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orchidyoonkook · 6 months

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The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG

Title: The Devil Wears Valentino

Pairing: Devil!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Not Quite Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Technically Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Fluff

Summary: Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty.

Warnings: language, violence, tae is a menance, drinking and alcohol, Min Yoongi as the Devil -> Lucifer Morningstar? we dont know him, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of rape -> Sal's an ass and he deserved what he got, somewhat graphic gore/horror (yoon tries her best but she's not very good at spooky), slight POV switches, one (1) mention of reader having hair, fluffy in parts,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 10,488

Release Date: October 31, 2023, 12:00PM

A/N 1: Ahhhh! Welcome to my very first halloween special!!! I wanted to do something for my favourite holiday this year, and I've had this title written down without a plot for maybe just over a year? So I'm really excited to finally use it!!

A/N 1.5: Thank you to my absolute darling @katykatmeow for beta'ing this for me so late in the night. I adore you so much

A/N 2: The whiskey glass and whiskey are hand drawn vectors because I'm a glutton for punishment. Why do I keep doing this to myself.

Explicit Warnings: ahaha uhhh, unprotected sex (dont be stupid) kissing, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), groping, pet names (sickening amount), dirty talk, praise, slight degredation, hair pulling (m rec), spitting, handjob, body worship, cowgirl, from the back, missionary, a lil bit of crying, spanking, size kink, voice kink, hand kink (look, he's a lot okay, don't blame reader), sl*t/wh*re mentions, multiple orgasms, creampie, I think thats it? Yoon went a little bananas with this one.....

Slow jazz floats through the air of the club, wading around the modestly-sized venue. You’d say it was almost cozy, but with the expensive feel of the place, cozy just didn’t seem like the right word.

Intimate. That would be a better choice.

From behind the bar where you stand, to the velvet couches in the back covered by decently dressed lesser demons, piano plays alongside gentle drums. Dark navy cushions soak in their conversation of effective torture methods, discussed like stock market trends, they dissect the best way to decapitate someone so you can instill the most pain and suffering.

The answer is always with a dull knife and from the back, blindly. Never knowing when the next cut will be is half the agony.

You try not to pay attention to that though, because the only thing you need to know is that they drink Vodka Tonics and lesser demon number four’s glass is looking to be on the emptier side.

He’ll be back for another soon.

While you wait for his arrival, the rhythmic notes continue on, gliding along shiny, black floor tiles. They pass the burgundy leather booths that face the stage, full of vampires trying to relive long lost youth in the old melodies played. They turn to stone just a little bit more with every passing minute they’re forced to live, keeping no company besides the pleasant burn down their throats and ever present melancholy.

Banshees listen in from the mezzanine, only ever soft spoken when they’re here. Covered by velvet draped ceilings that dampen sounds to the outside world, the women of three distinct ages sit at tall tables. The young in heels and short dresses, proudly showing off their youth, while the elders choose more elegant wares, content as they can be in their skin, considering their blood soaked pasts.

Banshees tend to discuss privately amongst themselves, ordering walk up service so as to never mingle with the men on the floor. You can’t blame them, especially knowing how they all got here in the first place, but they’re polite when they enter, greeting you kindly despite what you are to them. The trays you bring up for them never waver from their drink of choice, The Irish Sour.

And then there are the Djinn, who come in mostly just to pass the time. Sitting by themselves at the bar, or in no more than groups of two at a far table, they never interact with anyone other than the bartender or themselves. Djinn are increasingly solitary creatures of the night, with the fear of their kind lessening in mortals, you’re starting to see less and less of them as the days pass, and you’re almost sad to see them go.

Djinn are your favourites. They come in, order, keep to themselves, and then leave. It’s a nice change from the usual light conversation you’re forced to keep with patrons. Plus their orders are always easiest, as they only drink virgin. It’s a bit of a blow to the bar aspect of the establishment, but they come for the atmosphere, grateful to have a place they can exist with like minded folk—even if they don’t interact. There’s a comfort in familiarity, you guess.

Occasionally some other creatures of the night mix into the masses; fae, chimera, leprechauns, goblins, et cetera. All dressed in their nicest clothes to accommodate your work's dress code, all here for peace from their day jobs, to drown their sorrows, or somewhere in between.

Some come for an hour, others come for the night, but it’s mostly just your regulars who tend to remain, as do their drink orders. It’s a relatively easy job, and you don’t mind the company.

Most of the time.

You’ve just finished serving the lesser demon from earlier when your coworker bugs you for the hundredth time tonight.

“I don’t get why you're so hellbent on this, Y/N. If you’re closing, he’s coming. Because he always comes when you're closing. It’s simple math.”

“No he doesn't,” you dismiss Taehyung, a cocky but rather beautiful incubi, annoyedly. Taehyung is the type that knows he’s pretty and uses it to his every advantage, including being able to say whatever he wants and get away with it. And it would piss you off except it works on you too.

Fucking incubi demons…

You were one of only two mortal bartenders, the other being Lia, a cute blond who only works here for the tips. The boss likes to keep a couple humans on staff in case any wanderers stupid enough to come inside a den of nocturnal, evil creatures didn’t catch the vibe and immediately fuck off.

You’d be surprised at how shitty some people's self preservation instincts are.

You asked your boss once—a very large, very well built, very well connected vampire—why he bothered having a layer of protection for them. His only response was: “Business is business.”

Plus he knows he can’t have a trail of bodies that lead directly to his club's front steps, so he keeps a couple of mortals around just in case. This way, with you two here, there was always someone who knew all the drinks the humans could have, and someone to keep all the greedy eyes around the venue in check, as you have banning and kicking out privileges.

Because where you saw Kin, your regulars saw food, a hunt, or a job. They saw something to be taken advantage of or killed. They saw poor, weak, pathetic little mortals that should’ve been eradicated centuries ago had their ancestors been smarter.

They are the superior beings in their eyes, your race is just a bug to be squashed under their proverbial boot.

It makes you worry what they think of you. Is the only thing that stops them from devouring you whole the fact that you make their drinks just the way they like it, that you have a use in serving them? Or do they respect you enough now that you understand how to act around them and know what they’re like? What they are.

You worry, but you’ll never know the truth because you aren’t stupid enough to ask and show weakness. They can smell that shit from a mile away, and all it does is paint a 30 foot wide target on your back.

“Yes he does. I bet you tonight's tips he’ll be here in the next two hours,” Taehyung presses.

And ooohh, a night’s worth of tips, bragging rights, and winning a bet against Tae all sound way too good damn to pass up.

“You’re delusional,” you say, holding out a hand. Tae grabs and shakes, as you agree to his terms. “And you’re on, don’t come crying when you lose.”

There’s no way he’ll show up. It’s Friday night, the night of sin, he’s going to be up to his eyeballs with work…stuff.

“Easiest money I’ve ever made,” Taehyung grins, and with the confidence in which he does, you begin to second guess your own.

It’s not that you did or didn’t want him to show up, it’s just that your relationship with him is…complicated at best. You never really knew how to navigate a conversation with him outside of surface level banter and jokes, but it’s always been like that with you two.

Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm.

Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.

And obnoxiously flirty.

But you could never. Not with who and what you are, and who and what he is.

Regardless of how you fight the heat down in your cheeks every time you see him, and how your heart flutters against your will in multiple places in your body at even the thought of being near him.

Regardless of the fact that you shut him down every time he suggests anything more than an over the bar conversation, and the way your panties seem to always dampen in his presenc–fuck.

It’s happening again. Stop thinking about it, stop, stop st–wait. You turn, seeing the violet ichor in Tae’s eyes and you know the bitch is using his power on you. You flip the asshole off and he chuckles.

He’s been trying to get you to change your mind ever since the first time he saw you deny yourself.

“You know I can tell when you’re hot and bothered right? Incubus, remember? It’s literally part of who I am.”

To which you think again, fucking incubi…

Your most infamous regular is, to quote your favourite tv show, ‘the bane of your existence and the object of all your desires,’ and you will never, ever entertain his annoying, disgustingly hot ass more than you already do. Not after everything you went through the first—and last—time with a creature of the night.

You learned your lesson.

So instead, you try to think of him more like an old friend. The kind that’s actually really old already, but looks amazing for his age. The kind that makes shivers run up your spine when he talks to you in the deepest, most gravel turning voice you’ve ever heard, that you also ignore out of pure self preservation. He’s the kind that you shove out of your thoughts at night when your alone and in desperate need of relie—Fucking Taehyung!

You whip your head around to search for the violet eyed incubus, only to see him across the bar helping some stocky vampire. And you’re about a hair's breadth away from ripping him a new one in front of said vampire when the idle hum of chatter in the bar ceases and the band’s calming music falters into missed notes and a cymbal crash that's too hard; awkward, painful silence remaining.

From behind you, you can hear the front door close, followed by light footsteps that grow louder and louder. Only once the seat directly behind you creaks with the sound of being occupied, does the chatter and music resume.

Which can only mean one fucking thing.

You just lost all your tips for the night.

Tae’s shit eating grin as he looks over your shoulder confirms it.

Fuck.

“Excuse me,” the bottom of the ocean floor speaks and you make a conscious effort not to react.

“Ardbeg Single Malt, neat?” You throw over your shoulder, not bothering to look just yet.

You know precisely where he sits. And he knows you know.

“Sounds perfect,” he responds, and you focus on ‘looking for the bottle.’

You know exactly where it is.

No one else will touch it.

Taehyung busies himself with bringing an order of Bloody Mary’s down to a booth on the floor, knowing he’ll be burned alive if he so much as looks at a whiskey glass.

No one serves him but you.

But more importantly, nobody disrespects you in front of him. A lesson your ex–see: dead–coworker, Sal, learned the hard way. His burn mark is still seared onto the floor behind you.

You’d almost felt bad that day, but he was a lust demon who touched you without your permission, hit on you every five minutes, and when you said no, treated you like shit.

You’d been close to dousing him with vodka and lighting him up yourself, but the man tapping his fingers on the bar behind you beat you to it 15 seconds after sitting down one night last year.

After shoving Sal off you for the fourth time that night, he was pissed. Whispering obscenities to himself loud enough so you would hear,

“Fucking stupid mortal bitch, maybe next time I’ll just drag you into an alley do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody here’s going to stop me. And maybe then you’ll learn to shut up with this dick in your cunt and my fingers down your throat, huh? Leave you to rot with the garbage where you belong after you’re all used up.”

He didn’t take another breath.

A single burst of blistering flame had Sal reduced to ashes in seconds. You’d felt the heat from it, but your skin remained burn free, safe from its dangerous blaze. The lust demon from then on only existed as a smudge on the ground to be walked over.

“Thanks,” You’d said.

“It’s where he belongs,” he responded.

Grateful for his kindness, you entertained him more than usual that night. Engaged in an actual conversation, about your birthday of all things. You had no idea why he wanted to know, but you considered the information his reward for helping you, and he seemed pleased with it.

But he was more than pleased.

After years, you’d revealed something to him. Something personal.

He took it as a sign that he might be able to get you to change your mind one day, if he did everything just right. Having played the long game before, this was no different. The only thing different this time, was you.

Maybe it was the way you walked with such confidence, or the way you never cowered in fear around him. Not the day you met nor any day after. Or maybe you were sent by his father just to mess with his head. He didn’t care. All he knew was what he wanted, and that he was more than willing to wait as long as was needed to get it.

A nursery rhyme from your childhood plays in your head every time you see him. It never wavers, just like the eyes you can feel on the back of your neck, watching your experienced hands make his drink.

Quietly, you recite it to yourself while you grab the bottle;

‘One for sorrow,

Two for joy,

Three for a girl,

Four for a boy,

Five for silver,

Six for gold,

Seven for a secret never to be told.’

You pour, steady hand making it last as long as you possibly can to gain a few more seconds to compose yourself.

‘Eight for a wish,

Nine for a kiss,

Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,

Eleven for health,

Twelve for wealth,’

You put the bottle down and cork it before returning it to its place on the shelf. Taking a deep breath, you turn to finally face him, and change the wording of the last line to fit your situation better.

“One Ardbeg Single Malt neat, for the Devil himself.”

He snickers, “I always liked that nursery rhyme. It’s cute. Like you, Angel.”

You roll your eyes. To anyone else that would sound like a compliment. But coming from the Devil it’s more of an insult. One you know is meant in a playful way after all these years, crass in his humour, just like you. And you know he can take a little heat back.

“Wow, that’s a classic,” you grab a glass to polish, keeping your hands busy so they don’t do something stupid while you’re distracted. “Got one of those for you too, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’”

He chokes on a laugh before straightening on the barstool and putting on a face. “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.”

“Oh come on Yoongi, you come at me with ‘It’s cute, like you, Angel’ and I can’t poke back?” You ask, knowing full well his uncomfortable look is all an act. “I thought you didn’t have any feelings besides rage, lust and currently; insufferable flirting.”

You know the entire club listens in to your conversation.

No one calls the Devil by his first name.

Nobody speaks to the Devil unless spoken to.

And no one makes jokes at the Devil’s expense and lives.

No one except you.

What a funny little exception you are.

Yoongi drops the act, a sly smirk that sends bubbles to your brain, replacing it. “So you admit my flirting isn’t always bad. Must be doing something right then.”

You force yourself not to slam a palm into your forehead. Of course that’s what he got out of your sentence.

You aren’t going to make his ego any bigger than it already is.

“It isn’t working,”—fuck, yes it is—“if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t say I’m surprised though, I hear you’ve been out of the game for a couple millenia,” he quirks a brow at that.

Ooo, that means you’re nearing thin ice, haven't been there in a while…Let’s see if you can slide around a bit more without falling in.

“I mean, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. If you stay consistent at your current rate of progress you could hit me up in,” you suck air in through your teeth and look at the ceiling, before checking a watch you don’t wear, pretending to think, “a thousand years?” You tease, a lilt in your tone. Because if Yoongi was going to make your shift this fucking difficult just by breathing near you, then you sure as Hell can do the same for his night.

He chuckles like the coals of a fire and you cross your legs behind the bar. Motherfucker…

“Someones got a mouth on them tonight,” he says, looking directly into your eyes as he takes his first sip, savouring the taste before swallowing. His tongue dips to his bottom lip for any remnants and you gulp, vision dropping for a millisecond—oh for the love of—and you finally notice what he’s wearing.

Much to your dismay and dwindling willpower, he looks fucking good. With only a white scarf to accent, the all black Valentino suit fits in perfectly with the bar’s dress code, as well as the long slicked back hair he’s only recently started to grow out. Just seeing it like this makes you want to run your hands through and mess it up.

You’ve always had a thing for men with long hair, ever since you were young.

Jack Sparrow, Madmartigan, even The Winter Soldier. And come to think of it, none of them were exactly the good guys in their respective universes either…

Nope! No. You can’t. You can’t.

You can’t for so many reasons, so many good and bad and everything in between reasons. You’re nothing more than a flimsy human while he’s the Great Immortal Evil. The person people whisper the name of for fear of incurring his wrath.

The King of Hell.

He’s the person that walks into a room and everyone balks under his gaze, terrified of what he may do. He’s killed millions with no mercy. Doesn’t so much as think twice to horrifically burn someone where they stand to ash in hellfire for breathing the wrong way near him. He lavishes in the screams of sinners, punished in their own blood and bones, beaten into a shell of who they were in the nine circles of Hell. Left gaping, broken and sobbing in agony for their suffering to end.

Yoongi is walking nightmares and visceral terror. He is merciless violence and brutality abandon.

Yoongi is living, breathing, unyielding death wrapped up in deceivingly beautiful packaging.

He is the epitome of someone you should not like, should not go near, and definitely should not want in the way the thrumming in your bones is telling you, you want him.

You have to stay away from him.

But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt back a little.

As salaciously as you can muster, you whisper low, “But it’s nothing you can’t handle,” and you swear you see a hint of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes, followed by something so much deeper that you have to look away under the guise of checking for any newcomers.

It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. One you need to move the pieces of very, very carefully.

There’s a handful of people waiting to be served, but none disturb Yoongi’s service. So you’re forced and relieved to cut the interaction short. For both the waiting patrons, and your sanity.

“Enjoy the whiskey, Yoongi.”

Yoongi doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, instead he watches you help the other patrons and make drinks. No one dares sit within three seats of him on either side, so the booths and tables fill more than the bar does, forcing you to do more tray work than you like. And you think you can feel those eyes on the back of your neck travel elsewhere.

Soon after he takes his last sip, Yoongi leaves far too much cash on the table to cover a single drink, and you know Tae won’t include it in tonight's bet. He rather enjoys being alive.

The first time he did this you tried to give it back, insisting it was too much. But one threat to Tae’s life had you accepting the outrageous amount he left you every time. Despite how much he gets on your nerves, you rather enjoy Taehyung's company on your shifts. And you didn’t want to risk having a new coworker like Sal again.

Thank you, Yoongi. You silently think to yourself every time he does. His tips are one of the only reasons you’re able to take care of yourself so well.

You live in an apartment you should not be able to afford on a bartender's wage. Eat well, buy all the brand name products for the skin care routine you could only dream of having as a teenager, and you’re able to get yourself a little treat every once in a while.

All thanks to the one man the world claimed was the purest entity of evil there was.

And maybe he is.

But not to you.

The rest of your night, and closing go smoothly. The journey home passes by in a flash and soon you’re flopping into your bed, asleep before you hit the pillow.

You dream of Yoongi and Hellfire and things only your subconscious will let you. The thoughts that you force away every time you see him.

The burn of his hands on your skin and his lips on your neck. The warmth that spreads over your entire body at the mere mention of your name from his lips. His tongue in places you wouldn’t dare allow him to even think about in the waking world.

And you wake from an orgasm he wasn't in the waking world to give you.

It’s the last Saturday in October, which means it’s also your birthday.

You found it rather funny that the one person the Devil could stand to conversate with was born on his night. Maybe that’s coincidence or maybe that’s fate, either way you didn’t care, because you had it booked off work and you were going to a bar and dancing with your friends, dressed up in the sluttiest costumes you could find.

Your recent visit with your birthday's namesake inspired your costume this year. Wearing the shortest, blood red leather dress you could find, the slits up the sides ran almost to your hips, and a corseted waist that made you feel sexy and fierce. You’d paired it with some velvet horns, a tail, pitchfork, crimson lace stockings and your most recent edition; red bottomed strappy stilettos.

They’d been your birthday present to yourself, courtesy of Yoongi’s most recent tip. And needless to say, you felt hot as shit. No one could tear you down tonight.

All your friends met at your house before ridesharing down to a club. It’s loud, hazy, and filled with other Devil’s Night party goers as you arrive, smoke lingering in the air and you can feel the wave of dancing coming from further inside.

Someone buys you your first round within a minute of being let in, lemon drop filling your taste buds as you knock back the shot. Another is ordered immediately after the first, it runs smoother and tastes like chocolate as you make your way to the dance floor.

Aside from you, your friends are dressed up as a wild mix of characters. Rey is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, Yaejin is Nezuko from Demon Slayer, Bryce is a gender bent Legolas from Lord of the Rings, Declan is Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, Cam is a ghost, and Trin is a character from a book you’ve never read. Something about dragons and magic and vermin—or was it venin? Whatever. But they were in all black and had used silver hair spray on the tips of their hair.

You let the alcohol make its way through your veins as you dance, loosening up. The DJ mixes songs together in a way that never has the crowd thinning out and you laugh as you move with your friends, swaying and rocking and grinding.

You needed this.

A night out just to let go, have fun, forget everything and hopefully get lucky by the end of it. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone to bed, and birthday sex sounds amazing the more the lemon drop, and what you finally learned was a tootsie roll shot, settle into your system.

You aren’t drunk by any means, but you are buzzed and having a blast. An orgasm sounds like the only thing that could possibly make this night any better. So you make your way around the dance floor, keeping one eye open for any potentials, but mostly just dancing with Rey and Cam. The others either grabbing another drink back at the bar or resting their legs in a booth.

“Babe,” Rey says, hands around your neck with Cam behind you, hands on your hips. You all sway to the beat of the admittedly sensual song playing.

“Yeah?” You ask, opening your eyes to meet hers and she leans in closer.

You can hear the smile on her lips, “Major tall, dark and handsome at 9 o'clock has been eyeing you for at least a half hour. I say you ditch me and Cam and go enthrall the man with your company for a little while. We’ll be fine on our own.”

Heating at her words you’re excited to see who’s gone and done half your job for you tonight when your eyes stop dead on target.

In a private booth in the VIP section, blending in far too well with the mortals around him, he wears a button down black satin top and dress pants. Thick silver links adorn his neck, complimenting the hoops in his lobes as well as the mouth watering rings on his fingers and you’re quite sure the bottoms of his black leather shoes match the red of your own.

Yoongi.

God he looks good. Unfairly so. And he carries that knowledge with him in his movement. His confidence never wavering like a mortal’s would.

Aside from two twisting black horns you’ve never seen before protruding from his deliciously tousled hair—hair you still want to pull on until he’s making sounds no ones ever heard come out of his mouth before, now moreso than ever—Yoongi is a darker version of yourself.

Except for him, it isn’t a costume, it’s real, real, real.

And he looks like sin incarnate.

Fitting.

Fuck, you’re so screwed. What were all those reasons it could never work again? The ones that explain why you shouldn’t take the Devil home and let him fuck you into next Sunday?

Suddenly, you can’t remember any of them. Not when Yoongi’s eyes never leave your red-clad form as he sips on what you know to be subpar whiskey. Your core melts into lava at the way he looks up and down, taking all of you in like you’re the one thing on this planet he needs to survive, and he’ll stop at nothing and spare absolutely no one until he gets you.

Rey gives Cam a look and their hands drop, allowing you to almost float over to where Yoongi lounges, maneuvering between bodies undulating to music that’s being deafened by the heartbeat in your ears.

When you reach him, you leave a somewhat respectable distance between you two, a step down from the dias the booth sits on.

Seeing him so much clearer now, you almost whine. How does he look even better up close? You want to sit on his lap, his face, have him bend you over the table then flip you over and feast like a man starved.

