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gucciforasushirestaurant · 6 months

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Kinkmas 🎄 № 1: Cockwarming

summary: you kinda (not really) bet harry to ‘no nut november’ and its finally december 1st.

word count: 2.8k

reading time: 11 min

content warnings: 18+,cockwarming (obviously), teasing, grinding, brief fingering, fluff, clingy reader (and harry tbh), desperate, passionate p in v sex, pet names (baby, lovie).

a/n: Welcome to Kinkmas!

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You had told Harry it was a childish idea. But one thing about Harry, he was stubborn and hard-headed, and if you'd told him not to do something he was going to do anyway….well, he'd just commit to it ten times harder. And that's precisely what he did with No Nut November.

He'd brought up the idea of participating directly after the two of you had some particularly mindblowing Halloween sex. You were giggling, wrapped up in one another, Halloween costume in pieces, still basking in your orgasm glow when you'd off-handedly joked how you couldn't believe you'd gone so long without sex like you'd grown accustomed to with Harry. He'd agreed, joking that he'd 'implode' without having you at least four times a week. Which led to you challenging him, lovingly calling him pussy whipped, and saying he couldn't last two days without you before he came begging for it. You know, because you've seen it before. His record was actually three days.

But still, if you think about it too hard, you'd realize that this, No Nut November, not having had sex with your boyfriend in a month, nonsense is all your own fault. You challenged him, and he swore to No Nut November because he's….Harry, meaning he also committed you to it as well, and now here you are. In bed, counting down the hours until December 1st. Literally. Minute by minute. And hour by hour. You've been trying to distract yourself with a book for the last hour, but you've not retained any of the words your eyes have been scanning despite flipping the pages. All you can think about is how Harry's barely touched you outside of light caresses and feather-light pecks to your lips. For. The. Last. Month. The material you were reading is by no means helping. All the talk of groaping, nipping, and ravishing. They seemed to be the only words you could pay any attention to.

While you have made your disdain for Harry's unnecessary commitment known, Harry has seemed to be unphased by it all. It was your favorite thing about him and your biggest pet peeve. He was always so nonchalant. About everything, except you! Usually, at least, but much to your surprise, he's been able to contain himself and even turned down your many attempts to break his silly vow early this month. You were disappointed, and it may have led to an even deeper conversation that the two of you needed to have when it came to your relationship with sex and your sex life. And while you were grateful that this silly bet could be a vehicle for you to have that conversation, you were ready for it to all be done. You looked over at the clock on Harry's bedside table.

One more hour. Forty-five minutes, to be exact.

Harry was still in the bathroom, going through his nightly routine and trying to get a grip himself. Harry had been strong for 29 days, nearly 30 days. He could make it one more night. But, as Harry wraps the floss around his fingers, he tries to remember why he agreed to do this in the first place. To prove a point, he's sure. What point? He couldn't think of anything else but you to think of a decent answer. But he's noticed. How you've been huffing around the house all month, but especially today, hoping he'd break on the last day and give you what you've been desperate for. How you've been glancing at the clock every forty-five minutes since the sunset. How -

"Harry, come to bed, will you?" your voice carries into the en suite from the bedroom. He can't help but smirk. You've been slightly whiny all day, all week, really, and he found it so fucking endearing. Knowing that you were just as desperate for him as he was for you. You'd deny it, but this arrangement the past month has been a fun challenge for you. He knows how much you enjoy being teased, and this month has been nothing if not one giant tease.

So, not wanting to drag out your misery any longer, Harry rushes through the rest of his routine and comes to the doorway, leaning against it, smiling at you and your book, cuddled under the covers.

"How's the book?" He asks. He always asks.

"Meh. It's okay, not as good as the first one." You rush out, place your bookmark, and close the pages. You put it on your bedside table, turning off your light, leaving only the lamp on Harry's bedside table to illuminate the room. You pat his spot next to him, a slight pout on your lips when he doesn't budge from his spot leaning against the doorframe. "Harry….come on, bedtime. I'm exhausted."

"Alright," he chuckles, pushing off the doorframe, "you just remember that." He says, peeping the cute set you'd decided to go to sleep in tonight. It was a silk baby blue, matching set that you'd just bought on a Cyber Monday sale. You figured it'd be the perfect thing to wear to break your temporary celibacy.

"Remember what?" you question oh too innocently, through a yawn, your eyes already closed.

"It's bedtime. Emphasis on bed." He flicks off the lamp on his bedside table and slides into bed in his spot behind you. You notice it after a few moments once he's comfortably tucked behind you, an arm around your waist. And you can't help the proud smirk that creeps onto your face.

Your plan worked!

You knew that the new set you'd put on, plus a few pouts, would get him hard…..he was almost too easy. So you allow yourself to wiggle around, to 'get more comfortable,' and be positive that you'd feel a grip around your hip, telling you to "be still, and go to sleep." It had happened so many nights this month, but not tonight. His tight grip is there tonight, but it's encouraging your movements. You let out a short gasp, biting your lower lip when you feel Harry's lips on the back of your neck.

"I thought it was bedtime." you tease.

"It is. I just…..I was thinking…" he mumbles between kisses to your neck and shoulder and nibbles your earlobe.

"...yes.."

"What if I just slip inside. That's not cheating, is it?"

"It's the last day." you giggle, wanting so badly to give him a taste of his own medicine but quickly losing any remnants of self-control with his lips doing wonders on your neck.

"Exactly, it would suck to come all this way to lose on a technicality, wouldn't it? So what do you think, Lovie? Did we still finish the challenge if I just - put it inside ya? Just missed you wrapped around me, baby." Now it's Harry who's whining, hand tight on your hip, grinding your ass down into his hardening cock.

You have half a mind to turn him down. After all the struggle you've been through this month, just for him to want to give in on the last day? But he feels so good pressed against you, and his lips are so soft pressed against that spot on your neck that gets you every time. His voice grounds you back down to earth before you can get too lost in the feeling.

"Baby…"

"This was your idea," you say earnestly.

"You dared me."

