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whats-rambled-rambled · 3 years

Text

Long Nights - part 3

Neil x Reader

Chapter 3: Difficult

(see chapter 2, 1)

summary: the morning after.

warnings: 18+, explicit language and other things, not that descriptive but I am not leaving you with -implied- this time, nsfw

author’s note: Right, this is actually half of what I wanted to write for this chapter, but I thought that it might work better this way. A bit shorter one, 2.4k words, I hope you’re still gonna like it.

Also - apparently all fandom writers share one brain cell, so let me just say that any resemblance to other works is purely coincidental. (hi Tessa!)

The song for this part is Billy Raffoul - Difficult

Enjoy! All feedback is greatly appreciated, let me know what you think?

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Tag list: @cxnnienikas @neutron-stars-collision @ergunbilge @invertedneil @wanderedaway @the-gazette-of-tea @wonderwoman292 @buckysgoldenheart @townmoondaltwistle (please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the list)

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Even before you opened your eyes, you knew something was off. The smell of bedsheets. Their texture. You rolled to the side, groaning slightly. A pulled muscle. Or two.

And a few other sore places.

Oh, right.

You heard the muffled sound of a door clicking shut and you glanced towards the entrance to the hotel room.

Neil looked like he’d just woken up himself, the lack of proper sleep painting dark circles under the blue eyes, a somewhat crumpled olive green t-shirt amplifying the usual dishevelance of his appearance. He caught your stare as he removed his shoes, balancing two cups of what you hoped was coffee in the other hand, and smiled lightly.

“Did I wake you?”

“No, but your timing is impeccable,” you laughed, stretching your arms and stifling a yawn. And then you smirked. “Glad to see it still holds true in the daylight.”

Neil snorted, his gaze lit up as you sat on the bed, not really bothered to cover yourself up.

“Coffee?” he said and handed you a cup.

“Yes, please and thank you.” You took the first sip and sighed with delight. “You’re an angel,” - a wicked grin crept on your face - “...a naughty one, but still.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, trying to hide the smug smile behind his cup.

“I did exactly what you suggested numerous times during the training,” he said, and then tugged the bottom lip between his teeth. “...and maybe elevated it here and there.”

You hummed in agreement as your sleep-deprived brain rolled a pretty vivid the best of tape; the string of flashbacks quickened your pulse more efficiently than the hot beverage in your hand.

“That you did, all right.”

Then your gazes met, and you pushed back the urge to curse. Yep, that was it. That scanning look. Vibe check. When both of you tried to figure out if the previous night changed anything between you. You wondered if he could see the silent plea in your eyes.

Please, don’t make this weird.

Neil hesitated, suddenly tense.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked sheepishly and took a swig from his cup, grimacing with regret as he evidently burned himself in effect.

“We had a fun night. Now we’re enjoying the coffee,” - pursing your lips, you tilted your head - “Did I miss anything?”

Seeing you all casual about it, Neil relaxed and exhaled slowly.

“I think that covers it.”

With the air cleared, you finished your coffee and put down the empty cup on the nightstand. Your clothes still scattered the floor, but there was something you needed to do first. You got up and stretched again, smirking as you caught the blue eyes wandering across your naked body.

“I’m gonna hit the shower,” you said, walking past Neil on the way to the bathroom. “Feel free to join me.”

Soon the hot water was soothing the stiff muscles and you closed your eyes, blessing the minds behind the concept of the rain showers.

The glass door creaked behind you.

“There you are.” You smiled, pouring a bit of the shower gel on your hand and spreading it on your shoulder. “For a second you got me thinking you’re not gonna come.”

Neil scoffed, amused.

“As if I could say no to an offer like that.”

His hand replaced yours on the shoulder and you gave him the bottle, groaning quietly as he started slowly rubbing your neck. The tension eased under his fingers, and you took a step back, turning your head and reaching to his cheek. As Neil leaned in to kiss you, his hands slipped down your sides. then up your stomach, and when they cupped your breasts, you gasped breathlessly. He smiled against your lips, looping one arm across your waist and pulling you closer.

You tangled your digits in wet blonde strands, tugging at them and shuddering as Neil stopped teasing your nipple and moved upward, wrapping the long fingers around your throat gently while he deepened the kiss. As if the act alone wasn’t enough to haze your mind, it awoke the memories from the night before, wiping any coherent thought from your head. Maybe that’s why a delicate stroke on your clit was almost enough to make your knees give out.

You whimpered and broke the kiss, then turned around and rested your forehead on his collarbone, catching your breath. Neil’s chest heaved under your palms as he embraced you, chuckling lightly.

“Still tired?” he asked, tucking dripping hair behind your ear and pressing his cheek to your temple.

“Not that tired,” you replied, smirking as you dragged your fingertips down his body.

A moan built in his throat but you were there to capture it with your lips. Your mind overcast with desire as you felt him getting even harder under your touch.

Even with the weary mood of the morning after, that pull between you was too strong to resist. And with your current state, it was so easy to get lost in each other’s closeness, in shared shaky breaths, in pleasure flowing through you to the rhythm of your bodies. Slow and careful at first, gentle brushes and gliding fingers - with the steam from the hot water enveloping you, the temperature was rising, and soon you wanted more. So did Neil.

He waited for a sign from you, and when your hips bucked and you started pushing against him, needy and desperate, his hold on you got firmer, his kisses more hungry and the pace of his thrust faster. The pulse pounded in your ears. Cold tiles against your back. You buried your face in his neck, gasping. Faster. The fire roamed through your veins, leaving you a moaning mess. Faster. The sounds of your bodies coming together filled the air. He cursed and pulled you closer. Harder. You cried out, so close to the edge. Neil tilted your chin and when his lips met yours, the world dissolved and you came undone, clinging to him as he joined you with a guttural groan.

You rode out your highs, trembling in each other's arms, huffs and giggles breaking in between sloppy kisses.

Neil pulled back to take a look at you.

“You okay?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled, running your fingers along his jawline. “Thank you.”

A smug smile dangled in the corner of his mouth.

“My pleasure.”

You scoffed and smacked his chest, making him laugh in response. Pressing his forehead to yours, he cupped your face as the other hand stroked your back in a soothing manner, and you closed your eyes, letting out a small sigh.

“I think I need a moment to recover,” you said, melting into his touch. “Feels like I could crash right here and now.”

Neil’s thumb brushed your cheek.

“Good thing we have some time before the meeting.”

“Wait, we...?” - you furrowed your brows, trying to focus - “What meeting?”

“With the boss. He left a message a few hours ago.”

You pushed him away, staring at him in disbelief.

“And you’re only telling me now?!”

He shrugged, unfazed by your outburst.

“Was there any appropriate moment earlier?”

“Okay, fair enough,” you said and pinched the bridge of your nose, collecting yourself. You’d been waiting for a chance to ask your questions for so long, and now that you finally could get it, you were exhausted from indulging yourself with a hook-up. A stellar one, hard to mark as a mistake, really, but a stupid thing nonetheless. “Do you know what it's about?”

Neil studied you intently, puzzled by the sudden mood swing.

“I have an idea or two, but you never know with him.”

“Perfect.” You drew a long breath, and then you felt a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder. The blue eyes finally found yours and you couldn’t hide that fond smile any longer. “Pass me that shampoo, will ya?”

-----

“So to recap - you have a tech that allows you to move backwards in time,” you said, combing a hand through your hair. “Sure, yeah, cool, makes total sense.”

You recalled Neil's reverse entropy theory and you looked at him just to catch his stare, checking on you if you made that connection. You knew better than to mention it aloud, chances were that he hadn’t told the boss about his slip-up.

“Glad to hear that it does.” The Protagonist smiled, but he was watching you closely as if he could see right through your bullshit.

Because to be completely honest, though? It didn’t. The whole concept was absolutely fucking mental. But at this point, all you could do was simply roll with it. Especially since it somehow explained why that goddamn lock they’d used to lure you into cooperation behaved the way it did.

You slumped on the chair, processing the new take on good ol’ reality. All the answers you got somehow led to even more questions, but before you could decide on one, The Protagonist leaned in.

“I asked you to come because I need to know if Neil is ready to check his skills in the field.”

You shrugged. “Depends. We’ve covered most mechanisms, but there are still things I need to introduce to him. But from the ones he knows? He’s good to go.” You smiled, your expression nothing but innocent as you glanced at your student. “He passed his recent stress test with top marks.”

If The Protagonist noticed the way Neil’s eyes widened at your words, he didn’t let it show.

“What if he had to be inverted?”

“Beats me,” you said and puffed your cheeks, exhaling slowly, considering the implications. “I assume that would mean the lock remains regular?”

The boss shook his head slightly. “I can’t guarantee that.”

You looked at Neil. He was sitting on the edge of his seat, pinching his little finger, the eyes darting between you and The Protagonist. Probably not too comfortable with being a passive subject of the conversation, bless his heart.

“Have you ever tried picking any of those locks that way?” you asked Neil, shifting on your chair to sit in a way that was supposed to make him feel more included in the discussion.

“Once, at the very beginning,” - he sent you a nervous smile - “but I failed miserably. Since then I’ve only practiced on the old locks in our regular setting.”

“I see,” you said, shifting your gaze to The Protagonist. “Then I can’t guarantee anything as well. We’ll add that to our training plan, when’s the first mission?”

The dark eyes bore into you.

“Yesterday.”

You scoffed, but then you realized he wasn’t kidding. You bit back a hysterical giggle and sighed.

“If I’d known about that from the start… about the mere possibility of training like that, I would’ve included it in the schedule a long time ago.”

“I had no idea it would take so much time.”

You didn’t know if that it was aimed at your teaching skills or at the pace Neil was learning, but it pissed you off enough to not care to ask for clarification. You weren’t having any of those.

“Listen, pal, you can’t learn it fast if you want to learn it well. Even with all the shortcuts provided, you need practice, and you can’t do that without spending hours polishing the skills enough to use it in the real world,” you huffed, glaring at the indifferent man behind the desk. “Neil can be exceptional all he wants, but he simply can’t cheat the process and skip right to the end.”

A light split-second brush against the side of your knee made you miss a beat. You blinked twice and you looked at Neil, but he was focused on the boss, using your moment of hesitation to chime in.

“Do you have any intel about locks on the location?”

The Protagonist nodded, handing him a folder.

You watched as the blue eyes flitted through the documents, the color draining from Neil’s face with every other page. Uh-oh. He cleared his throat.

“What’s our window to prepare?”

“Two days.”

Neil stifled a curse and rubbed his face. The boss fell back on his chair, reading enough from that reaction. You watched as they both considered the options.

“Is it just a b&e kind of assignment?” you asked, cutting into the heavy silence.

The Protagonist looked at you, puzzled.

“You mean breaking and entering? Yes, it should be, why?”

“Take me there, then.”

Neil straightened in his seat. “You can’t know for certain what we might find there,” he blurted out at the boss and turned to you. “No.”

But you ignored him, locking your eyes on The Protagonist.

“Seems like I’m your best chance.”

He couldn’t deny it, and from that brief glance at the information he’d collected on your jobs, you knew he got an idea about the things you were capable of. A certain level of flexibility was required in your line of work, and some of the stuff you’d gotten yourself into while working with Mahir proved you could get shit done, even if everything came crashing down on your head. Once or twice - quite literally. Ah, fun times. The Protagonist drummed the fingers on the desk, weighing his decision.

Meanwhile, you finally granted Neil some attention. He stared at you in silent protest, the features clouded with concern. The fact that he could be worried about you was utterly adorable, even if totally out of place. A corner of your lips twitched and you winked. Neil slouched against the back of the chair, rolling his eyes as a faint smile crept on his face.

Finally, The Protagonist made up his mind and nodded.

“All right. But I’m not sending you there without a basic training. Neil, I’ll ask Ives to clear his afternoon. He’s at the shooting range now, both of you should get there and start preparing straight away.”

“Oh, I know how to handle a gun,” you said, waving a hand dismissively. You’d rather jump straight into something more fun than that.

“Not an inverted one, you don’t.” Neil grinned and raised a brow, playful lights shining in his eyes. “Have you ever tried catching a bullet instead of shooting one?”

You fought the urge to massage your temples. Of course.

And then you beamed, barely containing your excitement.

That was more like it.

(next chapter ->)

#neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet fanfiction #neil tenet #robert pattinson #tenet #tenet fanfiction #neil tenet imagine #long nights

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storiesbymads · 4 years

Text

EIGHTEEN ( joe liebgott . )

Y/N met Joe a few days after she graduated from high school. loosely based off the one direction song.

warnings: none but it gets kinda sad @ the end ig

wc: 4.3k

Graduation was days away and Y/N could feel the air escaping her lungs just thinking about it. She had been dreaming about this day for the past twelve years and it was actually happening. Although, now that it was here, the moment felt bittersweet. She was about to leave all the childhood friends she’d made for a junior college across the country in San Francisco. It was almost too surreal for her to handle. A week from now, she’d be somewhat situated in an apartment she’d only seen once without her parents or really anyone that she knew. She would be starting her life.

The last few days of senior year could not have gone by any slower. Final exams had been the week prior so the classes she was attending were really just excuses for all of her classmates and teachers to get emotional about the time they’d spent together. Y/N counted down the minutes until she could finally get out of there. While some of the girls she’d come to know as her best friends were allowing themselves to shed a tear or two and give close to a million hugs to people they’d shared maybe a conversation with in their time there, Y/N kept finding herself in her daydreams about what her new life was going to be like.

“I cannot believe it’s our last day of high school,” her friend Annabelle said. There were about twelve girls all scrunched up at one lunchroom table in an already overcrowded lunchroom. Thankfully, the number had dwindled slightly over the years and now Y/N at least had enough room to put her elbows on the table when she was eating.

“I know! I’m gonna miss you girls so much,” another girl named Cecile said. Y/N swore she saw the slightest hint of a tear in her eye as she said it. Y/N took a bite of her peanut butter and jelly sandwich without another word.

The amount of nerves surrounding her as she stood on the small auditorium stage astounded her. She attended a small school with her graduating class maxing out around 200 and yet the room felt like it was about to explode. All of the classmates around her were decked out in the signature royal blue of their highschool with bright smiles and hazy eyes from the brightly flashing cameras. Y/N fidgeted with the tassel on her cap as she waited for the ceremony to begin. A few of her friends were sitting a few feet away from her. The deafening heartbeat in her ears stopped her from being able to hear what they were talking about. It wasn’t until one of them nudged her ribs that she realized the lights had dimmed slightly and everything was starting.

The announcer’s speech, thankfully, hadn’t lasted longer than a few minutes and the graduates had started making their way across the stage. Before Y/N knew it, she was walking across the stage and shaking hands with the principal and various other administrators she’d come to know over the years. Her legs were numb and she was surprised--and very grateful--that she made it across the stage without so much as tripping. She even silently thanked her mother beforehand for discouraging her from wearing the three-inch pair of heels in her closet.

“The Class of 1936! Congratulations!” her principal announced as a wave of blue filled the air. There were graduation caps everywhere across the auditorium. It was going to be extremely difficult to tell whose was whose at the end of the day but that didn’t stop a single student from completing the tradition. One student’s cap even managed to land in the rafters for a few seconds before coming down.

It was difficult to locate her parents in the crowd in the moments after. Everything seemed to be simultaneously happening in slow motion and hyper speed since her first step across the stage. She spotted the top of her mother’s head across the room and rushed over to meet them. Both of her parents had been leaning up against the wall near the exit speaking to another couple until they noticed her semi-running towards them. Her father pulled her into a tight hug and made a comment about an eyelash messing with his eye the entire ceremony. She gave her mother a soft smile when he finally let her go. Her parents gave a small goodbye to the couple next to them and joined hands with their daughter on the way out of the highschool for seemingly the last time in their lives.

The sound of her alarm clock buzzing at 6:30 in the morning caused a loud groan to fall from Y/N’s lips as she begrudgingly pulled herself from the warmth of her duvet and into her adjoining bathroom to start her day. It was moving day. Well, technically. Most of her furniture had been shipped out to her apartment a few days prior but today was the official moving date. She had to be at the train station by 8:00 with the last of her belongings. Judging by the fact that Y/N was brushing her teeth with her eyes still very much closed, it was evident that she was very much regretting choosing the earliest departure time to San Francisco available.

Her two suitcases were packed and stacked next to the front door of her parents’ home and she kept glancing at them during the entire duration of breakfast. In her mind, she was going over every item that she needed to bring and checking the mental checklist she’d gone over about twenty times over the past two days. She knew it was overly redundant but she couldn’t bear the thought of forgetting something and not being able to retrieve it until the next major holiday. It was unlikely, though, that she would forget something as her childhood bedroom was practically barren save for the twin bed and the wire coat hangers in her closet.

“Honey, if you look at those suitcases one more time,” her mother lightly scolded. She was glad her daughter was so excited for something but she was still slightly bitter to the thought of her daughter leaving home so soon after graduation.

“I’m sorry! I can’t help it,” she sighed. The plate of eggs and bacon had barely been eaten--mostly just moved around with a fork--and was growing colder by the minute. Y/N knew she wouldn’t be able to eat with the amount of nerves building up in her stomach. She spared a final glance at the luggage

“Your mother’s right,” her father sighed and blew the steam off of his cup of coffee. Y/N was surprised to see the newspaper usually tightly clutched within her father’s fingers nowhere in sight.

“So, what’re your plans for the day?” Y/N asked after a few moments of silence. She had completely given up on her plate of food and had pushed it further towards the center of the table.

“Oh, you know. Mope around the house wishing our baby were still here with us,” her mother said dramatically, pretending to wipe a tear from her face.

“Very funny.”

“She’s not joking,” her father chuckled into his mug. It was odd to see him this way. Both of his hands were tightly wrapped around the white porcelain and he still had his reading glasses on rather than the contacts she was so accustomed to seeing. Come to think of it, her mother looked quite strange, too. She was still in her evening robe and had made no effort to remove the curlers from her hair.

“Are you not accompanying me to the train station?” Y/N asked. She watched her parents share knowing glances before they each turned towards her.

“Your father thinks it’s best if we say our goodbyes here. He knows I’ll cry like a banshee if we do it in public and he wants to spare you the embarrassment,” her mother said.

“Oh,” Y/N mumbled and glanced down at her fingers fiddling with the hem of the tablecloth. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Oh Honey-”

“We can come with you if you want!”

“No, no. Dad’s right. Plus, if you start crying I’m sure to start crying and then where would we be,” Y/N allowed an airy laugh to brush past her lips at the thought of her and her parents all crying and smushed together in a dysfunctional group hug.

Due to the fact that Y/N had taken probably the longest nap in her life on the train, her legs felt as stiff as the concrete beneath her feet as she tried (and failed) to make her way out of the station in a normal looking way. Every step looked more like a waddle combined with the luggage that felt ten times heavier getting off than getting on settled on either one of her shoulders.

“Need some help with that, doll?” One of the various taxi-cab drivers asked. It took her a second to locate which one was addressing her but it was easy enough to identify him when she noticed him quickly approaching her with a hand out.

“Uh,” she mumbled. “Yeah-Yes. That’d be great, thank you.”

“Just doing my job,” he sent her a wink as he helped her load the luggage into the trunk of the bright yellow vehicle. Y/N allowed herself to take in the appearance of the man as she got into the backseat and told him her destination. He was quite skinny but that didn’t take away from the overall build of him. In fact, it seemed to make her more attracted to him. His lips seemed to be plastered in a permanent smirk and his hair was way too perfect for him to just have thrown some gel in it and called it a day. It was good enough to land him a hair modeling gig, in her opinion.

“How long will you be staying?” the driver asked and made eye contact with her through the rear-view. His eyes had a mischievous glint to them.

“I don’t look like a regular to you?” she asked with mock offense.

“With that accent? Not a chance, dollface,” he said. They retained eye contact for a few more seconds before his sight flickered back to the road in front of him. Y/N was thankful for the added background noise of the radio at that point.

“You’re actually taking me to my new place,” Y/N said after a few moments of awkwards silence. She found herself fiddling with a slightly ripped piece of leather on the seat beneath her. She felt his eyes on her but by the time she looked back up at the mirror his eyes were focused on the road once more.

“How do you know I’m not a creepy stalker? Now I know where you live,” he joked as he reached a red light. She was able to get a good look at his eyes in the mirror now. The sunlight coming in from the windshield allowed her to notice the swirl of chocolate in his irises. Multiple car honks behind them startled the driver into pressing on the gas a little too quickly, startling Y/N and almost causing her to faceplant into the back of the seat.

“Sorry about that, doll,” he muttered and adjusted how he was sitting ever so slightly and allowed one of his hands to rest on the center console rather than the wheel.

“So, are you?” she asked.

“What?” his eyebrows scrunched together and his grip on the wheel tightened.

“Are you a stalker?” Y/N allowed herself to relax into the seats more. She didn’t really care if he was a stalker. She just never wanted him to stop talking.

“You’ll be glad to know that I am not, Miss…” he voice trailed off, obviously asking for her name.

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Joe Liebgott. Nice to make your acquaintance, dollface,” he sent her another wink through the mirror. Y/N felt her heart sink slightly when she noticed her apartment building only a few feet away.

By the time Joe had found a parking spot in front of the building, Y/N could feel her heart all the way in the souls of her feet. She had no idea why she was reacting this way. She had only known this man for, what, twenty minutes? And their one striking conversation had been about whether or not he was a stalker. She had no right to get this attached to him.

“You know,” he started. “I could give you a tour of the city if you’d like. You know, since you’re new and all.” He flashed her a million-dollar smile as he handed her the two pieces of luggage from the trunk.

“I think I would really enjoy that, Joe.” Her heart was beating so fast it could have jumped right out of her chest and made it back to her parents’ house before she was able to get inside her new apartment.

“Great,” he said. He opened up the passenger side of the cab so that he could reach into the glove box. He pulled a pen out of his shirt pocket and began scribbling on the blank side of the receipt he had just pulled out of the compartment before handing the small piece of paper to her. In very messy handwriting, she noticed he had written Joe (not a stalker, he promises) followed by a phone number and a smiley face below all of it.

“I’ll make sure to call you, Not-a-stalker-Joe.” Y/N’s face had heated up an extreme amount and she hoped that Joe wouldn’t think anything of it.

A few days passed before Y/N worked up the courage to actually call Joe. Maybe it was the fact that it was eleven o’clock at night. She always had been braver when she was tired. Maybe it was the fact that she hadn’t been able to get the cab driver out of her mind since he dropped her off at her place. Especially at night when she was alone with her thoughts. He got her head spinning and her heart racing without even being in the same room as her. She could only imagine what it would be like when she took him up on that tour offer.

“Hi, is this Joe?” she asked as politely as she could. She regretted calling the second he picked up.

“Depends…” his voice was raspier than it had been a few days ago. There was a possibility that Y/N had woken him up. “Who is this?”

“Y/N,” she said. Her nerves were skyrocketing at this point. The past week or so had not been easy on her heart.

“Who’s the stalker now?” he chuckled lightly into the phone. She heard rustling from the other side and assumed he was moving around on his bed. Having the phone by the bed seemed like a smart idea to her and she wondered why she hadn’t thought of moving hers there.

“You gave me your number, you know,” she said, twirling the cord around her finger.

“For a tour of the city. Not a late night rendezvous,” he said.

“I’m sorry. I can call again in the morning.” Her face was burning with embarrassment; the pressure managed to trail all the way down her spine, it seemed.

“No, doll, don’t worry about it. It had been a pretty boring night anyway,” Joe sighed. Y/N could imagine him running his hand through his hair. Then the image of running her hands through his hair popped into her mind.

“So, about that tour?” she asked. She really hoped she wasn’t being too forward. He was the one that offered.

“You up for it? Tomorrow’s my off day so you called just in time,” he said.

Y/N was barely able to sleep an hour that night. She didn’t know if it was the nerves (it was) or if it was the seemingly endless downpour of rain outside. After her fifth wake up, she decided trying to sleep was a lost cause. She slipped out of bed and out of her bedroom into the open concept of the rest of her apartment. The clock on the wall beside her stove let her know that it was edging on 4:15. Somehow, she managed to turn on her coffee pot and actually make herself some in her zombie-like state. She felt the liquid warm her right down to the tips of her toes.

Around 7am Y/N was beginning to regret skipping out on anymore sleep. Her eyes were droopy and she could barely keep them open long enough to read more than a paragraph on the morning paper. She figured this would be as good a time as any to start getting ready. She probably should’ve worked out a better plan with Joe before hanging up last night; she had zero percent of a clue as to when he would be picking her up that morning.

Y/N’s shower lasted longer than usual due to her starting the whole ordeal by just standing under the hot water with her eyes closed for about ten minutes. She’d even let her mind wander to thinking about Joe being in said shower with her but quickly shook the thought away as she began applying her coconut scented body wash. By the time she was finished, the originally scalding water was beginning to grow cold and Y/N was practically shivering trying to push the hot-water knob past its limit.