Fuck! No, you can’t. And you also can’t blame Tae for those thoughts either, he isn’t here.

They were all you.

Maybe his plan was working after all…

“What are you doing here?” You manage, grateful that you hadn’t had more to drink, but even more grateful for the ones you did. You needed a little liquid courage right now, even if it turned your thoughts into gutter sewage.

What he doesn’t know can’t hurt you…right? You just have to keep a lid on it. The one that’s loosening the more you look at him.

“It’s your birthday,” he says, producing a small black box wrapped with a bow. “I have a gift.”

He…he got you a present? He’s never done that before. But then again, before last year, he never knew when it was.

“You remem—I—you didn’t have to get me anything,” you stutter ungracefully, mouth trying to keep up with your racing thoughts. “I already got these shoes with the tip you left me last time,” you say, extending your leg to show off your newest purchase. The action reveals more leg than you meant it too and he catches the garter you have pulled around your thigh.

A fire ignites in his eyes at the sight, and you can feel their sparks everywhere he looks. Starting at your toes and moving all the way up back to your pretty irises.

“I’m flattered by the way,” he says. “In your costume choice.”

Huh? You look down and heat rises to your cheeks in a way it never has before. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

Here you stand, before the actual Devil—horns out in all their glory—dressed as him on his namesake night.

Of course this would happen to you, of course it would. This is what you get for fucking around. You found out. And you don’t know whether to be mortified, beg for forgiveness, or laugh yourself hoarse.

Going with none of the above, you choose to play it off instead, the way you always do when he manages to fluster you. “Consider me inspired by how recently I last saw you,” you say, taking the single step up the dias and twirling for him.

You show every angle of your costume you can, letting the booze in your system do its job of making you more confident than you currently are.

“What do you think?”

Yoongi stands, taking the two strides needed to be face to face with you, his voice is quiet and even, so only you can hear.

“May I touch?”

You don’t hesitate.

“Yes.”

Yoongi reaches behind you and pulls the fake tail from the back of your dress, then the pitchfork from your grasp and throws them into the booth, not caring where they land.

“Mmm,” he hums, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you once more. Lightning strikes every single nerve ending where his fingertips meet your body.

This time when he speaks, his voice is touched with the bit of demon that’s inside of him, dragging its claws along the floor of the 9th circle of Hell as he growls, “You’re perfect.”

Your heart does backflips and cartwheels and nose dives all at once. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and if your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely are now.

Tugging gently, he guides you to the booth, sitting first before dragging you over his lap, knees meeting his hips. One of his hands rests on your thigh while the other reaches for something you can’t be bothered to figure out because oh my god, oh my god, you’re straddling him. Your straddling the Devil, dressed as the devil and probably already looking semi-fucked out while you do. This is probably a bad idea—no. This is definitely a bad idea. But you also have absolutely zero plans to stop literally anything that’s happening.

The gift box makes a reappearance, and he hands it over to you.

“Thank you,” you say automatically, trying and failing to ignore the fact that both of his hands now rest on your thighs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…..

Undoing the little black bow, you open it, revealing a delicately simple necklace. Its light weight chain holding a small pink stone pendant.

Beautiful.

“Pink Tourmaline,” Yoongi says.

“My birthstone,” you reply.

“Your birthstone.”

You stare at the little crystal, cut and polished to perfection. Not a single flaw.

“Yoongi I—I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible…Thank you,” you take it out of the box, profoundly grateful you decided not to wear a necklace tonight. “Could you help me put it on?”

“Of course, Angel,” he agrees. But this time when he says your nickname, it’s different. Like an unholy vow made only to you.

Makes you wonder what he promised.

Regretfully removing yourself from his lap, you turn around, only to be dragged back down by strong fingers.

Your ass is now flush against his dick, and it’s taking everything in you not to tease. Whether you’d be teasing him or yourself, you don't know, nor do you care. All you know is that friction can be a good thing if you want it to be. And you're starting to want it to be.

Lifting your hair for him, Yoongi fastens the necklace around your column, and to your complete and utter doom, places a gentle kiss at your nape. The simple contact makes you quietly moan, and you feel a twitch under you.

Ohhh, this is bad, this is so bad. But you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Not when his hands roam up and down your back, your sides, your hips. Exploring, feeling, learning. You dissolve into the touch, welcoming every whisper of pleasure they bring.

What is he doing to you?

“Angel,” Yoongi purrs in your ear.

“Mmm?”

“Would you like to dance?”

Fuck would you ever, but wait—

“Are you asking me if I’d like to Dance with the Devil?” you muse.

Yoongi chuckles lowly, understanding the meaning behind your ask.

“Is that something you’d be interested in?”

“Yes.”

You feel more than hear the dark rumble coming from his chest before he gently taps on your thigh. And you get up quickly.

“That’s a good girl,” he says, and fuck could you ever get used to him saying that to you.

Fingers laced in his, he lets you guide him to the dance floor.

Both of you ignore what the DJ plays, instead moving to the rhythm you feel like. Slow, sensual, a hand on his neck while you grind into him. Fast and heated, bodies touching any and every place you can get contact. You’re putting on quite the show for anyone brave enough to watch. And you know at least a handful of the eyes you feel on you are your friends’.

They don’t know about Yoongi.

They don’t know about the nature of the clientele at your job either, like every other human. They don’t know you're dancing with the most dangerous and volatile man in the room. And it’s better that way, because if they did, your ass would’ve been hauled out of the club and in a rideshare the second anyone saw him.

You’ve never been more thankful for the figurative wall between worlds. And the fact that you stand on both sides.

You brush up against his hardening dick and fuck, that’s it.

You’ve decided.

To hell with your reasons. To hell with the constant flirting and overuse of will power.

To hell with letting your anxieties and your moral compass and your conscience get in the way of the one thing you’ve been denying yourself for years.

You spin in Yoongi’s hold, looking straight into the darkened eyes of the most forbidden man you could ever want for yourself, only to see pure desire staring right back. It’s all you need before you’re crashing your lips to his, taking anything and everything you can get before one of you comes to your senses and pulls back.

But his grip on you tightens like a vice, pulling you closer, bodies flush amidst the dancing crowd. He’s magnetic in his want, lifting a hand to the back of your neck and tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.

You let him in without hesitation and he nearly swallows you whole with how he invades your mouth, claiming it for himself. It makes you moan and he lets up, if only to let you breathe for a moment, and you take this reprieve to whisper in his ear, finally giving in to what you crave more than anything.

“Let’s go to yours.”

“We should go to yours, Angel, mine’s a bit harder to get to.”

Because his is on another plane of existence. Not exactly a taxi ride away. At least not one you can get at the curb of the club.

“Riiight.” A small dose of water washes over the fire in your core, and it’s like he can sense it because immediately, he’s pulling you back in. Nothing but teeth and lips and tongue, animalistic in the passion you’re displaying for everyone to see, the flames increasing tenfold.

Fuck, you don’t want to wait.

And apparently neither does Yoongi.

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

“Yes, but what does tha–”

“Close your eyes for me, Love.”

Any and all arguments fade on your tongue at the new pet name. So much warmer than Angel, so much more affectionate.

So you close your eyes for him, no questions asked. Because you trust him. You trust the Devil.

You trust Yoongi.

“That's a good girl.”

One hand goes to the back of your neck, the other your lower back as he kisses you gently. So gently you think it means something more, but the sounds of the club are fading away, and he’s leaning you down like he’s going to dip you before your back meets something soft.

Are you closer to a booth than you thought? Is he really going to take you here in front of all those people?

But when you open your eyes and your bedroom at your apartment fills your vision, you stiffen immediately.

What?

“I—but we were just—and now we’re he—and you—,” you stutter, amazed and unable to get the thoughts out fast enough before another takes its place. You manage a, “How?” and he catches on.

Not halting his actions, “Consider it a job perk,” he explains, nipping at your neck. You let out a groan as he continues his way down your column towards your chest and you relax into his touch.

“Teleportation, in simple terms, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

Despite his mouth on your skin, you somehow find the clearness of mind to ask, “Did anyone see?” Thinking about your friends and the potential hundreds of onlookers.

Yoongi’s hands rest at top of the zipper that goes the entire length of your dress, allowing for both easy putting on and quick removal. Fingers tug gently on the slider, eyes meeting yours for consent. You nod, and he answers your question as he drags it down your body torturously slow, savouring every moment he’s worked so hard to get.

He’s going to earn this privilege you’ve given him, if it's the last thing he does.

“No. And your friends won’t worry either.”

You don’t care how he knows that, not when he’s pulling off hot leather and devouring your curves with coal burning pupils. The cool air of your room causes goosebumps to rise everywhere, and your arms fly to your head, covering your eyes as you’re reminded you’d forgone a bra tonight.

There was no room for one without it squishing your tits too much and ruining the look. So with your dress gone, Yoongi has a front row seat to your nearly nude form, a blood red lace thong the only thing keeping you semi-decent.

Years of pining and denial have led up to this moment and Yoongi almost doesn’t know where to start now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. That feeling doesn’t last long though.

Wasting no more time, he takes a breast into his palm, squeezing and massaging while he lowers himself to the other, lapping the nipple of the one neglected. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, sucking it into his mouth fully and you arch into his touch, reveling in the warmth he spreads across your chest. Hands reaching for the sheets above your head for something to ground you.

“Shit,” you can already feel your pulse in your ears, thundering behind your sternum, and booming lower. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so gone.

He switches his hand and mouth, soothing the other breast with the sinful muscle he’s teased you with after all these years drinking whiskey. And by god if you don’t immediately think what it could do in other places. He’s had thousands of years to practice and the gush you feel in your panties lets you know exactly how you feel about the idea.

Using his free hand, Yoongi traces down your back, rounding your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you hiss in pleasure before settling on the back of your thigh.

You can barely stand having his hands so close to your molten heat without having any contact, and it leaves you begging, “Please…Please…”

You feel the curve of his lip quirk as teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud, gasping when he pulls off.

“Please what, Love?”

“More,” you pant. “Please. Anything. Everything. Please just touch me.”

“Mmm,” he’s back at your neck, inhaling your scent, one hand still on your thigh while the other holds him up by your ear. “Pretty Girl has manners after all, huh?”

“Oh fuck you.” you bristle, but it seems to be the reaction he’s looking for. A deeper, sluttier part of you awakening at the words you want to prove both wrong and right.

“There she is.”

Diving back into your neck, Yoongi trails wet, open mouthed kisses down, down, down. And even though you’ve never been so wet, so in the moment, and so unbelievably turned on before, the human part of you wins for a second, as you try to close your legs.

They’re pulled back open in an instant, his eyes never wavering from yours as he says, “Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” a kiss to your inner thigh. And then the other as he kneels before you.

Yoongi places each foot on either of his shoulders and you’re surprised he’s kept on your garter, stockings and red bottoms, their heels digging into his flesh. You wonder if that hurts at all, but by the way his eyes flutter and almost roll into the back of his head at the pressure they place on his frame, you think he actually likes their sting.

“You’re the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. Absolutely no part of you could ever be undesirable to me.”

His earnest tone makes you believe him, convinces you, and you’re once again pliant in his hold, opening up for him.

“Look at me,” he says, and you do. You stare directly at the Devil between your thighs. The King knelt before your lowly mortal form. “You are the most powerful person in this room, understand?”

You nod, but that’s not good enough for him.

“I need to hear it.”

“I understand.”

“Understand what?” He pushes.

“I’m the most powerful person in this room,” and it feels bold to say in front of him. But watching the way Yoongi’s expression fills with pride makes it also feel good. He wants you to feel like you’re the one in charge.

“Remember that,” he says, before ripping your underwear off and throwing them on the floor, feasting his now wholly black eyes on the sight of your dripping pussy.

The more he loses himself in you, the more of his true form reveals itself.

“Fuuuckk,” he whispers more to himself than anything. “So wet…”

Your core is tormented and throbbing at the back and forth between the cold night air and Yoongi’s hot breath and you whine, “I just bought those!”

He spares you one completely unsympathetic look.

“Don’t care. I’ll buy you more,” a deliciously ringed finger slides along your drenched folds and you’re gasping. “I’ll buy you the entire fucking store if it means I get to see you like this.”

Your voice is airy as you give in, any and all outrage gone. “Oka—ohhh!”

His mouth is on your cunt before you can breathe in the oxygen you so desperately need. He’s not holding back and your movements are not your own as you squirm. An arm rounds your pelvis holds you down, keeping you there as he devours you whole and shows you no mercy.

“Fuck, fuck, oh my god Yoongi,” you cry out, having never felt anything like this before. His tongue circles your clit as he sucks, then glides down, penetrating your opening with thrusts that make you lightheaded.

Your hands fly to his locks, pulling and pushing him down further until you're pretty sure you’re drowning him in you. Your fingertips graze his horns and it’s just a reminder that this man is definitely not human. Definitely not someone you should be letting suck your soul out through your pussy. And that makes this whole situation that much hotter.

If he minds where you touch, he doesn’t say anything about it, only groaning as he repeats his motions to get you near your peak, again and again and again until you're quaking against your will and your body is vibrating with every throb from your core.

Every single nerve ending you have is awake and being put to good use, he’s making sure of it. The dam that holds your release is starting to crumble and you don’t know how much longer you can last like this before you’re screaming bloody murder under his grip.

“Yoon…Yoongi—fuck,” you stutter, staggered breaths from your trembling chest loose as you try to verbalize, “C-close. S-so close.”

He hums, and teases a finger around your entrance, circling a few times before pressing in and up to your g-spot. The simple action undoes you and you're coming with a force you can’t even begin to describe. The waves crash down, over and over and you're moaning and cursing his name at the same time, knowing it’s going to be the only one you’ll think of in this situation from now until forever.

He guides you through the last shockwaves as you come down, and when you’re too sensitive for him to continue, you drag him up to your lips, tasting his efforts on your tongue.

“Need you now,” you rush out between kisses.

“Not yet, Love,” he says, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between the two of you.

He slips two fingers inside and swallows the resulting moan from your lips as he goes so deep enough you can feel his rings proding your opening.

“Gotta stretch you out for me first.”

Your hands are back in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he begins to scissor you open expertly. He growls into your neck at the sensation and that confirms your suspicions of him liking a little pain with his pleasure. So you scratch further down his neck, onto his shoulders and back and you dig a heel into his thigh.

“Fuck, Angel,” fingers stuttering for a second. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come right now.”

“And if I do?”

“Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because the first time I come, it’ll be with you around my cock, soaking the sheets with your own.”

Head rolling back, his words going straight to your clit. “Fuck, okay.”

“Now give me another one, Pretty Girl,” he says, picking up speed with his digits. “I know you can, pretty little slut takes my fingers so well.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

You can feel it coming this time, building and building. He uses his thumb to rub over your sensitive nub and it has you unraveling under him, screaming out and almost sobbing at the convulsions your body makes. He takes your mouth with his again, consuming your pleasure in every form he can get.

And once you come down, you’ve had it. If you don’t have him inside you within the next 2 minutes you’re going to lose it.

Ripping at his shirt, you're fumbling with the buttons. “Fuck, take this off, and those,” you say, abandoning his shirt for his belt.

Yoongi chuckles, low and sinful, “Bossy,” but gets up, and begins removing the outfit that got you into this situation in the first place. You take off the remnants of your costume as he spares you no peace of mind, the way you did him, taking off his pants and boxers in one go, freeing his mouth watering bulge from its earthy confines.

“Oh fuck me,” you say at his size. He’s big, girthy and you’ve never wanted someone inside you so badly before.

Yoongi smirks as he crawls over you, but you stop him with a hand. “Wait,” you throw a leg over his hip, and flip the two of you so you’re on top. “Let me do this.”

“Whatever you want, Angel.”

Picking up his cock, it sits heavy in your hand as you give him a couple strokes. He hisses at the contact and it only spurs you on, gathering as much saliva as you can, you open your mouth to spit, rubbing it all over his shaft and head, mixing it with the precum dribbling out of the tip.

“Fuck—”

Your 2 minutes are up. Lifting your ass, you guide yourself onto him.

“Oh my fuck, oh fuck,” you say as you slide down slowly, the stretch still very much there as he bottoms out. “Big—ohh, shit—so big.”

Yoongi’s not faring much better, eyebrows pressed together, but eyes devouring the spot where your bodies meet. His breathing is so laboured you’d think he just ran a marathon.

“So tight, Love...Fuck, look at you.”

The delicious sting subsides and you start to move, slow but purposeful thrusts that have him kissing your cervix every time. Fuck he’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been. And once you get a rhythm going there’s no stopping you. You become a force of nature as you bounce on his cock without abandon, taking this for yourself. You don’t know why, but you feel like you have a point to prove and by god you’re going to make it.

Because if the Devil chose you, you’re going to make damn sure he doesn’t regret it.

“Fuck, fuck you’re doing so good,” he rasps, throwing his head back into the pillows, eyes shut in pure bliss, murmuring. “Feels so good.”

His praise pushes you farther, riding harder, grinding your clit against his pelvis, owning both your pleasures.

You’re the most powerful person here.

You are the one in control despite being on top of arguably the most powerful man on the planet. It makes you feel safe and strong and invincible.

And you want to continue, you really do, but your legs are starting to give, so you let him know.

“Ass up for me then,” he says, and you listen, climbing off of him and wincing at the feeling of him slipping out. He gets behind you, lining himself up again and this time it’s much easier as he sinks in, both of you groaning at the contact.

Yoongi hands go to your hips, gripping and squeezing and molding the globes of your ass as you anchor your cheek to the bedsheets.

“That’s it, Pretty Girl, all the way down for me.”

His first thrust has you seeing stars. You're nothing and everything as he continues, but you need more. You need to not be able to speak. To walk. You need to have every thought fucked out of your head. You need him so deep you’ll feel it for a week afterwards.

“Faster,” you beg. “Harder, please.”

“There are those manners I was looking for,” he says and picks up his pace.

You’re incoherent, saying things you’ve never dared to utter out loud before, making admissions you swore to take to your grave and Yoongi is eating up every single last one of them.

Because this is about you. This is about proving years of your denial’s fruitless. This is about him and how you make him lose every ounce of self control he has when he’s around you and how badly he’s wanted you since the day you met. This is about ruining every other man for you, making sure you know what true pleasure feels like, know how you deserve to be treated, and hearing his name on your lips when you come. When your cunt clenches so hard he has to fight tooth and nail to milk every ounce of bliss from it.

This is about him wanting to hear him make you feel good. Needing to hear him make you feel good.

This is about you.

And he can feel you starting to clamp up again, can feel you getting close. So he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers going straight for your pussy.

You shriek, body consumed by the even strokes he delivers as well as the smooth circles around your most sensitive spot, and he revels in it. This is what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s desired over everything else.

You, underneath him in so much pleasure you’re almost non-verbal.

Perfect in every single way.

“Taking me so well, dirty girl. Love the feeling of my cock splitting you open?” he hears a muffled cry and you nod your head. “Knew you would, knew you could take me.”

He delivers a smack to your ass and he feels you clench, so he soothes the battered area before handing out another, soothing that one out too.

“You’re so good for me, pretty little whore so greedy, sucking me in. Why’d you make me think you didn’t want me all these years, hmm? Was I not good enough for you?”

You bury your face in your sheets. Well that certainly won’t do. So he slows his fingers as he reiterates. “Was I not good enough for you then, Angel? Am I good enough for you now?”

“Yes,” you mutter, barely loud enough to hear.

“What was that?” he slows again to a near burningly slow pace, soaking in the feel of you around his fingers and dick. It feels like a place he once called home.

“Yes!” you bellow. “So good…so good to me…more than enough.”

The praise fuels him, and he picks up the speed of everything, cock pounding you into the mattress, fingers rubbing an achingly mind-blowing pattern on your clit. It pushes you over the edge for the third time tonight, your fluttering cunt around his dick almost has him losing it. Almost has him coming undone with you, but he manages to hold it back.

Not yet.

You're silent in your screams this time, overwhelmed with the feelings, fingers nearly ripping your sheets in half at how hard it hit you. How hard you contract around him.

Oh he’s never going to get sick of this feeling.

Ever.

And instead of guiding you down this time, he removes himself quickly, flips you over on your back and inserts himself once more.

He needs that feeling again. Needs you again. You claimed him for yourself whether you knew it or not all those years ago, he was simply following orders. He was yours the second your eyes met for the first time and he’s never looked back since. No one was ever good enough from that moment on, not a single creature on any plane of existence.

There was only you.

Yoongi’s never felt anything so pure and so sinful and so right as you pulsing around him does. He exists only for this feeling. Only for you. It took a couple thousand years, but at least now he knows.

And so he doesn’t slow down, pushing you through your oversensitivity.

It’s time for him to finally claim you back.

“I can’t,” you beg, “it hurts.”

“Not for long, Pretty Girl” he says in his lowest registar. “You can take it, I know you can. Give me one more, I know you have it in you.”

Yoongi’s noticed his words have almost the same effect on you as his motions, so he uses them to their full potential. And as he can sense your fourth orgasm about to land, you surprise him by whispering directly into his ear and raking your nails down his back as hard as you can.

“Only for you, Yoongi.”

His thrusts stutter.

“Fuck!”

He’s coming.

He’s coming hard. With you, with your name on his lips. It's violent and visceral and vicious and vibrant. It’s beautiful. You’re combined divine deliverance.

It’s the first time he’s said your name.

And it’s something he’s going to keep locked away in his memory for millenia to come as he covers your inner walls in the most sickeningly sweet shade of white.

You’re relentless, milking him over and over and over for all he’s worth, not letting up until your body is ready too, ruthless in your quest for ultimate euphoria and he takes it.

Whatever you want. Whatever you need.

It’s yours.

He’ll make it so.

At whatever cost to him, you'll get it. There isn't a doubt in his mind as you finally come down, body lighter, eyes glazed over, devastating smile on your lips.

He’s the first to move, going to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet cloth to clean you up. You’re blissfully spent, unable to get up even if you wanted to, limbs like jelly, still in a brain fogged haze.

You got exactly what you wanted.

