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darylsgirl · 3 years

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I was claimed by Daryl Fucking Dixon NSFW 18+ Daryl Dixon & Reader

Summary:

Your sick of waiting for Daryl to make a move or even speak to you and decide to dress up to do your chores hoping you’ll catch his eye.

You manage more than that He gets jealous when other men/ and one woman ;) show an interest and he admits he’s wanted you all this time an roughly claims you.

*Heyyy to anyone who reads this! If anyone reads this Haha, This is my first ever attempt at fan fic and it kind of got away from me and is a lot more intense than i thought it would be! If there’s anything you don’t like about this please feel free to tell me! I’d love to improve for my next one :) Hope y’all are having a great day wherever you are :)*

How long had it been? Since the end of it all?

Since all those carefree nights we used to stay up drink, party & Fuck.

Months? Years?

It felt like all time stood still when He found me.

I was alone, Terrified & hiding in an abandoned liquor store when I heard them, I Snuck to the window and saw the biggest herd of walkers I had ever seen. I made sure all the bottle’s i had scavenged were wrapped up in my clothes to dampen the noise and waited for a break in the herd so I could make a run for it to my bike just across the road. After what felt like hours there it was my chance i put my hand on the door handle but before I was even able to twitch the handle, I felt a hand clamp over my mouth and drag me backwards away from my chance of escape.

“Fuck you think your doin girl, Tryna get yourself eaten!” I stared up at the man before me with his hand still over my mouth. His angry eyes met mine and I stopped fighting gazing up into those piercing blue eyes. That was the last thing I saw before the pistol came down on my temple.

I woke with a bag over my head and my wrists bound, I was in a car and I could hear the engine stopping and the brakes kicking in ‘Shit’ . I thought I had no time to think of a way out of this. Two doors slammed shut and I could hear two men arguing.

“Answer me, Fuck did you hit her for Merle. She’s only a girl she couldn’t av ‘urt us, She looked me in ma eyes. There was no fight just fear”

“Bitch had it comin Daryl, Tryna kill hersel and take us with her”

“Did’n even no we were there, Or are you that shit of a hunter yous unable to sneak up on people naw, Stop being an asshole and get the fuck outta ma way”

The car boot opened and someone lifted me out by putting a hand under my knees and one under my head cradling me, he held me tightly with my head in his chest. I inhaled and could smell his manly scent, It was intoxicating, He held me for a moment more before he set on my feet; next the bag was ripped off my face. Instinctively I winced waiting to see if the light would blind me but all was still dark around and i could see we were in a forest. The man with the mesmerising eyes gripped my arm and started walking me into the woods.

A logical person would feel fear at this point but there was something about those eyes, I just trusted him.

“Got a lil way’s to go, ya ok walkin? Or you need me to carry you rest of the ways?” His southern drawl mixed with those blue eyes made my knees go weak. I stumbled slightly then stood again and kept one foot in front of the other. I nodded to the man that I was ok and kept going.

Fifteen minutes later we arrived at the edge of a camp, A few people rushed forward “Shit what happened to her?” “Has she been bit?” “Why is her head covered in blood?” “Where did you find her?”

Daryl rolled his eyes and replied “Merle, No she aint, Merle again annnd liquor store.” He said the last answer with a smirk.

I scowled at the pair and dropped my mouth open to throw a few choice words their way when I was stopped by Merle grabbing me and spinning me round to face him, He moved some hair out of my face, fingers lingering near my mouth and said.

“Girl looks mighty fine to me, Pretty face not messed up, not one bit! And I do love me a pretty face sweetheart” he winked at me moving his hand from my mouth to my throat he pulled me close to him wrapping his other arm around my back to pull our pelvises close together so I could feel his growing erection against my stomach. “How about it honey” He said winking again

I drew my head back with the intention of smashing his nose, When we were tackled to the floor Merle was pulled away from me and i rolled onto my back and back on to my feet, I looked back at the two brothers and saw Daryl’s hand smashing into his brothers face whilst he was shouting “I’ll mess up your face you asshole”

Daryl was dragged off Merle by two men, Merle got to his feet and laughed “It’s allllll good baby bro, I’ll forget about this, this time. I know how feral you get when you see a pussy you wanna claim.”

Daryl locked eyes with me as Merle said this then spat at the ground at Merle’s Feet He picked up his crossbow off the ground and stormed off towards the woods shouting “Man forget ya, I had enough of your shit for one night” over his shoulder.

That was months ago now, That night the group took me in and took care of me and I took care of them. We moved from the original camp to the CDC then a farm and now we are in a prison in Georgia. The prison has been good to us so far, there was that run in with a crazy guy who called himself the governor and we lost a few of our family. But we persevered and built this place into a home and soon started bringing in new people to help run our home and join our family.

In the time i had been with this group i had noticed there were a lot of frustrated people here, Especially the men, I can’t get through a day without some proposition or another. I also can’t say that I didn't enjoy the attention, It had been awhile since I had felt another's hands on my body and I craved it, I craved it more than air at times and the person I craved it the most from had decided to pretend I didn't exist. But that didn’t stop me from going to bed each night with my wandering hands and relieving my aching pussy with the thoughts of his hands exploring my body and that voice groaning in my ear. Hit the spot every time.

There had been a few men that had caught my attention but after a few conversations and meet ups with each they all started to pretend i didn’t exist the same as he had. I didn’t even get so much as a kiss from any of the fuckers and when i decided to confront them and ask why they refused to tell me and walked away.

It had hit summer here and i had hit my breaking point, I’d had enough of being passed over and wasn’t going to take this shit anymore, I was going to make them all regret not taking me up on the opportunity when it was there for the taking.

I woke early for my shift in the fields the next morning, Still thoroughly determined to set my plan in motion I grabbed my knife and a set of clothes and set to work. I cut most of the legs off my jeans and the sleeves from my Tartan shirt. I pulled the jean shorts on and folded the legs over so they became tighter and pushed my already perky ass up. I then pulled my shirt on forgoing the usual under shirt and tied the two sides closed in a knot above my belly button so my slim waist was on display. I buttoned one button above the knot so that not too much of my bra was showing; Turning it from slutty to sexy. I pulled on my best brown cowboy boots. Combed my hair out. I was very lucky to have thick wavy hair that rarely required me doing anything with it. I just let it dry and brush, I grabbed Maggie’s make up bag and applied a small amount of make up just to accentuate my natural features.Smiling at myself in the mirror this was perfect, Let's see that southern shit ignore me now. Or any of the others for the matter.

I sauntered out of my cell into the main block and walked the long way through the middle of everyone taking extra care to have a bounce in my step to make my boobs bounce nicely and swayed my hips more to make my ass jiggle as I walked. I greeted everyone in the same way i usually would with cheery “Good Morning’s” Instantly i felt eyes roaming my body and not just the male’s which made me grin I was happy either way. A few let out low whistles and I winked in return. This felt great. I want to feel this way every day, my pussy had soaked my panties by the time I had made it out of the block and into the yard I was panting with need.

I took a few minutes to calm my breathing before continuing out towards the field, I glanced at the guard tower to make sure he was here today keeping watch, When i saw his leather vest and his longish wavy hair my breath quickened again, Shit it was going to be hard to get through today without a little relief, It took everything i had not to rush up the guard tower and beg him for it, Instead i continued over to the field, waiting until i was in his vision before looking up smiling and waving. Sure enough there he was binoculars in his hand staring down at me. I grinned again, wiggled my fingers at him and sauntered away from the tower.

Luck was with me today and I was set to work on the potatoes which were planted in a perfect view of the guard house. I made sure to always face the tower when just sitting working so he had the frontal view and when I needed to bend up or down I turned my back to him so he got a great view of my ass. Everything I did that day I made sure to find some way to make it sexier. More than a few men came to bring me water or talk to me that day i gave each of them a big grin, Laughed and put my hand on their arms and send them on their way enough to make them feel there could be a chance, I felt Fucking powerful.

At the end of the day i saw Maggie making her way over to me with a backpack over her shoulder, “Y/N I gots you a gift” she said in a sing song voice “from Merle of all people” she laughed and pulled out two big bottles of Merle’s special moonshine “I guess someone saw your production today sugar” She giggled a bit more handed you a bottle and settled down on the grass next to you.

Daryl

Ever since Merle and me brought Y/N back to the group with us she’s been a literal pain in my pants, I'm surprised my cock was even capable of a hard on at this point as it feels like it hasn't gone down in months. So far i have managed to stay away from her as i wasn’ gonna let no bitch get the better of me and i wasn’ going to let fuckin Merle be right.

My mind wandered back to her again when i started my shift in the guard tower that morning, I considered going into the office to rub one out but decided i'd be on the balcony waiting, I always made sure i got the shifts in this tower when she was being put in the fields, Watching her sweating down there in the heat was good enough to get me off later in the night when i was alone in the office. I lived out of this tower now as I liked it better alone even now with Merle being back in the prison, I didn’ need his shit talking around me at all hours. Not when I had my own entertainment.

There she was right on time to interrupt me from my thoughts, Holy shit what was she fucking wearing. I grabbed my binoculars to get a closer look, When i found her again with them she was almost fucking naked by the looks of it! In tiny shorts and an even smaller top, From this vantage point i had the best view straight in her bra, I kept my eyes on her all day fuck the perimeter it’ll be fine and i’m sure some weak ass will scream and let me know.

I watched her all day as she wiggled her hips and wiped the sweat from her chest, Turns out i wasn’t the only one watching even guys I've fuckin told before to stay away come flocking, What don’t the asshole’s understand about “i’m always fuckin watchin” by her quitting time it wasn’t just my dick that was rock hard and throbbin but also the vein in my temple that tells me i’m about to snap.

Balling my fists up i wait for her to start walking back but Maggie fuckin Greene starts walking towards her, Fuck sake. I send the next watch away and tell them ill radio to come back. I wasn’t allowing no fucker to have this view. I watched as Maggie sat down in the grass with Y/N and pulled out two large bottles. I grabbed the binoculars again. Fuckin Merle! That’s his shine if i ever saw it. Making a mental note to smack that bastard later for this. Now everyone had gone back inside it was deadly silent out here which meant their voices were carrying more than they knew and i could hear every word. I settled back down and watched the girls for a while biding my time.

Y/N

You both look at each other with a glint in your eyes, Pop the tops off your bottles and start downing it. Maggie comes up for air first. Dropping my bottle and swallowing the harsh liquid i Cheer in celebration and yell a little too loud “that Merle may be an asshole but he sure makes some good hooch”

“Sooooo ya had any bites today?” Maggie grins winking at you. “Yeah but not the one i want, He’s so fucking frustrating. I think I've noticed him watching me more today than he has the entire time i’ve known him” I sigh.

“You know he's got a huge thing for you or he wouldn’t be acting like this” Maggie Giggled. “But then who in this friggin place doesn’t especially after today! You even made my breath hitch never mind poor Glenn who had to get a shower!” “Ugh maggie he’s your guy why the hell is he looking at me!” I grimaced. She put her hand on my thigh and winked at me again “He’s got my permission, don't worry it spices things up a little” I didn’t move her hand just enjoyed the feeling of her fingers running up and down the inside of my thigh.

We both downed more of Merle’s hooch giggling and the conversation turned to a debate on the size of Daryl's dick. I lick my lips promising to tell her if I ever get my hands on it. The conversation is turning more and more heated as her hand is getting closer and closer to my throbbing core. She’s getting that close now I’m sure she can probably feel the heat coming from it. As we are getting close to the bottom of our bottles and really starting to feel the effect Maggie still with one hand on my thigh leans close to my face and whispers “He’s stayed up there watching past his shift. Let's give him something to see hmm?” As she’s finishing the end of her sentence I bridge the gap between us and meet her lips with mine. I bring my hand up to her hair and pull her closer into me, deepening the kiss Moaning into her lips.

Daryl

When the girls first started chatting i wanted to find out who they could be talkin about and punch the prick out till i heard my name and if my ears weren't already prickling up they definitely were now, He heard Y/N promise Maggie that if she sees ma dick she will tell her how big. He bites his lip and decides he’ll help her keep that promise.

He picks his binoculars back up and notices Maggie's hand running up and down Y/N’s thigh. If there were two people he thought he wouldn’t have to warn away, it would have been Glenn and Maggie and they pick a night that he’s mad as hell to change his mind about that?

He brings one hand to his aching dick giving it a few tugs through his pants to relieve some of the pressure and brings his eyes back to them just as he sees the girls lean into each other, Shit! Shit! He doesn’t know whether to run down there and interrupt finally or let them continue. Y/N pushes Maggie to lay her fully down and straddles her hips, I grabbed my radio and called for the replacement as i couldn’t take much more.

While i waited for the lazy shit to get here i watched Y/N & Maggie get even more heated and their hands exploring each other the moaning reaching me in the tower, I look to my right and see Glenn watching from behind one of the buildings hands and lower half suspiciously hidden.

Ah hell no fuck this tower! Daryl reaches over the side and grabs the pipe work swings himself over and uses it to get down quickly. As he hits the bottom his replacement is strolling over he grabs him by the scruff of his shirt blocking his view into the field. “Put ya lazy ass in that office and don’t fuckin leave till i come back and tell ya, ya can leave. Ya fuckin hear me?” I growl at him. The kid runs into the office in the tower. I spin around pretending not to see Glenn hiding there, I ran across the field towards the girls and as i reached them i let my shadow fall over them.

Y/N

From where i am lay on top of Maggie i watch as Daryl slides down the side of the watch tower and charges over to us, I smile against Maggie's lips when he gets closer i moan feeling her hand snake its way into my bra, Were both panting loudly and moaning when his shadow falls over us.

He clears his throat next thinking we hadn’t noticed him there. Maggie moves her mouth to my neck and I let out another moan but this time I raise my eyes to his and lick my bottom lip not breaking eye contact.

“Come with me...NAW” Daryl growls and grabs my arms and pulls me off and up. Maggie looks at him and pouts “oh boo Daryl always gotta ruin our fun” I wave to Maggie giggling as he starts to drag me across the field.

“What the fuck Daryl” I try to push him off my arm but his hands are unyielding. “Shut the fuck up ill deal with ya in a minute” He growls and pushes me up against the wall of a building stares longingly into my eyes then darts his arm out and smashes someone’s head into the wall. “Didn’t think id have to fuckin warn ya Glenn, Thought it was pretty fuckin obvious. Don't let me catch ya ass again” he grabs my arm again and drags me across the court yard until we reach a secluded spot, He slams my back up another wall and presses his body up against mine keeping me pinned between him and the wall.

“What you think you’ve been doing girl, Flaunting your shit all day for any man to beat his meat too?”

I squirm under his gaze, Shit i think i actually pissed him off, Definitely not the emotion i was going for!

“You think i’m gonna sit by and let tha happen?”

I find my voice, “What do you mean, You won’t let something happen. You’re not the boss of me!” you say glaring back at him, If he wants to play the pissed off game he won’t be playin it alone.

“Ya know exactly what i mean! I’ll show you who the fuckin boss Y/N” He said, pressing his hips harder into mine. I try to suppress my moan. His eye’s darken even more hearing me moan for him now.

“Who do you think told those pricks to back the fuck away from you, They wouldn’t of just left you alone on their own naw, they needed some rough persuasion Y/N”

I glare at him again and he pushes his hips back into mine again.”Ya gonna learn yet? Every time you glare at me, ill smash my dick into that dirty clit o urs” He explains with a wink.

Not knowing how to respond to that You ask “You’re the reason no man looks at me anymore? What fucking business is it of yours”

“Hell fuckin yeah i am” He says with a smirk “No one will dare ya touch you if I've claimed ya, So i did” “Naw I’ve claimed you, I’ve made it very clear if anyone touches you they’ll lose a fuckin arm” He growled

“For fuck sake Daryl! You can’t just put claims on a girl you don’t even give a fuck about” I said with a snarl.

“I give a fuck, Just didn’ want ya to know i gave a fuck, I enjoyed watchin ya squirm... but ya forced ma hand and naw... Well naw i aint gonna be gentle bout it”

You close your eyes tight, If he hadn’t of “claimed” me i would be in heaven now but learning that he’s behind your dry well makes you so mad.

“This what you were trying to get huh?” “I would of thought twice before you pulled this shit, I aint no gentle man” she breathed into her ear. His gravelly voice driving me crazy.

I look him in the eyes and shove him hard, running back to the cell block. I took a breather when i got through the door and realised he hadn’t followed me. As i was walking past the showers a hand darted out and pulled me inside.

“Woah what the fuck” I gasped as I felt a hand move over my ass and pull me against him, Jees i need to wear this outfit more often.

I was pulled into the light and saw it was Zach who had pulled me in with him, Zach was one of the ones who daryl must of scared away.

“Hey baby, Missed me?” he breathed at me. “How could i miss you zach i never got a chance to know you, You let that asshole scare you away” I said hurt

“Gimmie another chance Y/N, ill show you a good time, This could be our secret. We could have some real fun and piss that hillbilly asshole off” He squeezes me tighter to him.

“Gerrof Zach if your too pussy to pursue someone when warned of by a man I’ve only ever spoken to once then you’re not a guy i want any fucking part of”

“Awww c’mon you don’t mean that” he grips the back of my head and pushes his lips to mine i tried to fight him off be but he had too tight of a grip.

A low growl came from the doorway “I believe she said to get ya bitch ass hands off her” Zach jumped back like someone had shocked him when he heard the voice. Daryl walked forward and put his arm round my shoulder “an i believe i told ya to not even look at her again bitch” His voice gets louder “Tell me asshole what did i say i was gonna do to ya?”

H waited a moment staring at Zack “Hmm to fuckin scared to answer?” he walks forward and punches him rapidly in the face Zack goes sprawling across the shower floor. Daryl stands over him and threatens “it’ll be worse next time if you don listen to me and come near ma girl again”

Daryl turns and heads back to you and wraps his arm around your shoulders again “Bet Ya glad i claimed you now” I nod slightly. I squirm out of his arms and run back to my cell, my hooch high still buzzing in my mind. Thank god without this how could i be this brave? I smile when I get to my cell wondering how long it will take him to catch me.

I barely had time to catch my breath before i felt him, He made no noise whatsoever like a hunter closing in on his prey.Whenever he was near me it felt like my entire body was electrified and tuned only to him.

I spun around and my breath hitched in my throat at the sight of that venomous glare, He just stood and glared with his eye’s roaming every inch of you, You could feel every hair on your body standing to attention for him.

In the blink of an eye he was back in front of you again pinning you back against the wall with his hand tangled in your hair, pulling your head to the side exposing your neck.

He looks over your body panting his eyes still liquid stone, Ever glaring. I could feel the heat coming off him in waves as he studied me. His pushed his mouth next to my ear, “When i’m finished with ya, ya legs will be useless and everyone in this damn place gon know my name. An i promise you aint gon forget who’s ya are” He paused for a second staring into my eyes, “Naw take this shit off before i rip it off ya” He said pulling roughly at my shirt.

With Shaking hands i reach up and untie my shirt and push it off my shoulders, Watching his eyes grow darker as he watched. My shirt fell to the floor he grabbed the centre of my bra “All of it” He growled. I undid my bra and threw that into the corner. He looked down at my shorts seeming impatient gripped both sides and ripped them down. He came back up to me gripped my arms and pushed me further up the wall off the floor and quickly puts his legs in between mine and rests my body on them.

He reaches forcing my head to the side again and brings his mouth down to my neck kissing and biting furiously his other hand gripping my breast roughly, Earning a loud moan from me. I reached for his shirt desperate to run my hands on him, Before my hands met their mark he had gripped my wrists pinning them above my head.

“Ya don’t move, Touch or make a fuckin sound unless i say so, Ya hear?” I nodded eyes growing wide at his words. He let my feet touch the ground again and tore my underwear off, He bunched them up in his hand “Mmm look how wet these pantie’s are for me girl” “Open your mouth, Naw” I obediently complied letting him stuff them into my mouth, Dying to moan under his stare.

He stepped back and let his vest fall over his shoulders and hit the floor, He then took his shirt off and used it to bind my hands together. He stood back admiring his handiwork, I Squirmed under his lustful gaze feeling myself getting wetter by the second. I watched him slowly bring his hands to his belt unfastening it then his button and zip, His pants hit the ground and he kicked them to the side. My breath went wild when I saw him in all his glory i love a man who doesn’t wear any underwear.

He lunged forward again pulling my legs over his and wrapping leg around his hips pressing his huge dick at my entrance. It was so long and thick: my mouth started salivating instantly imagining wrapping my mouth around it.

He pulled my underwear from my mouth and growled into my ear “Scream my fucking name” as he plunged his entire length into me, The breath was forced from my lungs “shitt, Daryl!”

