling another woman a ‘whore’), smut, rough / angry sex, kinda slight dub-con for a minute?, penetrative sex (m+f), minors DNI

A/N: okay so I may be alright with it in the show but incest isn’t something I necessarily want to incorporate into my writing so in this fic I’ve not explicitly explained their specific parentage or heritage! the only thing I’ve really made specific for the reader is that they’re from a highborn family in Westeros, one that would be deemed suitable enough to be betrothed to Aemond, so yeah you could make it so the reader is directly related to Aemond or you could imagine it so there is no direct link, it’s up to you guys as you read it! anyways, thank you so much for the request darling, and I really hope you like it!

You were trying to enjoy your engagement banquet, to enjoy the celebration of your betrothal to none other than Aemond Targaryen. But the only emotion that filled you was a cutting fury as you watched your betrothed on the dance floor, his hands roaming all over that Tyrell girl who had come to visit just for this occasion.

Your knuckles were turning white where you gripped your wine cup so tight with anger. Each laugh she threw his way, each smirk he offered her, each time their hands moved even more boldly over each other’s bodies; it all pooled in your chest like a river of lava hot rage, threatening to erupt.

You and Aemond had grown up together at the Red Keep. And it was safe to say there was no love lost between the two of you, meaning it had been an awful surprise when it was announced that the two of you were to be betrothed. You’d known he had no feelings for you in that way, that were of no interest to him, in that manner anyway. But he could at least not make it so obvious, not rub it in your face as he was so clearly doing now.

Your vision and your mind had become so blurred with these thoughts that you don’t notice Aemond stalking over to where you sat until he was almost right in front in of you.

“Why so sour, my lady?” Aemond smirks sinisterly just as he swipes a cup off the table, taking a swig of wine.

You glare at your betrothed, refusing to dignify him with an answer. You could tell by the wicked glint in his eye that he knew what was wrong. He just wanted to taunt you. To make you admit it out loud.

You keep the searing glare in your eyes even as you force a false smile on your lips. It was a smile you knew Aemond would see right through, not that you really cared. You wanted him to know you were angry.

“Nothing, my prince,” you force through gritted teeth, your jaw clenched as you smile blandly.

“Nothing?” He taunts, raising an eyebrow. “Well, then won’t you bless your betrothed with a dance?” He hums wickedly, extending a hand towards you, bowing slightly.

You turn your head away from him, clenching your jaw even tighter and squaring your shoulders.

“It seems you already have a dance partner. There’s no need for me to interrupt,” you sneer back at him, trying to keep the waiver of pain out of your voice.

“Hmm, is that jealousy I detect, princess?” He teases cockily. “That’s not an emotion very befitting of a lady,” he practically purrs.

You stand up hastily, glaring with fire at Aemond.

“Fuck you. How’s that for befitting a lady?” You hiss. “And I am not jealous,” you add quickly, hoping he wouldn’t catch the warmth creeping into your cheeks.

“You’ve made it perfectly apparent, my dearest betrothed, that you feel nothing for me,” you continue, “I only hope I’ve made it clear that the feeling is mutual,” you lie, your jaw tensing as you attempt to keep back the tears that threatened to spill.

And with that, you spin on your heel and storm out of the main hall.

You only find sanction alone for a few brief minutes before you hear the heavy wooden doors to your room open behind you. You’re infuriated to see it was no less than Aemond that was stalking into your room. You whip round to face him, not bothering to hide the fury on your face.

“What do you want?” You seethe.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he just cocks his head to the side and smirks at you, his eye roaming unashamedly over your body. The silence is palpable, broken only by the steady crackle of flames burning in the fireplace. It’s not long before your anger starts to rage inside you again, burning just as hot as the fire beside you, until finally you snap.

“What do you want, Aemond?” You repeat, letting your anger lace the edge of your voice. “Why are you here? Why don’t you go back to the banquet? Back to that Tyrell whore?” You hiss savagely.

“Ah,” he smiles knowingly, “so you were jealous,” he muses.

“Is it a crime to feel anger over the fact my betrothed so clearly wants to fuck another woman?” You practically shout, your voice going hoarse.

His mouth hardens into a flat line as he looks at you, but he refuses to answer.

“Do you deny it?” Your voice raises to almost a yell.

Flat silence.

“Do you deny it?” You ask again in a breathy whisper, hoping he doesn’t hear the crack in your voice.

“What if I do?” Aemond suddenly sneers, his eyes narrowing. “What if I do want to fuck her?” He hisses.

Before you can think the better of it your hand reaches up, colliding with Aemond’s cheeks in a sharp slap, the contact stinging the palm of your hand.

Aemond lets out the smallest of surprised gasps as his head swivels to the side with the force of your palm. His mouth hangs open slightly, his lips twisted into a sinister smirk; a smirk that seemed to be simultaneously both shocked and impressed, laced with just a hint of anger and mischief. It was a smirk that sent a shiver down your spine. You straighten your back, tilting your chin upwards defiantly, trying to cover the shock you felt at yourself.

Aemond’s head turns back towards you, menacing in the slow and calculated movement. His eye flicks up to meet yours, the cold blue hue somehow alight with flames. Before you can even formulate your next sentence, his hand is gripping your jaw harshly, his fingers digging painfully into your cheeks as he cups your jaw. His smirk twists into a wicked snarl as he leers down at you.

You look up at him defiantly, trying to cover just how much his words had stung, how deep they’d cut. He laughs darkly as he steps towards you, pressing you backwards until your back hit the stone wall. He pushes in right against you, effectively pinning you to the wall. You raise your hand again in panic, readying to land another blow to his smug face.

But this time Aemond is ready, catching your wrist before your palm can once again make contact with his cheek. He sniggers wickedly as he pins that wrist to the wall above you. Your breath hitches in your throat as he looks down at you, a kind of hunger burning coldly in his blue eye. But you keep your glare on him steady, looking at him rebelliously. He hums cockily again just before he ducks his head and his lips ghost over the skin of your throat. His mouth moves over your neck with a surprising tender gentleness, peppering hot kisses across your flushed skin. His other hand, the one not pining yours to the wall, moves to hold onto your waist, his fingers pressing through the fabric of your dress.

This was not exactly how you thought Aemond would react to being slapped, particularly by you.

“Wh- what are you doing?” You whisper, making a pathetic attempt to push him off you, colliding your chest with his.

But Aemond holds his ground, refusing to budge. He then kisses his way up your throat and leans his face in close to yours, his nose brushing against your cheek as his lips graze the shell of your ear.

“You say that the feeling is mutual,” he echoes your words from earlier. “That you don’t want me. But I happen to know you’re lying,” he whispers wickedly.

“I am not lying,” you quip.

“Hmm, tell me you don’t want this then,” he challenges, bumping his nose against yours as he now bites your bottom lip gently.

He kisses you roughly, slamming his lips down on yours. You moan in surprise, earning a satisfied hum from Aemond. His lips move over yours, dominating your mouth, leaving little room for defiance or arguing.

“Tell me you want me stop,” he smirks against your mouth.

His words are a challenge, and you rise to meet the occasion.

“I don’t want this,” you seethe, biting harshly on his bottom lip now, hard enough to draw blood. “I despise you.”

Aemond staggers for a second, his eye blinking wildly as he brings a finger to his lip, examining the drop of blood that pools there. That godforsaken evil laugh sounds from him again as his gaze flicks back to meet yours, his eye impossibly dark with a wicked lust.

“I don’t believe you,” he sneers before kissing you roughly again.

You gasp a moan in surprise, cursing yourself for letting the sound escape you, especially when you hear Aemond’s smug groan in acknowledgment. He kisses you vehemently, forcing his tongue into your mouth.

“If you really don’t want this...” he drawls against your mouth just as his hand hikes up the fabric of your long skirt, exposing your bare thighs.

His hand then ghosts over the exposed skin of your legs, travelling up until his fingers found the apex of your thighs. An involuntary shiver rolls through your body, another traitorous moan leaving your mouth just as Aemond’s fingers push higher and brush between your folds.

“...if you really do despise me, then why are you so wet for me?” He hums smugly.

You huff indignantly, twisting your face away from him as you feel the warmth of blush creep into your cheeks. He laughs again, his warm breath tickling your skin as he moves to kiss and bite at your neck. Your body writhes as Aemond’s fingers rub between your folds, spreading your wetness and collecting it on his fingers, taunting you as he skims over your clit; enough to tease you without letting you gain any real pleasure.

Anger and frustration bubbles in your chest as he touches you, the smugness practically radiating off his body. You let a smug smile of your own twist your lips as you move your free hand, the one not still pinned to the wall above you, to snake between your bodies. You cup Aemond’s groin, palming him, your smile growing as you feel how hard he is beneath his leather trousers.

“If you really wanted to fuck the Tyrell whore...” you challenge him, mocking his smug tone from before, “...how come you’re so hard for me, hmm?” You smirk up at him, batting your eyelashes with maddening playfulness.

Aemond glares down at you, his lips twisted in a snarl. He releases your hand that he’d still had pinned against the wall and swiftly moves to cup your jaw again harshly, his fingers digging into your cheeks as he forces you to look at him. You stare back at him defiantly. He glowers at you for a moment before he’s suddenly manhandling you, turning you around until your front is now smashed against the wall.

You barely have time to react before you hear the sound of metal brushing against fabric and feel the cold sting of steel caress your back. You gasp in shock as you realise what’s happened; Aemond had unsheathed his dagger only to cut through the fabric of your dress before he was tugging at the ruined material, yanking it down your body until you were suddenly naked and helpless in front of him.

He keeps you pinned to the wall; one hand lies flat across your back as he pushes you into the cold stone. His other hand moves to undo the buttons of his leather coat. His hand leaves your back for only a moment as he swiftly shrugs himself free of his garments, leaving his chest bare. You use the moment of freedom to push off from the wall, but Aemond’s hips swiftly drive forward as one hand returns to your back, shoving you roughly back into the wall.

“Uh-uh,” he tuts, “stay still, pet.”

“Fuck you,” you hiss, causing another sinister laugh to rumble through Aemond.

“Hmm,” you can practically feel his smirk burning into you from behind, “I’m getting there, sweetheart.”

He now uses his free hand to undo the fastenings of his leather breeches, tugging them down just low enough to free his leaking and throbbing cock. The next thing you know Aemond’s cock is pressing between your thighs, collecting your wetness just before he angles himself and pushes swiftly inside you. You choke out a strangled moan as he sinks as deep as possible inside you, pushing against you until you could feel the cool leather of his breeches against your ass.

“Fuck,” he exhales sharply as he bottoms out inside you.

He stops only for a second to revel being seated deep inside your tight and wet cunt before he starts fucking you. He gives you no time to adjust, he goes right into a brutal pace, slamming you roughly against the stone wall with each powerful thrust of his hips. Whimpers of surprise and begrudging pleasure fall from your mouth, your fingers curling and scratching at the wall in front of you as you scramble for a grip. Your hands fail to find purchase and eventually you give up, letting one hand lie flat against the stone.

Your other hand reaches up behind you, tangling your fingers in Aemond’s pale blond hair. As you reach up your back arches, pushing your ass out even further, pushing even closer against Aemond’s hips. Your nails scratch at his nape, giving his hair a sharp tug, causing a hiss of pleasure to sound from Aemond.

His hips start to move even faster, crashing against you, fucking impossibly deep with the new angle provided by you arching your back and pushing out your backside. His hands hold onto your hips with an impossibly strong grip, pulling your ass back to meet each of his thrusts. His grip was hard enough you were already sure you’d find bruises there in the morning.

“Fuck,” Aemond hisses again as he feels you clench involuntarily around him. “So wet, and so fucking tight,” he grunts hotly against your ear. “Making all these pretty noises, just for me,” he murmurs as he bites into your shoulder.

You grunt frustratedly at his cockiness.