"I did no such -" Just then, he nipped at your neck before sucking on the sensitive skin under your ear, "No, I didn't. You're just a brat." you giggle, throwing the nickname right back at him…for once.

He pinches your side with a groan. "Don't be mean. I'm in need here, baby. Come on." He continues his work on your neck, shoulder, anywhere he can reach. After a few moments, though, he's had enough and taps at your hip, signaling you to turn over. You allow him to flip you on your other side, facing him, his lips instantly catching yours. He slots his throat between your thighs, bringing your hips to grind down onto the flexed muscle of his thigh. You can't help but let out a moan of relief that slips from your lips into Harry's mouth, which he swallows for you happily.

You allow your hands to twist into his curls at the nape of his neck, racking your nails down his scalp, pulling him closer. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you press yourself even further into him, your hips moving on their own accord now.

"You sure you want to - wanna give up." you taunt, nipping at his bottom lip.

"I. don't care. Need you. Please."

In that moment, you realize that all he needed to do was beg. All he ever needs to do is beg, and you are absolute putty in his hands.

You pull back from his lips just a few centimeters, leaning your forehead on his. But Harry was starved, chasing after your lips with his, nipping at your lips.

"Please, baby."

It was unnecessary, now. Harry's begging. You were already going to give him what he wanted, but the prayer rolling off his lips still makes your stomach flip.

"S'not cheating." you rush out before crashing your lips to his once again, eating his moans.

Suddenly, the two of you are a mess of limbs, trying to rid each other of your clothes. Granted, it was just your silk sleep set and his boxers, but the two of you refusing to separate lips made things much more difficult. Once you were both rid of the barriers, Harry rolled on top of you, burying himself in your shoulder, running his nose up your neck, nipping his way up, and moving his hips into yours. He lets out a hiss as his tip nudges at your clit, wet with your arousal from grinding down on his thigh.

"Fuck, baby." he takes his hand from your hip, snaking it between you two, "Gotta get you ready for me, okay?" He moans, leaning his forehead on hears, with a sweet peck to the pout that's made its way to your lips when you realize what he is doing.

"Harry - just -"

"It's been a month. You're not changing my mind, hey. Look at me." He says, nudging his nose to yours, "I'm right here. You just relax and take what I give you. Got it?" when you nod, without a word, he slips one of his thick fingers inside. "Got it?"

"Mhm. yeah. Sorry." you moan, curling yourself into Harry's neck.

"It's okay. Just relax; gotta fit me in there, yeah?" Harry coos at you, skillfully working his finger in and out of you. "Talk to me, baby. Missed you too much."

"Missed you too, Harry -" You force yourself away from him enough to turn your head towards him to capture his lips in a searing kiss. "Missed you so much, you have no idea." you plead, "Please, more." You whimper, rolling your hips into his hand, and he obliges, slowly pushing in a second digit.

"What do we say?"

"Thank you," you whine out, rolling your head back on your pillow, allowing Harry the room to mark up your neck like he's been waiting for all month.

"And, Lovie?"

"Hmm." you hum, blinking up at Harry.

"No coming," he smirked down at you, one hand between your legs and his other arm propping himself up on his elbow. You huff at him but nod your understanding, turning yourself into his neck for comfort while his fingers work you open. "There, you go, baby." He coos as he feels you relax on his fingers, making him want to add a third just for…safety. And he does, enjoying the cute noises bubbling up your throat with each drag of his fingers. "You're doing so good, baby. You think you're ready for me?"

You nod frantically, rolling your hips up into his hand to convince him. "Yes, always ready. Please."

He plants a deep kiss on your lips, pulling his fingers out of you, swallowing your moan in protest. He pulls away, licking his fingers clean, before maneuvering himself back, hovering over you. Harry grabs ahold of himself at the base, allowing you to roll your hips up, your clit rubbing up and down the tip of his cock.

"Shhh, baby. I'm gonna give it to you but remember, I'm just - fuck - just filling you up, okay. Gotta stay still, I'm okay?" He huffs, nipping at your jaw, placing kisses anywhere he can reach.

"Yes. Please, Harry, just -"

"Stay still, baby," he smirked, holding your hip into the mattress. When he's satisfied with your limited wiggling, he slowly runs his tip up and down your folds a few times, lining himself up before slowly pushing inside, inch by inch. "Oh, Lovie." he groans into your mouth, "Missed you so much." he licks at your bottom lip, begging for entrance, wanting to be wholly consumed with you, and you allow him to be. When he's fully seated inside, you tighten your legs around his waist and arms around his shoulders, burying your face in his shoulder, enjoying the feeling of being so full. The heaviness of him, how deep he was. It was heavenly. You enjoy his lips, kissing, and his teeth nibbling, his voice whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Enjoying the feeling of Harry. And with his lips working magic all over? You weren't sure how much longer you could just allow him to be in you without him being in you.

"Harry," you whine, "Please move."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can," you grumble, shifting your hips up to meet his, just for him to hold you back down.

"Stay still," he begs, now because he's losing his resolve and his slow ability not to finish inside you, with the way you're wrapped around him, rolling your hips and squeezing - but he's made it far. He can't give up now, not when he's so close - god, is he already tight? Just from being buried in you for a couple of minutes? You are quite literally fluttering around him, but still, he shouldn't -

"No. Harry, look. You can move - look." you insist, turning your attention to the alarm clock on his bedside table.

12:02 AM

In blinking red numbers.

"This stupid bet is over, please, Harry - oh."

He only hesitated a split second, trying to wrap his mind around what his eyes were seeing. But once it clicked. It clicked. And his hips seemed to be on autopilot, the way they slowly and sloppily rolled against yours, quickly coming up with a pace that worked magic for you both as he ground his pelvis into your clit.

"Fuck, baby - you feel so fucking good." He moans, leaning his forehead against yours, your head cradled between his forearms. "I missed you so much."