He cleans his release from your form, naked save for the pink stone he gave you around your neck. Then tosses the cloth in your hamper and lies back down, covering you both with sheets. You cuddle up to him, tossing a leg around his torso, and lying your head on his chest. Contented.

And he’s silent until he can’t stand it any longer. He has to know.

“What changed?”

“Hmm?”

“What about tonight made you change your mind?”

You take a deep breath through your nose. “I…stopped fighting it. The feeling like we would never work, the feeling that I would never be good enough, that we were too different,” he listens intently as your fingers trace patterns on his chest, explaining. “And I was sick of denying myself. It’s my birthday. Shouldn't I get whatever I want on my birthday?”

That seductive smirk makes an appearance.

“Yes.”

“Plus you looked to damn fine in that outfit. A girl only has so much willpower, you know? It’s easier at work when there’s a bar and my job between us, but there was none of that tonight. Just the shots in my system and my unwavering desire to ride your face.”

Yoongi laughs, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something as beautiful as his smile before.

“Next time,” he says. A promise.

You fall back into a comfortable silence that has you thinking.

“What about you?” you ask.

“What about me?”

“Why am I the only one you like? The only one you put up with.”

He ponders for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say.

“I think about the time we met often. There was something about you that was different that day, and I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what, but when I saw you I knew I would never think of you the same way I do everyone else. There was something special about your gaze in mine, your company, your soul.”

“My soul?”

“Mhm.”

“You’ve never asked for mine before.”

“Never needed it.”

At that, you joke, “Is there something you’d sell your soul for?”

“You.”

Before you can say all the nothing in your head at his answer, he takes a deep breath that has you rising and falling with it. Something about what he’s going to say next is going to have heavy importance to him.

You just know it.

“You… made me—make me…want to be better. Do better.”

You’re speechless. Not the kind you were moments before. No, you’re truly and genuinely speechless.

You never expected anything like that.

You knew your presence in his life carried a different weight than others, a different air. It’s why you could speak so casually, insult him, and exist near him without fearing for your life. It was something no one had seen from him in thousands of years.

Kindness. Patience.

The man who’s job it is to run the universes torture capital, punishing those who deserve it without an ounce of mercy for eternity and killing those who looked at him the wrong way. The physical entity of the word evil, wanted to be better.

Because of you.

“I don't know what to say.”

“You don't need to say anything,” he kisses the top of your head, tender. “Having you with me is more than enough.”

You can do that.

“Okay,” you say, craning your neck to kiss him. It’s long, languid, and full of emotions you don't want to acknowledge right now, there’s too many of them to sort through in your post four orgasms brain to be able to process properly.

Tomorrow you can start. Right now you just want to bask in the afterglow of the most amazing birthday you've ever had.

“So this wasn’t a one time thing?” Yoongi clarifies.

“It definitely wasn't a one time thing,” not a chance in Hell.

He was yours now.

The Devil was yours.

King of the Underworld, god among men, catastrophe breathing evil was yours. And it brings the biggest smile to your face.

“Oh thank fuck.”

“Not thank God?” you tease.

Yoongi groans. “Do not bring my father into this.”

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

2K notes · View notes

demonic0angel · 9 months

Text

Hotel AU

Jason groaned, holding a military grade field dressing to his wound as he tried his best to walk faster. Gunshots rang behind him and instinct allowed him to dodge, but one bullet still managed to graze him by the shoulder. It only made pain flare up worse, but Jason just sucked in a breath through his teeth and toiled onward to get to safety.

His comms buzzed in his ear, but no one was available at the moment. Jason still muttered a soft, "Requiring backup."

No one answered.

Jason, for an existential crisis-having moment, wondered if he was gonna die again.

Just as he thought this, a hand grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into another building.

Jason cursed and pulled out his gun with his unfortunately injured hand and pointed it towards his assailant, but then paused.

He had been pulled into a beautiful, first class looking hotel area.

"What the..." he started, before he turned.

An enormously tall woman smiled down at him. She was outrageously beautiful, with long red hair tied into a ponytail and a neat uniform covered by an apron. "Welcome, sir, to the Phantom Hotel! You seem to be in need of some assistance, would you like some help?"

Jason felt eerily calm and level headed, even as he bled all over the floors. "... that'd be nice." He said gruffly.

"Right away, sir." She said with a smile. She waved to someone over to his side and continued to speak. "I'm the co-owner of this hotel, you may call me Jazz. May I get your name for registration?"

Jason still didn't freak out yet. "Registration?" He echoed, as he took in his surroundings.

The hotel was beautiful, with tall ceilings, marble floors, white walls and candle chandeliers that glowed with dim lighting. People that didn't look like Gothamites milled around the lobby and sitting area, all relaxed and chatting amicably. There were a few that were dancing to club music. There was a noticeable bar in the corner of the room that looked unstaffed but was conspicuous in its size and black coloring.

"Yes, sir." Jazz said. "I assume that you're staying the night? We offer breakfast in the morning, and drinks are free all night!"

Jason was silent for a moment. A person wearing a similar uniform to Jazz, with a dark green vest and dark colored apron, approached them and immediately got to bandaging Jason's wounds.

Once again, Jason did not freak. He felt oddly calm, and in the back of his head, he knew that he was safe here. His gut instinct was to collapse on top of Jazz and take a nap, strangely comforted by her presence.

"... why am I so calm?"

Fuck it. He decided to just voice his question.

Jazz giggled. It was a cute noise. "Why wouldn’t you be? There’s nothing to worry about. We're the same, after all!"

Jason blinked. Then he turned to her as the attendant stepped away with the medical box, Jason feeling all healed up, and he said, "Is a night here free?"

"For you? Yep! Everything is free here."

Jason gave a nod. "Then I'll take a room with a single bed, please. Breakfast is free?"

"Yes, sir."

"Great. The name's Jason Todd."

Jazz smiled, a sparkle in her eyes that made Jason feel all fuzzy with warmth. "Very good, sir. Your room number is 312, on the third floor. Here's your room card." She handed over a plastic card that was procured out of thin air but Jason didn't think about it.

He was mentally exhausted and being in her presence made him feel like he was going to drop and fall asleep on the floor and still wake up refreshed. It was so disconcerting that it was almost not disconcerting.

Jason eventually found the elevator, though not without lingering a little around the area. The vigilante in him was telling him to be careful, even though everything else inside of him couldn't give less of a damn and was telling him to kick back and relax. Jazz, after registering him, had gone to the bar to prepare drinks.

She mixed together alcoholic concoctions amidst a small crowd and the more Jason stared, the more it seemed like the dim light was hiding something. People looked like they were wearing ragged clothes and a lot of them had dark stains. There were quite a large amount of old people as well, along with people with seemingly missing appendages.

The last two details wasn't a bad thing, but the amount of them seemed like a hint to something bigger.

When Jazz made eye contact with Jason, she gave a sweet smile and a little wave, and that was Jason's signal to leave.

He got into an elevator, went to his room, and practically sank into the cloud-like bed before he basically knocked himself out. That night, he had never slept so well.

When he woke up, his body felt rejuvenated and he almost felt peppy. It was as if his previous irritations were only bad days and he had finally struck on a good day for once.

He washed up, miraculously found his wounds all healed up, and when he went to take a shower, his clothes were found on the sink, all washed and patched up. Even his helmet had been cleaned and fixed, pristine like the day he had first gotten it.

Jason could've been more suspicious.

But to reiterate, he couldn't.

Everything about this place was like a mother's hug. It was comforting. It made him feel safe. He felt like there was nothing to worry about and although a small part of him found this alarming, he really couldn't explain why he decided to trust it.

When he came down the elevator for breakfast, he was astonished.

Last night, the hotel had looked elegant and high class. Now, in the morning, everything looked warm and homey.

The various large rectangle tables had turned into small round tables that were densely packed together. The floor was a cool blue carpet and the walls had turned a shade of cream. The ceiling had shrank, but now flowers and vines grew from it, dropping from the ceiling with bright blossoms. The bar had been replaced with a little coffee area, with a young man behind the counter, currently taking orders.

The people sitting around and eating their breakfasts looked different in morning light. They glowed with faint shades of blue and green.

Jason paused to take in the sight, considering this information before he shook it off and approached the counter.

The man, after noticing him, immediately went to the cash register with a large smile on his face. "Hello!" He said cheerfully.

Jason immediately noted the similarities between him and Jazz. They had the same heart shaped face, the same ethereal beauty to them, the same nose and smile. This man, however, had bright blue eyes and dark black hair that swept over his eyes.

"What are you drugging me with? I'm way too comfortable here." Jason blurted out.

The man paused. And then he burst out laughing. Jason couldn't help the few snickers that fell out of his throat too, but they both quickly calmed down and the man explained softly, "We're not drugging you. You're just comfortable here because it's where you belong. Don't stress too much."

He continued to smile reassuringly. "Call me Danny. I'm the owner. What would you like to order?"

Jason's eyes flicked to the menu and then he said, "A California club croissant and a caramel latte, please."

"Coming right up, big guy!"

Jason moved a little bit away to the side so that other people could order.

He couldn't help but contemplate what was going on, but it was a little hard to think being this close to Danny's presence. The urge to fight against his soothed mind and the urge to just relax were warring, but unfortunately, his latter side was winning.

If Jazz had seemed comforting and like a hug, then Danny was the blanket, fireplace, hot chocolate cup and book on a cool rainy evening. It was like Danny was his missing piece that just sucked out all of the fear, misery, and rage inside of him.

It was almost crazy how Jason didn't want to retaliate against them at all.

"Here you go, Jason." A voice interrupted him and Jason looked up into crystalline eyes before something was pushed into his hands.

Jason looked down at his order and then up again. "Thanks."

Danny smiled. "No problem! You're pretty freaked out, huh?"

Jason shrugged. Then he thought about it and he asked, "Can I leave?"

"Of course you can." Danny said. "Come back anytime. For someone like you, you have the opportunity to come by anytime you want."

Jason nodded wordlessly and then, with his order in hand, he started walking to the door.

For one last time, he turned and met Danny's eyes. Danny smiled cheerfully, his eyes squinted in happiness. He gave a big wave and Jason returned it before he put on his helmet and pushed past the doors into the open air of Gotham's polluted and smoky world.

The rose glasses fell off and the pink sparkles faded away with each blink.

Jason stared dumbfounded at his own state of body and mind, as his siblings and family all screamed into his ear frantically, begging to know where he went and how he was.

Jason could only stare at the gray, listless world around him and wonder if he had imagined everything.

"What the fuck?"

#dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom x dc #danny fenton #jason todd #jazz fenton #dcxdp #dpxdc #hotel au #dp au #dp x dc au #one shot #spoiler: the hotel is a hotel for the dead >:)#it’s back to school for me :’<

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horrorartsworld · 6 days

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Hey!! A mutual just sent me your fic "A manspreading man" and gosh,,,definitely one of the best steamy Alastor x reader I've read 😩❤ If you're okay with it, could I request an Alastor x shy!reader where a cozy night when neither of them can sleep so they stay up, maybe having tea together too but, they end up getting steamy with each other?,, 😳 Love your work!! ❤❤

𝓉𝑒𝒶 𝑔𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓁𝒹

alastor/shy f!reader

warnings: smut w/ a lil fluffies. pet names. kind of primal alastor. p in v. fingering. dub con. not proofread.

aww thank you nonnie baby!! tbh manspreading man was one of my favorites to write so i’m very glad to hear that you liked it so much to request something this lovely & spicy 🤭 got me going back to my roots with writing for al lol, i hope u enjoy <3

For some odd reason you couldn’t fall asleep. Not that the noises of constant terrors outside and the old sounds of the hotel didn’t have you usually sleeping like a baby it’s just that tonight of all nights seemed different.

Having you tossing and turning like a flopping fish, moments of just staring at the empty ceiling, or throwing a pillow over your face in hopes that you might suffocate yourself to sleep, but none of those seemed to help your ongoing sleep deprivation.

Finally after the last toss you turned you end up throwing yourself out of bed with a huff and your feet seem to oddly enough lead you to none of than Alastor’s quarters right across from your room. The door being slightly cracked enough to let you peak inside, hearing the inviting soft crackly of a jazz record playing and seeing the flicker of a candle going on an end table. Though it seemed very inviting you couldn’t help the sudden nervousness you felt wash over you when you went to approach the door, hugging the blanket you dragged along the way for some kind of support in this. Since you did have a crush on the deer fellow after all and everytime he would come around you would loose all your senses and look like an utter idiot when you’d scurry away from him to save face. In which you were completely committed to doing right now until the door suddenly swung open and you were met with Alastor’s elegantly tall stature.

“Oh!- Well hello my dear..” He speaks surprised to see you standing there holding your blanket in hand, hearing the static in his voice instantly turning your cheeks pink. “What brings you to my door at this hour.?”

You shift on your feet fiddling with your hands in the blanket before speaking, “m’ sorry a-alastor i-i just couldn’t sleep..i’ll be going now..” Your eyes trained on the buttons of his blazer, never meeting his gaze in knowing you’d blush more if you did while you spoke, quickly turning on your heel to make your way back to your room though his clawed hand grabbed your wrist before you could completely make your getaway.

Then you were pulled back to face him, his other hand coming up to your chin to make you look up at him, your cheeks instantly warming up more like you knew they would. “Can’t sleep? You poor thing..I actually have quite the remedy for such things..” He hums, then suddenly letting go of you to grab something from a cupboard leaving you standing there in his doorway.

After a second or two he turns his head to see you standing there sheepishly earning a soft chuckle from him. “Come sit dear..it’ll just be a moment.” He says nodding over to an antique arm chair that sat next to an intricate round table with a matching chair on the other side to go with it.

You shimmy yourself over to it making yourself comfortable on the chair, seeming to feel a bit more relaxed now that you were seated. Alastor then comes to sit down across from you holding two warm teacups that you were sure he used his demon magic to conjure to a certain temp, gesturing it out to you to take. “It’s Chamomile Tea…should do the trick for your sleeplessness..” He says taking his own sip before you did, letting the cup warm up your hands until you tasted it yourself feeling instantly at ease when it went down your throat.

“Wow…that’s good! Thank you Al!” You say with a soft hum and a smile causing Alastor’s smile to look more gentle though something was silently brewing behind those mischievous dial eyes.

“My pleasure my dear…my pleasure indeed..” He takes another sip as there’s a long pause between the two of you. Seeing his gaze over the rim of the cup had wandered down your chest to your hips in an indiscreet way, making your breath slightly falter at the sight.

“S-so…what’re you doing up so late as well?” Your gentle voice hardly above a whisper when you stammer out the question.

“Well I hardly ever sleep..too much to do..and too many folks out there trying to put my head on a mount..” He says nonchalantly in which you nod knowing this was very true with his background, but it was hard to even focus on a simple conversation like this one when his gaze continued its improper cycle along your body.

“Um A-alastor?” You tilt your head down trying to catch his eyes in attempt at getting his attention back by making him realize what he was doing though he already was very much aware what he was doing.

“Hmm? Oh sorry dear, it’s just that…fuck..” He unexpectedly cruses causing your thighs to staple shut when a warmth radiates through your core. Your eyes widening at his outburst, taking note that his chest was rising and falling rather quickly. “W-what’s the matter?” You mutter out confused, big doe eyes searching for some kind of answer on his unreadable face.

A tension brews as a low crackly chuckle escapes from his lips, “You like me don’t you little fawn?”

The unexpected question making a lump form in your throat. Why was he asking this? Were you that obvious? “Going quiet on me now?” His voice rippling through your thoughts with a sense of mocking in his tone. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of darling…” He trails off then getting up from his chair with a creak from its old legs, rounding the small table to come and tower over you, microphone buzzing when he sets it beside him as he leaned into you very close with ether hands at the sides of you clutching the arms of your chair. “..I’m quite fond of you myself..” He husks, his once static voice turning to his normal one as he leaned into your ear to utter those words.

“Y-you are?” You manage to find your voice again, feeling as if the chamomile tea had already kicked in and you were in a surreal dream.

“Mmm yess..” He practically purrs while he toys with the hem of your sleep shorts before riding it up so he can peer down at your plush thighs that were trembling so desperately to try and keep them sealed shut. Then thumbing over the sensitive flesh there he forces them open with his claws digging into them so he could hoist you up and wrap your legs around his hips to bring you to bed and once he has you there he lays you down with him on top but keeping your legs secured around him. “..Feel how much i yearn for you,” he says almost like a question as you then feel him grind his hard on into your clothed warmth. Your face burning as you nod. “Good girl..Shall I show you what I want to do to you?” once more nodding your head he can’t help the low growl admitting from the back of his throat when he slides a finger under the hem of your shorts and pulls them down towards the floor, primal eyes locking onto the wetness of your panties. The sight making his smile enlarged.

“My, My...so soaked just from that?” He couldn’t help but tease, in one single motion ripping your panties off, discarding them just like the shorts.

A low humming buzz is heard when Alastor gets a full view of your needy slick. Pretty pussy, all puffy and red, begging for a good fuck. You couldn’t help instinctively attempt at closing your legs once more with how vulnerable you were infront of him, but he holds them open forcefully with his hands. “Sweetheart..no need to shy away from me…i’m gonna make you feel so good..” you whimper softly just by those cooed words alone, along with the two fingers that were now invading your entrance. The sensation making your body shake as he did it without warning, moving in slow in and out strokes with his fingers, making wet sloshy noises with the air with your hushed whimpers. His fingers feeling like they were so far inside that they’ve reached max capacity…Was his fingers always this long?

“Al-al!..” You whine breathlessly, an all too familiar feeling stirring beneath your tummy with your cunt clenching around his fingers, but he immediately stops just before you could fully come undone.

“Not yet...” He hums with a knowing smile, gently patting your cheek with the other hand. You pout at this though that was quickly replaced when his fingers come in contact with his mouth, softly slurping up the left slick on his fingers, before he crashes his lips on yours, long tongue invading your space making you taste the tangy yet neutral flavor of your own arousal, all while your hips rut against his own in hopes to get that feeling back of your lost euphoria.

Finally getting the hint from your movements he pulls back and takes out his cock, tantalizing tapping it against your aching slit before fully pressing it into your already awaiting pussy. A loud enough cry following with his cock stretching you out with it’s full enough size, reaching much farther lengths then his fingers did. “Such a snug little thing you are,” He hisses while rutting into you, your body bouncing and recoiling with every thrust.

Your head falls back into the mattress, mumbling curses under your breath as the feeling was driving you mad, making him chuckle as you seem to squeeze him in tighter. “You like that..the way my cock just goes in…and out..” He groans as he emphasizes the in and out part by going slow and hard, his cock hitting the wall of your cervix even when he goes slow. “Hey..let me see those pretty fucked out eyes..” he growls lowly, “Atta girl..,” his finger leaning your chin down to look at him, the sight of him so sinful it almost made you come undone on the spot.

His ears flat amongst his head, eyes low and focused and his lip curled almost in a smirk with sweat lining his forehead. You wanted that imagine burned in your brain, which you couldn’t help but admit in your slur of babbles passing from your lips, which only made him fuck you even harder. “Mphmm, yeah? Burned in your brain huh..? That can be arranged..” He snickers genuinely considering haunting you with this imagine from time to time just to make you squirm.

Soon enough, the tightening of your tummy comes back once more and your walls contracts around Alastor’s cock harder then you’d expect. The cum creaming down his cock and dripping onto his sheets beneath you though his pace and speed never lets up. If anything it becomes more impactful as he works up his own orgasm, with you feeling overly sensitive.

His claws dig into your hips as his own snaps ferociously against yours and your post-cumming expression floating in your big eyes was enough to have him over the edge. “I’m gonna make you feel nice and full okay sweetheart?” He seethes out as his hips sputter and he spills his load into your spent little womb.

Slowly pulling out and away, he makes a towel appear in his hand to help you clean up. A soft whimper making its way out at the hollowness you now felt inside, but you were starting to feel sleepy with a small yawn coming after your whimper. “That’s it’s darling…you can sleep now..” He then tucks you under the covers gently with a soft kiss to your forehead seeing your eyes fluttering gently into slumber, completely spent with the workout he just gave you.

After he cleans himself and gets dressed he walks over to the abounded teacups eyeing his own carefully, when he realizes in the murky brew that he accidentally spiked his own somehow, chuckling at his own mix up that ether way seemed to do the trick for your tiresome night.

“No wonder the tea’s gone cold..”

#☆⋆｡𖦹 my writings #☆⋆｡𖦹anon’s #☆⋆｡𖦹 alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel smut #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor smut #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor x reader #alastor imagine #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor

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jinjeriffic · 3 months

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DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 4

Part 3

Aaaah, Tim had missed undercover work! There was just something thrilling about becoming a whole new person by making a few small tweaks here and there. He had combed his hair in a side-part, carefully applied make-up to make his skin look paler and his eyes bigger and put on a pair of thick rimmed glasses. Worn sneakers, baggy jeans, a loose plaid flannel shirt with a hoodie tied around his waist hid his lean, muscular frame. A slight slouch and his old high-school backpack completed the look. Goodbye Tim Drake-Wayne, Gotham socialite. Hello Adam Taylor, college freshman.

Jason took one look at him and practically fell over laughing.

“Oh my God, you look like a total dork! Would you like some braces to go with that?” he heckled, catching himself against the side of the car.

“I’ll have you know that this is the height of broke college student chic,” Tim sniffed in mock offence, “It’s called ‘blending in’ Jason. Maybe you should try it!” He walked past his snickering brother to get in the passenger’s seat of the beat-up Ford they used for travelling incognito.

“No thanks, I’ll leave the theatre performance to you,” Jason drawled, tossing the keys in one hand before getting behind the wheel. “I’ll just hang back and keep an eye out in case things go tits up.”

“I don’t even know why you insisted on coming along. I’m just going to question a civilian!”

Jason gave him a Look before starting the engine. “A civilian raised by mad scientists. The way our lives work, we’ll find her building Kryptonite powered robots in the janitor’s closet or something.”

“And the fact that she’s a cute red-head has nothing to do with it?” Tim teased.