She decided to fix herself a third cup of coffee after getting dressed to aid her in doing her makeup in a way that wouldn’t make her look like a raccoon. A few years ago she had tried to do a Smokey eye after about three hours of sleep and she was not going for a recreation of that this morning.

9am was beginning to roll around when she heard a knock on her door.

“Morning, doll,” Joe said when she opened the door. He had his hair slicked back and a collared shirt left unbuttoned about three buttons.

“How’d you know which apartment was mine?” She chuckled lightly. She could have sworn he hadn’t followed her up to her door the previous day but she could’ve been wrong.

“I watched from my car to make sure you got in okay. I was really hoping I remembered which door it was and didn’t go knocking on some old lady’s door,” he said and ran one of his hands through the gelled hair. Y/n glanced over the balcony of the complex to see the bright yellow taxi parked in the exact spot it was in yesterday.

“That was very sweet of you, Joe,” both of them had a slight red tint to their faces as they made their way down the stairs and to the taxi. He opened the door for her before jogging around the front of the car to get in himself.

“The best tour of your life begins now,” he said before starting the car up.

“So how old did you say you were?” Joe asked after about twenty minutes of awkward silence.

“18. You?” Y/N said. She really hoped he wasn’t 37 or something or this whole ordeal would have gotten really awkward really fast.

“21,” he said and turned down the radio knob ever so slightly. She couldn’t stop herself from thinking about how nice his fingers looked. “Now our first stop…”

It had been months since Y/N had first met Joe but she swore it felt like the pair had known each other forever. She felt more comfortable around him than anyone else she had ever met. They went on one or two more dates after their tour before Joe asked her to be his girlfriend. Everything between them was moving incredibly fast for Y/N’s usual tastes but she couldn’t be happier at the given moment. Joe made her feel alive. Her fingertips burned with every touch and her insides were practically doing backflips any time he complimented her or so much as held eye contact with her.

“Good morning doll face,” Joe said with his raspy morning voice that Y/N adored more than anything. She groaned with displeasure at being roused from her sleep but she gave him a soft smile when she finally opened her eyes. Joe was running his fingertips lightly across Y/N’s bare back as the thin sheets of his bed covered their lower halves. Her hand moved from being placed at the top of his abdomen to gently stroking his jaw. There was the faintest of stubble growing in and she would never tell him how much she really loved it.

“Morning, handsome,” she mumbled into his chest. She began trailing kisses from his chest up to his collarbone and back down again. Joe used his free hand to stop her antics and pull her face up to kiss his lips this time. In a few short moments, Joe was able to flip the pair of them to where he was resting over Y/N with one of his hands beside Y/N’s shoulder to support his weight and the other securely positioned on her jaw.

“That was a very good way to wake up,” she said and ran her thumb across his slightly swollen lips. He let out a soft laugh before poking her in the side and laying down on the bed beside her.

“I think I’m going to go get a shower. Care to join me?” He asked with a smirk. They had showered together before but it had never ended with them cleaner than when they entered.

“Not today, baby,” she said, which earned a very over exaggerated groan from Joe as he forced himself out of bed and into the connected bathroom.

She, too, pulled herself out of the bed and grabbed Joe’s button up off of the floor and buttoned it up just enough to cover all the necessities. She heard the creak of the hot water knob as she exited the bedroom to make herself some much needed coffee. Neither had gotten the recommended 8 hours of sleep and she was wondering how Joe was able to be so animated about everything already.

Their one-year anniversary came around faster than anything that Y/N had ever experienced. One day she was living in her parents home desperate to graduate from high school and now she was living in her boyfriend’s apartment (unbeknownst to her parents) and celebrating a whole year of dating. And it had been the most magical year of Y/N’s life.

“More wine?” Joe asked her as he pulled himself off of the couch. Y/N whined slightly as her side was hit with a gust of cold wind.

“Yes, please,” she said and handed up her empty wine glass.

“You got it, doll,” he sent her a wink and went into the kitchen to fill both their glasses. Y/N couldn’t help but watch him the whole time. She never thought that she’d be this head over heels for a man— especially this far along in a relationship. Before Joe, the longest she’d had a boyfriend had been about two months and they barely even talked during that time.

Joe glanced over at her from the kitchen just barely making eye contact with her before Y/N shifted her gaze to the record player in the corner of the room near the small television. It had been playing static for about an hour now but the both of them were too comfortable to care enough about flipping it.

“I love you, Joe,” Y/N said after a few more moments of silence. There was a loud crash in the kitchen that caused her to surge up from her seat and rush over. Before she was able to bend down to clean up any of the broken glass, though, Joe pulled her in by the hips to smash his lips against hers.

“Say it again,” he said when he pulled away with the biggest grin Y/N had ever seen.

“I love you, Joe.”

“I love you, Y/N/N. So much,” he pulled her in for another kiss, sidestepping around the broken wine glass to set her on the kitchen counter and placing himself between her thighs. His hands trailed from her hips to rest on the sides of her knees.

Almost four years had passed since then. Joe was set to leave for boot camp this afternoon and Y/N was barely functioning at this point. He had become such an integral part of her life since she arrived in San Francisco. She had no idea what she would do if he didn’t come back to her. Hell, she barely had a clue what she would do if he did come back to her. She knew nothing would be the same after all of this.

“I’ll write to you whenever I get the chance, baby doll. I promise,” he mumbled into her hair. Y/N had not left his side once in the past week and she didn’t plan on leaving it until he was on that train.

“I’m going to miss you so much, Joey,” she said.

“I know. I’m gonna miss you too.”

“I’ve loved you since I was 18 years old, Joe. I’m 22 now and somehow I love you more and more each day. Promise me you’ll come home to me,” she said. There were tears beginning to leak out of the corners of her eyes. He wiped one away with the pad of his thumb.

“I promise to try as hard as I can to come home to you, baby doll,” he said and pressed another kiss to her hair.

#joe liebgott #joseph liebgott #joe liebgott imagine #joe liebgott x reader #joseph liebgott imagine #joseph liebgott x reader #band of brothers #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers x reader #bob #hbowar #hbowar imagine #hbowar x reader

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if-you-built-yourself-a-myth · 4 years

Text

Heaven’s High - Chapter One

idea courtesy of @beaniebabyrobbe

A crazy night out with friends and a harmless little prank on a doctor come together to match soulmates.

Sander didn’t mean to get so wasted after work. He never did, really. He was more the kind of guy to go home and draw pictures of the view from his window, maybe watch some TV or something, and maybe prepare a late-night snack. There was a television program on Discovery channel, Naked and Afraid, that came on almost every night. The concept of survival in remote locations fascinated Sander. He liked to enjoy an episode or two most nights before going to bed around one.

Contradictory to his bad-boy exterior, Sander disliked parties. He wouldn’t have been in the bar at all had it not been for his friends (and coworkers, but that part wasn’t as much of a factor). Théo and Céleste both had to deal with nasty clients in the tattoo parlor that day, and had enlisted Cas as their designated driver so they could get fucked up. Cas said fuck that and called Sander. Sander, technically speaking, was not allowed to drink, so he should have been the perfect match for the needs of the group. How he ended up knocking back another shot of vodka while Théo chanted in the background, he’d never know.

He did know, however, that it felt fucking awesome. So awesome, in fact, that Théo texted Sander’s roommates, Skyler and Michaël, to join in on the fun. Céleste ordered them all another round, and another thing became clear: there was no way he’d be able to drive Théo’s beat-up station wagon back to the apartment complex where they lived. No way in hell. Too bad.

“If we’re going to have to walk home,” Cas slurred, waving around half a gin and tonic, “I’m going to fucking kill you. Do you understand that, Driesen?”

In one sense, yes, Sander understood. In another sense, he found himself obsessed with the way condensation beaded on the outside of the glass in tiny droplets. He picked one at random and rooted for it to win as it trickled downward. Shit. Lost twice.

“Do you hear me?”

Yes, in one sense, Sander heard.

“These are new shoes. Can’t be… walkin’ and shit.”

Wasn’t that the purpose of owning shoes, though? Like, they were invented so that people could walk and shit on top of nasty stuff that would hurt their feet without them. Sander didn’t think he would wear shoes at all if they weren’t necessary.

“We’re gonna walk,” he assured Cas. They both finished their drinks.

Sander gazed across the bar. Though his vision was shaky and unstable, he could tell Michaël was sitting near the door. Things weren’t the same between them anymore, a reality he knew he would have to face at some point… but not today. Michaël spotted him staring and nodded; clearly, he wasn’t as drunk as Sander. Sander liked being drunk. It made him into more of himself than he got to be when his medication was stable. It allowed him to think about things that he actively pushed away when he was sober. Like Michaël.

Vodka recreated a picture of them underneath the strobing lights.

For every ten disjointed, garbled thoughts, he thought one thing coherently. The first coherent thought was: did I like him when I kissed him, or are all of my feelings fake? Without alcohol, the question would have killed him. With, he hardly noticed the sting.

Skyler gathered the group together with a wave of their hand. “I know another club. It’s getting boring here.”

Sander disagreed. The bar walls were full of paintings, photographs, and postcards, and the windowsills boasted a large array of antique beer bottles. There was plenty to stare at. He was coming up on the introspective stage of drinking where one calls their ex to ask what went wrong, and he didn’t want to waste it by walking to a club. The others overruled him.

“Hell yes!” Céleste yelled. “Train or bus?”

“Better not be a fucking dive bar,” said Théo.

What was wrong with dive bars? Besides the smell, and occasionally the food poisoning, Sander thought they were pretty great. He met his ex-girlfriend at a dive bar.

Michaël threw an arm over Cas’s shoulders. “So long as there’s dancing, I’m in.”

“New shoes!” Cas said, for no reason at all.

They scrambled out the front door. Sander concentrated everything into not tripping over his own feet as the world pitched and spun around him. The trees planted on the sidewalk swirled in technicolor circles. The stars streaked across the sky and mixed into the streetlights like running watercolor paints. It would make a really good photo.

He was unsure of the exact volume he’d consumed in the bar—the best estimate was a lot—and now it fought in his stomach to come back up. Skyler remedied this problem with a tiny flask they passed to the others. Sander managed to hold himself upright for a whole five blocks.

“So we’re headed to…?” prompted Céleste.

Skyler dismissed her with a wave of their hand. “It’s not much farther. All you drunks should be fine.”

“Debatable.” Cas looked at Sander.

Sander could feel the group’s eyes redirecting to him. At least that meant one of his senses was still intact. They all knew that he wasn’t allowed to be drinking, even though they were the ones passing him shots and flasks, and perhaps they felt guilty about it for a second. He didn’t so much care.

“I’m good,” he thought he said. He would later find that what came out of his mouth was closer to Tchaikovsky’s 1812 overture than an actual sentence.

The last thing Sander remembered from their night out was Skyler beside him, hand on his shoulder, asking, “Doesn’t lithium make you get drunk really, really quickly?” to which Sander replied, “Yes, it does.” After that, his memory faded into pretty much nothing. That was his favorite part.

He was in a curtained-off room, surrounded by Cas, Céleste, Théo, Michaël, and Skyler. His body felt like someone had filled it with cement, specifically his head. Prolonged ringing overtook his right ear before dissolving into a thrum in the back of his consciousness. He blinked a couple times. The sound dampened and disappeared.

Théo stood the closest to his bed. There was blood on his hands and in his dark, curly hair, worked into the spirals like hair gel. It would be stiff to the touch. Cas, Céleste, and Michaël engaged in a game of Uno on the floor, not that Sander could see the cards. When Théo saw Sander’s eyes were open, he laughed and clapped a hand on his bed railing… when did Sander get into a bed? Why did it have rails?

“Good morning, sleeping prince! I thought they were gonna have me for manslaughter.” It wasn’t a funny thing to say, but he appeared to think it hilarious. Still drunk, most likely. “No need to worry, we did your paperwork.” Everyone else snickered.

Footsteps sounded from close by. Cas whispered, “Oh fuck, you’re just in time, here he comes…”

A man entered through the curtains (considering the context, a doctor). To Sander, it hit like a slap in the face. He had never seen anyone so striking or memorable. This scene was what he pictured before he drew portraits of people he didn’t know and the feeling he felt when he painted places he’d never seen. The emotion hit him too fast to be real, he thought. He was around sixty percent sure that Théo was covered in blood because Théo had committed his murder and the man before his eyes was God Himself. That, or whatever the fuck he drank at the bar before had given him some serious rose-colored glasses. There was no way this man could be a real person.

He wasn’t ready to see something like that so soon after waking.

“I’m sorry,” said the doctor, immediately pulling a one-eighty to leave Sander’s curtained section. “Wrong room.”

Théo snickered. “Who are you looking for?”

“I’m not allowed to give names.”

“Could it be…” Théo dragged the reveal out like a drumroll. “…Sander Driesen?”

The doctor halted five steps away and turned back. His looks mesmerized Sander. He had short brown hair, messy in a sort of endearing way, concealed almost completely by a bandana covered in teddy bears holding lollipops. He wore pink scrubs patterned with the dogs from the hit children’s show Paw Patrol. Sander had spent enough time channel-surfing to know the dominant motif was Skye, the cockapoo. The earlier thought needed amending: he was ninety percent sure he was hallucinating.

“Is this…?” The doctor walked back through the curtain. He crossed to the bed and looked down at Sander’s bleeding forehead and the fresh-blossoming bruise. “Are you Sander Driesen?”

Sander, ever the romantic, could think of only one response. “You’re gorgeous.”

The doctor blushed slightly, but he didn’t let it stop him from launching into his speech. “Hello, Mr. Driesen. I’m Dr. Robbe Ijzermans. I am the pediatrician on call tonight, here to see if your brain is doing okay.” He said it all slowly, which was alright for Sander, who didn’t understand a word of it anyway. “Although, judging by this little stunt, I have determined you might not have one. You don’t look like a six-year-old.”

Skyler burst out laughing. They stopped when Céleste shot them a pointed look.

“I suppose you didn’t do the paperwork.”

Skyler stifled their giggles again.

“So,” Robbe continued, “Can you tell me where you are?”

Sander’s mind was a blank slate. All he could process was the fact that Robbe was now coming closer to him with a penlight ready to shine into his eyes. The doctor had brown eyes. There were freckles, faint as hell but definitely there, clustered close to the bridge of his nose. Sander’s vision blurred, cut in and out. He wondered how he could even hold a picture of Robbe’s face in his mind. And a burger would taste really good right now.

“Big white room,” said Sander.

“Where is this room located?”

Sander scanned the room, the bright lights overhead, and the cute guy in pink scrubs standing in front of him. “Heaven?” He made eye contact with Robbe. “Are you an angel?”

Now the rest of Sander’s coworkers dissolved into hysterics. Cas almost fell over, grabbing an IV pole for support. When it rolled, he went down with it. If Céleste had wanted to shut them up this time, a look would not have done it. Michaël, the least inebriated of the group, gave Robbe an apologetic shrug.

“You’re in the hospital,” Robbe said. His voice remained steady, though he’d blushed even deeper red. “Do you remember what happened to you?”

“Huh?”

“I kicked you in the head,” Théo supplied from the floor beside Cas, “and then you threw up and passed out on the sidewalk.”

What the fuck?

Robbe glowered at Théo. “You kicked him in the head?”

“We were at a bar.” Théo shrugged. “He fell over while dancing and I kicked him in the head.”

Now that they mentioned it, Sander’s head retained a ghost of an image. Michaël, under strobe lights again. Head connecting to concrete. In this lens, though, it all seemed like a caricature.

Robbe put his hands to his temples as if he’d never experienced stupidity at such a magnitude before. “Then he threw up on the sidewalk?”

“Yep.”

“And he passed out?”

“Yep.”

“Is that where the blood on your head came from?”

Théo brushed his fingertips over the scarlet crust adorning his forehead. “Oh, yeah. I leaned down to check if he was breathing, y’know?”

Huh, suddenly Sander felt nauseous… no, tired, really tired… time to take a little nap…

“Mr. Driesen,” said Robbe, jarring Sander back. “Do you remember any of that?”

Sander decided to intact some subtle flirting so the angel would let him sleep. “I’m in love with you.” Nailed it.

“No, Mr. Driesen, do you remember being kicked in the head?”

“Your eyes are pretty.”

“Mr. Driesen?”

Céleste held onto Sander’s bed railings to keep herself upright. “He’s not gonna know.” She pantomimed tilting a beer back.

“You use conditioner, don’t you?” said Sander, because it seemed like the natural direction of conversation.

“It’s not really my job to do this.” Robbe shined the light into Sander’s eyes. “Please follow the light for me with your eyes not your head.”

Sander stared him down and didn’t move an inch. “You don’t?”

“How does your tummy feel?” He was talking like he would with little children, going through the motions, Sander guessed. It was a good guess. He could be a very good guesser once the alcohol started to wear off. “Does your stomach hurt?”

Sander was too busy thinking about his guessing prowess to answer the question. The alcohol was not, in fact, wearing off.

Robbe took a step away from the bed, as if considering another test to determine the extent of injury. He thought better of it. “This isn’t my job. I’ll refer him through to the specialist. And you—” He stared daggers at Théo. “—should put the correct age on paperwork. Are we clear?”

“He acts like he’s six,” Théo offered.

“If something more pressing was wrong, mislabeling his age could lead to the hospital being under-prepared to treat the ailment.” Robbe’s eyes returned to meet Sander’s. Sander felt sparks travel through his fingertips… or maybe he was just cold. “Some symptoms mean more when in children than in adults, and you could have panicked an entire ward over a lesser problem.”

“If it was so bad,” Cas protested, “The guy at the nurses’ station would have shut us down! He let it through.”

Robbe, while maybe a little flushed, had kept everything together until that point. As soon as the words exited Cas’s mouth, he made a face like a key in his head had turned and everything had clicked. Without another word to Sander or his friends, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the hospital room.

“Jens!” Sander heard him yell. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Sander’s coworkers burst into crazed laughter for the umpteenth time that night. When they recovered though, there was a wordless agreement that it was time to head back home and leave Sander with Michaël for the remainder of the tests, since they were roommates. He was glad for it; everything in his body wanted him to lay very still for the next three hundred and fifty years. The blankets were soft. His eyelids were heavy. There was blood on his face and a gash that someone would have to wake him up later to stitch. He had earned a good night’s rest by now.

One by one, they filed past the curtains. Sander was concussed, and maybe a little drunk, and the least credible source for information on body language. That said, he could have sworn that Michaël took his hand at some point when the new doctor came in.

No need to care about that. When he drifted off, he imagined kissing Robbe under strobe lights, even though he knew the infatuation would dissipate before morning.

#wtfock #sobbe #sobbe fic #sobbe au #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen #be nice because i'll be back to make edits tomorrow

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noah-andrews · 4 years

Text

Hot,hot, icy hot | Mike & James

Who: Mike Chang ( @dommikechangjr) and James Beiste ( @jamie-beiste)

What: Bingo - Temperature play (hot) - Icy hot/capsaicin

Where: Mike’s suite

When: 9/8 late morning

Mike had never scened with Jamie before and so he was determined to go about this scene well. It was a feeling that he always got when he scened with someone new, especially someone that was claimed, because it felt like there was a whole other element in that case. He smoothed his hands together as he glanced down at the boy that was laying on his back with his chest bare. "How are you feeling, Jamie?" Mike questioned as he finished preparing what he needed.

It was always interesting to scene with someone new. It could be nerve-wracking as well. He was sure that, for Doms, it could not be easy to scene with a claimed submissive. It encompassed a completely different level of responsibility. It was clear that were Jamie to be harmed outside of the consented part of the scene, Mateo would not take it well. However he had no worries. Mike seemed not only a kind and thoughtful man, he also seemed to him to be a skillful Dominant. "I'm feeling good Sir. Anticipating an incredible scene."

He smiled at the other's words. "You're very kind. And I am excited about this as well. Can I have your limits and your safeword once again before we get started on this? As well as things that may not be limits but you would like for me to avoid." Mike expressed, stepping up beside Jamie where he lay.

"I use the stop light system, Sir, though if I need a hard stop I also have a safeword. Veritas. My limits are bathroom play and humiliation, with a soft limit to blood play." He rattled off the information that was so vital and yet could become rote. "I can't think of anything I would like you to avoid Sir. I quite like being pushed ever so slightly past my physical limits. Use this body, Sir. That is my greatest pleasure."

"Very good. That's something that I can work with. And I will remember your safe word." Mike assured him. He held back a moan when Jamie told him to use his body and push him if he could. "Very well. Used you will be." He mused, dragging his nails along Jamie's chest. His hands moved to undo Jamie's pants and pull them down, setting them aside. "You're very handsome."

Jamie wasn't usually given to it, but he felt his chest flush a little at the compliment. He lifted his hips up to ease the removal of his pants. He felt that familiar rush of being exposed completely to someone. He loved it and couldn't help the slight rise of his hips toward Mike. "Thank you Sir."

"Such a sweet boy too. Your Dom is very lucky." Mike offered kindly, letting his hand rub up and down the other's chest, nails dragging along his skin. He teased at his nipples, a smirk forming on his lips. "I'm happy we're getting to scene, Jamie. This bingo card has given me the opportunity to step out and actively do things with people I haven't had the chance to talk to.

He hoped that was true. "I agree Sir." He sighed and closed his eyes, back arching as Mike's nails scrapped pleasantly along his skin. "I think this is going to be more than just a blocked off square on my bingo card. It's going to be an scene I think of often."

His eyebrow quirked at Jamie's words and he smiled, pleased. "I'm happy to hear you say that." He slid his hand down and palmed over Jamie's cock, his thumb paying careful attention to the head as he watched and listened for the reactions that would come from the other; wanting him to be prepared in a few different ways before he brought the icy hot into the equation.

"Huh." His back arched again. "Sir." His voice was already breathless. Mike's hands were very skilled. Jamie's eyes were closed as he gave himself up to the sensations of a strong hand exploring his cock and finding all of the most sensitive spots. "God, feels so good Sir."

He continued working the other's cock until it was hardened and he smirked softly. "You're so hard for me. Amazing." He said with a chuckle before moving his hand back up to the other's nipples. He tweaked them and then moved to grab some lube. "I'm going to open you up a little bit. Have you wanting for me everywhere."

"Yes Sir. So hard for you." His hips pressed up and then gasped when his nipples were squeezed. "Ha... ahhh... Sir... Sir need you." For someone who seemed so reserved, when he submitted he had learned to give himself to it completely. To give himself to the Dom, give up control. "Yes please Sir."

He smirked as his hips pressed up, enjoying the movements and sounds that let him know that the submissive was enjoying this as much as he was himself. He covered his fingers generously and then began to tease at his hole, his other hand palming his cock once again in order to keep him hard and wanting and ready.

He breathed pressed out against Mike's finger to open himself up to him. He moaned wantonly. "Feels good Sir." He felt so much need, so much want. His body was writhing no matter how much he tried to keep still.

"That's good, Jamie. I'm glad that it feels good. Just enjoy this." The pain with pleasure would surely come soon, but he wanted to make sure that Jamie was good and ready for that. Once his finger had slipped inside of him, Mike grinned. "Just opening up for me so perfectly." He fucked his finger inside of him slowly, opening him up more.

Jamie obeyed the Dom's instructions, letting himself get out of his head and into his head to just enjoy each and every sensation. He was tight, but the finger was doing its job opening him up for whatever was to come.

"Very good. Just breathe. That's right." Jamie was being so perfect. He was attentive and also so full of expressions. Mike could tell exactly how much he was enjoying everything and he loved it. He slipped his finger out of him and cleaned his hands before grabbing the icy hot. "I'm not going to put too much on anywhere. Just enough for you to feel it. But I really need you to let me know if it's too much."

Jamie nodded and then caught his breath to speak. "Yes Sir. I will let you know." He was getting excited for the sensations. The slow build had prepped him and also heightened his perceptions of each and every sensation. He couldn't wait for the icy hot to start working. "I'm ready Sir. Thank you."

"Good boy. Just let yourself feel and experience something new." He grabbed a glove and slipped it on before adding some of the icy hot to his covered fingers. He then brought his hand to Jamie's chest, drawing a line down the center of his stomach to see what he experienced from just that.

The icy hot felt cool almost immediately or more precisely his skin felt like it was hot, but the air around it was ice cold. He actually shivered at the sensation.

He grinned at the response and then caused another line along his stomach, watching his body react to the feeling. Once Jamie had gotten somewhat used to the sensation, he let his fingers, with more icy hot, circle a nipple.

Jamie was awash in the sensations. As a lover of sensory play he was familiar with temperature play, but this was something different. The temperatures came from with the body, not from without. He gasped when Mike encircled his nipple with the gel. "Hahhhh."