"I missed - I missed you too." you barely get the words out before you feel it creeping up on you, the tightening in your belling and tingling at the base of your spine. "I'm -"

"I know, baby, me too. Shit." He hisses, kissing down your neck, speeding up his hips. You wrap your fingers in his hair, giving it an encouraging tug that you know he always appreciates. To which he groans in your neck, and you revel in it. You're so close that your skin starts to prick with heat, and all you can sense is Harry. "Come with me. Please, Lovie." Harry begs, so you do.

You come with a bright white light flash behind your lids, your eyes snap shut, and you hold onto Harry as he holds onto you, groaning into the juncture between your shoulder and neck, biting his own lip.

A few moments later, you're still on cloud nine. You're floating, weightless, as Harry cleans up the mess between your legs, not before admiring at first, though.

"You are such a freak." you giggle, swatting Harry away and closing your knees together. "Clean me up or let me do it, but please don't -."

"Don't, what? I like seeing the mess I've made." He smirks. You roll your eyes as he opens your legs and begins work cleaning you up.

"Thank you," you murmur through a yawn. Already drawing the covers over you. Harry cleans himself off, tossing the rag on the floor to the foot of the bed, promising to put it away in the morning.

"Sorry, by the way. Didn't mean to make the first time we had sex in a month a quicky." he chuckles, climbing into bed with your wrapping himself around your naked form. "I don't know what I expected to happen, though. Don't let me do that again." He sighs, planting a kiss on your cheek.

"Never."

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kinkmas 2023 masterlist

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828 notes · View notes

icallhimjoey · 10 months

Note

So, have you ever thought about this: Joey agreed to casually have sex with you but finds himself not being able to be casual about it at all so he starts trying to make a connection but you’re running away from these conversations?

(Having an intense måneskin-phase, can’t get over Baby said) ✨

- @nadixm

the way this request lit something on FIRE inside of me was a little unexpected, but thank you so much for sending it in! wasnt able to stop thinking about it after receiving it, so, <3 (girlies, this is obviously going to be 18+ so proceed with caution, and minors: fuck off) Wordcount: 3.9K

---

More Than This

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

You were pretending you didn’t catch that.

But you’d seen him look.

Had felt his eyes on you.

That soft, half-lidded adoring type of shit, which was usually just this sappy post-orgasmic bliss Joe would swim in for a little bit.

Nothing more than biology. Hormones surging around the system and shit. That was all.

Joe would hook an arm somewhere and hold you in place until you gained the strength to let your combined sweat work in your favour, to let you slip free from him. Head for a shower if you were at your own flat – and hope Joe would let himself out whilst you were in there – or straight back into your clothes you’d have to pick up from the floor when you were at Joe’s.

You were in bed with him now, at his flat. You’d started by his front door about forty minutes ago – didn’t need more than a sultry look into each other’s eyes for you to be on him.

Joe hadn’t even greeted you, just stood in his own doorway and waited on the threshold for you to pop out of the lift. And then he didn’t step aside when you approached him.

Gave you no other choice but to launch yourself at him, did he?

Would only let you in if you were attached to him by the mouth and full torso, already ripping clothes from yourself or from him. Only then would he let you inside, turning the both of you around and into his flat for fear of you leaving clothing items out in the communal hallway.

It was like that with Joe.

You liked it like that with Joe.

Not much talk.

All sex.

Maybe a, “Is this new?” if you wore a top he’d never seen before, or a, “Blue, I like blue,” if he saw you’d changed your nails. Superficial shit. Things he’d see and could say something about to feign normal people chat. You never participated. Didn’t react to what he said. Would just yank the belt from his jeans which always either hurt you or hurt Joe.

And then it would get kissed better.

One time you bruised yourself because the belt whipped back at you, right in the face, and it had one of those metal pieces at the end that really fucking hurt. Joe had kissed you better for a long time then. All your escapades blended together, they had started to a short little while back, but you remembered that one time vividly because it was a real stand out. The way you’d gone from shooting pain in the face, pain that left your cheekbone legit bruised in blues and purples surrounding a bright yellow swollen bit of skin, to the pleasure of being cared for and being cared for was different.

Good different.

If you were feeling particularly needy, you’d refer to it still. Would ask Joe to kiss a random part of you better. You’d just point somewhere and go, “Am I red here? Skin’s not broken, is it?” because asking if something was bruised felt too on the nose.

Like Joe didn’t know what you were doing.

Not that it mattered.

Joe would kiss you anywhere for however long you wanted. And if he’d move away, and your throat made a desperate little noise, he’d just be back on you.

Anyway.

It was never anything too adventurous with Joe, but it was always good. It was good that you knew what to expect. Meant you weren’t scared of suggestions that would make you go, ugh, okay, this was fun whilst it lasted, but big nope.

Like, feet shit. Listen, no offence, but if Joe was going to suggest for you to step onto some pudding barefoot, this would be over real fast.

But it had never been like that.

Would never be like that.

You knew who to text for predictable sex that always happened on a soft surface. Where the rough person in the room was you, and you were by no means hard-handed. You’d maybe take Joe’s jaw into your hands a little rough every once in a while, because it’d make his pink lips look even more plush. Would occasionally leave teeth marks near his collar bone or around his thumb. But, that was about the extent of it.

Joe knew his lane. Could still surprise you within that lane from time to time, but you liked that Joe would never pretend to accidentally leave a ball gag out. No, oops how did that get here? sort of dumb shit.

No.

You’d lay eyes on each other and then get to a bed or a sofa as quickly as you could. Limbs tangled. Always kissing. Sharing breaths.

Joe loved kissing. Used it as foreplay but could do it for long without letting it go further until you’d grow restless, which always made Joe grin into the press of his lips against yours. Those were things you’d come to classify as one of the softer moments.

You didn’t mind a bit of emotion.

But kissing you until you were absolutely hungry for more, and then smiling where you could feel it? Almost too soft of a moment.

Those moments were tricky and were best kept to a minimum.

The looking at you after was one of those softer moments too. You were on your back and catching your breath as you stared up at the ceiling, and Joe was just sort of... staring at you. Slowly studying your face from the side, letting his eyes dance over your profile like he’d never seen it before.

Joe looked and looked and looked until you turned your head and he quickly looked away. Pretended he hadn’t been looking. Like peripheral vision wasn’t a thing.