“Nope!”

“Liar.”

The drive to Metropolis passed in a mix of mutual ribbing, arguing over radio stations and discussion of recent cases. They carefully avoided the elephant in the room - the reason for their current investigation. The sullen anger of their youngest brother, the quiet grief in Bruce’s eyes whenever he thought no one was watching and the mounting tension within the family. Tim doubted that this excursion would be all that fruitful, but he needed to get out and do something for the sake of his own sanity. The last thing he wanted was to watch Bruce emotionally implode over what may or may not be another dead son.

Getting onto the university campus was no problem. Tim had a fake student ID on him just in case, but it looked like he needn’t have bothered. His hacking had revealed that Jasmine Fenton checked into the university library after her last class almost every day, so it was just a matter of biding his time. He sat at one of the carrel desks, idly flipping through the latest issue of Forbes. I wonder if Luthor’s new tech acquisition means he’s up to something? Hm…

“Heads up, target at your 10,” came Jason’s murmur through Tim’s earpiece. Tim turned another page then sat up and stretched, glancing around casually. He instantly recognized the red-head from his earlier research. Tall and light build, long hair held back by a head-band, wearing skinny jeans and a dark grey sweater. She made her way over to the row of desks, carrying a small stack of books and a pencil case. She walked past Tim, only sparing him a glance and eventually settled down at the table farthest from the entrance and away from the other students. Perfect.

Tim got up and returned his magazine to the periodicals section before meandering over to Jasmine’s desk. He put on his best impression of a nervous smile. Showtime.

“Hey, is this seat taken?”

She only glanced up from her work briefly then went right back to taking notes. “No, knock yourself out,” she said in a bored tone.

Tim pulled out the chair next to hers and turned it slightly to face her. He sat down and cleared his throat.

“Hi, sorry to bother you. I’m Adam. Adam Taylor,” he lied, offering his hand to her. She gave him a tight, polite smile and shook hands with him.

“Jazz Fenton,” Her tone was light, but her body language screamed ‘please go away’. Tim filed the nickname away for later, “Look, it’s really nice to meet you but I have this project I need to work on, so…”

Ah, she probably thinks I’m trying to hit on her, Tim thought.

“Oh, I understand completely! I don’t wanna take up too much of your time, I just… I was just wondering if you could tell me about… you know,” he whispered with affected hesitation, “...ghosts.”

The smile dropped from her face and her gaze sharpened. “Excuse me?”

“Sorry! It’s just… your parents run Fenton Works, right? The ecto-biologists?” Tim rushed out, “I just wanted to hear your opinion on their work…” he trailed off at the look of tightly controlled anger on her face. She turned and scanned the room around them.

“Alright. Where’s the camera?”

Tim was caught completely wrong footed. Was she onto them?

“Camera? What camera?” he hedged. She slammed her notebook shut and glared at him.

“I get it. Lets pretend to interview the girl with the crazy ghost hunter parents and have a good laugh at her on social media later. Very funny, har har,” Jazz stuffed her pen back in its case with sharp movements, “Well I have better things to do than make you TikTok famous, so if you’ll excuse me,” she gathered up her books and stood.

Tim winced. He really needed to salvage this situation and quickly. He held up his hands in a placating gesture.

“I’m not filming you, honest! I just read some of your parents’ papers and wanted a second opinion on their research! They, ah… they seem pretty biased,” he said apologetically.

Jazz narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. “Why are you researching ghosts, then?”

The best lies are built on truth.

“Because…” Tim took a deep breath, “I think my brother might be one,” he forced out, then swallowed hard and looked away.

“Oh,” the anger had drained from her voice, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Tim glanced at her as she sat back down. “Thanks,” he croaked and blinked away fake tears. They sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Adam, what makes you think your brother might have come back as a ghost?” Jazz asked gently.

Tim collected himself for a moment, thinking about how to score the most sympathy points.

“It’s hard to explain. My younger brother… he saw something strange and now my whole family is freaking out. Dad is putting on a brave face but I can tell this is eating him up inside but he refuses to talk about it. I just… I need to know if there’s a scientific explanation to all this. I need to make sense of this whole mess!” he looked up at her through his lashes with his best puppy-dog expression, “Please, can you help me?”

Tim could practically hear her heart melting.

“And the Oscar goes to… Timbird!” Jason teased over the comms.

“Alright. But not here,” Jazz said, standing up again, “This is gonna take some time. And diagrams.”

Oh goodie.

Part 5

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #batman #batfamily #jazz fenton #tim drake #red robin #jason todd #red hood #prophecy universe #the one where clockwork uses prophecies to mess things up (and set things right)#tim drake loves acting #help how did this get so long

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cypherthesuccubus · 1 month

Text

I’m not done with you yet….darling~

Alastor x Reader -Part 1- (NSFW) (MDNI)!!!!

WARNINGS: smut, blood kink, bondage, slight S&M, Dom/Sub, rough rutting, mate marking, leash play/ownership, slight degradation, praise kink, body worship, ass worship, cock worship, she/her pronouns, vaginal sex, creampie, facial

Other Tags: Fluff, Angst

Note: Reader will receive aftercare

I hope you guys like this!! I’m not the best writer, but I wanted to write something for y’all. Enjoy Part 1~😈 @starlightdreaming and everyone who voted 🥰

The sound of smooth jazz was playing softly through the dimly lit room. The fire place and a simple floor lamp being the only light source to help see through the darkness. Shadows danced around the room almost as if they are anxious to do more than outline the elaborate decor. In the corner of the room was a lush scene of a forest with tall trees and thick grass coating that part of the hard wood floor. In the middle of the forest scene sit an elegant little table and chair; resembling something you would see at a luxurious cafe. A ominous figure; sitting cross legged in that chair; humming the tune that was playing while tapping his foot that touch the grass floor. Setting his mug down on the table; flipping through the news paper. Alastor hums at the current topics being discussed; finding them amusing that such things would even make it into the papers. Proper entertainment was a thing of the past it seems. He wished he could drum up some chaos like old times, but he knew he couldn’t on account of Charlie and the others. Where’s Mimzy when you needed her to bring the fun around? Oh well~ there’s only so much he can do when he has other priorities to attend to. Soon enough he’ll be able to find some proper entertainment eventually, but of course right now, Charlie is currently hosting a group activity downstairs to welcome a new guest to the hotel. Better not disappoint and make a bad impression on the new arrival. Putting the paper down while fixing his bow tie; Alastor stands and makes his way towards the bedroom door; putting alittle pep in his step while folding his hands behind his back; holding his staff while putting on his signature awarding winning smile like always.

(Y/N’s P.O.V)

“A shot at redemption didn’t sound so bad. Maybe I should give it a chance before I make any rash decisions.” I thought as I approach the newly refurbished Hazbin Hotel. Funny name for a hotel, but I guess it fits. I didn’t even have a chance to knock on the door as it was yanked wide open. There stood in the doorway was Ms. Sunshine herself; Princess Charlie. She definitely was much taller in person that’s for sure. Her smile was definitely the brightest thing to ever grace hell with its radiance. Hard to believe someone as bubbly and sweet like this was born here in hell. “HEY THERE!!! WELCOME TO THE HAZBIN HOTEL!!!! I’m Charlie and I’m here to give personally give you a tour of this place!!!” She basically announced with so much excitement. I’ve never thought in a million years that there would be a chance to be redeemed after death. I mean if the angels could be killed, maybe redemption was possible too. Charlie takes me by the hand and leads me into the lobby where a little group demons were already gathered; sitting on the couches or on the floor. Almost like they’re having some sort of circle time. Charlie then leads me to the group and sits me down; facing the coffee table that’s sitting in the middle of the circle. “But before the tour, we had a planned group activity today where we all introduce ourselves. Since you’re right on time, did you want to go first new friend?” I shook my head “No I can go last…I don’t mind waiting to know everyone else first.” She gave me a reassuring smile and pats me on the back “Ok no problem!, you take all the time you need to prepare.” I sighed in relief. I’m not that great with introductions and being a little on the shy side was not easy either. I want to make friends, but sometimes I could never find the words to say. So often I tend to clam up if I’m too anxious. The intros started off with Charlie of course as she talked about her interests and what made her the most happy.

Then it went down the line with Vaggie; Charlie’s girlfriend; making her intro. Then it was Angel Dust after her; he definitely made me laugh with his sex jokes and constant flirting with this guy Husky? Turned out it was actually Husker; Husky was one of the many names Angel calls him to annoy the fuck out of him really. Then it was this cute little thing called Niffty. She reminded me of a doll from how tiny she was; just simply adorable. Then it was the emo punk like girl with a high ponytail; she called herself Cherri. I think I like her too just as much as Angel Dust. It seemed like they were already besties from how they interacted with each other. I hope they can consider me as a bestie too cause honestly they seem like they know how to have fun. It would probably help tremendously with this shyness of mine to get to know people better. Just then I felt a shift in my hears as if like on an airplane with the shift of pressure. Static like feelings was going up and down my body as if being shocked gently. In the corner of my eye I see this shadow rise from the ground to form a figure that looked to have deer like ears and two tiny antlers on top of the head along with a microphone like staff being held behind this figures back. The shadows finally disappeared to present the one and only Radio demon himself.

Dressed in his red pinstriped coat with black and red cuffed slacks to match his recently shined shoes. His black bow tie sat perfectly at the neck; making him look like the distinguished gentleman he made himself to be. His wide smile; unfaltering while it slightly glowed along with his ruby red eyes from him standing in the dimmer part of the lobby. Giving him an almost eerie appearance like a predator looking for its next meal. He approaches more into the light of the lobby now getting a better view of him in detail “Hello everyone! I do apologize for being a little late. I had some urgent errands to take care of, but now I’m finally here like I promised.” Charlie looks up at him and clasps her hands together “Oh perfect! We’re just going through the introductions now. Everyone pretty much just went through theirs except you and our new friend here.” She gestures to me with a cheery grin. That’s when his eyes finally locked on me. I looked at him back and instantly regret it. Once I locked eyes with him it seemed like his smile grew wider as his eyes darted down then back up. I looked down into my lap to hide my now flushed face. I swallowed hard from anxiety I felt at that moment. If he was the predator then he is definitely making me feel like the prey right now. It didn’t help he was also handsome to boot; making me all the more nervous. “Oh wonderful! Well the name’s Alastor my dear! A pleasure to be meeting you!” I look back up to him as to not be rude of course. When will I ever learn? He leans down in a bow staring straight into my soul with half lidded eyes; grin growing wider as he spoke in a lower almost sultry voice

“Quite the pleasure~”

(Alastor’s P.O.V)

How curious? As soon as spoke my usual greeting, this new guest instantly turned red and buried her face into her hoodie. I could have sworn I also heard a faint high pitched whimper as well. Interesting~ Charlie then speaks up “Ok Alastor!, now tell our new guest what you like to do for fun, and what makes you the happiest!” The annoying one, Vaggatha, turned to her “Charlie I don’t he’s gonna admit anything like that to us.” For someone who is as irritating as her she’s actually right for once. “Indeed so!” I look towards the new guest again; the feeling curiosity took over again, but this time I wanted to push it just a little bit….further. “Cause that is for and only me to know….buuuut~” I lean down once again as she just peaked her head out again “if curiosity gets the better of you…then who am I to stop you if you have “a little death” wish~” WHAT. DID. I. JUST. SAY?!?! WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!?!?! I WOULD NEVER SAY THIS!!!!! NOT TO ANYONE!!!! As soon as I said it, she let out another whimper this time; only it was a bit louder that everyone could hear it this time. She buried herself deeper into her hoodie realizing what she did. Looks like I’m not the only one embarrassing themselves at least. But seriously?!?! “a little death?!?!” I’ve never made innuendos like that?!?! I even shocked Angel for heaven’s sake?!?! Charlie then breaks the silence giggling nervously “Ahaha…ok how about this. New friend how about you just your name for now and we can go on that tour I promised earlier.”

She peeked one more time; nodding as she spoke with a voice almost like silk. “M-my name is (Y/N)….it’s nice to meet you all.” Charlie smiles at her “I love that name! It’s very pretty! It really suits you.” She approaches her and helps her off the floor “Ok everyone thank you for being apart of today’s activity today! We’ll see you all at dinner.” Everyone disarrayed from the circle and headed their own ways as I made quick haste into the shadows; transporting back into to my quarters. I start to pace the floor, running my fingers through my hair; trying to figure out why I made such a display in front of everyone no less. This was not like me at all, and I don’t understand why; which pisses me off the most!!!! Is it because I’m about to go into season?!?!? No it couldn’t be. I’ve always known how to maintain it really well. I’ve been around for a long time, and my seasons have never been an issue for me to control. Even when completely surrounded; still proved no issue. What is going on?!?! I take a deep breath and adjust my bow tie; dusting off my coat. I just need to keep my distance for a couple of weeks and maybe this will blow over when my season ends. Even if it isn’t, I’m still not taking any chances. No one will know about this…..not even her. I am the Radio Demon, feared by all and it should stay that way.

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin smut #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor smut #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #18+ post #18+ content #18+ blog #18+ only #18+ account

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sister-cna-reader · 1 year

Text

DC x DP

“Do you know anyone willing to date a ghost-touched woman over 6ft tall?”

Barbara Gordon blinked slowly at the lanky teenager who asked the question. His arms were full of astronomy books and he was leaning in close as if it was a serious question.

“It depends? I’m a librarian, not a matchmaker.” she replied, holding her hands out for the books to scan. “Why are you asking? It’s an awfully specific criteria.”

Daniel Nightingale was the name of the boy before her. Just registered in the library system a little under 3 months ago. 17 years old and with that black hair, sky blue eyes and scars on the hand partially covered by a fingerless glove- Wayne adoption bait.

“My older sister is great and all.” he said, fidgeting with his sleeves, “But I think she needs to live a little you know? She’s so.. So….” he made a compressing motion with his hands, like packing a snowball.

“Repressed?” Barbara suggested, scanning the book on the Hubble Telescope.

With a snap of his fingers he grinned. “Exactly! Now if only I could find a guy for her that is ghost-touched…” he muttered under his breath.

“What do you mean by ‘ghost- touched’?”

“Oh you know,” he mimicked the paddles of a defibrillator, “Clear!” he chuckled.

Did this lady have a heart attack? Heart problems?

“I died but it didn’t stick, so someone who is like me would be good. Then we wouldn’t have to explain the whole thing.”

“Oh, I see.” the redhead said, not understanding much at all. “Due date for the books is in one month. I’ll keep an eye out for your sister?”

Danny nodded and gathered all the books into a beat up backpack. “You can’t miss her. Long red hair, super tall, looks like she’ll either have a nervous breakdown or murder someone if you bump into her.”

Barbara could only nod in agreement to the boy as he seemed to float out of Gotham Public Library.

Jazz was ready to shove her little not-quite-dead brother into the Fenton Thermos. She was doing well at her counseling position at the University, but Danny had insisted that her newfound hours of free time should be used in romantic pursuits.

“If you had friends you hung out with I won’t pester you. But Jazz! You need to do something fun!” He had said from the kitchen counter, hair glowing and eyes like two green beacons. “Live a little! We’re already part dead! Let go!”

So she trudged her way to the Public Library. If she had to get out of the house to shut her brother up, she’d at least be an introvert about it.

Jazz put on her best pleasant face and made her way to the librarian’s desk to get registered.

The woman behind the counter was like looking into a warped mirror. Glasses, hair just a shade brighter, and eyes the wrong color looked back at her in mirrored surprise.

“Bad hair day?” the mirror image guessed, pointing at the slouchy hat and messy bun that contained the mass of copper hair that Jazz hadn’t cut in the last year.

“Uh yeah. Little brother was pestering me about going out, so I’m here for a library card.” Jazz rambled, doing her best to not play with the strap of her purse.

“I’m Barbara, and welcome to Gotham Public Library!” The woman smiled warmly.

When Jazz handed over her ID for Barbara to input the required information in the database the lady smirked. “I met your brother a few days ago actually. Tall, scrawny, likes space?”

Jazz groaned. “I’m so sorry about him.”

The librarian’s glasses were white from the monitor. “Oh don’t worry about it, I know how younger siblings are. They mean well, they’re just annoying about it.”

Card squared away, Jazz went in search of a quiet corner to read a trashy romance novel in.

Jason took his rare day off to visit the Library. He was also going to drop off a coffee for Barbara, and maybe sweet talk some info out of her.

He needed some blackmail to lord over some birds.

“Jason! How good to see you in the daylight! Oh! Coffee! Gimmie,” his favorite tech person greeted.

Coffee offering made, Jason and Barbara traded information.

“You should take a load off.” She suggested, waving him away towards the adult fiction shelves as some patrons came to check out. “See you at dinner Sunday!”

The building was warm today, rare sunlight coming through the skylights and windows, making his leather jacket too hot to wear indoors. And there was nothing else pressing on his schedule today, so why not read a bit?

Austen novel in hand, Jason made his way to his favorite reading nook. Instead of the two empty armchairs he’d push together into a lounge, there was a woman already there, firmly in the ray of sun that made her red hair look like fire.

Her long legs were stretched out, boots cluncking together in a slow rhythm as she read.

“Oh,”

Bright green eyes startled and looked at him dead in the eyes. He blinked, and they were no longer green but a calming ocean blue.

“Sorry,” she said, folding her legs back to let him pass.

“Nah, it’s okay, I kind of want to soak in some sun too. Mind sharing?” Jason offered, fully prepared to leave the tall amazon alone. But deep down he felt something warm and grow fuzzy.

“Sure,” she scooted her chair over and pulled the other closer so they both shared the spot of sun. “I’m Jazz.”

He sat down next to her and the scent of her shampoo reminded him of the herby bread that Alfred made with soup. She stretched out again and he realized that her legs were much longer then his.

“I’m Jason.”

Inside the pit barely rippled.

Her phone beeped and she opened the beat-up thing to scoff. “Danny for Ancient’s sake,” she typed something out only for another beep to immediately reply.

Jason frowned. “Danny your boyfriend?”

Blue eyes met him in an exasperated roll. “No. He's just a little brother who can’t mind his own business. Now he wants a selfie to prove ‘I’m not alone being a cave troll.’ Just a sec.”

She started to angle away to send a picture of her flipping off the phone, but Jason pulled her closer and let his arm be visible around her shoulders in the selfie. He hadn’t thought, just acted.

There was a surprising amount of muscle under that sweater.

The pit purred in pleasure and Jason wanted to melt into the floor.

Jazz giggled, her smile showing teeth that were just a little too sharp. “Oh he’ll be happy with this I think. Only thing that would be better is if you had a big black motorcycle. That’d send him through the roof.”

His breath hitched. The sun must’ve been too hot, and he felt himself grow warm under that bright smile.

“Would a black and red motorcycle do?” Was this flirting? Was he flirting? Was it working? He hoped it was working.

Those eyes lit up again and she tossed the book onto the chair, towering over him. “That’s perfect. He hates the idea of me on a motorcycle with a biker boyfriend.”

Jason stood up and tossed his jacket to Jazz with a feral smile. “Let’s get you some pictures riding a motorcycle my lady.”

The pit crowed in happiness, a rare thing when not caused by blood or murder. He made sure to get a few pictures of her on his bike with his own phone before remembering it should really be on Jazz’s phone, to send to Jazz’s brother.

Not wanting the fun time to end, he put his helmet in her hands. “I know a good burger joint. Want to stay out late? See some sights?”

He was so focused on the redhead woman in his leather jacket straddling his bike, he forgot about the other redhead with access to the security cameras.

#dp x dc prompt #anger manegment #jason todd #jasmine fenton #Jason/Jazz #danny phantom #Liminal Jazz #if I write more it'll go up on Ao3

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jinnie-ret · 7 months

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ok but imagine chans sister comes to visit the boys and gets attacked by saesangs. comfort from chan as well as his own guilt that it happened?? while the boys do their best to fix everything and make it okay? my love for angsty fics is really showing damn

cold water

stray kids x reader (platonic)

genre: angst, angst, and more angst

content warnings: saesangs, violence, drowning

word count: 3.3k

summary: when chan's sister pays the boys a visit in Seoul, during their S-CLASS mv shooting, no one could have expected the day to end the way it would.

Thank you so much for this request! I've been trying to write it for the past couple of days because this idea instantly popped into my head, I hope it fulfills the angst you've been looking for!

As always, like, reblog if you enjoyed, and my asks are open for any requests you may have. And let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I post :)

MAIN MASTERLIST

Y/N was glad to finally settle down in Seoul after her flight from Sydney. She was excited to see Bang Chan again, it had been a while as she hadn't been able to fly over with Hannah and go to their concerts, too busy with her school work. You see, Y/N always dreamed of being a director, and so when Chan had offered her to come watch them film their newest music video for their upcoming title track, S-CLASS, she couldn't deny his offer. Especially since he had promised that it would be a new experience for not just her, but for him and the rest of the boys too.

And boy was he right. If you had asked Y/N if she was going on a nighttime shoot, on a boat, in the middle of Han River, she would have laughed in your face, but her brother was big time now, and as much as she'd tease him and deny it, she was proud of Bang Chan. He even managed to get a comment along those lines from her earlier in the day.

"Y/Nnie, aren't you proud of your big bro?" Chan bounced around happily, excited for his younger sister to be staying with them, shaking her shoulders at the same time.

"Yeah, yeah," she rolled her eyes, unable to hide her growing smile as she stood in the entrance of the dorms he shared with Changbin, Han, and Hyunjin.

Speaking of, they all appeared, hearing the commotion of their leader and someone else.

"Woah, is that you, Y/N? You've grown!" Han patted her head as he greeted her.

"Not by much," she laughed, ducking away when the head pats turned into borderline hair ruffling, and no one touches her hair.

"Who knows, maybe you'll be taller than Changbinnie!" Hyunjin laughed.

"There's no way, Y/N got the small genes too, just like me and Hannah, Lucas is the only one who is tall out of us siblings," Chan sighed.

"It's so annoying. We're twins. He's got height to spare, why couldn't he give me some of it?" Y/N whined, causing Chan to laugh at her.