"Tell me how you're feeling, Jamie. Be honest with me." Mike instructed, wanting to make sure that nothing that he was doing too much. He knew that he had told Jamie to be honest with him about how he was feeling at all times and to safeword if he needed to, but he knew that sometimes it could be hard for a submissive to actually do. Not that anything Jamie was doing in that moment screamed needing to stop.

"I feel as though I'm burning in a freezing room Sir." The muscles of his abdomen rippled. "It makes me want more. Your hands are like ice. Ice that ignites a flame. Please touch me more, Sir." He was feeling greedy, needing more.

"Very good asking, Jamie. I'm glad you remembered your manners." Mike said with a low chuckle as he collected more of the icy hot on his fingers and touched the other nipple, thumbing over it with a purpose.

He wasn't sure how he was remembering his manners. It might have been pure habit or luck, but he was pleased that he had done well. His nipples were raised to stiff peaks by the sensations. His breath came fast and heavy.

When he was satisfied with how Jamie was reacting to the sensations, he grabbed some more and then brought his hand down, coating the outside of his hole, but making sure not to go inside.

The sensitive skin of his rim spasmed as the gel made contact with it. He gasped and moaned. He understood now people who used these gels as stimulants. It was both numbing and heightening at the same time. His hips jumped as his body looked for more contact.

He was intrigued when Jamie arched into the touch. He hadn't been expecting that necessarily, but he was very pleased with the response. He dipped into Jamie's hole with one finger, eager to see what new sounds he could raise from him. "You feel so good around my finger, Jamie. Just clenching around me."

He could feel his body clenching around the intrusion though in truth it was operating completely of it's own accord. He was beyond words really. Instead he was reduced to groans, moans, and needed mewls.

He removed his fingers, pulling on another glove and then slicking both hands in the icy hot. One hand moved back to his hole, slipping back inside as the other wrapped around Jamie's cock. It was hard and weeping and Mike couldn't help but lean down to lick at the tip.

"Huhhnn... Sir!" he called out when he took hold of his cock and licked the tip. The dueling sensations were overwhelming. He was leaking pre-cum and could feel his orgasm building, but knew that he did not have permission to cum. "Sir... Sir.. I'm too close."

Hearing that Jamie thought that he was too close, he pulled his mouth and hands back. "And what do you do when you feel like you're too close to cumming? You've been a good boy. What should you do?" Mike question, waiting to see what his response was to that question.

"Tell you Sir." Jamie wasn't sure if that was the correct answer. And he very much hated not having the correct answer. "What would you have me do Sir. I don't wish to cum until you allow it."

He smiled at the answer that was given. "You're a good boy, Jamie. You can ask to cum. Tell me how much you want it and need it. If you do well enough, maybe I'll let you cum for me."

He sighed in relief at having answered correctly. "Yes Sir. Yes, I need to cum. Please... please I need it. My body... my body is on fire. I need. Fuck me Sir. Make me cum. Please."September 8, 2020

"That's a good boy. Tell me just how much you need to cum." He waited, making the submissive cry out to him for a few more moments before he nodded to himself. "You can cum whenever you need to Jamie." He assured him, before leaning down to wrap his mouth around the tip of his cock again, his finger fucking into him once more.

Mike did not hold back with his praise. Something that Jamie secretly loved so much. To be told that you were good and that you had done well. He did his best to hold off as long as possible wanting to extend the experience as much as possible, but when the Dom wrapped his lips around the head of his cock while his fingers invaded him so perfectly he had no choice. With permission given he cried out one last time. "I'm cumming... Oh, Sir..." His head pressed back as he tumbled over the edge cumming hard.

As the cum painted the inside of him mouth, he hummed softly and flicked his tongue against the head, cleaning him up before he pulled away from his cock. "You did so well for me, Jamie. Very proud of you. I'm going to let you lay here and rest for a minute while I go get something to clean you up, alright?"

Jamie nodded as he tried to recover his breath. He was vaguely aware that Mike had not cum in the scene and that he needed to check that the Dom had gotten everything out of the scene that he wanted. Yes they were playing the game and attempting to get points but he also wanted to make sure they both walked away pleased with the experience.

Mike made his way to grab a wash cloth and then returned quickly. He started off by washing off Jamie's chest and then moved to his cock to wipe that clean as well. "Is everything still feeling okay, Jamie?" Mike questioned, taking care to ensure that he cleaned off the sensitive skin well.

The cool cloth felt good against his over-heated skin. He nodded. "I feel wonderful, Sir." He let the man work to clean him up. "But Sir, are you alright?" He didn't want to assume that the Dom needed sexual satisfaction, but he did feel compelled to make sure Mike felt satisfied with the scene.

Mike smiled when Jamie asked if he was alright. "Sweet boy. I am more than alright. This was very enjoyable. And perhaps it is something that we could try again in the future. I have...a few ideas that I might like to engage in with you; if you're willing and your dom allows." Mike mused before moving to clean as much of Jamie's hole as he could as well.

Jamie smiled and relaxed as he stopped worrying and let Mike finish taking care of him. The sweet way in which he praised and assured him let him float on the submission and pain endorphins. "I would like that very much Sir. Very much indeed. My Dom will be so pleased to hear what a wonderful scene we had and I'm sure he will feel confident trusting me to your care. He would probably enjoy talking with you Sir. You have such a similar way about you."

Mike smiled at the other's words and set aside the cloth when he felt comfortable being done, running his fingers through Jamie's short hair. "Well perhaps I'll reach out to him when the craziness of this bingo stuff is over and out of the way." He suggested. "I'm very glad you would like to scene again, I'll be looking forward to it."

#bingo #mike #bingo20

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 5 years

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COTW 16? Update

Despite being pregnant, Eren's body had tried to send him into heat. They'd talked a little over the photographs, until Eren had shut down, murmuring that he needed to testify, before leaving the dining room table. His mate taking himself to bed, locking himself away, and leaving Levi with a sick sense of worry as he left for work again. Eren still locked away when he came home, and wasn't up come morning. He knew Eren would take care of Viren, but with his specialist appointment the following day, he didn't want the omega under any unnecessary stress, so called Hanji. Hanji happy to take Viren for the night, which would give Eren some space to breathe and prepare himself. When he came home from work that night, Eren came striding out. He didn't pause before pushing his lips to Levi's, growling into his mouth as he tried to pull him closer. Led into Eren's room, his mate was almost frenzied he pushed him into nest and begged him to mount him. Levi tried to be gentle, yet after cleaning him up, he'd been stuck with simmering desire in the base of his stomach. Eren didn't really want this, he knew that, but his mate wouldn't take no for an answer. Leaving him alone in his room Levi fled back to their room, closing the door and sitting with his back to it as Eren started pounding against it, sobbing for him. He wanted to cave in, and to soothe his mate until he was purring mess, but that wasn't what Eren really needed right now. It was a small eternity before Eren finally stopped knocking, Levi wrecked with guilt over doing the responsible adult thing. He could have given in. He wanted to give in, but they'd talked about it. Eren wasn't ready and he respected his omega's wishes... even if they really fucking sucked. Falling asleep against the door, he woke with a stiff back and a crink in his neck. Fuck. He hadn't meant to fall asleep. He'd supposed to just stay there until Eren went to his room, then he was supposed to check in with his omega. Dragging himself off the floor, he felt revolting. His clothes stuck to him with sweat, and in all the wrong places. Shit. Today was going to be hard enough without him looking like shit. He needed a shower, and roughly 12 extra strong cups of tea. Eren's door was closed, so Levi showered first. He didn't want to wake his mate, only to abandon him again. Trying the handle, his mate's door was unlocked. Eren's bed has been transformed into a lavish nest, with all of his blankets and pillows gathered, and though wrecked, it was clear he'd taken his time to thoroughly prepare it. Amidst the messof blankets, Eren's hair was poking out. A mess he itched to straighten up for him, but he didn't dare. He knew better than to violate the sanctity of his mate's nest. Instead he sat on the edge of it, not entering without being invited. Shaking Eren's shoulder, he woke his love, Eren trying to hide in his blankets with a long groan. He reaching out, Eren snaked an arm around his waist "Eren, we have to get up" "Noooo. Sleepy" "Your appointment's today" "I'm not moving" Clinging to him tightly, it seemed Eren didn't want him moving either "Eren, I know you don't want to move, but if you don't want to go to your appointment covered in slick and cum, you kind of have to" His words caused Eren to release him, his omega shifting back from his a scent filling with guilt as he pulled his blanket down over his face "Shhh... hey. It's ok" "I... fuck... heat" "As eloquent as always, but yes, your body tried to send you into heat" "I'm sorry" "No. It's ok. But are you ok?" "I feel wrecked" "Are you mad?" "No... I probably would have been feeling even worse... uh. Thank you" "I've already had a shower, so take your time. I'll make breakfast" "Am I allowed to eat?" Levi drew his brow in confusion "Why wouldn't you be?" "I don't know how these appointments work" "Today we meet with the specialist and then we'll discuss our options. They won't be doing anything today" "Are you sure?" "I'm sure. Are you coming out of your nest?" "I don't want to move. I'm beached" "I'm not coming in there to pull you out. This is your nest" "I think I'm literally beached... I have the stuck. Just leave me here" "I'm not leaving you in here" "Fiiiine. You're going to have to leave though. Things under here are a mess" "Ok. Just call out for me if you need help" "Mmm... ok..." "I love you " Coming out the bathroom in time for their scrambled eggs to be fresh from the pan, his mate had looked lost as he gazed across the apartment "Where's Viren?" "He's with Hanji. I thought you could use the rest before today, and we'll pick him up on the way home" "Oh..." "I thought you could use the rest" "You said... it's... I miss him" "It's only for a few hours, then we'll pick him up. I don't have to go in until after your appointment" "Are you sure? I could go alone" "You're not going alone. You're my mate and they're our children. I'm going to be holding your hand every step of the way" "Are you sure you really want to see them? It... doesn't look great" "I've seen the scans Eren. I know what we've gotten into and we'll figure out what's best for our pups. Why don't you sit? I'll bring breakfast over to you" Eren looked slightly guilty as he curled up on the recliner. Titan coming running to him, the cat had been in Viren's room "I don't like not sitting at the dining table. It doesn't feel right" "When I get a day off, we'll all go together and choice something. We need to start picking up things for the pups" "I... think we should wait" "Why?" This wasn't going to turn out like the whole wedding fiasco was it? I still wanted to marry Eren, but the trial had driven it from his mind. Though it was a little surprising that Eren hadn't found the ring yet, given the amount of cleaning he liked to do "In case they make me abort" "No can make you abort" "I'm an omega. They can literally force me to" "And I'm telling you they can't" Carrying his breakfast over, Levi snagged the coffee table with foot to pull it closer to Eren, before placing it down and lifting Titan from Eren's hold "Good god, you've got fat" "He's not fat. He's fluffy" "Then we need to start shaving him and selling his fur off" "He's perfect as he is" "He's a fatty. I bet the moment I place him down, he's going to run for his food" "I'm not taking that bet. I wish the hardest part of my day was jumping on the kitchen counter" "No one is stopping you from jumping on the kitchen counter" "That seems like effort. If I jump on the counter, do I still have to go?" "You do... its better to know everything than just worrying about it" "I hate when you're right" "I know, now eat your breakfast then we'll head in" * Eren fell silent as they sat in the waiting room. They'd been sent for an ultrasound, which Eren hadn't been able to handle. His omega had taken one look at their pups, then closed his eyes as silent tears formed. The tumour had clearly grown, though both pups were still alive. Both their little heartbeats filled the room, sent Eren into a meltdown. His hold on his hand grew limp, Eren turning his face from the direction of the screen, while the woman performing the scan tried to reassure them that Eren was in good hands, and offered her sympathy over what they were going through. He supposed he could understand that Eren didn't want to get more attached to them, when he could lost them, but he knew it was too late for Eren to putting those particular walls up. His mate loved the pups, just as much as he did. In the end, his fiancée kept his eyes closed until the technician finally wiped gel off his stomach and they were sent back up to the fourth floor to wait. Like everything in life, the wait is usually worse than the actual appointment. Holding Eren's hand, he pressed kisses to the back of it, having realised that Eren was going to be answering any of questions any time soon. By the time Eren's name was called, they'd already been waiting for over an hour. Eren had been to the bathroom twice in that time, returning and looking paler each time he did. His scent was verging on panic, leaving all the alphas on edge as Levi led him over to the man that had called them through. They'd both thought they'd be taken into the consultation room, but instead, Eren's vitals were taken, as was his previous medical history and the complications during his first pregnancy. Levi was left to answer, while Eren stared down at his stomach. Once the short examination was over, they were sent back to the waiting room for another half an hour long wait. This time when Eren's name was called, his fiancée's knees gave out when he stood. Looping his arm around Eren's waist, Levi kept him propped up until Eren finally took a small step "I'm here. I've got you" Giving a curt nod, the pair of them made their way back into the hall they'd followed the nurse into before. This time, they were led past the nurses office, then another four doors down. Sitting behind her desk, the specialist was already waiting. The woman was on the youthful side of old. The roots of her hair were peppered with grey hairs, while her face was relatively wrinkle free. Rising from behind her desk, she gestured to the two chairs in front of it "Hello, I'm Doctor Reed. Please take a seat" Levi moved his chair closer to Eren's, his mate sitting down and immediately trying to curl into himself. Placing his hand on Eren's thigh, he squeezed softly "So. Which one of you is Eren?" Eren didn't get the joke, raising his hand slightly to indicate he was "Sorry. Just a little humour. Now, I understand this is your second pregnancy, and you've also suffered through a partial miscarriage. It's my job to make sure this little pup lives to meet his parents, and I'm going to my very best to make that happen. I can't make any promises, and I won't. Not all pups survive this, and not all mothers survive the birth. Now that I've got the scary talk out the way, I'm going to have give you a quick examination, then we'll talk about your options. Are you able to hop up on that examination table for me?" Reed smiled at them, while Eren looked to him "It's ok. I'm not going anywhere" "I wouldn't dream of asking your alpha to leave, and I promise all I wish to examine is your stomach" She was good with him. Levi was quietly impressed by her soothing tone. He supposed this wasn't her first dance "See. I'm not going anywhere" Nodding his consent, Levi fussed over Eren as he walked over to the examination table, Levi helping him up "Excellent" Snapping on a pair of blue plastic gloves, the woman moved to Eren's side "Let me know if you feel any discomfort, pain or pressure" Nodding, Eren squeezed his hand. There were a couple of times that Eren whispered "there", but the woman didn't look terribly phased by it. She was still smiling as she stripped off her gloves "Alright. I hope that wasn't terrible. You can take a seat again, take your time to gather your feet under you" Mumbling a thanks, Levi "helped" Eren off the table and back to sit. Washing her hands and retaking her seat, she opened the file marked with Eren's name "Now. You're 20 weeks along... ok. Right. I see... Eren are you able to provide me with a full medical history? I'd like to hear it from you" Eren looked to him with pleading eyes "Eren has high anxiety levels. I know his medical history, so would you mind if I filled you in?" "Eren, do you mind if Levi speaks on your behalf?" "He... can say it better" "Alright, Eren. Levi, if you will" Starting with Eren's unpredictable heats, Levi hoped Eren didn't mind him getting too personal. It was for the good of their pup that the woman knew as many details as possible. As the talked, she took a few notes, flicking between pages in Eren's file as she did. The whole time Levi was talking, he was wishing she'd explain what she saw on the scan. Eren was one long moment away from breaking down, but it didn't stop her from making them wait another small eternity once he'd finished explaining everything, though he had left Eren's trip to Karanes out of it... the realisation that his mate's life, and the life of the pups, was in the hands of a woman he knew nothing about set his alpha on edge, causing him to grind his teeth before catching himself doing so "Ok. Now, have you been told what a Sacrococcygeal teratomas is?" "We have..." "Basically it's a big tumour right here... at the base of the spine" Taking a pen and piece of paper, she drew a very rough diagram, pointing to an alarmingly big sac "There are four types of tumour. Looking at your scans, I would be inclined to agree it's a type one, but there is only so much we can see in a scan. When you admitted into hospital, the growth measured 11 millimetres, which is a fair size for a pup so small, the grown now measures a little over 15 millimetres, so it's still growing" Looking down to her file, she flicked through a few pages "The biopsy results show the tumour to benign, which is a good thing" Flicking back through her pages, Levi resisted the urge to rip the file from her hands as she did "I see an abortion was recommended" "He's not having an abortion" "Eren can speak for himself. As I was saying, I see an abortion was recommended, and I can see why. At the moment, that pup is trying his hardest to grow, but with the rich blood supply of the tumour, more energy is going to the tumour, causing his heart to work even harder to keep up with it. Heart failure is common in cases like this, as is the risk of miscarriage and early labour. There has already been a thickening his placenta, as well as signs of excess fluid. It's going to be a hard pregnancy, but if we can get you through to your 30th week, I believe you all have an excellent chance. Of course, a caesarean will be necessary, followed by surgery immediately following birth. There are other things we can do, but for now, waiting is the best option. They're still a little too young for me to be recommending the surgery route. You also need to be prepared to abort. I know you don't want an abortion, and I know it's a difficult decision, but there is only a finite amount of space in Eren's womb, the tumour may only be on pup, but it may lead to complications with the second" 30 weeks seemed like a life time... especially when Eren was having so much trouble already... now the choice to continue the pregnancy could cost them both pups... He... what the hell was he supposed to say to that. A risk of miscarriage. A risk of early labour. A risk of losing both pups and a risk of losing Eren. His tiny world they'd made together was shattering around him. His alpha was urging him to grab Eren and to flee before the woman could drop any more bad news on their lap. After a few moments, Levi found his voice again. Eren had said he needed to testify after looking at the photos, but after hearing all of that, he couldn't let him. He wanted to lock him in their apartment and never let him out "Eren has been called to give evidence in a trial. Will he be able to do that?" "I certainly wouldn't recommend it. Pregnancy is hard enough, a pregnancy with complications more so. Too much stress on you and your pups could lead to all kinds of complications" "Are you able to write us a recommendation that he doesn't take the stand? The officer in charge of the case will only take a statement from an impartial physician" "One look at his current medical state should tell any trained professional that he is not in the right frame of being to be giving a testimony" "Unfortunately they tend to hold the fact that Eren is an omega over him" Moving back to the first page of Eren's file, Reed read as she spoke "Yes. That is unfortunate. Now. Eren, we will be monitoring the tumour growth over the coming weeks. As I work on a rotation basis, I'll schedule you in for 4 weeks from today. 4 millimetres is a fair amount of growth, despite being so small to us. I want you to have another ultrasound in two weeks time, then a 3-dimensional ultrasound before you come to see me again. If you begin experiencing pain or bleeding, do not ignore it. You may still have sex, you no doubt by now feel effects of pregnancy, and the scent of a heat lingers on you. If we are forced to perform an emergency caesarean, or surgery upon the pup, it will take time to heal, so for now, make the most of being able to be intimate with your partner" Eren blushed beautifully at her words "Eren has always had unconventional heats. With the stress attempting to send him into heat, will it harm the pups" "An omegas heat is dependent on their mood, as well as their biology. It is important to make sure he feels comfortable and safe, a heat out of synch means they're crying out for comfort. Nesting will help, so nest as much as you like. There's absolutely no detrimental effects from nesting. There are mood stabilisers that can be prescribed, but there is a chance of side effects which may accelerate tumour growth. If the stress and pressure get to be too much, I would recommend talking to your normal physician about it. Long term use of sedatives are not recommended due to their addictive nature" He knew that all too well. That's part of the reason he hated dosing Eren unless completely necessary "Then for now, we just wait?" "I know it's a hard thing to do. But you're in this together" Turning to her laptop that was pushed to the side, Reed fell silent as she tapped away on the keyboard. Whatever she was doing, only took a few moments to finish before she printed it. Signing in multiple places, she passed the small tree over to him "One letter. I've listed the medical history you provided to our intake nurse, as well as my own conclusions from your scans, Eren. Computers are marvellous like that. Whether you use it is up to you. I strongly believe Eren should not take the stand in his current condition" Pushing her chair back, the woman rounded her desk as she bristly walked towards the door. Levi and Eren both standing to move towards the door of the room, Eren's hand firmly in his as they did "It was lovely to meet both of you" "You too. And thank you for seeing us" "And I'll you both again in four weeks time" Eren was glued to his side as they walked through the hospital and down to Levi's RangeRover. Standing beside the passenger door, Eren didn't seem to want to let him go. Raising Eren's hand to kiss the back of it, his omega let out a soft sigh "It was a lot" "It was more than a lot. I... I didn't know the other pup could be affected" "That's a worse case scenario" "Why is this happening?" A kiss on the back of the hand wasn't going to cut it. Pulling Eren into a hug, he nuzzled into his omega's neck. Eren was so very confused "I don't know. But for now, we wait" "I don't want to wait. I want the pup to be ok" "You heard what she said, they're still a little too small for surgery right now" "I don't care... they're hurting and I can't do anything" "You're doing plenty" "God. This was so much easier before I knew it was twins... before I knew it was... it was supposed to be more than twins" Eren's voice was cracking with emotions, yet as his mate began to nuzzle him back, he felt no tears "Don't give up on them yet. If they're anything like you, they'll be as stubborn as hell" "You always say I'm stubborn about all the wrong things" "Wanna know a secret? You might be stubborn as hell and drive me up the wall from time to time, but I love that stubborn streak of yours. It makes me so fucking proud that you dig your heels in, or you fight for what you believe is right" "So the next time you tell me off for being stubborn, I can ignore you" "No. That's why it's called a secret, you're not supposed to know" Eren kissed the crook of his neck "It's a good secret. I'll let you keep it. I've got one of my own" Levi was sure if he looked inside Eren's brain, he wouldn't find just one secret in there "Oh? What is that?" "I love you, Lee. And I love winding you up" "I knew it!" "Mmm. But don't tell Levi I told you" "Pfft. Like I'd do that. I love you too, Eren. Let's drop this letter into Floch, then pick up our son" "I miss him" "I know you do. I'm sorry I can't stay this afternoon" "It's alright. Work is important" "And yet, I would rather be here with you" "She said I need to be more affectionate" "You're affectionate enough" "If I was, I wouldn't be trying to go into heat. Maybe you should just force yourself on..." "I am not going to force myself on you. You my mate, not just some I sleep with. We'll start slow. Cuddles on the sofa. Sleeping next to each other. That kind of thing" "I know I smell good to you" "Then I'll jerk off. You're too important to me" "And what am I supposed to do?" "Do about what?" "When I'm..." "Oh. When you're horny?..." Slipping his hands down to Eren's arse, Levi gave a firm squeeze "You think of me" "Don't I always? What I mean is... I want to be able to touch you too. As it is, I owe you two hand jobs in the shower" "You don't owe me anything, but if you really want to make it up to me... I know how you can do that" "How?" "Give me a kiss and we'll call it even" Eren kissed his shoulder "There" "I had that coming, didn't I?" "Mmm, maybe a little. Let's go get Viren. I really want to hold him" "Do I get another kiss?" Eren kissed his shoulder again "You're a shit" "So you tell me" Pulling back from Eren's neck, Eren had a soft smile on his lips. Leaning in, Levi was finally given his kiss. A real kiss, and the deepest one they'd shared for days. Breaking the kiss, his omega pushed him back "We need to pick our son up, and I am not going anywhere near Floch, not anymore than I have to" "That's fine with me"

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kiruuuuu · 6 years

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Look. Here’s the deal, @forever-smiley - I said I don’t do anything explicit for requests, but first of all I like you and your comments never fail to brighten up my day, thank you so much for that ❤ You’re a darling. Also, I didn’t know how much I wanted to write this until you requested it, so... I wrote it. And went overboard. A lot. As, uh, usual.

So yes. I hope you enjoy this, even if Smoke gets more than he bargained for! Also, as a side note, this can be read completely independently from Echo Chamber. (Rating E, absolute PWP with gratuitous bickering, ~6k words I wrote 6k for this oh my God)

“It’ll be fine, babe. Just trust me.”

The words, murmured against his ear as the second pair of handcuffs clicks closed around his ankles, do nothing to reassure Mute who is now incapacitated, mostly immobile while sitting on one of their chairs in the kitchen, fully nude. “You realise that’s probably the worst thing you could’ve said right now?”, he retorts sceptically, gingerly testing out how much freedom of movement he has – it’s not a lot though he can shift around on the seat quite a bit which he suspects is intentional. “Are you sure all of this is necessary?”