“I don’t like it when you do that,”

Blunt.

But it was sort of nice to just say what you were thinking without being afraid of hurting feelings.

There were no feelings.

Nothing to hurt around here.

“What?”

Joe turned his head back and looked again. Less deep this time though. Not so hormonal.

“Look at you? After what we’ve just done I can’t look at you?”

He knew you’d seen. Was about to say he shouldn’t be blamed because it was sort of your fault. Had you seen yourself? Did you know what you looked like to others? To men? To him, after what you’d just done to each other and with each other?

He didn’t think you knew. Well, maybe you knew, but you’d never understand.

“No, you can look,” you lied, because you really did not like it. Made you feel all sorts of uncomfortable.

“But the looking away when I catch you does my head in. Look at me like you mean it or keep your eyes closed.”

It earned a huff of laughter from Joe who now rolled over onto his side to watch without restriction. No hiding what he was doing. You could only bear a couple of seconds of it before you sat up, stomach muscles working hard at pulling you upright, earning a groan that escaped your constricted throat.

“No, come on,” Joe’s hand was quick, moved from his side to grab at one of your arms. “I won’t look, all right?” he tried, like that would change everything and make you lay back down again.

You’d already scooped your bra up from the floor.

“I’ve got an early day tomorrow,” you said over your shoulder as you sorted the straps before covering your chest back up.

Joe let himself fall back as he let an annoyed sound escape him when you reached for your underwear next. If it had been any more guttural, you’d maybe have taken it seriously.

“You’ve always got an early day tomorrow,” he complained.

“Yea, well, some of us have office hours they need to abide by, can’t just go gallivant whenever we’d like, have to request time off and– it’s a whole ordeal,” you spoke like your life was burdened by the structure of a steady job and a permanent contract.

It wasn’t.

But, you know. You couldn’t go out and stay out late on random Tuesdays like Joe could.

Not that you wanted to go out with Joe on random Tuesdays.

You wanted Joe in between some sheets for an hour on random Tuesdays. And, any other time when you were up for it, really. When you wanted soft touches and face-to-face sex where Joe forced eye-contact.

No.

Joe never forced anything.

But Joe would go, “hey,” real soft, would repeat it until you actually heard it, and it would make you look at him. Then he’d hold your gaze. Was very intense sometimes, especially if you were close and he held eye-contact right as he fucked you through it.

If that was one of the softer moments was still up for debate. Maybe occasionally it was. Kind of depended on your mood, though.

“You got any plans for the weekend then?” Joe’d given up on trying to keep you there for now, and instead focussed on when the next time would be.

You shrugged. “Not really.”

Your sister’s boyfriend had a birthday barbecue that you’d attend, and you needed to find a good cobbler to fix a shoe you’d broken in a mad dash for a tube replacement bus the other day but – no real plans. You vaguely recalled other plans for the Friday night, but nothing was set in stone. There was still plenty of time for a little limb-tangling with Joe.

“Are you around?” you asked, pulling your top over your head, and standing up before turning to see Joe working his arms as he tried to place the covers back in the correct position from where he laid.

“Should be,”

“All right,” you nodded and found your jeans.

“All right,” Joe copied your tone of voice and the nod. You frowned at how corny that was.

“I’m stealing a drink from your fridge,” you said, stepping into said jeans and already making your way out of the bedroom.

“Squash is on the side,” Joe lazily gestured, having learnt by now you never just drank a bottle of water normally like a sane person. Then quickly and more pressingly Joe followed up with, “And I don’t want to find mouthfuls of my leftovers missing!”

You grinned to yourself out of his sight.

You were absolutely going to stick a fork into whatever tubs he had in there. You deserved it after swallowing Joe the way you had moments ago, and he knew it too.

“Focus on the important things, Joe,” you called back from the kitchen, going for a fork. “Like condoms. You’ve barely got any left.”

Fork in hand, you went for the fridge. Found a bottle of water in the door that you were going to put some squash into in a second.

And then, when your eyes looked towards the shelves, your breath hitched in your throat.

This idiot.

What an... all right. Nope. You weren’t going to do this. This wasn’t who you and Joe were and you weren’t going to play along with this.

You see, Joe was a Tupperware man – would always cook too much and then dump whatever he had left over into Tupperware that would fill up his fridge until he could go a full week just eating what he’d already cooked up days ago. It was a side effect of living alone and not knowing fucking portion sizes. Especially for pasta.

Almost every leftover Joe ever had in his fridge was pasta.

Made sense.

You also couldn’t measure spaghetti for the life of you.

What annoyed you about it most was how Joe seemed sort of messy, like any guy was messy, but the inside of his fridge was organised to the point where you thought he had health inspection checking up on him. It was all dated with sharpies – the leftovers. Like he was a professional chef that couldn’t get away with opening something up and just giving it a good whiff to decide whether that was still okay to eat or not.

Annoying.

But, what really got you, is that amongst the four or five tubs of dinner sat one smaller one. One with a little post-it note stuck to it with your name on.

This idiot made his fridge look like the one at your office.

One with Tupperware that had a name stuck to it.

A little preportioned bit of leftovers just for you inside Joe’s fridge, so you wouldn’t have to go digging into any of the other containers.

You took the note, looked at it up close and then flung it onto the counter. You ignored it. Went for a larger tub and opened that, ever the rebel. Let your fork run through it, messed it all up real nice and then took a big bite, grimacing at how cold it was.

Was still good though. Nice.

You closed the tub. Opened another.

Did the same thing – grimaced more because cold but also, it was really annoying how fucking good it still was. Joe either followed killer mommy food blogs, or just... knew shit about cooking. Was a whole ass natural in the kitchen when it came to herbs and spices and things.

Whatever.

You placed the tub back and purposefully left the lid off. Left that on the counter. Smirked at yourself when you closed the fridge and caught a last glance of your fork still inside there.

“Hey,” Joe stepped into his living room, in boxers and a T-shirt now.

You quickly swallowed and got busy with the squash.