"Ah, join us on the dark side Y/N," Chan gestured to him and the other 2 members of 3RACHA.

"I'm in a dorm full of shorties," Hyunjin shook his head.

"Surprise, shawtyyyy," Y/N did some jazz hands, causing Han and Chan to laugh because they got the reference.

"Anyways let's drop your bags off in the spare room, then we can grab something to eat and head to the shoot, yeah?" Chan suggested as he picked up Y/N's luggage and carried it with him.

"Sounds good to me," Y/N nodded as she followed along.

Best. Dinner. Ever.

Bulgogi. Fried chicken. Kimchi. It was a proper feast. Although, the boys didn't have too much as they said they didn't want to feel bloated during the shoot, and they'd probably get some more food later. Y/N wouldn't be able to turn down that offer too, especially since her brother was paying for it all.

"So how old are you now, Y/Nnie?" Seungmin asked as she traveled with the other boys to their shoot.

"I'm 17," Y/N replied, the boys letting out noises of surprise.

"I remember when we debuted, you were only 12!" Felix gasped.

"Well, times have changed haha, it's been like 5 years, you know, you guys have been doing this for a small while now," Y/N pointed out. Of course she wasn't going to be a child forever.

"That makes me feel old," Lee Know sighs, throwing his head back against the headrest in the car.

"Well, you are the oldest one in here hyung," Jeongin patted his shoulder condescendingly.

"Yah! Our driver hyung is older than me!" Lee Know replied, turning around and staring daggers at his youngest member.

Y/N couldn't help but giggle at the interactions they had. She was glad her brother was surrounded by such good people. She knew he had found it tough before when he saw his other trainee friends debut, not fully realising how isolating that must have been until a few years ago now.

"You know, you're pretty cool, Chris," Y/N stared in awe at the boat they were about to board.

"Thanks, sis," he wrapped her in a small side hug, not teasing her this time yet still having a bashful expression on his face.

They all boarded the boat, staff, crew, members. Not realising the two suspicious hooded figures following them on and instantly hiding. In fact, Y/N thought she saw something out of the corner of her eye, jolting around so suddenly she caught the attention of Chan once more.

"You good?" he raised an eyebrow at her, looking around now also.

"Thought I saw something... it's probably nothing," Y/N brushed it off.

"It's probably jet lag," Chan guessed, and Y/N nodded along anyways. It had been a long flight over, and she was feeling her energy slowly drop. Yet that didn't stop her from eagerly trying to pick up every detail of the shoot, from the camera angles, to how many takes it took the boys on different scenes, and to other unseen aspects of the shoot.

"So let me get this right, they're going to CGI a massive octopus in?" Y/N said with wide eyes, wondering why it would be there.

"Yeah, and?" Felix shrugged.

"And Seungmin is going to dance next to it for some reason?" Y/N clasped her hands behind her back.

"So?" Han shrugged. These sorts of ideas weren't really anything out of the ordinary for them.

"That's sick!" Y/N cheered in English, making the boys jump from her sudden mood change they witnessed, thinking she was criticising what was happening at first. They now understood she was just an excitable girl.

She had been diligently taking down notes on her phone the whole time, taking photos also. The crew had been worried at first that she'd reveal spoilers for the filming, but Chan reassured them all that Y/N was a good kid and she wouldn't do anything like that.

"Hey, Chris, is there a toilet on here?" two girls crouched on a lower part of the boat heard Y/N ask her brother. Of course they recognised the girl when they snuck on earlier. They were fans before their likes turned to obsessions, so of course they knew that Y/N was Chan's sister.

"Just downstairs one and to the left," they heard Chan reply and had to hide their squeals. Maybe if they saw Y/N, they could pretend to be best friends with her and then get closer to Chan. And then, once they got closer to Chan, they could become closer with the other members too.

Delusion was a disease.

Y/N put her phone torch light on as she headed down one flight of stairs and entered the bathroom, a light flickering on instantly. She went to enter a cubicle before a bright light shined in her face and left her wincing and feeling startled.

In reality, it was the two saesang girls' best bet in getting away before they were caught. And they didn't even feel bad for what they did. It's not like they went to the extremes of using a laser.

"Ah," Y/N winced as she rubbed her eyes, but she ignored it and soon returned upstairs.

"Are you ok? You look a bit disoriented," Hyunjin checked on the younger girl as he took a break, getting his hair and clothes touched up and adjusted.

"Yeah, I'm fine, just, a bit, I don't know," Y/N didn't know what else to say. She had a bad feeling now, swearing she had heard some giggles and footsteps running away from her after she was temporarily blinded.

"Is being on the boat all too much?" Seungmin asked, feeling bad for the girl who looked dazed.

"Hey, Y/N, why don't you take a moment, yeah, I know all the cameras and lights can be a bit overwhelming," Chan came over as soon as he heard the tone difference in the voices of his group.

"Ok, I'll just be round that corner, I'm going to look out at the river," Y/N told him, receiving a satisfied nod in response as she walked off. Perhaps all she needed really was just a breather. Yes, all the set and ideas were amazing, but it was very fast paced. What happened to their song, 'My Pace'?

Y/N giggled to herself, looking out at the water before she heard people approach her from behind.

"Chris, I still need some time-"

"Ah, so you are his sister..." one of the girls, looking around 20 years old, and staring down Y/N.

"Oh, are you staff here? Sorry, Chris, umm, Chan said it was okay to come down here, but I can move if-"

"No, why don't you stay?" the other girl evily smiled.

"Well, if you're sure..." Y/N nodded and turned back towards the water, before her head was yanked back and she fell to the floor of the boat with a thud.

"Hey!" Y/N shouted, but her mouth was instantly covered.

"You're going to give us exactly what we want, isn't that right?" a harsh voice whispered into her ear with gritted teeth. But Y/N shook her head pleadingly, not wanting to be caught up in anything violent.

"Stupid!" she was slapped across the face, letting out a whimper from the pain before she was pinned to the ground.

"Listen here, you little bitch. You may think you're living the high life as Chan's sister but you've got it all wrong. Now, you're going to walk back up there with and introduce us properly to that lovely brother of yours, pretend we got lost down here, just two staff members gone missing," a girl squeezed her wrists tight as Y/N couldn't move from her position.

"Ow, shit. Get off!" Y/N struggled in their grip, feeling terrified. This is certainly not what she expected when she came to visit her brother for an innocent work experience trip.

"Do it, now," they hauled her up and pushed her back towards where everyone else was working.

"I don't have to do anything you tell me. I'll just call the police and-" Y/N bravely began as she held up her phone but it was soon knocked out of her hands, and sink into the depths of the Han River.

"Oops," a girl innocently giggled.

"Are you out of your mind?!" Y/N shouted loudly, loud enough that she would be heard by the others, particularly her older brother who was due to go down and check on her because he thought she had been taking too long.

"Some may say that," the two girls cackled maniacally amongst themselves, like it was the best inside joke in the world.

"That was my phone! It had everything on it! I need it!" Y/N shouted once more, Chan, Lee Know and Changbin's footsteps becoming more rushed now. The other two immediately joined Chan on the way when they too heard the shouting.

Y/N had a pair of hands wrapped around her throat, the other unoccupied as the owner of them smirked and simply whispered.

"Aw, you better go get it then."

In a split second, Chan and the rest of the hyung line watched as Y/N was hurled over the edge of the boat, screaming as she fell before a splash was heard.

"Y/N!!!" Chan screamed in complete and utter panic. It was dark, it was cold, and now his sister was forced to try and stay afloat in such freezing temperatures like the waters of Han River.

"Are you crazy?!" Lee Know yelled at the two girls, who were excited to see the boys, not realising the consequences of their actions.

"Y/N!!! Y/N!!! Can you hear me?!" Chan heartbreakingly yelled as he looked over the edge of the boat railings and tried to see the head of his sister pop up.

Y/N felt her airways open before she cold help it. Ice cold water, working its way through her body as it traveled to her lungs and caused her to let out muffled pleas for help, trying to swim to the surface.

"Somebody get help! Someone fell in the water!!" Changbin used his loud voice to his advantage as he signalled the emergency crew with a lifeboat to drop down into the water and try and find Y/N.

"No, no, no, I can't believe this, no..." Chan whimpered, hands clenching onto the railing so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

"Chan, it's ok, they'll find her," Felix had come up behind him, trying to calm him down even though he himself was feeling the exact same way. All of the boys were. There was anger, there was panic, there was... grief too. Nothing had been confirmed, but the what ifs flying through everyone's minds had killed the thoughts in their brains telling them that there was still a chance.

"I can't see her!!! I can't see her!!!" Chan paced, running his fingers through his hair as he cried. He cried so hard. The members couldn't remember the last time they saw their leader like this. But he was a family man, through and through. He'd do anything to protect those around him, especially those close to him.

"Get rid of these girls!" Han lead over some staff members to the two saesangs who had been stood starstruck the whole time Lee Know cussed them out, only infuriating him more.

"Y/N!" Hyunjin tried.

"Y/Nnie!" Seungmin tried.

"Y/N!" Jeongin tried.

They all tried calling her but there was no luck so far. The boat had been deployed into the river and it had bright lights reflecting off of the water, hoping to catch sight of Y/N.

"I should have protected her! I promised her!" Chan angrily pointed out towards the water, tears continuously falling as his members wrapping him in their arms comfortingly and trying to keep him calm

"Y/N! I see her! To the right! She's there!" Lee Know yelled down at the boat operators, who quickly jumped into action as they grabbed the shivering girl, trying to make sure she was breathing as they transported her onto land, where the boys on the boat were now pulling in too.

Y/N didn't remember much of what happened. Her body slowly became more and more numb, yet it carried her to the surface of the water, where she fortunately was floating on her back. She coughed and spluttered, and it seemed to let her breathe with a bit more improvement. Or maybe it was when she was wrapped in a foil blanket, hearing shouts of her name and feeling the rocking of a boat as she was moved somewhere.

The ground felt flat. But she couldn't mistake the warmth of her brother, even in her haziness.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry this happened to you, my Y/Nnie. I won't let anyone come near you ever again, I'll protect you. Chris is sorry, Y/N," Chan cried as he held his sister tightly against him, wrapping the blanket tighter around her and not caring about the discomfort he felt from sitting down in his tight leather trousers. Tears rolled down his cheeks, the other members gathered around and looking shaken up too, hands over there mouth or a supportive hand on Chan's shoulder.

"Please, can we pause the filming? I need to make sure she's ok," Chan pleaded with the staff, who immediately and wordlessly nodded at him, feeling incredibly upset themselves at what had happened. They had seen the brightness in the girl's eyes, when she asked them questions about how things worked and why they did them.

"We're all here for you, hyung," Changbin kneeled down next to Bang Chan and wrapped an arm around his shoulder at the same time. He knew how tough Chan could be on himself, and this was going to eat him up for weeks, maybe even years.

Y/N coughed, becoming aware of her surroundings and momentarily thrashing around before a gentle voice calmed her in an instant.

"Y/N, I've got you love, I've got you yeah, you're ok, you're alive," Chan tried not to let his voice break as he squeezed her tighter in his arms.

"The, girls, pushed, couldn't breathe," Y/N spluttered, her words coming out jumbled as flashes of the situation that just happened flushed through her mind.

"Sssh, sssh, I know, I know, but you're safe now, yeah?" Chan did his best to reassure her and stop her mind from going into overdrive, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Sir, we should really call get her to a hospital, she may have secondary drowning. We can't risk anything."

Within a heartbeat Chan was nodding, medics coming over as she was lifted into the back of an ambulance, and now, instead of Y/N, he was the one who was frozen.

"Hyung, come on, you need to go with her, we'll follow behind," Felix ushered him to stand.

"She... she nearly..." Chan spoke in disbelief, not wanting to finish his sentence as reality hit him hard like a truck.

"But she didn't," Lee Know said firmly, "go with her," he pushed him towards the ambulance.

Chan sat numbly in the ambulance, hand holding his little sister's, the youngest Bahng. What would his parents say? He had failed them, failed Y/N, failed his duty as an older brother. He was so lost in his thoughts he didn't even realise they had arrived at the hospital, and Y/N seemed to be more with it than before as she was being carted out the back of the ambulance.

"No, wait, Chan, I want my brother," Y/N whimpered as he went out of her sight, trying to tell the paramedics that she needed him. The other members had arrived too but she needed only one person with her.

"Hyung, we're here now, she needs you," Jeongin drags his oldest hyung out of the ambulance towards Y/N.

Chan stayed with her until she was discharged. He had no second thoughts to any news articles that would be dispatched, or what the company would say. All that was running through his mind was family, family, family.

"Chris?" Y/N weakly said from her bed. Well, it wasn't her bed technically. It was the one that belonged to the spare room in the dorms. She laid there wondering why this had to happen to her. If it wasn't for those saesangs...

"What is it? You need something to eat? Are you in pain?" Chan fussed over her.

"It's not your fault," Y/N whispered. Her quiet words shattered something in Chan's heart.

"Don't," he shook his head.

"I know that look, Chris, just don't blame yourself. It was those girls. You didn't push me into the river," Y/N spoke quietly, trying to make eye contact with her brother but he couldn't even look her in the eyes.

"Don't talk about it!"

"Look at me!" Y/N shouted, putting all her effort into using her voice and causing her to start coughing.

This made Chan go into high alert as he sat her up and patted her back instantly, like it was habit, just as he would have done when he first held her at the age of ten.

"I need you, Chris, please don't get lost in your own head, I need you here with me," Y/N teared up, and Chan knew that she didn't mean physically being there. This was a whole other matter.

"I'm sorry, it's okay, Y/Nnie, I'm here," Chan hugged her tightly, feeling her relax.

"I can't stop thinking about it," Y/N cried, shoulders shaking.

"This should have never happened to you," Chan wiped her tears gently.

"I promise you, you will never come to any harm again, ok? Me and the boys, we'll help you recover, we'll take care of you. No one will ever hurt you again, Y/Nnie, I swear."

tagged: @skz-streamer @oo-li

#skz #stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz angst #skz fluff #skz x reader #straykids imagines #skz fic #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids angst #stray kids sister #skz sister #skz imagines #stray kids fic #straykids angst

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tokoumaru · 1 year

Text

❤︎ genshin impact boys as highschool love interests!

feat. xiao, childe, itto tags. headcanons, imagines, fluff, slight angst, yandere themes, modern au, afab! reader warnings. childe’s part contains yandere themes, xiao’s contains sa (not by him), and itto’s contain minor mentions of gangs, if you have trouble reading these types of tropes, please feel free to skip

❤︎ childe/tartaglia (yandere childhood friend)

in your younger years, you vaguely recalled being best friends with this cute girl with ginger hair. ever since you bravely saved her from an onslaught of bullies during kindergarten, she’s been stuck to you like glue. wherever you went, her short stature would follow and both of you would always play in the riverside next to the neighbourhoods... her name was something along the lines of jazz..? ajax?

when you had to move, tears were running down her sweet cheeks as she begged you to stay. to your surprise, she even poked a hole in your car’s tire just to stop you... though the adults dismissed it as child’s play, there was an unsettling feeling in your stomach. the last sight you saw of her was when she was resolutely looking at your leaving car with a glint no normal 6-year-old could make.

now that you’re 17, moving to teyvat high was quite hard for you. everyone had their own set of friends by now... it was quite lonely most of the time. from your little corner of the classroom, you’ve always heard the girls talk about this guy... childe, right? they always went on and on about how cool and attractive and athletic he was... regular girl talk, you guessed.

murmurs and talks of him only increased during your school’s sports fest, almost everyone was talking about him competing in the most awaited basketball tournament!

curious, you watched along the sidelines of the game. though, suddenly everyone's cheers had gotten louder and you just needed to know why.

a mop of familiar ginger hair swiftly passed by your view, dunking the basketball straight into the hoop as the crowd goes wild!

suddenly, the tall ginger’s ocean eyes landed in your direction... ah, so ajax wasn’t a girl after all. the short girl that clung onto you was long gone, now replaced with a tall boy carrying a lean body, his voice octaves deeper than your own and his world leagues away.

the next few days, you were left to wonder if he recognized you... he couldn’t, right? he had other things to worry about... such as the number of love letters he receives every day in his shoe locker.

“y/n! is that really you...? I missed you so so so much!”

as usual, you were simply passing through the hallways until ajax trapped you in between his arms and lifted you up, gripping you so tight that you had to use all your force to break free from his hold.

“is it because you don’t remember me?”

from the moment you broke free from his arms, he deflated, a pout on his handsome face. at the sight, you couldn’t help but refute him immediately in a panic.

“so you truly do remember me! that makes things easier for me, darling.”

caught off guard, you didn’t realize ajax pulled you closer to him, encasing his lean arms around your waist. then, his lips were suddenly on your lips, his calloused hand caressing your cheek... all for the entire student body to see.

the next few days were hellish, to say the least. somehow every female in teyvat high hated your guts, even going as far as to ostracize you from the rest of the student body.

you didn’t know why all these girls were being so hostile, from stealing your athletic wear to writing disgusting names on your table... all you could do was turn to your childhood friend in times like these.

whenever a girl would pour water over you or trip you on purpose, you would immediately run to ajax and vent everything.

“shh... it’s okay y/n, they’re just being petty because they know that they’ll never hold my attention like you do.”

when the bullying got really bad, you would rush to the rooftop holding back your tears. only letting everything out as ajax held you to his chest, stroking your hair while your tears soaked his school uniform.

one day, the girls who bullied you were especially ticked off. they claimed that you were seducing childe, shoving various pictures of him and you on the rooftop to your face.

no matter how much you protested, the girls only ignored you and roughly pulled you towards an abandoned store room at the back of the school. there was nothing you could do against the group, all you could muster up was bang against the door as they took your phone and locked you in the dark.

you screamed for help, you called your teacher’s names, your parent’s names, and even ajax’s name numerous times in desperation. the tears dried on your cheeks as your voice went hoarse... you didn’t know how long you were in there. the darkness was all you could see.

“y/n! are you in there?!”

ajax’s voice was like a glowing light amidst all that’s happened to you. you cried out his name and begged him to save you.

“don’t worry, darling... I’ve got you now.”

he burst the rusty door open and immediately rushed to your shaking body in the corner of the room. desperate for someone to cling on to, you immediately pulled ajax in and buried your head in his neck, his boyish scent comforting you.

“I love you, Y/N... and only I can love you...”

your mind was in a frenzy and you couldn’t register the words ajax had uttered, only choosing to cling to his warm embrace further and bask in the sweet comfort his kisses gave you.

as ajax’s ginger locks intertwined with yours as he buried his face in your hair, a smirk slowly graced his lips while he kissed the top of your head.

while your childhood friend mumbled sweet nothings into your ear, you slowly fell asleep in his lean arms, too tired to be able to think straight.

“it’s my turn to be your saving grace, Y/N.”

you failed to remember that you had always locked the rooftop door after entering... and that the only possible culprit left would be your one and only childhood friend.

❤︎ xiao (stoic seatmate)

being new to teyvat high, you were left to sit alone at the back of the class, though you were thankful for the window seat... somehow, your only seatmate ended up being a student named xiao alatus.

he was... quiet, to say the least. all your classmates feared him to death, you probably guessed it was because of the stoic stone-face he carried and the deathly aura around him; pair that with the numerous piercings that lined his ear and the somewhat natural red eyeliner that rimmed along his eyes, you understood with everyone walked on eggshells around him.

you were the same at first as well, never really looking in his direction or even trying to talk to him. well, that was until you were paired up for a group task by your teacher. truthfully, you were terrified, you didn’t even know how to look at him! somehow, both of you agreed to work on the task at a nearby café, a halfway point between both of your places.

up until the moment, you dreaded having to meet with xiao, even thinking of bailing on him with some flimsy excuse and doing everything without his help... though you weren’t too keen on doing this to someone who hasn’t done anything wrong.

you arrived at the café a bit early, so you decided to order some drinks in advance. you were simply thinking of what to get while queuing at the cashier until some guy started slipping his hands up your skirt.

you froze, not knowing what to do at all. a disgusting feeling settled in your stomach as your hands clammed up in fear. the perpetrator behind you was both bigger and stronger than you... you didn’t think you could even make a scratch on him.

“that’s enough, what do you think you’re doing to her?”

in the blink of an eye, the pervert’s hand left your underskirt and was suddenly in xiao’s deathly grip. xiao immediately placed himself in between you and the perpetrator, successfully blocking him from your view.

“people like you are despicable. leave, now.”

with one last glare, xiao pushed him out of the line with ease and turned to you with his arms crossed. although his face was rigid and his golden eyes were pointed in a glare, you could’ve sworn there was a hint of worry inside them.

“...call me next time.”

ever since that day, you’ve looked at your seatmate in a different light... literally. you mustered up the courage to look xiao’s way for once, and it just so happens that he was looking your way too.

upon the immediate eye contact, he immediately turned his head back to the board, the tip of his ears turning red... you truly wondered why you were so scared of him at all.

now, suddenly all you did was talk to xiao in classes. not out loud of course, but through the little scribbles you both shared in your notebooks. sitting at the back of the class and right next to each other gave you both the advantage of everyone caring less about you two... it was you and xiao’s little corner of the world almost.

the mini-conversations between you two that happened in the corners of your notebook would never fail to make you laugh once you read them again... the contrast between your cursive letters with xiao’s rigid edges were always such a sight to see.

soon, the two of you found yourself holding study sessions at the same café you met for your first project. almost every day after school, the two of you would walk together to the nearby café and sit on the tables at the very corner of the room.

“i’ll sit next to you… it’s safer.”

xiao insisted to stay by your side at all times, even going as far as to wait for you outside the restroom.

no matter how much you insisted that you would be fine, and that your perpetrator had probably been banned at the cafe already, your seatmate still wouldn’t budge.