Smoke’s grin is nothing but predatory and he sinks down onto Mute’s thighs, kisses him and simultaneously takes his half-hard penis in his hand, starts to stroke it lightly while his tongue glides over Mute’s teeth, coaxing the first gentle hums out of him. Foreplay with Smoke is either non-existent or ridiculously drawn out – if it’s the former, Smoke ensures Mute is either just hard or prepared enough before they get to the main part, the undressing often neglected in favour of sticking something into someone as soon as possible, whereas the latter usually leaves him sopping wet with precum, trembling and wondering where in the world Smoke suddenly found that much patience. Today seems to be a longer session, even if the fervent snogging and firm strokes might suggest otherwise.

“Have you done this with other people before?”, he wants to know when they’re both trying to catch their breath in between kisses. The question is warranted, especially after that debacle with the really quite expensive champagne and the catastrophe that were Twitch’s tasers which turned out to be extremely effective in shutting Smoke up for a while yet not really suited for the bedroom. He’s unsure what awaits him today and can’t deny a vague sense of dread.

“Of course! They all bloody hated it”, Smoke replies cheerily and reaches for the lube. Well. That’s just great, isn’t it? Mute should’ve known better than to agree to any of Smoke’s wild ideas that usually precede utter chaos and admittedly magnificent entertainment. It seems that today, he is going to be the entertainment, however, and he’s not sure he likes it. Suspiciously, he watches his lover coat his fingers in the viscous liquid and wonders how he’s going to get tortured in a moment; he’s not familiar with the term he encountered earlier and Smoke explicitly forbade him to look it up. It’s probably just a euphemism for endless, unfulfilled teasing, touches that are too light and -

Mute sharply sucks air in through his teeth as Smoke grabs his now fully erect cock firmly and immediately begins jerking him off. It’s hard and simple, no flourishes, no unnecessary coquettish gestures, just a proper hand job that’s capable of getting him off in minutes, the stimulation from the slick slide enough to wipe the doubtful look off his face. His hips start bucking into the fast strokes and he allows himself a content moan but doesn’t give in entirely. Because Smoke, still clothed, is grinning at him wolfishly, drinking in his reactions – he wouldn’t be doing this if there wasn’t anything in it for him as well and Mute refuses to believe that merely watching him come all over himself is enough.

For the moment, he just enjoys the ride, revels in the fact that Smoke knows exactly what he likes, the tempo and strength perfect and he feels himself getting closer, approaching his climax and is not at all surprised when Smoke just stops. He uses the opportunity to calm his breathing, sink back into the chair and simply watch as his lover unbuttons his trousers and pulls out his own dick that’s just as stiff as Mute’s. “Might as well”, he murmurs as an odd explanation, “by the time I’m done with you, I can probably go again.”

Before Mute can object to the ominous statement, there’s a solid shaft sliding along his that picks up where Smoke’s hand left off a moment ago, a fist closing around their heads ensuring the necessary friction and Mute is back to basking in his arousal that’s slowly building up. As much of a shithead as Smoke normally is, he’s nothing but attentive when they have sex – attentive, creative, curious, experimental, affectionate, ridiculously hot… and he’s getting closer again, can feel the release nearing due to Smoke thrusting against him, only his cock and arms exposed but Mute is familiar with this sight, has had the little demon ride him so many times and he stops.

He senses a pattern, huffs impatiently and fixes the smirking imp with a level stare. “Is that what we’re doing now?”

“It’s what you’re doing”, Smoke corrects him gleefully, still stroking his own erection and leaning back on Mute’s lap to allow him a better view. “Have to – ah, fuck – prepare you a little, otherwise it’s no fun, innit?” He groans and it’s entirely irrational that the sight alone of a guy jerking off to him should arouse Mute to this extent but it does nonetheless, never fails to make heat rise in him. It happens often enough that he’s occupied with daily tasks and turns around only to find Smoke staring at him and fondling his boner; it’s made worse by Mute usually giving in and either ending up face down moaning into the sofa cushions or witnessing an ecstatic Smoke bouncing on his cock. He himself has a very healthy libido, courtesy of having focused almost solely on studying in his younger years, so now that he’s blessed with someone as open and enthusiastic as Smoke, he suddenly gets what all the fuss is about.

The weight is lifted from his thighs as Smoke gets up, still working his cock and Mute’s mouth waters at the prospect of Smoke allowing him to practise his blow jobs but instead, his lover pats his cheek and says: “Open your mouth.” Mute obeys, extends his tongue, too, and holds Smoke’s gaze for a moment before it unashamedly travels over Mute’s body, taking in his broad chest, restrained arms and legs and his erection that’s proudly jutting out, dark and glistening. “You’re so fucking beautiful, babe”, Smoke tells him with feeling, his hand speeding up, muscles tensing and then he comes with a suppressed moan, spurts out semen onto Mute’s face and chest, hits his tongue and cheek and lets it drip down on his abdomen, the liquid hot on his skin and bitter in his mouth and it’s fucking erotic, makes his dick throb and his hands clench into fists.

He swallows what he can, tries to lick the rest off his cheek and Smoke helps him with what he can’t reach yet the come on his torso stays, slowly running down his chest and leaving trails that quickly turn cool. “You’re like a dog”, Mute states, smiling up at Smoke who’s still panting, “marking your territory.” His lover’s expression slowly changes from bliss to amusement and Mute realises in horror what he just implied. “Oh God, don’t take that literal – I swear, if you piss on me, I’ll break your arms first and then make you lick it off.”

“You’re cuffed to a chair, the only arms you can feasibly break right now are your own.”

“Well, you’ll have to free me eventually.”

“Nah, not really. I can feed you now and then and suck you off twice a day to keep you happy.”

“How about you do that right now and forget about whatever it is you planned?”

“No chance. Maybe you’ll even end up liking it, babe.” Smoke wipes his hand on Mute’s side and effortlessly evades the knee that tries to hit him in retaliation before dragging a second chair closer, next to the one Mute is trapped on. “The most important thing is that you don’t come yet, babe. Got it? Don’t come. Tell me when you’re close or give me any other indication but if you blow your load, you’re going to regret it.”

It’s not an empty threat, Mute knows it, and so he merely nods and flinches slightly when a freshly lubed up hand encircles his dick once more, the gel cold on his heated skin. Once again, he’s being wanked just to his liking yet expects it not to last – which it doesn’t. Smoke pauses now and then, watching him intently and halting whenever he bucks into the tight grip or produces a particularly loud sound before continuing the stimulation. Mute tries to bite back his groans, to not react in order to trick Smoke into pushing him over the edge but his own body betrays him, his abs tense up, his thigh muscles show and his breath hitches, indicating to Smoke that he’s approaching his orgasm once more.

Eventually, Mute catches on to what he’s doing: he’s very carefully nearing the brink of Mute’s climax, testing the waters, checking how far he can go. He’s taking him there in baby steps, always pushing him a little further and it’s not like Mute hasn’t done this to himself before. Smoke doesn’t do it usually, not to him, since he either wants Mute to fuck him until he can’t walk or feel him clench around his cock while they come at the same time, and both kind of require Mute not to be on the verge of orgasm or else either of the two scenarios could be ruined in a heartbeat. Right now, however, Smoke can fully concentrate on edging him and it’s actually dizzying to be completely at his mercy, to be awarded his full attention. He actually doesn’t mind it.

Mute concentrates on the feel of his fingers, observes how they alternate between doing absolutely nothing and flying over his shaft, the glide smooth and lovely. Smoke is being exceedingly thorough, his confident movements making Mute’s legs twitch, a distracted smile adorning his lips and he even looks like he’s enjoying himself. “If you keep this up”, Mute murmurs and is interrupted by another wave of near-orgasm that destroys his ability to produce speech for a few seconds, “I’m gonna shoot at least twice as much as you.” The come on his chest has dried by now but even then, the trails are still visible.

“Sure you will”, Smoke responds enigmatically and speeds up. It’s unexpected, according to his pattern he should stop instead and it’s almost too much, pleasure blinds Mute momentarily and he almost allows it, almost gives in to the pulsing need for relief and almost lets it happen – but Smoke told him no and he trusts him, respects him regardless of all the stupid shit he does and so he gasps Smoke’s name and shies away from his hand, his lover getting the hint and halting his movements. Well, mostly. Because now the teasing begins.

When Mute edges himself, he does it in waves – gets himself close, waits until the feeling has subsided a little, then repeats. What Smoke does to him next is pure torture. His fingertips travel over the sensitive head, squeeze it now and then and make it twitch violently, rub over the sweet spot on the underside, press down on his hole and stroke over the shaft. It’s too light to produce enough stimulation but titillating enough to keep Mute in limbo, leave him hovering within sight of his orgasm but not bring him any closer. Whenever his lust threatens to decrease, a few quick jerks catapult him back to where he was and then it’s feathery touches all over again.

After just a few minutes of this, Mute’s muscles are about to cramp, his body is shuddering and his shoulders are starting to hurt from him fighting his restraints. The chains on the cuffs are clinking whenever he moves to finish the job himself, the metal biting into his skin painfully and his fingers grabbing at air. He’s learned not to buck into the cruel fingers after Smoke pinches the inside of his thigh the first two times he does it and so he merely shifts around on the chair and curses heartily. “Let me – rest, at least give me – oh God – give me a moment to – you little turd!”

Smoke chuckles to himself and leans in to kiss him during which Mute realises how fucking charged he is because he nearly creams himself when he feels Smoke’s tongue invade his mouth. He unselfconsciously moans into the kiss, distractedly feels his cock pulsing in the light grip, eager to share its seed but fated to suffer a bit longer. Pretty much everything Smoke is doing right now is the hottest thing Mute has ever experienced, he’s desperate and shaking and when he feels fingers twist one of his nipples, he accidentally bites down on Smoke’s lip so hard he draws blood and earns an indignant yelp. “Shit, shit, come here, I’m sorry”, he whispers hastily and licks the bright red liquid off, sucks on Smoke’s lip and tastes copper and that’s when he gets pushed over the edge.

He wasn’t paying attention to the hand in his crotch, barely noticed the grip tightening but felt Smoke’s absent-minded strokes in his fingertips that can’t have been more than instinct and then it’s too late. With a strangled sound, he withdraws from Smoke and directs his gaze down his own body where, inexplicably, Smoke’s hand has disappeared but his orgasm is happening nonetheless. Only it’s not worth the build-up. Something is wrong, instead of bringing sweet release, he experiences a fraction of the expected relief instead but it’s still pleasurable enough that he can’t help but moan at the sensation. Warmth pools low in his belly, the taste of blood is still on his tongue and he ejaculates almost… lazily, his dick pushing the semen out rather than spurting.

The whole experience isn’t bad but demotivating in a way, he could’ve had a much more satisfying climax that didn’t involve his come sadly dribbling down his shaft but he can complain later. It’s probably been long enough that Smoke can go again, so maybe he can convince him into letting Mute ride him for once, or make him come down his throat or allow him to come down Smoke’s throat and this is when Mute realises his erection isn’t flagging. Quite the opposite, the throbbing in his lower body is fiercer than before, demanding attention and stimulation and he’s still so fucking horny that looking at his lover makes his cock pulse. “James”, he says, worriedly, “that was one of the most disappointing orgasms of my life, but I can still keep going.”

Smoke’s eyes are twinkling. “Isn’t it great? I can keep doing this, fucking bleed you dry, babe, until your balls are empty.”

Oh. “You mean – it’s normal that I’m still hard?”

“Yeah. Until you have a proper orgasm, I can probably ruin -”

“That’s fantastic!”

His lover blinks at him, slightly disbelieving. “Wait – it is?”

“Hell yeah. I thought this was it, but if I can have as many as I want, bloody keep going, what are you waiting for?” Mute expectantly wiggles his hips, suddenly enthusiastic about this whole activity. It seems as if Smoke imagined this whole thing to go a little differently but to his credit, he’s not complaining, merely adds some more lube still and gets back to it. His smugness has disappeared completely and made way for vague bemusement that over time morphs into lust the longer he watches Mute.

Because Mute is getting into it now. His cock is sensitive and raw, just like after a normal orgasm, only now he’s still incredibly turned on – the result is an odd mixture of discomfort and pleasure with the latter quite easily surpassing the former. He welcomes it now, all of it, the satisfying pumps, the merciless teasing, the way Smoke makes him ride the edge; he shows his pleasure openly and doesn’t hold back. In a way, what he’s enjoying above all is Smoke’s fiery gaze that intensifies whenever he exposes his throat in a drawn-out moan, arches his back and displays his ribcage, rolls his hips into the gentle ministrations and tells him to stop if it gets dangerous. He’s ceased struggling against the handcuffs and holds on to the chair for support instead, eagerly spreads his legs to grant Smoke easier access to his crotch.

Again and again he almost finishes, flinches away or orders a pause and every time it gets a little harder to do so. The continuous stimulation is muddling coherent thought and enticing him to let Smoke jerk him to completion but he’s invested now, eager to test out this newfound knowledge, to find out where his boundaries lie. He wants to push his body to its limits and if that means he’s going to stay cuffed to this chair for the next two hours, then so be it. A particularly pleasurable twist of Smoke’s wrist has him growl contentedly and his lover’s eyes darken at the way he squirms under his touches.

“You’re so bloody sexy, babe”, he purrs and scoots closer to nibble at Mute’s throat, “you know what I’m going to do? When you unload, I’m gonna use it as lube and fuck the next one out of you.”

The suggestion sounds magnificent to Mute’s monkey brain but he huffs a laugh nonetheless. “You’re so nasty. Let me – mmh – have the honour, I can probably go on for a while.” He throws his head back on a sensational upstroke and stretches when he feels Smoke’s tongue on his pulse, his teeth by his Adam’s apple.

“Are you saying I’m not gonna have the stamina to satisfy you?”

It’s a predatory growl, full of threats and challenges and Mute is pretty sure at this point that Smoke either experiences ruined orgasms completely differently to him or just never had one at all. Because he’s seriously overestimating himself right now. “That’s exactly what I’m -” He cuts off and Smoke reacts too late, barely fails to withdraw his hand in time and another half-climax rushes through Mute’s body, forcing throaty noises out of him and making his lower half shudder. Now that he knows what’s coming, he can focus more closely on the sensations, his sperm being ejected, his balls drawing up, his abs contracting much weaker than usual. His nails are clawing into the wooden legs and his toes are twitching but he’s still acutely aware of his surroundings instead of lost in pleasure.

Not a bad feeling at all, still strange but he could get used to it. Panting, he watches Smoke stand up, scoop up his jizz and then awkwardly undress his lower half with the help of his other hand before reaching between his legs and seriously just starting to finger himself right then and there. Mute is more desperate than ever to finally come for real and so the view has him biting his lip in desire. His lover is rock hard again, strong legs displaying their muscles and the faces he makes, while bordering on slightly ridiculous, are a sight to behold. “That’s bound to get sticky eventually”, he points out in between heavy breaths and continues to be amazed at the fact that his own dick is unwaveringly stiff.

“Not if your cock pushes it all the way up”, Smoke retorts and somehow manages to keep a straight face despite Mute’s grin.

“Fucking nasty. You should be ashamed to kiss me with that mouth. Use more lube, you don’t want to end up sore.”

“You don’t want to listen to me complaining, more like.”

“Also you should uncuff me, I’m allowed to move now, right?”

“Definitely not. You’ll just end up carrying me to the bedroom and pounding me into the mattress.”

They beam at each other for a moment, full of mutual affection – Smoke has the rare talent to read Mute’s thoughts, intentions and moods like an open book, something no one else manages as reliably as him. He’s usually spot on with his assumptions about Mute’s true motives and now is no exception. “James, have I ever told you how much I lo-”

A mouth on his interrupts him, lips stretched into a smile and they keep snogging as Smoke settles on his lap again, Mute’s slippery erection between his cheeks. “Only a thousand times”, he murmurs against Mute’s tongue that’s apologetically lapping over the visible bite he left earlier.

“That’s not nearly enough”, Mute replies dreamily and, when Smoke wipes his hand on his chest yet again, adds in the same tone of voice: “I’m going to fucking strangle you, you gremlin.”

With a cackle, Smoke grabs his dick, sits up a little and slowly sinks down on it. It’s still extremely sensitive, so the deeper it buries itself in Smoke, the more Mute tries to squirm away, writhing with overstimulation while simultaneously relishing his lover’s scalding tightness of which he could never get enough. The slide is smooth and Smoke only stops once Mute is fully sheathed in him, both of them gasping and adjusting slightly, moving against each other experimentally during which Mute can feel the walls of Smoke’s insides gripping him tightly. He’s all the way back at the beginning again, his orgasm reset where his lust hasn’t and so the whole sensation is overwhelming to the point where he instinctively attempts to hold Smoke in place as soon as he lifts back up and lets Mute’s dick glide back into him, the handcuffs stopping him from doing so.

“You feel so good”, a voice purrs in his ear while he’s busy gasping breathlessly at the intense friction, “you’re bigger than usual.” And mercilessly, Smoke begins riding him properly with fluid movements that are nothing short of erotic, especially coupled with the wet tongue by Mute’s ear and the fingernails dragging down his chest. After the previous hand jobs, the abundance of sensations feels extreme and Mute needs a long while to concentrate on it all, experience it fully. Smoke is gripping him viciously, taking him deep with each motion and working him thoroughly – but there’s a flaw in all this.

He’s trying valiantly, speeds up, adds sloppy kisses and a little nipple play to the mix which Mute welcomes with loud moans and bucks of his hips. It’s indescribably hot and he’s amazed Smoke is showing this much focus, yet when he cards his hands through Mute’s hair, it becomes apparent he looks a little lost. “James, this is lovely”, Mute says quietly, “but I can’t come like this.” It’s not enough – after the expert wanking that never fails to get him off since he’s used to hand jobs being the only path to orgasm in his younger years, his cock needs more. And as exquisite as the whole thing is, as impressive and devoted, it’s simply not enough.

Smoke pauses, breathing heavily, and returns his gaze with furrowed brows. “Alright”, he responds, slowly pulls off Mute’s hard shaft and turns around, sits back down and lets the blunt head breach him again. Mute feels himself throb at the renewed contact, sighs in relief as soon as he bottoms out again and marvels at the beauty that is Smoke’s back while he takes off his shirt and exposes his pale skin to his admirer. Usually, they don’t take clothing off halfway if they get caught up in it, either they start out naked or sweat profusely still in uniform or normal clothes plus the apron Mute put on as a joke or their long pyjamas in winter – if either of them takes a pause in the middle to rip off some fabric it means it’s serious. Mute’s lips are curving into a grin.

“Do it”, he challenges and earns a dark look over Smoke’s shoulder, “make me come. Do your worst.”

And so Smoke does. It’s obvious he’s getting fucking serious now, immediately sets a fast tempo that he won’t be able to keep up all the way, yet he apparently banks on making Mute finish soon; he props himself up on Mute’s knees and offers a show additional to him slamming down his hips: the muscles in his back are dancing under his skin, his shoulder blades protruding and his spine a gorgeous concave. The noises that fall from his lips are magnificent, longing whines and badly suppressed moans. He feels amazing, as usual, hot and perfect and tight, not to mention the fact that Mute can basically watch his cock penetrate him over and over again after he scoots a little forward on the seat, can see it disappear inside Smoke and reach all the right places, judging by the way he twists in pleasure and gets louder at a specific angle.

Under normal circumstances, Mute would probably be gone already but it turns out that this whole thing is basically better than Viagra – he adores every second of it and gladly allows Smoke to tire himself out but once again, it’s not enough. He voices it once his partner has to take a break to catch his breath: “James, I love this. But -”

“Fuck’s sake”, comes the exasperated reply and Smoke leans back against him to reach for the keys on the table, not expecting Mute to grind into him for the hell of it, startling a whimper out of him that’s extremely satisfying, so Mute repeats the motion. What follows is an unnecessarily complicated endeavour to uncuff him without either of them stopping, Smoke pressing against him and moaning in bliss while attempting to somehow unlock the handcuffs at the same time. Mute loves doing this to him, reducing him to nothing but a bundle of nerves in the palm of his hand, at his mercy and uncharacteristically submissive.

Unsurprisingly, it takes forever until he’s free. Smoke rises on shaky legs, looking frazzled and defeated as he watches Mute massage some feeling back into his hands. “Just pick me up”, he says resignedly. He doesn’t need to say it twice.

Grinning broadly, Mute complies and carries him to the adjacent room where he throws the shorter man onto the bed and crawls after him onto the sheets, spreading his legs and pushing a pillow under his lower back in preparation, his actions efficient and practised. Smoke does nothing but observe with a sigh and Mute just laughs at him. “You were so not ready for this”, he states and pours more lube on his erection just to be safe.

“Was I ready for you to turn into a fucking sex fiend? Hell no, how could -” He stops speaking as soon as he feels the head of Mute’s dick on his hole and finishes with a gasp when it’s shoved into him all the way without stopping. Now that he’s not confined to the chair anymore, Mute takes advantage of this new freedom by finally going as fast and hard as he likes. Which is very. His cock is oddly desensitised and overstimulated simultaneously, he feels every centimetre of Smoke’s insides keenly, notices the ridge of his head catching on the tight ring of muscle but at the same time, he’s aware it’ll take a lot of this to get him to come again.

His thrusts start out brutal and only get worse over time, he has no brain capacity left to take Smoke’s pleasure into account as well, instead just holds on to his hipbones and drags him in to meet his movements, drives into him, seeking his own release. Smoke’s legs wrap around him and guide him a little until their owner begins trembling and mewling desperately, so Mute keeps the angle that seems to slowly make his lover go insane. Even so, the legs also attempt to rein him in, soften the snap of his hips and no, that’s not happening. This was Smoke’s idea after all, so he’s not going to go easy on him now.

Actually, it’s pure elation to finally let go and act purely on instinct, to only do what feels good to him – and pounding into Smoke feels brilliant right now. This, at least, is enough, his third orgasm nears at a steady pace, demands for no interruptions and continuous stimulation but with how willing Smoke lets himself be fucked silly, that shouldn’t constitute a problem. They’re both shining with sweat now, panting hard and chasing their climax, Smoke by holding on to the sheets so viciously his knuckles are white, by producing noises that barely sound human and by clenching around the shaft entering him pitilessly, Mute by making skin slap against skin, by reaching deep, by digging his fingernails into fair skin.

He doesn’t know how long he keeps it up, only notices his muscles protesting, his arms starting to feel as if they’re on fire, but Smoke is begging him not to stop now, face contorted in pleasure, hands pushing against the headboard so he can meet Mute’s thrusts more fiercely and he must be getting close, too. He’s using Mute’s name now, repeating it like a mantra and he’s so astoundingly beautiful that Mute doesn’t realise it at first when he orgasms without either of them having touched his dick.

When he notices Smoke rearing up with a moan louder than the other ones, clamping down on him, he belatedly takes hold of his neglected cock that’s sopping wet and strokes it in time with his thrusts, in time with him forcing the climax out of Smoke and watches, amazed, how he shoots sperm all over himself, even reaching up to his cheek, bucking into Mute with a disbelieving expression as he convulses around him. And no, he definitely wasn’t ready for this. It lasts a long time and Mute fucks him through all of it until he sinks back into the sheets, completely spent and slightly dopey. He looks content for all of three seconds when he realises that Mute is still not stopping. “Mark, the fuck, let me wank you if it’s still -”

“I’m so close”, Mute whispers and he is, he can taste it, he just needs a little more – the view of Smoke writhing under him did wonders for his lust and so he keeps slamming into him despite his weak protests that grow louder the longer he keeps going.

“Mark, wait, oh God, I can’t – you fucking tosser, I -”

It’s right there, he feels it in the tips of his toes, just out of reach and he only needs a little, needs Smoke to shut the hell up first and so he does the one thing that somehow comes to mind as a good idea: he scratches down Smoke’s sides, hard. It can’t have been worse than the fact Mute is continuously pummelling him with no signs of stopping but he earns an overdramatic ow! nonetheless as well as the intended effect: Smoke tightens around him, abruptly and fiercely and it’s all he needed.

This orgasm blindsides him with its ferocity, the previous ones in no way, shape or form comparable. It hits Mute like a truck at full speed, tosses him over the edge with such force he can’t even moan, stays completely silent and in awe at such an extreme sensation. He buries himself deep in Smoke and stays there, cock pulsing and throbbing with every spurt and there’s an edge to it; it’s bordering on painful as his body scrambles to expel even more semen after all of what he already ejaculated earlier. It’s sharp and sweet at the same time, has him gasp incredulously as he folds in half, feels his muscles contract as he rests his forehead on Smoke’s shoulder, shuddering and trying to push even deeper somehow, pressing their hips flush.

It subsides with spikes, the aftershocks making him jolt repeatedly and sending a few last waves of blinding pleasure through him as he tries to catch his breath. His heart is racing and he needs to make a conscious effort to relax his muscles, aided by a gentle hand in the nape of his neck, stroking him soothingly and already massaging some of the tension out. He’s suddenly overcome with fondness at this gesture, probably due to all the endorphins and the ecstasy and the fact he’s so stupidly in love with this man that he can’t even imagine life without him anymore.