“Gods,” you seethe, twisting your head back until you could look at Aemond’s face as he fucked you. “I really fucking hate you,” your voice breaks with a quiver as he hits that sensitive spot inside you.

He hums wickedly as he presses his cheek against yours, your heavy breaths mixing.

“You don’t hate this cock though, do you princess?” He taunts darkly. “I can feel you clenching. I know you’re close,” he whispers against your ear, catching your earlobe between his teeth lightly.

You moan loudly, threatening to expose your defeat. He was right; you were close. The pleasure had built almost embarrassingly fast inside you. And furthermore, it was also true that you didn’t hate his cock. You didn’t hate the feeling of his cock stretching you so perfectly, making you feel so deliciously full. You didn’t hate it at all. In fact, you almost think you’d never get enough of it. But you certainly weren’t about to his inflate his ego even more by admitting that.

“Fuck,” you hiss through clenched teeth, “fuck you, Aem- ah- oh- Aemond,” you attempt to quip at him, but your orgasm crashes through you just at that moment, causing your snarky comment to turn into a moan of his name as your body jerks with pleasure.

“That’s it, princess,” he laughs darkly with a grunt as your cunt clenches over him with each surge of pleasure that your high provides.

Aemond keeps fucking you even as you squeeze him tightly. His hips snap faster and faster, his groans getting louder and louder, until he finally stills with a noisy grunt in your ear. Your thighs tremble and another sinful moan leaves you as you feel him twitch inside you, warmth flooding you as he releases within your walls. He rocks his hips slowly against you as he draws out your highs, dragging himself almost all the way out before he slips all the way back inside you. An obscene moan rips from you when you feel a wet stickiness slide down the inside of your thighs as Aemond slowly fucks his cum out of you.

After a moment he collapses against you, his chest colliding against your back as you both lean against the wall. His skin is warm and flushed as he lies almost on top of you, covered with a fine layer of sweat. You hate how nice it actually feels to have him so close to you like this, his body connected with yours in almost all the ways possible.

The two of you pant heavily as you try to catch your breathes. Aemond nuzzles against your neck, placing a few kisses across your shoulder. The surprising tenderness of his actions has a warm and fuzzy feeling stir in your stomach. He stays like that for a moment longer, resting against you, before you feel one of his hands snake up your body. His hands travels up your body, tracing over your hip, the curves of your waist, the side of your breast, before his hand finally curls around your neck, his fingers cupping your jaw and turning your head to look behind you until you were facing him. His eyes examine your face, overtly lingering on your lips.

“You’re mine,” he commands quietly just as he places another searing kiss to your swollen lips, claiming you, once and for all, as his.

When he pulls away, you’re almost taken aback to see a kind of gentleness in his eye, a softness in his face that you’d never seen from him before. The look stirs more butterflies in your stomach. He suddenly looked so young, so sincere. It made you want to reach out to cradle his face, to kiss every inch of his skin that you could access. It was a look that set alight something inside you. Not jealousy like before, but more like some kind of instinctual protectiveness, like you’d go to war just to keep this look of peace and serenity on his face as he looked at you.

“You’re mine,” Aemond repeats in a breathless whisper, “Just as I am yours.”

Masterlist

Send a Request for My One Year Anniversary

Taglist // Join My Nightmare Realm // Ko-fi

#stranger nightmare #hope’s one year anniversary #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond smut #aemond imagine #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond angst #aemond targaryen angst #house of the dragon smut #house of the dragon imagine

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rosetterer · 13 days

Note

How about Buck taking care of a sick or injured Tommy? 🥹

Hi anon! I didn't edit or even read through what I wrote so I hope it makes some kind of sense, lol. Also, apparently, my thought of a short little story is almost 2000 words so... here you go:

The last time Buck was at the hospital had for once been for a good reason: his sister’s wedding. The memory of getting to kiss Tommy in front of strangers without a care in the world was a good addition to the day that Buck definitely thought about every once in a while. Well, actually, Tommy, in one way or another, was constantly on his mind these days.

He just wished that he could’ve kept thinking about their dates that had happened, some better than others, and the ones that were to happen in the future. Instead, his mind was filled with worry, and yet, still Tommy.

He knew, better than anyone, that being the partner of a firefighter could be stressful. Not everyone could handle it.

And now, as he was rushing around the hallways, trying to find the room number he’d been told over the phone, he understood. He wasn’t sure if he could handle this.

”Wait, wait, wait,” a nurse, much shorter than him, stepped in between him and the door that Tommy was supposed to be behind.

”My boyfriend’s in there!” He huffed out, a little more loud and aggressive than he meant to sound.

”Are you Evan?” The nurse asked then, her voice softening.

”Yeah,” he breathed out.

”Well, go on in then. He’s been talking a lot about you,” the nurse said, now smiling, and opened the door for him.

They hadn’t told him details of what had happened but the words ’Tommy’, ’injured’ and ’hospital’ had made him panic and leave his shift early. But Tommy, apparently, was talking and as Buck stepped into the room, he could see that he was also sitting there, chatting with another nurse, and most importantly, he was still breathing.

”Tommy,” Buck gasped out his name and hurried to stand next to his bed.

His hands hovered over Tommy’s shoulders, his chest, and he didn’t know where he could touch him without hurting him. The nurse was placing some kind of bandage on his leg and there were bloodied tissues thrown off to the side.

”What happened? D- Did the helicopter go down?” Buck asked, hearing and feeling the way his voice trembled. ”Or we-were you on the ground? Did you-”

”Evan,” Tommy interrupted him, taking his hands into his. ”I’m okay.”

”You’re in a hospital,” Buck reminded him. ”Do you have a concussion? Do you-”

”Tell him that I’m alright, please,” Tommy asked the nurse, his voice a little raspy now that Buck really focused on it. There was some soot on his face.

”No concussion,” the nurse told him, standing up straight now that the bandage was on. ”But twelve stitches is no joke.”

”Twelve?” Buck asked, genuinely shocked. ”How-”

”Baby,” Tommy interrupted him once again. ”I promise I will tell you all about it once I’ve gotten some rest, alright? I’m exhausted.”

Right. He’d been on a 24-hour shift.

Buck tried his best to pull himself together and cleared his throat, ”Right. Right… Well, can we leave? You’re coming to stay at my place.”

”Evan, you don’t have to-”

”Actually, I’m coming over to your place. The loft has stairs and I doubt it’ll be easy for you to climb them with your leg like that,” Buck wondered out loud, completely ignoring Tommy’s reply to him. ”I don’t have a shift tomorrow and I doubt you’ll be going back to work for at least a few days or until those stitches come off, so-”

”Evan, I’m fine,” Tommy told him once more. ”You don’t have to worry about me.”

”I’ll go get your discharge papers,” the nurse commented quickly before Buck could reply and slipped out of the room.

”You are not fine,” Buck huffed out, sitting on the edge of the bed. ”And you don’t need to pretend like you are, babe. Injuries suck. I would know.”

”Yeah,” Tommy said with a dry chuckle. ”But I swear, it doesn’t hurt much and they told me that I’m allowed to walk normally as long as I’m careful, so I can take care of myself, you don’t have to-”

”I want to,” Buck whispered to him, finally daring to touch Tommy’s shoulder. ”I want to take care of you. I want to come home with you and I want to make sure you have everything you need. You scared me.”

That seemed to finally make Tommy speechless. He looked at Buck for a while and Buck desperately wanted to ask him what he was thinking about but decided to wait instead.

”Okay,” Tommy said eventually.

”Okay,” Buck sighed, relieved.

”I didn’t mean to scare you,” Tommy continued then, resting their foreheads together.

Buck shook his head, ”Not your fault. This is what our job is like. As long as you just keep being as careful as possible, I’ll… I’ll be able to handle it.”

”Right back at you,” Tommy said with a small smile.

Buck pressed their lips together for a short moment.

Tommy was lying on his couch with his leg propped up by pillows that Buck had gathered from around the house. Buck had made a quick meal of the ingredients he’d found in Tommy’s fridge, which often was chicken and vegetables, and that was no different today.

And now, he was just staring.

Tommy had been napping on and off for the past three hours they had been at home. Buck kept his distance, not wanting to disturb his sleep any more than it seemed to be disturbed by his dreams already.

And it was only when he woke up with a gasp more violent than before, Buck finally rushed over to his side. He ran his hands through the curls that had appeared after the very interesting shower session they’d had (nothing sexy, just difficult because of his leg injury) and hushed him.

”It’s okay, you’re at home,” he whispered to Tommy, who was now blinking up at him. ”I’m here.”

Tommy took hold of his free hand, squeezing it so tightly that it almost hurt. He licked his dry lips and swallowed, before resting his head back against his pillow, taking in a deep breath.

”Christ,” he mumbled under his breath.

Buck kept gently scratching his scalp with the tips of his fingers, ”You’re okay, it was just a nightmare. I’m here.”

”Thank God for that,” Tommy whispered to him, somehow holding onto his hand even tighter.

”What did you dream about?” Buck asked once Tommy’s breathing seemed to be under control.

”Today,” Tommy replied, shaking his head a little. ”The call we got was horrible.”

”I’m sorry,” Buck whispered, dropping his hand to Tommy’s neck and rubbing the warm skin there.

”We were called to assist because we were nearby, even though they didn’t air support,” Tommy explained to him. ”Some kid had set the school on fire and with the way the building looked, I doubt it was up to any kind of code. It was like a piece of paper, just burning away.”

Buck nodded, listening.

”There was a spot where the fire was at its worst. Obviously, we started from there,” Tommy continued. ”We went in. There were a lot of kids still stuck inside and we just… We had to get them out. The hallways were confusing… The fire seemed to be everywhere. And the screaming…”

Buck sighed, now gripping Tommy’s hand back, just as tightly.

”The floor gave in, me and two other firefighters went down with it. None of the kids did, thank God,” he said. ”The next thing I remember is being carried out of the building. I don’t think I even hit my head that hard, I mean, I don’t even have a concussion, but… I don’t know if it was just the shock that made me black out for a moment.”

”And what happened to your leg?” Buck asked softly.

”I’m not sure…” Tommy replied. ”Something sharp must have sliced it on the way down. I don’t remember being in pain. Not until I was in the ambulance anyway…”

Buck nodded, ”I was so scared when they called me.”

”I’m sor-”

”No,” Buck stopped him immediately, placing a finger against Tommy’s lips, ”I don’t want you to apologize for getting hurt. I want to know when these things happen and I want you to tell me about them because… I know what it’s like to suffer through these things alone. To keep those thoughts inside your head. I don’t want that for you. You don’t have to do that. Not with me.”

The smallest of smiles spread on Tommy’s lips. He tilted his head a little.

”Noted,” he said, bringing his hand to rest against Buck’s cheek. ”Thank you, baby.”

Buck kissed his palm.

”Do you often get nightmares after something like this happens?”

”Not really, no,” Tommy told him, sounding genuine. ”In my nightmare, you were there. Don’t get me wrong, the whole call was horrible, especially because kids were involved but… In my nightmare, you were there and went down as well and I couldn’t find you-”

He paused to take in another deep breath.

”Hey,” Buck whispered, leaning closer. ”I’m right here.”

”I know,” Tommy said, now looking at him intensely, the way that he often did when he wanted to make sure Buck was truly hearing him. ”The thought of losing you… Terrifies me, Evan. When I met you for the first time, I- I thought you were cute but I couldn’t have realized how much you’d end up meaning to me.”

”You mean a lot to me too,” Buck told him. ”And the thought of losing you terrifies me as well but I guess that’s- that’s the price that we’re going to have to pay for doing what we do and being together. I’m willing to live with that. Are you?”

Tommy nodded, ”Of course, Evan. Of course.”

”Good,” Buck said with a small smile, trying his best to ignore his eyes welling up just the smallest amount. ”Because you’re not getting rid of me. I am not going anywhere, Tommy, and even if the damn universe tries to take me away from you, I won’t let it.”

