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imaginesmai · 4 years

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Tom Holland - True love kiss

This is long, this is perfect and I’m dying of fluff right here. Am I using my denial of Endgame in this fic? Yes. Tony, Peter and Morgan as a family was what we deserved. Enjoy!

Plot: “I tricked your little sister telling her Ursula has stolen my voice because I have a massive hangover, and now we have to kiss in order not to break her innocence”

Au were Tom works in Disney store, has a massive headache and can’t talk, and now he has lied to a little girl and she wants to get him a ‘true love kiss’; which happens to you, her older sister and Tom’s highschool crush.

“Dude, you look like shit”

Tom raised his head from where it was resting against the counter and gave Harrison the biggest glare of death that he could muster in his condition. The boy just returned a cheeky grin.

“Rough night?”

His head was pounding, his throat was dry, and more than anything at that point, Tom wished that the ground would just open up and swallow him whole, and put him out of his misery. When he had woken up that Sunday morning to his alarm blaring, his first instinct had been to call in sick. But after a few minutes of lazing around buried in blankets, his sense of guilt had kicked in, and with a groan, Tom had dutifully risen from his comfortable position and went in for his shift at the Disney Store.

There were some days when he cursed the fact that he had taken up the offer; so far away from his home, with shift too early in the morning. Normally, he swallowed the whines and put on a fake smile for the excited kids that ran around as soon as it opened. As soon as he closed his eyes again, Tom knew it was one of those days, where he would have to search deep inside the excitement to not to frown to those kids.

Last night, he had had the perfect idea to go to a party. His brother had begged him to go, and since the fucker didn’t have to work next morning, he kept Tom awake until the sun rose. He drank, he had fun and maybe flirted with a blonde – although he wasn’t sure. Then, he threw up in the toilet, drowned in headaches and swallowed the pills for the hangover.

And the worst part of it, was that last night activities involved yelling and laughing, and it had resulted in the morning’s hardship; his voice was practically gone, and all that was left was a pretty sore throat.

Tom let his head flop back against the counter, but raised his hand in a rude gesture for Harrison’s remark.

“Boy, are you grouchy when you’re hungover” he teased. Harrison stood, stretching his arms as prepared to leave, probably heading to his own job at the Nike store on the other side of the mall. “See you later, Tom”

Tom just made some recognition noise from the back of his throat.

The store was fairly quiet for a Sunday, something Tom was thankful for. There were a few kids roaming around, but a quick glance told Tom that his co-worker could more than handle it. Sometimes a break from dealing with customers was nice too. He spent the next couple of hours working at a relaxed pace, stocking shelves and making sure the displays were all neat and tidy.

“Hi, mister!”

At the sound of the sweet voice, Tom looked down to see a young girl standing next to him, giving him a wide toothless smile, and looking as cute as can be. Her hair was tied up in two braids, and she was dressed in a sparkly blue Elsa princess dress; if he had to say, she wasn’t older than four.

Tom smiled warmly at her and waved hello. He then lifted his eyes from the little girl and glanced around, frowning slightly when he noticed she was alone.

“Mommy and daddy are next door buying some diapers for our new baby brother, with my big big sister” she explained when she saw Tom’s questioning gaze. “They said we could wait here until they are finished. My big brother is over there looking at the Star Wars toys”

Tom looked over to where the girl was pointing, and sure enough there was a boy about sever, busy looking excited over the new Star Wars Millennium Falcon Lego set.

“Mommy said I can pick a toy for the new baby” the girl continued. “Can you help me get that Olaf? It’s too high and I can’t reach it”

Tom smiled and grabbed the plushie toy that the little girl was pointing at. His muscles screamed at him when he stretched his arm, but he didn’t mind; from the corner of his eye, he could see the little girl bouncing up and down. The smile on her face became even wider once he passed it to her, and she hugged the snowman to her chest. Tom chuckled soundlessly, and brought a hand to his throat. Maybe it was time for another glass of warm milk. Sure on the café down wouldn’t care.

“Thanks, mister!”

Swallowing down the hurt from being called mister for the second time one a day, Tom grinned and gave her a thumbs up. The girl’s expressions suddenly became concerned and she looked at him inquisitively. She tilted her hear slightly and a little furrow between her eyebrows formed as she stared at him intensely.

“Can’t you talk?”

Tom’s lips twitched and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. He couldn’t tell to a little girl that he couldn’t talk because he had screamed every bit of the songs of last night, and that, combined with cheap vodka, wasn’t a good choice. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders and pointed to his throat, shaking his head. The girl’s eyes widened.

“But why can’t you talk?”

Probably, if her parents would have been around she would have been scolded for asking such a question. But they weren’t, and Tom thought there wasn’t anything wrong with enjoying the attention that kid was willing to give him

Quickly, he took his notepad that was sitting by the cash register and wrote something down. He held it out to the little girl. She glanced at it, frowning cutely when she couldn’t make out any of the words he had written. Like if they were in a TV show, the girl closed her eyes tightly and yelled out for his brother. Tom almost jumped on his place from the strength and volume of that little girl voice.

A boy with short brown hair and a pout made its way where Tom was.

“What’s wrong, Morgan?”

“Peter!” the girl turned around, shoving the paper to his brother’s hands. “He can’t talk! Something is wrong! Can you read what he wrote?”

“My name is Tom” the boy read it out loud, giving Tom a weird glance. He looked then to his sister, who was looking at him as if he was reading the secret to immortality. “I can’t speak because – uh, because Ursula the sea, witch? Stole my voice, but I’m happy to assist you”

Morgan let out a gasp and, if possible, her eyes widened even more. She clutched Olaf even tighter to her chest, looking devastated at Tom’s predicament. Peter, on the other hand, didn’t look quite as convinced, looking at Tom doubtfully. Still, he didn’t say anything.

“I know how we can get your voice back!” Morgan tugged on Tom’s hand, and smiled brightly at him. “We need – We need to find your true love! You need true love’s kiss!”

“I don’t think that would work, Morgan” Peter announced. He didn’t sound too convinced, but Tom could see that his little mind was trying to work around the lie yet. “How do we even know Ursula is real? We’ve never seen her”

“Of course it would work. It worked with Ariel!” Morgan began pulling Tom around, giving a hard glare to his brother. “Ursula is very tricky. She could be hiding in plain sight and you would never know! Do you have a true love, Tom?”

Honestly, the boy was having more fun than at the party last night. Tom shook his head and allowed the girl to begin dragging him around the store, stopping after taking just a few steps. He watched as Morgan surveyed their surrounded, Peter watching too even if he tried to hide it. There weren’t much people on the store, just two couples and their children.

“We are going to find your true love. Everyone has one!” Morgan seemed convinced; and his brother didn’t seem to need much more, since he had a excited smile too.

“Maybe we can go to the food court!” Peter chimed in, now completely caught up in the situation. “There’s always lots of people there!”

The idea of the two children leaving the store with him made him pale. As harmless as he thought his little joke was in the beginning, he clearly hadn’t thought things through. If he was seen with two kids on the mall, if the parents saw him with their kids, he could be in so much trouble he didn’t want to think off. Even if the kids hand bright expressions on their faced, Tom thought it wouldn’t hurt to force his voice one more time to avoid being fired.

Before he could cough out the rawness of his throat, another voice appeared.

“Morgan! Peter! Time to leave!” a man’s voice echoed through the shop, and Tom let out a relieved breath. Both kids looked extremely disappointed as their father appeared and beckoned them towards him. “We’re gonna grab some lunch – your mother is already waiting for us at the food court with Y/N”

The siblings looked at each other with glee, and Morgan let go of Tom’s hand to run to his father.

“Daddy! Daddy, Tom has to come with us! We need to find his true love!”

The man, who had dark sunglasses on and the same brown eyes than his kids, gave Tom a confused look. And Tom understood; kids brought home stray cats or dogs, not full grown men to look for their love. However, the man didn’t seem to react in a scandalous way, just tightened his tie and let his son speak.

“Ursula stole his voice” Peter added. “We have to help him get it back!”

“Please, daddy! Can he come? Can he come?” Morgan jumped up and down, begging. Cooper walked forwards too, and started to fill the man’s cheeks, covered by a black goatee with kisses.

“Morg, honey” the man began slowly, pushing his kids away. “Uh, this boy had to work, he can’t just up and leave. He has responsibilities here. What do we day about responsible, Pete?”

“That it’s important” Peter answered, pouting.

The man gave a whole speech that had Tom with wide eyes; even if he wasn’t specially tall, or strong, he held a determination in his voice that he hadn’t heard in anyone. After promising that Tom would be okay without a voice for another week, since they would come back just for him, the kids left with their father. Both of them gave Tom a big hug and promised a thousand times that they would come back.

That kind of innocence was pure, and if a five minute interaction could help them to keep that innocence even longer; well, Tom was willing to promise them back that he could wait.

After all, what could it hurt?

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

Ninety minutes later, Tom was feeling a lot better. His headache was gone – courtesy of Harrison, who had taken pity of him and given him some Advil and a nice, streaming mug of tea, which helped to sooth his throat. His voice was even starting to come back, albeit it was accompanied with a slight rasp. All in all, he felt like a normal functioning human being.

The store had slowed down in activity even more; the bright and sunny day was then dark and with ominous rain clouds rolling in. Tom was almost sure that it wouldn’t hurt anyone to go home before he had to shower in cold water when it started to rain.

Pounding footsteps were suddenly heard echoing from the hallway, and Tom looked up just in time to see Peter appearing at the front entrance. Peter spotted him and squealed with excitement, whipping around to wave.

“He’s still here, Morgan! I see him!”

“Hurry up, Y/N!”

At the sound of Morgan’s voice, Tom rounded the corner of the cashier desk and frowned. Behind him, he could hear Harrison, who was lazily hanging around, begin to snicker as he watched. He already knew what had happened with the kids, and after a whole lot of teasing, Tom had regretted telling him.

Just then, Morgan appeared in his line of vision, pulling a young woman behind her by the hand. You just looked confused as you struggled with your shopping bags and the purse, all while trying to keep Morgan from running off without you. The second the little ball of energy saw Tom, she let go of your hand and went running up to him. Blinking the upcoming embarrassment, Tom bent down to one knee so that he could be at eye level with Morgan.

“Hi Tom!” Morgan greeted enthusiastically. “We thought – we thought that if you couldn’t go and find your true love we could bring her to you! This is my sister, Y/N, and she can be your true love!”

As you stepped closer to him, Tom looked up – and felt his mouth go dry. His stomach fluttered when he recognized you. You had never talked in person, but it was hard not to notice when Y/N Stark walked into the room. You had shared a couple of classes together back in highschool, and Tom sat directly behind you in your biology class. He wasn’t that much of a genius, but thanks to you he passed all the classes; and it was really a miracle, because young Tom spent all his time staring at you.

He could almost remember the stuttering when you talked, the burning heat on his cheeks and how sad he was when he learned that you had moved away. Now that he thought about that, he had already met Peter as a baby, and your father a couple of times. How could he forget his forever crush?

“Didn’t you guys want to go to the arcade?” you asked, your voice sweet and gentle as he remembered. “It’s on the other side of the mall”

“Y/N” Peter talked “We have to ask you something really important”

Panic filled Tom. He desperately wracked his brain, trying to come up with a way to stop the kids before they could embarrass him to the next decade.

“Can you be Tom’s true love?” Morgan and Peter asked at the same time, slightly unrhythmical.

For the second time that day, Tom wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole, never to be seen again. His cheeks turned red and his ears pink, and he wanted to bash his head against the counter.

“W-what?” you asked. Your gaze landed on him and he could see the recognition flashing through your eyes. The smile that appeared on your face made the whole situation more embarrassment. “Tom! It had been ages since I saw you!”

Tom nodded dumbly.

“Y/N!” Morgan stamped her foot impatiently and your attention landed on your little sister once more. “This is really important!”

“Ursula might come back, Y/N!” Peter backed up. Tom wasn’t sure who was more invested in the story, if the big brother or the little sister. “Can you be his true love or not? He doesn’t have all day!”

“Who the f -uh, who is Ursula?” you gave a confused glance to Tom, who was still kneeling on the ground frozen because I could fucking faint.

“The evil sea witch” Morgan rolled her eyes, slumping her shoulders as if you were the most annoying thing in her short life. She showed you the pad of paper with Tom’s note written on it. “Remember, Y/N? She stole Ariel’s voice. And now she took Tom’s voice, and the only way to get it back is if he finds his true love!”

Tom could hear Harrison laughing his ass off on the background. His friend for sure knew who you were, as Tom couldn’t stop talking about you even years after you left, so the situation was hilarious for the blonde. Meanwhile, Tom was feeling everything moving in a slow motion, the headache back and his palms sweaty. He had the prettiest girl he could think of in front of him, with a note that confirmed his implication on the true love thing. If you slapped him and called him a creep, he wouldn’t blame you.

But the smile didn’t fell from your lips, it just transformed into a little laugh. You tried to cover it up with a cough and brought your hand to your mouth. Tom could see the happy shine in your eyes, the same he had enjoyed when he was in highschool and made you laugh. Even if it wasn’t going as bad as it could, Tom was sure he wouldn’t be calling you to meet up, as much as it hurt him; more like changing cities and avoiding you like the plague. Forger ever mucking up the courage to ask you on a date.

“Yeah, I can” your voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he started at you in disbelief as you smirked down at him. Your hair was shorter, your features more mature and you were a bit taller; but he felt like he was all over that nervous boy that followed you through the corridors in hopes of you noticing him.

“Really?!” Morgan squealed, her wide toothless smile lit up her entire face.

“Only because you ask me and because you’re gonna eat all your veggies tonight” you tapped both of your siblings’ noses and laughed when a defeated sigh left their mouth. Then, you looked down at Tom and raised a brow. “Tom is going to have to stand up, though”

There was no way you could be serous about that. There was no way his crush from highschool, who he hadn’t seen in years, was asking him to stand up to kiss him. Not Harrison, who had stopped laughing behind Tom and was looking at the scene with wide eyes. Not your siblings, who were waiting for him to move. No, you were talking to Tom and Tom was having a heart attack.

“Tom, come on!” Peter urged him, tugging on his sleeve. For such a small boy, your brother was strong.

The whole thing was more than a little weird, but Tom wasn’t that stupid to deny the opportunity that it presented. And if there was one thing that could be said about Tom, was that he was fucking in love with you he never backed down. Even if it was going to blow up in his face.

Up close, he was able to notice the little details that he otherwise would have missed. You smelled so good that he had to stop himself from sniffling. Your eyes were brighter, and your hair was the same colour he remembered. He looked to the small mole that he had found years ago, and it was in the same place; so were the wrinkles around your eyes and the dimple on your cheek. You tucked your hair behind your ear, and Tom could see himself studying the last history test on his bed, his mother knocking on the door to see if everything was alright and hearing her giggling when Tom stuttered.

“You really have to make it a special kiss” Morgan instructed, dead serious. “Like the kind of kisses that daddy gives mommy sometimes. A real true love’s kiss!”

“Alright” you nodded, stepping closer.

Gently, you grasped the lapels of his store vest and pulled him even closer, so that your bodies touched each other. Tom leaned in automatically, his head dropping and your lips slanting together. It wasn’t as hard as he thought, as his arms wrapped around your waist and you kissed him once, twice, three times. It wasn’t the first time he had been kissed, but without a doubt, it was easily the best kiss of his life.

Your body felt warm against him, or maybe it was the nerves, and he realized that you fitted perfectly together. Your noses didn’t touch, your hand seemed to belong to the back of his neck and even the heights were perfect for each other. Tom was about to melt in the ground, when you teared apart.

He seemed them to see the two kids looking at you with wide eyes and mouth open, Harrison on his side vision with the phone on his ear and whispering-talking excitedly. You blushing and tucking your hands in the pockets of your jacket, looking down.

“Now try talking, Tom!” Morgan said, her voice sounding impossibly loud in the empty store. Tom had never been so thankful that there were no customers around.

“Uh” Tom ran a hand through his head, floundering for words.

Tom let his eyes go back to you, and your gazes met. He tuned out the kids urging him to talk, and cherished how you didn’t look ready to run off and call the police on him. It wasn’t probably the best way to ask, since you hadn’t seen each other for years and you had kissed because of a shitty tale told to a little girl as an excuse for his hangover.

But, what else could he lose? After all, in fairy tales everyone had a happy ending; and he couldn’t let the two main characters hanging.

“What about a date?”

Peter Parker taglist:

@delicately-important-trash

@lexxxistrips

@smilexcaptainx

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callumsmitchells · 3 years

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got your spell on me (ao3)

"Ooh, Callum!" Kathy shouts out, as if she's suddenly just thought of something.

Callum turns back around to face her, stepping out of the way of the opening door to the cafe, allowing a customer to walk in, out of the early morning cold. She's holding out a leaflet, when he looks back. "What's that?" He asks, putting his take out sandwich in the same hand as his styrofoam cup of tea in order to take the leaflet from her hand.

"It's a fancy dress competition." She says, and jots down the new customers order on a notepad. "Over at The Albert, for Halloween. A grand to the best dressed couple."

Callum lets out a soft chuckle. "A couples competition?" He asks. "I can't see Ben wanting to dress up, if I'm completely honest."

Kathy waves out a hand, dismissing the idea. "Don't take no for an answer, or he'll have me to answer to instead."

He chuckles at that, knowing that Kathy definitely won't let Ben tell her no. "I'll let him know after work then." Callum grins, edging closer to the door. "See you later."

"See you later, love." Kathy calls out, watching as he exits the cafe and walks past the window.

It's much later on in the day, when Callum walks in through the front door, closing it quietly behind him. He kicks off his shoes, his feet aching in them, and pads through to the living room, opening up the top three buttons on his white shirt, exposing his neck and a sliver of his chest. Warm lights illuminate the room, the curtains drawn to a close to keep the cold out and the warmth in. The television is playing, and Ben's spread out on the sofa, sitting upright with his legs reaching the other side. He looks up at Callum, and holds his arms open, allowing Callum to flop down onto the sofa too, fitting perfectly in Ben's hold.

Ben runs his fingers through Callum's hair gently, brushing it out of the way of his eyes, whilst his other hand rubs up and down Callum's bicep, attempting to warm him up from the coldness outside. "Tough day?" Ben asks, and nudges his lips down against the crown of Callum's head, pressing a soft and welcoming kiss there.

Callum hums. "Already looking forward to the weekend." He admits. "Is that bad?"

"I don't think so." Ben says softly. "You're helping others all week, you deserve a couple of days break to yourself."

Callum turns his face slightly, sinking further into his boyfriend's body, the warmth of Ben enveloping him entirely. He presses his lips to Ben's chest, and lets out a gentle sigh. "Have you spoken to your mum today?" He asks, and strains his neck so he can look up at Ben.