“I’ve got um, I’m seeing my friend, he’s got a gig on Friday, it’s at a small venue near Brick Lane,” Joe talked in a casual tone of voice, made his way over to the fridge and opened it to remove the fork.

You feigned innocence. Ignored the whole thing as Joe reached around you to grab the lid you’d left out.

“Sounds cool,” you said, taking a sip to check you liked how sweet you’d made your drink. “Have fun.”

You knew he meant, come with me.

You knew this was his casual way of suggesting you could also maybe hang out together outside of the activities at your flat and his.

But he wasn’t using the actual words, so it was stupidly easy to pretend you had no idea what Joe was trying to do.

“Yea,” Joe spoke around a deep inhale, placing the lid back onto the Tupperware and then gave you a polite tight-lipped smile as he closed the fridge again. “Thanks.”

The way you wanted to squish Joe’s face to wipe that stupid smile off before messing that whole fridge up made your fingers itch a little.

When Joe moved to place the fork into the dishwasher, you decided that was your cue to leave. Man was cleaning up after you and couldn’t even leave the fork in the sink for a second like a normal person.

“Maybe see you after?”

It was a careful question, but one he knew he probably would get a yes to.

“Yea, maybe,” you said nonchalantly, slinging arms into your jacket. “Text me.”

You expertly left everything up in the air. You might have the time for him on Friday, you might not. You weren’t going to go see an amateur band with him though, that was for sure. That wasn’t what this was.

You’d been clear with each other from the start.

Hadn’t used the actual words, but, you were both adults and it was understood that this was what it was going to be. It was never anything else than what it had been tonight and good.

That was good.

You’d met Joe at a party you were only at because it was in your building and your neighbour had invited the whole flat just so no one would complain about the noise. A nice gesture, but never meant as an actual invitation. But it was the flat above yours, and you’d tried to go to sleep, but there were people out on the balcony and they had music going, so there was dancing and feet stomping and – it was all just, loud. You’d thought, all right fuck it, I could go for a few drinks, plan being you’d fall asleep much faster with a bit of drink in the system.

Joe was there.

You’d rocked up in an oversized T-shirt, bicycle shorts and socks in slides. Hair messy with the evidence of the stirring you’d done in your bed.

Joe’d taken one look and knew exactly what was going on. He guessed, but, he’d been right. He was looking at someone from inside the building. There just because they’d technically received an invitation, even if it was only so that they wouldn’t complain about the noise.

“Drink?”

“Yes please,”

For the first fifteen minutes of the two of you talking, you thought Joe was your neighbour. He was the one who’d let you in and who’d walked you into the kitchen.

Yet he wasn’t the neighbour.

Joe sort of knew someone who knew someone who knew your neighbour, vaguely. The person who lived in the flat above you was also a girl, something you weren’t aware of. Her name was Charlie, so you couldn’t really blame yourself for assuming the invitation had come from a guy.

Joe also gave you a drink that was so fucking gross, you immediately went, “What the fuck is this? Petrol?” and he’d gone, “You don’t like it?” before saying he’d try again, do a better job for your next one. You immediately felt bad, seeing as he’d mixed the drink, and had thrown the whole glass back to prove that the drink was fine.

Getting it down was a big task though, and your whole face contorted as you worked at swallowing every single last drop down. Made you shiver and made Joe laugh as he said, “No, no, no, don’t drink it if you don’t like it,” but it was all in your mouth already and fuck, that tasted like it was just pure vodka.

Which you then learned is exactly what that was.

“Dry martini with a twist,”

“What’s the twist? That’s it’s just a big glass of vodka?”

“I mean... yes, it’s exactly that, with a twist.” Joe said dryly and tapped the piece of lemon rind in his own glass. “Bit of lemon.”.

You had nearly burst into laughter. Nearly, because this man was a stranger, and you did come over to get a slight buzz going, so that just happened to work out exactly how you planned it.

“Are there any... I don’t know, regular beers? No twists?” and you’d craned your neck to see behind Joe, to look into the kitchen, which, you knew where the kitchen was because the floorplan was obviously the same to your flat.

Joe’d taken you over to the fridge.

Gave you a no twist beer.

And then later, you’d taken Joe over to your bedroom.

Had no twist sex.

It was so obvious you were looking for the weakest excuse to get Joe over to your place. You were both sort of scraping the barrel, didn’t want to just say it, because you had more dignity than that.

So you’d thrown out your fishing rod and hoped Joe would bite when you looked into the living room of your upstairs neighbour and said, “I like where she placed her sofa, that wouldn’t work in my flat,”

Joe bit immediately.

“Nah, ‘course it would, let’s go try.”

You’d not even gotten close to your sofa that night. Straight from the front door into your bedroom and then straight back towards the front door a short 60 minutes later.

And then it had been like that.

You’d text to check availability and then would either go, “omw” or “come here” and neither of you were ever too proud to pretend you didn’t want it. It was either a, “can’t im busy” or “ive got some time” and it worked fine like that.

It helped neither of you had flatmates you needed to explain shit too.

Except, if you had, you would’ve figured out Joe was somebody a lot sooner.

Oh well.

Joe was nobody in his flat, and even less of a somebody over in yours. You kept him in your phone as first name Joe last name No Twist and refused to change it to Quinn. He wasn’t any better than all the other guys whose last names were all Hinge, or the closest tube station to where they lived.

“Here,” Joe said, just before you were about to leave. You looked back and saw he was holding out the little container of leftovers.

You frowned at it.

“Take it, but heat it up in a pan with a little olive oil, don’t eat it when it’s still cold and stiff from the fridge,”

You kept frowning but held a hand out to take it from him anyway. This felt a bit like refusing to take a tenner from you grandmother because you didn’t need a tenner, but, it was still a tenner, you know?

“I’ll probably hate it,” you lied, stuffing the Tupperware into your bag.

“And you can tell me all about it on Friday,”

Stupid little smirk.

Okay, so sure, you were going to see Joe on Friday after this gig he had to go to. And you’d tell him about how much you hated his leftovers.

Also, if Joe was thinking he was going to get this little container back, he was wrong.

That was yours now.