“Did i fuckin stutter, I said scream it” he growled again biting my neck pulling out almost of the way and plunging deep into me again. Damn did i scream this time my eyes rolling back into my head enjoying the sensation.

“Tha’s better now ride it bitch”

I felt raw already from his huge length and girth filling me like i’d never been filled before. Pulling my arms around his neck to steady myself i used him to pull myself back up and then down slowly trying to adjust to his size.

His mouth met mine in a rough eager kiss, capturing my tongue with his. He pulled his mouth back to my neck and whispered “Ya don know how long i’ve been waiting for this, Tell me how much you love my dick Y/N”

“Ahh” i cried out “so much baby so much” My eyes rolling into the back of my head still rolling my hips onto him. “Naw, Tell me who you belong to” “You” I moaned “You i belong to you daryl” I panted out.

“Louder! I want everyone in the fuckin place to know your mine”

“Oh god, Daryl, I’m yours! Only yours” I screamed

“Better” He smirked. He moved my arms from around his neck and released my hand’s from his shirt. He walked backwards with me still perched on him, His legs hit the end of the bed and he sunk down taking me with him.

“Now show me how much you love this dick”

I positioned myself better over him and sunk down to the hilt slowly savouring every glorious inch of him. My eyes shot open again moaning when my clit hit his pubic bone and i started grinding harder and faster now.

I could feel his hand’s everywhere, God i can’t believe how long i had been longing for this moment, I cried out again. He leant up on his elbows and pulled one of my nipples into his mouth nibbling, and running his nails down the inside of my thighs. The combination was pure ecstasy. I could already feel the pressure in my mound building painfully begging to be released.

He removed his mouth from me earning a sad moan from me desperate to feel his mouth on me, He looked back at my eye’s amusement on his face. He ran both hands up to my chest again gripping almost painfully. “And these, Who do they belong to Y/N?” “You baby, All yours” i breathed shakily. I was so close when he growled again “Say my fuckin name” My wall’s started constricting against him. “Ahh god, Daryll ....fuck Daryl” His eyes shone at my words. He was even more spurned on now. He flipped us over, throwing me into the bed and pulled my hips into the air ramming harder and deeper than before.

“Cum for me baby” He whispered in his incredible gravelly voice.

Those four words was all I needed to push me over the edge. Crying his name out again i felt the damn of pressure welled up in me from the moment I saw him burst open. I rode out my high as hard as i could against him, I collapsed to the bed and felt him slow down, My brain fuzzy from my incredible high. I tried pushing myself up on my elbows and my eyes caught another’s at the door.

I looked down and back up rubbing my eyes, “Shit Darryl stop!” I reached for the sheets to pull them over me. There were at least 6 men gazing in, Daryl continued unperturbed. You tried putting your hand behind you trying to push at his stomach to get his attention. He captured your arm and it around your back and pulled you up against him.

“You think I didn't know, Now tell me again who you belong to” “Daryl please!” I said trying to cover my chest. He grabbed the sheet and flung it away.

Rick spoke up from the back Your cheeks flushed horrified they had all seen you in the throws. “I think Daryl told you to do something, He doesn’t like to be kept waiting” He said with a gleam in his eyes. You gazed around the men seeing Rick, Zack, Merle, Glenn & i wasn’t sure who else grinning enjoying the show. I was suddenly unashamed as i felt the pressure build back up dangerously high.

Daryl seeing my eyes wander over the group wrapped my hair around his wrist and pushed my head back into the bed, Ramming harder and faster than i’d ever felt before making me scream again. “Say it” he shouted at me “Ahh shit im daryl’s, You claimed me baby” He replied “And no one else is going to make you feel this good again are they?”

“God no, Only you, Ahh so good!”

“Ya heard her '' He said addressing the men “She’s mine. Naw you can all fuck off back to your pits and keep your fucken hand’s to your selves asshole’s” You heard Merle hoot “wooowee you get it baby brother” You stomach turned grateful daryl had told them to leave, before his body pushed another orgasm out of you.

They all turned and left as Daryl biting my ear lobe moaned into me “Now cum again for me baby” He suddenly dove his hand under me and onto my clit.

I instantly caved again screaming into the bed.

Feeling my second orgasm pushed him to the brink again and he jackhammered into me. Hard. Chasing his high. I pushed back furiously desperate to feel him. I moaned “Cum in me Daryl please i need to feel you”

I felt him explode moaning my name and grinding deep into me riding it fully out”

He collapsed on top of me breathless. We lay like that for a few minutes when I felt him going hard in me again. He pulled out and lay back on the bed pulling me into his chest his heart still pounding in his chest.

“God girl, If i’d of known you were that good a fuck, I’d of taken you that first fucking night” A relaxed grin on his face.

He turned and took my face in his hands kissing me softly and murmured into my lips “I hope you don’t think i'm done with you yet” He winked “I aint had a girl like you in a loooong time i aint even close to done with ya”

He rolled back onto me pulling my lip with his teeth. “Ready?” I nodded desperate to feel him again.

God knows how many hours & Orgasms later he fell off me pulling me close into his chest again. I passed out instantly, Thoroughly exhausted. He chuckled into my hair and followed me into blissful sleep.

When we woke the next morning his arms still tight around me, Smiling in his sleep.

I looked over happy wishing i could stay here forever but there was work to be done.

I slowly picked his arm up and tried to wiggle out from under it, Before i'd gotten half way those glorious muscles had flexed and pulled me straight back into him. “Morning beautiful. Hope you don’t think your going anywhere. We’ve got so much time to make up for.” He nuzzled his face into yours sweetly. You could feel him growing hard against your hip. “Don’t worry i’m feeling responsible. I’ll make it quick!”

He fucked me again for another hour until we were both sweaty, shaky wrecks.

I groaned and rolled to the edge of the bed and sat up trying to stand up and instantly felt my legs buckle beneath me. He was up and caught me before i came crashing down. He laughed. “Don’t say i didn’t warn you” You laughed with him. “God, I love that sound” He said, staring into my eyes and planting a sweet kiss onto my lips. He stood and started grabbing his clothes from around the room and dressing.

“Take your time getting up, I’m back in the guard tower again today, Don’t forget what i taught you last night” He said with a wink and ducked down to kiss me. He moved to the doorway and moved the curtain turning back at me. “Oh and babe I wanna see that outfit again today, Now i know it’s all for me” He winked again and left.

I fell back on the bed with a huge grin on my face. Holy shit I can't wait for tonight!

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kizzys · 3 years

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Starkid Rewatch: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals 🎼

Finally we have reached the hatchetfield series

My paulkins brain is ready let's gooo

I'm that one lady in the audience who's genuinely jamming out to the intro

Thinking back to how the intro was just foreshadowing the ending and that Emma gets infected too

🎶what an ass, what a bitch, what a cuuuuuuuuck🎶

I love how every musical with them has lauren and robert having a cute dance number

Paul was clearly set up to be the asshole character but we all chose to love him so they just went along with it

LATTAY HOTTAY ☕

Does she know i would die for her

I have very low blood sugar

Paulkins interaction here we go

Knowing that ted is the homeless man...

I don't know how it changes things here but somehow it just does

Reluctant friendship hcs for paul and green peace girl come through

Once again: props to June saito for understanding the duality of lesbian fashion

Hey it's everyone's favorite murder grandpa

Oh, look a new blouse

Pitch perfect whomst?

I love that for Bill it's never a question of alice being gay..it's never really that big of a deal. He just does not like deb

He even suggests other girls for alice

Its just really comforting for me to watch it be normalised so sweetly

Lah...dee...DAH. DAH. DAY?!

I will 100% believe this is the man behind the paul clones. He is so fucking unhinged look at him

🎶black coffee, I'm your coffee gal- NOOOOO!!!!!

He has to bend to half his height to meet her eye level i love them

Promise me you'll think about the implications!!

Jaime had no business being this hot during cup of poisoned coffee

They're constantly just holding hands or reaching out for each other it's too cute

YOU GRABBED THE WRONG ONE, YOU NOODLE!

The purest friendship

Ted casually jamming out to Robert's dance

[alien/turkey noises]

His brain fell out

Who is it? Professor hidgens! Don't lie to me whoever you are, I'm professor hidgens!

This is paul and...them

I'm going to...kick your...head

Iconic

Get you someone who looks at you the way paul looks at emma

Or even the way emma looks at paul really they're both equally soft

The biggest plot twist would have been if Paul had been the one to crash Jane's car

FUCK CLIVESDALE

So I guess I'm the supervillain? I don't think of you like that at all emma

I'm soft for them

Jaime i love u

Seriously her voice 😯

Jeff just jumping around while jaime sings like a goddess honestly same

Anyways paulkins are being all adorable in the background

I love how they're just screaming out for bill like fuck ted

I shot a charle-ton

Appreciate his jokes please

SING THE BEGINNING OF MOANA

The best starkid song honestly

Can we talk about how paul remembered most of the lines? Like emma and ted were just repeating whatever he said and bill was fucking singing the circle of life

Ted's voice cracking

I just realised he's sitting directly in front of charlotte's body and I know he's 90% an asshole but this fucking scene man

Like he cares just a little and we can all see it how he's trying to keep whats left of his friends from dying too

Honestly joey's acting here gets me

Height difference™

When he said "I respect her choices but..." I honestly initially thought some homophobic crap might follow but bill you absolute angel

He did not dissapoint

Bill Woodward 🤝 Steve harrington

If you get what I mean

(team i have no issue with you being a lesbian but please have better taste in girls)

Fancasting for denise or angela to play grace chastity in NPMD

Corey's expressions in this scene honestly breaks my heart

He just wanted to save his daughter 😔

prove it asshole, we're the army

he boop

WEAR A WATCH ⌚

I'm authorising you to use my firearm

Hidgens and mcnamara are both dramatic gays but with completely opposite energies

[foot sweep]

The way he skip-runs across the stage

Draco would be proud

For a 63 year old he can really work those hips

The audience losing their shit

Should I take this chair? I'll get the piano

The light slowly turning red as infected!mcnamara smiles

The audience slowly realising what the lyrics mean

Honestly iconic

One of my favorite moments in the show

So the last thing paul ever told emma was "byeeeee"?

Nah fuck that they both survived and are living happily in colorado running their pot farm

What ending?

The theatre being Paul's worst nightmare and starlight theatre being the place where he's killed, and starlight also being miss holloway's nightmare time? Methinks he might be her descendent of some sort

Watch out paul, he might kick your head

Mr. Davidson didn't want to be a mindless alien slave! He wanted to be choked by his wife!

Starkid stroking their villain takes a whole another level here huh

Jon slipping between normal talking to singing after every other word is pure talent

All jokes and paulkins related angst aside the ending is actually really amazing for a multitude of reasons

1. Inevitable is an absolute masterpiece of a song and it ties in all the previous songs that were there in the show

2. It provides context to the intro song (its all a fucking loop babey)

3. We get this one final moment of softness

4. Emma's scream perfectly harmonises with the ending of inevitable

5. It spectacularly breaks the 4th wall for the second time and integrates the audience as characters in the show

6. They never once break character through the whole thing

7. It proves once and for all that the hero of the story was never paul, it was emma. paul was just the final villain

That being said I am happily going back deep down in denial-town. You can find me drowning in a bucketload of paulkins fluff fics goodbye

89 notes · View notes

mycupoffanfiction · 4 years

Note

Mobster bucky with 26 please

Hi anon, I hope you enjoy this little mobster drabble! 💖

Warnings: Touchy guys, angry Bucky, soft Bucky

Bucky could see it across the club. His whole meeting felt useless. He was just sitting at the private dining table, watching as his client droned on and on about their business proposal he had no care for. It made his blood boil and he clenched his fists tighter, the leather of his gloves creaking under the stress as he watched.

You were a little ways down the club, serving some table of complete assholes who liked to take every chance you approached the table to touch you and look at you in such a degrading way. This was his club and goddamn it, no one was going to treat you, his favourite employee like they fucking owned you, not unless they had a death wish.

He was trying to keep himself calm and measured, keep his attention on the deal proposal, but as he looked away from you and at his client, he heard a sharp smack. He snapped his head around, to see you backing off from the group of men and he could only guess that one of them had just had the audacity to fucking touch you in a more inappropriate way that before.

Without saying a word, Bucky threw his serviette angrily onto the table and got up, his chair falling back with this force he’d used. Steve didn’t have to back him up, Bucky was New York’s biggest mobster and one look from him could stop a street war, but he still joined the pursuit.

Bucky was livid as he approached, one man grabbing hold of your waist and trying to pull you to the table with him. Bucky lost complete control of how much force he used. He quickly grabbed the guy by the throat and threw him down onto the table, the sound of clattering silverware and porcelain breaking were the only sounds in the club when everyone went deadly silent.

“She ain’t yours to treat like that.” Bucky spoke gravely, voice deep, low and full of warning. “You don’t come to my club and touch my girl.” Bucky shouted, his voice bouncing off the walls and you flinched at how angry and forceful his words were.

“Get the fuck out before I order a hit on you. All of you!” He raised his voice, throwing the guy to the ground and watching as the entire group scrambled to get out of the club as fast as possible. “See that they’re dealt with Steve, I don’t want them here again.” He sighed, turning to look at you.

“Doll, I’m real sorry they touched you like that.” Bucky switched back to the loving tone he used just for you as he reached out to take your hand, your fingers curling around his gloved hands and squeezing. He tugged you closer and hugged you against his chest, comforting you with soft whispers and his gentle voice. He didn’t care that it was in front of the rest of the club, it showed everyone else you were his and you were most certainly hands off.

“I know you wanted to keep workin’ here but please Sweetheart, I can’t take it, knowing some assholes are doin’ that to you in my club.” Bucky spoke softly to you, guiding you over to his table. “Can’t I just serve your table instead?” You asked. “Sugar, I don’t want you servin’ me, you’re my girl, I want you in my lap so I can concentrate on what I’m doin’ instead of worryin’ about you.” He sighed.

“I’ll fuckin’ pay you to sit on my lap, Doll.” He smirked, leaning down to kiss you softly. You giggled and shook your head at your boyfriend. “I think that can be arranged, but I don’t need payment to want to sit in your lap, Buck.” You smiled.

Prompts for drabbles here

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #mobster!bucky x reader #mob!bucky x reader #mobster au #mobster bucky

427 notes · View notes

let-it-raines · 4 years

Text

What a Wicked Game {15/15}

Killian met her in a pub on a rainy night in March. Going inside was only supposed to be a way for him to avoid the rain and fight off the demons in his head. It was a place for him to pass through, not stay. But then he was charmed by a blonde woman with a quick wit who had absolutely no interest in him or who he was.

That was a first. It was also the beginning of Emma Nolan helping to bring him back to life. It was the beginning of everything.

Five years later, with their worlds crumbling around them, Killian can’t help but wonder if this is the end of the peace they have known now that his family knows about his relationship. It wouldn’t be a problem if his father wasn’t the King of England.

rating: mature

a/n: thank you to @captainswanbigbang for running this event and letting me write this story, to @resident-of-storybrooke for plotting and listening to me talk and for reading this, like, four times while never complaining, to @captainsjedi for making all of the incredible art for it and writing the sweetest tags, and to @wellhellotragic for finding the original story over on ao3 years ago and supporting me then and still supporting me now ❤️

ao3: beginning | current

tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

-/-

February 2021

His heart is in his throat.

It’s been that way for several hours now, and at some point, Killian should probably get that checked out by a medical professional who can assure him that he’s not going to die and that his heart will return to his chest and beat at a normal rate again.

He is in a hospital, after all, so there’s likely someone who can help him out.

“Killian, you have to stop clenching your fist.”

“I’m not clenching my fist.”

“Literally, look down at your hand.”

Killian blinks before looking down at his hands. His right is tangled with Emma’s, his grip stronger than it should be, while his left is, indeed, balled into a fist on her mattress.

Oh.

Sighing, Killian unclenches his first before loosening his grip on Emma and leaning forward to press his lips against her knuckles. “I’m sorry, love. I - fuck. I really don’t mean to be so dramatic, but you fainted out of nowhere just as we were about to leave to go home, and I’m terrified that something awful is wrong with you.”

Emma’s hand pushes into his hair, scratching at his scalp, and he shouldn’t be the one who is being comforted right now. He should be comforting Emma. She’s the one who is in a hospital bed waiting on the results of all of the tests they ran on her, and while he knows she likely had low blood sugar and a lack of sleep from the hectic schedule of their tour, he cannot help but think of all of the horrendous things that could be wrong with his wife.

He loves her in sickness and in health, always, but God, he hopes she’s alright. He can’t live without her, which is so damn selfish to think, but this is where they are now.

(And he can be selfish when it comes to wanting Emma to be alright.)

It’s nothing. It has to be nothing.

“I’m fine,” Emma promises, but he knows she doesn’t actually know, not yet. “It’s been a crazy week with no sleep, and I skipped meals, which was stupid. It’s probably low blood sugar or exhaustion or something else I can fix when we get home and have some time off.”

“But you don’t know that.”

“I mean, I could be dying, but I didn’t think that’s what you wanted me to say.”

“Swan - ”

Emma huffs and rolls her eyes at him. “I’m fine until the doctor says otherwise because I pretty much refuse for something to be wrong with me.”

Killian nods and leans down to press his lips against her knuckles once more. He understands. He refuses for something to be wrong with her too. They’ve already spent too much time in their lives with Emma in a hospital, and he doesn’t want to keep doing this.

“Good afternoon, Your Highnesses,” Dr. Roberts sing-songs as she walks back into the room. He has no idea if this woman is always this peppy or if maybe this is her way of saying there’s nothing wrong with Emma before she actually says it. If there is something wrong, Dr. Roberts really has to work on how she speaks. “So, I have some good news.”

Killian perks up, while Emma stays sitting as she was, her thumb rubbing over his knuckles. “What is it?”

“Well, you’re fine,” Dr. Roberts continues, her smile bright as ever, “and so is your baby.”

“Oh thank God,” Killian sighs, leaning forward again. He’d truly convinced himself that something awful was wrong, but Emma is fine. She’s fine.

“I’m sorry,” Emma mumbles, “did you just say I’m pregnant?”

What?

“I did.”

Pregnant.

“I cannot be pregnant.”

Emma is pregnant.

How did he not hear that part?

“You are most definitely pregnant, Your Highness.”

How is Emma pregnant?

“You just told me I apparently have a baby in my uterus. You can call me Emma.”

Is he going to be a dad? Is Emma going to be a mum?

Killian’s head shoots up from where it’s buried against Emma’s hand to quickly look at her and her slack-jawed expression before looking at Dr. Roberts.

The doctor nods before looking between the two of them, and Killian stops staring a hole into her eyes to turn to look back at his wife who is apparently carrying their child. He feels like the biggest asshole in the world because he can’t seem to form coherent thoughts and should probably be having some kind of poetic thought about what this is going to mean to him, to the both of them.

Killian may be a little shocked.

The fact that Emma is too makes him feel a hell of a lot better.

“Emma,” Dr. Roberts sighs, “I think I’ll give the two of you some time to yourselves to talk since I seem to have shared some rather big news. Just know that both you and your baby are fine, but you need to make sure that you’re not overexerting yourself. You fainted because of a lack of sleep, proper nutrition, and your pregnancy.”

“Thank you,” Killian manages to mutter out while his thumb caresses Emma’s knuckles and Dr. Roberts walks out of the room. The moment the door closes, Killian leans down to kiss Emma’s hand before looking up at her. “Penny for your thoughts, love.”

“I’m really scared that my feet are going to get bigger.”

Killian barks out a laugh and rises from his chair in order to get closer to Emma, dipping his head down and kissing her because he can’t think of a single reason why he shouldn’t be kissing her at every available moment.

Especially now.

Especially always.

“I believe that means you’ll simply have to get new shoes. I think that can be arranged.”

“Never did I think there would be a day where you were encouraging me to get more shoes.”

“Well, you do have to throw out the old ones, of course.”

Emma’s chuckle is small, but it’s there, and Killian rests his forehead against hers while Emma’s hand comes to rest in his hair, toying with the little strands at the nape of his neck.

God, that feels good.

They’re having a baby.

“Killian,” she whispers, “how am I pregnant?”

“I don’t think I really need to explain the concept of sex to you.”

“Shut up.”

“No, I’m serious. When we are having sex, or making love if that’s your preferred term, and I reach my - ”

“You’re being an ass.”

“Wrong part of the body.”

“Ten years from now, when we think back on the moment I found out I was pregnant, this is what you’re going to have to remember.”

Emma is pregnant.

They’re going to be parents.

Bloody hell.

“I love you, darling,” he whispers, pulling back from her so that he can tuck her hair behind her ears and see the beautiful green of her eyes. They’re wet with tears, and he imagines his are too. “And I don’t know how this happened. I assume...I don’t know. I don’t know how this happened, but I do know that I’m happy. Are you happy?”