Ben shakes his head. "No." He says. "Should I have?"

"I went to the cafe this morning, wanted to get something for my dinner." Callum says. "She's doing a couples costume competition at The Albert, for Halloween."

"Nope." Ben says, defiantly. "Not happening."

Callum pouts, pushing his body up so he can see Ben's face, but properly this time. His arms shake under the weight, his body exhausted from his day at work. "Oh, come on babe! It'll be fun. We never get to do anything like that."

Ben wraps his arms around Callum's body again, hands hot to touch, a stark contrast to the bitter cold outside. It sends a shiver down Callum's spine, and Ben knows it. "I don't want to dress up." Ben says. "I just want to take Lexi out trick or treating, go for a few drinks with you, and then come home."

"Please?" Callum asks, fluttering his eyelashes in Ben's direction. "There's a cash prize, a grand to the best costume."

There's a pause, and Callum knows Ben's thinking about it now. He knows him too well. "Normally people would start off by making that point." Ben admits, and there's a smile that's starting to grow wider and wider across his face.

"Is that a yes then?" Callum asks, pushing further up Ben's body so that they're face to face now, with barely centimetres separating their lips.

Ben's eyes drop from looking at Callum's eyes to his lips, and back up again. He gulps slightly, before speaking. "On one condition."

Callum cocks his head to the side, and raises an eyebrow. "Which is?" He inquires.

"I pick the costumes." Ben finally says, and he moves his body so his face is inching ever closer to Callum's lips, their thighs pressing against one another, and Ben's certain he can feel Callum's heart beating in his chest.

Callum hums softly, and his eyes drop to Ben's lips, and he allows himself to fall down slightly, his lips brushing against Ben's gentle ones. It's soft and warm and inviting, and Callum really can't believe his luck that he gets to experience this every single day for the rest of his life. The kiss is over before it's begun though, because Callum pushes up, and it takes everything in him to not let out a soft chuckle when he witnesses Ben instinctively chasing his lips and bursting out in a whine when he can't reach without moving further. "You can pick the costumes." Callum says, and he shifts his body so that he's balancing on one arm, leaving his other hand free to unbutton Ben's shirt, exposing his chest. "But I refuse to go naked, so don't even think about it."

Ben's hands roam around Callum's back, until they finally rest on his hips, tugging his shirt out of his belted trousers, exposing his skin and a tiny portion of his boxers. "Don't worry about that babe, those costumes will just be for the bedroom. I'm not letting anyone else see you like that." He says, possessively.

"Oh will it now?" Callum teases, and leans down to take Ben's lips between his own once again.

Ben grins, and pushes his hands further up Callum's back, directly onto his skin now. He hums in his throat, his head dizzyingly light and there's a childlike giddiness within him as he tries to rack his brain of costume ideas, but Callum's body against his proves to be a distraction he can't seem to complain about.

---

Callum's sitting on the sofa, watching as Ben ties Lexi's hair up. "I told you, you should've done that first, before spray painting her hair. Lola will kill you if it doesn't come out by the way, she's got to go to school tomorrow!"

"Lexi." Ben says, leaning forward so his lips are closer to her ears. "Tell Callum to shut up, or I won't be going anywhere with him."

Callum rolls his eyes and picks up a cushion, throwing it in Ben's direction, though it brushes against Lexi's hair. "And if that gets stained bright green I won't be the one taking the blame!"

Lexi giggles, and jumps up once Ben's finished with her hair.

"Go and get your shoes and coat on." Ben says, and cleans his hand on a spare wipe.

Lexi bounces off, excited at the idea of going trick or treating.

"It's come off my hand easy enough." Ben says, holding his hand out to show Ben. "It'll be fine, it said one wash would take it out."

Callum looks up at Ben and smiles, reaching his hand out to link with Ben's, fitting together perfectly. "Have you sorted out the costumes anyway?" He asks.

"All done." Ben grins, and leans down to press a gentle kiss to Callum's lips, which Callum accepts. "Everythings in our bedroom, but don't get ready until I'm back. I want to see your reaction. We'll be about half an hour, tops. She's too excited to not rush around every house."

Callum hums and presses a kiss to Ben's lips once more, letting go of his hand. "Have fun."

Lexi runs back into the room. "Can we go now?" She's holding out her plastic pumpkin bucket, a bright beaming grin on her face.

Ben chuckles, and leans down to kiss Callum's forehead, a fleeting goodbye kiss.

"Don't forget to get me some sweets too, Lex." Callum says.

"Are you not coming too?" She asks.

"Got to stay here, in case anyone comes trick or treating here." He says, lifting up a box of sweets to his side.

Lexi accepts that, but it's clear she would like Callum to come trick or treating with them too. She skips out to the corridor and Ben shrugs on his coat over his shoulders. "Half an hour." He mouths, and Callum nods.

The door closes shut moments later, and Callum's left in the quiet, until there's a tapping at the front door and he's forced into standing up.

---

It's just over half an hour later when the door reopens and the cold swirls in. "Only me!" Ben calls out, and then pokes his head around the opening to the living room, a beaming grin across his face. His nose is bright red from the cold air, his hair wild and all over the place. "I dropped Lexi off at Lola's, so we can get ready and go. Have you looked?"

Callum shakes his head. "I haven't been upstairs." He admits. "What did Lola say about Lexi's hair?"

Ben walks up the stairs, and he doesn't need to look back to see if Callum is following him, because he can feel his presence hot on his tail. He chuckles softly. "Didn't stay around long enough to find out. Said it was your idea."

"Oi!" Callum shouts, mouth opening in shock.

Ben turns to face Callum, his hand on the door handle, waiting to push it open. "Are you sure you want to go tonight? We could just stay in."

Callum smiles softly, and leans down to press a gentle kiss to Ben's lips, intoxicating. "We're going." He adamants. "We've already told your mum to expect us anyway."

Ben hums. "Go on then." He says, as he opens the door, allowing Callum to walk in and see the costumes.

Laying there, on their bed, is a police uniform, adorned with handcuffs and a matching hat; alongside orange prison clothes.

"You want me to be a copper?" Callum asks, one eyebrow raised.

Ben looks up at Callum and grins. He shakes his head. "It'd be too obvious if I was the one being nicked. So Callum, it looks like you'll be the one with the handcuffs on tonight."

---

The music is already blaring, when they make it over to The Albert. There's a queue, but it seems to be going down quickly enough as people stream in.

"I'm freezing in this." Callum says, towering over Ben as they walk in together, his lips close to his ears.

Ben turns his body slightly, and grins. His hat almost gets knocked off as it brushes against Callum's face, and Callum's arms are wrapping around his body. "You'll soon warm up." He says, and lets his fingers trail over the sliver of skin that's being left exposed by the garish orange shirt not having buttons all the way to the top of the material.

Callum rolls his eyes, and follows Ben to the bar. Kathy's standing there, eyes crinkled from laughing. She hands over two bottles of beer to them, and then wipes her hand clean of condensation.

"Who thought of this then?" She asks, chuckling out a laugh.

Callum nods his head in Ben's direction, who's standing with a huge grin on his face, not even trying to disguise how pleased he is.

"If this doesn't win us that money, I don't know what will." Ben says, and he swings the handcuffs around on his index finger. "Even if he's refusing to wear these, but I'll convince him soon enough, won't I babe?"

"Yeah, you keep believing that." Callum says, though there's a beaming smile on his face filled with joy and excitement and they both know those handcuffs will end up on Callum's wrists by the end of the night.

"Who's judging anyway?" Ben asks. "I need to get on their good side."

Kathy grins. "I see it's the prize that got you here, not wanting to see what we've done with the place." She says, but really she wouldn't have Ben any other way. "The bar staff. Completely impartial, so don't be trying to buy them off, or you'll be disqualified."

Ben gasps out of a laugh, holding his hands to his heart. "Is that what you think of me? If you must know, I'm an upstanding police officer tonight, mother. If anyone would try bribery, it'll be Callum."

---

By the end of the night, Callum's got one handcuff on him, the other on Ben, as they walk home together, swaying side to side with the amount of alcohol in their system. They've both got wide grins on their faces, beaming and giddy, and a whole thousand pounds richer.

#ballum #ben x callum #ben mitchell x callum highway #ben mitchell #callum highway #myfic

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mattmurdocksscars · 4 years

Text

Wait For You

This idea just kind of hit me out of the blue so here yall go! Reader and Poe grew up together until he left to join the Air Force.

Warnings: Uh, some swearing?

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Female Reader

Word Count: 1499

Tag List: @criminal-cookies @himbopoes @writingforhoursonend @thegirlwiththebook

Growing up best friends with Poe Dameron had been the best and worst parts of your life. The day your family moved in, a little boy only a year older than you had run up the driveway and begged you to play with him. From then on, the two of you had been inseparable. Until he graduated high school and joined the Air Force, leaving you and your small town in his rearview. It had broken your heart, but you had smiled and been happy for him. Truth was, at some point in your teens you had fallen head over heels and as much as you wanted him, you would never forgive yourself for holding him back. So, you let him leave and the two of you kept in contact as best as possible. Every time he came back to visit, you hoped this would be the time you would gather the courage to tell him how hopelessly in love with him you were. Every time, you couldn’t do it. If all you had with him was weeks, sometimes days, then you didn’t want to ruin it by telling him the truth. You didn’t think you could handle the heartbreak of him turning you down.

So, you shoved your feelings down in favor of his friendship. You never did move out of your hometown, choosing instead to stay close by, even when your parents chose to move away. You wrote books for a living, doing so under a pen name, to keep your privacy. When you were bored, you moonlighted as a bartender at one of the local bars. You knew the owners and they had no problem letting you come and go.

You visited Poe’s father, Kes, when you could. He always told you that he wanted you as a daughter, if only his son could pull his head out of the skies long enough to see what had been in front of him the whole time. These talks always made you laugh and blush, brushing off the man’s comments with fondness. He knew your feelings for his son and while he swore that Poe felt the same way, you never let it get your hopes up. You often spent holidays with the man, the two of you on your own more often than not.

When you heard that Poe was getting out of the Air Force after only 12 years in, you were surprised. You had always assumed Poe would stay in until he retired but Kes said that he had become disillusioned with his work. You didn’t press further, knowing Poe would tell you if he wanted you to know. He had been uncharacteristically silent to you lately and you were just glad to hear that he was okay. You weren’t sure why the sudden radio silence but Kes assured you that everything was alright. You had no choice but to believe him and just hoped things would change when Poe returned. Kes couldn’t tell you when he would be home, so you resigned yourself to waiting.

Friday nights were always busy. They were karaoke night, and everyone came out to the bar to have a drink and listen to people sing. You were working at the bar one such night when Poe was suddenly leaning on the counter across from you. You jumped at his sudden presence and nearly dropped a full bottle. His little smirk at your reaction brought a blush to your cheeks, and you wagged your finger at him in mock outrage.

“Dameron!!! You know better than to scare me like! Honestly!” You were too giddy to actually be angry with him and he knew it. His smirk grew to a grin and he was reaching over the bar top to hug you. You hugged him back, squeezing tightly and just taking in his scent.

“I missed you too, ya scaredy cat.” You swatted his shoulder as he pulled away, him laughing at you the whole time. You stepped away from him long enough to finish making and deliver the drink you had been working on before coming back to drop a beer in front of him. His smile was still in place and he took the drink with a cheerful thanks. You took a moment to look him over as he took a swig from his drink, forcing yourself not to sigh in admiration. His shirt looked like it was painted on with how well it fit him. It was hunter green and went well with the black cargos he had on. You could just barely see the chain of his dog tags around his neck before they disappeared beneath his shirt. His hair was cut in a low fade and it looked absolutely gorgeous on him. It was hard to remember that you were ever annoyed at him for not talking to you. He was too pretty for his own good and the man knew it. When you let your gaze roam back to his face, you found him watching you as well. You shook your head slightly at him but before you could say anything else to him, you were being called by a customer.

You spent the next couple of hours bouncing between Poe and the other customers until Sheryl, one of the owners, shooed you off to spend time with the man. You gave her a sheepish smile but told Poe you would be right back. You slipped into the break room and grabbed your purse before coming back to the bar, only to see Poe gone. You frowned, wondering if he had really just left you like that when you heard the announcer call his name to come up to sing. Your brows furrowed as you watched him approach the stage with ease, taking the microphone from the announcer. The room cheered him on and welcomed him back, causing him to laugh sheepishly into the mic.

“Hey, everyone, thanks so much. It’s good to be back.” He settled himself onto the stool that was on the stage and you found yourself settling down into the chair he had vacated. You were incredibly surprised when he picked up the acoustic guitar that usually sat on stage as decoration, tuning it expertly. You had no idea what exactly what was going on, but you were getting more and more curious.

“For those who don’t know, I’m actually back for good this time.” There was another round of cheers and he laughed. “Good to know that’s a good thing. So, I’ve been setting this up since I found out when I would be home and some of you have been extremely helpful with that, so thank you. This is a song for a certain woman in my life who I’ve been in love with for as long as I can remember. She’s been there for me through every up and down and I couldn’t have asked for a better friend… but now, I’m hoping to make her something more.”

His gaze zeroed in on you and you felt your heart stop before it started hammering in your chest. You felt your hands rise to cover your mouth, tears gathering in your eyes as he flashed you that dazzling smile you had grown to love.

“Y/N Y/L/N, this is Never Had and this for you.” He easily began strumming at the guitar and you did your best not to start sobbing right there. You knew the song and he knew you loved it.

I've been gone for so long now

Chasing everything that's new.

I've forgotten how I got here

I've not forgotten you.

We were just children, with our eyes opened, and

You were all that I could see

You came close enough to know my heart-beat, but

Still not close enough for me.

Fuck, you were totally crying now. When he finished the song, the entire place got to their feet and applauded him. There were calls of Go get your girl, Dameron! and About DAMN time!! He set the guitar back in its usual place and paced straight to you, gathering you up in his arms and kissing you deeply. You returned it easily, much to the enthusiasm of the rest of the room. The two of you were laughing as you pulled apart, Poe reaching up to wipe away your tears.

“Damnit Dameron, you always have to make me cry.” You told him, no real malice in your voice. He laughed and just held you close to him.

“Sorry, sweetheart. How about I spend forever making it up to you?” That smooth bastard. You couldn’t help the smile that rose at his words and you nodded in agreement. He picked you up, spinning you around and laughing. You laughed right along with him; your arms wrapped tight around his shoulders.

Maybe he had made you wait for him but you would gladly do it all again if it meant spending the rest of your lives together.

#poe dameron imagine #air force poe dameron #poe dameron au #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x female reader #poe x reader #poe x female reader #fluff

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munstarr · 4 years

Text

The Guardian

Hello everyone!! I just edited this again and decided to re upload because I wasn't happy with it originally and I wanted to write something id love, now I can say I am super happy with the outcome!! This will be a slow burn, eventually nsfw! Currently working on the next part! Id love and appreciate some feedback! Please feel free to DM me! Thank you so much for reading!!! ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥

A little over eighty years ago Earth scientists sent out a signal into space in an attempt to make contact with other beings. In a surprising turn of events an alien alliance ship happened to be passing by, how had they missed earth before? Well the milky way was merely a skid mark compared to the rest of space. After months of back and forth between the alliance and Earth. Many planets had decided to make contact with earth with wonderful intentions and were more than willing to share their technological developments. In exchange most species requested to study human life and their history. After many trials and errors the Earth officially joined the planetary alliance. Together they worked out many systems and programs to mix species and learn from each other, Thus our current story begins!

Planet Yalnak was an unearthly forest filled planet with cool days and a deep purple sky. The program they had implemented was different from others in the Alliance. Humans could only sign up to live on Yalnak to be of service to the home species, the Nuks or to study a trade. Yalnak was one of the more stubborn planets who were hesitant, after learning of Earth’s hatred they were the last from the alliance to make contact. It wasn't until learning and witnessing of Human’s surprising endurance and loyalty that they joined and formed an earth acceptance program.

On Earth, Azura flipped through all the different planetary Alliance program brochures.She had been working as a hospitality and business specialist. Working towards her degree and getting to her dream job in less than three years time. After chasing her career goals she thought she would be happier. Another busy day of working had her coming home drained for what felt like the millionth time. She sure could use a change she thought. Sighing deeply she placed the brochures on the coffee table in front of her. ‘’Pfft’’ She blew a piece of coily raven hair out of her face, Maybe a hot bubble bath would ease her stress instead. Azura drew herself a relaxing milk bath, filling it with different oils; after setting out lots of candles she slipped into the hot soapy water. She sank into the tub closing her eyes, these were the only times she felt that she could truly relax. Her big bundle of raven curls spilled out of her clawfoot tub. Rubbing her rich mahogany body with her creamy bath butter, she whimpered. Her lathered up pink loofah traveled all over her , leaving a trail of bubbles all over her curvy body. It had been a long time since she’d had any sort of real pleasure. Not that she felt she wasn’t attractive, at twenty - four she was a small chocolate woman with a lean body and a bosomy frame ,or so she had thought. It had been a long while since she had been with anyone, let alone on an actual date. She sunk deeper into the warm bubbles as she roamed her body with the loofah, slowly caressing with the soft fabric. With closed fluttering eyes she imagined the type of person she fantasized to be with her. He was strong and tender as he gripped her throat tightly squeezing as he circled her clit with his strong roughened fingers. He caressed her hot button as her head fell back against his solid chest, nibbling her bottom lip as she let out a muffled moan. Azura imagined such a thing could happen to her. She’d gone through college as a studious maverick, putting her grades above all else. She was paying for it now she felt, getting nicely along in her career but feeling very lonely at times. She had been getting a degree in helping others have fun essentially, without ever really having any herself. Without even having any close family or even friends she was starting to feel more alone than ever. “UGH” she grumbled aloud, splashing her hand against the water and huffing in frustration. Now she couldn’t even relax with herself! Of course, only she could make herself sad in the middle of a fantasy. She pouted and decided to drain the bath and cut her losses. After drying off and oiling herself up for bed, she slipped on a satin red slip with a lace peekaboo. Another night of eating dinner alone to the sound of terrible reality tv, after two episodes of bad reality she clicked it off deciding it was time for bed. On her way out of the living room she decided to toss her brochures into the recycling, none of the programs were right for her anyway she thought. Huffing she tossed them into the bin. One dark colored brochure had fallen out, she hadn’t noticed it before. It said very plainly in black letters on the outside the word “YALNAK” . Azura had heard of this planet, it had accepted the least amount of humans into their program, only posting new ads when they had specific positions open. She picked it up reading the first and only page which had ads for tradesmen to study and helper companions. Azura thought being a helper could be interesting but didn’t want to waste her time being a glorified errand girl. Every ad was submitted by individuals of the planet it seemed. There was an entry that caught her eye and was offering triple the pay! The only downside was that she had to submit qualifications and pass an assessment, she’d never been great at taking tests she thought. The description was vague but seemed to offer interesting benefits and career opportunities. Her interest was piqued of course, so she decided to give in and opened her telepad to do the application, what's she got to lose? After uploading her resume and completing the exam online she uploaded both to her telepad. This could be a long shot but she was ready for a new adventure, besides being a helper companion couldn’t be so bad. She decided to send an introduction to the ad placer to tell them about herself and to say how she could be right for the job and how she was ready for a change, whatever it was. Maybe it sounded desperate? No, she shook off that silly anxious thought and hit submit. After sending she smiled to herself and decided to go to bed, excited about new possibilities. A few days later Azura decided to check the ad to see the status of the position , since she hadn’t heard anything back yet. Checking her telepad she frowned, it said in bold red letters “FULFILLED”. She was disappointed but she knew it was a gamble to begin with and probably not even worth her time. Shaking off her unexpected disappointment she went on a run to clear her mind and think about her future. Her big coily space buns bounced on top of her head as she ran, her rich skin shining in the sunlight. After a few times around the block she was tired and decided to walk the rest of the way home to enjoy the cool breeze. Approaching her apartment door she noticed her mail had been delivered. She had received a large metal box and a thick black envelope place on top. Taking the huge box into her house she carefully sat it on her coffee table. “What the hell..” she whispered to herself. She sliced open the letter and it read “ Congratulations Azura Elaine Emem from Earth, You have been chosen to be a helper companion for the honorable guardian Mirin”. She reread the letter in confusion, she was great at what she did but she wasn’t sure how she could be of any assistance to some honorable guardian! The letter continued “Please read the inclosed packets for further briefing on your new assignment”. Azura opened the box to find it contained brief information about the planet, it’s customs, and a request form for Earth foods she’d want while there, and last but not least a black square and a note. Azura picked up and inspected the intricate wax seal before carefully peeling it off and carefully unfolding the letter. In beautiful writing it stated simply ‘Dear Ms.Emem, I wanted to personally contact you because I am looking forward to working with you and want to set you up for success. Inside the black holding bonds I have included your uniform for the beginning days of training along with my crest, please wear this on your right side of your garment.’ With a short goodbye it concluded. Azura was stunned, she wanted a new life but wasn't expecting it to actually happen. She felt a new fire ignite inside of her, she was nervous for a new life but excited nonetheless. With a slurp of her melting iced coffee Azura smiled, wondering what sort of life she had signed herself up for.