”That is… a lot,” Tommy chuckled gently.

”It’s the truth,” Buck whispered and pressed their lips together.

He allowed himself to linger, knowing that no one would interrupt them.

”Now rest up. I’ll heat up some food and when you’re feeling like it, we’re going grocery shopping. I know you’re all about working out and all that but I will not have my boyfriend only eating chicken and vegetables,” Buck rambled to him as he got up from his seat and started making his way toward the kitchen.

He turned to look back at him before stepping into the kitchen and found Tommy looking right back at him.

Buck smiled, ”I love you.”

And Tommy smiled right back. ”I love you too, Ev.”

They would be just fine.

#bucktommy #bucktommy fanfiction #prompt fill #rose answers #911 on abc

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justtwotired · 9 months

Note

heyyy, how are you

I was wondering weather you could do a regulus x female reader with prompt 31. so they're both Slytherins and there's a lot of tension between them because they both like each other but are too scared to admit it and then they get into a stupid argument like over hw or a potions assignment and the reader says shut up and when she kisses regulus, he's shocked but pulls her back for another one.

srry that it's long lol

Hi there! I’m great, thanks for the request, it took a while to reply, I’ve been rather busy, but here you are, I hope you’ll like it.

“Reg, can you just focus on the assignment! We have to get it done because McGonagall will murder us if it’s not done today, we already got an extra week!” She says annoyed and he rolls his eyes.

They where in Reg’s dorm, finishing an assignment they chose to do together.

“We’ve been working for hours. I need a break from this stupid assignment, and from you!” He raised his voice slightly as he got up from his seat, Y/n also stood and followed after him.

“What do you mean a break from me? I’ve done nothing but make this assignment, while you just sat around not doing shit!” She says angrily and a bit hurt.

“You are the transfiguration genius, besides, you didn’t even let me touch a bloody quill! Saying you where writing everything!” He turns around and she narrows her eyes.

“Because it looks better if it’s in only one handwriting you blithering idiot! Not to forget I told you to keep reading the book to me, which you did not do!” She started raising her voice aswell.

Regulus grumbled something and then combed his hand trough his black curls for a moment in a rather stressful manner.

Though she was mad, Y/n couldn’t help but blush as she looked away quickly. Though she composed herself and continued.

“What? You have no excuses anymore? Honestly, Black, you should really learn how to finish a fight if you keep starting one.” She points out and he is at a loss for words for a moment.

“Oh I keep starting fights? It’s all my fault now? Obviously I’m going to start fights when you keep ordering me around, and then I want to stop and you still keep going!” He pointed an accusing finger at her as he took a step forward and she one back.

“Merlins balls, I really regret partnering up with you out of all people.” She grumbled, folding her arms over each other. “Should’ve just chosen Evan.” She mumbled, but he heard and he couldn’t help but grit his teeth and silently curse the blonde boy.

“Oh, of course, Evan would be a much better pick then ‘always starting fights Regulus Black’ maybe he would just rip the work in half in a fit of rage, or curse at you for doing something wrong!” He started another kind of fight and her head snapped towards him.

“Hey! Evan wouldn’t do that! What is wrong with you?” She took multiple steps his way and he stayed rooted in his place.

“Oh? What is wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?! You keep accusing me of all sorts of shit and it’s getting annoying, you know.” He yelled and she huffed.

“I’m accusing you because it’s true! There’s no reason to get mad at me for shit you did because I said it out loud!” She poked a finger in his chest and grabbed her wrist and narrowed his eyes.

“Stop.” He said and her angry frown turned into a confused one. “What?” She asked and he sighed. “I said stop, you’re being rather annoying.” He said and her frown became angry once again.

“Oh, I’m the annoying one? If you had listened to a word a I said the past few minutes, maybe you could realise I’m not the problem here!” She hissed angrily.

“Oh right, right, I remember, I was so annoying you would have rather done this project with Evan.” He pointed out and she rolled her eyes at the fact that’s the only thing he could remember.

Why was he even mad about that, was he jealous or something- holy crackers, he was! No, he is! He’s jealous, she couldn’t help but smirk as she thought it.

This smirk didn’t go unnoticed by Regulus and he squeezed her wrist bit. “Maybe I would’ve been better of doing the project with Marcella.” He snarled and her eyes traveled towards his and he saw the storm raging in them.

If there was someone is Slytherin house Y/n hated, it was Marcella, always one upping people, a huge pick me, and she was always over Regulus, talking to him, hugging him almost sitting on his lap.

She knew he was trying to make her jealous, and for Merlin’s sake, it worked.

“Shut up!” She said angrily and he raised his eyebrows. “What’s wrong?” He said mockingly. “I said shut up!” She repeated and he looked a bit surprised.

He was about to open his mouth but she leaned forward and caught him up in a kiss before he could start his sentence.

When she pulled away, he was surprised and most of all, flustered. “Once again, I said shut up.” She said with narrowed eyes. He blinked for a moment, but then he pulled her towards him and kissed her again.

She leaned into his touch and put her hands behind his neck while he put his own on her waist.

They pulled back and she smirked. “I can’t wait to see Marcella’s face when she finds out about this one.”

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crazy4myself · 2 months

Text

No Harm List | Pt. 14

Word count: 5.5k ish

Warnings: explicit language, violence, sexual themes

Summary: You live in a city where crime runs rampant. One day, you save a young boy’s life, not knowing that he is the most powerful crime lord's heir. And you have just been put on the no harm list.

—------

A/N: Hiii lovelies I know it had been literal years since I’ve properly updated. To avoid confusion you may want to go back a few chapters to refresh; I recommend part 12. Also some of the next few chapters may look familiar bc I re-wrote them. But I think you will like this version much better :)

“Why did you avoid me after we kissed?” you asked again, your voice clear. You did not make yourself elaborate. You didn’t tell him how you’ve felt lost and helpless these weeks. And if you could take it back, you would. But if you were honest with yourself, no part of you really wanted to.

You just looked at him expectantly and watched him squirm in the silence. “Because.. I’m a coward,” he offered, looking down at his hands.

Your silence was loud in the air between you, pressuring him to keep talking, “I was scared because BTS has already put you in so much danger already. I mean, we're not even dating, and you were basically held hostage.”

“Don’t pin this on me.” you cut him off. You knew it was a valid point, but it wasn’t his only reason for not talking to you. “Whether or not I endanger myself to date you is a decision for us to make. Why did you avoid me?” you asked again.

“I was scared. I was scared it was an impulsive or pity kiss after being shot. I was scared you didn’t have feelings for me, so I avoided the rejection.”

You quirked a brow in disbelief. Oh, sure, he was scared of you rejecting him. “It’s true!” he insisted.

“And I don’t even know if I could date you,” he added, and you felt a part of your chest ache at the confession.

“I don’t know if I'm capable of dating with my lifestyle. It's not only a safety hazard, but I don't know if I’m capable of giving you any more of myself than I already have. I think about you all the time. And I love spending time with you. But our friendship, where we were before that kiss, it’s all I know how to give people.”

He turned to you, eyes searching your face for any signs of hurt or betrayal, but he couldn’t read your expression as you quietly whispered, “And what if I told you that’s enough?”

Jungkook parted his lips but was at a loss for words.

“I’ve never really dated,” you explained, “And I don't think I know how to. And school is so stressful, and the program is only going to get more complex. I’m not sure I have time to learn and figure out the ‘right’ way to do it.” You paused as you saw his eyebrows furrow in confusion, and you realized how contradictory you were sounding.

“I like you, Jungkook. I like what we have, and I liked kissing you. But before now, I didn’t think I could date you. Not because of the whole ‘gang’ thing. But because I think-” your voice cracked, “I think something in me broke when I lost Daewon. I never,” You paused to swallow.

“I will never let anyone in like that again because it hurt so bad when I lost her. And we weren’t even together romantically. So, imagine how bad it would hurt to lose a partner?” a hot tear rolled down your cheek, and Jungkook reached up to wipe it. You leaned into the comforting heat of his touch as his callused thumb rubbed soothingly on your cheek.

“What I’m trying to say is we both clearly have boundaries and walls. And we both suck at keeping the other out of some of them. So what if we loved eachother in whatever fucked up way we know how and at least reap the benefits of having shitty partners?” You offered with a hesitant smile.

“The benefits being?” Jungkook asked with a quirked brow.

Mischief glinted in your eyes as you smiled at him before lifting onto your knees and crawling towards him on the couch. Jungkook knew this conversation wasn’t over. He knew he should stop you and assure you that nothing about you was broken for being cautious about who you loved. He wanted to tell you that you were good and kind and would make an incredible partner in any capacity, and he was worried he wouldn’t deserve what you were willing to give. But his mind went blank as you inched so close that he could feel your breath against his face as you murmured, “I can think of a few.”

You moved confidently but still grazed your lips against his in the softest touch as if asking for permission.

Jungkook leaned forward, capturing you in the kiss and pulling you into his lap. It was just as hungry as last time, as if he had been waiting to taste you again. Jungkook felt his body come alight at the joy of feeling you pressed against him. His hands rubbed eagerly against your thighs before wandering up your sides, your arms, and your shoulders as he took all of you in.

The touch wasn’t as much for pleasure as it was a claiming. But still, you skin tingled in response. A trail of goosebumps rose in the wake of every brush of his callused hands.

Finally, you broke the kiss to catch your breath. Pressing your forehead against his, you both smiled like idiots as you took eachother in.

Jungkook leaned in to kiss you again, softer this time. As if the raw desperation passed, he would savor every second now that he had you. His hands were firmly on your waist, and his thumbs rubbed in a soothing motion, lower, and lower as they crept under the hem of your shirt.

You felt core core turning molten and couldn’t reflect back on the last time you had been with someone in this way.

Jungkook’s mouth was hot against your neck, trailing down from behind your ear lower and lower, looking for the spot that made-

You gasped and arched against him in pleasure, your chest pressing harder against his.

There it was, his mind thought in primal satisfaction, as he bit down right above your pulse point, making you writhe against him further. He had been replaying the sounds you made during your last kiss in his head an embarrassing number of nights he was alone. He wanted to map your body right now and learn every spot that made you sigh and moan for him. His hands had migrated further up your ribcage, your skin flushing hot beneath his touch as his thumbs swiped just below your bra.

He was about to reach around to unclasp it when a cough from the kitchen cut his ministrations short. You both turned in shock to see Yoongi placing an expresso pod in the coffee machine.

“J-Hope is in the garage you might wanna,” he waved his hand in the air in a vague gesture to separate. “Or don’t,” he said with a shrug, “I think his reaction would be funny.”

You were scrambling off Jungkook's lap and shoving a pillow between the two of you. Your lips were swollen and bruised from the kiss. You straightened your shirt, which was more rumpled from your earlier fight than anything, and placed a pillow between the two of you as if to protect your chastity with seconds to spare before the sound of Hoseok’s footsteps echoed from the garage. You locked eyes with him as soon as he made it in the entryway. You could feel the anger radiating off of him as he entered the room.

“What happened?” He demanded.

Jungkook calmed his breathing, grabbing the pillow barrier to instead place on his lap as he reminded himself that the bakery was attacked. Hoseok had no clue that Jungkook was just kissing his best friend and that he was not in danger.

“Hobi!” you were up in an instant, ignoring his foul temper as you wrapped your arms around him.

He caught your embrace effortlessly, his eyes tracking you and then noting Jungkook and his new emotional support pillow as he squeezed you tightly before letting you step back.

“Are you okay?” you both ask in unison before cracking a smile.

“I’m fine I just had to lay low. What happened at the bakery tonight?” Hoseok pushed.

Your smile faltered for a moment. “There was an ambush, they didn’t touch me. I can’t say the same for them, but they’ll be fine.” you started.