“I’ve never seen you turn into such a beast”, Smoke murmurs into his ear before he bites at it playfully, “fucking savage. Am I bleeding?”

Mute carefully sits back up and gingerly withdraws his softening dick, brushing his fingertips over the abused hole and making Smoke wince slightly. “Here? No. But you are where I just scratched you. And you look like someone socked you in the mouth.” Blood is welling up on Smoke’s sides – not a lot but the bright red still in stark contrast to his light skin. Mute barely resists licking it off.

“Police brutality”, Smoke says gravely and makes Mute giggle. “Fuck, I can’t feel my legs. I kinda pictured this to go a little different.”

That much is clear. He probably expected Mute to end up begging, imploring him never to be so cruel ever again and he’d do anything, just please, won’t he allow him to suck Smoke’s cock. As much as he enjoys chaos, he prefers to be in control during sex. And… well. That didn’t work out as expected, did it? “You came hands free”, Mute points out with a smirk. “Don’t even pretend to complain, James.”

“I should’ve known you wouldn’t just take it. You’re a little shit who never does what he’s told.”

“I learned from the best.” He leans down for a quick kiss but Smoke holds him in place and presses up against him, smearing his come on Mute’s chest and merely grins when he gets punched in the side. “You’re such a knobhead. I seriously need a shower now.”

“Me too, but I’ll probably need your help. You fucked me boneless.”

Mute gazes down at him, at how dishevelled, exhausted and ravished he looks, and decides he hasn’t suffered enough. “You’ve had a ruined orgasm before, right?”

A deer in headlights look and it’s exactly what he thought – Smoke has no idea what it feels like, merely knows from experience how to do it and that people usually don’t like it, which is why he was so eager to subject Mute to it. “Yes”, he lies cautiously and slowly.

“How did you like it? Because next time, I can do it to you.” And though Smoke frantically tries to come up with an answer that would lead to him not having to suffer through one or two or several, depending on how sadistic Mute is feeling, he quickly realises that it’s a dead end: if he claims to enjoy it, there’s no good excuse for him to refuse and if he doesn’t like it, it’s even more of a reason for Mute to return the favour. He finally understands why Smoke wanted this so much, the prospect of making him squirm and beg is enticing – and if he has a similar reaction to Mute? Even better.

Smoke catches on when Mute simply laughs at his despair and rolls his eyes. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

“Hey, don’t worry”, Mute tells him sweetly and quotes him: “Maybe you’ll even end up liking it, babe.”

#rainbow six siege #smoke #mute #smoke/mute #fanfic #request #echo chamber #smoke will think twice before suggesting things in the future #I am sin

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yg-got7scenarios · 6 years

Text

Infinity Part 18 (M)

**GIF NOT MINE

Mini-Masterlist

Characters: Mark Tuan (GOT7), You (Reader/OC), GOT7 members, Mark’s parents, Marika (Your friend), and other surprise characters

Genre: Slow Build, Smut, Fluff, Angst (on previous and future chapters)

Warning/s: Tons of smut here omg what did I do, Overstimulation, and Mark being horny and sweet AF

Length: 5,695 words

Plot: You have always believed the line from your favorite book that some infinities are larger or smaller than other infinities. You always wonder if you even have an infinity that you get to spend with someone or you will be forever alone?

A/N: I am extremely sorry for the long wait, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

After two more rounds in the bathroom, Mark finally decided that it’s time for the two of you to actually get cleaned up. You can barely keep your eyes open as he lathers your back with the shower gel, your hands and forehead leaning against the tiled wall, your wet hair carefully tied into a bun. He scrubbed your ass and legs where majority of his cum went, since either of you are too impatient to get a new condom from the bedroom.

“Baby, turn around for me.”

“Fuck you.” You spluttered and Mark just giggled heartily, pushing you against his chest softly before proceeding in spreading the soap on your neck, your breasts, and your torso.

“I’m exhausted. And sore.” You said as he continues washing you, his palms gliding over the front your shaky thighs and legs.

“I know.”

“But it felt good. I’ve missed you.” Mark again laughs when you turn your head to kiss the slope of his jaw. Earlier you were just cursing at him and now you’re being cuddly, placing your hands on top of his that is now circled around your waist.

“I love you.” You kissed his cheek and he grabs the shower head from the rack and began rinsing the suds and bubbles from both of your bodies.

“I love you too, baby girl.” He presses a lingering kiss on your lips and you closed your eyes, letting Mark hold you and finish cleaning you up.

You two had stayed in the tub for a few more minutes just to relax your sore and slightly tensed muscles. You are cradled in his arms, your arms wrapped around him and your face at the crook of his neck while you are conveniently settled on his lap, the warm water that surrounds the two of you definitely helps in soothing your stiff and tired bodies.

“You okay baby?” Mark asks as he rubs soothing circles on your back, slowly lulling you to sleep. You hummed against his neck and you felt his pillow-like lips dropping a soft kiss on your temple.

Mark helped you out of the tub and the two of you dried and dressed yourselves up before climbing on the bed. You were out like a light the moment your tired body met the comfy sheets of Mark’s bed. Before you completely succumb to sleep, you felt his lips pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead after murmuring a soft “Good night”.

You were a little dazed when you were stirred from the sleep the morning after. You weren’t used to having someone next to you when you sleep, aside from Marika, though that is very rare, your best friend for about 10 years is still not used to a lot of skin ship and physical contact. Moreover, they are not just sleeping next to you, the other person’s legs are also tangled against your own that you are wondering which legs are yours and their arms are wrapped around your shoulders and waist, respectively, while both of your arms are around the other person’s middle. Your brain is still catching up on what’s happening really when something in your brain clicked, flashbacks of what happened last night dawned on you full force — which made your head throb just a little but a smile immediately registered on your face when your gaze met a now very familiar neck and upper chest.

Instead of pulling away just like how you pictured you would do when you woke up dazed, you scooted closer to him (if that is even possible considering that you are clinging on to each other like koalas) burying your face further on the crook of his neck, breathing in the man’s musky scent beneath the lavender smell from the shower gel you two had used last night when you showered together.

It was a fantastic feeling, everything that happened between last night and today; waking up in the arms of the man whom you had loved both consciously and unconsciously for the last ten years. You feel secured, loved, contented, and protected even just being in Mark’s arms on his king-sized bed. This mix of feelings is something you never thought you would crave for in life, or even imagine if you are honest. You never thought that it is possible, after all the challenges life had thrown at you over the years, as well as the sickness that has been with you for about a decade.

You pressed a light kiss on Mark’s neck — smiling when you feel him move a bit just to push your closer to his chest, his steady, calming breaths hitting the crown of your head and you bit your lip to stop yourself from giggling too much, you never felt this way before, even with Jinyoung, whom you thought was your first love. He was a good man and you had loved him then, but it was never like this, the passion and love you felt for Mark grew about a thousand times more after you had confessed to him, and you already know that you had loved him more than how you’ve loved Jinyoung before — so you guess that was the difference after all.

You slowly removed pulled your face away from Mark’s neck so that you can look up to him and you smiled dearly. Mark looks like a kid, adorable and oh-so cute with his brown fringe blocking his forehead and closed eyes, his pillow-like lips jutted out slightly, reminding you of how he looks ten years ago when he appeared on your dream a few weeks back, very youthful and handsome.

It appears that Mark is in a very deep sleep because he didn’t move an inch when you retracted your legs from his, as well as your arm that is underneath his body. You felt a little sad that he didn’t notice, but, at the same time, you were delighted because it means that your boyfriend can get a little more sleep, and you can explore his house and his kitchen to see if you can put something for breakfast.

You continued your slow, cat-like movements as you stepped out of Mark’s bed. When you’re finally off of it, you quickly looked at Mark and you sighed in relief when he didn’t move an inch. You stretched your arms above your head before walking towards the direction of his bathroom, wanting to brush your teeth and wash your face. Mark had given you a spare toothbrush last night and dressed you in some knickers too as well as his t-shirt. When you asked him why he has knickers with him (with a subtle raise of your eyebrow) he just giggled and showed you the tag of the underwear, telling you that it’s new and he just bought it randomly and out of nowhere when he was thinking of you. You were surprised that it was a perfect fit now that you had woken up and not in a post-coital bliss — smiling once again as you splash some water on your face to remove the suds, wiping your face with the towel before going out of the bathroom. You shake your head when you find that Mark still hasn’t moved from his previous position, and just walked your way out of the room and down the stairs to his kitchen.

You are surprised when you found out that there are actual edible contents inside Mark’s fridge. There are eggs, some processed and fresh meat and chicken, even kimchi and vegetables, as well as a variety of drinks from soju, beer, apple juice, sodas, and milk. His kitchen drawers have lots of canned goods and boxes of waffle and pancake mixes; which made you decide to cook pancakes along with eggs and bacon for breakfast.

It amazed you big time on how easy and natural this all feels — this is the second time you’ve been at Mark’s house but as you move around his kitchen, you felt like you’ve been here for a long time already, going by your instinct on where the pans and cooking utensils are as well as how light and homey it feels especially when you started mixing the ingredients for the pancakes while you thaw the frozen bacon on the sink.

Because of how focused you are with what you’re doing, you didn’t hear voices calling out for you and footsteps nearing the kitchen.

The very first thing that Mark noticed when he finally woke up that morning is that a certain warmth that he had felt the entire night is missing, along with the wonderful scent of something sweet and floral against his nose.

You’re not next to him on his bed.

Mark sat up abruptly, the sudden force making his sight blurry — but he didn’t pay much attention to it as he scrambled to get off of the bed, panic rising in his chest at the thought of you leaving — he cannot bear for you to leave him this time, not now that he had felt that as though his love towards you had reached something infinitive and non-stop or unchangeable, no, he cannot take it.

“______!” He calls for you as he grabs the first thing that he can get from his closet, luckily, it was a tank top as he storms out of his bedroom.

“Baby? Where are you?” He puts on his tank top before dragging his feet down the stairs in a lightning speed. However, he stood to a halt when he heard some clinking of plates and utensils as well as a soft voice humming to the tune of a popular dance song from one of the hottest boy groups in Korea (when he thought about it, it was actually Really, Really by WINNER), making him let out a huge sigh of relief. He had to steady his wobbly limbs by grabbing on the stair railing, his sudden reaction to your disappearance while he’s slightly light-headed from just waking up brought discomfort on his head, but he is sure that it will be gone in just a few seconds.

When Mark managed to get himself steady, he walks down the stairs languidly, now smelling the wonderful scent of brewing coffee — which made him assume that the love of his life is trying to put up a nice breakfast for him.

Mark smiled even wider when he finally reached the mouth of the kitchen. Your back is on him as you carefully add water to the huge bowl, stirring it with a small hand mixer which he recognized as something that he got for free when he purchased a whole cooking set years ago. He never thought that he had used it before, which made him even more amused on how you were able to set your hands on it.

Mark doesn’t want you to notice his presence since he wanted to just enjoy the sight of you being overly domestic in his kitchen, in his house, making his heart flutter even more thinking that you are actually there, with him, and even if it’s just less than a day that you two are together, he felt like he’s been dating you for months, and that you belong there, with him, at his house, together.

He leans against the wall on his right to get a better view of you as you continue to mix something in the bowl, which he now assumed to be pancake batter if the box next to you is not enough indication. In this angle, the counter is not a hindrance so he can see the entirety of you, clad in just his oversized shirt that just reach your mid-thighs, so he has a view of your luscious legs. Your hair is also tied in a bun and the neckline of the shirt had ridden on your right shoulder, exposing the smooth skin there as well as a little of your back and your nape which is not covered with your hair.

A chill run down Mark’s spine when you accidentally dropped the scissors you are holding, bending over to pick it up from the floor and Mark’s mouth watered at the sight of your behind — wanting nothing more than to run his hands over the soft flesh and to knead them until he’s more than satisfied. His lewd thoughts were interrupted when you stood up and resumed cutting the plastic wrapper of the bacon so that you can start frying them.

Mark tried to wither his mind from the obscene thoughts that are clouding his foggy brain — though he cannot deny that even though you two had made love multiple times last night, he still had managed to sport a semi-erection just seeing you dressed in his shirt and some panties he bought.

Maybe he is just hungry, though he is trying so hard to convince himself that it is for food, but his dick is saying otherwise.

“Ah!” You squealed in surprise when you felt two strong arms circling around your waist from behind — ready to slap the intruder on the face with a spatula but when you felt the person’s chin on your shoulder and the feeling of his soft, plump lips grazing your bare neck, you slapped one his arms that are wrapped around you using the wooden utensil instead.

“You scared me!” You pouted and Mark smiled against your neck, burying his nose deeper against you before breathing in your scent, which you assumed smelled like a mix of butter, eggs, and some processed meat.

“Good morning baby girl—“ Mark mumbles against your neck as you began to flip the first pancake you had cooked — making you smile when you saw the even light brown color on the top part.

“Good morning to you too, handsome — slept well?” You asked and you giggled when he nodded against your neck, his hold around your waist getting tighter, showing zero intentions of going away anytime soon.

“Alright — I hope you don’t mind me invading your kitchen, love. Breakfast will be ready soon, and I think the coffee is ready, will you help yourself in making some coffee, hmm?” You ran your unoccupied hand on top of his arms dearly as you remove the cooked pancake from the pan and transferring it to the empty porcelain next to the stove.

“I don’t want to move.” He said as he pulled his face away from your neck before burying his nose on your hair. “I want to stay here.” He mumbled against the crown of your head and you laughed as you pour another mixture on the pan. You also turned off the stove that cooks the bacons — setting them on the other plate with oil drainers.

“You’re such a baby—“ You giggled when Mark tickled your side a bit. “And don’t do that— I don’t want to ruin my perfect circle-shaped pancake.” You grabbed his hand that tickled you and he laughs against your hair. He does it again and you let out another sharp giggle.

“Mark!”

“What?” He answered innocently and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Don’t what what me, stop or pull away from me.” You said and Mark pouted against your nape.

“Sorry — I won’t move. But give me that perfect circle-shaped pancake.” He murmurs and you laughed; amused, before nodding.

“Okay baby. You’ll get it.”

After tons of convincing, you finally had Mark pull away from you to arrange the table and make some coffee while you cook the remaining batter in the bowl. When you put the pancakes, eggs, bacon, and sliced fruits on the table, you smiled when you saw Mark walking across the counter bringing two mugs of steaming coffee. The table has a small pitcher of water as well and it’s all set.

You two had eaten in silence; the night prior surely made the two of you really starving that no one dared to talk once you had the food inside your mouths. Mark even choked at one point by trying to eat half of the pancake portion (he grumbled that he’s too hungry so decided to eat it all at once) and you laughed at him while patting his back and refilling his glass with water.

When you’re done, Mark insisted to wash the plates and the pans, which you told him that you can take care of, but he said that you already cooked breakfast so he needs to do the rest. You sighed in defeat and just pouted, which he kissed away quickly, making you blush before you proceed in wiping the grubs on the table.

Once you’re done, you sat on the counter on the other side of the sink to watch your boyfriend being overly domestic —washing the plates and pans and you definitely didn’t notice how his tank top would showcase his arm muscles whenever he lathers the sponge over the kitchen items. You are not sure if Mark is doing it on purpose, but he is flexing his back a little too tight for someone who’s just washing plates; his back muscles ripping against the fabric of his thin tank top. He even lifted his arms and stretched them above his head before turning from side to side…

He is clearly doing it on purpose.

“What a show off.” You scoffed under your breath as you sway your legs from where they’re hanging off of the counter, and Mark barks a loud laugh, amazed by how you had caught on his act.

“What are you talking about?” He asks but he was still laughing; his shoulders shaking in an attempt to muffle his laughs and you just roll your eyes dramatically. Mark finally finished wiping the last plate as he sets it on the counter before making his way towards you. He immediately settled in between your legs, like he belongs there, before wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Thank you…” He presses a light kiss on your lips and you smiled against his lips.

“What for?”

“For coming back to me.” He presses his forehead against yours and you smiled as you bump your nose against his. “For trusting me and for forgiving me, for everything, really.” He chuckles before pulling away, looking at you deeply with his dark, brown eyes. “You surely had been even more beautiful than before, ______.” He says with sincerity that made your heart do flips and making your face two shades darker. Mark noticed your blush because of your proximity so he hugs you tighter against his body.

“So, so beautiful, and pretty, and lovely — very sexy too.” He pushes on and you snorted, ducking your face to your chest but Mark is quick to lift your already flaming face by your chin to meet his gaze.

“Don’t go shy on me now.” He kisses your lips and you just hugged him tighter, burying your face against his neck.

“I love you.” You mumbled against the pale skin in front of you and Mark giggles.

“I love you too, ______.”

“You look more handsome when you were a kid though.” You puffed and Mark made a noise of disagreement.

“Oh really?” He started and you are already slightly shaking from trying to control your laughter. “Is that the reason why you almost drooled when you saw me naked last night? And how my muscles look tight when I stretched them earlier? I saw you — ____, don’t even deny.” He blew a raspberry at you and you just shake your head, Mark is such an old child, but you find that you don’t mind. It is funny that you can switch from being two young adults being so in love with each other to two bickering old children in a second.

“Fine. I appreciated your body, but you were the one who drooled when you saw me naked…” You tilted your head to the side and Mark was lost at the sight of your neck covered in bruises that he caused, making you bite your lip in victory. Mark gained control of himself by shaking his head and looking elsewhere.

“Whatever.” He grumbles and you laughed before wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him against you for a sweet, longing kiss, which he returned in no time. His hands roamed over your bare thighs, snaking them inside your shirt to touch the warm, naked skin of your waist, making you moan against his mouth which he gladly swallowed, your fingers threading on his brown hair before gliding them down to his nape and shoulders.

Mark was first to pull away when you two are running short on oxygen — looking at you as if he’s going to bear holes on you, however, he decided to play a little, trying to hold off the animalistic desire bubbling at the bottom of his stomach. He removes his hands from your waist and you whined at the loss of contact, but he immediately wrapped them around you once again before leaning forward to press a kiss on your nose.

“Did you prepare any dessert for me, baby?” He smirks as he eyes your face and your exposed neck and cleavage, making his throat dry as he fights the urge to just bury his face there all at once. You shared the same smug smile Mark is wearing as you caught on the invisible hook, line, and sinker.

“It depends on how you like your dessert to be…” You smiled as you run your fingers through his brown locks; tugging at his follicles softly but enough to make Mark let out small groans, before massaging the back of his neck. “We have some cookies on the jar to your right…” You bite your lower lip and Mark desperately wants to do that instead. “There’s a cake in the refrigerator too?” You licked your lower lip before accidentally dropping the neckline of your shirt to the side, revealing your collarbone and shoulder as well as the upper part of your breast and if you noticed that Mark’s hold around your waist tightened and his breaths slightly quickened, you didn’t say anything.

“Or…” You leaned forward as you press your chest against Mark’s — causing a groan to bubble out of Mark’s throat at the feeling of your breasts clashing against his clothed chest, his eyes dilated and burning with restrained lust, but he didn’t say anything, waiting for your next move or words as he licks his suddenly dry lips. You kissed the side of his jaw before trailing more kisses at the side of his face until you reach his ear, whispering in the sultriest and breathless voice you can manage.

“Or you can have me.”

Mark wasn’t able to hold himself back any longer at that statement — immediately cupping your face with his hands and mashing his lips with yours, kissing you fervidly, his tongue finding its way inside your equally eager mouth. His hands went down to grope your ass through your shirt and knickers, making you squeal against his mouth as he sucks on your tongue before nibbling on your lips until they’re raw, red, and slightly swollen, your grip on his shoulders tight and your nails digging against his skin, adding more fuel to the already burning fire within Mark.

“Damnit baby—“ Mark kisses you again before lifting you off of the counter without pulling his lips away from yours, blindly navigating towards the direction of the living room. Luckily, you two had managed to get to the living room without bumping into any walls or decorations that might cause some physical damage, though he did make a stop at the hall way to messily make out with you even more, dropping his face your neck to your collarbone, before walking towards the living room once again, stopping when he felt the familiar leather material of the couch against his knees.

Mark pulls away from the hickey that he is making at the base of your collarbone before setting you down on the couch gently. Mark takes a moment to admire your flushed face, disheveled hair, as well as your ruined shirt. You put on a sexy smirk when you met Mark’s gaze and he growls with need when you slowly spread your legs, placing your feet flat on the carpet before sliding down the couch a little.

“Fuck—“ Mark quickly pounces on top of you, kissing you for whatever you’re worth, his hands snaking inside your shirt to cup your breasts firmly, his thumbs rubbing your nipples in steadfast, circular motions and all your whines and moans of pleasure are immediately being swallowed by the man above you.

“Fuck!” Mark pulls away from your lips to lift your shirt just enough to free your breasts. He licks his lips before flashing you a playful grin, ducking his head to enclose one of the hardened nubs inside his hot, wet mouth.

“Mark — fuck!” The brunette bites and sucks on your nipple hungrily while the other one is being massaged and fondled with equal intensity and you can feel your wetness soaking your knickers and you’re dying to have some friction against your center, so you arch your back and grinded against Mark’s crotch, making you wail when you felt his hard on against the inside of your thigh.

“You’re so hard, Mark.” You moaned when Mark switched sides, sucking on your other nub so, so hard making your eyes roll at the back of your head while his hips started to meet your not-so-subtle grinds, dry humping you while he continues to suck on your nipple like a hungry baby.

Mark pulls away from your swollen breasts and he smiles as breathes in your wrecked from beneath him as he grinds against your core once more, making you bite your lower lip and press your center closer to his. He detaches his hips from yours to lean on his knee at the edge of the couch, and he chuckles when you whimpered at the loss of contact. He kisses the middle of your chest before trailing more kisses downwards to your torso.

“Patience, baby girl.” He nibbles at the skin of your stomach before kissing lower and lower until he reaches the waistband of your knickers. He presses a wet kiss where your skin met the waistband and you shivered with want, your hand immediately flying to his hair. He licks his lips when he saw a patch of wetness against the center of your knickers and he rubs his thumb over it, making you sob when the pad of his finger brushed against your clothed clit.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby…” Mark groans as he continues to rub you through your knickers.

“Mark — please.” You are grinding against his thumb earnestly and Mark smirks but he pulls his finger away after leaving a few more fleeing touches. You are about to protest and question why he stopped but it was gone immediately when Mark takes your knickers off — sliding it down your legs before grabbing your arms to heave you in a sitting position.

“Turn around for me, baby girl.” He mumbles and you obliged quickly, turning around and kneeling on the couch, separating your legs as far as you can, and pressing your knees on the back of the couch. You mewled when your sensitive nipples hit the cold, smooth surface of the furniture, which only heightened when Mark suddenly grabs your ass, kneading the globes of muscle and he groans when he sees you squirm at the touch. His hands went down a little further until he reaches your inner thighs, pushing your folds further apart, which made him sigh and curse at the sight of your overly wet core right in front of him.

“You’re dripping so, so much¸ baby girl.” He gulps heavily upon seeing your pink twitch when his hot breaths grazes it, along with your juices that are dripping down your thighs. Without hesitation, he sticks his tongue out and lapped up the juices that run down your thighs up to where the actual source of the sweet liquid is.

“You’re so sweet…” He licks your hole languidly before delivering a soft suck on your lower lips. “So fucking sweet…”

“M-Mark…” You moaned aloud when Mark wraps both of his arms around your thighs before burying his face on your dripping folds, placing his mouth on top of your throbbing clit before delivering hard, fast, and wet suctions on the bundle of nerves — causing your hips to grind against his mouth at their own accord.

“S-shit!” Your hand flew behind you to settle on top of Mark’s head, craning your head back to meet the hungry and dark look on Mark’s eyes as he continues to suck on your clit. “Ri-right there… Holy shit.” Your head fell back when Mark circled your clit with his tongue, before running the soft muscle up and down your folds, nipping at your inner lips before dragging his tongue from your wet hole and back up to your clit again, his nose prodding your entrance and it is just too much to take all at once.

“M-Mark… Oh my God, Mark…” Mark smirks against your center before resuming on sucking your clit harshly, the wet sounds of his filthy mouth devouring your clit ringing against your ears and he was becoming even more aroused with the sounds of pleasure you’re letting out from the back of your throat.

“FUCK!” Mark bites on your sensitive clit before sucking on it again, this time, he didn’t hold back, he suck harder and harder, your thighs and legs shaking against his arms at the intensity of his suctions and slurps and you tried to press your legs together but Mark’s hold around thighs disables you from moving, he even tightened his hold to tell you wordlessly to just take it.