#exophilia #my writing #munstarr #oc #slow burn #monster boyfriend #Intergalactic #Original Work #poc fic

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moonb-eam · 5 years

Note

35 & 1? (thirsty bitch right here)

lmao Thirsty Anon in the houuuse

(i combined both of these into one story and somehow that translated into me writing 1.8k of the SHMOOPIEST dirty talk, if you can even call it that??? i...have nothing to say for myself but anon, i may have failed you)

(eeeek i hope you still like it)

no. 1 “Come over here and make me.” & no. 35 “You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

Eliott’s just sat down on the bus when his phone buzzes.

hey, are you on your way home?

He feels himself smile at the sight of Lucas’s name, just a little bit, just a small one, but it’s more than he’s done all day. The evening rush was brutal at the restaurant tonight, with dropped plates and rude customers and the head chef having a meltdown inside the walk-in freezer. Eliott lost count of how many times he’d had to grit his teeth, bite back a snappy retort, and instead say, of course, sir, I’ll have them remake it, or no, that wasn’t a plate I dropped but yes, I can go get the broom and clean it up.

By the time Eliott left, his shoulders were so tight, his face so stony, he was sure he would crack from the faintest hint of pressure.

But he sits on the bus, he sees a text from Lucas, and he can feel himself unclench the tiniest bit.

yeah, he texts back, work was beyond shitty. i’m fucking exhausted.

He immediately gets a reply.

oh fuck i’m sorry

Then another.

do you need anything? I can make you some good for when you get here?

fuck

food**

Eliott is smiling down at his phone like a fool but Lucas is just. He’s so sweet. He’s always so good to Eliott, always taking care of him.

But he doesn’t need dinner, he ate during his break, and anyway he only wants—

just need you.

He sends it off without even thinking about it, because he means it. The whole time he was at work, whenever something shitty happened, whenever a customer made a snide remark or his manager said something condescending, he thought about Lucas, thought about how in four hours, three hours, two hours, one hour, now, he will be able to go over to Lucas’s. He will be able to see Lucas again, to touch him and hold him.

He’d gotten lost in a memory while he was rolling cutlery sets; of how Lucas had looked that morning, drenched in sunlight with Eliott’s sheets tangled around his legs; of how warm he’d been, how sweet he’d tasted when Eliott had kissed him; of how breathy his moans had been when Eliott had mouthed his way down Lucas’s stomach.

His coworker had to call his name three times before he heard her.

It’s all he can ever think about, lately.

He can be at work, in class, walking downtown, sitting on the bus, but no matter what he’s always there at the back of Eliott’s mind. His favourite daydream. Lucas.

His phone buzzes.

oh yeah?

That’s…

Eliott shifts in his seat, licks his lips.

yeah. so badly, babe.

It takes a while for Lucas to respond, and while Eliott is waiting the bus stops and two teenage girls get on, sitting across the aisle from him at the back. Eliott has the sudden urge to conceal his phone, as if they could possibly read his texts from over there.

Then, finally, there’s a reply.

i guess you should get home fast, then

And there’s a photo attached, and Eliott slams his screen down into his leg before his brain even fully registers it. He sits there like that, phone face-down, not breathing, until he feels it buzz again. He slowly turns it over.

was that too much? i’ve never done that before

is it weird to send pictures like that?

eliott?

Eliott doesn’t respond because opening up the newest messages meant opening up the photo, which means Eliott is now staring, open-mouthed at Lucas, standing in front of the mirror in his room, wearing a button-up shirt Eliott left behind a few days ago.

The shirt hangs loosely on Eliott so it’s massive on Lucas, covering the tops of his thighs, sleeves falling over his hands.

And Eliott can’t be totally sure, but it looks like Lucas isn’t wearing anything under it.

“Fuck,” Eliott whispers to himself, leaning back in his seat. “Oh fuck.”

He is not getting hard on the bus. He is absolutely not doing that. There are people around.

The bus suddenly feels to small, the ride too long, the distance to Lucas too far to even comprehend. There’s a desperate, restless energy coursing through Eliott, a mix of over exhaustion and horniness and anticipation. It comes out of his fingertips, restlessly drumming against the seat in front of him, on the tops of his knees, against the back of his phone.

He almost misses his stop with how distracted he is, with how he keeps thinking about the picture on his phone but not opening up his phone and instead staring straight ahead and tap, tap, tapping his fingers.

He presses the Stop button and shoots up from his seat, ignoring the looks the two girls send his way.

Eliott practically sprints from the bus stop to Lucas’s place, nearly loses it from how long the elevator ride feels, bouncing on his toes on the spot.

Lucas’s door in unlocked, and that’s good, that’s perfect, because Eliott is bursting through it, and the first thing he sees when he enters the apartment is Lucas, coming out of the living room carrying an empty mug and his phone.

His hair is mussed, he’s barefoot, and he’s wearing the shirt.

“Oh.” Lucas’s eyes are wide as he takes in Eliott, standing in his doorway. “Hi.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eliott breathes.

Lucas blinks. He looks down at himself. “Uh, yeah, I don’t know why I sent that, I woke up from a nap and I found this shirt and I dunno…I was feeling a bit…well, whatever, that’s why I usually don’t try to…” His voice trails off into an awkward cough as he looks up, and Eliott can see his blush even from how far away he is.

Lucas turns, starts heading into the kitchen, and Eliott trails after him.

“Lucas,” he says, and there must be something in his voice, something that makes Lucas look up from where he’s put the mug down into the sink.

When he doesn’t say anything, Lucas prompts, a bit testily, “What?”

“You…” Eliott lets his eyes roam, indulgent, from the top of Lucas’s head all the way down to his toes. “You have no idea,” he says, and it feels right because he doesn’t think Lucas does. Lucas has no idea what he does to Eliott, how much he affects him. He has no idea how lucky Eliott is, how grateful Eliott is that, somehow, the universe decided that he could have this.

Lucas’s head is tilted, considering. The kitchen is dark, and his eyes are deep pools of blue-black. “Did you…did you like it?”

“Lucas. I almost got hard on the bus,” Eliott says, pained, and Lucas tilts his head back to giggle.

“Well. Okay,” Lucas says, noticeably pleased, the blush back in full force on his cheeks.

And suddenly, Eliott needs to touch him. Needs to touch him.

“You can send me a picture like that whenever you want, Lucas. Literally whenever you want, and I have to tell you, you look so fucking good in that shirt, but I also have to tell you I need you to take it off right now.”

Lucas balks. “What?”

“I’m serious. I need you naked like, right now.”

Lucas lets out a surprised bark of a laugh. His eyes are teasing when he slowly drags his fingers down the buttons of the shirt. “Is that so? If I had known you would get this riled up, I would have—”

“You heard me.” Eliott’s voice is quiet but stern, even to his own ears. He can see the way it makes Lucas’s mouth drop open. “Take it off.”

Lucas freezes for a moment, but then his mouth snaps shut, and he plants his hands on the counter behind him, eyes challenging. His voice is all sunshine-tinted teasing and moonlit tremors when he says, “Come over here and make me.”

Eliott’s feet carry him over before he even realizes he’s moving, hands flexing at his sides with the closing distance, with the promise of, I’m going to feel him, now, now,

Now.

Eliott’s hands are sliding around Lucas’s waist, to the small of his back, bunching up the soft material of the shirt with the motion. It feels so good on Lucas, and Eliott already knows he won’t be able to wear this shirt anymore, will probably be rendered useless by the feeling of the material against his own skin.

Lucas is standing on his toes, eyes closed and ready for a kiss, and Eliott doesn’t even think about denying him.

It’s slow and deep, both of them sighing into it, Lucas moving his hands from the counter to grip tightly onto Eliott’s waist. It’s overwhelming, so easy to get lost in, and Eliott pulls back to take a breath, to get his bearings, but he stays close, close enough that their mouths are still brushing together when Eliott starts to unbutton the shirt.

“You are…so…fucking…beautiful.” Eliott murmurs, each word punctuated by another button opening. Lucas exhales shakily against Eliott’s chin. “I can’t believe you’re mine,” Eliott continues, hands moving slowly downwards. “Can’t believe I get to have you like this.”

“Christ,” Lucas whispers. “Eliott, you—”

“I love you,” Eliott says, finally reaching the bottom of the shirt, opening the last button and then running his hands up Lucas’s soft skin, catching on the waistband of the briefs he’s wearing under it.

Lucas is panting now, small gasps of warm breath Eliott can almost taste. I love you too, Lucas mouths back, and Eliott is leaning down for another kiss, Lucas’s lips just parting under his, when Lucas disappears from his arms.

Eliott stands there, blinking stupidly at the space that was previously occupied by a boy with soft skin and soft lips and soft hair and now is nothing more than cold air between his fingers.

“What…” He says dumbly, turning to see Lucas backing into the hallway. The shirt is slipping off of Lucas’s left shoulder, fanning out around his thighs and his eyes are hooded and his smile is wicked and he really is a dream. Lucas is the best dream Eliott’s ever had.

“I don’t know about you,” Lucas is saying, still taking slow backwards steps, “but I’m going to my bedroom.” Eliott’s face must look lost, because Lucas laughs. “You can come too, if you want.”

If he wants. Eliott takes three long strides forward, and bends at the waist, wrapping his arms around Lucas’s knees, and in one smooth motion tipping him over his shoulder as he stands, picking Lucas up off of the ground.

Lucas shrieks out an “Eliott!” but he’s also laughing and Eliott is laughing and they disappear into Lucas’s bedroom like that, a mess of laughter and indignant yelling and flailing limbs.

The door slams behind them, but all of the kinetic energy in the apartment, charged and alive, lingers, the blue of the night sky turning electric, the very shadows stretching across the kitchen floor seeming to dance.

(This is what dreams do.)

#Thirsty Anon #i hope you’re cool with that name asdfjk #and i hope you like this!!!!#prompts #elu fic #fic tag #i never set out to write something ~sexy~ so this was a challenge lmao

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heonyhobi · 5 years

Text

Gorgeous

Shownu x Reader

Fluff, Light Smut

Sohn Hyunwoo. What a jerk. He seemed to get under my skin every time I saw that stupid sparkling smile. It made me huff in frustration and caused my hands to shake from nervousness. It was terrible; he was terrible. But it had nothing to do with how terrible he was; it instead had everything to do with how frustratingly perfect he was. From his honeyed skin that glowed with every simple smile, to his ridiculously built body that looked as if it was chiseled from marble, and his beautifully charming personality, he seemed perfect from the inside out. He was the type of guy that held the door for me every morning, helped me with heavy boxes whenever stock arrived, brought me my favorite coffee and snacks when we were particularly busy, and even drove me home when my car was in the shop. He was an amazingly generous friend, and I have no right to desire more, but how much more of a generous lover would he be? I laid my forehead on the breakroom desk and groaned loudly. Of course, I had to be head over heels for a coworker.

Hyunwoo and I had been working in together in the same shopping mall for the last 4 months. He worked at a Nike outlet, and I at the American Eagle outlet directly across. We first met when on break in the cafeteria, and in those short 30 minutes, I simultaneously gained a best friend and the biggest crush I’ve had since high school. He could never know though, I wouldn’t want to mess up the relaxing relationship we have now. And besides, he has customers and coworkers alike fawning over his masculine features all day, who he gently lets down, on more than one occasion. I’m not overly excited to join that (long) list of names. Even though he was so-

My alarm went off, signaling for me to clock back in. I headed back and prepped myself for the onslaught of frazzled, angry customers this evening. It was the holiday season, and that meant lots of people in my store. Too many. I wish they would just go home. Hyunwoo and I frequently ranted after these frustrating shifts. Hurling the insults and comments we couldn’t say to customer’s faces towards each other a little too loudly in the deserted parking lot. White puffs of air and phone flashlights illuminating the dark throughout our destressing.

I glanced up in between customers, eyes skimming through the huddles of bodies walking down the halls, until I met Hyunwoo’s. His customer was pointing and waving her arms frantically, she was angry about something. He reached up and ruffled his short hair before tapping the shell of his ear twice. I smiled at the sign of our secret language. One we devised after too many training hours on register. I could expect a fun vent session with my friend later.

After my next customer left, with what must have been 15 bags on her arms, our eyes met again, and I scratched my head before applying chaptstick. Oh yeah, the heavens could expect an earful tonight.

About 20 minutes before the end of my shift, after the store closed, I entered the back to double check before I closed shop. My eyes lit up with excitement as I noticed the overabundance of cardboard boxes with WINTER 2 printed across the side. The January clothes were in, and I would be damned if I didn’t test any of the new styles out. Shutting the lights could wait 15 more minutes.

Giggling, I rooted through the folded articles, finding the fits I wanted to try on the most, and headed to the changing rooms. I locked the door behind me out of habit and slipped on the first piece: a super soft oversized sweater.

I went through a few more shirts, about 6 pairs of pants, and 3 sets of the Aerie lingerie before I was satisfied. The last thing I had slipped on was a short, silky soft pink nightdress. It was lowcut v, with white lace brimming the top and covering the cutouts on the sides. Starting from the bottom and running all the way to the seam, snowy lace left little to the imagination. It was the cutest thing ever; I had to have it. I rummaged around the clothes strewn across the seat, searching for my phone to ask my manager about preordering, but my fingers grazed nothing but cloth. I remembered I had left it in the breakroom and turned to scamper through the empty store to retrieve it, but the stall door wouldn’t budge.

No, no, no. This was not happening. I jiggled the handle around a little, as if that would help, but the stupid door wasn’t moving. And it just so happened that this outlet had been fitted with decent doors that were flush against the floor, only space provided was at the top. I contemplated the thought of climbing over the top when a familiar voice echoed outside.

“(Y/N)? Where are you? I’ve been waiting for 20 minutes. You better not be working late again.”

It was Hyunwoo. Thank God. “Hey! I’m over here!” I yelled through the door.

His footsteps padded dully across the floor, until they stopped right next to my dressing room. “What are you doing?”

“Well, I, uh,” I started, embarrassment rising up my cheeks and ears, “I’m stuck.”

Hyunwoo chuckled. “Are you really?”

“Yes! Can you please get me out?” I huffed, growing impatient.

“Yeah, just uh, do me a favor and step away from the door.”

I did as he asked. “Ok, I’m out of the way.”

He wasted no time, the door whipped open violently as the now broken lock bounced against the full-length mirror on the wall and onto the floor.

“Well that’s one way to do it.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him in for a thank-you hug. I nearly squealed as his warm hands held my back against him, his big arms made me feel so safe. I had been held by them countless times now, but they never failed to send my heart racing. “Thank you so much Hyunwoo.”

“You’re welcome.” He let go and gazed at me quizzically, and I thought I noticed a light dusting of pink on his round cheeks. “What are you wearing?”

“Oh, well I saw the WINTER 2 stock and wanted to try some pieces on. What do you think?” I asked, a sing-song quality lifting my voice subtly. I spun for him, feeling his eyes roam across the pastel, lacy silk, it raised up slightly, showing more of my thighs, if that was possible from how short the dress was on its own.

He gulped almost nervously, the dusting across his face deepening into a thick blanket of red. “You’re beautiful.”

I looked up at him, confusion pulling my eyebrows together, surprise widening my eyes.

It was his turn then for his eyes to grow at the realization of what he just commented. Whites doubling in size for a split second. “It is. It’s beautiful.”

I studied him intently. Did I hear him right? He just called me beautiful, didn’t he? The space between us grew awkwardly heavy, soft huffs of shallow breaths the only sound decorating the empty store. Should I address the elephant in the room?

“Y-you think I’m beautiful?” I stutter out, hope igniting in my chest.

Hyunwoo shifted his eyes from their spot on the floor to mine. He was reading my concerned expression, his features twisting into its own bewilderment, like he was wondering how I didn’t get it yet. His fingers rubbed the outside of my exposed arm. Starting at the edge of my shoulder, running all the way down to the jut of my elbow and back up again in comforting ovals. “Baby, you’re gorgeous.”

Bright warmth swept over me, spreading across my cheeks, ears, neck and shoulders. Oh shit.