Hoseok’s brow rose at your implication, “You took out four of the Black Tips best men?” he asked. He didn’t sound disbelieving, he sounded… impressed and maybe a little proud.

“Only two, and I wouldn’t call them the best. Why are you here if you’re in hiding?” you asked, ignoring the way his approval warmed you chest. “And why were you in hiding? And when did you dye your hair?” you pushed. Reaching up to touch the murky black locks. It was obviously box-dyed and barely covered the bright red it was days earlier.

Hoseok smiled tight-lipped before moving to the couch, “I’ll tell my story if you promise to tell yours when Jin and RM get back.” He offered.

You refrained from pointing out that the reason you were at the Den in the first place was to do exactly that. You were too eager to get some answers from Hoseok. Who quickly filled you in on the details of the fake assassination attempt that ended in a not-so-fake assassination charge. That led to Hoseok and Yoongi hiding out in some shitty safe house an hour outside the city, living off Raman noodles and re-dying their hair to more subtle colors.

By time Hoseok had finished, the other members of BTS began filing in. Hoseok told you they had only been called out of hiding so Yoongi could manage the video footage of the bakery and nearby security cameras for the police department and insurance claims. Jin wanted to edit out any evidence of a gang-related interrogation, or else their relationship was going to get a lot more complicated with the local authorities.

But apparently, there was no need. Yoongi was fuming when he returned from his office, informing the others that while the security cameras were able to stream live footage to their system, the memory had been wiped from BTS’s computers.

He still had to cover their tracks of abducting the Black Tips on any city cameras. But otherwise the gang was relying on you as the sole witness to the night's events.

Well, you and the four Black Tip members who attacked you. The men were currently stored away in a safe house under the greenhouse on the Den’s property. But with the excessive exposure to Jimin’s smoke, there was a chance their memories would be unreliable, if not nonexistent.

Jimin couldn’t even estimate a wake time for the men due to the level of gas they inhaled. It could be days before anyone could get answers out of them.

When Jin and Jimin finally returned from filing their reports to the authorities, everyone settled in the living room to hear your account. You recalled the night's events as detailed as possible, telling them how the man in the suit tried to buy your loyalty from BTS and describing him to the best of your ability.

To your relief, they all listened quietly while you spoke, and when you were done, it was V who helped you fill in any gaps you may have missed by prompting you with questions. His presence was steady and soothing, and you realized he was giving you a glimpse of the spider at work. The others didn’t dare interrupt him or ask their own questions, they trusted him to gather every drop of information.

What did the man in the suite look like?

Did he ask about BTS’s current movements?

What ‘sins against the city’ did he want to hold BTS responsible for?

What information did he want you to report back?

You didn’t have any answers to half of those questions, confessing you spent most of your time stalling and trying to get the man to reveal why he was bribing you of all people. You were convinced at the time that the alarm had alerted BTS of your situation and that they would arrive at any minute. The thought of the man getting away didn’t seem like a possibility.

And a small part of you, despite promising yourself you owed BTS nothing outside of your contract, couldn’t help but feel like this oversight was a failure on your part. Somehow, you let the gang down.

Jin clarified that the alarm had been disabled along with the cameras hours prior to the break-in. It was by luck and V’s intel that they managed to get to you when you did.

“And isn't that a big fucking problem?” Hoseok growled, unable to stay quiet any longer.

He stepped forward, glaring in Jin and Jimin’s direction, “Do you realize how irresponsible it was to schedule her on a closing shift alone.” He accused.

“Hobi, it’s fine I worked late all the time at my last job,” you started trying to diffuse the situation.

Everyone in the room refrained from pointing out how well that had gone for you.

“No, it’s not fine. This isn’t like your other job. What if they tried to get information from her at that moment, and she had nothing to give? What if V didn’t call in time? There are a thousand different ways this could have gone wrong. She is not a member of this gang,” Hoseok snapped.

You flinched slightly at his tone.

“She doesn’t have the tattoo. Debt and favors aside, she should not be this deep in BTS’s affairs. She should not be alone in our businesses. That bakery is a cover for Jimin’s lab and loitering drug money. Why the hell would you think it okay to leave her alone there?” He continued.

Jin’s face was like a stone as Hoseok lectured him, not wanting his own emotions to invalidate his brothers. “You're right.” Jin agreed, and you could see the full weight of tonight's events take a toll on him as his shoulders sagged and he turned to you with guilt in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry I put you in danger, Ella. We will never let it happen again.” Jin promised his voice was soft but earnest.

“It sure as hell won’t because she’s not working for you anymore.” Hoseok snapped.

“That's not your call to make,” you argued.

Hoseok turned to you, frustration evident on his face, “Do not fight me on this. You know tonight was too dangerous.”

“She was the dangerous part of tonight. She was fine.” Jungkook pushed, standing next to you.

“Stay out of this!” You and Hoseok snapped in unison.

Jungkook’s face puckered like he tasted something sour, but he sat back on the couch's arm.

“Tonight, you were lucky that man wanted you alive. He could change his mind at any point why can’t you see the danger in that.”

“I'm bound by contract to keep working off my debt,” you argued as you turned to RM for backup.

RM crossed his arms, taking in you and Hoseok as he contemplated his response.

“Blood debt runs deeper than civil law,” Hoseok said before his leader could voice his opinion. And a tense stillness fell across the room.

“Have you forgotten she’s on the No Harm List? That we are supposed to be willing to die for her.” he pushed. The whole gang's demeanor changed at the reminder Jimin downcast his gaze as his shame sank into his gut.

“I don’t want that,” you pushed, horrified, “Take me off the list I don’t - I did not ever want that.”

“Daewon, please, why won’t you let me protect you!”

The room fell quiet as his sister's name echoed through the room.

Your chest ached as understanding settled in, “Oh, Hobie,” you sighed.

“We’ll take a vote,” RM ordered, unable to stand another minute of this fighting. “We have damage control to take care of, and everyone is tired. We meet first thing, and we will decide as a team what we should do about Ella.”

Hoseok’s smile was mirthless at his boss’s half-ass attempt to placate him. “See you bright in early,” he said with a salute before turning for the garage.

You stared after your best friend, hesitant to follow him. “And do I get a say in that decision?” you asked RM softly.

RM sighed, “Your opinion will be considered when we vote. You will have full control over how we go about re-negotiating your contract if it comes to it.”

Assuming that was the best you could get, you sighed, eyes flicking over to Yoongi who flanked RM’s left, his arms crossed and his expression stoic.

“I guess I’ll go catch up with Hobi,” you offered hesitantly, not knowing what to do. Yoongi met your eyes but said nothing. Taking Yoongi’s silence as his answer, you squeezed Jungkook’s hand in a silent farewell before you followed Hoseok to the garage.

Hoseok kept his eyes forward as you approached his vehicle. He was sitting in his Porsche the engine purred a soft accompaniment to the rhythmic thump of his music.

“Can I catch a ride?” you asked, already settling into the passenger's seat and buckling before he could give an empty “Sure.” in response.

You didn’t ask where he was taking you as he sped out of the Den’s parking lot and into the streets of the seventh ward. His options were limited if he was still a wanted man, and you figured you would end up at your apartment by the end of the night.

“We need to pick up another box of hair dye. Whoever did yours did a shitty job,” you said, reaching to run your fingers through his hair.

The unique thing about your friendship with Hoseok was you two were forced to mourn together when you were getting close. Meaning you both had a talent for ignoring the elephant in the room and settling into a normal life where you talked around the big issue.

It wasn’t always healthy to ignore your problems like that. But for you and Hoseok, it worked. After big changes like this, you both had a habit of turning off your feelings for a while and giving each other space and time to process instead of forcing each other to talk about an issue before you were ready.

It’s what you did with Daewon’s death. It’s what he did for you when you first found out about BTS.

So tonight, you could make space for him. The two of you could go through the rest of the night without talking about the bakery or BTS at all if he didn’t want to.

You glanced out the window, realizing what street he was turning on.

“We’re going to see Dae?” you asked, surprised as he pulled to the side of the road outside the city’s botanical garden. The gardens were closed, which was no surprise considering it was close to one in the morning. But that was never a problem in the past.

“We didn’t visit her on her anniversary this year,” Hoseok said simply.

You both visited separately, though you wouldn’t point it out. At the time of Dae’s anniversary, you were still giving him the silent treatment for lying to you about BTS. You had visited Daewon’s grave on your own and saw that it had already been cleaned, and her favorite flowers decorated the small plot, meaning Hoseok had already beat you there.

At the time, you had felt guilty for the relief you felt in your chest. Visiting her that day came with the fear that you and Hoseok would cross paths before you were ready to face him. And you think Dae would have been disappointed to see the two of you arguing on top of her grave.

Because of that, neither of you had gone through with your tradition of robbing the botanical gardens.

Your freshmen year of college was filled with many adventures since moving to Alcor was still a novel experience, but it also came with many nights of being homesick. While Gautier was technically a territory of Kros, the country Alcor resides in, the cultures were very different. And the climate was shockingly different in the cold and wet port city where the smell of sea salt was on the breeze, you missed the clean and fresh scent of blooming heathers and rosemary in the spring, and the taste of sweet figs right off the tree in the summer time.

One night, when you were suffering from a rather nasty bout of homesickness, Daewon took you to the botanical gardens and taught you how to break in at night. At the back of the property, a mighty magnolia tree bloomed outside the garden's fence. It was almost too easy to scale the tree’s sturdy branches and dismount on the other side of the garden. The fences were lined with countless bamboo trellises fortified with different vine plants, making for an easy escape anywhere inside the garden.

You remember how your heart fluttered the first night the two of you broke in. You had to make an effort to hold in your nervous giggle as you scaled the magnolia tree and landed on the mossy lawn of the prehistoric trail, which was lined with ZZ plants and ferns with curling fronds. Sneaking your way through the trail and across the lawn of irsis leads you past the desert exhibit and to a greenhouse that honored the terrain of the eastern colony you called home.

The air was warm but much dryer thanks to the special ventilation system, but despite the heavy humidity missing from the air, the small shrub like plants thrived in the rocky soil, filling the air with the fragrant and aromatic scent of rosemary, lavender, and heathers.

You remember how a knot built in the back of your throat as you ran your fingers over the woody rosemary bush, taking in the earthy pine-like scent. Dae sat with you and listened to you go on about your childhood home for hours.

The giant rosemary bushes that were planted around your house were a staple in your kitchen and bathroom growing up. Your mother was always placing sprigs in her hair products, using it as her own perfume.

You told her the story of how your dad always tried to recreate your mother's french toast recipe on your birthday, but he always forgot to sweeten it so it just tasted like egg bread.

You told her stories of how your father courted your stepmom and how you watched them fall in love again, and build a new family together. One you didn’t fit into as snuggly, not for lack of love in your home, but because you were so much older than your siblings and you had your own dreams and life you were ready to find in Alcor.

Dae held you when you cried, then jokingly played the national anthem to Gautier on her cell phone. You guys laughed and danced around the greenhouse as she struggled to keep up with the lyrics.

The memory brought warmth to your chest years later, just like all the other memories with Daewon. But beneath the warmth, a sharp ache still lingered. Daewon wasn’t perfect by any means; she had a temper like her brother, and she could brood like no other.

But she was good. Daewon was good and fun and she loved so fiercely and encouraged and celebrated her friends. She was the type of person to buy you an ice cream after you failed a test and a cake if you passed.

She was the first person to encourage and support you in your adult life, even in scandalous situations like bringing you a spare set of clothes to the frat house so your walk of shame was a bit less shameful the next morning.

“God I miss her,” you sighed as you approached the magnolia.

“Me too. Every day.” Hoseok agreed quietly as he watched you scale the branches.

He was a worry wort and always made you go first in case you slipped.

“Did Daeown ever know? About BTS?” you asked curiously as both climbed higher in the magnolia tree.