Emma nods while tugging on her bottom lip. “I’m happy, but I’m scared. I mean, we’ve talked about wanting kids, but talking about it and actually knowing that I’m pregnant is - ”

“Nerve-wracking.”

“Pretty much,” she laughs. “I’m pregnant. We’re going to have a baby. I don’t think we know how to have a baby.”

“I imagine we’ll figure it out.”

“I guess we will.”

-/-

Killian is flooded with joy for the first week of them knowing Emma is pregnant. She’s only eight weeks along now, so they haven’t told a soul yet, but he’s itching to, if only because he desperately needs to talk to someone about it.

Someone who isn’t Emma because right now, he’s feeling like a piece of worthless scum on the sidewalk for some of the thoughts he’s having.

There are so many damn emotions that come with Killian knowing Emma is pregnant - happiness, elation, joy, terror, anxiousness, excitement - and as much as he fluctuates between all of them, there’s only one that creeps into the forefront of his mind in the middle of the night after a day wandering around knowing that their lives are going to keep changing every single day.

Uncertainty.

And it’s rubbish because he’s not even sure if uncertainty is an emotion, but it’s also rubbish because he’s feeling uncertain not because he doesn’t want this baby, but because he’s terrified that he won’t be a good father to their child.

Killian has a piss poor excuse for a father, and as much as David has filled in for that role, it’s not the same as having a good example for his entire life and seeing year-by-year proof that children can grow up to love their dads and not resent them or be hesitant to even be in the same room as them at family gatherings. He doesn’t love his dad, and he hates that he’s consumed by that. This is supposed to be one of the happiest times in his life, and all Killian feels some days is that he’s already a failure.

(It’s been a week. How is he already screwing up after a week?)

If he didn’t know that Emma is going to be the most incredible mum on the planet and make up for all of his shortcomings, he’d be fully convinced that he couldn’t do this and that fatherhood simply wasn’t for him.

Which is utter bullshit. He’s been in love with Emma for nearly a decade, has known he’s wanted to have children with her for most of that time, and Brennan should not still be able to take up so much space in Killian’s head.

Not anymore.

He’s fighting those demons and dealing with them in his counseling and every time he has to deal with his father, and Killian is determined not to let him taint this.

He can’t.

Not when the woman in bed next to him might as well be an angel sent to him from above, and not when the almost invisible curve of her stomach resting underneath his hand can be felt. They weren’t prepared for this. It wasn’t planned, and it’s apparently the result of the two of them thinking that the month of December was some kind of sex parade where birth control was sometimes optional.

(Emma found where she had skipped birth control pills after they got home, and he thinks she stared at the package for an hour at the very least.)

They were so stupid.

But he doesn’t regret it. Killian can’t. If they’d waited and tried some time from now, the baby growing in Emma wouldn’t be this baby. It would be a wonderful baby he and Emma both love with everything in them, but it wouldn’t be the same. Maybe next time, if they’re lucky enough, the pregnancy will be a result of months of careful love-making and a pointed attempt at trying, but to him, it doesn’t matter.

He’s scared out of his mind about being a dad, doesn’t know how he’s going to do it, but he wouldn’t change a thing. Not when he has Emma.

“You’re thinking too much,” Emma mumbles, twisting in the bed.

He lays his hand flat over her stomach. “You’re talking in your sleep.”

“I’m awake. Your thoughts were so loud.”

“If you can hear my thoughts, I feel like you need to explain quite a few of the fights we’ve had.”

“Don’t wanna,” Emma mumbles sleepily. Killian huffs into her hair before twisting around her and allowing her to stick her freezing cold feet between his calves while his lips brush over her cheek. His hand flexes over her stomach again, feeling the proof of a decade of love and heartbreak and everything in between. “You’re a good baby daddy.”

(He rather despises that term, and Emma seems fit to call him that this week. Hopefully that will die down, but he really can’t complain when Emma has just become fraught with morning sickness as of yesterday.)

“Am I?” he whispers into her hair, trying not to laugh. She’s not going to remember any of this in the morning. She has a habit of waking in the middle of the night, having a conversation, and then forgetting about it the next morning.

“Mhm. You’re sweet, and you’re also really hot. I like that about you.”

“Oh, well, I’m glad I can be of service for you in that way.”

Her breathing starts to even out after that, slowly returning to how it was, and Killian keeps moving his hand over the small, almost swell of her stomach, something that he knows is a comfort to both of them already.

“Killian?”

“Yes, love?” he whispers so quietly the ceiling fan drowns out the noise of his voice.

“You’re going to be a good dad.”

And even though she’s mostly asleep when she says it, Killian knows that Emma thinks that. She has so much faith in him even when she shouldn’t, and her words settle the beating of his heart and the worry running circles in his mind.

It’s not everything, but it’s a start.

(And technically, Emma having faith in him is everything.

It’s all he’s ever wanted and far more than he deserves.

But he’s glad for it.)

-/-

“What the hell are you wearing?”

“What? You don’t like it?”

“It’s rather beige.”

Emma huffs and tugs at her bra, pulling it out and gathering all of the excess fabric there. “My mom thought it would be appropriate to buy me nursing bras, but this isn’t even close to my size. Like, I understand I’m going to balloon up in every way imaginable, but this is gigantic.”

“We told your parents about the baby two days ago. How has your mom already sent you new bras?”

“Express shipping, babe.”

Killian laughs and walks toward her. She’s standing in front of the bathroom mirror in nothing but her knickers and this massive bra that he can’t ever imagine Emma properly fitting into. Apparently, she can’t imagine it either. It hangs far off her back and over her breasts, and if she lets it go from her grasp, it falls to expose her nipples.

She looks ridiculous.

But also rather lovely, and when she turns around to face him, bottom lip jutted out in a pout, he steps up to her and places his hands on her hips, fingers inching up over her sides. “This is the sexiest you have ever looked.”

“Shut up,” she laughs, slapping his stomach.

“What? Can I not talk about it? This bra is so much better than everything you have in your closet.”

“You’re being dumb.”

“Oh, always.”

He leans into her and brushes his scruff against her neck, knowing that it tickles her, before doing the same with his fingers against her sides. Emma is squirming away from him, or, at least, trying to, but he doesn’t let her, backing her up against the counter as he keeps moving against her while she gasps for breath and laughs.

In between calling him an asshole, of course. That’s her favorite name for him.

“K-killian,” she gasps, leaning away from him as he kisses her neck and moves to kiss her jaw. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“In an hour.”

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

“Aye,” he promises before kissing the corner of her lips until she’s turning to him so she can move her mouth over his, soft and slow and absolutely perfectly. As always. “But I think I might have some time to spend with you first.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm.”

“Can I take this damn bra off?”

“That was kind of the plan.”

-/-

They’re having a boy.

Killian was convinced that they were going to have a girl, as was Emma, and while it’s definitely a shock despite the equal odds, it doesn’t change anything about their excitement level or any of their plans going forward.

They’re having a boy.

And they can’t decide on a name. Everything in his head and on the list on the refrigerator were decidedly more feminine names, and while David, Liam, and Graham all cheekily suggest that their son should be named after one of them, Killian isn’t too sure about that.

(Ruby says their son can and should be named Ruby because she simply cannot wait until they have a girl for her to have a kid named after her.

When Emma suggests she have her own kid - “pregnancy is a bitch,” Emma mumbles - Ruby raises her hands in defeat and says they should name the kid whatever they want.)

It’s not that simple.

For as much as he and Emma push back on the traditions of his family and some of the inane rituals, they do want the name to fit. However, they want it to fit both them as a couple and his family. It’s a mixing of lifestyles and opinions, and the debates seem to rage on and on. Killian’s mum tells him she’s happy with whatever name they choose because it’s their family, Killian’s father makes a rare comment just to tell them how much he’s still pissed over Emma saying she won’t pose for photographs the day after giving birth, and Emma can’t seem to decide on anything.

(Except that she’s still not going to pose for photographs and expose their child to the wildness of the press after twenty-four hours of life, and he supports her wholeheartedly.

The press has tried to ruin them time and time again, emotionally and physically, and Killian will not stand for it for his wife or their child.)

Killian has his preferences, but he’s trying to narrow down her choices on the massive list that seems to keep growing and growing each day.

The name debate wages on as the weeks pass by and Emma’s stomach continues to grow. Killian never spent a lot of time imagining what this period in his life would be like, but overall, it’s mostly the same as he expected it would be. At least for him. Emma has gone through highs and extreme lows as her hormones attack her and change her body, and all he could do was support her and rub her back when she was vomiting.

And make every food that she wants, no questions asked. Though, surprisingly, her cravings are not at all what movies make them out to be. They do follow along with a lot that he’s read in the books and articles he’s consuming.

“There is literally no reason to read ten different books on the same thing,” Emma mumbles as she pulls her up into a bun. “That’s got to be information overload.”

“It’s varying opinions, love,” he insists, taking another note and sticking it to the page in his book. “I want to know as much as I can so I’m not caught unaware, and I needed a break from looking at cabinet handles for the new house.”

“Babe, you’re going to be caught unaware. It’s going to happen. Not even you can completely prepare for this.”

“Aye, but I can try.”

And he does try. He tries as he reads his books and looks at articles online so that he can at least be the tiniest bit more prepared than he would be. Emma reads books as well and is always looking to see his notes and what he knows, but she’s definitely the more relaxed of the two of them.

At least he thinks that.

She’s six and a half months pregnant and in a wonderful phase of constantly wanting him no matter what they’re doing when he realizes that Emma doesn’t like to constantly talk about the baby because it is all anyone talks to her about. When she does engagements, it’s what people mention. When they go out to dinner, even the servers mention their impending parenthood. When Emma talks on the phone with his mother, Allison is constantly talking about gifts for the baby and plans and asking if Emma has looked into some of the classes Allison suggested. Everyone means well and simply wants to share in their excitement, but their life isn’t all about this baby.

Their life is greatly enhanced by him and will change because of him, but at the core of it all, they’re still Emma and Killian who have been having conversations for nearly a decade about things other than a baby.

And Emma is still Emma, and she wants people to ask her how she is or what books she’s read lately or any conversation that would have been had before she was pregnant.

Late at night, though, when they’re lounging in bed with his hand on her stomach and his chest pressed into her back, sometimes she likes to whisper her thoughts and her fears, all of the hopes that she has for this future that keeps getting nearer and nearer to them.

The road to getting here was full of sharp wrong turns and dark corners full of heartbreak, and while they may have gotten a little lost along the way, they’re here now. That’s absolutely all that matters.

It always has been.

“Babe,” Emma calls out on a sunny day in June. They’ve been home all day, neither of them changing out of their pajamas, and he imagines from the look of it, Emma hasn’t combed through her hair. To be fair, he hasn’t either. “Do you know where the peanut butter is?”

“We had that entire box shipped here for you. It should be in the cupboard.”

“I don’t see it.”

“Have you checked the bottom shelf?”

“Yes.”

“Did you really?”

“I’m going to slap you.”

Killian sighs and puts down the letters he was responding to in order to get up and walk toward Emma and the cupboard. When he steps inside the room, he immediately goes in search of the box of jars of peanut butter he ordered for Emma only for it not to be there.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

“That’s kind of an extreme reaction to not being able to find the peanut butter.”

“How did we lose an entire box of peanut butter?”

“It can’t be lost. It has to be misplaced.”

“Lost, misplaced. Whatever, love.”

He squats down to look over all of the bottom shelves before scanning each and every other one, shifting around containers and boxes and every other insane organizational tool he decided to buy when he wanted this room to be contained and not a mess.

Except he can’t seem to find anything.

Mostly this damn peanut butter.

“You know what,” Emma sighs, “it’s fine. I’ll eat something else.”

“Darling, I will find it.”

“It’s fine.”

“I’ll find it.”

“Killian,” Emma huffs, tugging on his wrist until he turns around to look at her, “it’s fine. We have those smoothies I like in the fridge. I’ll drink one of those instead.”

“Are you certain?”

“Absolutely.” She tugs on his wrists again until she’s pulling him out of the room and back into their kitchen. “It wasn’t important.”

“I simply don’t understand where the peanut butter could have gone. I mean, I suppose it could have been moved, but I - ”

Emma loops her arms around his neck and presses up on her toes until she’s gently sliding her lips over his in a slow kiss that has his heartbeat quickening and gooseflesh rising over his skin.

“Stop worrying about it,” she murmurs as they sway back and forth with her stomach pressed tightly against his. “I don’t want a repeat of the blueberry muffin incident.”

“Dammit, don’t - ”

She kisses him again, insistently pressing her lips into his, and Killian presses back, pecking her lips once before doing it again and again and again. He kisses her fleetingly all the while continuing to sway the both of them. The wood is cold against his bare feet, so he’s sure Emma’s feet are literal icicles, but he’s not focusing on that as Emma begins to laugh, a small melodic sound that carries with the music that’s playing over the speaker on his phone from where he was listening to it when he was working.

But the laugh grows louder as Killian’s mouth moves away from hers and more toward the corner of her lips so that his scruff brushes against her skin, tickling her in the same way that his fingers are scratching against her sides and over the edges of her belly.

“You’re the only one I want to make laugh, truly.”

Emma’s laugh quiets at those words until she’s tightening her arms around his neck and nuzzling her face into his neck. There’s a sharp inhale of her breathing him in, and Killian kisses the top of her hair.

“You’re a romantic, my love,” she whispers.

“That’s what I strive to be.”

“I know. It’s why you practice all of those lines in the mirror.”

Killian scoffs. “I do not do that.”

“If anyone asks, it’s your word against mine, and well…”

She lets the words trail off, obviously waiting for him to fill in the blanks and continue their banter, but he doesn’t. He can’t, because the song is changing, and it’s been ages since he danced with her in the privacy of their home. Everything lately has been in suits and dresses with Emma’s heels making her nearly his height, but it hasn’t been the two of them in pajamas with messy hair and the ghost of missing peanut butter cascading over them.

So he keeps moving them, a gentle sway that turns into more, and they traverse the space in the kitchen, their feet quickly moving as Killian whispers in Emma’s ear words of affection that flow from his heart. It’s moments and times like these in the sanctity of their kitchen when it’s just the two of them and no one and nothing else that he thinks of how grateful he is that they fought for their love and won. Nothing about this was ever guaranteed or predestined, but they figured it out.

“I love you.”

Emma hums. “I love you, too.”

She pulls her head back until he can see her eyes, the beautiful glint of blue wrapped up in the green, and her smile is so bright that he can’t imagine not kissing her. He can’t imagine not kissing her as often as he’s able and not kissing her every day on a multitude of occasions. So he does.

And he hopes not to ever stop having that desire.

He won’t.

Emma is his wife and the mother of his child, of this one between them now and any ones in the future, but most of all, he thinks, she’ll always be his closest companion.

His best friend.

“Hey,” Emma whispers after they’ve been silently dancing for at least two songs.

“Yeah, love?”

“I think I’ve finally decided what name I want for the baby.”

Killian chuckles and tilts his head to the side to press his lips into her hair once more, inhaling the scent of her shampoo and everything that he’s grown accustomed to over the years. “And what’s that then?”

-/-

Their son is born on September twenty-third, a few days after Killian’s thirty-second birthday.

They name him Andrew Killian Phillip Jones.

He always goes by Andy.

-/-

Any of my Second in Command (the original version of this story) will recognize Andy. He was, like, star of the show for that crazy long epilogue/sequel I wrote, and I really wanted to include him here. The main reason, though, was to show that even though some parts of Emma and Killian’s story changed, that they went through more of a wild ride this go round, that they still get to have the same happy ending...wait, I think I have to say “happy beginning” here 😉

Thank you all for the INCREDIBLE support! I hope you enjoyed this story!

@mrtinski @klynn-stormz @jonirobinson64 @snowbellewells @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @sherifemma @shardminds @captainsjedi @galaxyzxstark @galadriel26 @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @spartanguard @searchingwardrobes @itsfabianadocarmo @owlways-and-forever @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @onepunintendid @bluewildcatfanatic @397bartonstreet @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @scarletslippers @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @captainswanbigbang

#what a wicked game #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfic #csrt #captain swan #captain swan rewrite a thon

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diner-drama · 3 years

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Cuddle Buddies (2/?)

Steve's a busy human rights lawyer who doesn't have time for a relationship but still wants to snuggle up with someone. Luckily, Bucky happens to be a professional cuddler. Chapter 1. Also on ao3.

Bucky's week continued as normal after his appointment with Steve - appointments with his regulars, messing about at the gym, being consistently outsmarted by Alpine - except that, every once in a while, he'd remember that shy smile, spitfire attitude and messy blond hair, and grin to himself. The way he'd immediately melted into Bucky's embrace showed just how touch-starved his newest client was, and Bucky couldn't wait to get back in there and help Steve get back in touch with his cuddly side. He couldn't help but feel admiration for this plucky little guy fighting back against a corrupt administration in a toxic work culture, all in pursuit of what he thought was right.

Steve being cute, hilarious, and smelling nice were entirely incidental.

Still, by the time Saturday came around, Bucky would admit to being fairly excited. He took some extra care with his appearance, fussing with his man-bun and carefully selecting a pair of matching polka dot socks. When he knocked on Steve's apartment door, his breath was taken away for a second on seeing Steve in a sharp, pin-striped suit, his hair slicked back neatly, his nose and the tips of his ears bright pink from the cold air outside.

"Hey, Bucky, come on in, sorry for the wait. I've just walked in the door," he said, sounding a little breathless.

"Busy day, huh? You still want therapy today, or do you want to reschedule?" he asked tentatively, hovering on the threshold.

"Running around town all day trying to sort out some paperwork that for some ungodly reason needs to be submitted in person. Please, come on in, I could do with relaxing after all that."

Bucky smiled as he closed the door behind himself, toeing off his shoes to leave by the mat. "Sounds like a hell of a day."

"It's bad enough that they still insist on using fax machines in this day and age," grumbled Steve, throwing his hands up in the air. He pulled an inhaler out of the pocket of his jacket and took a couple of puffs, holding his breath each time and counting to ten on his fingers. "Sorry, my lungs don't like the cold," he explained, heading over to the fake fireplace to switch on the heat and the soothing, flickering light, turning on some other low, warm lighting and dimming the main light before pulling out a fluffy blanket from a trunk and spreading it over the couch.

Bucky let out a low whistle. "This place is next-level cozy. You should teach a class."

The way that Steve's ears turned even pinker at the compliment was adorable. "Speaking of cozy, do you want a hot chocolate? I could do with something warm to drink."

"That sounds amazing," said Bucky, dropping onto the couch and subtly rubbing his hands over the soft throw. "Seriously, I would pay like fifty bucks for a class on this."

Steve laughed, starting to relax for the first time. "I hope you don't mind that it's dairy-free."

"Never look a gift horse in the mouth," breezed Bucky, waving a hand before spreading out his arms on the back of the sofa, making himself comfortable. "How'd you make it?"

"It's pretty straightforward," said Steve over his shoulder, clanging around overhead to find a saucepan and grabbing the ingredients from the fridge. "You heat up some oat milk, add some sugar, and melt some dark chocolate in it. Sometimes I use mint or orange chocolate but I'm all out, so you're getting plain."

"Oh, I'm not good enough for the fancy chocolate? I see how it is," laughed Bucky.

"You watch your tone, young man," said Steve, pointing a spray can at him threateningly, "or I won't let you have any dairy-free cream-style food-related whipped topping."

"I could make a dirty joke about 'whipped topping' there, but I'm a professional."

The process of assembling the drinks involved several steps - pouring the hot chocolate from the saucepan to a couple of mis-matched mugs, using a tiny whisk to froth the oat milk, placing the exact right number of vegetarian marshmallows on top, spraying on the cream, and then grating over a little bit more chocolate, just for a flourish.

It took every ounce of Bucky's dubious professionalism not to make sex noises when he took his first sip of the sweet, satisfying concoction, but Steve was giving him a look like he could tell what he was thinking.

"You like it?"

Holding up a finger, Bucky took another big sip, savoring the taste with his eyes closed. "Stevie, I am in heaven," he sighed, throwing his head back.

Steve grinned, a mustache of cream on his upper lip. Bucky strongly tamped down the compulsion to reach over and wipe it off with his thumb.

"I'm just going to change into something more comfortable," said Steve, heading to the bedroom with his drink. "Won't be long."

Caught up in the rhapsody of his magical hot chocolate, Bucky barely noticed him leaving, but by the time he was setting his empty mug on the table, Steve was ambling back into the room, looking much more cuddly in a pair of thermal leggings, and a hoodie that was two sizes too big for him.