His hand returns it upward ascent, this time going past my shoulder, floating across my collarbone, until his deft fingertips tilted my jaw upwards. He brought his face closer, lips ghosting teasingly over mine, short, anticipating breaths fanning my face softly. I waited for him to close the space between us, before I realized that he was waiting for me to do the same, waiting for my permission.

I lifted myself onto my tip toes, and kissed him sweetly, gently, softly, almost like I was afraid to do so. But as soon as I began to pull away, he entangled his fingers in my hair, gripping it with suppressed desperation. His kiss was rougher, needier, like he had been wanting to do this for a long time now. His opposite hand tugged my waist firmly, pulling me entirely into himself as he deepened the kiss, tongue dipping gently into the warmth of my mouth. A light moan escaped my throat as he pulled away slowly, and his rosy, wet lips formed into a smirk at my reaction.

“Wow.” Was all I could say. No other thoughts came up clear amidst the dizziness in my head, the tingling on my lips, and the fluttering of my heartbeat.

His smirk grew into a prideful smile, bottom lip catching between teeth. “You liked that?”

I simply nodded, too dazed to focus.

“I’ve actually been wanting to do that for a while now.” He admitted, arms keeping me held tight against his toned body. His wandering eyes drifted downwards, followed by a plump pair of lips attached to my neck. “And this.”

He gently sucked my sensitive skin, teeth grazing lightly, causing me to whimper into his ear. He growled lowly in response.

“Me too.” I managed to breathe out.

“Then do you want to continue this at my place?”

“Yes.”

“Will you be wearing this?” He questioned, tugging playfully at the lowest part of the v, exposing my chest to his leisure.

“I have to buy it first, Hyunwoo.” I reminded him, wiggling out of his embrace. I reached for my clothes underneath the messy pile on the seat.

“So, you’ll be wearing nothing then?” He asked with a cocky tone.

“I suppose so.” I smiled, changing out of the night dress teasingly.

He bit his lip again, burning gaze following my every movement. “Then let’s hurry.”

“So impatient.” I teased.

I put my uniform back on and returned the new stock to their respectful boxes.

Hitting the lights on my way out we walked, or rather ran, back to his car, giggling throughout the mall halls like foolish teenagers. We could hardly keep our hands and mouths off of each other the entire way back, stumbling carelessly into his apartment, I don’t even think we made it to the bedroom before items of clothing dropped to the floor, one by one.

#shownu #shownu x reader #sohn hyunwoo #hyunwoo x reader #monsta x #monsta x x reader #fluff #light smut #works

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alitheamateur · 5 years

Text

Birthday Boy Bob

This one is for my dear friend, @torialeysha who requested some smutty Bob Saginowski action. (Who could blame her?) This guy, this guy, this guy. Let me tell ya’! Bobby boy here, has by far been my toughest encounter! I hope it’s up to your standards, you genius!

Characters: Bob Saginowski/Reader

Warnings: NSFW. Explicit Sexual Content. Language. A bit of angst. A touch of fluff.

Word Count: 4,742

“You really did not have to do alla this, Y/N. But, I truly appreciate it.”

“You deserve some fun, Bobby boy. So, you can thank me by having a drink. Or ten.” You winked, bopping the end of his nose with your fingertip.

Bob Saginowski had been your boss for going on two years now. You, being the barmaid at his local treasure in the heart of Brooklyn, had developed quite the mysterious relationship with him. There was no figuring Bob out, though. He was an impossible enigma that Sherlock himself couldn’t crack open with his most impressive skills, so there was no way you’d get him down pat. He was frustratingly literal, unobvious with his dangerous intelligence, and the holy grail of secrets. But as of late, your subtle glances had been reciprocated, and his claiming accidental skims of your skin when he’d squeeze close to you behind the bar were becoming much more recurrent.

He worked himself day and night, and you wondered concerningly if he ever even slept at night. He had paid his debts, and was now sole owner of “Bob’s Bar” which lengthened his daily ‘to-do’ list, that also consisted of tending to his loyal companion, Rocco. In your eyes, he deserved a hefty dose of fun and unwinding (as much as a person like Bob could unwind), and his 37th birthday opened the door to help you make that very goal achievable. So, your plan was set into action, and had unfolded without a hitch. So you thought, at least…

“Cheers, ol’ boy! This ones for you, Bob!” One of the most frequent stool warmers at the bar stuttered between drunken hiccups, raising up the third tequila past his limit.

The usual present pondering lines of Bob’s forehead seemed even more troubled suddenly, as the two of you stood chatting behind the bar top. You tossed your ashy blonde hair over your shoulder to turn and investigate the ringing bell that notified an entry. The eyes you looked into made you instantly squeamish, and all hopeful opportunities you’d envisioned ensuing with the object of your secret affections fizzled out. Nadia, the only ex you were ever aware of from Bob’s relationship endeavors, just had to show her unwelcomed face tonight, of all nights.

“Hey, birthday boy!” She screeched, waving the deflating ‘happy birthday’ balloon she had tied to her finger.

Nadia had tossed him into the trash, leaving him in the condition much like he had found Rocco inside her trash can a few years ago. No rhyme, or reason behind her flighty exit had been heard on the streets, and she hadn’t been seen since last fall. Her unexplained bow out had granted you a job, and a confused and wounded Bob to look after, so you were thankful in all honesty for her disappearance. It was her reappearance however, that had you squirming and insecure.

“Uhh, yeah. Hel… Hi, Nadia,” Bob apprehensively greeted the ghost of his past, and leaned on the chipping wood of the counter to steady his shaken balance. “Where um.. where you been?”

The subdued tenor of his answer angered you to dangerous heights, and your conscious nagged you to spit venomous curses and toss her out on her smug ass since Bob obviously didn’t have the stomach to do it himself. But, it wasn’t your place to do so, and if you were being truthful, you saw her unforeseen return as a chance to decipher whether Bob was truly over what they had shared.

“You know, just here and there.”

Here and there?! That’s all she had for him? The utterly heartless and ignorance of her explanation had your head swimming, and your spiteful tongue could no longer be controlled.

“Bob! Let’s open your gifts, okay? Rocco keeps sniffing the bags in the corner. He’s trying to hurry you up!”

You couldn’t stand idly and twiddle your anxious fingers as she entranced him deeper into her silky web of manipulation and pitiful lies.

You brashly grabbed his hand into yours, and the heavy clogging of his worn boots echoed behind you careful not to stomp on a following Rocco yipping at your feet. Nadia cornered herself in a booth near the cake you had bought with your own earnings, and you smiled despicably to yourself when none of the party guests fawned over her homecoming. These were your customers as much as Bobs’, and they had whispered teasing remarks about seeing how the two of you were always blushing and flirting as you danced around each other behind the bar on a hectic night of business. Nadia’s departure had granted her top rank on the blacklist, and the attendees of Bob’s Bar had made their stance obvious.

You held the growing pup in your arms, and smiled admiringly at the gawky excitements Bob attempted to show to his company. A party full of guests, all in one room to celebrate and dote over Bob was probably the closest thing to a nightmare in real time for him, and you began to wonder if the whole gesture was a colossal, incurable mistake. But, the quirky, barely perceptible half-smiles he snuck between gifts warmed you with reassurance. When he lifted the last perfectly creased corners of a package, tucked purposely by you behind all the others, he looked instantly to you when it was missing the gift-tag he examined it for.

“That one’s from Rocco and me. He even wrapped it himself.” Bobs’ endearing, single wonky tooth appeared suddenly, as your playful, pitiful excuse for a joke made him almost audibly laugh. It could’ve been construed as honest laughter, or a result of the flow of alcohol you’d insisted he intake, and let loose.

The protruding line of a vein tensed and shifted in his forearm from beneath the rolled sleeves of his flannel as he tore the paper casually in front of the room. It was a photo taken on New Year’s Eve night at the bar several months ago that you had printed from your phone, of the pair of you decked in stupid ‘happy new year’ sequined tiaras, and silly Rocco smooshed between your heads with his panting tongue hanging out. That particular night had been the nearest Bob had come to finally biting the bullet and kissing you when the new year struck on the clock. You giggled recollecting how all eyes in the room immediately shifted to the two of you when the ball dropped to see if either of you would make the much-anticipated move. When his lips never moved, you instead settled on pecking him lingeringly to his scruffy cheek.

“Look at that. That’s real nice! Thank you, really. Rocco, you too, buddy. But, I think imma give Y/N all the credit. No hard feelings.”

“You’re welco-“

“Oh my God, do you remember our first New Year’s Eve with Rocco?! He was snoring under the bar all night, then when everyone yelled at midnight, he got so scared and nearly jumped up your leg, Bob.”

Apparently, your particular birthday gift to the man in question had struck the attention of one unwelcome, obnoxious party guest who just had to jump in rudely with her pointless two-cents. You weren’t born yesterday, and neither was the interrupting ex-girlfriend of his who could see the flirtatious manner bouncing back and forth between yourself, and the man Nadia had clearly come back into town for.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do rememba that. He uh, he still ain’t a fan of real loud noises either. You know, like sirens and stuff.”

Bob swiveled in his chair to actually civilly converse with her, literally and figuratively turning his back on you. Maybe friends would be a line never crossed between you and Bob Saginowski as long as Nadia’s chilly presence loomed close by. But besides the hopes of a relationship between the two of you squandered, you feared your position as bartender would be dismissed as well if she swindled her way back into his life, and his bed successfully.

You turned the pup loose from your arms to roam the room, and drug your feet back behind the counter to refill drinks, and maybe sneak a swig or two of your own liquid courage. Closing time and last call would be arriving shortly, so you combed your hair back into a high ponytail, and pulled off your olive-green utility jacket to prepare for clean-up. No one had cut that cake, but since Nadia wanted to be the center of attention tonight, she could handle it. You were checked out, and ready to crash into bed with too many glasses of wine.

As you reached for the damp rag to wipe the counter of sticky remnants of spilled drinks, Johnny, a devoted customer and a bit of a watchful eye over the place if Bob ever had to leave you to handle things so he could run errands, snapped you from your thoughts.

“Hey, don’t chu throw in the towel. Alla us are countin’ on you to keep Bobby boy away from that little she-devil.” He whispered and nodded his head in the direction of the female snake petting on Rocco after rattling the ice cubes in his empty tumbler of bourbon.

“Seems no one can replace her, John. You saw it! It’s like I just left the room once she started to talk to him. They have history, I guess. I can’t compete. And I won’t either.”

“Nobody said it was a competition, Y/N. But, this is Brooklyn, honey. You gotta fight for whatcha want sometimes.”

………………..

“Alright, alright! Take the cake and get out of here, you goon!” You kindly teased with the last guest who wouldn’t take the order of leaving until you sent him home with the last two slices of the chocolate cake.

Rocco was snoozing under the pool table, avoiding the drunk hugs, and repetitive loop of a horrendous ‘happy birthday’ song being sung as the party goers lined out the door to head home for the evening. Bob ushered them out one by one, calling cabs for the few who he knew would wind up passing out on the sidewalk before they reached their own doorstep 5 blocks from the bar. It appeared only him, and yourself were left to lock up, and you were building up a bubble of nerve to confront him about Nadia, when you heard the gentle thud of a bathroom door closing down the hall.

She had already showed up like an unannounced gypsy to crash the party you had thrown for him, but that wasn’t enough to suffice. She had hung around, probably listening from the stall of the toilet, to wait for the room to clear so she could have some alone time to seal the deal. Bob looked to her, as did you, as she sheepishly approached the exit. Her ‘poor pitiful me’ charade was far from authentic, and you prayed silently and fervently that silly Bob would see right through her acting.

“I guess I’ll head out then…”

She looked to Bob, who then looked to you, who stared intently at Nadia.

“You could walk me home.. If it’s not too much trouble?”

That was it. The nail in your coffin. When he didn’t deny her instantly, you accepted you’d never hold the title of Bob’s girl, or Rocco’s dog-mom, and Nadia still compelled him beyond any way that you had.

“Go head, Bob. I’ll lock up.” You plastered on a brave, quite unconvincing smile as you rinsed and dried the last few glasses to shelf before you could head out.

“Are you sure? You already done so much tonight, I hate to ask.” Bob’s shifty eyes examined you seeking whether you were truly okay with him leaving you to handle the close up.

“She’s got it, Bob. I’m sure she’s closed alone before, right? It is your birthday, after all.”

Before you even had a second to object, Nadia interjected to make sure you didn’t. She had already awoken Rocco who was yawning and dazed in the cradle of her arms, and all but shoving Bob out into the night air with her. He turned to wave goodbye, and mouthed a ‘thank you’, to which you chose not to acknowledge much. The silence of the room, aside from the humming of the ice machine made you paranoid with confusion, and shame. You assured yourself that you had taken your shot, it just wasn’t meant to be. But, had you really? Was the man completely uninterested in you, or had he just in typical Bob fashion, been too bashful and timid to show you he really did have desirable feelings for you? You couldn’t place all fault on him, when you had done little to reveal how you felt towards him.

The unwavering, worrisome flow of ‘what ifs’ clouding your thoughts had passed the time substantially as you finished off the final items on your closing to-do list. Reaching down to unplug the stringy cord of the last neon sign glowing in the dingy store-front glass, you heard the chattering metal of a door handle being opened. Your body stiffened in paralyzing fright, and you ceased breathing to remain as still, and undetected as possible.

Thankfully, it was the familiar Bob and Rocco who swept inside the now dark shadows of the empty building, missing the third party they had left with short of a half hour ago.

“You scared the hell outta me, Bob!” You cupped your hands over your mouth and the sweaty palms stuck to your lips.

“I’m uh… yeah, sorry ‘bout that. I was gonna call but…”

“What’d you forget? I’m all done here. I was heading out in a sec, actually. Where’s uh… Where’s Nadia?”

Walking towards to the stool to gather up the purse and jacket you had sat there moments ago, you felt a masculine hand fall onto your shoulder.

“I called her a cab…”

Turning yourself in a half circle so you could meet him face to face, and tip-toe into whatever waters the conversation was leading next, you gulped a heavy knot of surprise seeing him remove the scratchy wool-lined vest he always wore when the seasonal temperatures started steadily declining into winter. Your own coat was draped over your wrist, but looking silently into your eyes, Bob removed it. Tossing it, along with your purse, and his own discarded outer-layer back onto the seat you once had placed it.

“I told her not to be comin’ around here again. And that this wasn’t her place anymore.”

Intently, your watchful stares followed him as he shooed Rocco into the storage room he was usually kept on busy nights, next traveling over to the large glass window that looked into the street and easing down the plastic shade. Like a dimmer, it eliminated the entering glow from the luminescent streetlight near your parked car, and only the lit-up handles of the beer taps, and mini-fridge tucked under the stock shelves allowed you minimal vision of Bob’s eerily calm features. Working with him nearly every calendar day for countless months now, you had grown naturally enamored by the anomaly of his disposition. But his calculated steps, sure actions, and silent planning were a far cry from his usually peculiar behavior. Should you be afraid? Leary or standoffish? Probably. But you were only allured, and aroused to say the least.

The lack of conversation made your ears squeal. Should you say something? Shouldn’t he? What’s happening here? A plethora of scenarios all played out one-by-one in your head, but you were clueless at the thoughts crossing through his. He was the farthest thing from an open-book, and he wasn’t exactly dropping red flags. That is, until he raised one thick finger to brush the line of your glowing, alabaster skin peeking from the hem of your tank top. You closed your eyes, and sharply inhaled between gritted teeth savoring the unmistakable insinuation of his actions now, and the ones to follow.

One by one, each plastic button that fastened your black, plaid flannel was tauntingly opening at the cautious, yet purposeful hands of Bob. He seemed to stare laser beams of tantric desires straight through your pupils, and you couldn’t turn your focus from the slow-growing bulge between his legs.

“Take if off for me, Y/N. I’d like to watch you if tha’s alright.” He petted down the side of your arm, and as his spoke the wind of his heated exhales blew the stray hairs from your face. You couldn’t tell by the slithering octave of his words whether he was requesting, or darkly demanding you to remove your unlined, lace bra. But you obliged keenly, and Bob grunted sexually as your breasts toppled free.

You then saw Bob Saginowski move more abruptly, and scattered than he ever had shedding his own shirt, and unlatching this jeans. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t overthink the matter, he just threw his usual caution to the wind. And for the first time, your eyes beheld the uncovered treasure that lie beneath the clothed surface. He was so broad, and uncannily built like a sturdy wall that was graffitied with an array of black markings across the span of his torso. The heated desire you’d built up for him in the last year crawled like a paranormal, starving demon from somewhere deep in your core, and you sprung at him with a lustful kiss.

Expecting him to politely protest, or pump the proverbial breaks on your fierce attack on his mouth, you were pleasantly surprised when he began to fiddle with the zipper on your light-shaded jeans. His tongue danced carelessly and gracefully like a practiced waltz with your own, and you let your hands wander over his tight chest sprinkled with hair. Once he pulled your pants, along with your silky underwear over your ankles, you gasped when he palmed your exposed cheeks with both of his masculine, worked fingers. He was dominating you in the most elusive, and well-mannered way and your body ached for more. Quickly, your feet separated from the recently mopped floor, and you were planted on top of the chilly countertop where you served drinks every day. Bob positioned himself slightly between your legs, and his fingers danced friskily near your uncovered center. You’d never look at Lucky Larry’s stool the same way again.

“Spread your legs, Y/N. Lemme see if you taste as good as you always smell when you’re behind the bar with me every night.”

You couldn’t control the subconscious pink that painted your cheeks at the provocative, explicit way he had spoken to you. The heat in the room, of his breaths, and of your own temperature climbed unsubstantially with each passing second, and there was no telling what heights your explosive orgasm would reach tonight as he knelt eye-to-eye with your sex. He pulled your legs possessively forward, dangling them over the hump of his shoulder and nipping skin sporadically between his teeth along his journey up to your swelling bud. There was an intangible exhilaration at the sight of Bob abandoning his submissive mantra and passionately taking you. Your manicured toes curled in exotic elation due to the audaciously close proximity his mouth came to you, and the almost villainous demeanor of that shadowy smile floating across his face as he kissed your lowest lips. You found irony in the fact that you’d only seen Bob smile a very few amount of times in your presence, but now his teeth were gleaming upon the introduction with your sexually tamed flower. Your partner body count was a mild number, but you didn’t feel pressured or an inexperienced fear in his hands. Something in your brain concluded that Bob hadn’t allowed many women in his bed considering his sealed off personality, so you wouldn’t be just another notch.

The gruff friction of his beard chaffing the sensitive crook of your thighs, only added a heightened level of pleasure to the simple, generous lashings of his tongue. The sounds of sucklings, and humming, along with the drooping of his pleasure filled eyes tortured you with euphoria. Your mind told you to cry out like a mangy wolf to the hazy moon as Bob pleaded forth your release, but you couldn’t help but succumb to the irresistible need to watch his heart-shaped lips feasting down below.