“She knew some of it, like selling the spare car parts, and she could obviously guess some more once I got the tattoo, but she didn’t know everything.” He offered as you reached the branch just past the tall fence that protected the gardens.

‘She didn’t know I shot people,’ she could almost hear Hoseok say.

You ducked low as you approached the branch that led into the garden. Grabbing onto the limb above you to balance yourself, you carefully made your way forward as the branch dipped under your weight.

“Careful,” Hoseok warned.

“Whatever,” you said, rolling your eyes as you let go of the limb stabling you, tightening your core as you jumped from the tree. It was less than a 5-foot drop, but you kept your knees bent as you landed, feeling the impact reverberate back into your legs. You hissed as the pins and needles feeling swarmed the balls of your feet.

“You gotta tuck and roll,” Hosek laughed as you wattled out of his way.

You watched as he lowered himself on the branch the muscles in his body tensed before he sprung forward, extending his legs with his knees still slightly bent.

You sometimes forget the athleticism Hoseok hones in his body. You take for granted how smooth and precise his movements are. It was something you still couldn't quite replicate when you trained with Jungkook. But as you admired your friend, you wondered if he was responsible for training Jungkook to master his own smooth agility.

As his feet touched the ground, he pushed his momentum forward, curling into a ball and rolling across the grass.

“Ow fuck!” he exclaimed as he backrolled over a raised root of a nearby tree.

“And that's why I don’t tuck and roll,” you teased, walking towards him, the ach in your legs nearly forgotten.

You wandered out of the exhibit and towards the iris lawn. Dae’s favorite flowers were blue irises. She used to always pick a few of the flowers any time they visited the garden and keep a vase of them in the dorm room.

“You know they’re bulbed plants one day, we can go to the store and get our own,” Hoseok suggested.

“It’s not the same she says they smell better when they’re picked from the garden here,” you insisted.

“It’s not like she’ll be smelling these,” Hoseok grumbled under his breath but obliged when you held out your hand for his pocket knife.

The theft was quick and efficient. You cut loose five of the flower's long stems and returned back to the fence. Taking care that the flowers were unharmed as you shimmied up one of the trellises.

You were both back in the car within 15 minutes and driving down the road to her grave. The visit was a quiet one. Not tearful like in years past, and for a moment as the two of you kneeled and placed the flowers against the tombstone, you didn’t know if either of you were going to speak at all.

“Do you think you’ll ever leave the city,” Hoseok asked quietly.

You looked at him, startled, “You know my dream is to be a travel doctor,” you replied.

“Is that still your dream?” He asked.

You were quiet for a moment, your eyes searching his face for any indication of where he was going with this.

“Y/N, you were determined once. Focused. You lived and sacrificed for that dream and would never jeopardize it. And lately, you’ve-” You closed your eyes as you caught on to his intentions.

“Continued to sacrifice for it,” you interrupted him, “everything I’ve done, the debt I have isn’t so I can play gangster. It’s so I can finish school. The moment I graduate and the moment I pay off my debt, I’m leaving the city.” You assured.

“You could leave now,” he urged.

“Take a residency somewhere I know your grades are good enough for that accelerated program.”

“I can’t run out on my debt. They will find me.” You hissed.

“They won’t. Jungkook will pull RM off your trail, and they can’t send me after you. I would go with you. You’re the only family I have.” Hoseok pushed his voice urgent, “Things are getting bad. There’s a turf war brewing, and the Black Tips aren’t working alone. I don’t think that man who came after you tonight is from the west side. If power players from the East are involved, this whole city will go to shit. This isn’t a petty fight; people will die. The inner circle and whoever is affiliated with them will have a target on their back.”

“What about Yoongi?” You asked.

Your question was double-sided. You knew about Hoseok’s feelings for him and his unwillingness to move on from him over the years. Hoseok was always privet with the gang side of his life, but even before you knew of BTS, you knew of Yoongi and the web of feelings he carried with him. And you also knew of the second's ability to track down and find anyone. If RM wanted either of you dead, Yoongi would find you in a heartbeat and probably had the skill set to dispose of you himself, too.

Hoseok's eyes downcast “He would let us go.”

“You’re expecting a lot of loyalty from someone you plan to betray.” You pushed.

“You’re putting up a hard fight for someone who claims they don’t have a real reason to stay,” he pressed back.

You looked away from your best friend. The man who treated you like his own sister from the beginning. Who was ready to give everything up and run to make sure you were safe.

Why weren’t you willing to give up your fraction of this world in return?

“Perhaps things are more complicated than I give myself credit for. I kissed Jungkook, and I can’t just leave until I figure that out.” You admitted embarrassed. You braced yourself for the teasing or the anger. But Hoseok's face was calm as he responded his eyes ernst and urgent.

“I fucked Yoongi,” Hoseok countered. “If I don’t leave now. I never will.”

A/N: I haven’t updated in so long I totally forgot how tags and formatting work on this post. Hopefully it finds the intended audience… let me know if you read and enjoyed it!!! Xoxox

Tag List

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acourtofswiftiesandshadowdaddies · 4 months

Note

Hi, could I request a Bodhi fluff prompt number 1? I think it would be something he would say to his partner, since Xaden mentionned that Bodhi was possesive in Iron flame when he saw Violet wearing his flight jacket.

I hope you don't mind that I'm joining your two requests together 💕

Second request: "Hi! Could I request a Bodhi smutt prompt 31? Like maybe he came to visit after graduating Basgiagth? Thanks in advance, there's not enough Bodhi fics :))"

Missed You

Bodhi Durran x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, swearing, fluff, breeding kink?

Prompts: Fluff - "You look really good in my clothes”, Smut - "Show me how much you missed me.”

Summary: Bodhi was stationed a post far away from you, and you hadn't expected him back so early. He intends to show you just how much he has missed you.

a/n: i agree, bodhi does not get enough love, i haven’t read fourth wing or iron flame in a while so sorry if things aren’t exactly the same 🫶🏻 as always unedited

I stand in the kitchen, with my hands on my hips, my eyes glaring at the ingredients I have laid out on the counter. Bodhi is coming home tonight after 2 months stationed at some post.

Gods I missed him.

“I could make a cake,” I mumble to myself.

No, I’ve done that too many times.

I continue glaring at the ingredients as if they have some hidden answer in them.

“Fuck it I’m making the cake,”

I had just put the cake in the oven, elbows deep in flour.

The door unlatched but I couldn’t hear it over the sound of the tap running.

“Hi my love,” I hear a deep voice behind me. Gasping, I run to Bodhi, jumping into his arms.

Kissing him hard on the lips, I savoured the taste of him. His strong arms wrapped under my thighs to hold me up. Pulling away, I try to catch my breath from that knee weakening kiss.

If Bodhi hadn’t been holding me, I definitely would’ve fallen.

“Missed you” he mumbles against my lips, I giggle and whisper “I missed you too baby”.

“Oh shit I have flour all over me,” I stammered, “I’m gonna get it all over your clothes”.

“I don’t care,” he retorts pulling me closer “Did you know how beautiful you look?” he gazes deep into my eyes. “Even like this?” I chuckle.

“Especially like this, makes me wanna get you all nice and round with my kids,” he groans out.

“What are we waiting for then Lieutenant, show me how much you missed me,” I commanded.

A cheeky grin crosses his lips, “Gladly”.

Gripping onto his shirt, I yelp as he carries me over his shoulders and runs up the stairs and to our bedroom.

"Bodhi, I swear to fucking god if you drop me, I'll gut you," my head bobbles as his grip on my thighs tightens. I gulp at the feeling, hopefully he doesn't notice.

"Have more faith in me darling," his hand loosens and just as I'm about to start yelling again it comes in contact with my ass, a loud slap echoing.

"Bodhi!" I gasp, about to lecture him again when I realise that I can pinch his butt.

And that's exactly what I do. His reaction is more milder to mine, probably because he isn't being carried over someone's shoulder.

"Didn't know you were an ass kind of lady, sweetheart," he chuckles.

"It's hard not to be when my husband has such fat ass," I grin.

He pushes me against the door and kisses me hard. His lips find mine in a hungry, passionate kiss, his lingering touch conveying the depth of his longing. The intensity of his desire for me is palpable as he holds me tightly, cherishing the moment of reunion after being apart for so long.

I deepen the kiss, my lips hungry and insistent against his. With a firm yet gentle touch, he begins to skillfully remove my clothing, his hands tracing the curves of my body with reverence. Each garment falls away, revealing my bare skin to his hungry gaze.

As my body is exposed to him, he takes a moment to stare at me. "Bloody hell, you're stunning," he whispers, his voice filled with genuine awe. The way his skin glows under the dim light, the way my curves beckon him closer, it's all too tempting to resist.

I begin to rid him of his own clothing, each piece discarded with urgency. The room fills with the sound of fabric hitting the ground as the anticipation builds between us. I pull away from the kisses, admiring the sight of Bodhi towering over me.

Closing the distance between us, I pull him into another passionate kiss, our bodies pressed together. My hands roam his exposed skin, exploring every inch with a mix of passion and hunger. The heat between us intensifies, and I can feel the electricity building in the air as our desire intertwines.

In this moment, there's nothing else that matters. It's just him and me, consumed by a primal need for each other.

"Please Bodhi I need you" I whimper out.

He pauses for a moment, his intense gaze locked with mine. I can see the raw desire in his eyes, the vulnerability in my plea. A flicker of a smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he leans in closer, his voice a low, gravelly whisper.

"You need me that bad love?" he responds, my tone laced with a mix of arrogance and satisfaction. "Well, lucky for you, I'm right here."

Without further hesitation, he guides us towards the bed, his touch firm and commanding. Bodhi presses me down onto the mattress, his body hovering above mine. My hands roam his body, igniting every nerve with a teasing touch. I can sense his anticipation, his craving for the connection we share.

Leaning in, I capture your lips once more in a searing kiss, my tongue dancing with his. I can feel the urgency building as our bodies meld together, the heat between us becoming undeniable. With each touch, each caress, he makes it clear that he's here to fulfill my every desire.

"Tell me, love," he murmurs against my skin, his breath hot against my ear. "Tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you. I'll take you to places you've never been before."

"I want you in me, Bodhi" I whine out.

A wicked grin spreads across his face as he hears my plea. The sound of my need ignites a primal hunger within him, pushing him further into his dominant nature. Bodhi positions himself between my legs, my gaze locked with his as he slowly enters me, inch by inch.

"You want me in you, love?" he growls, his voice filled with a mix of satisfaction and possessiveness. "You're going to get exactly what you need."

With each thrust, our connection deepens, savoring the way his cock hits that spot in me. My moans and whimpers echo in the room, fueling his desire to give me pleasure beyond measure. He sets a rhythm, his movements steady and powerful, ensuring that every stroke hits the right spot.

As he watches I surrender to the pleasure, he praises me in his rough, sex-laced voice. "That's it, love. Take me. Take all of me," he encourages me, his voice laced with a mix of dominance and adoration. "You feel fucking amazing. So tight and wet for me."

He continues to move within me, my hands scratching into your back, pulling him impossibly close to me. I revel in the feeling of our bodies moving together in perfect harmony, lost in the intoxicating dance of pleasure.

"You were made for this, love," Bodhi whispers, his voice husky with desire. "Made to take my cock. To be fucked by me. You're doing such a good job."

I lose myself in the moment, completely consumed by the passion between us, as we both chase the peak of pleasure, the world around us fading into oblivion.

"Fuck, I'm so close, Bodhi," I moan out.

I can feel the build-up of pleasure coursing through our bodies, the tension reaching its peak. His grip on my hips tightens as he quickens the pace, his thrusts becoming more urgent, fueled by my desperate moans and pleas for release.

"Give in, love," he growls, his voice filled with a mix of need and dominance. "Let go for me. Come undone."