“I simply wish for your safety, please just ignore me.”

you sighed in surrender as you heard xiao stubbornly insist, although you couldn’t deny the flutter of your heart as he scooted a bit closer to you after you two sat down next to each other

since the tables at the cafe were a bit too small for two people on the same side, your hand and his calloused ones would often brush against each other each time you tried to grab something… you tried your best to ignore the way xiao’s face would turn red every time.

though, on one occasion xiao just resorted to roughly grabbing your hand and intertwining them together.

“… its easier like this.”

...you didn’t have the courage to let go

no words were exchanged between you two the rest of the time, but when you had gotten home, a badly written “I like you.” had been written on the top half of your notebook with badly drawn hearts and flowers...

❤︎ arataki itto (obnoxious delinquent)

every time you would walk home from school, you would pass by the notorious ‘arataki gang,’ which became unpopular for their supposed mischievousness. the gang was led by arataki itto, a very tall and muscular man, strong enough to tower over even your teachers.

numerous egregious rumours surrounded the guy, some students said he was part of the yakuza because of those reddish tattoos he bore, others said he bullied kids and took their cash just to buy some cigarettes with his gang... you couldn’t help but think he was someone you shouldn’t ever cross paths with.

that was until you were suddenly face-to-face with the guy, seemingly having no way of escape.

you were simply on your way back to your class from the cafeteria when you caught sight of a cute little cat in the school’s garden. seeing as there was a bit more time till your break had ended, you sneakily followed the cat until it stopped right at the back of the empty gymnasium.

if you hadn’t been there from the start, you’d think that these guys were torturing the cute kitty cat... but it seems that they were just very aggressive when it came to expressing their love for the animal. after all, they were feeding the cat their entire lunchboxes, and much to the cat’s enjoyment, were spinning it around in glee.

“hey, are you spying on us or somethin’?! don’t think i didn’t notice you from back there, punk!”

you were startled out of the little bush you were hiding in and immediately apologized profusely to the whitehead in front of you, whose red eyes looked at you almost accusingly.

“well, why didn’t you say so! if you wanted to help us take care of little old nimble ninja over here then you shoulda just asked!”

after letting out a rambunctious laugh, he roughly pulled you in for a handshake, welcoming you to his supposed gang, stating himself as the ‘head honcho’ and introducing all 3 of his ‘underlings’ as well... you surmised that perhaps everyone had gotten the arataki gang all wrong.

you had to say, the next few weeks were very eventful, to say the least. you spent your entire breaks hanging out (against your will on some occasions) with the infamous arataki gang. all your classmates asked if you were being bullied, or if you were a delinquent as well... you didn’t have the heart to tell them that you and itto were simply feeding a school stray he named ‘nimble ninja’

contrary to popular belief, itto did none of the things he was rumoured to be doing. those red ‘tattoos’ he adorned? actually, he just said he wanted to look cool, like one of those metal bands on tv! when you asked if he was part of the yakuza, he screeched like a little girl and hugged you in his arms, desperately telling you to never utter the word again or else both of you would be ‘assassinated’ and, when you mentioned the circling rumours about him and his gang’s deeds, itto burst into tears, clinging on to you and telling you that he would never do such a thing... and you believed him, because this giant softie couldn’t even kill a fly that flew around you two as he wept.

at one point, you didn’t even think itto was capable of violence... but not even itto could stay pacifistic in the face of a clear threat.

one lunch on your way to you and itto’s usual meeting place, you had seen a bunch of students poking fun at nimble ninja, throwing insults and hurling a few pebbles at her.

seeing the little cat cower in fear, you immediately rushed in to save her, not even thinking twice about getting hit yourself. unfortunately, the delinquent’s attention went from the cat to you, and now it seemed you didn’t have the chance to escape.

slowly, the leader of the group slowly backed you into a corner, threatening you and your cat. you tried your best to resist, but there was nothing you could do being surrounded by delinquents stronger than you.

“just whaddya think you’re doing to her?”

a threateningly low voice interrupted the tension in the air. you could tell that the gang members were terrified of itto’s tall and intimidating stature. right now, itto’s long hair was tied up, his sleeves were folded, and his crimson eyes were looking directly at the leader who cornered you.

“don’t even think about getting even an inch near her... i’ll give you 3 seconds to scram, boys.”

you could tell the leader was a bit hesitant to leave, but as soon as all his underlings fled, he made a run for it.

feeling the adrenaline wear off, you sunk to the hard ground, still carefully holding nimble ninja in your arms.

“hey, are you? did those guys do anything to hurt you?!”

itto immediately rushed over to your side, careful not to touch you in case you were injured. though, when you had said you were alright. the muscular man immediately let out a large sigh and hugged you and nimble ninja tight in his arms.

“that scared the hell out of me... hehe, I didn’t know what to do if they actually tried to fight me y’know”

he laid his chin on top of your head, still holding you tight. you could feel his hands shaking, probably from fear... you had to hold in your laugh. if he was so scared, why did he put up such a front?

“I just couldn’t let you, an honored member of the arataki gang, get bullied like that! I'm your boss, I should be especially reliable!”

itto pulled back and faced you, his crimson eyes in front of yours. your noses were almost touching with the proximity.

“but... it’s probably because I like you as well, I hope you know that.”

a/n. I hate this LOL though I hope you guys enjoyed at least a little

#✧.* genshin #childe imagines #childe x reader #yandere genshin #yandere childe #genshin modern au #xiao x reader #xiao imagines #xiao fluff #itto x reader #itto imagines #itto fluff #genshin x reader #genshin imagines

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little-pondhead · 6 months

Text

Clockwork sneezed.

Then he paused. He never sneezes. He’s a ghost; ghosts don’t get sick. Not since he locked up the last Ghost Virus in his vaults. Why did he sneeze?

He sneezed again. Oh no, was that a headache coming on? His eyes felt tired and his skin was itchy. Was that a tickle in his throat?? Were those spots on his arm?? Shit, time to go check on his vaults to make sure nothing escaped. All hell would break loose if there was a ghost epidemic again.

Clockwork turns to leave the room, and in his haste, his scepter taps the very edge of a tall and thin grandfather clock he’d just been working on. The clock was made from a red-stained cottonwood he’d procured from the heart of Kansas many years ago, and it was gilded in delicate gold that shone with age and looked well-loved. Despite its height, the clock was a strong one, and didn’t tip over when the Ghost of Time bumped it.

It did, however, shift a few of the loose cogwheels inside. A few of them dropped out of the clock, and one even fell to the floor and rolled away. The ones that stayed inside rattled ominously for a moment before settling into their new spots. The clock kept ticking, but the time was off now. It skipped a few seconds, just enough for a listener to notice, before suddenly reversing the hour and minute hands.

Too bad there was nobody nearby to pay attention to the now-broken clock.

—

Danny was a strange boy. He knew that. Everyone in Amity knew that. Even his mentor, Clockwork, called him strange every once in a while. He liked being strange. It was fun being unpredictable. Having a Time Medallion stuck in his chest certainly helped in his shenanigans, since it meant he was technically separate from the time streams. He had pulled off more than one prank on his pseudo-grandfather by using this to his advantage.

Sometimes, however, Danny’s freedom from the time stream caused him more trouble than he thought it was worth. Like right now, for example.

He was simply at home, battling dinner with his sister while his parents were making a batch of fudge. Suddenly, Danny felt the time stream shift and writhe in a way he’d never felt before. He shivered and sneezed, thinking nothing of it. Clockwork made tiny adjustments all the time, there was nothing to worry about.

Except there was. When he opened his eyes, there was now a baby in his house.

One minute it was just him and Jazz at the table, the next, a baby in a red high chair was giggling and clapping along with Jazz as she tried to cut up the double-dead hotdogs into smaller bits for the child to eat.

The baby wasn’t a ghost, Danny knew. But when he looked around, evidence of a baby living in the Fenton house laid everywhere. The rocking chair in the living room now had a side table with two empty bottles on it. Pictures hanging in the hall had been changed to include the child. Toys were scattered around every corner, just waiting to be stepped on. Neither Jazz nor his parents had blinked at the sudden change.

In fact, Danny discovered, everyone in Amity Park seemed to think that this baby had always been with them. Even his best friends and rogues didn’t bat an eye! Danny was now a middle child, while everything else stayed the same.

But Danny knew. He knew something was wrong. This baby didn’t belong here.

He had to talk to Clockwork. He had to find out who this child was.

The child named Clark K. Fenton.

#DPxDC #pondhead blurbs #okay stay with me here #clockwork was adjusting Superman’s clock and bumped it #this messed up the timeline #so baby Clark ended up with the Fentons in Illinois instead of with the Kents in Kansas #Danny: who the fuck is this child #Sam and Tucker: >:0!!! don’t talk about your baby brother that way!!!#oh and the K in Clark’s middle name is literally just the letter K #it does not stand for anything in this timeline

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aflame4goinghome · 2 months

Text

Illicit Affairs

d.r.w x reader

chapter i

Summary: There’s no harm in having a one-night stand with a captivating musician at a jazz club the weekend before the fall semester, right? Usually that would be the case, but this time, it was very different. After finding out what he does for a living, your entire world is turned upside down, sending you head first into a relationship that even you might not be able to handle. Good luck.

Word Count: 7.3k

Warnings: THIS STORY CONTAINS SMUT, MINORS DNI!!! alcohol, swearing, flirting, SMUT: fingering, touching, sexually-implicit language, oral sex (m. & f. receiving), unprotected sex, hairpulling, semi-public sex, praise kink if you squint, hint of dom/sub dynamic

A/N: This story is in collaboration with my wonderful, talented friends @gretavanstink & @childinthegardenn!! Go give them a follow and give @gretavanstink’s fics some love! We’re so excited to share this journey with you all, we can’t wait for you to find out what’s next. Enjoy! Love ya!

Listen to the official playlist on Spotify here!

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“Is this it here?” you ask, looking over at Rose in your passenger seat as you slow down in front of the apartment building. She looks down at her phone to check the GPS then nods her head.

“Looks like it… I think I see a spot there in the front,” she answers. You quickly pull into the parking spot and then put the car in park. “Here we are!” you say, smiling at Rose before turning the car off, opening your door, and stepping out onto the street.

The neighborhood seemed quiet and calm, for it being so close to downtown Detroit. You feel pleasantly surprised as you take a look around. You walk around to the trunk of your car, pressing down the button and lifting the hatch. Your apartment came mostly furnished, so you and Rose luckily didn’t have to bring much besides your clothes and general necessities.

You’ve known your best friend Rose since the two of you were 11 years old, when your elementary schools merged to become one big middle school. You were placed in the same homeroom and you became fast friends, having a lot in common. You’ve been inseparable ever since, leaving your small town in northern Michigan to move to Detroit for college together.

Going into your third year at Wayne State University in midtown Detroit, you both found an apartment together off campus. The first day of class is in two days, giving you some time to get settled in at your new place before getting thrown into the busyness of the semester.

Grabbing your suitcases, you and Rose head up into your new apartment. You buzz the front door to the lobby, head inside, and gather your keys from the leasing office before taking the elevator up to the sixth floor. With an ecstatic smile on your face, you finally turn the key to open the front door and walk inside.

It’s a modest place, not too big or too small. There’s a large window in the living area, giving you a view of the rest of the neighborhood, since you were on the sixth floor. There are two bedrooms, a shared bathroom, and an in-unit washer/dryer, which you’re eternally grateful for. This was the most room you’ve ever had to yourself since you spent your first two years of university living on campus in the dorms.

The two of you take a short look around the apartment together before going back downstairs to grab the rest of your things, then branch off into your own bedrooms to begin unpacking. The room already had a full-sized bed, a desk, and a tall dresser. There was a lot of closet space as well, which is a rare find in the city.

You start by first unpacking your trusty record player, which you bring everywhere you go. Gifted to you by your grandfather for your 16th birthday, you’ve had it in your bedroom and have been adding to your collection ever since. You set it up on the top of your dresser, connect the speakers, and then plug it into the outlet below. You then uncover your record crate and pull out your favorite album of the month: The Queen Is Dead by the Smiths. You carefully remove the record from its protective sleeve, place it on the turntable, bring the needle to the edge of the record, and put it down.

As the music begins to play softly through the speakers, you turn around to open up your suitcase and start unpacking your clothes. You spend about half an hour putting your clothes away in the drawers and hanging some items up in the closet. Then, you go to make your bed, breaking out the new sheets and comforter set you just bought. After making the bed, you attach a handful of small adhesive hooks along the top of the wall behind your bed and hang a strand of lights to add some warm lighting to your space.

Finally, you pick up your box full of books and bring it to the living room. The apartment came with a large wooden bookcase along one of the side walls, across from the couch and next to the cabinet that the TV rests on. You struggle to carry the box, practically slamming it onto the coffee table when you finally reach the living room.

Admittedly, you brought way too many books with you— that box felt like it weighed at least 50 pounds. But as a philosophy major, reading is pretty much all you do. Despite that, it’s just a hobby that you particularly enjoy. You start by taking out all of your philosophy books and placing them on the middle shelf– Plato’s The Republic, Epictetus’ Discourses, Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations, and many more. Then, on the top shelf, some of your favorite reads– your Shakespeare Complete Collection, The Iliad, The Odyssey, The Great Gatsby, Little Women, Jane Eyre. You left the bottom shelf for whatever Rose might want to add, but you know that it will likely end up full of trinkets rather than books.

As you finish straightening up the living room, Rose walks out and sits down on the couch. “Ugh, moving sucks,” she laments, throwing her head back with a groan. You sit down next to her, throwing your arm around her and putting your head down on her shoulder.

“I know, right? At least we’re all finished now, though,” you say.

“I’m hungry,” she says, “Wanna go get some pizza?” Your lips quickly turn up into a smile.

“Is that even a question you have to ask?” you reply, standing up from the couch and offering her your hand to help her up. You both retreat to your separate rooms to get ready to go out before going to eat.

Detroit in the summer can sometimes be brutal in the daytime, but at night, it can get pretty cold. You decide on a black cropped v-neck top and throw on a flannel just in case you get cold, pairing it with a pair of ripped denim jeans and your Converse. You take the top half of your hair and pull it back, leaving some strands out in the front. You decide to put on a bit of base makeup, but nothing too detailed.

· · ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── · ·

The two of you agree to go to your favorite pizza place downtown to eat dinner, so you grab your car keys and head out the door. It’s only about a ten-minute drive, so you get there rather quickly. The sun is setting now since it’s a bit past 8 p.m., and the view as you drive toward the Detroit River is like no other. You finally arrive at the restaurant and sit down to eat, feeling practically starving at this point. This really was your absolute favorite restaurant in the city. To you, there was nothing quite like Detroit-style pizza. It felt like home to you, and was exactly the comfort meal you needed right now.

After a delicious and much-needed meal, you and Rose exit the pizza place, turning the corner and walking toward where you parked the car. It’s dark outside now, and as you walk to your car, you’re nearly blinded by the lights of what seems to be a neon sign. It read “Cliff Bell’s” and there was a standing sign on the ground that said “Runway Blues Combo, August 24th, 9-11:30 p.m.” You can hear the distant sound of a saxophone and other instruments from inside, filling you with a warm, fuzzy feeling. You check your watch, which reads 9:25 p.m.

“Come on, we have to go in!” you exclaim, pulling Rose by the arm to enter the bar. You show the bouncer your IDs then head over to the bar, waiting in the large crowd to order a drink. You look over at the band on the stage at the back of the bar, somewhat recognizing the song they were playing– Basie, you think. The bartender finally turns to you and asks for your order, so you order a vodka cranberry, wait for Rose to get her drink, and then you both go toward the stage to see and hear the band better without the big crowd.

As you get closer to the stage, your eyes immediately fall on the drummer. At first, it’s the audacity to wear sunglasses inside that draws your attention– rose-tinted lenses with a gold frame. Then, you admire his shoulder-length, dark curls, bouncing along to the rhythm of the song. Finally, you notice the way the muscles in his forearms contract as he plays, his veins tightening as he hits the snare drum during a particular drum fill. He was wearing a white button-down shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to sit right above his elbow, showing just enough of his arms to leave you wanting more. He has most of the buttons undone, only leaving a few buttoned at the bottom, accentuating the dark hair on his chest.

For most of the set, his eyes are often closed– he seems to be concentrated on the music, like he’s feeling it flow through him and letting his soul take control. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t intrigue you, he’s ridiculously attractive and seems to be incredibly talented. At one point during the set, though, his eyes open and seem to be drawn right to you. You convince yourself that the eye contact was just a coincidence and that he was just finding a spot in the room to lock his eyes on, but when he suddenly gives a distinct wink in your direction, you know that it wasn’t just a coincidence. He saw you.

You try your best to fight off the blush that is starting to populate your cheeks, not wanting to show how much it affected you. Luckily, the room is darkly lit and crowded, so you hope that it will go unnoticed. You can’t deny the butterflies in your stomach, and how good it felt to know that his eyes were on you.

You excuse yourself, leaving Rose up front to save your spot as you go to get yourself another drink. Rose agreed to drive home, not feeling like drinking much tonight, so you decide to allow yourself to have some more to drink. After the bartender hands you your drink, you decide to stay there to finish it, hoping to get another soon after to add to your buzz and hopefully quell the nervous feelings you had inside over this mysterious drummer.

You’ve only had about half of your next drink when you hear someone on stage say that the band is going to take a brief intermission. Soon after, you’re taking a sip of your drink and suddenly feel a tall presence to your right at the bar. You look over to see that it’s none other than the band’s drummer. When he catches your eye, he smiles at you for a moment before turning back to the bartender.

“Hey, man. Can I get an old fashioned?” he asks, then looks back over to you. He looks down at your near-empty glass, then back up to meet your eyes as he says, “And another of whatever she’s having.” He flashes you another smile as he sees the shade of pink start to cover your cheeks, sitting down on the stool next to you. The bartender hands you both your drinks and then walks off to help other customers.

“Saw you there in the front. Did you enjoy the set?” he asks as he removes his sunglasses, places them on the bar, then takes a sip of his drink.

“Oh, it was great! It’s been a while since I’ve heard live jazz, you guys are phenomenal,” you answer, smiling shyly as you take a sip of your drink, looking up at him next to you. Now that you were up close and personal with him, you couldn’t help but notice how tall he was– at least two heads taller than you were, you thought. And a little older than you had placed him when you saw him on stage. From far away you had guessed maybe his early to mid-twenties, but up close you wagered closer to thirty.

“Glad to hear that. What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asks, leaning his arm on the bar as he turns his body toward you. “Y/N,” you answer, blushing slightly at the nickname.

“Y/N. Beautiful,” he says, his lips turning upward into a small smile. “Daniel.” He takes your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips, and places a soft kiss on the back of your hand.

“It’s not often that we see gorgeous girls like you in here, Y/N…” he says, leaning down a bit to talk directly into your ear. You assume that it’s due to the volume of the room, but then he takes you by surprise. “It’s even less often that I see a gorgeous girl undress me with her eyes while I’m on stage, like you just did back there.” You gulp quietly, completely taken aback by his direct words. He wasn’t wrong, you were attracted to him and certainly made no effort to hide it.

“Oh, I-” you start, but end up trailing off before he interrupts.

“Did you think you got away with it?” Daniel asks, smirking as his right hand reaches over to trail his fingers along your forearm, which is resting on the bar. His lips are practically touching your ear now, sending a shiver down your spine. “I noticed… Been thinkin’ about you ever since.”

“I’ve been thinking about you, too,” you say, in almost a whisper, so much so that it was quite possible that he couldn’t hear it, but he did. You allow your hand to ghost softly along his wrist. Your fingers find the thin gold chain around his wrist as you look up to meet his gaze, his face is so close now that your noses are practically touching.

“Yeah?” he says. You take a deep breath, looking up at him as you watch him lick his lips. “Tell me what you were thinkin’ about…” You could already feel your arousal start to pool between your legs, the anticipation making it feel like your heart could stop at any moment. You swallow hard as you try to answer him.

“I was thinking about how strong your arms looked,” you answer, trying to feign confidence despite how intimidating his aura felt. “Watching you play the drums and seeing your muscles flexing like that through your shirt… It was really hot.” He smirks, clearly pleased by your answer, and lowers his lips to your ear once again. You can feel his breath on your ear as he continues.

“Was it?” he asks teasingly. You feel his lips finally connect with your skin as he places a soft, lingering kiss on your neck, right below your ear. “Tell me what else.” Your breath hitches as his lips descend slowly down your neck.

“I thought about what the rest of you might look like under that shirt,” you say, leaning your head back slightly as he sucks right on the sensitive part of your neck.

“All you had to do was ask, baby…” he says, kissing his way back up to your ear.

“What were you thinking about?” you ask, your confidence starting to shine through. He smiles as he whispers into your ear.

“Thought about how good your tits look in that tight shirt,” he says as he wraps his arms around your back, holding you close. “Thought about how I wanted you to only look at me and no one else…” He sucks at the skin below your ear, causing you to let out a quiet whimper only he can hear.

“I’m only looking at you, Daniel,” you say, turning to look at him. His lips turn upward into a wicked smile.

“You wanna go somewhere a bit quieter, baby?” he whispers, softly brushing his nose against yours, moving his lips even closer. Your breath feels like it’s been taken out of your chest, but you don’t have time to waste. You quickly nod and he takes your hand in his, guiding you toward the back hallway that leads backstage.

Once you round the corner of the hallway and are out of sight from the rest of the bar, Daniel stops you, pushing your back against the wall as his lips race to meet yours. He captures your lips in his as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. His kiss is hurried and rough, something that you weren’t used to but definitely welcomed. The feeling of his body against yours was already making you lightheaded, and the alcohol in your system certainly wasn’t helping matters.

Keeping his lips on yours, he pulls your back off the wall, walking over to the one-stall bathroom only a few feet away. He removes one of his hands from you to quickly open the door, taking you both past it and letting it close behind him.

He backs you against the sink and your ass hits the hard porcelain, causing you to wince and drop your purse on the floor. He takes his lips off of you for a moment and says, “The lock on this door doesn’t work.” His lips travel along your jawline and then down your neck. He continues, “But I bet you don’t care about that, do you, sweetheart?”