“I’m cumming, oh my God Mark please don’t st—“ A screamed ripped out of your throat when your orgasm suddenly hit you out of nowhere, your insides releasing waves and waves of hot, white pleasure as Mark continues to suck your pulsating clit, adding his tongue to the mix by rolling it against the bundle of nerves alternately, heightening your already top of the notch peak. You buried your face against the back of the couch as Mark continues the harsh movements of his tongue and lips.

“Goddamnit — MARK — let me ride this out, holy fuck!” Mark didn’t stop licking your clit as you try to wiggle your hips to avoid his mouth, as you let out uneven, loud breaths and moans, his continued assault on your sensitive clit making your whole body burn as if you’re caught in a huge wild fire. Your toes are curling against the sole of your feet and your nails are scratching the expensive leather of the couch, but you or Mark do not give a single shit as he continues eat you out while you’re still climaxing. The wet, slurping sounds of his mouth and tongue lapping up your center and your juices as well as your moans and cries of pleasure are the only sounds you can hear — and it seems to be the same with Mark because you can feel him humming against you while he continues to devour your dripping center.

“Pl—“ You bit your lip so hard and leaned your forehead against the leather material in front you when Mark inserted his tongue inside your hole, swirling and circling his tongue inside you before he started fucking you with it — moving the wet muscle in and out of your hole and he groans against you when you unconsciously moved your hips back to meet his thrusts.

“Holy shi—“ Two of Mark’s fingers were suddenly on top of your engorged clit, flicking and rubbing the bundle of nerves in hard, tight, and small circles — causing your knees and legs to buckle heavily, your hands gripping the leather couch so tight that your knuckles had turn white. It also didn’t help that Mark had buried his tongue and face deeper into you; his tongue hitting a hidden nerve inside you and in just a few more thrusts of his tongue into that spot, along with the non-stop movements of his fingers on your clit, you came once again, your orgasm eating your insides up; your whole body writhing and trembling densely, streaks of white, hot pleasure coursing through every nerve in your body.

“Fuck—“ Mark finally pulls his mouth away from your still pulsating lips, his arm wrapping around you since your wobbly legs proved to be unreliable at this state. He kisses both of your ass cheeks before pulling your shirt up and kissing your spine, helping your still quaking body relax by massaging your sides.

“That was so hot…” Mark kisses your exposed nape before chuckling against your neck. “That was the best dessert ever.” You can’t help but blush at his words and you let out a small laugh when Mark hugs you from behind as you try to catch your breath and come down from your high.

“Damn it.” You chuckled and Mark smirks against your neck.

“I know I’m good…” He kisses your temple and you laughed before playfully slapping his arm. Since Mark had made you feel so, so good, you thought that you need to return the favor. You turn around slowly before sitting on the couch comfortably while Mark is still standing in front of you. You flashed him a wicked smile — making Mark raise his eyebrows at you. All of a sudden, you pulled his arm so that he sits next to you before standing up and kneeling in front of him.

“Now…” You ran your fingers on top of Mark’s thighs before reaching the band of his sweatpants and boxers, hooking your fingers inside before slowly pulling them down his legs; freeing the rigid muscle from its restraints, making you lick your lips before looking up to your lover.

“It’s time for my dessert.”

More sexy times on the next chapter, I promise!

196 notes · View notes

anon-e-miss · 6 years

Text

Amalgus 7

Eventually, Jazz had to turn and looked at Prowl. He told himself he did not like the look of the mech. Sure, he was handsome enough, those doorwings were a nice bit of kibble, but did the Praxian even know how to smile? How to laugh? Did his face form any other expression than a frown? Jazz liked them loud, playful, creative.The strong and silent had never been his cube of engex. So he looked at Prowl, detached, unaffected by the purus’ untouched spark and frame. Completely unaffected, he watched the mech test the berth before laying his bitlet brother onto it, unfolding one of the blankets, and laying it over the recharging sparkling. It did not matter to him at all how carefully Prowl handled Bluestreak, Jazz wanted use of his processor, not his spark and frame.

“Those doors buggin’ ya again?” He asked, without thinking.

“They are only mildly stiff,” Prowl said. He lied.

“I can fix that,” Jazz offered. This was fine.Since he was not attracted to the mech, it was not weird to touch him in a therapeutic way, it did not affect him at all.

“I suppose that would be wise,” the Praxian said. It almost sounded stilted, and for some reason that amused Jazz, but not in a malicious way.

“Not sure ‘bout how it feels?” The amalgus asked, conversationally as he put his servo between Prowl’s shoulder plates.

“It is an unusual sensation,” Prowl replied, and he stood very still as Jazz activated the magnets in his palm. As before, the plating under his servo was hot, a sign of stress in the struts and joints beneath. He focused on those hots spots, and rolled his servo, massaging the plating. Prowl was absolutely silent throughout the massage. After a klik Jazz stepped back, and watched the Praxian’s doorwings droop.

“Seem like a lot o’ trouble, doorwings,” Jazz said.

“They provide a sixth sense,” the Enforcer explained, he moved them in slow circles. Mildly stiff, eh? “It is not precisely sight, or sound. It is almost like echolocation.”

“Can ya go ‘round wit yer optics closed in still get around?” The saboteur asked.

“Depending on the setting of the sensors, such a thing is possible,” Prowl said. “However the higher the level of sensory input, the more sensitive the plating and the joints to misadventure.”

“Are more Praxian’s like ya or like Blue?” Jazz asked. “Don’t think I seen his stop movin’.”

“Bluestreak is still young, and he is still being trained,” the Praxian replied. “I am more judicious than others in my movements. Beyond their sensory capacities we use them in a form of chirolinguistics. Bluestreak speaks without thinking. Some mature Praxians do as well, but Bluestreak will be trained until he develops a strong buffer.”

“Why?” The amalgus asked. “Why does he gotta be... quiet?”

“He is our originator’s heir,” Prowl explained. “There are more stringent expectations of dukes.”

“He’s heir... to a duchy,” Jazz said. “But, why not ya? Frag, why are ya an Enforcer.”

“I am inadequate,” the Enforcer replied, an his doorwings dipped, and his lipplates formed a tight line. He was upset, but doing a good job disguising it. “There are certain requirements that must be meant in accordance to the Functionalist laws. I do not meet them.”

“Ya look perfectly functional to me,” the saboteur said.

“I have a glitch,” Prowl confessed, his doorwings dropped a little lower. “As such I am barred from succession. I serve the Enforcers because I cannot imagine sitting about doing nothing.”

“Don’t seem right,” Jazz replied, with a grimace. “Don’t look like it stops ya.”

“Functionalism strives for perfection,” the Praxian said. “I cannot be perfect. I have known I would not be duke from my earliest memory. I do not begrudge it. I do not believe I would be satisfied in that function.”

“Don’t sound like my kinda life,” the amalgus agreed. “Ya like Enforcer work.”

“I do not enjoy the politics,” Prowl said. “I am better at yielding authority than obeying it. But I find metaforensics fascinating.”

“Y’re good at it, I hope,” Jazz replied. “Those younglings been missin’ for quartexes. The circus swerved up north to drop my brother ‘n his mate in our village. My brother in law was almost mobile when I left. My brother in and out o’ stasis.”

“It sounds like they were grievously injured,” the Enforcer said.

“They took’em apart,” the saboteur hissed, and he clenched his servos. “Ripped every piece o’ plating off Ric’s frame, took pieces o’ his protoform. Ya can‘t just replace an amalgus’ parts, we gotta regenerate. They still ain’t sure he can do it. He ain’t dead yet, ‘n that’s somethin’ but he’s got so much more healin’ to do. He just. He might not be able to do it.”

“Enforcers should have addressed the attack where it happened,” Prowl said. “Attempted murder, and torture are criminal in all corners of Cybertron.”

“No one much cares what mechanisms do to me and mine,” Jazz replied. “Urayan Enforcers weren’t to worried ‘bout circus folks, ‘n freaks gettin’ jumped. I was on my way there when I ran into ya. I was hopin’ to find somethin’ that might tell me were to find’em. Our ‘creators are already lookin’, they were in Kalis last I checked. The plan’s been for’em to look north, me south.”

“We are going north so that I can interview Artfire,” the Praxian guessed. “That is the correct move. You have no doubt asked your questions, but I need to ask my own, and see the damage myself.”

“That’s what I figured,” the amalgus confirmed. “Found out on deck the circus was headed to Iacon, figurin’ it’d be a safer kingdom to tour after what happened. We might be able to meet up with’em, I hope... maybe one o’ them remembers somethin’ important, somethin’ I didn’t know to ask.”

“You trust them?” Prowl asked.

“They’re good folk,” Jazz replied. “Bunch o’ them got hurt trying to help my family. Few o’em were killed.”

“Travelling circus or no, murder should always be investigated,” Prowl said, sounding audible annoyed. “There should have been an Enforcer response, given the scale of violence. That they were dismissive suggests there might have been some level of malevolent interference.”

“Think they coulda been in on it?” The saboteur asked, optics narrow behind his visor. It was something he had considered, but he had questioned if he had not just been prejudiced against them.

“Or bribed,” the Praxian replied. “It is only a theory. One of many. But it makes the most sense at the moment.”

“Good enough for now,” Jazz declared. “Ferry should be ‘bout two mega-cycles more, ‘n then we gotta heat up. It ain’t the easiest hike, ‘n it’s gonna take a few mega-cycles, lot o’ it off the beaten path. ‘M thinkin’ ya got some endurance.”

“It is vital to every Enforcer,” Prowl replied. “Bluestreak however...”

“I’ll carry’em,” the amalgus said, the purus tensed. “Easier for me than you. I don’t got doorwings. I already bought a harness.”

“I will defer to your expertise,” the Enforcer said, his doorwings dipped a little. “I dislike it, immensely.”

“I’d be disappointed if ya didn’t,” Jazz replied. “Got a few joors left before dark-cycle. Don’t suppose ya know Triad.”

“I do,” Prowl confirmed.

“Great, ‘cause I got a board,” the saboteur declared.

The Praxian did not just know Triad, he excelled at it. Jazz had not played the game against anything close to an even match in ages, and Prowl was more than his match. Tactically, Prowl was brilliant, and he did not stick to standard manoeuvres, and he did not fall for obvious ploys. No, just like the amalgus, he played the long game, and Jazz was actually thrilled. Triad was a fun game in general, but against such a challenging opponent, it was exactly the saboteur’s thing. He dug deep into his bag of tricks, and used every drop of his cunning, and still lost the first game, though not by much. As his final game piece was toppled, he grinned at his opponent. Prowl cocked his helm just slightly.

“I did not expect you to be a sore loser,” he said. “But I did not expect you to be pleased.”

“Haven’t had a challenge in a while,” Jazz replied. “Think y’re up for another game?”

“I am,” Prowl said. “I have not be so well challenged in some time myself.”

Jazz one the next game, switching strategies at the very last second, and winging it. When his final piece fell, the Praxian almost smiled. Over the course of several games, they traded victories, and slowly began to speak, more than just about the game, but in general. Prowl described Petrihex, the dukedom his originator ruled, and as well as the capital where he had moved to serve the Enforcers. He spoke about the Helix Gardens, and the singing crystals, and his work with the Enforcers. In turn, Jazz spoke about Polihex, and about his amalgii kin. As they played he shared stories of his favourite hunts, and near misses. During their forth game, Bluestreak woke up, and as he nibbled on some gels, he settled into Prowl’s lap and watched the game. The sparkling happily chatted about his home, his brother, his origin. In an act of sibling devotion versus tactical savvy, his elder brother allowed Bluestreak to make some plays on his behalf. Though Prowl should have lost horribly because of the little mech’s moves, Jazz could not help but let the pair win. Bluestreak whooped with pleasure, and Prowl actually smiled.

#amalgus #virgin sacrifice #unicorn trope #fanfiction #ficlet #tf prowl #tf jazz #tf bluestreak #bonding over board games

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ff15trashgoldenslumbers · 7 years

Note

Hello! I was wondering if you would do drabbles of Chocobros with an S/O that has lots of scars (people have various scar types, you can choose which to write . I personally have keloid scars unfortunately). SFW or NSFW is alright. I just havent read anything with scarred girls and it would mean alot to me for you to consider! Your writing is simple and lovely! Thanks for all the wonderful HCs! I look forward to Gladio's approach if you do write it :)

I’ve got a few surgery and careless scars myself. I personally never heard of a keloid scar and had to look it up, please let me know if I did or got anything wrong. (^ _ ^)

I hope to keep you interested, and worked a little hard on the Gladdy one just for you.

~~~~~~~~

Noctis

You never understood it, after making love Noctis would often lay cuddled against you, sometimes himself being the big spoon, other time him curled up on your chest. Yet every time no matter what, he would play with that scar down the center of your chest that you received as a kid.

You had an open chest surgery from a condition you had when you were a child, which left about a 5 inch scar down the center of your chest. You were extremely self conscious about it for years, worried that if you were to ever take a lover they would be horrified by it and turn you away.

The Prince wouldn’t so much as play with it, as he would rest his fingers against it, or be drawing lazy circles and find his hand traveling the path. You were certain he would be terrified of it, as many other people in the past would often panic and demand to know what happen when you changed or tried on swimsuits than begun to treat you differently, like some type of freak or glass.

Yet no, the first time he saw the scar, his large blue eyes looked up to you, before he leaned forward placing a kiss against the slightly paler skin, before gathering you in his arms and made rather pleasant and peaceful love.

Never once did Noctis complain if you left your shirt on during sex, or rose the collar of your shirt should you be out in public and your collar felt to be sliding low. He often wore his shirt as well, or would provide you with a button up or jacket so you could pull it around yourself.

“Does it turn you off?” You found yourself asking one day, lying within his embrace.

“Why should it? If you didn’t have it, you wouldn’t be here now.”

You thought for a moment, “I’ve never thought of it that way before.”

“See, silver lining.”

You giggled softly, pressing a kiss against his lips, “That’s rich coming from you, Mr. Lay face down on the bed, because I can’t.”

“Hey, I couldn’t.”

“You couldn’t what?”

“Yes.”

The scar didn’t bother you as much anymore, and it didn’t hurt your odds at getting intimate, after all the only person to see it was the man currently tracing it absent mindedly in his sleep and he seemed to love it.

~~~~~

Prompto

Your left shoulder was a reminder of your rather stupid youth, a huge burn mark that encompassed your entire shoulder, from the front to the back blade. When you decided to sneak out the city limits with some friends and paid for it by getting caught by a deamon. One of your friends was ambushed and you had instead of running away like the others, slammed a two by four into the creature’s head, stunning it enough to get them free but got caught in a crossfire, you were lucky someone heard you shrieking, or else it would be much worse.

The first time Prompto saw it, he had hugged you from behind and noticed the wound, before becoming frantic. He was worried that it was a more recent mark, and that it was hurting you. After explaining it was an older wound and the story behind it, the blonde smiled brightly.

“You’re so cool!”

You blinked, unprepared for the statement, confused eyes met the blue ones before you. You never thought yourself cool for getting this stupid mark. Now you would never be able to wear any type of shirt with your shoulder out, and it basically branded you, as a reckless idiot.

“I mean, sometimes when doing my Trigger Happy, I accidentally have casings fall on me and those burn, but you went against a deamon to protect a friend!” He blurted.

You shook your head, this little ray of sunshine found happiness everywhere, this old wound that you attempted time and time again to fix it, with painful surgeries and graphes and he made it all seem like all of that was a waste.

Often times than not the blonde would shy away from touching it when you both cuddled or became intimate. You thought at first that it was due to him being disgusted by it, until one day while snuggling on the couch your adorable boyfriend pressed a kiss against it.

“Prompto?”

Prompto froze behind you, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, “I’m sorry, did that hurt?”

You blinked confused for a moment, you constantly explained that it didn’t hurt anymore, but could make you stiff from time to time. “No I wasn’t prepared for it, no one really touches it.”

“Is it, is it okay if I do?” Prompto asked, “I mean I understand if you don’t want me to…”

You giggled leaning back, pressing a kiss to his chin. “You are so sweet!”

Now every chance he got, the blonde would sneak little kisses to you and your shoulder. It made you rather excited and even made your old wound feel better. The little caresses of the blonde throughout the day. You were certain that even a few times you witnessed actual sunshine and rainbows leave his fingertips and lips.

Prompto really did bring sunshine with him everywhere.

~~~~~

Gladiolus

You often shyed away at showing your legs, your arms were rather simple as arm guards and sleeves often protected you during training, yet on your left thigh was a huge scar running from just below your hip to stop about 6 inches further down.

Yet unlike the beautiful scars that framed your boyfriend, these appeared 3D in a sense, keloid scars were often something that you had to deal with all your life. Yet the small scars sustained from your childhood were often set straight with a bit of over the counter gel sheets or on a few occasions heading over to a doctor to get them frozen off. Like the one the had rose on your shoulder last year.

They were completely harmless, aside from the itch they provided from time to time, but you rather often thought them unattractive on your body. Mostly that annoyingly big large one about the size of the six inch knife that was stabbed into your leg during training years ago. It forced you into mom shorts and capris all summer, making it rather uncomfortable and did absolute wonders for your self esteem.

“Babe.” Gladiolus voice called.

You glanced down to the man between your bare legs, reading his book on the couch, seeming the most comfortable person in the world, “Yeah?”

Gladiolus turned toward the large raised scar on your thigh placing a kiss against it, “Nothing just want to make sure that you were still awake.” He replied with a cheeky grin.

You wanted to pout at the man, but only found a smile appear on your face at the memory of the first time Gladiolus had seen the scar. He knew of your small ones that lined your shoulders, but many people believed those just to be freckles or little spot of imperfections that everyone had on their body.

Yet the first time that you had undressed before the man, and he noticed the large dark mark on your skin, he was worried, thinking that it was an infected burn or wound. Only to notice that it was instead an old scar, with your permission, he placed soft fingers on the old wound. Feeling every ridge and bump underneath your skin, only to turn to you with those red brown eyes.

“You know, babe, it kind of looks like a moogle profile.” He stated that huge boyish smile on his face.

You honestly never saw what he saw, but he would lavish the scar with as much affection as he did with your unmarked leg. He had even stated that you two were scar buddies and that scars show just how badass a person is!

Tilting the man’s head back away from his book, you pressed a kiss to the scar running across his eye. Leave it to this man to make you feel so badass about something you felt so worried about earlier in life… maybe tomorrow you’d wear some shorts out.

~~~~~

Ignis

You stared at the mirror before you in the bathroom of Ignis’s, well your new shared, apartment, you were frighten, you didn’t think that Ignis was shallow, yet you still didn’t know his reaction. Years of schooling, and you were the student with severe acne. So much so that by the end of your freshmen you had learned to highlight, lowlight, and contour better than most billion dollar movies. It stopped overtime and your face became clear, aside from the random breakout.

Yet still at night when all of your make up came off, you were left with memories, holes and craters on your face from the acne.

You knew that moving in with Ignis he would see your naked face eventually, as when you both lived separately you could hide it with lies of,

“Sorry sweety, I have to wear a facemask for bed.” or even waiting for the man to fall asleep so you could scrub your face. Or what you hated to do, but you were guilty of doing it so many times, going to sleep with your makeup on in a natural setting and then setting it with a setting powder so you didn’t stain his sheets. Than going home for a very heavy detox mask, and scrub, which would sometimes lead to break outs.

You saw that Ignis had his own scars from acne, yet the man wore it beautifully. He didn’t even seem to notice them. If anything it was something that proved to you that he was human, as the man was so perfect. If only you had the self confidence to hold yourself that way before the man bare face.

Placing down your remover, you stepped from the bathroom, to join Ignis on a late night snack on the couch, watching some documentary.

“I was starting to worry.” Ignis chuckled, as you sat down beside him, too nervous to look at him directly. “My Dear is something wrong?”

You shook your head, calming yourself before turning to the man, the first time that he would see your naked face, only to see caring green eyes looking back toward you, “Nothing, Iggy.”

Ignis chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “If you believe so. I just noticed something.”

“What’s that?”

“You are absolutely beautiful all of the time.”

“Iggy.” You cooed.

#ffxv headcanons #ff15 headcanons #ffxv text post #final fantasy 15 headcanons #final fantasy xv head #final fantasy 15 text post #noctis lucis caelum #noctis x reader #prompto argentum #prompto x reader #gladiolus amicitia #gladiolus x reader #ignis scientia #ignis x reader #all scars are bad ass #besides my ironburn on my leg #that was from me being a dumbass

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ephemeralem0tions · 7 years

Text

4100 Chapter 5 - It Takes Two

I seriously need to boost this story, I have noticed its having a hard time gaining reads unlike my past fics. Please drop by and read it if you can <3

P.S. Abby is Hanji

Theme: future AU

Rating: PG

Warning: Curse words, future nsfw, violence

AO3 version overe here x

Send a request here >>> ASK

He adjusted the cuffs of his long sleeve polo with ease, then topped everything with a blazer which completed the formal look. He sure looked like a noble himself, if only he dressed like this every single day. But of course, he would not. The clothes may look good, but they are far less comfortable than people think. The tight slack restrain him from moving too much, collar somewhat chocking him and rubbing around his neck, the double layers making him feel the heat which will make him sweat a lot if there was no proper air conditioning. Still, he felt that the get up was incomplete.

He pulled out one of his white cloths that he usually used as bandanas from his closet. Artfully tying it around his neck till it became a cravat.

“Not bad” he whispered, admittedly admiring himself in front of the mirror. He also had his hair slicked back with hair gel, his freshly groomed undercut showing below the tamed hair above.

“I hate this dress” Abby groaned, entering his room and tugging the neckpiece of her halter type gown. She looked human, and started to act like a human as soon as he got up. This is the first time he’s actually seen her looking genuinely irritated and not smiling. What a good actress, she really did her research last night.

She continued to pull the sparkling fabric away from her neck and he sighed. Erwin may have went over board with their undercover outfits. The goal was to look less noticeable, but her stunning sparkly gown may even draw the attention closer to them. Abby’s back was also exposed to the public. Although her figure lacked some chest, she was tall, thin and well built for a woman’s body. She would surely be a topic for young bastards in the gala. Only they don’t know she actually isn’t human after all. Especially if she keeps a great act.

“Stop pulling at it, you might rip it. For all we know Erwin might have splurged his tight ass budget for this” he hissed, pulling her hands away from herself.

“But its really itching, I hate it” she frowned. Fucking great pretentious girl indeed.

He eyed at her nape which was already turning red fro all the scratching. Wow, she can even make herself physically human now and have rash.

“Its because of your hair, its hitting the area and causes more irritation” he pointed out.

“So what am I supposed to do? Cut it?” she rolled her eyes. Was that a terrible display or sarcasm? Or a bratty attitude.

He grabbed her hair and inched her face closer to his, slightly bending forward so their heights would match. Geez, her hair feels so greasy, is it the product of being a bionic? He made a mental note to tell her to take a bath. Or can she even take a bath?

“You tie it four eyes” this time, he was the one who rolled his eyes at her. “I thought you were supposed to be the smartest in your kind?” he smirked once seeing her rare, irritated look.

“I am! I’m just still having a hard time coping up with this human thing” she sighed.

His mind suddenly drifted off to the time when he’d fix Isabel’s hair into pigtails, or braids in some occasions. He wondered if he can still work the magic and do it on Abby.

“Where are you going?” she asked him, once he passed her and went straight towards a drawer beside his bed.

“Tying your hair” he nonchalantly replied, pulling out a spare black cord he remembered he had.

He gestured for her to sit on the edge of the bed, and he carefully, and artfully tamed her hair the best he could. He twisted it upwards with both hands as he stuck the cord between his teeth. He then layered her hair on top of her head into a neat bun before securing it with a cord. Then, he pulled small wisps of hair back to her face so it looks quite like an unintended but beautiful mess.

“This is actually really nice” she complimented his work, after looking at herself in the mirror. But his brows furrowed upon realizing that she would make the perfect show stopper with her current look. He should have messed up more to the point that she would look like a Poodle and no one would dare look at her. Or would that bring more disapproving looks on her?

“They’re here” she turned around and made her way towards the door with him in a tow. This is it, their second task begins.

“The deal is to look less distracting, you two look like you’re the fucking celebrant” Mike laughed, only to earn a harsh glare from Levi.

Compared to what him and Abby were wearing, Mike and Oriana’s suits were really far from what Erwin sent to him. Mike’s suit was almost similar to him, only that the fabric used was less shiny, cheaper in fact. The tall man also had a bowtie instead of a cravat, and he also made no effort with his looks. Mustache untamed as well as his hair. Heck, Mike’s bangs already covered his eyes. Oriana wore a rather plain satin dress, which had thin straps above her shoulders, and a straight cut right to her soles.

Certainly, Erwin had something up his sleeved, if he maid the pairs look different.

“You look beautiful” Abby greeted Oriana with a subtle smile.