He continues to drive into me, his movements becoming more relentless, chasing both our climaxes. The room is filled with the sounds of flesh agains flesh, the intoxicating symphony of pleasure.

As I feel the waves of pleasure crash over me, I can no longer hold back. I let go, my release washing over me in a powerful surge. "Fuck, Bodhi," I moan, my voice filled with satisfaction. "Shit".

I watch as his body tenses, his groans growing louder as Bodhi reaches his own climax.

"You're beautiful when you come," he whispers in my ear, his voice filled with awe and admiration. "Absolutely fucking beautiful."

We ride out the waves of pleasure together, our bodies intertwined in the aftermath of our passionate union. The room is filled with heavy breaths and the lingering scent of our desire, a testament to the intensity of our connection.

As we come down from our high, he gathers me in his arms, holding me close. "You were made for this, love," he murmurs, his voice filled with tenderness. "You're mine, now and always."

Bodhi got up to clean us off, he comes back with a t shirt of his own and put it over me. "You look really good in my clothes," he grins.

"Can't say the same for you,"

a/n hope u liked this, the cakes probably burnt😭💀

#bodhi durran #bodhi durran x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing smut #rebecca yarros #acourtofswiftiesandshadowdaddies #iron flame #iron flame smut #the empyrean #smut #the empyrean series #post fourth wing #post iron flame

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velvethopewrites · 8 months

Text

The sob story with this is that I wrote this yesterday and it got deleted before I could save it. I wanted to die cry, basically. Somehow I managed to re-create most of it, after working on it all damn day. (I basically ended up writing over 6,000+ words in one day. Yowza) I still feel as though the first version was better, but…no one knows that but me, I suppose. (And my partner, who got to read it right before the horrors happened). Regardless, I am proud of this and proud of myself for not giving up when it really would have been easy to. So huzzah to the fickle hand of fate and all that stuff.

For Suptober 2023 prompt “starlight”

I tag @fellshish and @canonblastedships and @clarkenting for being super cool reblog buddies, lol (which is just a thing I made up) This is the longest destiel fic I’ve written yet and it will be my first official AO3 destiel! (As soon as I remember how to do that, oy)

Edited: Now with Spiffy AO3 Link! Here!

The Starlight

There were three types of people that visited the Starlight Lounge — drunks, people desperate to score, and the employees that made their bread and butter trying to tame the other two.

Dean Winchester, unfortunately, was a member of that third group. Oh, sure, Dean had been known to put away a fair bunch of liquor in his day, and sure, Dean had definitely been known to do the Bedroom Rodeo whenever the opportunity presented itself. Hell, back when he’d first started at the Starlight he’d often been three types at once. Work, drink, get laid. Sometimes, not even in that order.

But that was past Dean. Current and newly mature Dean (hah) just wanted to work, go home, eat and fall into his bed. Working at the Starlight wasn’t that bad – it had fairly decent pay and it was often interesting. And like everyone else, Dean had bills to pay and he gave more than his fair share to Sammy. Not that Sam really needed it anymore; he was busy working as a law clerk downtown, putting himself through school. But still, Dean wanted to help as much as he could and besides it was his brotherly duty. Heh. Duty.

Tonight, due to the cold and rainy weather, the bar was fairly empty and business had been slow. There was only one of his regulars, a writer by the name of Chuck crying into his notebooks at the back of the bar. To be honest, Dean had never seen Chuck write a damn thing but the man sure could put scotch away like a pro. There was also a young couple making out in one of the booths near the restrooms. He’d been keeping an eye on them most of the night, actually, making sure no one lost any clothing. The Starlight didn’t need a public indecency charge on the books. At least, not so soon since the last one, at any rate.

Dean yawned and finished cleaning up the bar, hoping Chuck and the couple on their way to Soft-Porn Town would soon be leaving. Maybe Dean could even push them on their way a bit early, so he could get home at a decent time, for once. As he walked over towards Chuck to perhaps lightly suggest the writer hit the road, the double doors of the bar blew open – bringing in the rain, the cold rush of the wind and a new customer in a beige trench coat with seriously fucked up hair. Great.

Dean sighed and turned back around as the new guy slumped onto the first stool at the bar. His dark brown, messed up hair looked even worse up close, and he had a scowl on his face as he glared down at the bar in front of him.

“Whiskey. Neat,” Messy-Hair said, voice low and very rumbly.

Dean pulled down a clean glass and poured some of their nicer whiskey into it. Dude looks like he could afford it, at any rate. He had a nice suit on under the coat, now that Dean could properly see it and his watch was one of those big clunky things that could probably tell the time on Jupiter or some shit like that. The man’s hand reaches for the glass before Dean has barely pushed it forward. He throws back the drink in record time and hits the bar with it so that it makes a loud thunk.

“Another one.”

Dean shrugged as the man kept glaring down at the bar as though it contained all the answers to life and everything else; Dean knew for a fact that it didn’t. It didn’t even have a ‘42’ scratched into it or anything. (RIP Douglas Adams)

This time the man just wraps his hand around the glass, his fingers clutching at it and woah, Dean thinks, dude’s got some huge fucking hands. They’re big and they’re strong looking. The fingers are nice and long and graceful and oh, oh, oh. Maybe it’s a kink, or maybe it’s a preference, but Dean loves hands. Manly looking mitts like Messy-Hair here and even smaller, more delicate hands like on most women, with pretty nail colors. But Dean’s not choosy.

He sees motion out of the corner of his eye and notices Chuck signaling that he’d like to pay up. Glancing at Messy-Hair he figures he has a few minutes before having to pour him another so he sets the bottle down and heads over to the other side.

“All right there, Chuck?”

“Yeah, yeah, thank you, Dean.”

The older man is flipping through his wallet and counting out his cash slowly. Dean wipes the bar and puts Chuck’s last glass into the bucket for later cleaning.

“Write anything tonight?” Dean always asks this question. It’s like a little game he and Chuck play because it always has the same answer.

“No,” Chuck says looking up at him. He places his finger to his temple solemnly, almost like he’s holding a gun. “But I did a lot of work up here.”

He always gives Dean this look as though Dean should know exactly what he’s talking about. But, of course, Dean never does. He likes to read but he sure as hell would never attempt to write. Personally, he thinks Chuck is sort of crazy, but hey, to each their own, right?

Chuck pushes his notebooks into his old canvas bag on the bar. It’s bulging with everything he carries with him and looks fit to burst. Dean supposes that writer’s block is heavy business.

Chucks nods goodnight as he slips his bag over his shoulders, buckling a bit under the weight. Dean watches as he wobbles away and he’s not sure if it’s from the alcohol or the bag. He’d normally be worried (hey, no bar can stay in business if all its clientele got themselves killed), but he knows Chuck lives nearby. He’ll be all right and probably in his same spot tomorrow evening. He puts Chuck’s money into the till and realizes he tipped Dean more than usual. He really did have had a good night, then.

He notices the couple trying to break the world record for smooches in a single night are getting up and putting on their jackets. Maybe Dean can get out early; he’s got the DVR set for Dr Sexy already, but he wouldn’t say no to catching it live for once.

Glancing over he sees Messy-Hair is now resting his head on the bar, but he lifts it as the doors bang shut behind Chuck, the cold burst of wind making his hair looking even more disheveled. Dean heads back over to see if he needs a refill and is suddenly struck dumb by the other man finally looking at him. Holy Mother of Blue, those are some eyes. The dude is handsome. Like old-time movie handsome. Strong jaw, with a smattering of scruff, pink soft lips and eyes that look like they can see into your soul, no, scratch that, not see, but pierce. Dean swallows roughly and picks up the whiskey bottle.

“Hey, uh, it’s getting late. One more for the road?” Dean assumes the dude doesn’t know the Starlight is technically open until midnight. Assumes, hah. More like prays.

Blue-Eyes stares at him and frowns. “I thought this establishment closed at midnight.”

“Er, yeah. I suppose it does.”

“Then I’ll take another,” Blue-Eyes pauses and holds out his glass. “And keep them coming for the next forty-five minutes, barkeep.”

Dean blinks at the old-fashioned word and pours another round. They stare at each other until he hears a giggle and a clearing of a throat. He looks over to see the couple and wonders how long they’ve been waiting. Judging from the churlish look on the guy’s face and the barely contained laughter emanating from the girl, it’s been awhile. He settles their tab and takes their money (lousy tip, of course) as the two saunter past Blue-Eyes and escape out into the night. Well, at least Dean can see it’s stopped raining.

Making up his mind, he follows them from behind the bar and locks the door after them. He flips off the sign, too. He may be stuck here with Blue-Eyes, but he’ll be damned if he’ll let someone else come meandering in to make him get home even later.

He comes back to stand in front of his customer and makes a decision. Pulling down another glass, he pours some of the whiskey into it and sighs as the warmth of it hits his system. What do they always say about good whiskey? It should warm the cockles of the heart, or something like that. Not that Dean actually knows what a cockle is, but hey, it went down smooth.

He realizes Blue-Eyes is watching him and Dean decides to bite the bullet. He’s tired, bored and probably on his way to cranky town if Blue-Eyes keeps his word about the next forty-five minutes.

“So, what brings you out on a cold and rainy night like tonight, Mr, uh…what’s your name? I can’t keep calling you what I’ve been calling you in my head.”

The other man squints and tilts his head at Dean like a tiny, confused bird. And no, Dean doesn’t find that adorable at all. Nope.

“What have you been calling me in your head?”

Dean purses his lips. Sometimes he’s really an idiot. He gives Blue-Eyes a shaky laugh.

“I said I wasn’t gonna keeping doing that.”

They stare at each other again, neither one budging until Blue-Eyes releases a breath and blinks, shoulders slumping a bit more. By the end of the night Dean expects this guy to be melted into the floor.

“Cas.”

Dean frowns. “Your name is Mr Cas?”

“No, just Cas.” Blue-Eyes, no, scratch that, Cas then holds out his hand so Dean can shake it like they’re fellow professionals meeting at a party or something. As he grips the other man’s hand in his own he realizes Cas’s hand is warm, dry, and, yep, strong. The dude is seriously ticking all of Dean’s boxes without even trying. It’s a bit unnerving, really.

“Is that short for something?” Dean asks, wondering what type of name that is.

Cas just looks at him over the rim of his glass. “Perhaps.”

Neither of them say anything else for a long moment and Dean shakes his head. “People ever tell you you talk too much?”

“Yes. All the time,” Cas says with a smirk.

Dean laughs. “Well, whatever. It’s officially nice to meet you, Cas. I’m Dean. Humble and professional barkeep at your service.”

“Hello, Dean.”

Cas’s voice is deep but there’s a warmth to it that makes Dean happy. They chit-chat for a bit, just like Dean would do with any newbie to the bar. He pours them both another round and then tries his question again.

“So, you seemed a bit upset earlier. What brought you through my doors, Cas?”

Cas sighs and glances away. He taps his fingers lightly on the polished wood of the bar. He stares at Dean as though assessing him and then looks as though he’s made up his mind.

“My…er, the person I’ve been dating, dumped me tonight. We went to an expensive restaurant and ordered far too pricey food for the serving size and drank outrageously fancy wine. Then they ordered an expensive bottle of cognac, drank it all and then told me I wasn’t worth it.”

Dean winces. “Ouch. How long were you together?”

“Six months.”

“Well, it’s not too long for a relationship, but it’s long enough to hurt.”

Cas nods, looking sullen again.

“What special occasion was it?”

Cas stares at him. “How could you possibly know that?”

“Fancy restaurant, the way you’re dressed, the cognac. Nobody orders that unless there’s been a birth or an anniversary or both.”

“It was my birthday,” Cas says, looking down again.

“Fuck,” Dean blurts out without thinking. “And they dumped you? Seriously bad juju, man.”

Cas nods and takes another drink of his whiskey, looking miserable. Dean tops off both of their glasses and hums.