"What's the picture?" asked Bucky, gesturing at the print on the front of Steve's hoodie of a scruffy bear wearing a hat and duffel coat, with a battered suitcase at his feet.

Steve laughed. "That's Paddington Bear. My ma used to read me the stories when I was a kid. He traveled to London from Peru, and a family found him at a train station and took him in. He's my second favorite immigrant, after her."

"That's such a sweet story," said Bucky, his heart melting under this barrage of military-grade sincerity. "C'mere." He took hold of Steve's hands to gently pull him towards the couch and then yelped when he felt how cold they were. "Are you a lizard?" he shrieked, rubbing Steve's frigid hands between his warm ones.

"Bad circulation," said Steve sheepishly, shuffling closer.

"It's like your blood literally isn't even trying."

Steve huffed a laugh. "Jerk."

"OK, this is an emergency situation. I'm gonna lie on my side here and you're gonna put your hands under my arms to warm up. I assume your feet are cold, too?" Steve nodded. "Alright, just slot them between my shins here," he said, lying back. Steve reluctantly got into position, still acting stiff and a little annoyed at being offered help, but once his cold toes were snug between Bucky's legs and his fingers were tucked into his armpits and his cold nose was poking into the junction between his neck and shoulder, Bucky felt him relax.

"That better?" murmured Bucky, wrapping his arms around Steve's slim shoulders and rubbing up and down his arms. Steve made a disgruntled noise in response.

"I don't need to be babied," he grumbled, the sound muffled by Bucky's sweater. "I can take care of myself."

"Hey, if you don't want my spare body heat I can always-" started Bucky with a smirk.

"No!" whined Steve, burrowing closer into Bucky's body.

"That's what I thought," murmured Bucky into Steve's hair, hands rubbing up and down his back as he felt his skin slowly warming up. "How bad's your asthma?" he asked after a while.

"It varies a lot, but... yeah, it's pretty bad. Spent a lot of my childhood in and out of hospitals."

Holding his breath, Bucky counted backwards from ten to stop himself from squeezing Steve tight to his chest and never letting go. "No wonder you don't like being fussed over."

"Sorry for being prickly," said Steve. Bucky could feel his nose wrinkling against his neck. "I just hate it when people think I'm incapable, you know?"

Bucky felt a swell of appreciation in his chest. "Pal, you managed to get through all that and pass the bar exam? I imagine anyone who thinks you're incapable lives to regret it."

A half-hearted chuckle. "Thanks, Buck."

"Where do you keep your inhalers?" asked Bucky, struck with a sudden thought.

"There's one in the basket under the coffee table, a couple in my nightstand and one in my jacket, usually. Why?"

"I'll take note in case I have to make a heroic rescue."

"My savior," snorted Steve.

"Seriously though, how'd you manage to study through all that?"

Steve shrugged self-effacingly. "I have a pretty good memory, and I used to get the nurses to quiz me on stuff. One of my teachers used to come visit me to bring my homework and he'd help me with anything I was stuck on."

"Still, you must have been really dedicated."

"I guess," conceded Steve.

Preening with his victory, Bucky now made it his mission for the rest of their session to shower Steve with as many compliments as he could get away with. He could tell when he'd gone too far by the way Steve stiffened up in his embrace, and made sure to temper his honey-sweet words with a few friendly insults. If he had his way, Steve's self esteem would be high as fuck by the time they finished.

Steve gave as good as he got, however, and Bucky was informed in short order that he was very funny, had soft and silky hair, smelled very nice, and was the biggest asshole on the planet. The conversation was punctuated with belly laughs, undignified snorts, and flicked ears. Once Steve's hands had reached a more acceptable temperature - prompting Bucky to declare him to be a real mammal - he started stroking gently along Bucky's back, which felt lovely. By the time Bucky's alarm sounded, he had his nose buried in Steve's hair and was almost dozing, their murmured conversation taking on a slow, lazy cadence.

"Mmph," he said indistinctly, stretching out his neck and back in an attempt to wake himself up. "Time to wake up."

"This has all been a dreeeaaam," yawned Steve.

"Oh, so that means I'm not an asshole in real life?"

"Sometimes dreams are prophetic."

They traded more affectionate barbs as Bucky got his coat and shoes back on, and he waved back to Steve as he walked away with a goofy smile on his face.

When Steve opened the door the next Saturday, he winced as Bucky gasped in alarm.

"What the hell happened to your face?" demanded Bucky, closing the door behind him and kicking off his shoes.

"It's not as bad as it looks, really," said Steve, trying to make light of the situation. "I got into an altercation outside a bar last night and the guy got a couple of good hits in."

"Can you even see out of this eye?" said Bucky, examining Steve's swollen face. He did have a pretty epic black eye and a few scrapes and bruises, but nothing he hadn't dealt with before.

"Not yet, but the swelling should have gone down before work on Monday," replied Steve with confidence based on extensive experience.

Bucky's eyes narrowed and he regarded Steve with disapproval. "You get a lot of black eyes in your line of work?"

"The guy was hassling a lady!" insisted Steve, getting angry about it all over again. "I had to step in, it wasn't right."

"What, you let him beat on you so she could run away?"

"No, I dropped him on his ass and sat on him until the cops arrived," he responded with some pride. "He just got a couple of good hits in before I did."

Bucky looked suitably impressed. "You a black belt in karate or something?"

Steve rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I've got a blue belt in Judo but honestly, he was pretty drunk and I basically just pushed him over."

Bucky's concerned face broke into a grin as he started giggling. "Now I'm imagining some drunken prick trying to get away while your twink ass keeps him on the ground."

"Hey, I've had no complaints about this ass," insisted Steve, before turning beetroot red. "I mean-"

"I'm sure you haven't, pal," said Bucky easily, breezing past Steve's embarrassment. "You got an ice pack?"

"Yes, ma," grumbled Steve, heading dutifully to the freezer.

"How do you feel about us cuddling in your bed? That way you won't have to worry about falling off the couch if you drop off to sleep."

Steve's brain short-circuited for a moment at the idea of having this muscular specimen of male perfection pressed up against him in bed, before he managed to answer. "If you're comfortable with that, it's fine by me."

"That's great," said Bucky, dazzling him with his thousand-watt smile. "You'll need your rest if you want your body to heal by Monday."

"I didn't sign up for the mother hen package, you know."

"You're such a punk," groaned Bucky, rolling his eyes as he followed Steve into his neat, cozy bedroom. There was a lamp on the nightstand letting out a low, warm glow, lighting up the cream colored walls and the dark blue soft cotton sheets. Bucky let out an entirely different groan when he lay down on the mattress, sliding his body under the thick duvet. "This is the best mattress I have ever met," he said rapturously.

"The mattress is nothing to write home about," shrugged Steve, climbing into the other side of the bed. "It's the topper that really makes it special."

"I'm definitely buying one of these," declared Bucky, rolling over to face him. Gently, he took the ice pack from Steve's hands and held it to his bruised face, making him hiss at the cold. "OK, tough guy. You want to be the big spoon or the little spoon?"

"Will you think I'm less manly if I say the little spoon?"

"Most of my male clients want to be the little spoon, so I think your masculinity is safe."

Steve snorted and rolled over, taking the ice pack from Bucky and pressing it obediently to his eye. Bucky slid one hand under the pillow and wrapped the other arm around Steve so that his hand was resting on his stomach, his warm chest pressed against Steve's back. Despite a momentary fear that he would pop a boner that his sweatpants would be unable to conceal, Steve felt himself relax into Bucky's embrace, enjoying the tickle of his minty breath on the back of his neck.

After a while, the ice pack started to melt and become unpleasantly drippy, so he dropped it on the floor, then interlaced his fingers with Bucky's hand where it rested on his stomach, pulling his arm more tightly around him, and snuggled backwards into his body. He heard Bucky's breath hitch a little before he cuddled in closer, his face coming to rest against the back of Steve's neck. Steve could have sworn he felt the press of Bucky's lips where his collar met his skin, but he must have been imagining it.

He spent the next hour hovering in that liminal space between sleep and waking, where time stretches and everything turns hazy and warm. He was all wrapped up in Bucky, his clean scent and comforting presence surrounding him, chasing away all of his worries. Bucky's hand drifted over his body, stroking his hair, rubbing his arm, smoothing over his chest, holding his hand gently.

He was only vaguely aware of Bucky's alarm when it started to chime and was immediately silenced. Slowly, quietly, Bucky slipped out of his bed, tucking the covers back in around Steve's body, and turned off the bedside lamp, before carding his fingers once more through Steve's hair and leaving the room. Steve hummed happily and let sleep take him away.

#stucky #my fics #cuddle buddies

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honeyopinion · 3 years

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20/20 Albums of the Year

Circles by Mac Miller | Hip-Hop, Soul, Funk Released: January 17, 2020

Best Album For... Pouring One Out for Mac

I wrote a few different drafts of this album summary, and none of them felt like they really fit the impossibly large bill of accurately describing the posthumous importance or brilliance of this album. If you are a fan of hip-hop or soul music of any kind, try to give this piece of work a chance. I for one, used to judge Mac based on his early frat rap days in the late 2000s. But a decade later he came to leave the world with one of the most surprising and frankly impressive artistic evolutions that I’ve been able to witness in real time. RIP Mac.

Spotify Apple Music YouTube Pandora

Start With: “Circles” or “Everybody”

Marigold by Pinegrove | Alternative Country and Folk Rock Released: January 17, 2020

Best Album For… Passing Through a Small Town on a Cloudy Winter Day

Pinegrove was one of the last great concerts I got to experience before the pandemic. And it was my favorite performance of theirs from the last 6 years of seeing them play live. Is this my favorite album of theirs? Honestly, it’s not. But I still find it extremely enjoyable, and the memory of seeing these songs performed live, along with some of their classics, was enough for me to include it on this list. This is an album that marks Pinegrove’s exit from their pop punk roots. It’s still sentimental, but much more country and folk rock focused vs. anything trying to be associated with emo or punk.

Spotify Apple Music YouTube Pandora Start With: “The Alarmist” or “No Drugs”

Watch This Liquid Pour Itself by Okay Kaya | Synth Pop, Art Rock, Folk Released: January 24, 2020

Best Album For… Crywanking at 3am, Bathed in The Dull Light of Your Overheating Laptop

What if Feist and Father John Misty had a secret love child? They might sound something like Okay Kaya. Self proclaimed “Singer ~ Crywanker,” Okay Kaya brings serious BDE to weirdo art pop that she seems like she could be a plant from the mind of Nathan Fielder. Kaya delivers with such deadpan precision as she rolls out line after line of sarcastic joy, staring blankly at our dystopian reality. “Here I am, the whole world is my daddy,” “Netflix and yeast infection,” “Sex with me is mediocre,” “I just want us to do well like Jon Bon Jovi’s Rosê,” and, “My parasite and I are blushing / In the zero interaction ramen bar,” are just a few examples of some of her memorable and biting lyrics. The entire album is both a critique and nihilistic fondness for the absurdity of our lonely technological society, not quite sure how to deal with taboos like repressed female sexuality, depression, and codependency.

Spotify Apple Music YouTube Pandora

Start With: “Baby Little Tween” or “Asexual Wellbeing”

UNLOCKED by Denzel Curry and Kenny Beats | Hip-Hop Released: February 7, 2020

Best Album For... Nodding Your Damn Head To, Feeling Cooler Than You Actually Are

I had to double check that this was an album. Clocking in under 20 minutes, this collection of songs feels more like an EP, especially with the track titles that purposefully look like file names and placeholders. But for a short album, Denzel wastes no time, furiously zigging and zagging effortlessly over Kenny Beats’ 90s New York-indebted production (ad libs and all). Kenny pulls out samples of an array of pop culture references made by Denzel (like quotes from movies and weapon sound effects like a lightsaber) — as he rotates his flow between admirable impressions of DMX, Nas, and Joey Bada$$.

Spotify Apple Music YouTube Pandora

Start With: “So.Incredible.pkg” or “DIET_”

Cardboard City by Zack Villere | Pop, Electronic, R&B Released: February 14, 2020

Best Album For… Pal-ing Around With Your Friends From High School, Maybe Quoting Superbad At The Same Time

The first time I watched a music video from Zack Villere, I noticed the top comment said: “how did frank ocean get trapped in mark zuckerberg.” And while that definitely gets at the heart of how Zack Villere presents himself, he is not a phenomenal singer like Frank Ocean is, nor does he come off as an asshole like Mark Zuckerberg does. I would say that he is just a slightly awkward nerdy white guy who loves hip-hop production and R&B melodies. So the better question is really, “how did drake get trapped in michael cera?” This premise should not work at all, but somehow it does. This is only Villere’s second album, but he shows some serious production and songwriting chops, plus a commitment to his delivery that comes across as genuine, charming, and unique.

Spotify Apple Music YouTube Pandora

Start With: “Grateful” or “Superhero Strength”

The Slow Rush by Tame Impala | Psych Rock, Synth Pop, Disco Released: February 14, 2020

Best Album For... Throwing a Silent Disco For One

Tame Impala continues on their now 10 year streak of psych rock dominance. Along the way we’ve seen Kevin Parker master and stretch the boundaries of psychedelic production. This has resulted in his music coming as close to sounding like the best aspects of The Beatles, while also expanding into hip hop drums, R&B hooks, plus more and more electronic elements. This is an album that I was not super impressed with when it initially came out, but as we entered the pandemic and were tasked with finding small joys in staying at home all the time, I found myself going back to this album and appreciating the themes of solitude and self reflection that Parker has drawn from throughout his career.

Spotify Apple Music YouTube Pandora

Start With: “Posthumous Forgiveness” or “One More Hour”

1988 by Knxwledge | Hip-Hop Released: March 27, 2020

Best Album For... Pumping Your Brakes and Driving Slow, Uh *Homie* Although this album is named after a year in the 80s, the sound here is a perfect portal back to 90s golden era hip-hop, with all the gospel, soul samples, and the kind of deep bass you want to feel in your chest. This is the rare, largely instrumental hip-hop album that I find myself going back to, other than works from the legendary J Dilla and MF Doom. Knxwledge is good friends and a frequent collaborator with Anderson .Paak (in the form of NxWorries). Here we get Anderson to grace us with his presence on the track “itkanbe[sonice]”, and of course it sounds just like an authentic vintage soul sample. When I hear this collection of songs it makes me wish I still had a car, so I could inevitably damage my speakers listening to this.

Spotify Apple Music YouTube Pandora

Start With: “dont be afraid” or “thats allwekando.”

Future Nostalgia by Dua Lipa | Pop, R&B, Funk, Disco Released: March 27, 2020 Best Album For... Alarming Your Pet With Your Enthusiastic Lip Syncing

This album is a pure sugar rush. Like Bruno Mars with the help of Mark Ronson, or Calvin Harris a few years ago, Dua has harnessed a nostalgia (it’s even in the title, wink) for disco, funk and R&B, and is instantly a sexy, catchy, not-so-guilty pleasure. It’s sad that the majority of these songs are all bonafide club hits that didn’t have a proper home this year … except for my living room. And hopefully yours.

Spotify Apple Music YouTube Pandora

Start With: “Pretty Please” or “Future Nostalgia”

Hold Space For Me by Orion Sun | Alternative R&B and Hip-Hop Released: March 27, 2020

Best Album For... Wishing Frank Ocean Was Your Dad

“Alternative R&B” is a contentious term, but what else would you call one of a few R&B singers cool enough to make it onto (NYC indie darlings) Mom+Pop Records?? On one hand, she brings the vulnerable and introverted lyrics of an indie singer songwriter like Tracey Chapman, crossed with the raw presence and sweet melodic delivery of a true R&B star like Aaliyah. I’d even go far enough to refer to her as the musical stepchild of Frank Ocean and SZA.

Spotify Apple Music YouTube Pandora

Start With: “Ne Me Quitte Pass (Don’t Leave Me)” or “Lightning”

You and Your Friends by Peach Pit | Indie Rock and Dream Pop Released: April 3, 2020

Best Album For... Going Back To Your College Town To Crash A Party

Peach Pit seem like they would be cool dudes to hang out with. You have no problem picturing them as the band playing a house show in an indie movie about college kids. And that’s because there’s a familiarity to the scenes that their songs portray, of stumbling through your 20s, either being too dumb or having too much fun to notice. It’s funny to refer to this as “Indie” rock since this is Peach Pit’s major label debut with Columbia Records. But It has all the trappings of Indie; sticky melodies, gentle reverb, an “I’m not trying that hard” vibe, and lyrics that are oddly specific enough to be interesting, but still vague enough to be relatable.

Spotify Apple Music YouTube Pandora

Start With: “Feelin’ Low (Fuckboy Blues)” or “Shampoo Bottles”

Heaven To a Tortured Mind by Yves Tumor | Psych Rock, Indie Pop, Post-Punk, Alternative R&B, Experimental Electronic Released: April 3, 2020

Best Album For... Tearing Up The Fucking Dance Floor With Your Hot Robot Girlfriend

If Tyler the Creator, Alex G, King Krule, and Blood Orange all got into the studio together and dropped a shit ton of acid on Halloween, their recording session might sound something like Heaven To a Tortured Mind… And even then, you still might have trouble putting your finger on exactly what you’re hearing. “Dream Palette” is a good reference track for Tumor’s most wild and mesmerizing qualities. The biggest styles of the past half century of music have been loaded into this gleefully effective genre blender, with blades of dissonance slicing everything up, creating a surrealist sonic smoothie.

Spotify Apple Music YouTube Pandora

Start With: “Super Stars” or “Dream Palette”

The New Abnormal by The Strokes | Indie Rock, Dirtbag Disco, Synth Pop Released: April 10, 2020

Best Album For... Mixing Yourself Another Drink This Saturday Night

Back from the dead, The Strokes return with their first album in 7 years to turn some heads and settle back into some old habits. The charming messy haired garage rock of the early 2000s still pops up here and there, but this is really a record where the group is mature enough to show you that they actually are trying, and are unafraid to take joyous swings for the fences. Julian Casablancas pushes his scratchy alley cat yelp of a voice into something more vulnerable, sunny, and sweet, like he asked for a piña colada (you know, with one of those little umbrellas) instead of a double shot of scotch before hopping up on stage… Or maybe he did both. But these days, everyone is looking for some sort of break from our groundhog day lives any way that we can. Sometimes that sounds like selling out, or depending on how you look at it, stepping up. This album is the result of a group of old friends who got together to make music they simply want to make for themselves. Now far removed from the 2000s New York scene where their younger selves were acting too cool and disaffected to care about having fun.

Spotify Apple Music YouTube Pandora

Start With: “Eternal Summer” or “The Adults Are Talking”

The Loves of Your Life by Hamilton Leithauser | Indie Rock and Alternative Country Released: April 10, 2020

Best Album For... Drinking Down At The Docks, Watching The Sun Set

While I am a fan of The Walkmen, I have no idea what their frontman Hamilton Leithauser looks like or how he dresses. But hearing these songs off of his latest solo, I imagine the following: a member of Mumford and Sons if they were edgy and cooler, giving off a “cowboy rocker meets depression-era dock worker” aesthetic. That’s exactly how his music comes off to me. It’s a convincing blend of blues rock, Americana, and old timey country music. All expertly narrated by dusty country guitars and standup bass, tarnished horns and flutes, and what I imagine to be a restored saloon piano. The Loves of Your Life originally started as a collection of short stories, each about characters based on both people he knew and strangers. Leithauser then wrote the music separately, and finally came to mix and match their parts together in a surprisingly convincing fashion to create the album.

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Start With: “Wack Jack” or “Cross-Sound Ferry (Walk-On Ticket)”

What Kinda Music by Tom Misch and Yussef Dayes | Neo-Soul, Electronic, Hip-Hop

Released: April 24, 2020

Best Album For... Cooking For Someone You’re In Love With

Exactly what kind of music do Tom Misch and Yussef Dayes make? It’s orchestral, it’s jazz-infused, it’s hip-hop beats joined with gentle soul. It’s a little sexy, it’s a little mysterious, and you’re going to want to listen to it a whole lot. That’s it. That’s what kind of music it is! Send tweet.

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Start With: “What Kinda Music” or “Storm Before The Calm”

Petals For Armor by Hayley Williams | Electronic Pop and Art Rock Released: May 8, 2020

Best Album For... Browsing Depop for Your Next 80s Normcore ‘Fit

Hayley, Hayley, Hayley. You are too good for this wretched world!! After exploring more adventurous sounds and genre hopping over the last few Paramore records, Hayley decided to go out on her own. This really frees herself from the expectations that come along with being the face and heart of a wildly popular band for the last 15+ years. Thom Yorke fans rejoice, because Hayley Williams has a clear admiration for Radiohead’s haunting indie electronic vibe, while emoting some pain and darkness atop her love for 80s pop and art rock (think Genesis, Devo, The Talking Heads). This is a promising new avenue for Hayley to explore herself and process her pain and desire completely on her own. I see this new project of hers only blooming further from here.