With squash in hand, you said goodbye and made your way out by yourself. Didn’t need or want Joe to walk you out – Joe knew. Understood. Stayed in his kitchen, but did call, “Text me when you get home,” after you because he wouldn’t be able to sleep if he didn’t know you’d gotten home safe.

“Yea, yea,” you dismissed him, loudly said, “Condoms!” to remind him and gave yourself a quick once over in the mirror by the door before you left. Closed the door behind you a little more rested and satisfied than you had been when you’d walked through it a little while earlier.

Whilst making your way out of the building, you whipped your phone out and found the right text thread.

“can’t do friday, something came up, soz”

And then went over to your calendar where you removed “james hinge” and replaced it with “joe no twist”

James could wait.

James never made you pasta.

Joe did.

Joe would make sure you orgasmed – like, he’d keep going until he could feel the evidence of it himself, would make sure the question “did you come” was unnecessary, and would make sure there was squash on the side and now, Joe had made you pasta.

Yea, you were going to see Joe again on Friday.

You made the mental note to keep his staring to a minimum though. Would have to make him come and then immediately force him out of bed to clean the sheets, or whatever.

Less of the soft shit.

You were going to tell him his pasta was fucking disgusting.

Telling Joe you loved the food he made before climbing on top of him was too soft of a moment. Those moments were tricky. Best kept to a minimum.

---

The Taglisted

@05secondsofsexgods, @a-time-for-wolvess, @adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddie-joe-munson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frogers, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @luvrsbian, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @ohmeg, @paola-carter, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thefemininemystiquee, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow

(taglist currently full, sorry)

#Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #rpf #18+#more than this

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cauliflowertree · 1 year

Text

tom riddle—a certain romance.

.ೃ࿐ྂ tom riddle x fem!reader

summary: tom provides a distraction when your period arrives.

word count: 1.1k

fanfic no. 024

tom wasn’t used to being stood up. he’d had no chance to harbour a dislike for the act because it had never happened until now—not that he could recollect anyway. but now that it had, he hated it.

it was basic manners to turn up to something you’d organised, or at least let him know sufficiently in advance if you weren’t able to attend. he felt cheated. and not that he was particularly concerned with his reputation at hogwarts (but he was), he couldn’t let this go.

currently, unbeknownst to tom riddle, you were hauled up in your dormitory, cradling your stomach, hoping that this change of position would relieve some pain. the water on your bedside had long been empty, and the food you’d taken from breakfast was hardening. on the brink of tears, you slipped a blanket over your shoulders and stared at the ground, wishing it would swallow you whole.

tom, on the other hand, was storming through the castle with a stone cold face, lips pursed and hands in his pockets. it wasn’t unusual for tom to strut through the halls like this, but something about his blank stare caused some alarm with the younger students.

“watch out!” a second year hissed, pulling his friend back by the collar as tom flew past.

he barely noticed.

there was sharp knock at your door, and at first you thought someone must’ve gotten the wrong dorm, but it persisted despite you not answering. stomping over to the door, you whipped it open before another knock could disturb the little peace you had left.

“what?!” you seethed, only recognising the person in your doorway afterwards. “oh, tom. what are you doing here?” you asked.

tom screwed his eyebrows together. surely it was obvious what he was doing at your door. he had waited for you in the library for nearly forty-five minutes—he must have looked like an utter fool. how he hated to be humiliated.

“i-”

“oh! oh, tom, i’m so sorry. i completely forgot,” you threw your hands over your mouth guiltily.

tom looked past you and into your room, noticing the strewn sheets, blankets, stale food and tipped over glass on your bedside. then he looked back at you, expression softening slightly.

“are you unwell?” he questioned you.

“in a matter of speaking, aunt flo has come to visit,” you said delicately.

tom made no answer, only continued staring as if asking you to elaborate further to relieve his confusion.

“that time of the month, tom.”

he shifted. “oh.”

you nodded, leaning against your doorframe. the pain had subsided momentarily in tom’s presence, but now that the excitement had died down, it was coming back full force.

tom said nothing, but his eyes poured into yours, and suddenly his anger had vanished and in its place was a much softer emotion he didn’t care to name. he brushed past you into your room, ignoring the questions you threw his way. retrieving your glass and plate of food, he exited your dorm and placed them on a nearby table.

he was back in an instant, pressing his hand to your lower back and silently ushering you back into your own room. he stopped in front of your bed, and you sat down. the next moment he was gone, and you weren’t aware of how long he’d been away, still trying to understand what he was doing and whether he was coming back or if that was the end of your odd exchange.

but before you knew it, he had returned with a full glass of water and a bowl of fruit. he could barely believe it himself. he didn’t care to look after people other than himself, it wasn’t in his nature, nor in his interest. and he seldom did things that weren’t in his interest.

but he found himself in the hogwarts kitchen arranging fruit in a bowl and asking specially for blackberries because he’d seen you eat them frequently.

“thank you,” you whispered, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

he looked down to you, his gaze sliding down his sharp face and onto yours. he didn’t speak much, not unless he deemed it necessary, and sometimes you appreciated this.

“you’re welcome,” he replied, sitting in the chair in the corner of your room, his ankle resting on his knee and hand gracing over his lips as his elbow rested on the arm of the chair.

it was as if he was examining you. you tried not to wince or react to the pain in your stomach for as long as you could, but eventually you couldn’t help it. tom didn’t move a muscle as he watched you.

“do you like to read?” he asked finally, cutting the tension in half.

“yes,” you answered, “my books are over there if you’d like to have a look.”

tom’s eyes flickered to where you had pointed, and he could see several titles from where he was sitting. in one swift movement he got up from the chair, slipped his hands in his pockets and stepped over to your shelf.

he selected a novel from your collection and returned to the chair.