“What was his name?”

Cas whips his head up, suddenly looking confused and more than a little worried. “I never said it was a he.”

“It was your distinct lack of pronouns, dude. Always the dead giveaway. Trust me, as a guy who plays for both sides, I know. Pronouns are key. Hey, relax, Cas, this is a safe space.” Dean points to the small pride flag he keeps above the bar and watches as Cas visibly relaxes.

The silence that falls between them is comfortable now. Welcoming, even. Cas clears his throat and rests his hand on his chin, peering at Dean.

“So…you’re bi, I assume or, pan, perhaps?”

“Got it in one. Just another bisexual loser ruining the world one lay at a time.”

Dean winks to show he’s only kidding. He’s proud to be bi, but it doesn’t mean he can’t make a joke at his own expense. Of course, if Sam or his friend Charlie were here they’d both tell him what they thought of that.

“His name was Bartholomew.”

Dean snorts. “It fits him. Douche-y name for a douche-canoe.”

Cas barks out a laugh and it completely changes his face into something truly beautiful. Dean suddenly feels the need to always make Cas laugh like that. He can’t imagine anyone not wanting to – his laugh is infectious. And the light it puts in his eyes is irresistible.

Cas looks serious again as he swirls the rest of the whiskey in his glass. “To be honest, Bart was just the last in a long line of failed…connections. I’m doubting my own self-worth at this point. Everyone ends up leaving or they get fed up with me. I’m too introverted…too socially awkward to deal with, I suppose.”

“I don’t know, you seem to be doing okay right now.”

“I’ve been drinking,” Cas says, deadpan. “And also I’m paying you.”

Dean chuckles. “Not really, I decided to stop charging you as soon as I poured my first one.”

“Your hospitality know no bounds. Truly.”

Dean laughs. Cas’s dry delivery and poker-faced expressions really are the limit. He feels that familiar warmth he always gets when he meets someone new. A someone new that excites him. But he pushes the feeling aside because he knows on some level that trying to get into Cas’s pants is so not what the other man needs right now. Dean shivers as he realizes how damn mature that sounds. Next he’ll be looking into 401ks and cemetery plots.

“Well, consider them birthday drinks. Of course, this stuff doesn’t cost a small fortune or anything, but I figured you’d already paid out enough tonight.”

Cas smirks and shakes his head at Dean. “Thank you, Dean. It’s actually very kind of you to…take pity on me.”

He says it jokingly but Dean gets the sense that he means it. He reaches forward and touches Cas’s hand.

“Hey, no pity here. You are ridiculously attractive and if I didn’t have a conscience, I’d definitely be throwing out my best lines here to help you relieve some tension, if you know what I mean. And you are not awkward to me, but even if you were, it wouldn’t be enough to stop me from asking for your number or seeing if you wanted to meet up sometime. I barely know you but you seem like a decent guy, Cas. And I think all of those people that don’t get you can just fuck right off. You need to keep trying, man. Don’t give up just because a few losers couldn’t see what they had.”

Cas blinks at Dean, blue eyes getting huge. “You think I’m ridiculously attractive?”

Dean thinks back. Did he say that? Yeah, he said that. Figures that would be the only thing to register with the dude.

“What sort of line would you use on me? I mean, if you were going to, that is.” Cas shyly glances away and then back, a curious look on his face.

“Oh, uh, probably something like, well you know what they say — the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.” Dean waggles his eyebrows and smirks, faking a leer.

“I’m not sure that would work with me,” Cas says, mirth clear in his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. You’d make me work for it, I know. But seriously, you need to regroup, clear out the douche-canoes from your life and find a new guy, man.”

Cas smiles at him in fondness, and nope, Dean is not going to do it. He will not break his rule about dating people just out of relationships. Not even for big huge blue eyes that make him feel sappy like a love song. Cas, however, clearly has other plans.

“This may be forward but, um, Dean would you allow me take you out for dinner? As a date, in case you were wondering how I meant it.”

“Oh, wow, Cas, um, I mean…”

Cas’s face takes an interesting journey in two seconds – from hopeful joy to miserable and wretched. Dean feels his heart break a little bit for him in that moment and mentally kicks his own ass for being a tool.

“Oh, I see. I…I’m sorry, Dean. Thank you for hospitality.” Cas fumbles with his wallet and places far too much money next to his glass. “I won’t keep you anymore. Go home and enjoy whatever is left of your night.”

Dean watches dumbly as Cas sits up straighter and then turns in his seat, his broad shoulders unyielding, suddenly. Dean knows he just can’t let it end like this.

“No, wait, Cas!”

Dean practically flings himself around the bar to reach Cas before he can unlock the door and leave without a backwards glance. He rests his hand on Cas’s shoulder, stopping him.

“It’s only because I have a rule about dating people that just got out of a relationship. It has nothing to do with you, I promise you. You need to focus on you, dude. Figure out what you’re looking for. If this one was just the last in a long line of guys who don’t understand you, try and see what people you’re going for. I mean, I’m no expert, and God knows I’ve had my fair share of jumping before looking moments, but I think you just need some Cas time right now, you know? If we ever start something I do not want to be rebound guy and you deserve something better than a one night stand.”

Cas stares at him, blue eyes half in shadow. Dean holds his breath, hoping he didn’t just lose something. All he can hear is the clock ticking behind him and the pounding of his own heart in his ears.

“That was quite the speech,” Cas finally says. “You sound like you know from experience.”

“Cas, man. You have no idea.”

“I have some, like I said, a long line of rejections. Still…” Cas’s eyes search his face and then nods to himself. “Maybe you’re right. I do tend to do things without thinking in this area of life despite being very practical usually. And you’re also right on anther point, Dean. You do not deserve to be “rebound guy”.”

Dean can’t help his grin as Cas makes the quotes motion with his fingers. They stare at each other for a bit longer before he unlocks the door. Cas steps out as the cold air filters in between them, causing them bother to shiver. Dean pauses, and then holds out his hand. “Let me have your phone.”

“My phone?”

“Yeah, you have one, right? Or have you moved on to something flashier like sky writing?”

Cas snorts and shakes his head. He fumbles in his pockets and then pulls out a slim, black smartphone. He unlocks it and hands it over. Of course, it’d be that kind of phone that can help you bake bread or turn off all the lights in the world with just a click or something. He finally finds what he’s looking for and puts his contact information in.

“There. There’s my number. Text me to let me know you get home, okay? And as for the rest, we’ll take it one day at a time, Cas. Let’s be friends, first.”

Cas smiles shyly as he looks down at his phone and nods. “Friends, first. I like that. Goodnight, Dean.”

“Goodnight, buddy. Be safe.”

Cas slips out and away, leaving a coldness in his wake as he takes his body heat with him. Dean watches him go, the black of the night almost swallowing him up. Cas pauses to pull his coat tighter, the glow of the streetlight lighting up his profile. To Dean he looks pure—angelic, almost, like a painting or a sculpture. With one last look at Dean, he eventually fades away, disappearing back into the world. Soon all Dean can see is his own breath in the air and the twinkling starlight from the surprisingly clear sky above. He locks up again and finishes his routine for the night. After he’s put the money in the safe and headed out back to his car, he feels happy inside. Like something good just occurred — like some new path has been cleared for him to travel. His drive home is quick and easy, there’s hardly any traffic mostly due to the earlier rain. It’s just as he’s pulling into his driveway that he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. It’s from an unknown number and his heart beats faster as he reads the message.

From unknown: I arrived home safely, Dean. Thank you, again. Would you like to get coffee tomorrow, or, perhaps I should say, later today? Oh, this is Cas, by the way. In case you didn’t know. :)

Dean saves the number and then returns to the message to reply, a grin creeping onto his face before he even realizes it.

Dean: Of course, dude. Coffee sounds great. Around 1pm?

Cas: Perfect. Do you know the Blue Java Café on Marion and Elm? It’s across from the park and one of my favorite places.

Dean: Sounds good. Can’t wait to talk to you sober, ya lush… (lol j/k hah)

Cas sends him a sticking-tongue-out emoji as a response and Dean chuckles as he locks up his car. He has a nice, happy feeling in his heart as he thinks of Cas. Like maybe this is something special. Or maybe it’s just that it could be and has the potential to be. He knows he told Cas friends first, but Dean’s willing to see where it…where they, can go.

#suptober23 #destiel #prompt:starlight #dean and cas #meet-cute #my writing #biting nails here #like posting stuff is scary #wth #I am not used this anymore #castiel #dean winchester

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nerdishpursuits · 3 months

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Can you elaborate on your tags about reading jk Rowlings original post?

Just that I admit that at first, when the JKR discourse started back in the day, I didn’t actually go and read the essay she published on her blog, which is the one that started the entire thing. I did go and read it, eventually, because I tend to like forming my own opinions on things. Personally, I didn’t see any evidence of transphobia. Same with her tweets. Sure, she’s a sarcastic troll some days because she’s, probably, tired of this topic. She was arguing there is such a thing as biological sex and people transition from one to the other in order to embrace living authentically. And that kids should be kids as they have no way to consent. They need to be left alone, or helped to make informed decisions they’ll not regret later in life. Perfectly fine and I’m very much supportive of that.

Everyone should love and live as they please, and no one has the right to ostracize them for it. What she called problematic was the complete denial that biological sex exists, hormone blockers in kids who can’t really consent, self IDing as a woman without actually transitioning and some trans activists saying a biological woman’s experience doesn’t matter. I don’t see that as being transphobic. Just logic and concern.

Over the past few days my partner and I went on a deep dive on this topic and found there’s plenty trans people agreeing with JKR. We’ve seen videos of trans women competing in women’s sports and winning, then commenting they don’t care at all about the medals and winning, but simply enjoy having a good time with their friends at the gym. Why compete in the women’s weight lifting category if you don’t care about winning then? Aussie surfer Bethany Hamilton was dropped by her lifelong sponsor in favor of a trans woman who previously competed, and won, in the men’s division. Swimming, wrestling, roller skating even etc. There’s trans women out there claiming they’re the ones who know what a woman is because they’re forced to think about it, whereas a biological woman is simply born and therefore, inferior. Others who claim they experience period cramps or that their genitalia is superior to a biological woman’s etc. As far as I’ve seen. JKR and other trans people have spoken out against these kind of situations, comments and claims. That’s why I think that cancel culture is so toxic. We need to look at the whole picture and stop claiming things are black or white or the damaging adage of if you’re not with me you’re against me.

I think a very loud minority, who doesn’t represent the entirety of the trans community, might actually be doing more harm than good. Not just to the trans community, who deserves nothing but acceptance and support and love, but the rest of the LGBTQ+ community as well. Pushing a narrative too fast, and forcefully, isn’t helping. It’s actually turning people against us and it’s frustrating and depressing. Denying actual biology and elbowing your way into biological women’s spaces won’t win you their love. Calling them birthing people won’t win them over. Calling them lesser won’t open doors either.

There’s a ton of material to be found on YouTube, there’s podcasts, articles etc. Personally, I think people need to sit down and talk and debate and be diplomatic. I’m not saying JKR isn’t without her faults but I do think she’s been demonized for speaking her mind and voicing her concerns about women’s spaces and kids. It’s as if people can’t have a healthy debate anymore. We need to cancel those who don’t agree with us. It’s the all or nothing mob mentality and, personally, I’m sick of it. This is a nuanced topic and should be treated as such. But now you can’t even be a centrist anymore. You have to be for or against and nothing in between. How about we look at what’s right or wrong, for both sides, and decide accordingly. Why this inane ideological war that radicalizes people who should be having a productive conversation instead.