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Start With: “Simmer” or “Sudden Desire”

Set My Heart On Fire Immediately by Perfume Genius | Indie Pop and Art Rock Released: May 15, 2020

Best Album For... Daydreaming That You Were Somewhere Else

For his 5th studio album, Perfume Genius enlists production wizard and guitar god Blake Mills, along with Grammy Award-winning arranger and multi-instrumentalist Rob Moose to create a beautiful swirling mosaic of 80s pastel pop that also packs serious classic rock grandeur. Bass guitar dances between satin smooth lines on one song to churning distorted currents on the next. Sparkling string arrangements and organs bleed together to expose a fading sunset that you’ll want to try and hold in your hands to keep it in sight. Perfume Genius is unafraid to challenge traditional masculinity, packing a 21st century queer machismo into both the quiet moments and jubilant explosions.

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Start With: “Without You” or “Describe”

græ by Moses Sumney | Indie Pop, Art Rock, Neo-Soul, Psychic Folk Released: May 15, 2020

Best Album For... Astral Projection 101

I mean this in the best way possible, but I think that Moses Sumney is a witch. Or maybe a wizard? There’s no other reasonable explanation for the level of creativity and wonder that he summons. This album feels like a private concert by a waterfall (similar to one on the cover), with ethereal pleas, and heavy ideas—like meditating on what lies beyond the constraints of the physical self and reconsidering how well we can actually trust memory and the mind. Sumney layers his voice to create the effect of a ghostly choir, accented by a stark intimidating falsetto that reverberates through the ruins of an abandoned temple where Sumney is the only one in attendance.

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Start With: “Cut Me” or “Polly”

WILL THIS MAKE ME GOOD by Nick Hakim | Psychedelic Neo-Soul Released: May 15, 2020

Best Album For... Playing Pool in a Hazy Dive Bar

Nick Hakim is a silky smooth smokey crooner who paints with warbly piano loops, dreamy reverb-heavy guitar, boom bap beats—not to mention a falsetto that would make Smokey Robinson jealous. Clearly a fan of Motown and 60s jazz, Hakim could be considered a peer of Thunder Cat and Anderson .Paak’s to a degree. I remember seeing him perform at Music Hall of Williamsburg a few years ago. The performance ended with him falling down on stage (presumably from being under the influence of multiple substances). But while the song continued he popped back up and belted an impressive high note like it was nothing, drink in hand. And it’s that kind of messy beauty that also makes this album so engrossing. Like watching the eye of the storm get closer and closer, but unable to look away from the sheer magnetism that nature can wield.

Spotify Apple Music YouTube Pandora Start With: “All THESE CHANGES” or “ALL THESE INSTRUMENTS”

RTJ4 by Run The Jewels | Hip-Hop Released: June 3, 2020

Best Album For... Making Your Next Protest Sign

Run The Jewels’ fourth outing might be the most unapologetically angry rap album in the “fuck this” year of 2020. And it reminded me that I should absolutely still be furious about everything that happened during this groundbreaking yet terrifyingly familiar year: country wide protests over the continued murder of innocent black people at the hands of the police, government drone strikes and detaining kids in cages, the state of our environment worsening—and that’s not even addressing the pandemic or election. Killer Mike and El-P are here to scream from the rooftops that our current system of cutthroat capitalism and white supremacy is killing the planet and its inhabitants, and I’m glad that they’re using their platform to continue to sound the alarm.

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Start With: “out of sight” or “ooh la la”

Your Hero Is Not Dead by Westerman | New Wave Revival and Indie Pop Released: June 5, 2020 Best Album For... Wanting Your Old School MTV

The cover of Westerman’s first proper album is mostly black and white, except for the title, which is scrawled out in lettering which spans the Crayola color spectrum. It’s an album that on the surface is cold and buttoned up, but when these choruses open up, the maximalist 80s power pop bursts like the bulbs of a neon sign. There’s a level of even-keeled cool and confidence in small moments on display here that makes this relatively new artist seem well beyond his years. Having seen him play at Rough Trade a few years ago (opening up for the stellar Puma Blue), the songwriting growth on display on this record is impressive. I’m only sad that there wasn’t an opportunity to have seen him play these new songs live.

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Start With: “Easy Money” or “Confirmation (SSBD)”

Punisher by Phoebe Bridgers | Indie Rock and Alternative Country Released: June 18, 2020

Best Album For... Burning Incense and Breaking Out a Ouija Board to Talk to The Ghost of Your Former Self

This is without a doubt, a career defining release for Phoebe. Taking everything she’s learned from writing, performing, and touring with the likes of Lucy Dacus and Julien Baker (in boygenius), and Conor Oberst (in Better Oblivion Community Center), Bridgers levels up to become the truly prolific singer-songwriter she’s been telling us she would always be. Bridgers has explained her personal definition of “a punisher” as a well meaning person who’s, “just talking to you and they don’t realize that your eyes are glazed over and you’re trying to escape.” Vital to understanding this album and its central message is that Phoebe finds herself caught between the contradiction of falling victim to this phenomenon while also doing it herself, especially if she ever met her musical idol, Elliott Smith. Punisher serves as a warning to her audience that if you focus too much on trying to find yourself through other people (via escaping through fandom, drugs, toxic relationships), you’ll always feel lost and dissatisfied, without the proper self awareness to ever quite know why.

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Start With: “Garden Song” or “ICU”

Women In Music Pt. III by HAIM | Rock, Pop, Folk, R&B Released: June 26, 2020

Best Album For... Preparing For A Better 2021, lol

With this album, HAIM skyrocketed to the #1 position of family bands that start with an “H.” Sorry, Hanson! But seriously, HAIM has outdone themselves on this one. If there was one album from this list that I would dub my personal AOTY, this would be it. You might wince at any tracklist longer than 10-12 songs these days (I know I usually do), but almost every song proves itself worthy, pulling at a different thread of my heart until there’s nothing left. Sunshine State Beach Pop? Check. Blues Tinged Dad Rock? Yup! Dive Bar Country? Mmhmm! No, wait, what’s that you say, Glitched-Out R&B? Yes, yes, and yes. You can have it all, sister! ‘Cause when you’re Haim, you’re family! ;) And these three “women in music” continue to prove that they are just about the best Assorted Pop Rocks(™) act in the world right now.

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Start With: “I’ve Been Down” or “Don’t Wanna”

Lianne La Havas by Lianne La Havas | Neo-Soul and Indie Pop Released: July 17, 2020

Best Album For... Sipping Coffee and Journaling on a Weekend Morning

This album exudes a warm vulnerability, like a comforting hug we all needed this year. On her third album, Lianne La Havas makes the risky decision to self title it, a move that artists make when they believe that it is the piece of work that they most want most directly associated with their name. It’s one thing to name your first album after yourself if you can’t think of anything else at the time, but to make a self titled album in the middle of your career, it means that you are sure about having captured who you really are and who you want people to remember you as. “If I love myself, I know I can't be no one else,” La Havas admits on the standout track, “Paper Thin.” She knows that she will meet her destiny and reach self actualization, but only through self love. And finally, I cannot overstate how breathtaking La Havas’s voice comes across on this album. The strength and control on display in her vocal tone and vibrato is quite a spectacle.

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Start With: “Paper Thin” or “Sour Flower”

Limbo by Aminé | Hip-Hop and R&B Released: August 7, 2020

Best Album For... Trying and Get Over Kanye With

On Limbo, Aminé establishes himself as one of the torchbearers of soul-sampling, lyrics-driven hip-hop that still cares about storytelling, skits, and presenting vocals clearly. Kanye West, Drake, and J. Cole all paved the way for someone from the next generation like Aminé to keep the dream alive and avoid succumbing to the “feel good, don’t think” form of passive listening that mumble rap has made the standard for mainstream hip-hop.

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Start With: “Pressure In My Palms” or “My Reality”

Shore by Fleet Foxes | Folk and Indie Rock Released: September 22, 2020

Best Album For... Running Along The Beach With Your Arms Stretched Out

It was really kind of Robin Pecknold and co. to have released an album this triumphant, calming, and awe-inspiring during the year of our Lorde 2020. On behalf of myself and anyone else who suffers from Seasonal Affective Disorder, the SAD people of the world really needed this, man. And to anyone who is quick to judge these beard-o’s of being boring, you’re simply not using your ears properly. Yeah, you know those two things on either side of your head? Get the gunk out of them! That way you’ll hear the choir of angels with acoustic guitars who are here to guide us through quarantine and beyond.

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Start With: “Can I Believe You” or “A Long Way Past The Past”

Listen to all of these albums together in our playlist.

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lymricks · 5 years

Text

cleaning up bottles with you

A series of new years that Billy cannot forget, m

15:

Billy’s on the side of the road with his thumb in the air. It’s over now. His dad keeps getting worse. It’s been two years of showing up at games to cheer, two years of a bottle of beer in his hand. Tonight’s the first time it’s cracked him across the face. He can feel a bruise forming, but no blood. The glass hasn’t broken, yet. Maybe his head isn’t as hard as his dad keeps telling him it is. Maybe he shouldn’t get in the cab of the truck that pulls over, but maybe he should. Maybe is all he fucking has, isn’t it? He drinks champagne from the bottle he stole from his dad’s liquor cabinet. He doesn’t get in the truck. He puts his thumb down and walks to the beach, swaying, floating on bubbles. At least it’s not too cold in California, not really. He wakes up with a headache and sand in every crevice he has. He’s not sure if the headache is from the bottle of beer or the bottle of champagne, maybe it’s both.

17:

“You wanna know how much I like it?” he’s sneering, his hands gripping the couch in front of him, the couch between him and his dad. Billy’s laughing and his dad keeps hissing that Max and Susan will be home soon. Billy picks up a bottle of beer and throws it across the living room. It lands somewhere near his dad’s hand. “New year’s tradition,” Billy snarls, laughing again. He motions to his cheek, “Go on,” he says, and he wonders, later, with a pack of peas against his face, huddled in the sunroom, if he thought that his dad wouldn’t do it. It’s colder in Hawkins than it had been in California. There’s no beach to lay out on. Billy gets in the Camaro--at least he doesn’t have to hitchhike, now--and drives three towns over. He picks a fight with the biggest guy he can find, and then he doesn’t know if the headache is from the hits or from--well, the hits. That makes him laugh, sprawled in the snow on the side of the road, drunk and clutching a bottle of champagne.

A car drives by and, lying there, he lifts his arm and puts his thumb up, just in case.

“Hargrove, what the fuck?”

And Billy cackles, blood in his teeth and on his face and on his hands, “Amigo, I gotta be dreaming.”

19:

“You’re not supposed to drink the champagne until midnight,” Harrington’s hissing at him. They’re in a fancy fucking loft in New York City, and Billy thinks that he did not drive all goddamn night to get here and not be allowed to drink the champagne.

“That’s stupid. I’m thirsty,” Billy says. He’s tired from the road and grumpy because of it. His edges are sharp. They aren’t usually with Harrington and he knows that because Harrington’s lips part in surprise at his tone. It makes Billy’s lip curl. He makes his smile sharp at the edges. “You knew,” Billy says, “What you were getting into with me. I don’t do fancy parties. I don’t do midnight toasts, Harrington. I do champagne. I fucking hate this holiday,” and he says it all real low, right next to Harrington’s ear. He thinks and I fucking hate you, because it would twist something in Harrington’s gut, but it would be a lie, and Billy doesn’t lie.

Around them, the party screams, three-two-one and happy New Year! And they cheer and laugh, and Harrington’s breathing hard, and Billy thinks this is it, the last time, he’s done it now, he’s finally fucked this up, and it’s because he didn’t want to wait thirty seconds to down his champagne—

But then Harrington’s got his palm at the nape of Billy’s neck and he’s yanking him forward and kissing him, and Billy spills what’s left of his champagne all over them both, and Harrington says, “I hope you aren’t this big an asshole next new year’s eve,” into his mouth, which is not sweet at all, but.

It still makes Billy’s cheeks warm, because Harrington is already thinking about next year.

21:

“We have to go to a bar,” Billy’s explaining, even though it’s like, 11:49 and they haven’t planned anything. They’re just standing in the middle of the road. “I am old enough for this shit. We gotta go to a bar,” and he’s draped over Harrington’s back, grinning. “Steve, sweetheart, sugar, baby, please?”

And Harrington, who Billy can only see because they’re staring at the windows of the bar they had been planning to go to, but which is so full the bouncer laughed at them, raises an eyebrow. Billy presses a sloppy kiss against his cheek. He might already be a little bit drunk. “I used to hate New Year’s Eve,” he whispers, but it’s more like a shout, which he knows because Harrington winces before he turns him around.

“Why?” Harrington asks, sliding his arms around Billy’s waist and bumping their noses together. Billy thinks he might be a little bit drunk, too, then.

“Every New Year’s Eve my dad would get drunk and he’d hit me across the face with a beer bottle,” Billy says, and he doesn’t tell Harrington about the time he tossed it to him, or the truck drivers he almost let pick him up.

Inside the bar, the windows rattle, and someone screams, three-two-one and Billy’s kissing Harrington before he can even think it through, saying, “Sweetheart, baby, I love you,” and then Harrington is shoving him backwards and they’re both drunk and Billy falls over and cracks his head against the window.

“I’m so sorry,” Harrington is still saying, thirty minutes later at the E.R., “You’ve just never said I love you before, I like, I was surprised,” and the nurse is trying to hide the fact that she’s laughing at them as she stitches Billy up.

Billy’s rolling his eyes. “I can’t believe you’re the one who actually managed to make me bleed when you hit me with glass on this stupid fucking night.”

He ignores Harrington’s sputtering protests and apologies until he can’t stand the stupid, sad puppy-dog eyes, and then Billy kisses him and they go home.

40:

“We’re too old to go out for New Year’s,” Harrington is complaining, even though he’s standing by the door holding his jacket. He’s got the porch light on already, a clear sign he’s ready to go out. Billy rolls his eyes and adjusts his earring before he wanders over to meet Harrington by the door.

“We’re not too old to go out for New Year’s,” Billy says, and this time he makes sure that Harrington can see him rolling his eyes. “We told everyone we’d be there. We’re going to have a good time.”

“Twenty-three years of good times with you is more than enough for me,” Harrington’s saying, but he’s pulling on his coat, so Billy lets it slide.

“Sweetheart,” he says, adjusting Harrington’s scarf, smoothing his collar, little excuses to touch him, to see his ring reflecting the Christmas lights up around the door. “It’s our first New Year’s Eve as a married couple. We’re getting wasted.”

“What’s wasted?” say two little voices, in unison. An embarrassed babysitter chases them into the room.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Hs,” she says, her eyes wide. “Uh, don’t say wasted, kids?”

Billy watches Harrington abandon the hand he’d had on the doorknob to go and scoop up one of their daughters. Jasmine looks at him with big eyes, like she’s still waiting for an answer. Billy gives up and goes to scoop Chloe up, too. He kisses the tip of her nose and then looks at the babysitter like, I’ll kill you if you tell anyone you saw that.

Billy remembers being fifteen, cold on the beach, a bottle in his hand. “It’s like floating on bubbles,” he tells them. “That’s what your daddies are going to do tonight.”

He can hear Harrington judging him as he leans over to press a kiss against Jasmine’s head, too. The girls are little, he doesn’t think they’ll remember.

Not like Billy remembers being fifteen, not like he remembers seventeen, alone and cold and hurt, until headlights pulled over on the side of the road, and he and Harrington drank until they were truly wasted, until midnight had come and gone, until they were cleaning up bottles together the next morning, hungover and in high school, and hurting, both of them.

They’ve spent a lot of New Year’s Days since, cleaning up bottles, sharing smiles across the room.

“You know,” Harrington says, “We could stay in with the girls tonight. Our first New Year’s as a legally married family.”

And Billy’s gotta admit, it’s not the worst idea Harrington’s ever had.

Later, when the girls fall asleep drinking seltzer colored with a little orange juice and spill it all over the floor, shattering the champagne glasses Harrington had agreed to, Billy thinks maybe it’s the best idea Harrington’s ever had.

#harringrove #my fic #shameless t swift references abound #tw: child abuse #they end up dads #tumblr tried to kill me with these italics guys it was a battle #I hope you're spending the night exactly how you want to be xoxo

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clevernewdimension · 6 years

Text

Baby (M)

Purge AU

In the city lives a man more powerful than all the rest. The head of the Triad in America, a man so feared no many people dare cross him. He dabbles in smuggling weapons and drugs, assassinations and political blackmailing. However, even a man like Yixing has boundaries, and those are to not get into human trafficking or running sex rings.

A man as powerful as him find it hard to retain personal relationships. Which is why, after meeting with some vile and morally reprehensible man, he paid off some of his working girls debts and asked her to be his sugar baby. He told her that, so long as she was willing, he’d make sure her every wish was granted. Yixing never made her have sex if she didn’t feel like it or forced her to do anything she was uncomfortable with.

After years of this on going relationship, she finally, for the first time, asks him for a favor. To have the man Yixing brought her from killed.

Genre: Action, Gore, and smut.

Word count: 7.7K

A/N: Trigger warnings for gore, blood, death, And you know... crucifixion and burning someone alive... no big deal, right? Seriously, if these trigger you, DO NOT READ.

I smile, looking at my reflection as I trace my lips with a deep wine colored lipstick. It was the day before all hell breaks loose, and I wanted to be the picture of perfection for him today. After all, I wanted to ask him for a favor, and I had to be a good girl in order to get it. My high rise apartment was glittering and the definition of modern and elegant. He made sure when he bought it for me. He made sure I had everything I could have ever wanted. That was the deal, after all.

Being someone’s sugar baby is awful if the person is terrible, but fun and amazing if the person is exactly what you wanted. Luxury is standard, but being sad and lonely in it makes it seem like you’re materialistic. However, we have to be careful. It’s easy for babies to be used. I heard about the woman who was one for some political figure who sounded like a total asshole. She got pregnant and he left her all on her own. Her sugar daddy was the awful kind. Powerful but greedy. Expecting to fuck, leave cash or gifts and bounce. That is the majority of the people who seek out people like me.

Mine is different. He’s the head of a family with old money. So many zeros it made my head swim. It helps to amass that amount when your family is heavily tied to and a part of the Triad. When they moved to America from China years ago, their influence grew and now, their gang is unrivaled here. My sugar daddy is the head of that whole thing. He sits upon a throne of drug and smuggling money. He doesn’t do human trafficking or pimping, saying he does have a soul. He also doesn’t have people killed lightly, either. Violence can be a tool to help people learn, but death just leaves a useless dead body.

After a few months of our agreement, I asked him more about himself. He’s not married, which is a blessing. Wives complicate things, even if they know about you. They’ll claim they are not jealous, but secretly try to ruin you. He’s tried dating before me, he said, but it never worked out. Something about the people he’s dated ending up being those who wanted to be what I would lovingly refer to as a trophy spouse. Gold diggers and arm candy. So he came and found me. He wanted regular sex without the strings attached. I’m just happy that this has worked well so far… well, and he loved giving me anything and everything I want. Which is funny, because I never ask for anything. He constantly pays my rent and any bills, makes sure my fridge is stocked and would send me gifts without my having to ask.

I smile bitterly, putting one of the many necklaces he’s gotten me on. The rubies glittering in contrast with the black dress. It’s a shame. My first daddy I felt nothing for. He was an ok fuck, but loved giving me gifts in exchange for blowjobs. He left and my current one, Yixing, came along not long after. He was handsome as sin and fucked me like that was his god given purpose. Like he was placed on this earth in order to make me reach every height of pleasure one could ever imagine. Somewhere along the way, he opened up, I got to know him personally and I fell in love.

My biggest mistake. He wanted no strings attached, and it’s taking everything I have not to tie him down and make him mine forever.

What we have is suppose to be purely professional. How can I not fall for someone who cares for everything about me? Sends me to spas when I ache and makes sure everything in my life is sorted for me, the list goes on and on. It was because of him I was able to pay off the debt I owed the pimp I was under and able to escape from under his thumb. I owe him everything.

Which is funny that a man who looks like he could be a god sank so low as to choose a baby like me. Zhang Yixing deserves everything, and all I can do is spread my legs for him. He deserves happiness and I’ll never be the one to give that to him. He wanted a family, children and all that. I felt a deep bitter hate for whomever was going to be his wife for being able to make him happy like that. To complete his life in a way I will never be able to. That truth burned me to my very soul.

I hear the door open as I look, seeing Yixing standing there in a black suit. His hair black as he just looks at me, eyes trailing all over my body. Just the sight of him in a suit like that made me want to beg him to fuck me already. I am so whipped for him it isn’t even funny.