“you can sit over here, you know.”

tom turned, looking at the space next to you on the bed. “very well.”

the mattress dipped with his weight, and you tried to control your pulse from racing just by him being so near. but his scent was intoxicating—he smelled expensive—and his thigh was almost touching yours. it was the perfect distraction from the pain, though you wouldn’t have guessed such a thing.

tom, too felt nervous, and he didn’t like to feel this way. but he suspected that this type of nervousness wouldn’t be as bothersome as the rest. he pushed the tremble in his voice down and opened the first page of ‘a room with a view’.

his deep voice was calming, diverting, too. though lucy honeychurh and george emerson’s story was also, over time his body had inched closer to yours subconsciously, and now you were touching like it was the most normal thing in the world. after a while, you’d moved back on the bed, head resting against your pillows and legs curled up into you. tom had been resistant at first to make himself comfortable, but had done as you asked and situated himself against your headboard.

bravery had taken hold of you nearly an hour into the reading session, and you dared to rest your head against tom’s shoulder. he didn’t stop reading, he didn’t move, but you could feel him stiffen ever so slightly, and then let go.

after a while, he even ventured to twist his pinky finger around yours, forcing himself to awkwardly turn the pages of the book one-handed—though neither of you were bothered about this.

it was quiet, it was intimate and private, and the moment was yours. and though it was only george and lucy who had shared an embrace, you hoped that it wouldn’t be too long before you and tom would share one of your own.

🏷 @imabee-oralizard @mad-elia @velvetcloxds @garfieldsladybird @flesh--amnesiac

#tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x fem!reader #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fic #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle oneshot #tom riddle era

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fandoms--fluff · 8 months

Text

Shopping or Babysitting?

Flufftober, October 10th

Female vampire reader x Josie Saltzman x Hope Mikaelon x Lizzie Saltzman

Summary: You guys go shopping and you and Josie end up more like babysitters

Warnings: swearing, other than that just cute and funny and fluffy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Why the hell does Alaric need all this shit again?" You groan while pushing a shopping cart around Bells grocery store.

"Something about a fire happening in the kitchen and burning all the food and the counters and cabinets, everything really" Josie answers, feeling the same way as you. She places a carton of blueberries in the cart.

"Ooh, we should get whipped cream" Lizzie says, walking over to the refrigerators. "It's not on the list" Josie calls after her twin.

"Wait, where's Hope?" You look around all the displays from where you're standing. Your eyes land on the auburn headed girl distracted by rearranging an end cap shelf of pancake mixes.

"You know what, how about you grab a box, and Lizzie, you can get one can of whipped cream" you sigh, calling out to them both. Josie looks at you with a confused look on her face.

Hope and lizzie come back with their item and place them in the cart beside eachother.

"Now, if you both don't get distracted and we get the hell out of here quickly, then I'll make vampire pancakes for all of us. Got it?" You explain and look at them as if they're children.

They both excitedly agree right away. "Good idea" Josie whispers to you and you nod your head, agreeing.

"What's next?" Hope asks. Josie looks at the list in her hand "uhhh, tortilla chips. Wow, now that I look at this list, it had the most random order" Josie answers and tilts the list over for you to see. "Huh, it does. Almost as if Jackass just wanted us out of his hair" you say as you turn the cart into the chip isle.

"You know he's my dad, right?" Josie says, trying not to chuckle at how you casually talk about him in such ways. "Oh, I know, but you've got to agree that he's a dick most of the time" you tell her, keeping a close eye on the other two teens in front of you both.

"Hey! Put those down, we're down here for tortilla chips, not any of those" you exclaim, making Josie look at what's in their arms. "How did you guys grab that much so fast?" Josie lightly chuckles. Lizze and Hope have their arms full of different chip bags. They have small pouts on their faces while you make them put the bags back on the shelves.

"Wait, do we still get the pancakes?" Lizzie asks when they walk back over to you and Josie. "On one condition" they both nod. "You each have to have on hand on the cart for the rest of the time we're here" you cross your arms.

"We're not five year olds!" Hope exclaims, Lizzie agreeing with her. "Do you guys want the pancakes? Yes? Then one hand on the buggy at all times" Josie raises an eyebrow.

"Fine" they both mumble, taking a hold of the cart on either side.

You guys walk out to your car with the shopping bags in your arms. Once you place everything in the trunk, Lizze and Hope start to have an argument. Over what? You and Josie have no idea.

"I'm starting to feel like more of a babysitter than a personal shopper now" you sigh. "Glad I'm not the only one" Josie closes the trunk. You open one of the back doors to the car. "Okay you two, shut up and get in or no pancakes and I mean it. And if you're really good during the forty minute drive, then maybe we can watch Harry Potter" you nod for ghem to get it.

"Okay, Mom" lizzie says jokingly, and Hope nods her head. They both climb in the back and start doing up their seat belts when you close the door.

"Remind me to never have kids" you groan. Josie chuckles, "Same here" she says, making you chuckle as well.

You both get in the car, and the drive back was surprisingly peaceful.

Once you get back, you guys bring all the groceries inside and to the slightly charred kitchen. "And you guys paid for it using the card I gave?" Alaric asks, stepping into the kitchen.

"Sure we did" you roll your eyes, sliding things onto a shelf in the fridge. "What did I say about compulsion" he grits his teeth.

"Oh fuck off about that, compulsion is way easier, plus no money was spent, you're saving money" you throw the credit card to him.

"Don't fall into the trap, Dad, we both know you'll lose" Josie says, closing one of the pantry doors. Alaric groans and leaves the four girls alone again.

"Hey! Why did you get to go against the rules and not get in trouble?" Hope asks from where her and lizzie are sitting on one of the counters. "Because I'm older then all of you, and Jackass" you answer them. "...fair enough" Hope mumbles.

"Pancakes?" Lizzie perks up. "Of course, you two weren't horrible, so it wasn't that bad" you get all of the ingredients and materials onto the counter you and Josie are standing at.

"All you guys have to do, is stay there and don't touch or try to help with anything" Josie says, getting a mixing spoon from a drawer. Hope and Lizzie can't cook for the life of them, so it's best to keep them far away as possible whenever you and/or Josie are cooking or baking.

"Alright, here you guys go" You and Josie hand Hope and Lizzie their plates, the opening credits of Harry Potter playing on the screen. "Thanks" they both say, already entranced into the movie.