“I-” you begin but are quickly cut off as he pulls your v-neck to the side, his teeth dragging against the skin over your collarbone. A gasp escapes you and you tangle your fingers in his curls, every touch of his lips to your skin sending electricity shooting through you.

“In fact, I’m sure you don’t,” he says against your skin, his breath warm and tinged with whiskey. His fingers slip under the strap of your bra, lifting the elastic up and letting it snap back against your skin. He flicks his gaze up to meet yours, finding you staring at him wide eyed, and he smirks as he tugs your bra down, lips dropping back down to suck an already deepening purple mark just below where your shirt lays.

You’re grateful for the sink behind you, holding up your body, as you feel how weak your knees are. You feel like a fawn who has found herself face to face with a hunter in the woods and every word he utters, every touch he places on you, adds to the growing arousal between your legs. You don’t find yourself speechless often, but now is one of those times.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Daniel asks, noticing how your knees wobbled just slightly, and lifts his head to look at you again, his hips pinning you firmly to the sink. You can feel him, long and hard, against your abdomen, the thought sending tingles through your body.

“Maybe you need a rest,” he smirks, stepping back from you and leaning against the wall next to the door. “On your knees.”

Your hands grip the sides of the sink as you stare at him with wide eyes, hesitating to let go for fear that your legs would give out from under you. Slowly, you lower yourself to the ground in front of him, letting your hands rest in your lap and looking up at him through your eyelashes.

Daniel looks down at you intensely, his gaze feeling like fire, and brings his hand down to your face. He drags his thumb over your cheekbone, down the side of your face, along your jaw, and finally stops at your lips. Placing his thumb on your bottom lip, he gently pulls down, tilting his chin up slightly and looking down his nose at you.

“Open,” he growls, waiting a moment for you to do as he says. You swallow thickly, your mouth suddenly dry, and let your mouth fall open, much to Daniel’s pleasure. “Good girl.”

His thumb moves from your bottom lip to your tongue and you close your lips around it, your tongue swirling around it. He hums, pleased, and pulls his thumb from your mouth with a pop.

“Eager, are we?” Daniel teases, his hands working to undo his belt. He leaves it in his belt loops, the buckle hanging undone, and unbuttons his dress slacks. You watch as he drags his zipper down, now able to see his cock straining against the fabric of his black boxer briefs, and pushes his pants and underwear down enough to free himself. Your eyes widen slightly at the sight of him as your gaze travels from the dark, well-groomed patch of hair above his base, down his length to his tip.

“Fuck,” you whisper, barely audible, as your gaze returns to meet Daniel’s. He strokes himself a few times, smirking down at you. With his free hand, he reaches down and runs his thumb across your lower lip once more.

“You seem to know what to do, sweetheart,” Daniel says as you open for him again, sticking your tongue out flat. He nods approvingly and lowers his cock, dragging his tip along your tongue before he pushes himself into your mouth. A low groan rumbles from his chest as you close your lips around him. “Just like fucking velvet.”

He gathers your hair into a ponytail and allows you to set your own pace as he watches his cock slide past your lips. You take him all the way in, widening the back of your throat so you don’t gag, and pause when your lips reach his base. Flicking your eyes up, you find Daniel staring down at you slack-jawed, his pupils blending into his irises seamlessly. You slowly start to draw your head back, the tip of your tongue following the path of the vein that runs the length of his shaft. Your tongue swirls around his tip, drawing a soft moan from his lips as he closes his eyes and lets his head fall back against the wall.

“Fucking hell,” he groans as you pick up your pace, his grasp on your hair tightening as his hips buck involuntarily. You gag slightly as his tip hits the back of your throat and you flash your gaze up to him, moaning around him to entice him to keep going. Daniel’s eyes flash open and he looks down at you for confirmation, which you give to him in the form of a nod.

“You’re fucking dangerous,” he says, letting your hair fall from the makeshift ponytail he held and tangling his fingers in it instead. He starts to fuck your mouth, slowly at first to not overwhelm you. Rough, but considerate, you think as his tip knocks the back of your throat. Once he’s sure you’re adjusted he picks up his pace, his hand holding your head in place. He lets another low moan fill the room as you hum around him.

“Daniel?” you hear a man’s voice on the other side of the door ask. “Is that you? Are you good, dude?”

Daniel’s head rolls to glance at the door, still fucking your throat as he speaks up through the door. “I’m fine,” he says, attempting a voice that doesn’t sound like he’s getting his dick sucked in the bathroom.

“You sure? We’re back on stage at 10:30,” the stranger reminds him, attempting to push the door open. Daniel’s free arm darts across the door, blocking it from opening.

“I fucking know, Sam!” he yells, his fingers tightening in your hair as he drives his cock to the back of your throat harshly. You gag around him this time, tears springing to your eyes and threatening to fall down your cheeks. You hear the man scoff on the other side of the door, followed by the sound of his footsteps receding, and you look up at Daniel. He glances at his watch, seeing that it’s 10:20 pm, and then meets your gaze, winks, and says, “Let’s make this quick, sweetheart.”

He pulls your mouth off of him and offers you a hand to stand up, which you graciously take, allowing him to pull you to your feet. Your lips collide in a fervent kiss, tongues tangling and hands gripping at each others’ clothes. Daniel’s hands find the button on your jeans and swiftly pop it open, followed by your zipper. He spins you around quickly and tugs your jeans down over your ass, letting them rest around your thighs as he guides you forward to bend over the sink.

“My god, Y/N,” he murmurs, seeing the soaked state of your plum-colored panties. Daniel loops his fingers in the waistband and tugs them down, the sudden cool air mixed with unbridled anticipation making you shiver. His fingertips grip into your ass for a moment before he draws his hand back and delivers a solid smack to your outer thigh, drawing a whimper from your throat. He drops to his knees behind you and drags a finger through your center, watching as you shiver again. Placing his finger onto his tongue, he cleans your arousal off and hums.

“Sweeter than sin,” he muses, licking a stripe up your inner thigh and smirking to himself as your legs quivered in response. He grips your thighs, hard enough to leave bruises, and pushes them apart, dragging his tongue through your folds slowly. You gasp as he laps at your core, your fingers gripping the porcelain harshly, and you arch your back, pushing back against his face.

“Oh my god,” you moan, your head dropping as he moans into you, the vibration ripping right through you. Daniel pulls his face away and you whine desperately at the loss of contact, gasping a second later as he pushes two fingers into you and curls them. He sets a quick, consistent pace with his fingers, bringing you closer to the edge as you bite your lip to try to stifle your moans.

“I’m…I’m close,” you manage, his fingers working relentlessly at your sensitive spot.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he says, pressing a kiss to the back of your thigh. “Give it to me.”

He curls his fingers once more and your vision goes white, your moans filling the room as you cum on his fingers. Your legs shake as he works you through it, his motions slowing as your moans turn to ragged panting. He feels for his wallet in his pocket, but realizes he must have left it backstage, and he stands, placing a hand on your lower back.

“I don’t have a condom,” he confesses, watching you for a reaction. You lift your head and look at him through the mirror and shrug your shoulders.

“I’m clean and I have an IUD,” you say, lifting an eyebrow at him. “Are you clean?”

Daniel nods and smirks, stroking himself as his eyes traverse your body. You let your head fall again, arch your back, and say, “What are you waiting for then?”

“Careful what you wish for, darling,” he says, dragging his cock through your wetness and pushing into you until your bodies are flush. You gasp as you feel him brush your cervix and you feel yourself tighten around him. He groans and grips your waist, your pussy squeezing his cock as you adjust to his size. “Fuck, and I thought your mouth felt like heaven.”

He pulls back and snaps his hips forward, driving you into the sink as you push your ass back against him. Obscenities intertwined with the other’s name fall from both of your lips as he fucks you.

Daniel reaches up with one hand and collects your hair into a ponytail again, wrapping your tresses around his hand and tugging your head back. Your eyes meet in the mirror, a smirk touching his lips as he says, “Want you to watch me fuck you, baby.”

You brace yourself on the sink and cry out quietly, the intense arch in your back allowing him to drive his cock deeper. His hand on your waist lifts and comes down on your ass with a loud crack and you whimper, your sounds spurring him on. You can feel your second orgasm coming on as you watch yourself in the mirror, mouth agape as lewd sounds tumble out of you.

“Daniel…” you moan, looking up at him through the mirror. He looks like a god, his lips parted and his curls falling into his eyes as he snaps his hips forward again. “I’m…fuck,” you pant out, your muscles squeezing around him as you fall apart around him.

“That’s it, baby,” he praises, his fingers kneading into your ass. “Cum on my cock, just like that.”

Your muscles squeeze around him one final time as he pulls out almost all the way, groaning as he slams into you and spills his own release. You feel his cock twitch inside of you and his breath on your back as he leans over you, his orgasm wracking his body. He slides out of you after a moment and tucks himself back into his pants before he cleans you up the best he can with some toilet paper.

“Thanks,” you say, suddenly shy as if you hadn’t let a man you just met fuck you in a bathroom, and you tug your underwear and jeans back up. He smiles at your sudden bashfulness and nods, watching you pick your purse up from where it had fallen.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he says with a wink. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into him, pressing his lips to yours in a much more tender fashion than he had earlier. “Stay for another set?”

Your face flushes as you look up at him, studying his face for a moment, your eyes focusing on the shape of his nose. As your eyes move to study his lips, you realize he’s asking you a question and you’re missing it. You shake away the fog clouding your thoughts and focus.

“Oh, um,” you say as you pull your phone out of your purse and see about 20 texts and 2 missed calls from Rose, probably in a full-on panic now that you’ve been gone and ignoring her texts. “Shit, I’m in trouble. Gotta run, see you around maybe!”

You rush out the door, leaving him by himself, and stand up on your toes to see over the crowd. You spot Rose back by the door and push through the crowd as quickly as you can, putting your arm up and waving her down.

“Oh my god, where the fuck have you been?” she scolds you as you approach her. You grab her wrist and pull her closer so you can talk in her ear.

“We have to go,” you say, pulling her behind you towards the door.

“Wait wait, what?” She asks as she resists you, pulling you to stop. “What the fuck happened?”

“Oh my god,” you say, drawing out the last word, tugging her along. “I’ll tell you while we walk.”

She relents and follows after you, telling the bouncers to have a good night. She catches up to you and links your arms as you walk back towards where the car is parked. Once you were far enough away, you burst into a giddy giggling fit and lean against a light post to catch your breath. Rose moves to the edge of the sidewalk and folds her arms over her chest, watching you with a raised eyebrow.

“Okay, spill. What did I miss,” she prods, nudging your foot with hers. Your head falls back against the light post gently and you turn your head to look at her.

“You know the drummer?” You ask, giggling again. Rose nods and tilts her head to the side, waiting for you to continue. “We just fucked in the bathroom.”

You cover your mouth dramatically after you say it and smile under your hands. Her mouth falls open and she grabs your wrist, pulling you off the post to start walking again.

“Oh my god, he was hot, Y/N,” she says, tugging you along. You catch up with her as you’re turning the corner to the car and nod.

“Mhm, I know,” you say, satisfaction dripping from your voice. You climb into the passenger seat and watch Rose walk around to the driver’s side. She climbs in and starts the car up, pulling onto the street and driving back towards your apartment. “Oh my god and he was good,” you add, tossing your head back against the headrest.

Rose shakes her head and laughs, “You’re fucking insane, you know?”

You nod dramatically and close your eyes as Rose rounds the corner to your street, pulling into the apartment lot and throwing the car into park. You climb out and start towards the building, slowing down so Rose can catch up. You walk into the building together and ride the elevator up to your floor.

“I thought the piano guy was hot,” she confesses, turning to look at you as you lean against the elevator wall. This sends you into another laughing fit.

“He almost walked in on us!” You shout, slapping Rose’s arm as you remember Danny blocking the door while you were on your knees.

“No way!” She clings to you and laughs with you. You both stumble out of the elevator and up to your door, waiting as Rose unlocks it and falling inside as the door opens.

· · ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── · ·

On Monday morning you walk out of your first class of the semester, Philosophy of Sex and Gender, and glance down at your watch. With about a half hour until your Art History class, you decide to grab a quick snack at the cafe. You tug your sweatshirt off, the late morning sun starting to warm up the day, and plop yourself into a puffy leather chair near the window to people-watch as you snack on the trail mix you bought.

As you fiddle with a loose string hanging from one of the rips in your jeans, your mind comes alive as you zone out, bringing you back to Saturday night. The whole day passes through your memory like a timelapse, slowing when you tug Rose into the bar with you. Daniel’s figure behind the drums pops into your head and you feel a blush creep onto your cheeks as you see the two of you at the bar, as if you’re watching the interaction from a different perspective. You feel your heart race as you think about the bruises on your thighs from his grip, almost able to imagine the feeling of his hands on you.

As you snap yourself out of it, not wanting to spend the rest of your day helplessly worked up, you glance at your watch. You flinch at the 10:55 am staring back at you, realizing you only had five minutes to book it across the quad. Grabbing your bag from where it rests against your chair, you race out the door to get to the building on the other side of campus.

You make it inside, out of breath and about two minutes late, and slip into the lecture hall, spotting the professor standing with his back to you as he writes on the chalkboard. Scanning the room for a decent seat, you take note of the way his dark curls are pulled back into a low ponytail and the way he had rolled the sleeves of his black dress shirt. You feel a pang of uneasiness as you realize how familiar he looks from the back.

You spot a seat on the aisle in the third row, making the decision that it’s yours now, but as you start to step forward he turns around to look at something on his desk and you freeze in your place. Not sure you’re seeing things correctly, you duck into a seat towards the back. He turns back to the chalkboard, underlining a date before setting the chalk down and turning to face the class. Fuck, you think.

“Hey guys, I’m Dr. Wagner,” Daniel says, clapping his hands together to get everyone’s attention. “We’re gonna get started here.”

Hearing his voice confirms it and you pull your phone out of your pocket, opening your chat with Rose and furiously typing. You know she’s in an acting lab so she won’t answer right away, but you need to tell someone.

To: Rose🌹

DUDE

To: Rose🌹

MY FUCKING ART HISTORY PROF IS THE DRUMMER FROM THE BAR

You’re not sure whether you want to get up and leave or just try to avoid his eyes. Suddenly you realize that Daniel is the type of professor who paces when he talks as he starts to walk up the aisle you’re sitting on. Every few steps he stops to glance up at the bullet points he had written on the board, his eyes never landing on any one person as he spoke.

“So September 18th is when your first paper is due,” Daniel says, strolling up the aisle. As he lifts his eyes from the floor to glance back at the board, his gaze passes over you and he does a subtle double take, meeting your eyes. “Um,” he pauses, clearing his throat. “Oh, right. And your first exam is uh…is the week after.”

Your cheeks flush when you see it in his eyes that he recognizes you and you break the shared moment, dropping your eyes back to your phone screen to type out another text.

To: Rose🌹

He just fucking saw me. What do I DO???

You shove your phone back into your pocket as Daniel continues rattling off dates of exams and papers, answering questions as they pop up from the class. You keep your eyes trained on the floor, almost afraid to look up and find him staring at you again.

“Okay, and last but not least, your final is on December 5th,” he says, wrapping up the hour-long lecture ten minutes early. “Anyways, welcome back guys. Go on, get outta here.”

Daniel waves his hand dismissively and picks up the eraser from the tray on the chalkboard, starting to clean the markings off of it. You practically leap out of your seat to make a beeline for the door, fearing you’d fall into a million pieces if you stayed a second longer.

“Oh, and uh,” he says as he turns to look at the class list to find your name, even though he already knows who you are, halting you just before you step into the hallway. “Y/N, can you hang back for a sec?”

Your mouth goes dry as you turn around, staring at him from the doorway. Daniel stares back at you, not turning away until you take a step back into the room. As you slowly make your way toward the front of the room, he turns back to the board, lifting a spray bottle from the floor and spraying water on a rag. You reach the front row of the class and lean your hip against the side of the aisle seat, watching his muscles shift beneath the black fabric as he wipes the board down.

“Didn’t think ‘see you around maybe’ meant like this,” he says as he drapes the rag over the bottle on the floor and turns to the desk, refusing to meet your eyes. You trade leaning against the seat for sitting down in it, fearful that your legs might give out from under you, and stare up at him, your eyes wide and your lips parted as you search your brain for something to say.

“I’m not su-” you trail off as he flashes you a stern look.

“You’re not sure what I mean?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you and leaning on the corner of the desk before continuing, “I think you are, sweetheart.” You look over both shoulders, checking for any lingering students.

“It’s not like I knew, professor,” you challenge, your voice hushed despite being the only two people in the room, and cross your legs. Your hands rest in your lap and you turn your nervous energy to the loose string on your jeans again.

“Don’t do that,” Daniel says, his gaze boring straight through you.

A smirk finds its way to your lips and your hands fall still in your lap as you cock your head to the side, feigning innocence, “Don’t do what?”

He pushes himself off the desk and steps down off the small stage, stopping in front of you and bracing himself on the wooden armrests as he leans down over you. Your head spins as you look up at him, his cologne invading your senses and making it difficult to think.

“That innocent ‘professor’ bit,” He whispers as he leans in closer, his lips grazing the shell of your ear and sending a chill down your spine. You shiver as his lips connect with your neck, his bangs brushing your shoulder lightly. Just as soon as the contact is made it’s gone as he lifts his head to look at you, studying the shade of pink that creeps up your neck. You swallow hard and your lips part as if to say something, but Daniel strokes a thumb along your jaw, scrambling your thoughts. He clicks his tongue and blows a laugh through his nose, “What, suddenly speechless?”

He pushes himself up and smooths his hands over his slacks before stepping back up onto the stage and taking a seat behind the desk. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and shake your head.

“No,” you say simply. “Is sir better?”

A smirk forms on his lips and he nods his head, satisfied with your answer. He pushes a pile of papers together and taps them on the desk to align them before sliding them into a pocket of his leather bag.

You remain in your seat, watching as he organizes some things in his bag, and you feel your phone vibrate three times in your pocket, the buzz pattern you’d given Rose. Tugging it free, you glance at the screen and, sure enough, see a text from your best friend waiting for you.

From: Rose🌹

You’re fucking joking.

Daniel clears his throat and looks at you expectantly, silently demanding your attention back. You tuck your phone back into your pocket and return your eyes to him.

“You know you could have mentioned this,” you say, having had a moment to collect your thoughts. He scoffs and shoots you an incredulous look, folding his hands on his desk.

“Sorry, it didn’t really cross my mind to talk about my day job while I was fucking you,” he spits out, standing and collecting his things.

“I need to go meet with a colleague briefly,” he explains, leaning against the side of the desk. “I think we should talk about this privately. Go wait outside of my office.”

You sit up straight and take a breath, parting your lips to protest, but he holds up a hand to stop you. Shrinking back into your seat, you watch him step down and stop when he stands next to you. With a finger under your chin, he pulls up gently, forcing you to look up at him.

“Be a good girl,” he says, his voice low and commanding. “Room 321.”

Daniel lets go of your face, turns up the aisle, and walks into the building’s lobby, leaving you alone in the room as you’d left him at the bar. You sit silently for a few minutes, debating your next move, and finally decide to go, feeling certain he wouldn’t be letting this go. You gather your belongings and make your way toward the hall, unsure of what awaits you when he gets back.

· · ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── · ·

chapter ii

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miinatozakiii · 9 months

Text

moonlight serenade

kindergarden teacher!sana x fem!reader. (pt. 3)

summary: sana finds you even cuter after seeing you in shark pj's, you two are hopeless lesbians, you drive sana home and it's more romantic than it should be – oh my god you're not a mother?

wc: 5.3k

warnings: mentions of food, i think that's it ; reader has tattoos ; u two are hopeless romantics ; lesbians being lesbians

pt 1. pt2. pt4.

a/n: I love jazz. I've been listening to jazz in a bakery/cafe while writing each part actually. pls listen to moonlight serenade by ella fitzgerald, it's a work of art and one of my all time favorites :-D

(are lyrics in fics corny? I have no idea. I just love jazz and thought this song was perfect for this part.)

trying to write as much before I move! enjoy ;-]

“Are you actually serious?” Jihyo says, placing her cup of coffee down. Sana pinches the bridge of her nose and lets out a small breath,

“Jihyo, I don’t know what to do,” Sana says defeatedly.

Two months have passed by and that means two months of seeing you every now and then. Johnny, your brother, has returned from his business trip, so he ended up being the one to take Hana to school in the morning and the one to pick her up in the afternoon. You, however, were not going to miss the chance to see this lovely woman named Sana. 5'4 inches of pure beauty and charm. So, you convinced him to let you take Hana to school once or twice a week just to see who you think is the woman blessed by Aphrodite.

I mean, the temperature is dropping, and the warmth that spreads through your body when you see Sana is definitely something you need for this weather.

Every week Sana would see you in the morning once or twice. You two would exchange your friendly greetings before Hana goes off to chat with her new best friend Jiyeong, you’d stare at each other all lovingly (you two are oblivious, it’s sick), and then part ways. Rinse and repeat, reuse, reduce, recycle, etc, this went on for two damn months.

Sana would never say anything more, she wouldn’t flirt, she wouldn’t ask you out, and she wouldn’t do anything but be friendly. She still believed that you were literally her student’s mother, and there was a guilt that got heavier every time her heart did a flip from seeing you.

Each interaction sparked a small flame in your hearts, and just before it grew bigger, you’d wave goodbye; the flame would die again, never growing large enough to really warm you two the way you both needed.

“Sana… I honestly have no clue what to say,” Jihyo starts, and she looks at the young teacher in front of her, practically losing her mind, “I mean, you’re sure she’s her mom?”

“Yes, I mean, the girl’s dad and her take turns dropping her off and whatnot. I'm not going to be more delusional than I already am trying to find anything that makes her seem less like a mother, I mean, it's clear that she is the mother of that girl.” Sana explains, and her heart sinks a little, “I guess her dad is nice, though, and tall, I don’t know.” Sana groans.

Jihyo watches Sana stick out her signature little pout and swirl the coffee in her cup,

“Well… There are always others, no?”