“Thank you” Oriana replied, still stiff and evidently less human-like. Either Abby really did a great job, or it had something to do with their ranks.

“Considered we picked you up right at the HQ, it would only take us half an hour to reach Utgard. Did Erwin give special orders awhile ago?” he went back to his serious demeanor, and so did everyone inside the vehicle. This time, no more jokes, it was time to work.

“No, not at all” Mike responded. “But he did give the both of us these ear pieces so he can instruct things from the outside. He said he’ll be with the brigade to back us up at the perimeters of the palace” he was handed a small metal ball he inserted inside his ear. “Abby and Oriana can use the mind link to talk with everyone else” the two girls nodded.

“How about weapons? Did he give out guns?”

“Nope. He believes that we can pull this off with the help of our bionics. They are our lucky charm for this” Mike gave a glance to his partner, who just ignored him.

Damn yeah he has a clumsy bionic by his side. Whom he expected to be all great again on the mission. If there was a time to release all her talents, it was now.

“Sannes is by the bar, getting a drink” a static echoed right at his left ear after Mike spoke. Sure enough, he can see the target a good distance away from him and Abby.

It had been torture to him for the last two hours, trying not to shoot a death glare to everyone who came in their way. Glances were also directed to them, probably people thinking how wealthy he and his date are, but that is very far from reality. They were here for an undercover mission, possibly to kill someone if it was the worst case scenario.

“Target is on the move out” This time, Oriana was the one to speak. She had been standing on her post, casually chatting with a group of young men on a corner, while him and Abby stayed on the balcony. He figured it was the best spot, so he and Abby could be able to spy without any people watching their movements. She stood a good few meters away from him, a champagne glass in hand. If he didn’t know that she was a robot, he would have thought she was a princess.

“It is quite flattering Levi, but please, I am a bionic not a robot” damn, he forgot about the mind link. “Target moving towards the dance floor” She set her glass down on a tray of a server that passed by. His sight then followed Sannes, who indeed looked like he was about to socialize before he commits his crime.

“Levi” a sudden static made him wince and lean sidewards. Erwin’s voice came from the ear piece, booming and loud.

“Will you please be gentle?” he groaned.

“The dance is a waltz. Go to the middle with Abby” his eyes widened at the command.

“I thought we were supposed to go undercover? Not be the circus act?” he hissed. He wasn’t even sure if Abby can dance.

“Downloading basic step sequence” he internally cursed. “You know I can hear you right?”

He gave her a single glance, and in a split second the two were already making a grand re-entrance from the flower clad staircase, to the dance floor. God knows he never learned how to skate, nor dance. It was going to be a disaster, specially when he did not know how to lead.

“I’ll lead then” his eyebrows furrowed at her suggestion. “Just make it look like I’m the follow when I’m actually leading” This is going to be a disaster. “It won’t” her reassuring voice snapped him out of his negativity. “It takes two to tango. As long as you are showing effort, the two of us can pull it through”

He took one of her hands in his, his other arm supporting her back, while she grabbed his shoulder. She felt really warm, from the touch of her bare skin down her back. The heat seemed to envelope him as well, due to the piling circumstances. There was the pressure to dance, the lack of knowledge on why they are doing this, the number of eyes looking at them and only them. He knew he could not mess up and just get away with it. When Erwin has a plan, it always works, and he sure would not like to fail his second task. There will be a grave consequence if he slipped up on this one.

“I bust the windows out your car”

His eyes widened at the sudden change of phase by the music. This was no waltz! Damn Erwin tricked him!

“And no it didn’t mend my broken heart” Abby was quick to adjust, stepping sideways then right into a box step, the foundation of a tango. He silently prayed that his feet and body would let him sway with the flow. If he can shoot, fight, be acrobatically good, then perhaps he can also do an impromptu dance.

“I'll probably always have these ugly scars But right now I don't care about that part I bust the windows out your car”

She suddenly leaned backwards, and he caught her out of reflex, a few claps erupting from the crowd. She then lifted herself up, and stared at him right in the eyes. Her hazel irises were also warm, like her body. On contrast to his cold grey eyes and cold demeanor.

“Trust in me” it was as if she whispered inside his thoughts.

“After I saw you laying next to her I didn't wanna but I took my turn I'm glad I did it cause you had to learn”

Her hips started to sway into the rhythm, his breath hitched. ‘She’s just a robot, not a human’ he reminded himself.

“Again, I’m a bionic” She gave him a sinister smile and swayed even furiously against him. So she also knew the concept of teasing now. As she said, it takes two to tango, and it can also take two to play this game.

“I must admit it helped a little bit To think of how you'd feel when you saw it”

He took a few steps away from her and let himself loose in the music. He watched her every move against the light, remaining focused on his partner as he put on the face everyone loved. A playful looking Levi who smirked and glowed under the spotlight.

“I didn't know that I had that much strength But I'm glad you'll see what happens when You see you can't just play with people's feelings Tell them you love them and don't mean it You'll probably say that it was juvenile But I think that I deserve to smile”

They met again, their faces dangerously close to each other, while he caressed one of her cheeks in a seducing manner at the back of his palm, before pushing her away with a twirl and pulling her back into his arms.

“I bust the windows out your car You know I did it cause I left my mark”

He let her leaned backwards, slowly, and followed her till they were only inches away from the floor.

“Wrote my initials with a crow bar And then I drove off into the dark I bust the windows out your car You should feel lucky that that's all I did”

He pulled her back up, but never letting her free leg go. He brought it up to his waist level as her breath fanned out on his face. Their sweat started glistening like small beads through the light.

“After five whole years of this bullshit Gave you all of me and you played with it”

They stood there, in a daze, lips a few centimeters away from meeting entirely. She was really keeping up a good act. From his view, it looked like she was sincerely attracted to him as well for the moment.

He slowly closed his eyes as the crowd cheered for them. He pulled it off, thanks to his amazing partner, although he still would not admit.

“You don’t need to say it to my face” He saw her laughing as he opened his eyes. His breathing had barely turned to normal after fatigue and she was already laughing at him. Right, she isn’t human, he needed to get a grip.

“Hey short lover boy!” Mike’s voice echoed from his ear.

“What?” he asked with a groan.

“Target is already escaping towards the west wing. Oriana and I are on his trail, but we might need you on the opposite side” his eyes widened as he dragged Abby out of the dance floor.

“Shit” he cursed. “We are on our way”

He was already panting, trying to catch his breath whilst running, While Abby effortlessly jogged beside him with her usual smile. Either she is back to her old self, or adrenaline was rushing into her. But who knows? She is only a top class bionic with good acting skills and exemplary wits.

“Target has already reached the second floor” Abby had alerted him via the mind link. She was already effortlessly jumping from one step to another up the stairs, while he held unto the railings and silently cursed. Sure he was trained for cardio, but the dance had already slightly tired him. The running and jogging had taken its toll on him too. Days of no sleep, and no decent food due to his stress had surely caught up with him.

“Hey short stack, where are you? He’s already went out the terrace” Mike whispered from the other side of the intercom.

“This way Levi!” Abby peeked behind her to get a view of him as she turned towards the left.

“Already on the hallway you hairy beast” he responded, still trying to regain his normal breathing.

“Well hurry up!” he heard, before the line went dead.

They had no guns or knives to fight with, only two robots, or rather, bionics by their sides, and hand to hand combat skills. He aced the subject, and so did Mike, but the exact situation was never presented to them. They never knew how to apprehend Sannes the right way. There was a code, but he hoped the man did not carry a remote or any kind of bribing device with him or else the situation would be damned.

In all honesty, all he wanted for now is some rest and a cup of high grade tea. Everything in his life was already starting to set into place, his home and a stable but dangerous job. All he had to worry about now is Abby, and his budgeting.

“You fucktard! What are you doing?!” he winced as Mike’s booming voice rung in his ears.

“Levi!” Abby soon after followed. He started to wonder why they were talking like he did something wrong.

Then it dawned on him, he spaced out while walking. Abby, Mike and Oriana were no where to be seen, and Sannes was standing in front of him with a confused look. The now dark, and star clad sky behind the target.

“Can I, help you?” Sannes asked, a bit of hesitation evident with his tone.

He was shit with words, since then, he was never good with talking. He knew he would fuck up the first sentence that comes right out of his mouth, and he had no time nor patience to think about it logically. He gave away his most disinterested look and spoke.

“The code” he can already hear Mike’s face palm from his ear piece.

“The what?” his opponent tried to be innocent, and his brows furrowed in annoyance.

“You heard me” he growled. “The code”

“I have no idea what you are talking about” Sannes laughed, but he knew with the man’s tone that he was lying.

“Don’t shit with me. We know your plans for Trost and you are damned” the man smirked with his words. The intel was correct, the culprit had a plan in mind. Even if Sannes did not fire the missiles, he was already framed for stealing the code from the Factory city.

“So I suppose if I have the code, I’d just need to turn it over?” the man shrugged.

“Yes” he replied, although he already expected that there would be a catch. No villain was to succumb without a fight, not even in a fairy tale.

Soon enough, a metal controller was brought out of Sannes’ back pocket, a huge red button laying between the metal pad and the man’s thumb, just a few centimeters away from getting pressed. He knew it, the code would already be transmitted into one accessible object.

“I was going to fire this along with the fire crackers so that all Reeve’s attention would be on his beloved town as it crumbles. But you stealing the show had backfired my plan. At this very moment, the scientists are already probably trying to change the code so I don’t have any time to spare. I’d just have to let him witness a destroyed city the next morning after he comes ‘home’” his teeth gritted at the statement, if he took another step, Sannes would surely press the button without hesitation.

“Levi, distract him for a moment will you, I’m going in” He heard Abby from inside his mind.

“What?!” He reacted in disbelief. “What are you going to do?!” One single mistake, and the fate of the citizens of trost will vanish from their hands. He did not need a clumsy bionic right now, there must be another way.

“Just trust me! It takes two remember?” he sighed, he had to trust her, just like how they did on the dance floor.

“Any last words?” A sinister smile sat on Sannes’ chapped lips, making him cringe. Sure the villain role fitted the man, but his over try to become intimidating when he wasn’t — At least for him — was awful.

Abby emerged from his peripheral vision, sneaking behind Sannes. He silently prayed that she succeed in her plans, as he tried to take his gaze away from her.

“Yes” he replied, just to buy time.

“So what is it?” this, would probably be the dumbest antagonist we would know.

“Damn you little shit” Anger flamed from Sannes’ eyes. Surely, the once noble man could not take any insults.

“Why you-“ he was about to press the button, but Abby slapped it away just on time. She locked her hands on her wrists although she was failing miserably to hold the man due to him harsh movements.

He let his reflexes take over as he grabbed the remote from the ground, immediately putting it inside his pocket for safe keeping. Mike and Oriana had also emerged from one of the pillars behind him, stepping into the action.

“Fuck!” Abby yelped, one that greatly surprised him. She still held unto Sannes for a few good seconds before the taller man thrashed her to the side, whimpering. Although it is essential in work to finish the job first before thinking of yourself and your friends, he found himself rushing to his partner’s side while Mike and Oriana took care of Sannes.

Fury flashed in his eyes as Sannes dropped a steak knife down to the ground after getting pinned down by Mike. A gush of dark fluid rushed out of Abby’s left side, her eyes closed as if she was in pain. Maybe bionics can also feel pain once it reaches a certain intensity.

“Are you okay?” he crouch down beside her, pressing on her side and feeling the warmth.

For one moment, he was sure that he saw red after staring at his ‘blood’ tainted hands, but it suddenly turned blue, as if it was oil or gas. Her cut seemed like it was flesh as well, his confusion, curiosity and shock mixing all together with the mystery.

“Abby-“ he was about to ask her if she can heal, but she had already passed out in his arms, only a rip on her dress leaving the area where she was stabbed. Her skin, already a clean and fixed slate. All the regeneration must have taken its toll on her just as he was tired. They both needed a rest, and good food.

“Levi, lets go” Mike motioned for him to carry Abby, and so he did, despite the girl being ten centimeters taller than him. And for a moment, he wasn’t sure if it was shock, or dismay he saw in Oriana’s eyes, although he did not know why.

#4100 #rant #levihan #fics #fanfics #snk #aot #ao3 #future au #boost

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whistlewhileyoucook-blog · 7 years

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Once upon a time, in a faraway land, A young Prince lived in a shining castle. Although he had everything his heart desired, The Prince was spoiled, selfish, and unkind. But then, one winter's night, An old beggar woman came to the castle And offered him a single rose In return for shelter from the bitter cold. Repulsed by her haggard appearance, The Prince sneered at the gift, And turned the old woman away. But she warned him not to be deceived by appearances, For Beauty is found within. And when he dismissed her again, The old woman's ugliness melted away To reveal a beautiful Enchantress. The Prince tried to apologize, but it was too late, For she had seen that there was no love in his heart. And as punishment, She transformed him into a hideous beast, And placed a powerful spell on the castle, And all who lived there. Ashamed of his monstrous form, The beast concealed himself inside his castle, With a magic mirror as his only window to the outside world. The Rose she had offered, Was truly an enchanted rose, Which would bloom for many years. If he could learn to love another, And earn her love in return By the time the last petal fell, Then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast For all time. As the years passed, He fell into despair, and lost all hope, For who could ever learn to love... A Beast?

I’d say “Beauty and the Beast is one of my favorite Disney movies of all time,” but let’s be honest here, I’m probably going to say that about all Disney movies so we can go ahead and just get that out of the way. Beauty and the Beast really resonates with me: Belle is an outcast in her village, I felt that way throughout school growing up. She escapes reality frequently by reading, I do the same. From Dracula’s Castle in Transylvania to the Nitta okiya from Memoirs of a Geisha, I have traveled to far off places just by the pages of a book. Belle seeks for a more adventurous life than the small town she’s stuck in, and while I may not live in small town, I do often feel stuck and wanting more. I am so excited to see the movie I’ve grown up watching be translated in a live-action re-imagining, and to celebrate the film I’ve decided to dedicate my first few recipes to this tale as old as time.

Macarons. Very French, very complicated. In actuality, these delicate almond meringue cookies are not as hard as most people make them out to be. Yes things need to be precise, and yes it’s a bit time consuming, but that doesn’t equate to a difficult recipe and I’m hoping this will help.

Enchanted Rose Macarons

100 grams egg whites

45 grams granulated sugar

6 grams dried roses (make sure they are food safe please)

100 grams almond flour

200 grams confectioner’s sugar

2-3 drops pink gel food coloring

Start by grinding granulated sugar and dried roses in either a food processor or blender until fine. In the bowl of a stand mixer add the egg whites and rose sugar and mix until sugar is well absorbed into the egg whites (Normally I would have a picture here but in my excitement I forgot to take photos as I went along...oops!) Starting with the mixer on a speed setting of 4 whip the eggs and sugar for 2 minutes. After 2 minutes, increase speed to 6 and whip another 2 minutes. Can you guess what’s next? Increase the speed to 8 and whip another 2 minutes!! Well, actually, whip for 90 seconds, then add the food coloring, and finish out the last 30 seconds. The meringue should be at the stiff peak stage, if not keep whipping until it is. The stiff peak stage is when you take the whisk out of the bowl and the meringue forms a stiff peak at the end, funny how that works out, huh? You could also test the stability of your meringue by turning the bowl upside down, over an unknowing friend’s head is always more fun, and the meringue will stay in the bowl instead of plopping onto your victim’s head. Once you have your meringue at the right stage, sift the almond flour and powdered sugar over the top and start folding: 37-40 times to be exact. The mixture should start getting a little runny and not be a stiff meringue anymore. The best way to test if you’re ready to start piping, that is if you aren’t sure and need to check, is to take a spoon of the macaron mixture and drop it onto a plate. If the batter smooths over and settles, but doesn’t spread, it’s ready. Fill a piping bag and start piping! I have a wonderful silicon macaron sheet that has nifty little circles that I pipe into and it makes life a lot easier....well at least when it comes to making delicate french cookies. I highly recommend getting one, their inexpensive and last a lifetime. If you don’t have one then just get some parchment paper and a small cookie cutter and draw circles on the backside of the paper. Flip over and pipe! Tap the tray against a counter to release any hidden air bubbles and let sit and dry. I usually like to let them sit no less than an hour just to ensure that they’re going to be perfect when they come out of the oven. Speaking of, you should probably preheat that to 350F while you wait. The macarons are ready to bake when you lightly touch the top and it’s nice and dry. They should also have a nice shine to them. Bake for 11 minutes, and when they come out allow them to rest for 5 minutes before carefully lifting off the baking sheet.

Swiss Meringue Buttercream with Candied Roses

2 egg whites

120 grams granulated sugar

250 grams unsalted butter, softened.

1 tsp vanilla extract

2 tbsp finely chopped candied roses

So there’s my rose macaron shell, but I really wanted to drive home the rose flavor, so I made a swiss meringue buttercream with chopped candied rose petals. Swiss Meringue buttercream, to me, is the best buttercream. It’s sweet without being too sweet, it has a nice structure when piping, and the texture is marshmallow-y and perfect. Some may find it a bit daunting and, once again, it takes time to make, but the end result is oh so worth it. In the bowl of a stand mixer over a pot of simmering water combine the egg whites and sugar and whisk until well combined. Side note: Don’t let the bottom of the bowl touch the water, it should be suspended over it allowing the steam so heat the bowl gently. With the aid of a candy thermometer, cook until it reaches 140F. Bring the bowl over to the stand mixer and start whipping. Whip until the bottom of the bowl is cool to the touch and it looks like you have a bowl of whipping melted marshmallow. It takes a couple of minutes so have patience! If you add the butter before the bowl and meringue in turn are cooled down enough you’ll melt the butter, the mixture will turn into a soupy mess and things will not taste good, so be like Belle and read while you wait! Once the meringue is cooled properly, start adding softened butter gradually by the spoonful, allowing the previous spoonful to be fully incorporated before adding the next. Once all the butter is added add the vanilla, roses, and if you’re so inclined a drop or two of pink food dye.

When the shells and buttercream are both ready, pipe a layer of buttercream onto half of the macaron shells and sandwich with the other half. Yes I know that probably goes without saying but hey, I’m trying to be thorough here. Now if you’re impatient like me, start digging in. Hey, you made them after all, you deserve it! Or store in an airtight container and store in the fridge overnight. When you do this, the flavor gets a bit more intense and the shells soften just slightly to be perfect, or I may be crazy and none of that happens except in my own head. In any case, I’m definitely making another batch of these for the premiere of Beauty and the Beast and sneaking them into the theater to enjoy!

A couple of things to note when making macarons: 1. Use a clean, grease-free bowl (wipe it down with a paper towel with a little lemon juice or vinegar if you’re unsure.) 2. It is possible to over whip the meringue. Stop just at the stiff peak stage. 3. I find the best way to pipe the macarons is by keeping the piping bag straight up and down and piping directly downward.

#macarons #beauty and the beast #enchanted rose #foodie #food #foodblogger

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yukinokoe · 7 years

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Flowers in the Ballroom (Part 2; Gladnis)

READ PART 1 HERE

Read on AO3 Summary: Ignis and Gladio are swept up in the preparations for the Lucian Ball. Even though their busy schedules pull them apart, Ignis and Gladio are determined to make the best of a challenging situation.

Sequel to Flowers on the Windowsill.

The day before the Lucian Ball was one of the busiest days of Ignis’s life. The butler had been working overtime the entire week, and his eyes were puffy and tired. His legs were practically sore from the constant running, checking everything from the grounds to the kitchen to the grand ballroom. The house was bustling with people ensuring every inch of the manor was immaculate: decorated for the ball and the arrival of the Nox Fleuret family.

Yet, despite his exhaustion, Ignis continued to pull through, even if just for that random glimpse of Gladio. Every so often, Ignis would catch sight of the gardener in the ballroom, discussing arrangements with the lead decorator. When they caught eyes, they shared a small, knowing smile or a quick wink, and Ignis knew that all his efforts would be worth his trouble to finally be back to regularly seeing Gladio.

At six o’clock sharp, the car arrived with the Nox Fluerets and their retainers. Ignis stood beside Noctis, who looked somewhat stiff, but still regal as though he was accepting his duty as heir to the crown. Ignis patted Noctis’s shoulder, and he jumped slightly at the touch but gave his butler a small, thankful smile.

A guard stepped from the car, and opened the backseat door. Lady Lunafreya emerged, radiant as ever, in a simple white shift dress. The Lucian attendants bowed, and Noctis stepped forward, kissing her hand. “It’s good to see you, Luna.”

Lady Lunafreya smiled and wrapped Noctis into a tight hug, which he reciprocated. “It’s always good to see you as well, Noctis. It has been far too long since I have spoken to you. Our letter correspondence has been lovely, but it is never the same as seeing your face.”

Noctis smiled, “I know the feeling, Luna.”

Lady Lunafreya turned towards Ignis, clasping his hands in her own delicate touch. “It’s lovely to see you as well, Ignis. You changed your hair since I last saw you. It suits you well. I hope Noctis isn’t giving you trouble.”

“Thank you, my lady,” he responded warmly. Her personality was sweet and kind. It was as though she emanated a soft moonlight reminiscent of her namesake. “I assure you, Noctis has given me all sorts of trouble.”

Lady Lunafreya smiled. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“You must be exhausted from your journey, my lady,” Ignis said in his polished tone. “Please, allow me to gather your belongings. Noctis will show you to your room, right, Noct?”

“Huh?” Noctis grunted, not completely paying attention. “Oh, right. Follow me, Luna.”

He offered his arm and Lady Lunafreya held the crook of his elbow. They were quite a lovely picture: two attractive young adults who projected royalty. When they had disappeared into the house, Ignis turned back towards the car and moved to the trunk to gather the luggage. He waited for the attendants to grab most of the baggage and take it towards the house before leaning in to grab the last piece of luggage. A large hand settled on his shoulder, and a soft, low voice whispered, “I got it, Iggy. You should relax for a bit.”

Gladio leaned forward and easily lifted a large traveler’s chest from the trunk. He looked up at Ignis with his honeyed eyes and smiled. “After this, I’m going to be busy preparing the sylleblossoms for the ball tomorrow, but I’m looking forward to spending the whole night with you. Being able to spend the ball with you? That’s what’s been keeping me going this whole time.”

A weight fell in the pit of Ignis’s stomach. Gladio knew his position. He had thought Gladio knew the unspoken truth, the duty that came with being a butler. Ignis had been looking forward to the end of the ball. He hadn’t considered that Gladio had been looking forward to the actual event. “Gladio…” Ignis murmured, licking his dry lips. “I’m going to be working through the ball.”

Gladio stopped his movements. The corners of his lips fell and his shoulders slumped. It seemed as though realization was hitting him with all the subtlety of a freight train. “O-oh…” Gladio stammered, not looking up at Ignis. “Yeah… you’re a butler after all. I didn’t really think… I mean, makes sense.”

“Gladio… I…”

“Nah, don’t…. It’s fine,” Gladio muttered, “Tough break. Not even the prince’s personal butler gets the night off…” He hoisted the luggage up with a grunt, and moved towards the house, passing Ignis without looking at the butler. Even without eye contact, Ignis knew Gladio was disappointed. It wasn’t like he could have asked for the day off. Yet, Ignis still felt like this was somehow his fault; as though he had personally caused Gladio this pain of disappointment.

Gladio paused, his head hung. “I guess I’ll still see you there at least.”

“Of course,” Ignis responded, desperately hoping for anything to say to quell the gardener’s disappointment.

But as he watched the figure recede into the manor, no such words came to him to him.

The Lucian Ball was a night of opulence: a grand event that brought together leaders and influencers of the three continents. Thousands of attendees packed the manor, all dressed in black tie. Ignis balanced a tray of champagne glasses in his hand, maneuvering the crowd to offer glasses of champagne to esteemed guests. “Madame Secretary,” he greeted the Secretary Claustra, with a bow. “You are looking exceptionally lovely tonight. May I offer you some champagne?”

The First Secretary of Accordo smiled and took a glass with a firm, gloved hand. “I must say, the Lucius Caelum family spares no expense in their balls. The decorations are lovelier than those of the year before. I was shocked to see sylleblossoms in perfect condition here in Lucius. Did you have them flown in for the event?”

Ignis smiled. The décor for the ball was mostly white and black: the colors of Lucius and Tenebrae. Black ribbon and drapes were contrasted with white flowers and tablecloths. The only color was the light touch of blue of the sylleblossoms, carefully displayed throughout the manor. He felt a slight swell of pride in Gladio’s hard work. “We actually grew them here in a greenhouse. One of the gardeners is quite adept with flowers and devoted weeks to ensuring their successful growth.”

Secretary Claustra’s face showed her intrigue and surprise. “I’m impressed. Please, pass my compliments on to the gardener in charge. I was pleasantly shocked to see such a rare flower here and in such good condition.”