#don’t come at me with your pitchforks or call me names #I won’t reply to that kind of message #be civilized and willing to engage in a healthy debate?#by all means

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sunflowersandsapphires · 7 months

Text

Self-Indulgent HCs

pairing(s): Frank Castle x fem!Reader, Matt Murdock x fem!Reader, Michael Kinsella x fem!Reader

summary: How each of the boys would care for you when you were sick, headcanons bc i am tired

warnings: non-graphic, general descriptions of sickness (just cold/fever, not covid)

a/n: this month was already rough on my allergies but i came down with quite possibly the worst cold I’ve ever had. (It’s literally so bad i had to use PTO instead of WFH days? I am literally dying.) I wrote this when I was feverish and couldn’t sleep to make myself feel better. I hope someone out there likes it 😭

Frank

I think Frank would worry a lot when his partner was sick.

He’s lost so many people and he doesn’t have a huge circle so i think it takes him by surprise a little.

But he’d do his best to hide his worries by going about his day and comforting you.

He’d get fresh produce from the store and make you delicious soup, pick up tissues and medicine for you, threaten anyone who tried to make you go into work

“Your boss still pullin’ that shit? Gimme the phone, let me talk to ‘em”

He loves being your big spoon anyways but he would not let you go if you looked or sounded ill. You’d be nestled carefully against his chest while he stroked your back until you fell asleep.

He’d keep you entertained by reading to you or watching whatever TV your fever-ridden mind is craving.

Above all, he wouldn’t leave your side until you were feeling better.

The smile on his face the next time you take him out would be brilliant. He’s just so happy that you’re here with him and feeling better.

Matt

Personally, i hate the idea of getting people sick more than actually being sick sometimes but i think this would especially be the case with Matt

His senses are so delicate, I wouldn’t want to fuck with him by being gross and loud or by getting him sick.

But there is no way this man isn’t the biggest self-sacrificing-mother-hen when someone he loves is sick.

He’d sense your illness before you would, and encourage you to take it easy and sleep a bit extra that week (above all, he’s a hypocrite.)

Of course, he’s a bit embarrassed of everything he can do, or maybe you don’t know the extent of what he is capable of, so he plays it off as “you’ve been working so hard lately, sweetheart, you need to take it easy.”

A day or two before the bug hits you like a truck, he’d come over with a bag from the pharmacy that’s just chock-full of DayQuil and Tea and cough drops and like a single bandaid

He poorly plays it off as “uh, your first aid kit was low, remember?”

Once you’re well and truly sick, he’d be stubborn as a mule if you tried to keep him away. You lock him out of your apartment? You wake up from a nap wrapped in a Devil-shaped blanket to find that someone picked your window lock.

At that point, you just cave and let him stay because you are so cold and he’s so so warm.

Mikey

Not afraid of using his puppy dog eyes to get you to stay home or in bed.

Also not afraid of crying wolf and pretending that he’s not feeling well to make you take a break

“Sorry, pet, my head is hammerin’. Think we could lay down fer a bit?”

Combined WITH the puppy eyes? You don’t stand a chance.

Though you usually take care of the housework while he’s dealing with his family’s business, he wouldn’t let you lift a finger until your temperature was normal and your voice came back.

It’s as if you’re the only person that exists to him, he’s running around trying to anticipate your every need.

It’s been a while since he’s dealt with the real world so he might ask Birdy for advice on how to care for a sick person.

Lots of home remedies (idk just vibes.)

He would have you lean against him in a scalding shower to clear your sinuses or draw you a nice bath.

Keep cool water and a cloth by the bed to bring your fever down.

Hand you cup after cup of tea until you have to threaten to tie him to the bed.

“Just lay with me, please”

“Of course, pet. Anything fer ya.”

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little-diable · 1 year

Text

Truth or Dare - Aaron Hotchner (smut)

I wanted to write the request I got by a lovely anon asking for some dark Aaron smut, but then it escalated into this. I promise anon, I'lll do the dark Aaron soon! I love reading Spencer fics about the episode where JJ confesses her love, so, I wanted to add a twist to it. I'm sure this has been done before. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: What if it hadn't been JJ and Spencer, but Emily and Aaron? How will the reader react to hearing Emily confessing her love for Aaron, the reader's husband?

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected shower sex, some angst, some tears

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader (1.7k words)

Divider by @firefly-graphics

“Shut up!” The unsub’s voice rang in (y/n)’s ears, eyes flickering to Penelope. The two were holding hands, trying to make it through the moments that clashed upon them like avalanches burying them in heavy blankets of snow. Their hearts were racing, praying to whoever was listening that Aaron and Emily would make it out of the situation alive.

“Okay, okay.” Emily’s voice didn’t carry any emotion, forcing the others to try and put themselves in her shoes, trying to understand the different sensations thumping through the agent’s system.

“Last chance, something you’d never say out loud. Not even to your partner here. Your deepest, darkest secret. Impress me, or I’ll kill him.” (Y/n) couldn’t focus on the words the man spoke, could only focus on the clicking of his gun, clearly preparing himself to shoot Aaron shouldn’t Emily speak up.

A sob clawed through (y/n), the mere thought of losing her husband left her choking on her breaths, cursing herself for letting him go, for not kissing him one last time when she had the chance. A life without Aaron Hotchner by her side was no life worth living. A life without Aaron Hotchner by her side wasn’t ever imaginable to her, not since they crossed paths almost a decade ago.

“Come on!” The man’s voice ripped her out of her thoughts, glassy eyes finding Penelope’s wide ones, watching the tears roll down the woman’s cheeks. This wasn’t an end (y/n) had ever imagined, this couldn’t be the last page of the book, no, there had to be something, something to rip them from this very nightmare.

A shaky breath was sucked into Emily’s lungs, a sound so clear the two women couldn’t help but jerk in surprise. It took the agent a few more seconds to speak up, shuffling around before she murmured Aaron’s name.

“I, uhm, I’ve always loved you. I was just too scared to say it before, and things were just too complicated to say it now. I’m sorry. But you should know.” And for a second there was nothing but silence, on both ends. (Y/n) felt Penelope squeeze her hand all too tightly, trying to get a reaction from the woman that was frozen, unsure how she should react to said confession. She had always known that there was something special between her husband and Emily, a friendship they couldn’t put into words to describe the strength of it.

And yet (y/n) had never even tried to imagine that it could go beyond a friendship, something only she was supposed to share with Aaron.

“Hot damn, that’s what I’m talking about.” (Y/n) let go of Penelope’s hand, wrapping her arms around herself as she kept listening. The woman tried to hug her, and yet (y/n) wouldn’t let her, not able to give into the comforting touch that would make it all too real, forcing her to realise that Emily had truly just confessed her love for Aaron.

And even though (y/n) knew that her husband loved her more than anything, she couldn’t help but wonder if he felt something deeper for the dark haired profiler.

With one last glance thrown Penelope’s way, (y/n) moved away from her the second she knew the others were safe, making her way to the nearest bathroom. Her thoughts were racing, hands shaking as she tried to dry her tears, not able to explain why she had started crying. Even though she hated hearing those words coming from her best friend’s mouth, she knew that it had been their only way out of the situation, praying that the unsub wouldn’t kill them.

The mere thought of Aaron feeling something more for Emily left (y/n)’s heart roaring in pain. Deep down she knew that her husband loved her more than Odin loved Freyja, watching her golden tears drip from her eyes whenever he left for a longer journey. Deep down she knew that he wouldn’t leave her, sticking to the promise of eternity, and yet her rational thoughts were drowned out by the confusion keeping her heart hostage.

She felt the minutes passing by as she was sitting on the toilet seat, staring straight ahead to give the different scenarios racing through her mind like bolts of lightning enough room to confuse her even further. Should she say something to Emily? Should she act as if she hadn’t picked up on the confession?

How does one react to the words that kept ringing in her ears like a crying child breaking the quietness night would offer?

“Look at me, (y/n).” Aaron’s voice ripped her out of her thoughts, gaze forced to find his coffee coloured eyes. He had made it back to the BAU hours ago, wordlessly finding her stiff frame with his hands reaching for hers, pressing her into his chest. She hadn’t spoken up, hadn’t even glanced at Emily as she had followed Aaron to the elevators, set on making it home before morning would break.

“Did you hear what Emily said?”

She could only nod, glassy eyes momentarily fluttering shut. Her mind kept screaming at her, forcing her to ground herself, not wanting to give away the inner tumult she was struggling with. Aaron’s big hand found her cold cheek, thumb caressing her lower lip. He allowed himself to study his wife for a few moments, wordlessly brushing away the salty tears rolling down her cheeks like rain pouring from the dark November sky.

“I hope you know that nobody could ever make me doubt my love for you. I promised you forever, and I intend to keep that promise. I love Emily as a friend, I could never love her like I love you.” His soft voice rumbled through him, desperately hoping to comfort her. A sob clawed through her, forehead falling against his chest, separated from him by the middle console of his black SUV.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying.” Her voice trembled, deeply inhaling as Aaron slowly parted from her, pulling her in for a kiss. It took her a few more moments to calm down, wordlessly nodding at her husband as he opened her car door, guiding her towards their shared home.

Darkness engulfed them as they stepped inside, grateful that Jack was staying with a friend, not wanting to wake him in the early hours of the morning. Aaron pulled (y/n) in for another tight hug, not daring to part from her trembling body.

“What can I do?” His heart was aching, struggling to take in the tears lingering on her cheeks, wanting to take away her pain. She feared that he could hear her heart racing in her chest, pumping blood that could have dripped from his lifeless body hours ago, rescued by the words that have broken (y/n)’s heart in the process.

“Just hold me, I need to feel you close.” Aaron tugged her along, making their way towards their bathroom, set on sharing a hot shower that could wash away the reminders of the past hours.

Gentle kisses were shared between them whenever another piece of clothing made it to the ground, ripped from the confines of her clothes like the weight being lifted off her chest. The hot water cascaded down her back as (y/n) stepped into the shower, grateful for the heat that now engulfed her like a warm embrace shared in the early hours of a December morning. Aaron followed her soon after, searching her body with his hands reaching for her waist, pulling her close.

Aaron’s hands wandered along her body, caressing her skin as if he was scared that she’d evaporate into smoke, disappearing right in front of his eyes like a dream he was ripped from. Her eyes fluttered close, face nuzzled into the crook of his neck, relishing in the soft touch that made her shudder. He cupped her heat, fingers exploring her arousal covered core, set on pleasing her till she’d forget about this very night.

She was pressed against the shower tiles, eyes finding his as he reached for his cock, brushing his tip through her folds. For a few seconds the world had stopped spinning, forcing her heart to race on, trying to focus on the moment, on the feeling of his body pressed against hers, searching her warmth.

“I love you, I hope you never forget that.” Aaron murmured his words against her lips, pushing into her with a groan clawing through him. Her fingernails left marks on his back, clinging to him with her lips finding his, kissing her husband breathless. There was nothing rushed about the moment, allowing the two to fall into a comfortable rhythm, hoping to chase the eventual high clashing upon them.

Her whimpers echoed through the room, reverberating through the morning, followed by the sound of their bodies clashing together with every thrust. Aaron’s movements grew faster with every moan rumbling through (y/n), hoping that he could distract her from the whirlwind of emotions she had been stuck in.

With her fingernails clawed into his back she felt her orgasm arising, threatening to clash through her way too soon, putting an end to the moment filled with emotions fueling her love for her husband. Her vision was blurred, seeing stars as his name rolled off her tongue, giving into her orgasm like a sailor following a siren’s call, giving into her end with her emotions guiding her on.

Aaron fucked her through her high, not daring to let go of her before she trembled against him, wordlessly begging him to follow her down the edge. She felt him imprint himself on her walls, filling her with his release.

“I love you too, Aaron, I always will.” With a smile tugging on his lips, Aaron pulled her in for a kiss. He was set on reminding his wife of his love, a promise made for eternity, a promise no truth, no dare could break.

#Aaron Hotchner smut #Aaron Hotchner imagine #aaron hotch imagine

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