“I’m almost there… Just… just a little more.”

“Beg, Y/N. Tell me you need me to finish you off. Tell me you need me to make you come.”

He had been hiding this marvelous, politely dominating, sexual prowess somewhere deep in the valley of his complex mind, and apparently it needed a gasping breath of the light of day. The compiled list of scripts in your mind hadn’t prepared for you a turn of events like this. Expecting to take the reins, and lead his doe-eyes where to go next had been how most of the set-ups played out, but you were more than happy to obey under his commands.

“I need you, Bob. I need you to… I just need you. Please!”

You felt any second you’d spill out into his cavernous mouth and stain the bar underneath your now numbing bum, but upon your groveling admissions of want, the bull-necked man indulging in his own private dine-in ceased instantly. His rearranging of your bodies came swift and smooth as you found yourself straddling his generously sized lap. His finger trialed down the soft line of your nose, then in slow motion grazed the inside of your wet bottom lip, and moved to admire the locket you wore dangling just above the cavity between your breasts. You were thankful for the recognizable tenderness you found waiting in his eyes amongst the welcomed, new traits of boldness you’d discovered as well. He seemed now to be even more perfectly rounded and suited to be the man you longed to be next to.

“Is this okay wi’ you? You’re sure? ‘Cause you know, I don’t wanna do anythin’ you ain’t-“

“Bob, shhh. It’s more than okay. I want this so much.”

“Good, ‘cause I do too. Very much, actually. You uh.. you stay just like that and let me take care a’ you.” He nodded insistently while fondling your rosy nipple.

“You’re the boss, handsome?”

“Whatwas ‘at?” Bob froze, and a cool wind seemed to course through your veins at the light, dangerous manner of his question.

“I said… I said, you’re the boss,” you gulped.

“Oh I, I uh… I heard you, baby. I just like hearing it roll off those pretty little lips. You wanna see the boss, do ya’?” He chirped salaciously and pulled down the hair band tying back your wavy locks, and fisted it around his knuckles.

“I think so. It’s of dire importance that I speak with him. You see, I’ve been having these terribly hot, inappropriate dreams about him, and I think we should discuss it.”

“Wow… Uh.. well, you’re right. We might have to do something about that, because I believe he may be having those same dirty, dirty thoughts about you, too.”

As a exclamation to this stemming role play the two of you had going, Bob heartily thrusted his strong hips upward to attack your insides with his manly member. The feel of him pumping inside of you tingled your organs with electricity, and heat. You grabbed the nape of his neck as he held tightly onto yours, and rode the seated man in the creaking barstool like a bucking mare. There was a build up of the last years worth of attraction stored inside you, and now there was no reasonable excuse to hide that flaming passion for Bob Saginowski. You clawed at his chest, yanking the crucifix chain clumsily right off his neck to fall to the floor inside his discarded, muddy boot. The sloppy bites he was staining around your throat would raise eyebrows tomorrow, but you’d wear them like a medal of honor if need be. He hissed, and drew blood from his own lip as he bit down in uncontrollable eagerness at wetness that coated his thighs.

The particular cushion Bob had chosen left his back vulnerable to the door, and the glass center of it. The interior switches had been flipped off earlier from your attempts to close the place properly, so you didn’t give any thought of being exposed to the passing of nighttime traffic. But, when you happen to catch the wiggling of the turning knob as your eyes turned upward from the earlobe belonging to Bob you were chewing on. You cringed horrifically realizing he had left the door unlocked when he returned with Rocco, as it opened hesitantly. The clinking bell triggered the man to wrap you tightly between his strong arms equipped for defense, and swivel around to meet the intruder.

When none other than the dismissed, scorned ex-girlfriend stepped inside to escape the misting rain of the midnight hour, your heart leaped and whistled like a songbird. Normally, you would’ve crawled under the bar to hide your naked body in shame. But, due to the crass and snarky behavior she had shown to you just mere hours ago, you immaturely decided she may very well deserve the X-rated vision of yourself and a very pleased Bob underneath the bouncing cheeks of your ass.

She disturbingly turned away and shielded her eyes the minute she concluded what she had indeed interrupted.

“What the hell, Bob?! You threw me in a cab for.. for this?!!”

Your necked sank into your shoulders like a frightened turtle when his hands loosened their clasp around your shivering body courtesy of the puff of breeze she carried in upon opening the door. Was he going to just shove you away, leaving you unsatisfied, and lacking a single shred of dignity to your name, so he could chase after her?

“She is exactly why I tossed you into a cab, yeah. She didn’t leave me to run off doing who the hell knows what, with God knows who. So yes, Nadia. She is who belongs here wi’ me and Rocco.”

He combed a chunk of sweat dampened hair behind your pixie ear, and gazed approvingly, and lovingly over meek features.

“Now, I believe I made it clear that you ain’t welcome here. Ever. So, if you’ll excuse me…”

Before she processed the clear, and justifiable dismissal from Bob, he met your mouth to his, and began a romantic rhythm of in and out motions with his hips. An inkling of your conservative side wanted to protest, but you wouldn’t deny the reciprocation of his craving for you. He closed his eyes in bliss, resting his forehead on the dip of your collarbone, and you took the opportunity to wink over his shoulder at an exiting Nadia. The dramatic rolling of her overly-lined eyes tickled your satisfaction.

You could sense he was terribly sorry for his irresponsible move of leaving the door unlatched, and having Nadia intrude on this long-awaited night. He shifted, and situated you strategically so he could reach tingling depths inside of you to stimulate that sweet spot you didn’t even know you had. A wafting aroma of his woodsy, raw sweat blended with your dipping arousal and hints of candy-like perfume followed behind the wave of your orgasm.

You accidentally closed off his air with your boa-constrictor like grip around his core as he shook loose the stress of the long overdue release. Bob’s hands clung fitfully to your lower back, careful not to crush you, and seeped himself inside of you with an airy moan of your name.

When the two of you drank every sense of the other in, and had imploded with a feverish unwinding, you heard Rocco’s begging whines, and clipped nails pawing at the stockroom door. He even howled three times and attempted to poke his nose from under the doorframe. Bob smiled at you slightly, and nudged your nose with his own before draping his unbuttoned shirt over your miniscule shoulders.

“I told ya’. He hates loud noises, so you’re just gonna have to learn to keep those little screams to a whisper, Y/N.” Bob winked at you, and offered you a cool drink of the lager he retrieved from the cooler.

“So, there’s a next time then? Boss…”

“Give me 5 minutes, and find out.”

TAGS: @torialeysha @eap1935

#tomhardy #Tom Hardy #tomhardyfanfic #tomhardyfanfiction #thedrop #bob saginowski #fanfic #fanfiction

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raefill · 5 years

Link

“Shouto-kun,” Todoroki hears, like an echo from his memory, in the exact same disappointed tone he’s using now. “Look at these,” Midoriya holds up the tattered pair of boxer briefs, delicately grasped between the very tips of his thumb and forefinger. “This is the old you,” Midoriya says, lifting them out of Todoroki’s reach as he tries to snatch them out of embarrassment.

“I- I get it, Izuku, just put them away!” He begs, trying to shield the other customers lingering near the fitting rooms from the view of his rattiest pair of underwear being flailed around like a flag to signify his shame.

“Repeat after me,” Midoriya demands, lowering the underwear to a less visible height, “I’m not a homeless person.”

“I’m not a homeless person,” Todoroki parrots.

“I’m actually kinda loaded.”

“I’m actua- wait-”

“There’s no reason I should be wearing underwear with holes in,” Midoriya finishes with a flourish. Todoroki hangs his head.

“There’s no reason I should be wearing underwear with holes in,” he agrees. Full of regret for letting Midoriya look through his clothes to see what there was to ‘work with,’ he turns tail with the pile of clothes Midoriya picked out and heads into one of the cubicles in the fitting room. He’d deemed Todoroki’s entire sock and underwear drawer a lost cause. Then said that most of his pajamas were only comfy because he’d been wearing the same ones for five years. Which might be true but Todoroki didn’t think they were complete write-offs, either. But that is how he had ended up out here shopping, Midoriya having made the very good point that wearing boxers without holes would already be an improvement.

Midoriya sits himself on the little bench inside the changing room, surrounded by bags full of underwear, socks, and pajamas that Todoroki had felt surprisingly not-guilty spending his allowance on. Although the purpose of him asking Midoriya for help had been envisioned completely differently, Todoroki recognises he really probably did need to refresh a lot of the basic items in his closet.

Alongside the few pairs of jeans he wanted to pick up, slimmer than he would usually wear due to his so-called best friend, nothing Midoriya had handed him in the pile screams ‘sexy’. But he sucks in a deep breath, draws the curtain behind him and goes for the jeans first. Admittedly, they do show off the shape of his legs. So he flicks the curtain open, receiving an approving nod from Midoriya.

“Show me the good stuff, Shouto-kun,” Midoriya practically bounces in his seat. Todoroki abandons the jeans, pulling a pair of leggings out of the pile. He hasn’t worn any since he was a child, too omegan for him to been seen wearing out and about. But they’re black and incredibly soft, so he slips into them, surprised to find they’re high waisted. And extremely comfortable.

When he looks in the mirror he’s surprised by his own appearance. The usually unnoticeable roundness in his hips is more pronounced, the waistband sitting right where his sides would nip in if he weren’t quite so strung with muscle. He hasn’t looked so close to being hourglass shaped in years. Hero training destroying pretty much all aspects of his physicality as an omega besides what is in his pants.

A little uncertain, he pulls out the knit sweater, as per Midoriya’s instructions. It’s grey, with thick strands woven together, hanging loosely off of one shoulder and just long enough to tuck under his ass. It makes his neck look incredibly long, he thinks.

He slides a hand along his bare shoulder, coming up to cup his palm around his scent gland, which somehow feels much more exposed than usual. Other than that, though, the entire ensemble is incredibly comfy. Todoroki is somehow both alright and not. He feels like he’s teetering right on the very edge of his comfort zone, which has him questioning what hope he ever really had of wearing anything risqué. But it's just Midoriya outside and so he steels himself.

He opens the curtain.

Midoriya’s eyes light up. Todoroki can see him practically vibrating out of his seat at the sight of a job well done.

“This isn’t really what I had in mind,” Todoroki admits, although it’s not bad either, moving a hand to cover his exposed shoulder.

“But you look so cute!” Midoriya squawks. Todoroki flushes, so he looks down to hide behind his fringe. Noticing his reluctance, Midoriya sighs. “If you’re not comfortable then that’s okay,” he says, voice soft. Todoroki looks up at him briefly, unable to hold eye contact for long.

“You don’t think- that it’s too obviously omegan?” Todoroki asks. He sees Midoriya shake his head in his peripheral vision. Which, somehow, gives him the courage to look up again. Midoriya is smiling at him, but it’s off.

“Betas experiment with omegan fashion all the time,” he points out, “this isn’t even that omegan.” He pauses, “did you forget that being an omega isn’t actually shameful?” Todoroki’s brain shuts down on him, jaw-dropping at the insinuation.

“Izuku, you know that’s not-”

“I know, you haven’t insulted me,” Midoriya laughs. Although his smile isn’t as lively as usual, opening up a pit of dread in Todoroki’s stomach. “It’s just clothes, Shouto-kun, who’s to say what piece of fabric is more one dynamic than another? I could put you in a studded leather jacket and you’d look just as good,” Midoriya flips his notebook open. “Actually, I’m going to add that to the list,” he says, visibly perking up at having new ideas. Midoriya doesn’t stop scribbling for a while, mumbling away and leaving Todoroki to his thoughts.

He supposes Midoriya is right. He’s not sure when he internalised his father’s rhetoric but he’s started to find being recognised as an omega embarrassing. Which is ridiculous, one of the people he loves and respects most in the world is the omega sat right in front of him. He watches Midoriya mutter to himself, the once slight little omega on the first day of class now broad, strong, confident, and wearing pastel pink skinny jeans with a floral shirt. He thinks, that if Midoriya can blend those things, then maybe he can too.

Maybe with fewer flowers.

“You’re right,” he says, interrupting Midoriya’s train of thought. He looks up from his notebook curiously, obviously having forgotten what they had been talking about. “There’s nothing shameful about being an omega,” he reminds him. Midoriya scoffs, vibrant amusement back in full force in those big green eyes. “Now, do I actually look good in this or were you just meddling again?” Todoroki teases. Midoriya taps his pen against his lips, giving the question some real thought, eyes roaming up and down Todoroki’s body.

“Have you ever seen something so soft that if you don’t pet it you feel like you might die?” Midoriya asks. Todoroki thinks of the cat that he sometimes passes by the convenience store and nods. Then thinks that through a little further.

“Oh,” Todoroki blinks. Then opens his arms. The sleeves are still too long even with his arms stretched all the way out, he notices.

Midoriya ditches his notebook, bounding up to Todoroki and launching himself into the hug. He hooks his chin on Todoroki’s shoulder, finally tall enough to do that now without standing on his tiptoes. True to his word, Midoriya rubs his hands up and down the soft fabric covering his back. Todoroki squeezes him.

There’s a moment of quiet, both enjoying the simplicity of it.

“Kacchan,” Midoriya murmurs, “you really like him?” Todoroki turns, nuzzling into Midoriya’s hair and inhaling. The familiar scent of a pack mate easing any tension left in him.

“Yes,” he says. Midoriya squeezes him back.

“I’m so happy for you, Shouto-kun.”

Todoroki really had not planned for this. After his Midoriya-induced epiphany, he thought that maybe he would consider wearing those comfy leggings to a movie night in the common room next week. Or possibly wear something a little less plain on their next unofficial class trip to the mall.

Instead, he finds himself outside of his dorm, donned in his leggings and very neck-exposing jumper, in the chilly evening wind, surrounded by his classmates as the fire alarm in their dorm blares. Worse, other classes in the buildings around them are looking out of their windows to see what the racket is.

He stands barefoot on the cold, wet, pavement. Midoriya stands next to him, wringing his hands and looking very guilty. But Todoroki knows this is equally their own fault. Really, they’re aiming to be pro heroes, get top scores in class, but they’re both too stupid to realise that Todoroki symbolically burning his ratty old underwear indoors would set off the fire alarm.

He hadn’t even questioned it. Midoriya handed the cloth back to him after returning from their arduous shopping trip, laden with bags from various stores including one labelled ‘Victoria’s Secret’, and Todoroki switched his quirk on without batting an eyelid.

The only plus side is in his exhaustion he didn’t accidentally send his new clothes up in flames too. He can’t imagine having to face his father after he’s seen credit card charges to a store that exclusively sells lingerie and frilly pajamas, then go on to admit he’d accidentally burnt it all as soon as he got it home.

A situation made worse because this is exactly the kind of thing his father has been encouraging him to spend the family money on in order to try and squeeze Todoroki into a quirk marriage.

He curses Midoriya out in his head for being so convincing. About going into that store and because it makes it look like he’s falling for his father’s whims. It is, in fact, the exact opposite. Todoroki thinks he might have to avoid Endeavor for a while.

Kirishima sidles up next to him, shirtless but cheerful in the cold as the last of the class filter out of the building. No doubt Aizawa is going to give him a bollocking for this.

“You know what happened?” Kirishima asks, cheeky grin firmly in place.

“Ah-” Midoriya squawks, making a slashing motion at his neck as a sign to silence Kirishima. Todoroki rolls his eyes.

“You know where we were today,” he states. Kirishima shrugs, but the light dancing in his eyes tells Todoroki he knows exactly what was going on at the mall, even if his dynamic had been left out of it. It’s verging on humiliating to have more than one person know he’s so sexually inept. But, this is who his best friend has chosen to trust, so he sighs. “Izuku suggested I symbolically burn a piece of old clothing,” he omits the finer details. Todoroki can see Kirishima's grin freezes, fixed to his face as he tries to resist laughing. “Underwear,” he says. Kirishima guffaws, slapping him on the back.

“That’s manly as hell, dude,” Kirishima continues to laugh. As much as Todoroki wants the ground to open up and swallow him, for a multitude of reasons, he finds himself having to try and repress a smile. Kirishima’s laughter has always been infectious, and when Midoriya loses it and starts sniggering beside him he knows he’s lost the battle. The hilarity of the situation hits him all at once. He’s still embarrassed, cheeks as pink as the cold tip of his nose, but it’s much more enjoyable to belly laugh with his friends than wallow. He might also be a little hysterical.

“What are you losers laughing about?” Bakugou’s voice interrupts, tone mocking. Todoroki looks up, eyes a little watery, to see him striding over from the still-blaring building. There’s a harsh grin, almost cruel in its angles, stretched across his face. But there’s a warmth in it that could almost be considered friendly. Kirishima just wheezes harder at the sight of Bakugou’s swagger. Possibly because he’s only clad in a towel.

Todoroki is enjoying it. Very much. Especially when water drips from a dark lock of blond hair and hits his collarbone. The droplet streaks straight down his pec, coming to a stop when it hits a very hard, pink, nipple. Todoroki’s mouth goes dry.

In his distraction, he doesn’t notice that Bakugou hasn’t slowed down. Only realising something is off when Bakugou doesn’t stop in the space that would form their makeshift group into a neat circle. Instead, he pushes into the space between Todoroki and Kirishima, hooking an arm around Todoroki’s waist.

But Todoroki doesn’t stumble when Bakugou reels him in to press their sides together, already moving to do the same. He’s still hiccuping little laughs out every now and again but starts throwing heat out where Bakugou has attached himself and hopes that he won’t catch a cold. The smell of soap is so strong he thinks Aizawa probably plucked Bakugou straight from the shower and sent him marching outside.

Only when he’s got his arm firmly wrapped around Bakugou’s shoulders does he notice that Midoriya and Kirishima have gone silent. He looks up, curious as to their sudden quiet, only to find Kirishima staring wide-eyed.

He shakily lifts a finger, pointing at Bakugou and Todoroki where they’re pressed together, mouth opening and closing.

“Ba-Bakugou?!”

“Hah?!” Bakugou responds immediately. Midoriya shoots forward, pushing Kirishima’s arm down and crowding him in the opposite direction with a nervous smile. Kirishima doesn’t go easy, too busy staring to organise his feet into moving where Midoriya takes him.

“It was so nice hanging out with you today, Shouto-kun,” he babbles, giving Kirishima a shove. “We should do this again sometime- come on Eijirou-kun- I’ll text you!” He calls over his shoulder, wrangling his shell shocked mate into a headlock and dragging him away.

“See you, Izuku,” Todoroki calls after them. Slightly delayed if only because he’s touched that Midoriya had kept so much of his secret under wraps through whatever interrogation techniques Kirishima had used on him. He looks to Bakugou.