“Thank you, Madame Secretary. I will share your praise with him, but he is in attendance tonight. If I catch him, I will send him your way if you would prefer to let him know directly.”

“Thank you. I would appreciate that.”

Ignis bowed again before moving back into the fray of people. He weaved towards the refreshments table and set down his tray to check his watch. Half past eight. Noctis and Lady Lunafreya were set to be announced at nine o’clock. He had to ensure Noctis was prepared for his entrance. Ignis returned to the kitchen, which was bustling with manor staff, and set down his tray, nodding greetings to the other servants, busy with their own tasks. He then strode towards Noctis’s room in the residence wing, one of the only areas in the manor that wasn’t packed with guests. Ignis knocked on Noctis’s door and opened it, entering and closing the door behind him.

The prince sat on the edge of his bed, hands clasped. He was fully dressed in royal raiment: a sleek black pinstripe suit with silver buttons over a black shirt and polished black patent leather shoes. His black and white striped tie was knotted messily and a strand of hair was sticking up from its pushed back style. Ignis sighed and stepped forward, leaning down to take care of the tie. “Honestly, Noct. What would you do without me?”

Noctis let out a halfhearted laugh, tilting his neck upwards to give Ignis better access. “I would be a total mess, that’s for sure.” Ignis finished fixing Noctis’s tie and turned to grab the bottle of gel from the dressing table. “Ignis,” Noctis whispered, addressing his butler while he was turned away, “Do I… have to go through with this?”

Ignis turned back to Noctis, removing his gloves to fix the young prince’s hair. “Are you having second thoughts, your highness?”

The young prince fidgeted nervously, wringing his hands in his lap. “Yeah, I guess I am…”

Ignis re-styled Noctis’s hair, putting the loose spike back into its place. When he finished, he sat beside Noctis on the bed, letting out a soft grunt as he settled beside the prince. “As future king, it is your duty to marry based on political advantage. Lady Lunafreya is the perfect choice for a wife. Her position in Tenebrae will raise support for Lucius in the Imperial continent, and Tenebrae benefits from the support of Lucius. Besides, Lady Lunafreya is beautiful and kind.”

“She is,” Noctis sighed. “I like Luna, but I’m not really sure I like her that way.”

“Many royal marriages are painfully loveless. Such is the duty of the king. But you and Lady Lunafreya still share a close bond.” Ignis adjusted his glasses and looked at Noctis, leaning forward so his elbows rested against his knees. “Is this troubling you because you have feelings for someone else?”

Noctis’s hands froze, but he still didn’t look at Ignis. His ears turned slightly pink at the question. “It’s… maybe…”

“Many royals take concubines during their marriage,” Ignis mentioned. Noctis paled at the suggestion. “Or have secret relationships outside of their marriage.”

“I couldn’t… That doesn’t really seem fair to Luna,” Noctis replied. “I don’t want to hurt her.”

“But you don’t want to sacrifice your own feelings,” Ignis said, his tone somber.

“You and Gladio are so lucky,” Noctis mumbled. “I envy you guys. I see you two and all I can think is how much I wish I could choose who I could be with. To be happy with.”

“The burden of kings,” Ignis comforted. He patted Noctis’s knee and stood, facing his charge. “I can’t change your mind if you decide to back out of the engagement. Lucius and Tenebrae will still find a way to make it through.” Ignis turned to leave the room, but stopped at the door. “But Noct, your closest friends will be there for you, no matter what you choose. No one will leave your side: not even after marriage. And that, in itself, is a type of love.”

Noctis looked up at Ignis, a weak smile gracing his lips, “Thanks, Specs. I think I understand.”

“I await your decision then. You best hurry. Your announcement is set to take place shortly.”

Ignis closed the door behind him and walked slowly back to the sound of the party. He wanted the best for his prince and his country, but he knew that at this point the two were mutually exclusive. He thought of what Noctis said: I envy you and Gladio. Ignis’s heart pounded in his chest. He wanted to tell Gladio how much he meant to the butler. How happy he was with the gardener in his life. How everything seemed a little brighter and better with Gladio around.

By the time he returned to the ballroom with a tray of champagne glasses once again balanced on his hand, it was nearly nine o’clock. The guests were eager for the arrival of the prince, and many watched the stairs in anticipation for the announcement. Ignis found a place near the refreshments table where he could see the stairs, and he took a deep breath of anticipation.

Do what you think is right, Noct.

A voice boomed throughout the hall, loud and crisp, “Ladies and gentlemen, please rise and join me in welcoming Noctis Lucius Caelum, heir apparent to the Lucian throne, and his bride-to-be, Lady Lunafreya Nox Fleuret of Tenebrae.

The couple practically glided into view, ethereal and regal in their immaculate dress. They were in perfect contrast to each other: Noctis in his black suit and Lady Lunafreya dressed in a silvery-white brocade gown with subtle black detailing. The crowd applauded as they descended, waving to the onlookers with soft smiles. When they arrived on the dance floor, they bowed and took stance. The orchestra began to play a waltz, to which, they started dancing, surrounded by onlookers. To the untrained eye, they were a perfect couple. But Ignis simply smiled, knowing that Noct had made great sacrifice for his kingdom.

When others started moving to the dance floor, Ignis saw him, his height unmistakable, but his appearance, nearly so. He wore a double-breasted all black suit that accentuated his strong physique, and his normally feathery black hair was neatly combed and pulled into a low ponytail, tied with a black velvet ribbon. Ignis’s heart thundered in his chest, and his eyes were magnetized to the gardener’s lustful attire. Ignis wanted to reach out, tell him how good he looked, and confess his feelings all over again.

Sometime while Ignis was watching Gladio, the taller man took notice of him. Their eyes locked and Gladio smiled, pushing through the crowd to get to Ignis. “Good evening, Master Amicitia,” Ignis greeted with a formal bow when the taller man approached him, “You have received many compliments on the sylleblossoms tonight. Camelia Claustra would like to compliment you on your work in person. They are certainly one of the loveliest sights at the ball tonight.”

“Almost as lovely as the company,” Gladio smiled, not taking his eyes off the butler before him.

“May I offer you a glass of champagne? Will you be needing an additional drink for whomever you are escorting this evening? A handsome man such as yourself surely has a lady he is attending to.”

Gladio smiled, taking the champagne flute Ignis handed to him, “Just the one. Technically, I’m here alone.”

“Technically?” Ignis asked in mock confusion, betrayed by the upward curve of the corners of his lips.

“I’m pursuing the most attractive man in the room tonight,” Gladio stated in a soft, deep voice. “If you see him, could you pass along a message?”

“And how can I be sure I am passing the message to the correct person?” Ignis responded coyly.

“Oh, he’s not hard to miss,” Gladio purred. “You might catch him near the windows. Or in a mirror.”

“So what’s the message?” Ignis smirked, his heart dancing in his chest at Gladio’s smooth compliments.

Gladio leaned forward, his lips ghosting over Ignis’s ear. “Let him know that I’ll be waiting on the northern balcony at midnight. I’ll wait until dawn if I have to.”

“I’ll be sure to share your message,” Ignis whispered in return. Gladio winked and brushed past Ignis. Their hands touched ever-so-slightly as Gladio passed by. Ignis smiled serenely, smelling the man’s aftershave and oaky cologne. It was enough to drive a man wild with lust, and it took all of Ignis’s better judgement to not follow.

The song was winding to a close when Ignis turned back. Noctis bowed to Luna and left the dance floor, letting his newly-announced fiancée be swept for another dance. Noctis spotted Ignis and headed his way, albeit with difficulty as leaders from across the three continents offered him congratulations on his engagement and praise on his fine catch. Noctis politely shrugged them off until he reached Ignis. He took a flute of champagne from the butler’s tray without even asking and looked up, his face flushed. “We’re going to take a long engagement,” he whispered between sips. “I know it’s just delaying the inevitable, but it’ll give me some time to just… be me, I guess. Think about what I really want. And it’ll keep the Nifs off Tenebrae’s back for a while too.”

“Decided like a true diplomat,” Ignis replied, offering a comforting hand on Noctis’s shoulder. “You made a fine choice. I’m proud of you, your highness.”

Noctis smiled sheepishly at the praise. “Thanks, Specs. Means a lot.”

The sound of a shutter clicked loudly, drawing the prince and his butler’s attention. Prompto beamed, moving the camera away from his face. “Gotta document the big day,” Prompto laughed, leaning forward to take a photo of himself with Noctis. “Not every day your best friend gets engaged.”

Noctis laughed, ruffling Prompto’s flattened blond hair. “Not every day your best friend decides not to style his hair like a chocobo butt either.”

Prompto squawked, throwing his hands up to his head, “Noooct!” he moaned, “You ruined my hair! That took me forever to get right!” They laughed, playfully shoving each other as though nothing had changed. Ignis wondered if Gladio had been wrong about Prompto’s feelings. He still seemed happy, despite the circumstances involving Noctis’s marriage. Nothing changed, and for that, Ignis was relieved.

“Prompto and I are going to go take some shots by the balcony. We’ll see you around, Specs,” Noctis waved, rushing off with Prompto. They hurried off, still laughing at each other. Prompto tried to stop him for another photo, but Noctis elbowed him in the ribs, grinning widely.

It could have just been his imagination, but Ignis thought he saw their hands brush against each other for a split second before they disappeared into the crowd.

Ignis arrived at the northern balcony at half-past midnight. The northern balcony was small, overlooking the gardens and the road to and from the estate, speckled with beams of light from the headlights of receding cars. The balcony itself was decorated elegantly with garlands of white roses and lilies, curtains of hanging white wisteria, and grand urns flowing with sylleblossoms. Ignis could still hear the music through the windows, setting a romantic mood. Gladio leaned against the high railing, his back to the door, showing off his broad back and muscular figure. His long ponytail and the ribbon that held it back swayed subtly in the nighttime breeze. Ignis wanted to pull the ribbon from his hair and let the gardener’s hair fall in curtains around his shoulders so he could tangle his gloved hands in the thick black strands.

When the door to the balcony clicked shut, Gladio turned around to face Ignis. He cocked his head towards the railing, gesturing for Ignis to stand next to him. When Ignis did, Gladio entwined their fingers together and pressed his head against the crown of Ignis’s so the butler would lean against his shoulder. “I’m sorry I made you wait,” Ignis started, but Gladio shushed him, his breath whistling softly against his teeth.

“I said I’d wait til dawn if I had to,” he whispered in return.

When the music changed to a slow melody, Gladio lifted his head. Ignis turned to look at the gardener, his eyes half-lidded behind his silver frames. Gladio turned to Ignis, folded his arm behind his back, and bowed, his palm outstretched to the butler. “Will you do me the honor of sharing this dance with me?” he asked, looking up at Ignis with hopeful eyes.

Ignis smiled, taking Gladio’s hand. “You have certainly been reading your romances. If I didn’t know any better, I would think you a princely lord here to sweep me off my feet.”

“Well, I’m no lord, but am I sweeping you off your feet?” Gladio asked, his smile cheeky.

“Perhaps.”

Ignis had taught Noctis how to dance enough times that he felt comfortable in feminine position. He led Gladio’s hand to his waist, affirming it was okay for the gardener to lead. They started with hesitant steps, trying to match the rhythm of the music and adjust to each other’s heights. But soon enough, Gladio was leading Ignis across the balcony in swooping movements, their chests flush. Their dancing was by no means perfect – sloppy at times but quick to recover. “You’re a good dancer, Iggy,” Gladio said, pulling him back from a spin.

“I get quite a bit of practice with Noct,” Ignis stated, repositioning his hand on Gladio’s firm shoulder. “Despite all the practice, you’re a better dancer than he is.”

“Hard to believe that when he has such a good teacher,” Gladio smirked. “But humor me. What else am I better at?”

“You’re a better kisser,” Ignis grinned.

Gladio’s eyebrows shot up so high, they were practically in his hairline. He missed the next step and fumbled with his feet for a second before getting back into the rhythm. “You kissed Noct?” he spluttered, utterly shocked.

Ignis laughed. “Absolutely not. I just wanted to see your reaction.”

Gladio’s cheeks puffed out, trying to suppress a grin. “You cheeky little shit.”

When the song hit a fermata at the end, Gladio dipped Ignis low to the ground. Their breathing was erratic, both from physical exertion and the palpable desire between them. Their lips met halfway, Ignis’s hands on Gladio’s cheeks as the gardener pulled him back into a standing position. Ignis’s fingers crawled behind Gladio’s neck, pulling the ribbon loose and letting the gardener’s hair fan out. When they broke apart, the next song had already begun. Gladio pressed his forehead against Ignis’s, their noses bumping slightly. “I’m sorry, Ignis,” Gladio whispered longingly. “These weeks have been hell. And they probably haven’t been any better for you.”

“They’ve been devastating, my love,” Ignis exhaled, letting his hands wrap loosely around Gladio’s hips. “But you have no reason to apologize.”

“No, I do,” Gladio insisted, pulling away from Ignis and looking down to his feet. “I was cold to you after I found out you had to work. And I felt so stupid and angry at myself for not realizing that you’d be busy. I would have punched a hole in the wall of the garden shed if the thing wasn’t made of metal. I just wanted to share the night together, Iggy. I mean, the ball’s kind of a big deal. It’s dumb, but I thought it would be kinda… magical, you know?”

Ignis pressed a hand to his face and laughed, his shoulders bouncing. “Gladio, you are… indescribable,” he laughed. “Every moment I spend with you is its own kind of magic. It doesn’t take a ball to feel it.”

“Now who’s the cheesy one,” Gladio smirked, pulling Ignis forward by the lapels of his tailcoat to press a kiss to his nose. He then pulled back, opening his suit jacket to produce a small book from the inside pocket. “I’ve got something for you. Thought you might want to take a look.”

Ignis took the book, his eyebrow raised with uncertainty. “A Pocket Guide to Tenebraen Flowers and Herbs,” he read aloud, thumbing over the embossed gold letters that shone against the faded green cover. The book looked fairly worn, and Ignis noticed one of the corners was dog-eared

“Open it up,” Gladio urged, nervously rubbing his nose.

Ignis turned to the dog-eared page and nearly dropped the book. He looked up at Gladio, his eyes wide. Tucked into the pages was a pressed, blue sylleblossom. “Gladio,” Ignis whispered. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s the first one that bloomed,” Gladio said, smiling sheepishly. “I know I usually give you fresh flowers that have some significant meaning in their language, but this just sorta seemed right beyond that.”

“What does it mean?” Ignis asked, an insatiable smile tugging at the corners of his lips, filled with unadulterated happiness.

“Well, sylleblossoms themselves don’t have a definite meaning,” Gladio explained, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “But they are categorized as a violet. And since they’re blue, they most likely mean something similar to the blue violet.”

“Which is?” Ignis asked, hanging on Gladio’s words.

“Love.”

Ignis softly closed the book and leaned forward, pressing a short, chaste kiss to Gladio’s lips. “Then love it will be.”

#gladnis #gladio x ignis #gladiolus amicitia #Ignis Stupeo Scientia #mentioned/implied promptis #tooth rotting fluff #fanfiction #my work

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easynaturalhairstyle · 5 years

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15 most beautiful examples of a ponytail with pony

A ponytail with a pony is a hairstyle in which the hair is pulled out of the face, collected at the back of the head, secured with a tie or a hair accessory, and styled with a fringe at the front. With this totally edgy hairdo you make a very casual look that attracts everyone's attention!

There are days when you want to tie your whole hair to a classic pony – be it a day at the gym, under the sun or just looking extra sharp and tidy – but that does not mean you can do it with less Must make style.

Be inspired by the ponytail princess Ariana Grande and the models Bella Hadid and Ashley Graham and notice how fresh they look with this style. That's because of the versatility that this look offers.

The key is to complement your face shape and features by either framing them with your pony bangs, varying the height of your ponytail, or playing with the volume and texture of your mane. To achieve the perfect look, products are also necessary.

With a ponytail with a pony you can easily make a good hair day possible! Browse this updated collection to discover the different styles of wearing this glamorous look!

Curly natural hair ponytail

How would you describe this look?

I love her natural curls, enhanced with strategically placed highlights that add depth and dimension to her long curly hair. I love how easy it is to comb your fingers through the curls. This look can be suitable for any occasion!

Any advice for someone considering it?

Sometimes, overworking curls can lead to curling. Less is more when it comes to curly hair.

I love Bumble and Bumble Curls Defining Cream because it makes curly hair soft and never stiff. I prefer air drying to defuse the curls. Curly hair tends to lie on the dry side.

Emulsify a small amount of Bumble and Bumble Curls Defining Cream in your hand and run it through damp hair, knead it a little to really define it and get the most out of your curls. Use your fingertips to reinforce the edge around your face.

Bend your fingers through your hair, tilt your head backwards (that's how you get close to your head, looking down makes a bump or is not tight on the head). Pull your hair loosely to the nape and let an inch wide hair bun out of the ponytail. Use a hair pin to make a ponytail, then take the 1 inch piece of hair and wrap it around your ponytail at the back of your neck to hide the hair lock. Insert the end of the hair (at least one centimeter before the end) into the hair attachment (a fastener is a clear, slightly slippery rubber band). Voila! Simple pony tail for the working woman who wants to go to work after work.

page Pony

How would you describe this look?

For me, this ponytail with pony is stylish but not so ordinary. You really do not see ponytails in brides very often. It requires having thicker hair and not wanting to be so traditional, but you stand out so much more. Your look is more memorable. I always hear people say, "I can not do this" and I love playing on the other side and getting people out of their comfort zones. Yes, it is a ponytail, but it still has elements and details that do not make it so simple and simple.

Any advice for someone considering it?

The hair thickness and length is obviously very important here. It was all her natural hair that makes life a lot easier, but I'm sure it could also be done with extensions if your hair is at least under your shoulders. I love using Oribe dry texture spray to get in and roughen the hair. Silky, straight hair can sometimes be hard to style because gravity just wants to pull it down.

I recommended this bride to get some highlights so that every hairstyle she had would show dimension and already roughen her hair, just a touch. So many pictures of updos that I see are usually on blonde hair because it shows the style the most. Between the highlights and maybe a texture or sea salt spray, you can really get the hair moving and not fall flat.

I live for Oribe "Swept" or "Puff me!". These powders go into your roots (or maybe your curls or a strand) and give so much tact and grit that you get insane volume and texture! It also acts like a dry shampoo to remove some fat or oil from the scalp. Seriously the best for pony too!

I am firmly convinced that everyone can do everything as long as he wants. I think sometimes brides let their mothers overweight and turn them to what they want to make them look like their "little girl". I always see half updos and buns between which this bride was, and before I started with her bun I had her hair in a ponytail and we looked at each other and got starry eyes and what it looked like already. I played it a little more and we fell in love!

High ponytail

How would you describe this look?

To describe this look, I think it's fun and vibrant! It keeps you feeling sassy, and you stand out of the crowd. It's not your everyday hair color or style. I love that it's not something you can pull off, it takes time to work it out.

Any advice for someone considering it?

If this is your color of choice, you need to understand that it takes a lot of time and patience, lots of money, and realistic expectations of what your hair is and is actually capable of achieving that color. Consulting with your stylist is a must.

If you're someone who washes or floats his hair every day, that's not a color for you either. The care is crucial and the right products are a must, you need heat protection (Joico) and good shampoo and conditioner (Olaplex No. 5 & 6), good oil (Moroccan oil) and purple shampoo (Loma shampoo and conditioner). Try to keep the heat as low as possible. This color is not for everyone and you need to know how to take care of it and make sure you know it's a commitment.

Very brilliant ponytail

How would you describe this look?

This hairstyle is perfect for weddings, prom, birthdays or a fun night out. A simple day at the beach or just lying around. I love this hairstyle because it is so versatile and can be worn with style and grace on any occasion. Ask Ariana Grande, as this is one of her favorite looks!

Any advice for someone considering it?

I love it because it's a real go-to hairstyle especially for women with short hair who want longer hair. This look can be achieved on all hair types. My model has 4c hair so I blow dried her hair straight. Finished with a nice flat iron and after that, it is manageable enough to mold in place. Once I got her into my hair I took it then proceeded to add the extensions. Taking a healthy section of the back of ponytail, I wrapped it around to create the genius effect, finishing with some cool baby hairs. I used to get glued holding spray, salon pro hair glue, rubber bands, and bobby pins. Depending on hair type and proper care, like staying away from hot steamy showers & wearing a scarf at bedtime, this can last up two weeks!

Pony with Side Swept Bangs

How would you describe this look?

This is a dirty ponytail with a texture that looks soft and yet is under control for people on the move.

Any advice for someone considering it?

It suits every type of hair, but you need to get a soft look with waves or curls from thermal tools. Suitable products are a powder or a super flexible spray.

Messy ponytail

How would you describe this look?

This look is a beachy pony. I love textured hair with body, and low ponytail suits everyone, especially if you do not have a pile of hair to work with.

Any advice for someone considering it?

This style would work on most hair types, taking into consideration your hair length and how well your hair holds a wave. Messy looks great on hair with color variation. When creating this look you want to use it. Sea salt spray is great to create some natural wave then you can add some in with a wall. I would suggest waving the whole head first and then popping it in a pony than working through it. It's great for second or third-day hair!

Cornrow's ponytail

Pull through with small braids in a loop. Add the beads and some colorful ties and you've got the wigs of all.

Braided ponytail

A timeless look for the modern girl. Crown braids, which end with loose waves, give the ponytail a beautiful shape.

Ponytail with long pony

Ponytails are greatly underestimated; They are one of the easiest styles to handle, but they present a wide selection of stylish performances. Long fringes and fringes make for a softer look on every wearer.

Slender ponytail

For the lady on the road such ponytails show a primed look, but waves and hair accessories give the look an exciting touch.

Extended ponytail

Place extensions and add them to a ponytail to fill in the ends. Curl ends and beats and decorates for an elegant look.

Fast woven ponytail

Comb the natural hair tightly in a ponytail or bun and then wrap the extensions on a bun. The style bangs appropriately with gel or spray for flawless edges.

Long ponytail

A common style, but one that is meant for preservation, for all occasions, for all women. This one definitely does not make a difference.

Ponytail with dull pony

A tall pony with such long bangs creates the illusion of a smaller forehead for a daintier look.

Side ponytail with pony

Well-dressed women are familiar with such fringe hairstyles. Throw in a deadly ponytail and watch as they look with such envy.

15 most beautiful examples of a ponytail with pony

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qualitytacolover · 5 years

Text

15 most beautiful examples of a ponytail with pony

New Post has been published on https://www.easypromhairstyles.com/15-most-beautiful-examples-of-a-ponytail-with-pony-2.html

15 most beautiful examples of a ponytail with pony

With a ponytail with a pony you can easily make a good hair day possible! Browse this updated collection to discover the different styles of wearing this glamorous look!

Curly natural hair ponytail

How would you describe this look?

Any advice for someone considering it?

Sometimes, overworking curls can lead to curling. Less is more when it comes to curly hair.

I love Bumble and Bumble Curls Defining Cream because it makes curly hair soft and never stiff. I prefer air drying to defuse the curls. Curly hair tends to lie on the dry side.

page Pony

How would you describe this look?

Any advice for someone considering it?

High ponytail

How would you describe this look?

Any advice for someone considering it?

Very brilliant ponytail

How would you describe this look?

Any advice for someone considering it?

Pony with Side Swept Bangs

How would you describe this look?

This is a dirty ponytail with a texture that looks soft and yet is under control for people on the move.

Any advice for someone considering it?

It suits every type of hair, but you need to get a soft look with waves or curls from thermal tools. Suitable products are a powder or a super flexible spray.

Messy ponytail

How would you describe this look?

This look is a beachy pony. I love textured hair with body, and low ponytail suits everyone, especially if you do not have a pile of hair to work with.

Any advice for someone considering it?

Cornrow's ponytail

Pull through with small braids in a loop. Add the beads and some colorful ties and you've got the wigs of all.

Braided ponytail

A timeless look for the modern girl. Crown braids, which end with loose waves, give the ponytail a beautiful shape.

Ponytail with long pony

Slender ponytail

For the lady on the road such ponytails show a primed look, but waves and hair accessories give the look an exciting touch.

Extended ponytail

Place extensions and add them to a ponytail to fill in the ends. Curl ends and beats and decorates for an elegant look.

Fast woven ponytail

Comb the natural hair tightly in a ponytail or bun and then wrap the extensions on a bun. The style bangs appropriately with gel or spray for flawless edges.

Long ponytail

A common style, but one that is meant for preservation, for all occasions, for all women. This one definitely does not make a difference.

Ponytail with dull pony

A tall pony with such long bangs creates the illusion of a smaller forehead for a daintier look.

Side ponytail with pony

Well-dressed women are familiar with such fringe hairstyles. Throw in a deadly ponytail and watch as they look with such envy.

0 notes