“I don’t know, it’s just something about her Jihyo,” and Jihyo listens with interest, “I just, ever since we met, I feel like, there was some kind of… god this is so embarrassing…” Sana trails off, putting a hand on her forehead and pinching her eyes shut from slight embarrassment. Sana reminisces the way you’d joke about Hana making your wrinkles appear if she kept it up with her little antics, how you’d make her laugh at your little comments, and the way your eyes scan the room for her in the mornings and -

“You’ve been a hopeless romantic since we were roommates, I’ve probably heard worse.” Jihyo sighs, and she reminisces about the days when Sana and she had to share a small single-bedroom dorm, and how she would gush about anything and romanticize everything.

“Look, she’s just so pretty… Maybe we could just be friends? She’s sweet.” Sana suggests, and Jihyo laughs in disbelief.

“You want to be friends with someone’s mother that you also, or, might have a crush on?”

“Maybe.”

You let yourself in through the front door with your spare keys, hanging your jacket on the coat hanger and sliding your shoes off, setting them on the shoe rack.

There’s a faint melody of a slow, soft song playing, and there’s a low voice that hums along to the old tune. It fits the atmosphere of the quiet house on a Thursday night.

You creep through the hall quietly to see your brother in the dimmed kitchen washing a few plates. He’s in a navy long-sleeved shirt with its sleeves rolled up so water doesn't temporarily shade his apparel, and loose shorts that go down to just above his knees. His hair is a bit messy, and he looks nerdy with his circular black glasses on. You laugh at the sight of him in his pajamas and slides, he jumps a little and turns his head in surprise after hearing you.

“My god, at least text me.” He sighs, and you chuckle at him. You make your way over to the area where he is and sit across from him at the kitchen island, he directs his attention back to the dirty plate in his hand, “Did you need something?”

“Kinda.”

“You know where everything is, just grab it if you need it. Also, be quiet, Hana just fell asleep.” Johnny responds, turning off the sink and placing the white dish in the dishwasher.

“It’s not a physical thing, I just… maybe some advice, or at least your thoughts.”

“...On?”

“There’s this girl,”

"Oh," He mumbles quietly, “You’re ready to date again?”

“I think so,” You begin, “She’s different you know. Not like that girl in high school. She’s actually the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and she’s sweet and nice and caring and-”

“How long have you known her?”

“Two months...”

“So it is Ms. Minatozaki.” Johnny scoffs, though, not in an insulting way, more of an ‘I fucking knew it’ way. He picks up a rag and starts to wipe it on the countertop.

You look at your taller brother in surprise, “How did you know?”

“Hana tells me all about you two y’know? Why else would you willingly wake up earlier than you should to drop off my daughter at school? And, she tells me that you ask about her teacher?” He laughs, “You’re not good at hiding things, never have been.”

“Hey!” You say defensively, and a little too loud as it makes him put a finger to his lips,

“Lower your voice.”

“Sorry.” You mumble, laying your head on your palm. Johnny turns his body to face you instead of the counter connected to the sink that he had previously been wiping,

“Soooo, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know Johnny.”

“You think she likes you?” He asks, genuinely curious about your new interest. Johnny grabs two glasses of water and places them on the counter, then sits down to the right of you, making sure to give his full attention to you.

Johnny has always been a good brother, and you two had your necessary brother-sister moments where you were at each other's throats; in fact, you’d bicker all the damn time and it even went on into high school. However, you two always had each other’s backs. Even when you hated each other there would be moments where you two were the only ones who understood each other, and sometimes time seemed to stop when you’d talk about the deeper topics and anything bothering you two.

And so, time slows down as Johnny listens to your rant.

“We’re friendly, I mean, what am I thinking? I feel slightly delusional I won’t even lie,” You sigh, “She’s so pretty and sweet and I just, I really want to get to know her. Like ever since I met her I felt like… It’s so corny but I swear the world literally paused for a moment.” You add, shifting your look away from your older brother.

How are you supposed to tell your brother that this woman that you’ve known for two months is making you lose some sleep, and, by the way, you haven’t even had a full conversation with her either. You think of the woman that you go out of your way to run into and see for ten minutes a day total, twice a week. You think of her radiant smile that rivals the sun's rays, the voice that’s more soothing than any song on your playlist, and the way her eyes light up when she sees you, and -

“You’re head over heels, huh,” Johnny says, amused.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I barely know her.” you lie,

“Well, you could.”

“And how am I supposed to do that? ‘Oh hey I think of you day and night just because I think you’re cute and nice and I think I almost overfilled a cup of cold brew while daydreaming about you, uh maybe we could go out sometime?’”

“Maybe don’t say that much, dumbass.” Your older brother says playfully, “Just start with a compliment or something, you seriously suck at this romance stuff.”

“Thanks,” You mutter, rolling your eyes, “But what if she thinks that’s weird? I’m literally her student’s aunt.”

“Maybe,” Johnny sighs and finishes the water in his cup, “Maybe you should get some rest, y/n. If you lose sleep over this woman who you’ve never had a full conversation with, imagine how much sleep you’ll lose when you finally do.” He stands up and makes his way over back to the sink to rinse the glass cup you had gotten him for his last birthday, “So, maybe you should catch up on rest now and rant to me when you finally have the balls to actually make a conversation with her, then I could actually give you some decent advice."

“You suck.”

“I want to give you my feedback and advice, but this is literally all I can say right now: ask her out and come back to me.”

“This is too much.”

“You’re a loser, y/n.” Johnny jokes, and he takes the cup that you hadn’t touched away and then rinses it.

You don’t even get to plan anything or prepare yourself for your next interaction with Sana, and you look stupid when you run into her too.

You’re at the nearest convenience store in an oversized t-shirt that was your brothers’, the gray shirt with a shark graphic on it that was too comfy to not steal. Paired with that tee were plaid shorts and white socks with more sharks on them that you had gotten from Hana last Christmas, along with grayish-green clogs on your feet.

You were dressed like a college student that was on a budget, and of course, you had to run into the woman of your dreams at a convenience store at 12:24 am on a Friday night while looking stupid.

Sana had run into you while you scanned the drinks section. You didn’t notice her calling out your name while there was pop music playing in your earbuds, and when you turned to see who had tapped on your shoulder your eyes widened.

Sana held a small basket in her hand, and she wore a purple sweatshirt along with gray sweatpants, much more presentable than what you were wearing. Your face goes red as you realize that she’s caught you looking ridiculous, all while she looks perfect.

Her hair is clipped up and some strands fall over her face, and she looks so unbelievably adorable just standing there smiling at you.

“Hi.” She says, looking you up and down.

She scans your whole look and gets a little flustered by how precious you look. Your hair is messed up and disheveled at the roots, as if you’d just gotten out of bed and ran a hand through it. The oversized t-shirt drowned your figure in comfort, and your inked, toned forearms were revealed. The t-shirt you wore had a cute shark graphic on it, Sana had guessed that your daughter had something to do with why you had that shirt. She smiles at the sight of you in such comfy clothing, looking lovely as ever while you stare back at her.

“Hey.” You respond, taking out an earbud,

“It’s surprising to see you here y/n,” Sana giggles, “Thirsty?” She questions, and she’s peeking at the vitamin water in one of your hands.

“I guess so.” You mumble, biting the inside of your cheek and putting a hand in your pocket, “It’s pretty surprising to see you here too.” You add. Surprising, but wow, definitely lucky. When would you ever see her looking so comfy and out of her workplace looking so cute?

Sana giggles and you feel like a huge gust of wind has hit you so suddenly, about to hit you off your feet. You smile brightly.

“I couldn’t sleep, I wanted something to snack on,” Sana shrugs. You glance at her basket and see some spicy turtle chips in the basket,

“Eating something spicy at this time is new to me, most people would have something warm, no?”

“Maybe.” Sana mutters, “I like your outfit, by the way.”

Your ears turn red again and you look down at your clothing, “Yeah… It’s a shirt from Hana’s dad, haha, that’s why it’s so big.”

Sana’s heart sinks a bit at the mention of Hana’s dad.

Sana and Johnny had met other times, and Sana thought he was nice, sweet, and she can't lie he does has a nice smile, but not as nice as yours. He treated Hana with care; Sana could tell he loved her dearly, as much as you did.

“I see, I like it. The two of them must love sharks, she always draws them during class.”

“She and her dad are very similar, lots of shark things in the house. I prefer koalas.” You reply. You wonder why the hell you’re mentioning koalas at this time, at this moment in this place, but it doesn’t matter because it seems to spark some kind of conversation with the woman in front of you, and Sana thinks it’s cute, actually.

“Koalas?” She questions amusingly, "They’re cute. I think hamsters are cuter, though.”

“hamsters?”

“Mhm.”

You chuckle at her response and wonder, how does she get cuter every time? Sana turns her head to eye at the drinks, then makes her way to the refrigerator door to grab one for herself, she grabs a canned iced americano and turns her body to face you again,

“Do you live near? I feel like I would’ve run into you sooner if you did.” Sana says, looking at the can in her right hand.

“Uh - no. The nearest convenience store closes at 12, so I just drove around until I found one open.” You answer, “Do you live near?” You ask. You wonder if the question is too weird or creepy to ask, I mean, this is a woman you don’t know too well, and would it be weird to ask a person you find so attractive where they live?

“Kind of. It’s a fifteen-minute walk, maybe less, give or take. The one right next to my place is closed too.”

“You walked? At this time?” You question her. Worry takes over your whole body because she walked alone? In the dark? At this hour?

Sana just hums in response, “Yeah, the neighborhood is really quiet and not too bad.”

“Still, you should’ve driven or something.”

“I don’t drive.” She simply states. You furrow your brows. She just stares back at you with those big brown eyes, it almost makes you forget about worrying.

She walks past you and heads to the self-checkout, you follow. There's a sudden idea that pops up in your mind, and you usually wouldn't be so bold to suggest or ask anything so direct, but it's twelve in the morning and your mind is too scrambled to make or think of any decent decisions.

“Sana,” You murmur, voice just barely above a whisper as you find the confidence for what you’re about to say, “Uh- this might be a little weird to ask, but, um…” You stutter, why the hell are you stuttering? She’s staring at you with those large espresso-colored eyes that remind you of your job at the moment, and the longer she stares back at you the more your mind races. This woman has your heart doing flips and pounding through your chest, you can barely manage your thoughts and words,

“Yes?”

“Uh, could I take you home?” You finally say, barely managing to make eye contact with her and it’s a humbling experience as your usually leveled (at least you think) demeanor crumbles under the presence of this woman.

“You don’t have to. It’s late and I don’t want to cause you too much trouble, y/n.”

“I’d be much more troubled if I knew you were walking home alone at this time, I insist.”

“Alright then. Let me pay first.”

You pause for a moment and Sana just turns back around, scanning the chips and canned coffee she had in her basket. It’s almost 12:30 now, and a pretty girl is letting you take her home. This wonder of the world is letting your disheveled self take her home.

“You have a nice car,” Sana says. She's never had a thing for cars or really knew too much about them. She's only paid attention to Jihyo’s five-seat white Lexus and the black, modified BMW that belonged to her childhood friend Momo. Other cars don't really matter or stand out to her, but Sana’s interest in you grows when she first sees the green Mercedes. Five-seated car looks nice and neat from the outside, for some reason, it really catches her attention. When she sits in the passenger seat she’s hit with the smell of coconut and vanilla. There are two things hung from the internal rearview mirror: One, a small keychain of a koala, and two, a picture of you and Johnny.

Sana can’t help but smile at the picture of you two, you two look happy.

You start the engine and put on your seatbelt before putting the drink you bought in the cup holder. You press on the screen in your car and a slow jazz melody plays. Of course, it had to be a love song.

“I’ve never seen your tattoos up close, they’re really pretty.” Sana suddenly says as you start to move out of where you were parked. Her eyes scan from your upper forearm, where the tattoo started, and down to where it ended just below your wrist, “I only saw a bit of them when you had dropped Hana off the first day.” Sana added.

She wanted to add on about how she also noticed the tattoo just under your knuckles too, and how she found the ink on your skin so endearing. She wanted to tell you all about the things she found attractive about you. From the noticeable things like your bold features to the little things she’s noted in her mind from every meeting. The way you’d always run a hand through your beautiful hair once or twice, the eye contact you couldn’t hold with her, the way you bit the inside of your cheek when you were quiet, the way your fingers often tugged at the beaded bracelet on your hand, how cute it was to watch you say bye to your daughter, and various other little details. Sana wanted to tell you all about those things, but that would be incredibly weird, right?

“Oh, yeah, thank you. I got the tattoo on my forearm a couple of years ago. Hana picked out the butterfly on my hand last year, actually.” You say, looking at the screen of your car as you back up a bit, making sure you don’t hit anything.

“Oh, also, you can type the address on my phone. Here.” You add, handing her the device. Sana types in her address quickly and it pops up on the screen. It’s a quick 4-minute drive, and you both wished it were a bit longer.

The music continues to play softly while you two sit in silence, and it somehow makes the mood a bit more intimate whilst the faint sound of Ella Fitzgerald's voice echoes,

I stand and I wait

For the touch of your hand in the June night

The roses are sighing

A moonlight serenade

Your breath hitches, “Um, you can change the song if you want…” You say embarrassed. Sana shakes her head and mumbles,

“It’s alright. I like it, It’s cute.” She admits, making you blush a bit. You grip the wheel a little tighter as you stop at the red light. The heartfelt lyrics fill the air with a romantic hum, and only the tender melody is heard as you sit together in silence.

The stars are aglow

And tonight how their light sets me dreaming

My love, do you know

That your eyes are like stars brightly beaming?

Sana’s heartbeat skips a little knowing that you listen to such romantic melodies, and she wonders if you love as romantically as such songs. Her mind wanders to the thought of you serenading her in the moonlight, or serenading her in a more domestic setting. The sudden thought of you humming along to these tunes while you cooked or cleaned allowed made her cheeks flush a bit. Jihyo was right: Sana is a hopeless romantic. She’s too far in to get out of the hole of these feelings, and her heart aches a little, the guilt piles up.

You on the other hand are freaking out.

Sana likes your lovey-dovey taste in music, and she seems content (Sana's having a crisis). Maybe you do have a chance with this woman, I mean, she’s already in your car and letting you take her home. Maybe you can do this again, maybe you can listen to songs like this together in a more intimate setting rather than your car, and maybe you can do more than just listen to Ella Fitzgerald together. All the maybe’s in your head are cut short as you reach her place and park in front of her apartment complex.

“We’re here.” You mutter, and you wish you weren’t.

Sana nods and reaches for the eco-friendly bag she had set down, unbuckles her seatbelt, then turns so that her eyes stare into yours with a new intensity. She puts her left hand on your right hand that had been gripping the gear shift ever so gently, your jaw tenses a bit and your left hand that had been on the wheel tightens its hold once more. She looks from your eyes to your lips, then back to your eyes again. Your heart is suddenly an acrobat the way it's doing so many flips.

“Thank you again, I appreciate it.” She says, and her other hand is on the handle of the door, ready to get out, but she doesn’t.

“Anytime, I didn’t want you to be out alone at this time.” you wonder how that sentence leaves your mouth so calmly because your heart is beating at least two hundred times per minute.

Sana’s lips curve into a smile again and you relax a bit,

“Well,” Sana starts, and she opens the door, “I’ll see you soon?”

“I’m picking up Hana on Monday.”

“Great. See you then, y/n.” She finally says, turning away and getting out of the car. You two look at each other again and your eye contact lingers a bit before she finally closes the door, waves, and turns to head inside the apartment complex.

The music continues to play, and your heart longs for her once again.

I stand at your gate

And I sing you a song in the moonlight

A love song, my darling

A moonlight serenade

A week passes after this encounter, and Sana is currently giving the kids an announcement that might have them jumping off the walls.

“Alright everyone in your seats please.” She says kindly. The students listen to her and shuffle to their seats, some chatter being shared as they do so. Sana claps her hands in a pattern to bring the students’ attention to her, and they clap their hands the same way that she had, quieting down in the process.

“Alright everyone, before I make this announcement, I need everyone to behave and not get too rowdy, okay?”

“Yes Ms. Minatozaki!” The class answers enthusiastically. Sana nods and smiles at them,

“Alright. So, there’s a special trip that is planned for you all next week.” She begins. The kids' faces start to light up after hearing the words “special trip” and almost all of them are itching to get more details on it. Sana’s face seems to light up with theirs from just looking at the excitement on their faces, so she continues,

“Next Wednesday we will be spending the day at the art museum downtown. There are going to be multiple people guiding you throughout the museum, and you’ll be able to learn about the art.” Sana explains, “And, at the end of the trip we’ll all meet back at a special room where you can paint along with an instructor.”

The kids’ smiles grow even wider, some are whispering to each other while others continue to keep their attention on the young teacher.

“Now, I also wanted to add that we will be needing some chaperones to help look after the class. I have some papers that I’ll give to you, make sure you show them to your mom, dad, or guardian. If they’d like to tag along to help out that would be great, and highly encouraged.” Sana says, pulling out a pile of papers from her desk, she begins to pass around said forms.

An hour passes and it’s free choice time. Hana walks up to the young teacher with the form that Sana had previously handed out. Sana smiles at the young girl and tilts her head,

“What is it, Hana? Is everything okay?” The young teacher questions,

“Um, Ms… What does guardian mean? You said mom, dad, and guardian earlier. Does that mean grown up?” Hana asks, and she looks at the paper as if her five-year-old self can read the whole thing with ease,

“I guess so. It’s an adult who takes care of you.” Sana explains to the girl. The girl hums to herself and furrows her brows,

“Does that mean y/n can come?”

“Of course, she’s your mom isn’t she?” Sana asks, and she’s confused as to why the girl looks up at her in surprise,

“My mom?”

“Yes… She’s your mom, no?”

“Ms. Minatozaki, Y/n is my aunt.”

Sana’s whole world stops for a moment. Y/n is her aunt?

“So your dad and her are…?”

“Y/n is my papa’s younger sister, she always jokes about him being so old,” Hana says, laughing to herself.

Sana genuinely stops functioning as she processes this new information: You’re not taken. Fireworks set off in her heart and confetti seems to pop: you’re not her mom. All the guilt that had been on her shoulders from thinking she was infatuated with a taken mother is gone, and it all makes sense now. Sana wonders how stupid she could’ve been, I mean, you and Hana’s dad had similar features, face shape, hair texture, and color. The young teacher had also realized that Hana only called you by your name, and not “mommy” or “mom” or anything like that; how could she have been so stupid?

“Ms. Minatozaki?”

“Oh, yeah, yes Hana. Y/n can come, of course, she can.” Sana says, and she really hopes you do come. Hana smiles and looks back at her paper before talking to her teacher again,

“You know, my aunt, she asks about you a lot.”

“She does?” Sana says, her heart skips a beat. Hana nods and looks back up at the teacher,

“She always asks about how school was, but she always ends up asking more about you and how you were during the day.” Sana’s eyes widen and she looks at the young girl in front of her, exposing you for being so interested in her.

The flame in her heart grows bigger, and it seems that the flame has no intention of dying down now that she knows you’re not Hana’s mother. Hana turns around and makes her way back to her desk to color after seeing that Sana wasn’t capable of responding again, and Sana doesn't even notice. Hana sits down unbothered, not knowing that she just turned Sana’s whole mood around, not knowing that this new piece of information will have her daydreaming the rest of the day – no, the rest of the week – maybe the rest of the month.

The school day comes to an end and the usual routine occurs: bell rings, kids scream, talk, and practically leap out of their seats to get in line to go to the entrance of the building. Sana waits with her usual group of eight, which includes Hana, and she hopes that today would be the day that you decided to pick her up. You had already picked Hana up on Monday, but now it’s Wednesday and those are the days that Hana’s dad would usually pick the little girl up, great.

Forty minutes pass and Sana sits down at the main office with Hana, no one had come to pick her up yet. Hana seems to be unbothered by this as she colors and draws on the sheet of paper that Sana had given her to cure her boredom, but she worries slightly since Jihyo still waits for her in the front.

Sana texts Jihyo a string of apologies and explanations and before she reads the instant reply, the sound of heavy breaths are heard as a familiar face enters the room, looking around all worried until her body relaxes when she sees her niece.

Y/n lets out a sigh of relief seeing Hana sitting down, coloring as if there wasn’t a single problem in the world. Her look shifts over to Sana, who is already looking at her. Their eyes meet and it makes the two women smile at one another.

“Hana,” your voice makes the little girl turn her head. She smiles and runs up to hug you, leaving her art on the desk,

“Aunt y/n!” And this is the first time Sana hears the little girl actually call you her aunt, she wishes that she would’ve called you aunt earlier (it would've saved her sleepless nights of wondering what the hell to do with her feelings, but at least she knows now).

You hug the little girl back and swipe away the strands of hair on her face, “Hi little one. Your dad had something come up at work, I rushed over as soon as my shift ended.” You explain. You turn back to share eye contact with the young teacher, eyes narrowing and lips curving upwards as you smile at her, “Thank you for watching her, I’m sorry for being so late.”

“It’s all right, really.” It’s more than all right, Sana thinks.

You grin again and turn your attention back to your niece, “Ready to go?”

“Yup!”

“Okay little one, come on.” and you crouch down to let her wrap around your shoulders, letting her piggyback ride you. You grab the art that your niece had made on the table and finally stand in front of Sana, thanking her.

“I’m sorry again, thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem, it’s nice to see you again,” Sana admits, a bit shyly too. The grin that’s already present on your lips grows and you wave to the shorter woman,

“I’ll see you.” You finally say, waving with your free hand and turning your head to the little one, “Let’s get going, your dad will be back by dinner.” You mutter, and Hana hums tiredly in response before you head out the main office doors, taking a quick glance at Sana, smiling again.

…

Jihyo’s going to lose her mind when I tell her all of this, Sana thinks to herself.

#sana imagines #kpop x reader #sana x reader #twice sana #twice x reader #gay gay gay #twice imagines #minatozaki sana #sana fluff

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