“What was that about?” Bakugou asks. Todoroki snorts involuntarily. Definitely hysterical. He shakes his head, unable to shift the smile from his face for some reason. He’s having fun, he realises. So he pulls Bakugou a little closer, who is looking at him with that magnetism again, brow and jaw relaxed for once in his life.

“What?” He asks. Bakugou doesn’t answer, using the hand not occupied with Todoroki’s waist to cup his jaw. His body moves as Bakugou turns Todoroki’s head to face him, bringing their chests flush. Bakugou continues to stare. Todoroki can feel his smile becoming more and more timid under the scrutiny, verging on breaking into a cold sweat under the intensity of his gaze. By the time Bakugou speaks they’re so close their noses are almost touching. It sends a thrill down Todoroki’s spine.

“You’re beautiful,” Bakugou says. All Todoroki has time to do is choke on his own inhale before Bakugou is kissing him. Out in the open. In front of everyone. Public kisses tend to be reserved for wedding ceremonies but Todoroki seems to conveniently forget because then Bakugou’s fingers are in his hair and the rest of the world doesn’t matter. Not while the soft flesh of Bakugou’s lips is sliding across his own, interlocking and parting with a little wet sound that Todoroki locks away in his memory vault of absolute filth to review late at night.

“Is nobody else seeing this?” He hears, on the edge of his awareness, amongst what sounds suspiciously like Kirishima screaming and Midoriya’s panicked shushing.

But Bakugou lets go of him as swiftly as he’s snatched him up, turning and half jogging back to the dorms. Which are no longer ringing with fire alarms, he realises with a start. Only once Bakugou has disappeared back inside does Todoroki realise he didn’t notice his new outfit. Todoroki laughs, a little dazed but amused by Bakugou’s eagerness to finish washing the suds from his hair and high on being called beautiful with seemingly no help needed from what he was wearing. He turns, suddenly courageous in the face of his classmates.

“What about him?” Uraraka asks. Less people have turned to see what Kirishima is so riled up about than he expected and there’s a steady filter of cold, underdressed, students heading back towards the dorms.

“He does look unusually happy,” Kaminari hums.

Midoriya catches Kirishima before he deflates onto the floor, red faced with an incredulous smile. Todoroki inhales the cool air, filled with a new sense of purpose, and turns to pursue Bakugou into the building. But not without giving Kirishima an apologetic wave.

After all, nobody else had seen.

#todobaku #bakutodo #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #tododeku #platonic tododeku #wrae writes

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bangtangurlarmy · 7 years

Text

Belie [2] || Taehyung (m)

Requested - a fluffy ending for the anon

Pairing - Kim Taehyung x Reader (ft. Namjoon) [Not a threesome!]

Genre - Angst, Smut

Summary - It was all a misunderstanding.

That same day, Taehyung had gone to meet her; the one who’d caused you to shut him away, to throw him, to kick him out of your life.

“I fucking told you not to call me!” He almost spat at her face, right there in the middle of the coffee shop. A few of the customers looked up to see what was going on, but thankfully paid no heed. But even if they did, Taehyung wasn’t going to care.

“But why not?” She looked up at him, unfazed and clueless. Like she had not just created a wall in between you two and a lifetime of guilt for Taehyung to sulk over. His nostrils flared, and he really wasn’t the one to get angry so easily. So this was saying something.

“I have a girlfriend!” Have, not had. You were still his. No matter what, you were always going to be his.

Even after two months of trying to get back with you, he was insistent on telling everybody that you both were just taking a break, you hadn’t broken up, don’t be silly!

It had been a week into the second month since he’d last heard from you. A week since he began getting suspicious that you had really blocked his number. He was hurt. But what could he do? It was his fault this happened in the first place. If he hadn’t had that one night stand with that girl, this would have never even happened.

You couldn’t believe what you were doing. What the hell were you doing?

Your lips were latched onto the same stranger’s mouth who you’d slept with two days ago. And today, you called him over because you couldn’t stop your mind from flooding with images of Taehyung. Every single time you were alone with your thoughts, he was there. Even now, as you pushed the guy - okay, you knew his name but you weren’t ready to acknowledge it - on the sofa, and as you pulled his top over his head, you couldn’t help but wish this was Taehyung. You yearned for his familiar touch.

Right then you felt Namjoon’s hand fondling - groping - your breasts, his fingers holding your hard nipples captive. In the past month, you’d brought around four men to your house. Four. FUCKING. MEN.

If Taehyung ever found that out, and called you a slut, whore, bitch - you’d take it.

And all you did with these men was have sex. No talking; just groping, feeling, thrusting and bye-bye. You’d lost so much weight because of that. You were pretty much a bag of bones now and you wished Taehyung would come back so he could feed you till you died. But you knew that was never going to happen because, one: you blocked his number. Two: you kicked him out of your life. Three: if anybody could bring him back, it was you and only you.

“Mm, Y/N, babe, you’re so wet.” Namjoon kissed down your neck and you couldn’t find it in you to kick him out either. So you let him do whatever it was that he wanted to do. Your hands roamed through his hair, moaning whenever required although half of them weren’t even rightfully elicited.

You didn’t even gasp when you felt him enter you. That used to this you were. You should have been ashamed, but all you could feel was exhilaration.

You bounced on his member, your hand going south to pleasure yourself since all he was doing was watching you. You felt so, so close to your orgasm, when a faint jiggling of a door knob rung in your ears and a deep voice echoed throughout your house.

“Y/N!!” Your eyes snapped open and you turned your head to see Taehyung staring at you with absolutely dark eyes. Nothing after that registered. Faint movements and shuffling of clothes were heard, a mumble of an empty apology and the sound of the door clicking shut.

Taehyung remained in the same spot, at the entrance of your living room, his hands tucked deep inside his hoodie pockets and pulling it down discreetly like he would do anything to hide his boner.

When his eyes suggestively ran the length of your body, you realized you were standing stark naked in front of him. But you made no sudden movements. You simply reached for your sweater and pulled it over your head, it covering most of your parts.

“How did you get in?” Your voice was bored, like you could’ve been using it for a better purpose than talking to him.

“You never said I had to return the duplicate key.”

“Why didn’t you think of it two months ago?”

“Would you have been cooled down enough to bear to see my face?”

“Point.” You shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly.

“Besides, I had to search for it since I’m not really used to living in my apartment.” You didn’t know if that was meant for throwing shade at you or what.

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes, walking in to the kitchen to get yourself a glass of water because your mouth was way too dry. You didn’t know if it was dehydration, or his appearance in general that caused it. Moreover, your hands shook as you grabbed a glass and filled it with water.

“Aren’t you eating?”

“Don’t you have somebody waiting for you?”

“I didn’t know you were waiting for me.” You could literally hear the smug smirk in his voice. If you turned around right then, you’d melt.

“I wasn’t.” You gripped your glass tightly as you raised it your lips and took long, hungry gulps of water.

“Tell me the truth, Y/N. Have you not been eating?” His voice was closer as you stood there, next to the kitchen sink, unmoving. One step closer and he could wrap you in his protective embrace and you would feel his breath fanning against your neck-

You closed your eyes, and inhaled deeply. “I wish it was that easy, Taehyung.”

And he took that one step. You didn’t open your eyes. You could feel his warm breath hitting the side of your cheek instead of your neck, and his hands subtly rested against your hips. “You’ve lost so much weight. Seeing you like this...it hurts me, Y/N.”

“Oh, great!” You exclaimed suddenly, startling him a little. You turned around and stared him in the eyes, “Now you must know how I felt that day. Or at least, a part of it.” You crossed your arms above your chest. His eyes remained locked with yours, but he didn’t say anything.

You watched silently as tears filled his eyes and slowly, fell over his cheeks one-by-one, a kind of broken gaze resting on you.

“You think these months of separation didn’t hurt me at all, Y/N? Do you think that ill of me? I never meant to have that one-night stand with that girl, Y/N. And I told her not to call me...and, it was all such a huge fucking misunderstanding- just fucking come here-”

And he pulled you in so suddenly you could feel your breath getting knocked off as he latched onto your lips, desperately holding on to you. You found yourself melting into the kiss with every passing moment, and you could feel your heart break and mend at the same time as his tears fell upon your cheeks. Your hands subconsciously came up to cup his cheeks and brush his tears away, your feet standing on tip-toes to reach further into the kiss. You could feel that familiar, dreadful thirst of wanting Taehyung’s touch finally being quenched as his hands roamed over every inch of your body under your sweater. You felt his warm hands eliminating the cold from your skin as he picked you up and blindly, out of familiarity, walked straight into your room with you wrapped firmly around his waist.

You felt the soft, cold mattress hitting your bare skin after you let him take your sweater off, his eyes glazing over with love, pain and lust.

“You look beautiful, Y/N. But please, eat something. Seeing you like this...”

You could feel the guilt ripping at every corner of your inner being. The fact that he blamed most of this on himself was hurtful to watch. And the fact that he was innocent to think you’d been starving yourself made your heart clench tighter.

“Tae...” You breathed, his bare chest now glowing in the afternoon sunlight. Another tear had escaped his eye, and you knew that if you were going to ask him to be honest to you, you were going to have to start it with yourself.

“I slept with people regularly. I had sex with random men after you were gone because I couldn’t cope up with the fact that you were gone. I kicked you out because I didn’t want you to tell me we had to break up. I’m sorry...I probably disgust you-”

Taehyung’s warm, soft lips wrapped yours in a perfectly molded kiss, his fingers squeezing the sides of your waist. He’d completely ignored your revelation.

“In a month, baby, I need some fat to pinch. Do you understand?” He looked at you with such overpowering love, you didn’t trust our voice to speak. You nodded, your hands clutching onto his shoulders.

“Otherwise you’ll be deprived of sex with me. I will not fuck you until and unless you have a tummy.” A finger ran across your hollow cheek and you could feel your previously hibernating heat, uncurling in your abdomen. This was exciting you. The talk about him making love to you was driving you crazy.

“Yes, Taehyung.” You could feel the confidence surging in waves through you. You could feel the warmth of his touch become even more warmer until it was sizzling against your bare skin. His fingers, as they ran through every nook, cranny, bend and curve of your body, elicited fireworks inside you.

When finally he entered you after what you hadn’t realized was a foreplay of sorts, you gasped. You gasped at the way he widened you, his eyes never leaving yours as he grunted. You could feel the satisfaction of him filling you up, his hands working wonders as one of them fondled with your breasts, the other rubbing sensational circles over your clit.

With great difficulty you fought back your approaching orgasm.

“No baby, let it go.” Taehyung suckled on a spot on your neck, his breath and tongue teasing as his fingers wrapped gently around your throat. You felt the oxygen supply being cut off, the lightheadedness feeling like ecstasy as his other hand continuously rubbed your clit harder and faster. Your moans increased pitch by pitch, and at last he placed a harsh kiss on your lips. You felt the zing reverberate through your body as it convulsed slightly, twitching a little as he overstimulated you, his hand letting go of your throat, and his lips placing saccharine, wet kisses on your jaw.

“I missed you so much, baby girl. So much. I need more than just a day to show you how much...but it can wait.”

“Uh...” You breathed, it coming out as a whine. “Why...?”

“You need to get some food into your system. You can’t burn calories if you don’t have any.” He winked and his lips pulled into a lopsided grin. It was so goofy it made you laugh, despite your worn condition.

You pulled him into another kiss. “I missed you, too.”

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harry-meepmeep-dresden · 5 years

Text

Serious Question

If I started posting some of my original content on Patreon or somewhere, how many people would be interested? Example of my original work below the read more. Please do not steal it. Still working out the kinks of some of the grammar software I use so please forgive me for anything that I’ve missed. I’ll try to get it fixed asap.

Please let me know if you like it as well <3

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

Running for your life is not the best feeling or reason to run. That’s what Tham always said. Elves possessed a messed up view on the death thing since immortality gets boring after a while. The immortal pointy-eared humanoids only faced death when they wished too. Tham might end up laughing, dashing ahead, and even running backward most likely in this plight, but she wasn’t here. I, unfortunately, was. Legs burning as my feet hit the ground hard. A glance back at the screaming goblins let me know just how much ‘fun’ I'd have if I stopped running. It took most of my strength just to hold the large pack filled with a few valuables of questionable ownership.

All right, more than a few. A heavy few things.

If I wasted even a single precious bullet Tham‘d take it out of my hide, or worse my pay. She’d likely show even more anger if the items didn't get delivered. So for the sake of profit and the higher chance of survival the gun came out of the tight leather holster.

A risky chance to take, slowing enough so the goblins got in range, I peered over my shoulder and fired. One of the five shots expelled and a small cracked stone popped out of the gun. Lightning struck out from the muzzle and hit the first goblin, turning him into a gnomish lightbulb for a moment. The greasy hair stood up because of static before bursting into flame. Two others didn’t dive out of the way fast enough and became toasty. Luckily, while running, the stench couldn’t reach me.

Not much farther until I'd reach safety. Keep moving. Tham owed far more than proposed for this job. Foot massage, hot bath, and maybe even those fancy coffee beans the satyrs grew. Expensive stuff. Great distractions to think on instead of the pounding foot pain. The wagon soon came into view. The cliff took a higher drop than I remembered. Must have taken a wrong turn. Since the survivability, if I turned around and ran towards them, rested at zero to none, the alternative possibilities remained limited.

“Luey!” my shout startled the driver making him stare up towards the short cliff to his right.

He caught the bag of goods I threw at him. I leaped. I considered jumping still carrying everything, but I didn’t want to risk a landing on top. Instead, I fell onto the softer items we stored in the back. Gold encrusted boxes, with the gems, tended to break bones if you landed on them from a high, or even a regular fall. Learned from experience. A few experiences.

Upon my safe landing, Luey got the wagon moving as quick as possible. The goblins, not having soft items to land on opted not to follow, but hurled rocks at us. With a heavy sigh, I closed my eyes and tried not to let the bumpy road bother me.

“Um, where are your shoes? And one of your socks is missing too,” Luey, kept around for his outstanding observational skills.

“Oh you know, crawled through a narrow goblin hole. Gave them my shoes as a toll,” they’d pulled them hard enough they came off with one tug. The boots weren’t worth stopping and getting eviscerated to retrieve.

“I don’t think those shoes will fit them. Weren’t they brand new?”

“Luey, shut up please.”

“I mean you said you didn’t need help. With me there we might have killed most of them and made the others run. But no, ‘just a pickup job’ and-”

“Shut it. I will not admit I needed your help. I got out of there, didn’t I?” I attempted to end the conversation and succeeded with my interruption.

Never understood his overwhelming urge to be right. Then again, I think he just liked the sound of his own voice saying ‘I told you so’. His little snort made me want to use another bullet, but I opted to find one of the water skins and take a few long drinks.

After removal of the remaining sock, it ended up getting tossed overboard. What’s the point of keeping a single sock? I’d add the cost of the boots and a new pair of socks to the charge for the chest. Those were custom-made boots. My feet weren’t the normal size for more durable footwear. It took the cobbler over a month to make the forsaken pair. They fit perfect. If they were on my feet, then the soreness wouldn’t even be an issue. Most people‘s feet after running for three miles over the stones, sticks, and who knows what else would be sore, and bleeding. Boots would have prevented all of that.

With thirst satisfied I tried to get comfortable in the wagon. With my eyes closed, it didn’t take long to fall asleep.

“Dion, we’re here. I can’t find our papers from Tham. Where d’you put them?” Luey kept messing up my hair until I stopped pretending to be asleep anymore, even moving his hands to grip my shoulders and shake me just to make sure.

“Papers? You’ve got to be-” looking up as I spoke, my words caught when the bane of the current situation looked at me. “Hello, Raflinel.”

“It’s Rafinielle,” he gave me the normal disdain filled look as he corrected my purposeful butchering of his name. I didn’t like the guy, so making his life difficult filled mine with a hint of joy.

“That’s what I said. You needed our papers, right?” I sighed and began to dig into smaller crates.

For how much Luey deserved a throttling for his asinine superiority complex the man hid our goods well. I didn’t even have to worry over exposing them as I dug around inside the bag and brought up a scroll with a distinctive wax marking on it. A corner missing from being chewed off the paper. Transported worg puppies a couple weeks prior. Like every animal baby, they caused destruction to everything. The scroll gave us free passage to come and go without being searched or halted for more than an hour. The council, more concerned over weapons than any other illegal goods, meant the lovely sidearm might end up being confiscated by the guards until departure without that paper.

Sometimes the guards got greedy which is why Luey hid the bag with the chest in it. The goods we got weren’t always the kind guards enjoyed letting into the city without a cut. The guards made dirt for salary, but their jobs were to stand there and whistle if an attacks were inbound. Most of them didn’t even know how to wield the weapons they carried, so my sympathy for their lack of wealth is non-existent. They charged high, fake taxes and other miscellaneous amounts the city council didn’t demand and put it right into their own pockets. Travelers with an abundance of expensive objects have large purses and not knowning any better fell for it. In Faethes, a town between giant filled hills and goblin rich forests, the con artists were the real monsters.

One particular guard just liked to give people a difficult time. Something about him being one of the high guards of the capital or other nonsense. Not saying he’s a liar, he knows how to use the sword and bow, and might be the only non-corrupt member. This guard, Rafinielle, scrutinized the paper. He attempted a more serious approach to the job. Most of the other guards just let us through. Luey and I come here because it happens to be Tham’s preferred trading post.

“Rafi-nelly, we’ve come through here a dozen times and you know we have that paper. It makes no sense why you don’t just let us go through,” the same thing I say every single time he’s passed the paper back to me.

“Protocol. Without protocol and order, there’d be a mess. As a human, I don’t expect you understand any of that. Even if you have magic secret to longevity. Now be on your way. You cause any trouble and I’ll volunteer to be the one to throw you out of town. I’d take that weapon, and tear that damn paper to shreds," Rafinielle said. He's shorter than me while I sat in the wagon, but still managed to look down on me.

Pure, annoyance driven hate filled my thoughts as I shoved the paper back into the water safe pouch in the wagon. Luey, bless his soul, started the horse moving before I said a word. The movement caused me to bite my tongue and cut off the trouble filled words bouncing at the forefront of my thoughts. Once speaking proved out of the question I opted for a few lewd hand gestures instead. It’s rare when you can see an elf get flustered to the point their face goes red. The ability to annoy Rafinielle into embarrassment, I’m an expert at.

When we were far enough away Elven eyes couldn’t see finite gestures, I moved to dig through the packs to find a snack to eat. Didn‘t want to give him any reason to be suspicious.