He comes close, pressing his lips to my neck, smirking when I let out a tiny little moan. Just the littlest of touches make me want to give him everything. It was a little embarrassing. “Baby girl,” He whispers, biting my skin softly for a moment. I lean back into him, closing my eyes and enjoying the feel of him on me. I wanted to feel this forever. I feel him smirking against my skin, “We’re going to be late.”

“I just need my shoes,” I say, smiling. All I wanted to do was say screw the dinner. We could stay here, order in and get lost in each other. But Yixing is a man of refinery. Take out is hardly good enough for someone like him. He bit my shoulder lightly again, sucking and looking at me in the mirror.

He knew just what drives me crazy.

The dinner was fine. French and lovely as I smiled, the bill being taken away as I reach out, taking his hand in mine. I’ve spent all day trying to convince myself to say this. It’s not like he’s mean. Yixing has been nothing but sweet to me, even when doing things like spanking me or choking me. It took me a while to convince him that I liked that, too. He’s a sweetheart deep down… well, at least to whomever is in his bed at the time.

He looks at me with a smirk, “Are you going to tell me what’s been on your mind the whole dinner?”

“I… I want to ask you a favor,” I mutter, getting quiet. My hands hold his tighter as I look away for a moment, trying to regain my composure.

This has peaked his interest. “Go on, baby,” He says, letting his thumb rub into the skin of my hand softly.

“You remember Ferdinand,” I say, looking at him. Saying his name made me feel sick just thinking about it. “I… I want him dead.”

Yixing looks genuinely surprised. He lets out the smallest laugh, “I wasn’t expecting that.” Yixing just shakes his head, looking at me. His eyes glued to mine, “May I ask why?”

“He… he wasn’t kind. As you know already I was his... personal woman for a while and… he hurt me,” I mutter, “For a long time. When I first got involved, I never really wanted to be a hooker for him. I was just fifteen and my father was in trouble with him. Once he died, Ferdinand took me. I owed the debt, you know,” I say, looking at my hand in his. My father was a sick man with an addiction to gambling. He died and left all the debt from Ferdinand to me. Asshole. “Lets just say all the slaps, bruises and torture from him wasn’t consensual. So, I know you probably don’t want to be told what to do, bu-”

“Consider it done,” Yixing says, cutting me off.

I snap my eyes to him, seeing him look at me, an anger held in his eyes. He looked like it was hard for him to hold back his feelings. “Baby, I wish you would have told me sooner,” He mutters, reaching over and cupping my face. “I would have given you his head on a silver platter if I knew.” That sentence made my heart soar as he just smiles at me, “No one hurts you and gets away with it.”

“I want to see it,” I mutter, “I want people to see him suffer.”

“That’s why you want it on Purge night, hm?” Yixing asks, nodding. He smiles, “That can be arranged.” He slides his thumb over my lip, not caring at all about the lipstick. I smirk, opening my mouth and sucking on it, letting my tongue slide against it. The look in his eyes gets darker. He smiles, the look I’ve grown so familiar with coming to life. “What my baby wants, my baby gets. Everyone will see him at his weakness.”

I let his thumb go, smirking. I don’t know why I was so scared of asking him. He’d always made me happy with everything. “What if I wanted his whole crew dead?”

“Then I would have them all slaughtered,” He says with a smile, taking a sip from his glass of water. His eyes still on me, as I could see the beginnings of lust grow there. I recognize it, after so long of being with him.

“And the women that worked for him? What if I wanted them to finally have freedom?”

“Then they will all given some money and a new chance at life.” He smiles, “I will made sure those things are done for you, because I have a feeling they are not hypothetical questions.”

He could read me like a book most of the time. Yixing always knows when I’m speaking in hypotheticals and when I’m not. Just another reason why my heart belonged to this wonderful and powerful man. I smile, “What if I wanted you?”

Yixing just chuckles a little bit, “Baby, you already have me. You know you are a goddess and I am nothing but your devoted worshiper. That why I’ll give you anything you want and more.” He smiles, “You are worth everything, my dear.”

“You really know how to make me feel special,” I say, smiling. My heart beating fast as I look at the soft smile his face wore. I knew he meant every single word he spoke. He’s proven it countless times.

“Of course,” He says, as the waiter drops off his card. He nods to the man, before smiling at me. “You are the only one for me.”

Part of me wanted to say until a woman worthy enough to marry comes along. I know him. He’s not the type to see two people at once. If he marries, she’ll be the only one for him. I force out a smile, “Then, come on. I didn’t wear this itchy lace lingerie all night for you to waste time staring at me with my dress on.”

I could see the attraction in his eyes intensify. They look down, towards the bit of cleavage I have on show for him before looking back up, lips bitten between this teeth for a moment. “You spoil me,” He mutters, standing and helping me out of my seat. He slips his card in his wallet, looking at me with a smirk that made me feel weak in the knees. I smile, walking beside him as I feel him lace our fingers together. It didn’t take long for the valet to drive his car to us. He hands the kid some bills as a tip, and I smile hearing the kid gasp.The kid was thanking him profusely as I moved, getting in the passenger seat he opened for me before he gets in the driver seat.

The drive wouldn’t be long, but the sight of him sitting there, both hands on the wheel made me feel impatient. The windows tinted dark as I smirk, reaching over. With a finger I trace him through his pants, hearing him hum, before looking at me. He smirks, “Baby, why are you acting so desperate for my cock?”

“Because I want to make you happy, Daddy,” I mutter, pulling the upper part of the seat belt from around me. I give him a quick wink, “You do so much for me, I want to make sure you’re happy too.” I lean over, reaching and popping the button open and pulling the zipper down. It wasn’t long before I got him out, licking at the leaking tip. The sight of him aching for me made me feel powerful. I was the one who made him feel this way. I was teasing him, licking and kissing the tip, waiting for him to say something.

“Baby,” He moans, as I see out the corner of my eyes his fingers tighten around the steering wheel. The hum of pleasure he let loose made me smile.

I knew the drive wasn’t long, as I sink down, moaning. I loved having his cock in my mouth. I can’t count how many times I’ve blown him as he spoke on the phone talking some mafia business. The many times I hid under his desk and would suck him off after getting the text to meet at his place. I feel one of his hands move to my hair, dictating my moves. I moan, wrapping my lips around him tighter. I could hear him speed up a bit, knowing he was getting just as desperate I was. The taste was addicting as I let myself feel pride, hearing him moan.

I was the one pleasing him. No one else but me.

He pull me off, hand tightly gripping my hair. I didn’t have a chance to even as why before I feel him press our lips together. With a quick glance I look out the window, seeing we were back at his place. The pride I felt knowing he probably sped her as quick as he could to get here so quickly filled me. I moan into the kiss, wanting to give everything over to him right this very instant. His tongue massaging mine, his kisses always so sensual that it’s hard to believe he had no love for me. He pulls me away, looking me in the eyes as he just smiles, “Babe, I want you to take that dress off. I want your ass laying on that grass and I want you to let me have my way with you, do you hear me?”

“The grass, hm,” I ask smirking. “Did I make you want me that badly?”

“I’ve been wanting to fuck you since the moment I left you last night,” He mutters against my mouth, biting my bottom lips quickly. “The thoughts I had of you all day was already enough, but then you dress like this? You blow me in the car?” He laughs, “Babe, don’t you know I always want you?”

The fact that he couldn’t wait to fuck me long enough to get into the house made me almost moan. We haven’t done this on the front lawn yet, so this is exciting. Every other inch of his mansion has been a part of our passionate fucking at one point or another. Even the fountain in the backyard was christened. I smile, unbuckling my seat belt. “Can you help me,” I ask, turning my back to him. I feel him quickly pull the zipper down on the dress. I stand, losing the dress and letting it fall into the driveway without a second thought. My red set of matching bra and panties I slip out of the shoes, moving and laying on the grass. I lay first with my ass up, showing him the sexy and lacy underwear. He loved my ass. His hands would sometimes find it when we slept next to one another, grabbing it through the night. I smile, turning and stretching, before looking and seeing Yixing.

He kneels, face between my legs as he pulls the underwear down. His eyes on mine the entire time. “Wasting no time today,” I say with a smirk. I lift my hips, letting him pull the panties down before he uses his hands fingers trailing over my thighs as he pulls them open. His long fingers massaging the skin of my thighs.

“How could I when all I want to do is touch you,” He mutters, eyes appreciating every inch of my body. “Baby,” He says, biting his lips as he looks over me, “Every day I get to see you is like a blessing. But any time I have you like this, with your legs open and your cunt dripping for me,” He says, leaning forward, his tongue licks up my slit, making me moan. It was slow, soft, but leaving me feel like someone just electrocuted my body with how it craves him. He loved doing this, dragging it along to make sure I felt it. He smiles, looking me in the eyes, “It’s a miracle, one that I’m always and forever will be thankful for.”

“Yixing,” I mutter, looking down at him, “Please.” I need him. His hands on me and to forget about my feelings for a few moments. I wanted to get lost in the lust, in the primal need to feel pleasure for a few moments.

“I aim to please,” He mutters, before I feel a finger slip into me. I shutter, feeling him angle it perfectly to make me shiver. His hot tongue pressing onto my clit, making me grab onto his hair. We’ve been here before, but every time it feels like it’s better than the last. Yixing has been my Daddy for years and sex has never been boring with him. Every movement of his tongue, the addition of another finger made me want to cry it felt so good. He was sin personified as I glanced down, seeing him either with his eyes closed enjoying himself as he eats me out or looking at me directly, eyes wide and watching for every reaction my body gave him. When he started to suck at my clit was when I knew I wouldn’t last long anymore. I cried, telling him I was close. He didn’t stop. He didn’t slow down. I moaned, feeling the beginning of my orgasm coming up. It was going to be one of those nights.

The bliss crashed into me, making me cry out his name. I was clawing at the ground and any part of him I could get my hand on. Even as I was yelling his name, clinging onto him, still he didn’t slow. He wanted another as his eyes looked at me, staring into me as he added another finger.

“Fuck, Daddy,” I moan, pressing my thighs against his head. I was grinding against his face, feeling tears come to my eyes as I feel myself tipping over the edge again. My yells of praise for him in the air, my mind turning to mush as I let myself go. I could feel tears falling from my eyes from how quick it was, how sensitive it is already. When I finally came back down, I looked to him, my chest heaving as I breathed in deeply.

This time, he pulls away, smiling. My wetness on his face as he just licks his lips, wiping the rest away with his shirt sleeve. Fuck, he was so sexy like this. He wasn’t like any Daddy I’ve had, any other man I fucked. He wants me to feel this bit of heaven. He cares about my pleasure. Everyone else just fucks me and would brag about the skills they don’t have. Yixing was different. God, he practically got off to giving me orgasms. Many nights we’ve spent together where he would just tie me up and make me fall from that peak over and over until I was drunk on the feeling and couldn’t walk. He would just watch, singing praises about me as his eyes were glued to me.

The best part of it is the looking in his eyes after. The pride, but not for himself. The pride in me that I would let him do this. How proud he was that I agreed to be his. The adoration he would have just watching me make me want to do anything for this man. How can I see the way he looks at me like this and not fall for him?

“Baby girl, you are the most beautiful woman,” he mutters, as I watch him start to undress. I reach behind me, taking off the bra as he takes his shirt off. I see the tattoo of the phoenix on his arm and the tiger on his other. One one of his forearms is a dagger tattoo, a perfect black and white replica of the dagger he used to kill the man who killed his mother. Over his heart, in Mandarin, said loyalty. I smile at him, seeing the man I could never get enough of looking at me like I was the sexiest thing he’s ever seen.

It was completely addicting, seeing him over me, under me, reaching his peak and knowing I’m the one that did that to him. And why I could never let him know my true feelings because I didn’t want to lose this.

“Please Daddy,” I moan, wrapping my legs around him as he pushes his pants and underwear down his hips. I pull him to me, feeling his hard cock rubbing against my core. I moan, looking and seeing it stained with my lipstick from earlier.

Yixing leans, pressing his lips to mine in a deep kiss. He didn’t care if he got lipstick on him when we kissed. I loved leaving lipstick stains on his body as he presses himself into me. It made me, for a moment, feel like he was mine. I wrap my arms around him, nails digging into his back. We haven’t used a condom for years now. Every other precaution we take but this. I wanted to feel him completely. God, the first time I asked him not to wear it, the look his eyes held made it feel like there was a river in my panties. He looked at me like I had given him a precious gift.

“Fuck me,” I mutter, against his lips, feeling him sliding slowing out. I wanted to fast. I didn’t want him to go slow, to make love to me. I can’t take slow, love making when I know the emotions were not there from him.

Before he could do anything. I feel cold water spraying. I look, seeing the sprinkler system on. Yixing growls, “Fuck,” He mutters. He pulls away, about to get up.

I tighten my legs around him, “Zhang Yixing, if you don’t fuck me this instant, I won’t let you touch me the rest of the goddamn night.”

He looks at me, lips stained in lipstick. The water soaking us both already, his hair dripping as the water rains down on us. He smirks, placing one of his hands on my hip, the other moving towards my head, gripping at the hair at the base of my skull. His hips smash into me so fast, in such a fluid motion I was immediately yelling. I was sensitive already, combine that with the way he can move just made me feel like I was made of jello.

His teeth bite into my neck, making me cry out, tears falling from my eyes. The hand on my hip moves, grabbing one of my hands and lacing our fingers together. His lips moved to my ear, whispering not filthy words or names, but praises, telling me I was beautiful and stunning, how he adores me and wanted me to have anything my heart could desire. My heart felt heavy, knowing that he was fucking me like I was a lover but knowing I was just his sugar baby.

I screamed out another orgasm, the mix of his hot body on mine and the cold water making me lose myself into these feelings. I desperately wanted to forget that he held no actual love for me. It was all just for my body.

He stilled, and I feel him come within me. He presses himself against me, collapsing as his lips were molding themselves to mine. They were soft, slowly kissing me. He pulls away, smiling at me.

He pulled away just as the sprinklers stopped. The water dripping into me as he just looks me in the eyes. “How was that, my queen,” He asks, smirking at me.

My emotions fighting in me to tell him the truth made me hesitate to speak. I just went with the playful flirting after a moment of pause. “If I’m the queen, are you my king,” I ask, catching my breath along with him.

“Of course,” He says, moving and leaving soft kisses on my shoulder and neck.

I smile, deciding to be playful in order to distract from my feelings, “Then aren’t queens suppose to have a crown? A throne?”

“I can have a crown made for you,” He says, “I’d rather have no one else as my queen. Everyone else would be jealous of you. Yellow gold? White? Covered in jewels?”

I roll my eyes, my mouth speaking before I could stop it. “If anything, I’d be the mistress.” I freeze after saying that, biting my lips closed.

Yixing moved, looking me in the eyes. He looked upset, but not angry, “Baby, for you to be the mistress, that would mean I would have to have someone else as my queen.” He shakes his head, “You are the only woman for me. No one else compares to you. I love you.”

It took everything I had to hold back a look of pain. That’s all I wanted, to be his. Not just his sugar baby, but his. To love and grow old together. He tell me he loves me all the time, but I know it isn’t true. He gets caught up in the moments easily. But hearing it all the same hurts. I smile, “That’s what I wanted to hear.” Even if I knew it was a lie. One day he would find a woman worthy of his love. Worthy to be his wife. “You know I just want to hear you praise me,” I say with a smile.

“And I love praising you,” He says, “We’re a perfect fit.” He smirks, “Besides, I thought you already knew where your throne was.”

I pout, confused, “No. Where?”

The mischievous look on his face told me I’d fallen for whatever little joke he was thinking of. He smiles, pressing his lips to mine, “Baby girl, you know your rightful throne is my face.”

I frown, a few hours before the sirens go off to signal the start of the Purge. I hear people talk about the Carnival with glee as I just pass by. I wore sweatpants, my hair up in a messy bun. I was picking at a pretzel from one of the stands along the street. The cinnamon sugar on it made me smile a little, trying to think about what I should wear tonight. The sweater I wore was too big as I walked along the street. I threw the trash away, looking at the shops. I just went to get something at my bank sorted, as they’ve been pestering me about it for a little while.

I feel a hand snake around my waist as I turn, seeing Yixing smile at me. I blush, looking at what I was wear. I push his face away, “Don’t look at me! I look awful!”

“You’re beautiful,” He says, swatting my hand away softly. His warm tone making me shiver a little.

“I’m not wearing makeup and I look like this,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“I’ve seen you like this before, Babe,” He says, leaning down and pressing his lips to mine in a quick kiss. “What you asked me for, don’t you worry. The plan is ready,” Yixing mutters quietly.

“What are you doing out here,” I ask, smiling. It took everything I had to smile and not feel completely inferior and worthless when standing next to him. It bad enough I was average near him when I’m dressed to the nines, but even worse when next to him now. He wore the finest suit, the jacket probably in his car as his sleeves are rolled up his forearms. He looked like perfection. I was just a dumpster in comparison.

“Talking to my friend, Kyungsoo,” Yixing says, “He asked me for information on these doctors. A client of his wants them dead. It’s fine. What are you doing?”

“Just a little thing with the bank, it’s ok,” I say, shrugging. “I was just going to relax before… well, whatever you had planned for the night.”

“I just had an errand to pick up before I got a call from my friend,” Yixing says. Two women pass us, their eyes looking him up and down before moving to me. The glare of jealousy made me feel pride. Somehow I’ve tricked him into keeping me around. His eyes never left me. I stop, smiling before getting on my toes and pressing our lips together. His hands move to my hips, as he smiles against my lips before kissing me back.

He smiles, pulling away. “Baby, tonight will be very special.”

“Really,” I ask, before we start to walk again. The smile he gives me make me feel weak. This man treats me so well.

“Well it’s not every day my Baby asks for something,” He says with a small grin. “Well… unless it’s food.”

That made me wince internally. I need to diet, I know my love of food can’t be attractive. My stomach isn’t as toned as it use to be, and if I let myself slip more he’ll find another woman prettier and slimmer. If I let myself go, I’ll lose Yixing. I will never be the woman that is his wife, but like hell will I lose my place as the woman whose bed he seeks. “I just… it’s very important to me,” I mutter.

“I could tell,” He says, a small smile. “You never ask me for anything. All the gifts I give, you’ve never asked for any of it. I offer the world to you on a plate, money no option, and yet you’ve never told me anything you wanted. He leans in, mouth by my ear, “Well, unless it’s in the bedroom, that is.”

“That’s because you’re irresistible,” I whisper back, smirking. “Are you going to make me say those things later tonight too?” I stop, turning with my mouth right next to his ear, quietly whispering as I moan into his ear, “Daddy, please, faster! Harder! Fuck me and cum in my pussy, please!”

One hand moves my face, so he could press his lips to mine once more. His tongue forced its way into my mouth as he let his hunger for me take over a moment. With a bite to my bottom lip, he pull away. Yixing chuckles, “You know how to make me feel wanted.” He presses a kiss to my temple, before looking at his watch. “I have a little bit of business to attend to. Go to my place. It starts soon and the security there will keep you safe.”

I did just that. His house is grand, a huge mansion where a couple of members of the Triad live. I walked in, and they all knew me and have come to expect me. I spent the day in the bathtub and getting a massage from his personal masseuse. I had to be sure that I looked as good as I could tonight after he saw me looking like trash.

I could hear the siren, starting the Purge. I was in his walk in closet. A section of it was mine as I look between the dresses. I pick out a rather revealing one, showing off quite a bit of cleavage. It was navy, going to the floor. The thin straps on my shoulders. A cut going low, down between the valley of my breasts. I wore no bra or underwear, wanting to give Yixing a little treat.

It’s a treat for myself, too. It’s exhilarating when I see his eyes on me. Sometimes like I hypnotized him. This powerful man who could make people die in minutes and who had blackmail on even the most powerful people in this country was watching me. Sometimes he stared like I was a stunning beauty. Sometimes, his gaze was like he wanted to corrupt and devour me.

And I would let him in a heartbeat every fucking time.

I kept my makeup light, looking more natural as I looked at myself in the mirror. I look up, seeing Yixing leaning against the door frame, his eyes on me. I smile, turning and looking at him. He was still dressed similarly, but this time with no tie. The sleeves rolled up at his eyes travel over my body. I smirk, holding out a hand, gesturing to my dress. “This ok,” I ask, looking up with a smile.

“My baby is more beautiful than any model on earth,” He says, as I walk towards him. His hands on my lips as I feel his lips on my neck. I let out a small moan, feeling him biting and sucking a park there.

“You flatter me too much,” I mutter, closing my eyes and moving my head to give him more room.

“It’s the truth,” He mutters in my ear, “You’re the most beautiful woman in the entire world. I’m lucky you let me anywhere near you.”

I was about to say something, but I feel him bite the skin of my neck, sucking harshly. I grab onto him, moaning louder as he pulls away, his eyes shining in amusement as he smirked at my reaction. He takes my hand, lacing our fingers together as he escorts me towards the garden.

The garden is large, trees and flowers everywhere. After that is a large lawn with nothing but scattered trees here and there. I see what looks like a makeshift stage, lights there. A camera, a lot of people working like this is a show as I looked at Yixing. He just smiles, pulling me along. “I told you, darling,” He mutters, “I was going to make sure you got what you wanted.”

“Mr. Zhang,” Someone says, walking up briskly, “We’re ready for you.”

He glances at me, “I would ask if you want to help, but you hate getting your hands dirty with blood.” He points, as I see what looks like a comfortable large chair to the side. “After, I would like you and I to take a walk. To the lake, if that’s alright?”

“Absolutely,” I say, before I feel him press a kiss to my temple. I sit down, right beside the camera.

Yixing moves, before I see the person with the camera holding up her fingers. “Live in Five… four… three…” After that, she just showed her fingers going down. She pointed at Yixing, giving him a thumbs up.

He smirks, looking at the camera, “Good evening. I do hope everyone is enjoying their Purge night!” He grins, crossing his arms as he just looked right into the camera. “A night full of blood, murder and debauchery. Three of my favorite things! However,” He says, looking at the camera with a hint of annoyance. “You see, there has been a roach living in our city for a while. He scams young teens and guilts them into being his women and men of the night.”

He turns, holding hi arm out as two men drag Ferdinand out, holding his arms. His blacked hair was in his face as he looked around frantically. Over his mouth was some tape, causing no one to hear the words he’s trying to scream. His suit looked expensive, obviously ripped and damaged from where he was jumped, I assume. His eyes meet mine and he glares, fighting harder against the people who were holding him.

Crack!

The sound of Yixing kicking the man across the face felt like it was right next to me. Yixing glares, grabbing his hair and pulling him to look in his eyes. A knife in his hand as he held it to Ferdinand’s neck. “You glare at My angel one more time like that, and I’ll make sure you suffer more than you already will.”

Yixing lets him go, shoving his face away as he stands up straight again. “This man takes children from their families and forces them to work for him. He takes those who have been cast out from their families, promises them a better life. Everything they could ever dream,” Yixing glares, looking back at him, “But he lies. No longer.”

Ferdinand looks at Yixing as he rips the tape off his mouth. “All the people under your control are free. Under my protection for the rest of the night and, tomorrow, will be given cash in order to start a new life. Be it here or somewhere else. Every person who worked for you are currently being fed to the fishes in the harbor.”

“You can’t do this, Zhang,” Ferdinand growls, trying to pull away from the two men holding him. “I’ll give you anything you want. Let me go and we’ll talk this out.”

Yixing crouches, a camera moves to get a better shot. He smirks at him, “No can do. What my baby asks for, my baby gets. Nothing can stop it. No money you have, no item you own, no favor you promise will stop that.”

Ferdinand looks at me, glaring, “You fucking cunt! I’ll ki-”

Before he could do anything, I see Yixing take the long knife out, holding one of his ears and slicing. I hear a blood curdling scream as I just smile, seeing him suffer finally. Yixing looks at the ear in disgust, holding it before dropping it without a care. “I told you not to glare at her,” He mutters darkly, “Now, if you so much as look at her again, I’ll keep you alive until just before this night ends.”

My heart swells, hearing him so protective of me. The fierceness in his eyes as he glares in Ferdinand's eyes made me smile.

Yixing turned back to the main camera. “You all know him. The neighborhood pimp who thinks of himself to be the coming of Christ,” Yixing says, rolling his eyes. “How many times have we heard him call himself a god? That no one in the city was more powerful than he was?” Yixing looks back, scoffing, “I decided to call his bluff.”

I see three men carrying what looked like a heavy wooden cross up into the stage. Yixing just smiles, looking at it. “I decided, that for someone who calls himself god and the reincarnation of Christ, he deserves to suffer just the same.”

Ferdinand looks at him, his eyes full of fear as he watches them lay the cross down. A few people moving, pulling him over it as Yixing grabs a huge hammer, tossing the nails to other people to hold down.

One hand held down against the wood, a nail positioned and ready.

“This is for every single person whose lives you’ve infected,” Yixing mutters, as the camera moves closer. I stand, looking closer as I see him smash the hammer down. Ferdinand’s screams of pain were like music. The blood seeping out as He pushed the nail further and further so it would hold the hand there. Yixing smile looking over at me before moving on. The hands were easy, the legs are what is going to be difficult, but Yixing still hammered the nail into his feet.

After, he helped the people raise the cross, Ferdinand screaming in agony as it’s moved into a little hold made for it to stand up straight. Yixing smiles, looking at him. I smile, seeing as the man who was a nightmare to me scream in pain. I see him wet himself, making me laugh. I hope he feels pain for all that he’s caused. I hope he feels humiliated, like he’s trapped with nowhere to go.

Specks of blood are all over Yixing face, shirt and arms. He built up a sweat as he looks over at me. “Angel, should we leave him to suffer, or should we let him feel the flames of hell early?”

“End it,” I say, looking at the blonde man. “The quicker you’re done with him, the quicker you can focus back on me.”

“Anything you want, Darling,” He says, smiling as the people who work for him knew immediately to go get things to start the fire. Yixing looks at the camera, “He’s just the first. No one should be forced to work the streets if it isn’t their own choice.” I smile, watching them get a gas can and pour it on the hay they brought, as well as on Ferdinand. He looked at me, yelling screams and begging me to stop this. I just looked at Yixing. He was looking at me, smiling softly, “Next year, I’ll dismantle another empire built on pain and rape. I’ll do it until this city is clean of it, and my Baby is finally happy. I’d suggest you all either move to another city or give yourselves up.” Yixing smirks, looking back at Ferdinand for a moment, before glaring back at the camera, “Or this will be you next.”

He reaches in one of his pockets, dropping the knife to the ground as he takes out a zippo lighter. He flicks it open, the flame igniting as he tosses it on the hay and the gasoline that was poured on Ferdinand. The screams were loud, as He hops off the stage, “Keep it live until the flames go out. I want everyone to see what I’m willing to do for my beautiful baby.” He looks at me, taking a towel from one of the people behind the camera, wiping away the blood on his face and arms.

I take his hand, smiling as he leads me away, towards the lake on the other side of the estate. “Thank you,” I mutter, once we’re out of earshot, “For everything.”

He smiles, pulling me to sit by the bench near the lake. I smile, leaning my head on his shoulder as I listen to crickets and seeing the fish jumping out of the water. He moves his hand, resting it on my thigh as I feel him kiss my head.

“Baby,” He mutters, quietly. “I got something for you.”

I move, turning to him. I see him turn to me, taking my hands in his. He leans forward, pressing his lips to mine in a quick kiss. I could feel my face heat up at this as he looks down at our hands. He holds mine, smiling. “Baby… this time we’ve had together has been great.”

I feel my heart stop. Tears start to fill my eyes as I remember hearing some other sugar babies talk about this. If your Daddy starts talking like this, he’s going to tell you he wants a new one. I shake my head, listening.

“We’ve been amazing, you and me,” He says, smiling, “There are so many days with you I will never forget. I-”

“Are… are you ending this,” I ask, feeling tears fall down my face. My heart hurt just with the thought of never seeing him like this. That there would be someone else to be his baby, that will get to be under him and receive all the praises he sings. “I-i’m sorry if I did anything wrong. Please don’t get rid o-of me.”

Yixing looks his, his eyes wide, “No, baby, not that! I would never.” He shakes his head, “Y/N,” He says, quietly, “I can’t imagine my life without you.”

I smile, feeling my heart soar. Good, he wasn’t replacing me yet. I still had some time to make any doubt he could have disappear.

I see him reach into his pocket, “I… I want to make this permanent. Us.” He says, looking up with a grin. He moves to the grass, one knee on the ground as he opens a small little box. “Somewhere along the lines, I fell for you. I love you. I tell you this all the time.” He blushes, “I… I’ve stopped thinking that you were my sugar baby for a long time. I never asked if you were my girlfriend because I thought you knew.” He shakes his head, smiling and showing me that amazing dimple, “I shouldn’t have assumed. I’m so sorry. Y/N, I want you. Not just for the night. I want you forever. As long as I live I want you next to me as an equal.” Yixing reaches out, wiping the tears from my face his the hand not holding the box with the ring. “I want the honor of being your husband. I want you, I want us,” He says, holding my cheek at he smiles, “Will you marry me?”

I move, my knees falling to the ground as I pull him into the tightest hug. “I love you,” I say, crying. “I love you so much. I thought you would leave me when you wanted to marry. I thought I wasn’t good enough-”

“You are more than enough,” He says, kissing my forehead. “I adore you. I want to spend the rest of my life loving you. Will you let me?”

“Yes,” I say, moving and pressing my lips to his. “Fuck, Yixing, yes, yes, a thousand times yes!”

#exo fanfic #exo smut #exo scenarios #exo fanfiction #lay fanfiction #lay smut #lay fanfic #lay scenarios #yixing scenarios #yixing fanfic #yixing smut #zhang yixing scenarios #zhang yixing fanfic #zhang yixing smut

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ramblinganthropologist · 6 years

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Inktober Day 4 - Spell

Summary: What was it that Alistair felt that day back on the Normandy shuttle when his hands ran blue with Turian blood? He doesn’t know, but maybe two assholes from a hell planet might be able to help him figure it out. Maybe they can do something besides kick his ass for a few hours. (Mass Effect - Dragon Age crossover)

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There was something about magic that made him want to smash someone's head in. Maybe it was a stress reaction?

Sweat dripped down Alistair Shepard's forehead as he hid behind the roughly erected barrier, a short length of wood clutched in his hands. He had no gun this time to help him, and they had taken his omni-tool as well. All he had for defense was this dumb stick against... well, a literal mountain of a man.

The book had said Hawke was scary. Apparently both of them were.

“I think you scared him off, Moses.” The gremlin was talking. She didn't sound to be scampering around at the very least, so he didn't need to worry about surprise attacks from about his shoulder area. Of course, she could always spot him and dive bomb – there was a lovely cut from that on his arm already. “Want to call it a day?”

“Might as well.”

It was a trap, Alistair knew it. However, he was exhausted from running from them and starting to feel a little light headed. Enough times behind a wall had taught him what it felt like when he reached his limit. He was beyond that point and heading for a full on crash. Worst of all, his opponents barely had a scratch on them.

It was a piss poor showing, but damn if he had the proper equipment he wouldn't be getting his ass kicked so hard.

“Come on, Shepard, you're embarrassing yourself. Why don't you come out and we can finish this like grown ups?” Hilarious, coming from an imp of a woman who didn't even stand five feet tall when she was in her heavy armor. “I'm getting bored and you do NOT want me coming to find you.”

“You don't.” The mountain's voice was as deep as he expected it to be, but was there amusement there? “Besides, I see you.”

Fuck, he should have considered aerial.

Alistair barely had time to react – he rolled out of the way just as the bright purple of a blade slashed down where his shoulder would have been. His opponents had found him and had him basically against the wall. With both of them in their armor and one wielding a glowing sword... well, rock and a hard place was putting it mildly.

The imp was grinning as she rested her sword against her shoulder. “Give up yet, Shepard? Cause I'm getting kinda hungry here.”

Hungry and bored, always a wonderful combo. Alistair didn't back down, however. Instead he just gripped his stupid piece of wood tighter. It might not have been an assault rifle, but it was going to have to do for now.

Now... what the fuck had he been taught? Focus... focus...

And then came the bolt of lightning that shot straight out of the staff.

“Shit!” The imp was already three feet back and out of harm's way. “I think that's a sign you get the idea about primal magic. How do you turn this damn thing off?”

The room blurred, and they were back in the featureless training area they had been in for the last hour. Alistair sighed and slumped against the barrier he had been hiding behind. Sweat was pouring down his face, and both his hands and the staff were trembling. It was a miracle he was even standing on his feet at this point.

A small hand held out a towel. It was attached to Avery Hawke, one of his trainers. Well, trainer was putting it on a bit thick – her job was really just to annoy him enough to make him forget military training. His actual teacher was her younger brother, the large man he knew as Moses Hawke. Right then, both of them looked pretty pleased.

Which, honestly, kind of pissed him off as he wiped the sweat from his brow. They looked to be in perfect condition. Meanwhile, he was sweating enough to look like he had gone swimming. His head definitely was – his mouth and tongue had gone numb.

If he was guessing, his blood sugar had to be around 40. What a lovely thing, biotics and mages both being prone to low blood sugar. It was like they were basically the same category of fighter differed only by culture.

At least, that was the theory that had stuck Alistair Shepard and two of Thedas' most infamous book protagonists in a training room. Mostly it meant he ran around and tried to fire off spells they taught him on the fly. The lightning had only worked the second time – otherwise it was just getting his ass kicked.

“Shit, I got you pretty good didn't I?” Avery whistled as she examined his bleeding arm. With the low blood sugar, Alistair had forgotten all about it. He... should probably get some medi-gel for that. “Moses, mind helping the guy out?”

Moses nodded, but nudged his older sister. “Go get snacks for both of us.”

“Oh, bottoming out? On it.”

And the gremlin was gone, leaving Moses and Alistair alone. The large mage didn't have any medi-gel in his hands, however. In fact, he didn't have anything at all. Instead, he placed one of his large hands over Alistair's bleeding wound and just... sort of hovered it.

“Stay still. It's going to tingle.”

And then there was the light that came with the mentioned tingle. It felt more like his entire arm was on fire, but Alistair didn't move an inch. Instead, he watched with wide eyes as his skin started to knit together. Within seconds, his arm didn't have a scratch on it. Hell, there wasn't even a scar. When he prodded the skin, it felt whole. Maybe it was a little tingly, but it was like it had never been cut.

His mouth was dry as he tried to speak. “What- shit... blood sugar. No good when I'm hypo.”

It was a miracle he was making sense at all. Had he been wearing his omni-tool, Alistair would've known how bad his blood sugar currently was. Instead, he just had to guess. He wasn't shaking yet, so that was a good sign. Of course, he could nosedive into that soon enough. Hopefully wherever Avery was, she was moving her tiny legs as fast as they could go.

Moses kept his spot by the barrier, and he was too high up for Alistair to see his face without breaking his neck. To say he was hard to read was putting it mildly. It wasn't as if he was a small man, but being on the ground when his body was rebelling didn't make things easy. He just had to assume the big guy was ok.

Always a bad assumption to make, but it would have to do.

“It was healing magic.” Was he a mind reader? “That one is part of the creation school. We haven't gotten to it yet.”

No, it was all chucking fire balls, dodging walking bombs, and walking ass first into hexes. None of those he was particularly good at, but he was pretty good at getting hit with them. Honestly, it was amazing he was still standing. Creation school had been the first one not to totally suck, so it was alright by him.

Their conversation was interrupted by someone throwing a juice box into Alistair's lap. Avery beamed down at him, then lobbed one up to her brother who caught it with practiced ease. Then she settled onto the barrier quite like a cat, content to sip at her own box of juice.

It was apple, but who the fuck cared Alistair needed carbs.

Within a few minutes, his brain started working again. There was still the tingle on his arm that had yet to reside. Prodding it told him it felt like, well, normal flesh. Even with his brain back in functioning order, he couldn't tell anything different about it. Still, he had seen it get sliced open. Hell, his blood was on the floor. But... well, he couldn't argue with results.

“Aw, damn, I wanted to see his face when you healed him.” Avery sucked at her juice box indignantly. “Did you use the spirit stuff or the regular sparkles?”

Alistair picked up his head as he watched the two Hawkes converse. It didn't manner the answer – normal – but something popped in the back of his mind. He looked back down to his healed arm, and then to the blood.

Where... had he seen something like that? It...

And then he blinked back surprise as the memory surfaced. Part of it had been buried away, but there was just too damn much of it to forget. It came back first with the smell of blood. Not his blood, or even human blood. No, this stuff was blue and came from a Turian. And just like that... he was back.

---

Shit, he was losing too much blood.

“Stay with me, Garrus, we're almost back at the Normandy!”

Garrus couldn't answer. His face was literally hanging on by a thread on the right side, and he kept spitting up blue blood. They had managed to keep him from choking on it back at Omega, but his condition was only getting worse. He might just die right there in the shuttle, so close to the Normandy and yet so far.

Really, it was a miracle he was alive at all. He took a rocket to the face without medical aid until precious minutes later. Somehow he still had blood to lose in the mess that had once been the right side of his face. And oh, he was losing it fast.

And of course, it being Cerberus, there wasn't a drop of Turian blood on the shuttle. They'd be lucky if the Normandy had any at all.

Garrus was looking up at him, vision hazy as he flitted in and out of consciousness. His breathing was ragged, the blood flow wasn't stopping. Any more of this, and he was going to shut down completely. Yet they had run out of medi-gel just patching the biggest holes up. There was still so many small ones left, it was like trying to patch a sieve.

A sieve he cared so fucking much about...

Alistair pressed down hard to give Garrus a few more minutes. “Come on, Archangel, you're not going to die on me! You survived fucking Omega on your own!”

But Garrus couldn't answer his barb back – his omni-tool showed the Turian's vitals were getting worse by the section. There was only so much blood a body could lose, even if it was covered with metal and the knees bent all wrong. There was just no way to stop all the bleeding. He was dying on the floor of the shuttle and there was nothing Alistair could do.

He had lost people before on the battlefield. Hell, his entire unit had been eaten by a goddamn thresher maw. Blood and death was something Alistair was well used to by now. But there was something about all that blue blood and who it belonged to that was making it hard to breathe. It wasn't a panic attack – they didn't make his vision go light.

Let me help.

Bo? No – the larger marine was berating the shuttle driver to go faster. The two of them were in a right shouting match. Besides, the voice didn't sound like her. Instead, it made his entire body tremble. He felt lighter than ever before. Was he passing out?

Trust me. We can do this.

It felt like a trance. Alistair placed his hands over the largest wound, dangerously close to a vital artery and millimeters away from ripping open from the pressure. How it hadn't was beyond him – it had been nicked by the rocket.

His palms felt warm, and it wasn't from the blood. His entire body felt the tingle that made his hair stand on end. When it went away, it was like everything ha been sucked out from his hands. Yet, when he pulled them away...

the damn hole was, well, whole.

Garrus was still bleeding from a million other places, but the biggest risk had seemingly closed up on his own. Even better, they were docking on the Normandy where Chakwas was waiting to roll the Turian into emergency surgery. The walls and floor of the shuttle were painted metallic blue, but Garrus stilled twitched and moved as they loaded him up on the gurney. For the moment, he had survived. Now it was in the doctor's good hands.

Alistair's hands were just trembling instead as he watched, sitting in a mix of blood and his own sweat. His mind had gone numb, and his omni-tool was alerting him that his blood sugar was dropping to the low 50's. Still, he kept looking down at his hands, so coated in blood. He still felt the tingle.

What... was that?

---

“Hey, do you think he's dead? Should I poke him?”

“Don't. He might break your finger and I don't have enough lyrium to heal both of you.”

“Oh, you're no fun. I was going to do it with the flat of my sword or something.”

Alistair's brain clicked back on just as the Hawkes finished their conversation. It still wasn't on full function, that would take more sugar and time, but he was at a point where his tongue finally started working again. Hell, he could even string sentences together if he wanted to do so.

Carbs – what couldn't they do?

“Could you teach me healing magic?”

Moses had a small collection of empty juice boxes by him and was starting on another. Still, he put it down for the moment. Thanks to the angle he was sitting at, Alistair could see his face. He was... intrigued, maybe?

“Healing's one of the hardest schools. You either have it or you don't.”

Alistair managed a shrug as he felt his brain click back on completely. “I think I'd do better at it than nearly electrocuting Avery. Besides, it's the only one you haven't shown me yet.”

And maybe there was something to it – Moses had said something about the spirit stuff. Maybe that's what he needed to learn about. After all, it was hard to forget... whatever that was back on the shuttle. Though, he wasn't about to tell them that. He was pretty sure hearing voices wasn't great on their planet either. But maybe if they helped folks stay alive they could slide a little.

Maybe not; he was talking with the Hawkes after all. Varric hadn't lied that much. But at least it might get him out of getting his ass kicked for a little bit. He was always happy for that.