Luey directed the horse through the large gates of worked wood and earth that marked the entryway of Faethes. Thirty feet tall hardened wood, grown straight from the ground and shaped into the protective walls of the city. The walls circled the entire expanse, except the three gates, which were open. When you live near giants, it only makes sense to have something just as big to keep them out. Entering the city always held a moment of awe for me. The patience the wall woodworkers possessed to create such a magnificent accomplishment is unimaginable. The walls, being living trees (although what kind I don’t know), grew an extra few inches every year, so in time, they might even touch the clouds.

Inside the city, all sorts of bustling occurred. Gnomes, elves of different races, dwarves, the half-breed something or others, and humans roamed and haggled. Yet no other human such as myself. Human, yes I am, but I lack the regular human lifespan. It made a few people angry and demand the explanation. If I had one, I’d give it in a heartbeat. For a price that is.

Speaking of prices, Luey stopped the wagon in front of Tham’s Treasures and Artifacts. Time to negotiate my way into getting a new pair of boots.

Chimes sounded as Luey and I entered the shop. Glowing orbs provided enough light for shoppers to browse the wares.

For the number of things available, there were far too many shelves lining the walls. Each item appeared to have a solid foot of space around it. Valuables were breakable. To make sure a person didn't bump and break something providing enough space is essential.

People journeyed to Faethes to purchase rare items at Tham's place. Containers, clothing, jewelry, and far more sat on display. Tham kept most of the rare loot in the back. This included spell bullets, enchanted items, rare gems, and weaponry. To discourage thieves, Tham secured her rarer wares in a room behind the counter. I wouldn't suggest trying to get into that back room either. Tham kept a ward on the passageway. Even if I tried, no way could I live through the attempt to break in. Rumor is that she made the ward herself. If Luey didn't stop me on our first visit my extra-long life might have met a quick end.

A few travelers were talking with Tham. It looked as though she had a chain with a green crystal hooked on the end. Most likely they wanted the crystal. Our business isn’t urgent so Luey and I waited.

Travelers from other cities came to Faethes often. Many considered Faethes the capital city of Constalence. Faethes, on top of being the capital, more humans lived there than any other city. Might be because of how safe the tall walls appeared. As short-lived beings, humans did not occupy many positions of power. The highest ranked human represented all the humans on the city council. They deserved at least one vote.

Humans, such cowards. Most didn't chance to leave the safety and remained content with manual labor. That small fact might be why Rafinielle hated me. If I acknowledged his opinions on me that might hurt my feelings.

The elves finished their purchases and began to leave, eyeing me on their way out. It’s great being considered a second-class citizen. Even if humans made up a large part of the population of Faethes, most unable to afford to shop at Tham's. If I told them I'd provided Tham with that jewel they'd laugh. No need fussing over it.

Tham looked to us and smiled. She wore her hair up in braids today. Tham's ears poked out of her hair. Tham adorned the two points with mithril clips. Her skin showed the immortal radiance of the elves with how smooth it appeared. She wore powder on her cheeks and a green shade on her eyelids. Never understood the urge to wear different colored powders. Sometimes it looked nice, but it wasn't for me.

"Dion!" she exclaimed and moved around the counter. "How's my favorite human thief?"

“You have more than one human thief?” I grinned. “It's more of a treasure hunter instead of a thief.”

"You take goods never in your possession prior. You can call it whatever you'd like, but that still screams 'thief' to me. If I had another, you'd still be my favorite," she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and brought me in for a hug.

Tham stood a few inches taller than me. Elves' natural height might make a human feel short, even if the human is of average height. I looked up to meet her sparkling blue eyes and couldn't help but smile. Tham acts selfish, impulsive, and underestimate the danger retrieving boxes filled with who knows what. She remained one of my closest friends despite those traits. However, the idea she might sell me out if offered a good price didn't escape my attention.

My smile faded as she moved to take the box.

"Hey now, no business just yet. We have to renegotiate the price. Getting this took far more effort than initially advertised. I lost my shoes. So we need to chalk a pair of custom leather boots onto the bill," my smile came back when she pouted.

She hated negotiations because that meant someone possessed something she wanted. Neener, neener I've got the pretty box.

Her pout broke as she sighed before speaking, "You are an exasperating human, aren't you, Dion? Fine. New boots added onto the bill."

“Brand new, custom, leather boots.”

“Brand new. Custom. Leather. Boots,” she confirmed.

When dealing with elves or any merchant, a person needed to make sure that their demands were meticulously precise. Merchants might act like a djinn towards a helpless buyer. By this I mean they could give a person what they wanted, without it being what they wanted. I wanted new, custom boots. Tham said 'new boots'. If I accepted the proposal, she could end up giving me the cheapest new boots she could find without breaking the verbal contract. The boots didn't even need to fit me. The boots could end up crocheted instead of leather. So always double check your accords.

"Deal," I passed her the box.

Her smile grew immensely when she got to hold the small chest. It didn't appear as anything out of the ordinary. Then again, she desired what’s tucked away inside the chest. Tham moved to set the box on the counter before reaching into her pocket. She drew out a few small crafting tools for lock picking. Although she could have asked me to pick the lock, she attempted to do it herself. Refusing to ask the professional, me, to do their job only hurt my pride a smidge.

Luey looked around while I kept my eyes on Tham and her attempts. When a small 'snap' sounded her face turned pinker than the powder made it appear. After a couple of minutes, two 'snaps', and a couple tiny broken tools she raised an eyebrow at me. Her eyes narrowed, and I tried not to smile. I swear, I tried not too. Her little huff made it that much harder to fight off a grin. She stepped back from the counter. With my pride bandaged, I moved to get out my own tools to unlock the chest. I moved to take up space she'd left so I could get to work. Trap dismantling and lock picking were art forms. Any idiot could throw paint on a canvas or shove two metal parts into a hole. That didn't mean they'd get the desired results. Just a slight twist and-

"OW!" I jumped back and looked at my fingers.

The chest’s defenses relied on more than a solid metal lock to keep people out. My tools rested inside the lock. A shock of light snapped between the two metal parts. Lightning magic triggered by all other means, but the right key. That made things more interesting.

Tham looked at me with a smug expression. The corner of her lip drawn up in a smile and one of her eyebrows raised. No way I'd admit this might be difficult. Instead, I drew out my thick gloves and went back to work. The leather began to heat as I continued working. A rather dramatic 'click' sounded as the lock popped open. Okay, maybe it might have been less dramatic than I thought, but still dramatic. With my still gloved hands, I opened the box.

Foam padding surrounded glass orbs inside the chest. The foam protected the orbs from damage. No doubt the foam did its job since the contents appeared in prime condition. A lump formed in my throat when I remembered how roughly I'd treated the chest on my escape. Tham’s chances of murdering me if the treasure inside ended up damaged rather high.

“I thought you said this‘d be a treasure. Rubies and diamonds. What’s in here are glass globes with some kind of liquid inside," reaching into the chest I intended to pick one up to look closer at it. Luey's hand grabbed my wrist and prevented it from going any closer to the glass. "Hey! What's the matter Luey?” "You shouldn't touch those," he looked at Tham. "You lied to us."

The tone of his voice, so deep and emotionless made me swallow a sudden lump in my throat. Simultaneously, my mouth felt dry. Luey never got angry in the years I'd known him. The immortal man of stranger unknown origin than myself never got angry. Not until now.

"I said there was a treasure. If Dion and yourself thought it mean jewels and coins, then that is your mistake," Tham pulled the chest across the counter to rest in front of her. "Honestly, I thought the contents of the chest were likely worthless bobbles."

"Those are nowhere near bobbles," he growled deep in the back of his throat and reached to take the box back. "I should destroy These."

"I'm sorry, but no. They're my property now," Tham argued although her hands trembled as Luey stood up straighter.

Luey towered over most, including elves, and because of that, few people knew he often slouched. When he stood up straight, he almost gained another foot in height. Slowly, I began to back away. This might not end well if Tham continued to argue.

"Fine. I’ll get to research them first. I also want to see how you 'destroy' them and tell me everything you know for this exchange and will not pay you for the job," she bit her bottom lip.

"Custom leather boots are not negotiable," Luey said before releasing his side of the chest. "You owe us that much for the trouble of getting these. I would never have let Dion accept this job if I'd known."

Okay, now he might take it too far. I'm an adult thank you very much and can make my own stupid mistakes. By human standards, I’m an elder. Not that it made me any smarter, but Luey didn't have to rip the bandage off of my pride that quick.

“Uh, Luey, I agreed to it. You don't have a say in what I agree or disagree too,” a simple argument that started and ended as he turned to look at me. No way I‘d be stupid enough to continue when he gave me that look. “Even if you refused, you don't control what jobs I accept or not. It's my choice. You might be my friend Luey, but you are not my keeper.”

My mouth beat my brain to the punch.

“You're right on that account, but as a friend, I wouldn’t let you accept,” Luey said, his voice softening to a father-like tone. “It is something that humans shouldn’t touch or worry over.”

"So what are they?"

"That is not important," he reached into his pocket before bringing out a few gold coins to hand to me. "Go get your boots."

I was not a child. Luey looking so worried that it made me scared. Not trembling in my boots scared, more ancient curse fear. I'd handled dangerous items before, things that almost killed me, and yet he basically forbid me to touch one. His eyes looked at my own, his stony features standing firm and immovable.

Taking the gold I left to find the cobbler.

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papal-babygirl · 7 years

Text

hey remember this

i gave it a cheeky edit

there’s more gay

enjoy

The Wooing of Hugh Haussler (by one Mason Sukenaga)

The bulb on the clockwork spider clamped around Mason’s wrist started blinking rapidly, the signal that he had been told meant that non-essential personnel such as himself were able to board the RAS Memento. Non-essential personnel. He had been grouped with the non-essential personnel. He was the only doctor he had been told about on the ship for thousands of men and women working on it, and he was getting on after the skinny little things likely lying about their age that crawled about the rigging to keep the ship in the air and patch the balloon.

He wasn’t going to be bitter about it. That would take far too much effort, and he had much better things to do, like getting on the ship and immediately digging out the ginger tablets he had brought all the way from home and having as many as was safe to combat the airsickness. It was shocking what a doctor like him was willing to put up with for good pay and a place to sleep.

He waved his chest off to a couple of far stronger looking men, looking over them with the guise of keeping an eye on his delicate medical equipment, but he knew better then to lie to himself. Mason knew what he was doing. After a while he averted his gaze and pretended to look over the Memento, the windsocks on the dock fluttering gaily in the wind, and the people around him who he supposed were also these ‘non-essential personnel’.

“— Moira, dear, you can’t go on and on about what a waste of money this land purchase was when we’re about to board the newest ship commissioned by it. On an expedition to explore said purchase.” A man’s voice said behind Mason.

“And why can’t I? They shouldn’t buy land they don’t know a damn thing about.” A woman responded. Mason was starting to get curious, and he tried to move just a bit closer to the two.

“Just… please, for me, stay calm for the first day. Let everyone settle in before you shake it all up.” The man chuckled and it set such an odd little flutter going in Mason’s heart that he had to turn around. It was a mistake, in some ways, because a god must’ve decided to come down to earth and grace Mason with his presence here and now. Perfect sun bleached hair, a tan that complimented the rest of his rugged appearance and, well, Mason would never admit to admiring his physique, but his clothes were tailored exquisitely.

He ended up just gaping at the man for a few seconds, causing him to laugh again, and oh, it was even more beautiful when he could see the dimples and the smile pulling at his eyes.

“Can I help you, sir?” The man said, the smile still tinging his voice.

“I, ah, I just couldn’t help but overhear you and I…” God, if he could just think of something intelligent to say, “I’m just going to ask you leave my shaking up till I get used to the turbulent air, because till then that’ll be all the shaking up I can handle.” Moira smiled and clapped him on the shoulder, making him jump a little.

“I can respect that.” She nodded, “Besides, if I change everyone’s mind, includin’ the captain, there won’t be much shaking up to do. Be smooth sailing from there.” The man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Excuse her.” He gingerly reached out and plucked the arm off of Mason’s shoulder. “I’m Hugh, by the way, and if you see her roaming around the ship with a fiery look on her face, I’m sure to be close behind.” Mason smiled back at the man— Hugh, he reminded himself— and turned away, a silent and familiar panic rising in his chest.

Hugh had called Moira darling. He’d always be close behind her. The ease they moved around each other. Of course. Mason should have seen it earlier.

He didn’t have a chance.

Mason, as it turned out, was not the only doctor on the ship. He was the most experienced, but he had a young woman just out of school and three nurses to assist him. What that meant for him, at least till the other doctor found her bearings, was that he was the one who got sent out with the exploration missions.

With Hugh.

And Moira.

The mornings were gray, usually, and the clouds settled amongst the tops of the trees and rose from the mud of the swamps, and Mason was blearily awoken by the leader of the party. He had to pack before the sun was properly up, and more than once he nearly wounded himself with his own surgical tools.

It wasn’t the worst thing, getting to explore the Republic’s new purchase, and see a world new to all their eyes. It had the added benefit of Hugh excitedly taking note on every bird call and footprint he found, sometimes imitating the former to see if he could gain a response from the birds. Most days involved him instructing people to collect samples where they could and far more stern instructions to stay with someone at all times. Yes, all of the crew had a way of communication, the clockwork spider they were issued with before boarding could transmit Morse messages, but it was just better to have someone to watch your back.

Mason, it seemed, always happened to end up with Hugh and Moira. He would have felt it was on purpose were it not for the amount of time they spent talking, her going on about botany as Hugh did much the same. It was almost unbearable. When invited to the captain’s table to provide educated conversation, it was fine, even intriguing at times, but this was blatant, unrestrained giddiness, and it got very old very quickly. Especially when Hugh was not sharing that enthusiasm with Mason. He would have found it endearing then.

Instead he nearly bounced around Moira, and she did much the same. They would make little jabs at the other, offhand comments that left them both laughing gaily. Mason trailed behind, avoiding anything that looked even the littlest bit suspicious. He was not going to be the one getting ill from this expedition if he could help it. Plenty of other people had started to get some mild but persistent cough, and he was doing all he could to prevent catching it. The ship needed him to stay well. It was why it was such a mystery that he got sent out instead of someone just as capable at applying bandages as he was, which was about all he was doing out here anyways. Occasionally he’d be pulled from his thoughts by a blinking bulb on his wrist, a short message that called for his aid, and he’d have to distract the couple so that he could go help. Wouldn’t want to get caught alone in the forest.

He lead then, just thinking of the fact that dinner would be far more pleasant, even if Hugh and Moira sat next to each other. Hugh always did make the effort to give him a chance to speak, and watched intently every time. Moira would play with her ring and stare wistfully at it, clearly trying to follow the medical talk. And then, just like that, dinner would end, and they’d all split off, Hugh and Moira going down to the hold to catalogue and study their samples. Together, as usual.

Mason would be left to tend to the infirmary, without a partner of his own. At least the nurses were nice, and he was growing to rather like the younger doctor. She was bold, and thought she knew all the answers, but to her credit she often did know what she was doing, and Mason rarely found cause to dispute with her.

It could never be what he wanted.

They’d been in the air three months.

They’d weaved in and out amongst the new land, finding small towns to dock at and resupply before their later journey out further.

It was late, and the lamp had started to sputter and run out of oil. Mason hadn’t gone back to his quarters; he was still in the dark infirmary with only the smallest bubble of light surrounding him at his desk. No one was here overnight, no one for him to be vigilant over. The nurses had all been dismissed, and he’d just be here himself if anything happened. It had been quiet since then. He’d heard tell of some event happening tonight on deck, but it wasn’t the subject of conversation at his particular table. According to Captain Fordham, they didn’t speak of such banal matters.

Either way, he didn’t mind missing out. That much. He had brought an ungodly amount of books, and any time he could find a shop while they were docked he purchased more, sometimes selling off ones he’d lost interest in. So now he waited in the infirmary, buried in his book. Until, finally, a knock startled him nearly out of his chair.

Mason wasn’t sure if his eyes were playing tricks on him, and in the light they very well could, but it seemed to be Hugh at the door. In a rush he snatched up the lamp and nearly threw open the door, only finding restraint when he remembered that desperation would get him nowhere. This was an aimless infatuation. It simply had to be.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Haussler?” Mason straightened his waistcoat, now painfully aware of his coat laying across the back of his chair. God’s wounds, he was destined to make a fool of himself in front of this man every time they were alone.

“How formal.” Hugh laughed, a sound that made a small and treacherous fire light in Mason’s chest. “Do you… have the night shift or are you free to leave?”

“I’m here in case anything happens. Why do you ask?”

Hugh shrugged casually. “It’s just that the entirety of the ship, more or less, is currently on deck for the festival.”

“Festival?” Mason asked. That must’ve been what he’d heard about earlier, but he wasn’t aware of something like a festival happening this time of year. The Republic was a big place, though, and he wouldn’t entirely consider himself an expert on its customs.

“Ah, you must not spend a lot of time on airships.” Mason shook his head, squinting and leaning forward.

“No, Mr. Haussler, I do not.” The flame flickered a bit between them, gusts of wind finding their way between the two men.

“It’s more a custom than a festival, but on impeccably clear nights like tonight, captains have been known to give their crew a night off. And I just so happened to notice one Dr. Sukenaga was absent from such festivities. They seemed to lack a certain refinement only one man I know possesses.” Hugh’s tone got a bit stilted and formal, clearly taking a jab at Mason, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care when Hugh was smiling. It was really quite embarrassing.

Hugh had remembered him. Missed him, even. It wasn’t unthinkable, Hugh was often found at the captain’s table as the esteemed naturalist he was, and Hugh definitely knew who he was, but still… this was momentous in Mason’s eyes.

“Is this my invitation?” Mason asked, a small smile finding its way onto his lips. Hugh smiled again, broad and bright and absolutely negating the need for a lamp.

“Consider it so.” Mason wasted no time in throwing on his coat and extinguishing the lamp, locking the door behind him as they made their way to the deck.

There were lanterns hung amongst the rigging of the ship, complementing the stars as the ship drifted along at a slow and even pace, and Mason had the distinct sense that he was suspended in mid-air with nothing beneath him, floating there alone in the sky. He stood there, rooted to the spot and watching the elaborate dance happening in front of him. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen on the ground, and he couldn’t even think to move till Hugh shoved a glass into his hand and pulled him over, leaning on the railing of the deck.

“You might want to watch a bit before joining in.” Hugh said over the din of the music coming from a triad of people with beat up looking instruments that shouldn’t have been able to make the music sound as good as it did.

“Oh, I don’t… I don’t make a habit of dancing.” Mason stared down into his drink, something light and frothy, and took a cautious sip of it. It was definitely alcohol, but it went down easy, and Mason was surprised he’d never had any in his time on the ship. Perhaps they only had it at events like this.