#ramblinganthropologist's writing #Alistair Shepard #Moses Hawke #Avery Hawke #I almost typed Moses Shepard and I know we're mixing shit but not that much #blood

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jinjikook · 7 years

Text

Sugar Sweet | 6 | (M) [Discontinued]

word count: 4.4k

genre: smut + fluff; college AU + fuckboy!kihyun

pairing: reader/kihyun

summary: your best friend & roommate changkyun just wanted to help get you laid. instead you found solace in a pink haired man named kihyun who had a smart mouth with sharp words you weren’t afraid to let cut you, as long as he didn’t mind you hurting him a little too.

dedicated to: @honeyheonie, @lostinmonstax & @jooheonster, who legit were some of my biggest backbones to keep me going (cough & for @tomatoholmes bc she stans ki cough)

a/n: i’m v sorry this took so long, i didn’t even realize it had been nearly two months since ss 5! time is going by too quickly, but i think i’ve truly found a solidified plot line to the point where i think i’ve speculated where everything will go and therefore than means more concrete chapters, sooner updates and a finalized chapter count! i cut this chapter off a little early bc i didn’t want to head into the next part just yet, but stay tuned for Jin’s party kiddos :) much love to all those patient guppies who stayed by my side and encouraged me to continue despite the many setbacks i felt.

music: suffer - charlie puth

masterlist

In case you missed it: this happened right before

“So, what’s this about a party tonight?” You innocently asked, curiosity peaked once you finally settled after your little encounter.

Kihyun looked up from the worn down Tupperware he was eating from, Kung Pao chicken long forgotten. His words came out muffled, smothered in rice and noodles as a few stray pieces of chicken slipped out. His cheeks were puffed out, the hamster themed nickname still coming to mind as you watched him try to swallow his mouthful before attempting to talk again.

“Don’t worry about it. Yoongi is just being an asshole, like always.”

Scoffing, you reach forward and let Kihyun feed you a fork-full of his soggy noodles. Chewing thoughtfully before speaking, something that slips Kihyun’s mind far too easily, you deadpan, “That doesn’t answer my question. I wouldn’t mind going, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“That’s not it.”

“Then what? You think Yoongi is gonna make a move on me? Don’t you think you could have a little more faith in me, Kihyun?” You couldn’t help but feel your voice strain at the accusation, as if you couldn’t help yourself much like a hungry dog to a full meal.

“Well let me think, the last time you were at a party, it was when you and I met, and I fucked you brainless that night. Who’s to say it won’t happen again tonight, a rerun episode but with a different character this time.” Kihyun looked at you, almost scornfully. This was a complete 180 from his earlier demeanor, his attitude waning from cocky and smooth to spiteful and stinging. It hurt you more than you wanted to lead on, but you couldn’t help as your volume increased with every syllable you spoke.

“Are you kidding me? I was specifically looking to get laid that night, I wasn’t even seeing anyone! If we can even say that’s what we’re doing. I mean, you’ve fucking taken me on one whole date and fooled around with me a few times every now and then. Forgive me for being ‘that girl’ but what the fuck are we, Yoo Kihyun?!”

He sighed, his soft pink hair draping down in a small curtain over his gleaming skin. You hated how your finger itched to sweep it back and expose the polished marble underneath. “Baby, please,” he whispered, breathless and pleading. His eyes matched the vulnerability his voice exposed, an emotion clearly raw and unused by the peach haired man. “Just… I don’t want to lose you. Yoongi is my friend, yes, but he’s also like me. A lot like me, actually.”

Giving into the temptation, you let your digits carefully drag his hair to neatly land past his forehead, thumb brushing the skin there gently. “You’re afraid of losing me?” Your voice was laced with disbelief, the entire emotional ride from the car earlier and afterwards still not convincing you that Kihyun was completely a changed man.

He could only nod, the motion making his hair come crashing back like waves of salmon cascading on the pearly white sands of his flawless skin.

A whisper, was all you could muster. It was small, meek and easily lost in the white noise of Kihyun’s apartment. But Kihyun’s head perked up at the squeak of it, hearing you in crystal clear definition. His lips toyed with a smile and he stood up from where he sat on his couch (“It’s a loveseat, a couch is so much rattier” Kihyun had said when you commented on his high end furniture earlier.) to press a chaste kiss to your lips, keeping it surprisingly PG, save for the hands that settled low on your hips. You wondered if there were magnets on his hands and your hipbones, with how they always seemed to come together one way or another.

His breath felt like heaven as it intermingled with yours, despite that both of your tongues were heavy with soy sauce.

“Baby?”

Eyes bright, shining and gleaming like the softest pebble in a trickling brook, he took your hand in his and brought it to his lips to mimic the kiss he placed on your lips onto the skin of your hand.

“I’d be honored if you’d be my date to Jin’s party tonight.” His voice was rough, a promise that this was only going to go further as his continued to pepper kisses down to your wrist in succession, awaiting your answer. When you finally exhaled and breathed out a light and airy yes, Kihyun just couldn’t restrain himself any longer.

It went on for what felt like hours but his neat little alarm clock on his bedside table marked as 47 minutes. Every second had your spine tingling, toes curling while your breath forever stayed caught in your throat. You can’t even remember how many times you’d come but when Kihyun finally had, it was glorious, like a victory in itself.

He was high, keening as his moans sounded more like vocal exercises rather than exclamations of passion. Every sweet note strung along like a melody of lusts and, if you dared to say, love. It soothed every aching muscle that screamed for you to come down from whatever position he had you bent into at the time, ease in your bones as he whispered sweet praises against your skin and stamped it with a kiss in order to seal it underneath.

Kihyun continued to kiss your shoulders softly, fingers gracing every inch of your body as he seemed to seep the tension away from your bones. You sighed contentedly as his fingers brushed a particularly sore bruise along the meat of your hips, where Kihyun’s grip never faltered as he dove into you time and time again.

“Are you up for a shower babe? Or should I draw you a nice, warm bath? I have bath salts and stuff,” You looked back to question Kihyun with a glare, lips pursing to stifle a laugh that was threatening to come out. “What? A man can have that stuff, it’s relaxing as fuck. Besides, it helps me have this perfect skin that you love so much.”

“I do not love your skin—“

“Baby girl, you practically worship it. I see where you look, it’s either there, my hair or my dick.”

“I look at you as a person, you asshole. But a bath works, mostly because I don’t trust my legs to work anymore than I trust a lump of jelly to hold me up. And don’t say you can do it because you’re no muscle pig Yoo, you’ll get tired from holding me up eventually.” He shrugged and slipped out from where he was spooning you, leaving you with one last kiss imprinted on your cheek before he left the half-lit room into the direction you knew his bathroom was in.

Laying there in a sated silence, the air was thick from the scent of sex but also from the swelling you felt in your heart. You swore that Kihyun felt the same fullness inside, warm and satisfied like after a huge meal.

It was like a breath of fresh air, clinging to the sacs in your lungs as you finally felt some sort of true satisfaction from the sex, not just the lulling pleasure afterwards from a good lay but instead, the feeling of being safe; comforted by the idea that Kihyun isn’t going to kick you out this time, and there was more to offer than just a hot meal in the morning.

Maybe he’d even give you a key for his apartment.

Shaking your head, you wanted to stop those thoughts from breeding; as hope springs eternal. The last thing you wanted was to have an idea for the future only for things not to work out and have it all ripped away from you right before your eyes. Like a magician’s trick: stealing the cloth from under all the silverware. But you were surely not a magician, and you knew a novice like yourself would tug on a corner of the fabric only to tear everything in shambles, every glass and plate falling over and teetering over the edge to break in a million shards and fragments, impossible to piece together even with the best glue money can buy. You’d only make a mess and it’d be yours to clean up, despite all the cuts and blood you’ll spill in the process.

“Babe? Did you hear me?” Kihyun’s voice traveled from the bathroom, the sound bouncing off the porcelain sink and tiled walls only to reach down the hall just enough for you to hear the barest hint of it. Kihyun’s head followed his voice, poking in the doorway, revealing a mop of semi-wet pink along with a shirtless torso with small droplets of water making their way south with the aid of gravity. “You ready?”

You could only muster a small whine, reaching out your arms and giving him the best grabby hands you could manage. Kihyun laughed, breathless and lovely, as you approached your nude body on the bed, still tangled in his expensive bedsheets. Though no amount of money can make up for the damage you two did to them in the last hour.

It took some maneuvering but Kihyun finally got a decent enough grip that didn’t make you brain yourself on the walls of the hallway, the small trek over to the bathroom feeling much long with how many times Kihyun had to readjust his grip.

(“Kihyun! That’s my ass!” “Oops, sorry my bad.”)

Dipping you in gently, the warm water lapped up your body as Kihyun slowly let your body drift naturally into the large bathtub he had, the bath salts settling around you as you finally seated yourself properly. Kihyun smiled in satisfaction as you felt every tense muscle ease with the hot water and rose bath salts.

Rose seemed fitting, what with Kihyun’s hair and all. You had to keep in a laugh at the thought, not wanting Kihyun to think you were being unappreciative of all he’d sweetly done for you.

He hummed softly as he pattered around the bathroom, completing a few finishing touches by lighting some candles, dumping some more salt in the tub along with scented rose petals. You couldn’t help but smile at his thoughtfulness, feeling the ache melt of your body as the water took a more pinkish hue.

“Hey Ki?” He hummed to acknowledge he was listening, back facing you as he finished with the last candle and flicked off the light switch to reveal the warm orange glow that naturally bred in the tiled room with the help of the dozen or so burning flames. “Can… can you put some music on? It doesn’t have to be anything specific,” You chewed on your lip, wondering if you could finish what you wanted to ask since you’d never asked this of him before. “And maybe you could… sing? You don’t have to if you don’t want.” You hurriedly added the remainder of your sentence, not wanting him to feel forced to reveal this part of his life.

He laughed once more, it was small and light and airy like the cotton candy you thought his hair resembled.

“Sure baby girl, whatever you want. I’m gonna turn on the stereo in the living room,” He has a stereo in his living room? Granted you hadn’t really noticed since every time you’ve been here there had been more… pressing matters.

He stepped out of the room and left you alone once more, though now you could clearly hear him shuffling to and fro in the living room just down the hall. You ventured to sneak a peek, craning your neck and jostling the waters around you. You caught sight of Kihyun’s skin passing by a few seconds at a time, his pink hair flopping with him. It was cute, like a lost puppy.

Soon a low, reverberating bass hummed through the floors all the way to the tub, making the water ripple from the sound. It wasn’t loud enough to disturb the neighbors but it at least gave the atmosphere what it was missing, white noise to distract from the drippy faucet and the flickering candles. Settling back into the tub, you patiently waited for Kihyun to return to join you.

Except he never came.

“Ki? Baby?” You spoke into the darkness that enveloped the living room now, apparent that the lights had been turned off. He shouted a small coming! that made you smile, his voice sounding further than normal, meaning he’d probably stopped by the kitchen.

He returned with a bottle of blood red wine, two glasses in tow. He smiled his all too perfect smile and you couldn’t help but return it, the heat radiating from you in waves so strongly that you’re sure it fueled the flames around you to glow a tad bit brighter, if that were even possible.

Setting the items down by the tub, Kihyun motioned for you to sit straight and he stepped into the tub behind you, settling his back against the edge of it. Once he spread his legs and had them on either side of you, he pulled you back into his embrace, your wet back meeting his warm and surprisingly more broad than you remembered chest.

He sighed, deep in his throat and it made his chest vibrate with the sound. It lulled you to lean your head back on his shoulder, eyes lazily meeting his own half lidded ones.

Without warning, Kihyun began to sing, in the octaves of dripping gold and honey. The song was already partway through but it didn’t stop Kihyun from harmonizing from what felt like the heavens above. You swore the sound alone cradled your lungs and kept the air from filling them up.

“So here we go, go again,” His hands stroked along your sides, soft and trembling along the smooth skin there.

“It’s like I’m caught under your spell,” Kihyun reached past the cusp of the tub, pulling back with a glass of wine for yourself, his own cradled under the lazy grip on the hand he had braced on the side closest to the wall. You couldn’t help but take a slow pull of the bloody liquid, the slow and slightly room temperature drink making its way down your throat like molasses, like it had all day to reach the pit of your stomach and warm you to a decent buzz. The flavor that followed was tart, sans any bitterness as it tasted as sugar sweet as everything else that came with knowing Kihyun.

“You’re wearing black, black magic,” His hand pulls back a few strands of your hair from your face, the water clinging to the hair and making it stick to your scalp. Some of the drops cascaded down your face, your eyes naturally coming to close at the sensation.

An idea burned in Kihyun’s mind, his cock twitching at the filthy thought. Letting his hand rest at your clavicles, he brings his own wine glass to his lips, the deep and rich red contrasting with the lilac pink that dusted his lips. As he sipped hungrily on the drink, your eyes slowly opened to the sight of a singular drop of red slipping past the seam of his lips, trailing down the column of his perfect throat, where a prominent vein lay. Before it could drag any lower, you latched your mouth there was best you could without twisting your body into that resembling a question mark. Sucking lightly, you make sure to pass your tongue and capture all of the fruity taste that the wine left sticky on his skin.

He groaned, the noise matching a vibration that hummed with your lips where they were attached. Pulling his glass away, he smacks his lips and chases the taste from his lips with a pass or two of his own tongue, mimicking how you lapped at his neck. You returned to your earlier position, head resting on Kihyun’s shoulder once more as he continued to sing, his voice slightly more raspy with something akin to want; like fire licked at his throat and vocal chords instead of yourself.

“Well, baby don’t wear nothing else,” His touch scorched now—burning a trail of need in the wake where your veins lay. No longer were his digits innocently skimming your sides, they gripped and tugged with intent, malicious indeed. He reached forward to cup your left breast with his only free hand, toying with your nipple and making you whimper as shocks made their way past your ribcage and down into the water, where your core was twitching.

“Well, open up this door,” Kihyun punctuated his igniting words as his hand dipped down under the water, gently skimming where you burned the hottest. You jolted at the phantom touch, ripples in the water and some sloshing over the edge in reaction to your sudden movement. Some of Kihyun’s wine crashed against the edge of the glass, a few stray droplets coming down in rich rivulets, each one larger than the next as they reached their end and dripped off the clear glass.

When they landed in the water, they tinged the area for just a mere moment, before the amount of water diluted to color and took the opaque red away and replaced it with the peach of the bath salts. You felt several grains swirl around you while you kicked around, trying to fight the extreme sensations Kihyun was bringing to you without even as much as touching you properly.

“Don’t you play,” He chuckled into your ear, his breath hot and heavy against the shell of it as his tongue came to follow. The burst and blooming of pleasure that came to fruition made you whine, keening in hopes that Kihyun would show mercy to his bathing lover. He suckled along your neck, bringing the glass of wine in his hand to your neck and tipping it over purposely, the cool liquid splashing audibly on your shoulder.

He watched with a burning fever as the wine stained your skin, leaving sticky sweet trails of color until it either ran off the sides into the milky bath water or collected in the space between your bones, in pools of inky red in your clavicles.

Unable to resist any longer, he sucked and lapped at the gaps where the liquid stayed static. You gasped at his hot mouth latched on your body, tasting every drop of wine along with the salty tang of your own skin, intermingling with the bitter rose water that still dotted your skin in pin pricks. Once he deemed you clean of the wine, he whispered your name, breathless, in your ear. You shivered at the sound, realizing he was just as wrecked as you were. His cock was solid behind you, full after all the teasing he’d succumbed you to.

“Ain’t no other man, gon’ make you feel the same,” He half whispered-half sang against your neck, his breath coming short and desperate. The water swished and sloshed around the tub, the motion between the two of you causing it to erupt in waves to the point of cascading over the side and splashing down on the tile and soaking the maroon bath mat that lay on the other side.

Kihyun took the time to extract your wine glass from your trembling fingers, no fight in you as you relinquished the glass with minimal effort. He placed his and your own where he had originally put them, next to the half-full bottle that still stood there untouched.

“Wanna make, wanna make love,” He whimpered as you grinded back against him, causing his head to brush up against you over and over again. Had he not been submerged in that moment, you were sure he’d be drooling pre-come all over your ass, no doubt making a mess like always.

He gripped your hips, that pesky magnet coming back into play, as he rocked against your backside. The water was relentless, constantly splashing and almost completely covering the sound of the music in the background.

“Girl, I can’t lie,” Kihyun was practically begging now, his singing barely above a whisper as he tried to put his focus in working his hips along you. All you could rely on for satisfaction was the ghosting fingertips of Kihyun’s hand dipping down to tease along your thighs, and the constant slap of the splashing water against your hot core. It was a siren’s call, begging you to succumb to the utmost pleasure you needed, to just push Kihyun’s fingers where you needed them most. But unfortunately, nature doesn’t work that way and water does just the opposite effect of what you need in order to proceed as you would normally.

If it was up to you, you’d already be full of Kihyun, bouncing in his lap as you rode him into next week.

“I’m just a sucker,” Kihyun mouthed at your neck again, his voice finding some strength as he fucked against you, the mere pressure and friction driving him mad.

“For a cold-hearted lover,” He whispered something into your ear after that particular lyric, something akin and along the lines of a breathless apology. As if he was sorry for whatever he’d done to you before, for ever making you feel less than the royalty he thought you deserved to be.

“You make me suffer,” Kihyun couldn’t hold back his own whimpers and moans, the thread inside him finally unraveling as he pistoned his hips against you, the smacks of his skin against your audible along with the slaps of waves of water colliding with each other as they traveled in opposite directions. Every forward thrust from Kihyun made you come to meet with an opposing force, another hard wave of water coming in contact with your lower half and making you squirm, only causing more smacks against you in return.

“Don’t keep me waiting,” He finished himself off, one particularly hard grind against you making him erupt in white-hot pleasure, his come going straight into the water. It made the water between you two murkier, and Kihyun made sure to ask that you were on the pill, to ensure you weren’t going to get pregnant from any stray swimmers. Once you nodded vigorously, Kihyun chuckled and finished with a few more thrusts, letting his high ride out its duration before he returned to singing into your ear, both hands coming around to tease at your nipples.

“You should come over,” Kihyun teased, his breath fanning over the side of your face as he ground his now-soft cock into you, in hopes to keep the motion so you’d climax soon. The fingers that pulled and played with your nipples sent shocks of sensations of everywhere, toes curling from the aching pleasure you felt ramping up inside you.

Kihyun chuckled against your skin, the sound bringing you that much closer to the edge. You couldn’t help it as you rose up higher against him, your back sticking to his chest as you head rolled back to crane onto his shoulder, your eyes meeting Kihyun’s own burning dark orbs. You could see the aching satisfaction gleaming back at you, his skin mocking you once more with just how fucking pretty he was. You always seemed to notice this at this point, before or after you get to come. It’s a sex revelation, you come to realize.

“You should come, you should come baby,” Kihyun pointed the lyrics to you, fingers grazing the inside of your thighs and the mixture of his sickeningly sweet voice made you topple over the edge, your fingers gripping the edges of the tub until white bled into your skin as you came harder than you’re sure you’ve ever had—completely untouched.

At least, untouched in the proper sense.

Kihyun whispered praises in your ear, still rocking you gently to ride out your own orgasm along with the soft waves the curled in the water. Your eyes were closed, the pleasure too intense to handle with them open. You felt like you were at the beach, lost at sea; floating and buoyant in the open waters. The only thing that kept you anchored, tethered to reality, was Kihyun’s lilting voice telling you how good you are, how well you did, how proud he was of you. You could feel the bubbles forming in your stomach, erupting into small brush fires that stoked something even hotter inside you, something burning and cooking you from the inside out. It was like sticking fruit on a grill, locking in the sweetness inside you with the heat alone. The heat from Kihyun and what he did to you.

As you tried to come back from your high, you registered Kihyun still softly speaking into your ear, though his speaking was gentler now, if even that was possible. It was curling around you like smoke off a cigar, enticing you to fall even deep for him.

“Don’t make me suffer, don’t make me suffer,” He reached every octave, with ease in a way that made your stomach lurch to hear him sing more, to hear him in a opera hall; unadulterated and raw, the way he made you feel.

“I won’t, I promise,” You whispered back, hoarsely but still audible. You knew you were answering something that wasn’t intended to be, but you couldn’t help yourself. You had to say something, the words were stoking something fierce inside you to the point that you felt like if you never opened your mouth, you’d never survive the night. Kihyun coaxed these words and feelings out of you like it was nothing.

You certainly weren’t a magician, incapable of hiding your true intentions and able to keep the veil of illusion up while simultaneously aweing the audience and keeping their attention enraptured—but Kihyun was. He was the best among them all, able to breathe fire into your lungs and make you bend every which way to his will, to his word. All while looking like an angel himself.

But the angel may just turn out to be the devil, dressed in pretty lace and pastels.

The song Kihyun sang said that you were the reason for his suffering, but it might just be the other way around. He might be the actual, literal death of you. And that… that might just be okay.

What a way to go.

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