“Well, then, I suppose you’ll just let Moira and I have all the fun.” Hugh laughed and clapped him on the back, something he should be used to by now, but it still made Mason jump.

“It was what I intended to do.” Mason said affably, but he was dreading having to watch the couple dance together.

Moira came over crowing their names, a bit flushed in the face. She pulled Hugh into an embrace, and Mason spotted the ring on her finger as she did, gold band shining in the lantern light. “You’re back!” She said, a bit too loud, taking Hugh’s hand and leading him out to the dance. He cast a glance back at Mason, which Mason returned with a sympathetic smile and a wave. He would be fine. Really.

Mason stood there, drinking as the pair spun together in the dance he still couldn’t figure out by the end of the night. Everyone stumbled to their quarters or posts to keep the ship on its course and Mason stood there still, on his six or seventh glass, he couldn’t remember. He watched Hugh and Moira navigate their way down the stairs, arms around each other’s waists for support and raucously laughing as they gingerly made their way back to their quarters. Mason didn’t move till they were gone.

Another month went by, and they had all but stopped making progress across the land, instead landing at the edges of forests and mires and coming back with samples of the wildlife— sometimes unrecognizable creatures that took half a dozen men to haul into the keep because of their size. Hugh went out with them almost every time, and every morning, Mason would watch the parties go out, and scan for Hugh amongst them. He was easily found, standing out amongst the black-clad crew members of the ship in his almost garish khaki. Mason found it endearing nonetheless.

Every evening, he’d watch them come back and he would find Hugh again, drinking in the sight of him in the distance with a rifle slung over his back. It was shameless, but the nurses let him have his moment. Sure, he lied about it easily and claimed it was to see if anyone was hurt so he could get them on the ship quickly, but they let him have the moment nonetheless. His days were filled with patching up cuts and scrapes and finding remedies for the ailments that were foreign to all of them. It began to wear on him.

He gave himself the night off, trusting the nurses to take care of things through the night. He was holed up in his room, reading, as he always did, with about half a bottle less of the sake he brought from home. Mason was finding some ignorance at the bottom of a glass, trying to forget that he hadn’t seen Hugh at the captain’s table since they’d started properly exploring the Republic, seeing as he instead chose to regale the crew (and Moira) with the tales of the beasts he’d bested.

Mason stared blankly at the book, words not registering as having any meaning. Perhaps he should just sleep, let the now comforting sway of the ship lull him. His pocketwatch told him it wasn’t even particularly late, as did the occasional person passing outside his door, but he saw no reason to sit here and wallow. He almost ignored the knock at his door, but figured it was likely a nurse who needed his help, and he knew well that a night off was rather a nebulous concept for a doctor. Mason scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to look presentable and likely failing as he slid the door open, finding the very man he had found himself obsessing over. Again.

What luck he had.

“Yes?” Manners had gone out the door the second he opened it.

“I ah, I…” Hugh straightened his vest, just as form fitting as the day Mason had seen him. “I realized tonight that it had been nearly a month since I’d sat with you- the captain, I mean, and I… did not realize how much I enjoyed… that company till I did not have it.” Hugh wrung his hands nervously and stared past Mason, obviously taking in his quarters.

Mason swallowed down every bitter thing that he had to say, not now, not when Hugh had come to him asking to spend time together. This was what he wanted, wasn’t it? “Well, so far I’ve had the night off, and am thinking it is likely to continue being a night off and you’re welcome to join me. Not that I was doing… much of anything.” He probably looked like a mess. It had been a long day, a long week, even. But when he stepped aside to let him in, Hugh smiled that blinding smile that Mason swore could make anyone fall in love. Perhaps he didn’t look too awful.

He poured Hugh a glass of his sake and then another as the night wore on. They started off with Hugh excitedly telling Mason about the creatures he’d seen, and Mason found that Hugh had a sympathetic ear for venting the struggles of trying to care for a whole crew of people in all but uncharted territory. As Mason kept talking, he spoke of home, his real home, Taiyō, and he barely noticed how enraptured Hugh looked till he paused for thought.

If he didn’t know better he’d have said it was a look of love.

It threw him off guard, his head swimming ever so slightly. Hugh was thumbing at the lip of his glass and staring up at him intensely, and Mason felt heat rise to his cheeks. The spell was only broken when Hugh looked away to take another sip of the drink.

“Why did you come to the Republic, then?” Hugh asked quietly, trying to start the conversation back up again.

“My mother was born here. I came back, in a way. And frankly, I knew the way to make a life out of being a doctor was getting out of Taiyō. It’s not that the medicine there doesn’t work, or isn’t valid, it’s that no one over here trusts it. Here is where the money is. I’m sure you can appreciate why I went with the more... empirically validated field.” Hugh hummed in agreement. “And you, what brings you to this shining Republic?” There was a hefty dose of sarcasm in his voice as he knocked back the last dregs of his sake, setting the glass down.

“Same as anyone else, I suppose. Same as you. Money. The promise of a safe and happy life.” He stared down at the clear sake, swirling it a bit. “Don’t know if I’ve gotten there yet.”

“You have Moira.”

“I do. She means the world to me, and yet… I still feel unfulfilled.” He looked up at Mason with that same look, one that shook him to his very core. It rooted him to the spot and gave him a sickening amount of hope that Hugh could ever mean that about him.

There wasn’t enough alcohol on the ship to drown that hope out.

Something had gone wrong. Something had gone horribly wrong. The expedition party came back in just an hour after leaving, with significantly fewer numbers and the worst of it was Hugh. Three other people rushed him into the ship and moved him to the closed off surgery theater as quickly as possible. More people trickled in after him, and the nurses flitted about caring for all the wounds, setting bone and mending flesh.

All Mason could focus on was Hugh. The three that brought him in had a grave look in their eye, as if they knew theirs was a hopeless endeavor. Hugh’s pulse was weak, and they’d hardly managed to stop the blood flow from his wounds. Three savage gashes in his side were wrapped up with some cloth that was now sticky with blood. Mason had never worked faster in his life, sewing up the wounds and bandaging them, keeping an eye on Hugh’s breath and his pulse. Both were shallow and fluttering, but there.

Then they were not. Mason couldn’t find a pulse and there was no breathing. He couldn’t give up. This was not how this would end. In a flurry he was barking out orders for the nurses to bring him different chemicals, something, anything to help restart Hugh’s heart. A scrap of training came to him with a wave of adrenaline, some offhand manual way to help his breathing, his heart, and he didn’t stop to consider the fact that his professors had never said how well this worked. It had to. The injections couldn’t do it alone.

After what felt like an interminable amount of time forcing air into Hugh’s lungs and trying to restart his heart from the outside, Mason was almost forced with the reality of defeat. He kept going, though, almost out of principle. The injections hadn’t done much. Or so Mason thought.

He had just pulled back from trying to get Hugh to breathe when he did so on his own, a gasping breath that shook the both of them to their core. Hugh’s eyes were a bit glazed over, but they were moving as his breath picked up, his pulse as well. Mason felt ready to cry, and he was certain he would later when there weren’t people all around. Hugh let out a wheezy chuckle, arm limply coming to grasp at Mason’s bloody forearm.

“I don’t know whether to kiss you or sob, Doctor.” Hugh sighed out the words as Mason gratefully accepted a rag from one of the nurses before she rushed back out to assist the other doctor.

“Well, you have somewhat done the former. Instructors always called it the kiss of life.” Mason scrubbed at the blood, wanting the stain of it off his hands.

Hugh laughed again, a soft noise with a smile that barely curled the edges of his mouth. “And what if I said I wanted to kiss you while I was awake to remember it?”

Mason froze, midway through getting blood from underneath his nails. He looked up to Hugh, and he was smirking as much as a man who’d just had a brief conversation with Death could. He couldn’t be serious. He looked it, but he couldn’t be. Mason had to say something.

“I… if that is something you want, I would be agree-“ Mason was cut off by Hugh grabbing the back of his neck and surging up to meet him halfway, lips crashing together. It seemed he was serious. Mason sighed into the kiss, dropping the rag to support Hugh’s torso as he sat up further and further, something he shouldn’t have been doing with stiches. Never mind that, Mason could tell him so later. Now, he was getting everything he’d wanted for months.

Moira. Her name jumped into Mason’s mind and he pulled back suddenly, careful to not just drop Hugh in his shock. Hugh’s eyes were blown and his brow furrowed.

“Not good?”

“This isn’t right. What about your- what about Moira?” Hugh stared at him for a second before smiling weakly.

“That woman is like my sister, Mason.” It wasn’t the first time Hugh had called him by his first name, but it was the first time it had sounded so soft. Hugh reached up with a shaky hand to cup Mason’s cheek. “I love her deeply, but not in the way you seem to think. We practically grew up together. And besides, she has someone back home, even if I cared for her in that way I couldn’t be with her. There’s only one person I care for like that on this ship and I am looking right at him.”

“I… you…” Mason just stopped before he made a fool of himself, though that must have been the man Hugh fell for, because he seemed to only make a fool of himself when Hugh was around. “You are?”

“I am.” And Hugh kissed him again, and thankfully, not for the last time.

#writingandrants #i love my boys #my writing

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aterimber · 5 years

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How Wild It Was (To Let It Be)

“Hello boys.”

Shit, Sam turned as the Scot. popped into the room, stepping in front of his brother so he could continue picking the lock.

“What are you doing here?”

“I assume you know what I want?”

Sam scoffed and reached inside his jacket for the angel blade, “The only way we’d ever give you the tablet, is if we were dead.”

The shorter man peered around the brunette to the man kneeling on the floor, unamused, “Squirrel, I know your brother is big, but I can still see you.”

Sam held the blade out in front of him and took a step forward, “Leave.”

Crowley huffed and rolled his eyes, “May I speak with the competent one please?”

“The only reason we kept you alive,” the giant took another step closer and straightened to his full height, “was because you were useful. I’d suggest, shutting up before you wear out your welcome.”

“Moose, why don’t you let the grown-ups talk for a while, yeah?”

Sam flinched at the snap of his fingers, but upon not hearing anything snap, he smirked and went to continue. His eyes bulged as no sound came out, he tried again but still nothing. The brunette opted for crossing his arms and glaring at the Scot.

Dean finally turned around, and got up off the floor, taking in his brothers’ bitchface before turning to the demon, “Really? You’re stealing voices now? Who are you, Ursula?”

“Give me, what I want,” the shorter man closed the gap between them, eyes locked on the blonde, “or you won’t get a chance to regret it.”

With that, he disappeared.

“Dick,” Dean shook his head and turned to his brother, “you okay?”

Sam nodded, “Let’s head back to the motel,” he shouldered their duffle bags before heading toward the exit.

“We’re just gonna abandon this?” Dean gestured to the door he’d been working on.

“We can deal with that later,” he threw one of the duffle bags at him, “I need a shower.”

“Finally,” Sam ran straight to the bathroom, tossing his duffle onto one of the beds.

“Don’t take forever in there, Samantha. Some of us actually got dirty,” Dean shut the door behind them and headed to the fridge.

Sam flipped him off before locking the door behind him. A second later, Dean heard the water turn on. He padded over to the table and plopped himself down in the chair before twisting the cap off and taking a swig of beer. He sighed and closed his eyes, finally. He relaxed for all of five seconds before he heard the water turn back off and the bathroom door open.

Sam popped his head out the door, “What was up with that?”

Dean sighed and put his beer down, “What was up with what, Sammy?”

“Crowley,” he heard his brother take a few steps out into the room.

“How should I know?”

“I don’t think he was talking about the tablet.”

“Okay, and?”

“And doesn’t that seem suspicious to you? That means he’s not after the tablet.”

Just once, can he let something go? The blonde ran a hand down his face, “I repeat; and?”

“Well, don’t you think that if there is something else he’s after we should, I don’t know, be looking for it?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you think it could be?”

“I don’t know, Sammy,” Dean opened his eyes and turned to his brother, “It could be a lot of things. It could be nothing. We can’t sit around all day and wonder ‘what if we missed something’ every time someone accuses us of having something we don’t.”

Sam looked taken aback and raised his hands in mock surrender, “Okay, okay, jeez. I just thought it was something worth mentioning. What crawled up your ass?”

The eldest sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “Nothing… I’m just covered in sweat and cobwebs and dirt from the grave we dug earlier and I’d rather not have this conversation right now.”

“I just think-”

“Sam, it’s Crowley. He likes screwing with us, remember?”

The brunette gave his brother a skeptical look but kept his mouth shut. He walked the few steps back to the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

“Where’s your brother?”

“He’s out on a food run,” Dean got up from the table and threw his empty beer in the trash.

Crowley looked around the room and took a few steps closer to the hunter, “You know why I’m here?”

“Yeah, I know why,” Dean walked forward, meeting the demon halfway, no more than a few inches away from him.

“Good,” he smiled, “then you’ll give me what I want?”

The blonde grabbed the front of his suit and swung him around into the wall, slamming him hard into it before getting close enough to smell the whisky on his breath. The demon let out a startled cry and struggled uselessly against his grip.

“You think, that just because you showed up, I’d give you what you wanted?”

Crowley blinked in surprise and stammered mutely for a minute.

“Because if you did,” he leaned impossibly closer, “you’d be right.”

In the next instant, the demon felt the Winchesters’ lips on his own. The hunter pressed his body against him, squishing him harder into the wall, pulling a deep moan from the demon.

The blonde stepped back, letting him fall to the ground, panting and smirked down at him.

“Wh-what was that?”

Dean didn’t respond, instead opting to take him by the collar again and drag him back to his feet, turning him around before letting him stumble out of reach.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Crowley’s shocked look only made the hunter’s smile grow wider, as he closed the distance again, “Won’t Moose be back soon?”

“We’ve got time,” Dean pushed the demon backward and he felt his back hit the bed.

Crowley gaped at him, “I don’t think-”

“Shut up.”

Crowley eased himself up the bed, trying to put distance between himself and the hunter, but didn’t respond. Dean smiled before crawling onto the bed after him.

“Squirrel-”

“This,” he cut the demon off, before getting onto his knees, undoing his belt, “is for what you did to Sammy.”

“Sam, go get me pie.”

“I don’t want to get you pie.”

“Damn it Sam! I need pie!”

“Well, maybe I don’t want to go out in this freezing-ass weather for pie!” he slammed his fist down on the dashboard as he pulled into the parking lot.

Stupid Dean, he got out of the car and headed for the store.

“C’mon Sam, he just wanted some pie.”

“Jesus!” the hunter jumped at the sudden voice.

He noticed a few customers jump at his outburst, rolling his eyes before walking faster.

“Why’re you so jumpy? It’s just me,” the fallen angel smirked as he followed him in.

“Well excuse me for not being used to you yet,” he grumbled as he picked up a basket.

He raised an eyebrow at the frown on the angels’ face.

“We’re not getting a cart?”

“We don’t need one, I’m only getting one thing.”

“But,” the blonde turned his gaze to the floor, poking out his bottom lip, “I want to ride in it.

“Get one yourself then,” he began walking away.

“I can’t be in it and push it around!”

“Guess you’re not getting one then,” he called over his shoulder.

“Please, Sam?”

Sam stopped dead and turned around, eyes wide, did he really just…?

“Please?”

He nodded and watched as the fallen angels’ face lit up before he bounced over to the nearest cart, plopping himself inside, ear-splitting grin on his face. Sam made his way over, putting the basket back down before grabbing the cart. Sam gave his happy expression a once over and chuckled.

Lucifer turned himself around so he was facing the hunter, “What?”

“Nothing, you just look pretty happy in a cage,” he started toward the bakery.

Luce looked at the cart on either side of himself before winking at the hunter, “I am.”

“A-are you sure,” Crowley panted, turning to face Dean, “that that was because I took away your brothers’ voice?”

“Okay, you caught me,” the blonde smirked and stretched himself out with a yawn, “not all of that was payback for Sam. But the handcuffs and chilli pepper was.”

Crowley shook his head and chuckled, “I had a feeling.”

“What? I can be creative.”

“Not that creative, darling. That was more… pain than pleasure.”

“You still seemed to enjoy it.”

“Of course I enjoyed it,” he shot the hunter a sly smile before slipping out of bed, “I am a demon, after all.”

Dean propped himself up on one elbow, eyes roaming over the bruises and scrapes that littered his back. He chewed his lip for a minute, turning over the question in his head before finally nodding to himself, “This is what you were asking for, right?”

Crowley stopped, pants halfway up his legs and turned, raising an eyebrow at the hunter, “Did we not just establish some of that was new territory?”

“No,” the hunter sat up, “I mean, when you popped in on me and Sam at the house… You said you wanted us to give you something. I was assuming you meant this, but if there’s another tablet or relic out there we need to-”

“Uh-uh,” Crowley picked up his suit jacket, flicking it out before slipping it on, “Nothing you need to concern yourself with, darling.”

“Crowley,” Dean got up off the bed, “Did you find something else?”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head,” the demon turned, straightening the lapels of his suit with a smile, “You boys are going after exactly what you should be.”

The hunter eyed him for a moment, trying to get a read on him – which after being at odds with each other for literal years and sleeping together the passed few months – was still next to impossible, when he heard the Impala pull into the driveway.

His eyes shot to the window, watching the headlights stream in through the closed blinds, “You should-” he cut himself off as he turned back and found himself in an empty room.

Sam came in the door, dopey smile wiped off his face and he covered his nose with his free hand, “Jeez, dude!” He made his way over to the small table in the corner, nodding toward the elders’ bed, “Guess now I know why you were so desperate to get rid of me.”

“You were only gone fifteen minutes,” Dean ran a hand through his hair as he approached his brother, snatching the bag of food from him, “What kind of a chump do you think I am?”

Sam gave his brother a pointed look, “Just… put a sock or something on the door next time.”

“Hey!” Dean pouted as his burger was ripped from his hands, “What the hell?”

The youngest pulled his t-shirt over his nose, “Dude, seriously.”

Dean rolled his eyes before getting up from the table, making his way over to the bathroom. Once inside, he sniffed himself, nearly gagging, okay, maybe he was right. He turned the water on and began to strip, guess that’s what happens when you use food.

“Not quite.”

The voice made the hunter jump and spin around, surprised to see the demon perched on the toilet seat, “Are you crazy? Sam is right outside!”

Crowley smirked, getting up to pat his face, “Oh Squirrel, still so much to learn.”

“Will you keep your voice down?”

“That sweet, sulphuric stench,” he continued, taking a few steps forward, forcing the hunter toward the shower, “Is what happens when you fuck a demon.”

#spn #spn fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #short story #writing #fanfic friday #Sam Winchester #Dean Winchester #Crowley #Crown #DeanxCrowley #slash fiction #Hallucifer

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