The pancakes all have a smiley face out of blueberries, and vampire teeth made from the whipped cream. Something you annoyed Damon with until he gave up and then he started annoying Bonnje with eventually in the prison world. (Yes, you teased him endlessly when Bonnie told you about it).

"You know, we're a pretty good team" Josie sits beside you. You wrap am around her shoulders, your plate in your lap. "Hell yeah we are" you kiss her on the cheek, playfully.

"Gross" lizzie icks. "Yeah, we're right here" Hope swallows some pancake.

"Yep, never having kids" you mutter under your breath. Josie hears and chuckles, making you smirk.

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temis-de-leon · 10 days

Text

Day 25 - New Year's kiss

Characters: Mammon x fem!MC

25 kisses challenge Masterlist

Main Masterlist

CW: a bit of self insert (my parents are not every one's parents), Mammon is taller than MC and they have a well established relationship, they are whipped for each other

A/N: we're finally here. Time passed so fast, I'm gonna miss this. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. Next will be the 500 followers celebration, see you there :) (if you want to ofc)

“Shit!”

MC could only watch as Mammon kicked the wheel and grabbed fistfuls of his hair. He seemed desperate, embarrassed and defeated, jewellery sparkling under the faint light of the rural streetlamps and eyes glistening with unshed tears. In a way, he also looked beautiful, and MC felt incredibly guilty for the thought alone.

He was wearing a suit, chest buttons opened and sleeves rolled up, ignoring the cold with nonchalance. Lucifer begged him to put on a coat to, at least, pretend that low temperatures did bother him a little, but Mammon wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t ignore his older brother’s suggestions. In the end, the coat ended up on MC’s shoulders.

The cold cut her skin when she got out of the car, but what hurt her the most was Mammon’s avoidant gaze. He was ashamed, but there was no way he could've known the engine would fail and leave them stranded out of town. The car wasn’t even his! It was rental!

“Things like this happen” she said in a low tone, grabbing the belt loops in his pants to pull him close to her. A blush immediately appeared on his cheeks and MC wasn’t able to hide her smile on time.

“Do they, tho’?”

“It’s an old car, so yeah”

“Well, it wouldn’t have if Lucifer let me bring my Lexura” he groaned, messing up his hair again “It’s his fault”

“It’s no one’s fault”

MC’s interruption went unnoticed and Mammon kept complaining to the air, growing aggravated without letting her get too far, her fingers still anchored to the loops.

She could understand him. It wasn’t the first time they celebrated the new year as a couple, but it would’ve been the first time spending it with her family. It was a milestone in their relationship he was eager to reach and the disappointment was evident in his face.

“You can fly us there and we can spend time with them still”

“But we’re not gonna be with them when the year starts”

His voice was meek, truly beaten, as if not being there when the year ends would bring bad luck to the new year. A superstitious thought that she wouldn’t have assigned to him before, but maybe this first impression was far more important to him than MC believed to be.

“Baby, come on… I swear it’s okay”

MC called his name, moving her arms to hug his waist, and a wave of relief covered her body when he hugged her back and let his cheek rest on top of her head. Although she couldn’t see him anymore, she knew he was blushing and that made her smile.

Not that far away, crossing the darkness of the countryside and beaming with street lights and firecrackers, the sound of chimes broke the silence. People screamed in excitement and anticipation and Mammon sighed with sadness. Only half a minute of the year remained and they were lost in the middle of the road, the asphalt too old for her to comfortably walk on and the distance too long for them to arrive in less than forty minutes.

Her parents would have to wait, but she knew they wouldn’t feel insulted. And frankly, it’s not like she was sad either. She was with Mammon, after all, listening to the weak ringing of the chimes with poorly hidden joyful agitation, and the closer they got to midnight, the faster her heart beat.

Mammon looked at her in surprise, keeping her close to shield her from the cold. The artificial light from above crowned his hair like a halo and MC was too happy to comment on the irony.

“Are you seriously okay with this?”

“Of course I am! As long as I start each new year with you, I’ll always be okay!”

The chimes got louder and people started to scream the countdown. Only 12 seconds left.

They were both smiling like idiots, the disappointment of not arriving on time slowly disappearing. MC stood on her tiptoes and Mammon leaned down.

“Stop being so cute, dammit”

She chuckled and he kissed her and the scream got louder. Fireworks exploding in the air while he spread his hands across her back and she cradled his face, keeping him where he was for a few more seconds before he managed to pull away.

With eyes half closed and a flushed expression, he murmured against her lips.

“Happy New Year, treasure”

“Happy New Year, Mammon”

MC smiled while he kissed her, repeating the gesture again and again until they started laughing. Then, they kissed once more.

Taglist: @ourfinalisation @owlisbuffering @chizukimp4 @ravenredwine @darkflowerav @craftysclown @mehkers

#obey me #obey me! shall we date?#om! shall we date #om! swd #obey me x reader #obey me x female reader #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x reader #mammon x reader #obey me fluff #obey me hurt/comfort #obey me writing #obey me drabble #25 kisses challenge

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mint-yooxgi · 2 years

Text

Hotel California - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Based off of This ask and Hotel California by Eagles

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Slight Humor

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Yes, all 8 of them)

Words: 13,318

Warnings: One stabbing mention. Seonghwa gets a little handsy at one point. The boys are very horny for the OC. I make too many direct references to the song and its lyrics, don’t at me please. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: You know, I never expect a simple Drabble to turn into this beast right here, but I'm happy with the way it turned out. Not gonna lie, this fic is a bit self-indulgent at certain parts, but what fic isn’t? Lmaoo anyways, I do not believe Ateez would ever act like this. This is just my interpretation of this particular Drabble request and the yandere archetype. I really hope you all like this one; feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~ (Seriously though guys, please don’t let this flop haha)

Extra: The whole time I was writing this, I had a chubby!reader in mind, but I don’t explicitly describe anything that would indicate that so I don’t feel right tagging it as such. Just know it’s heavily implied, but anyone can read this!!

Mini Masterlist

Driving down the dark desert highway, cool wind whips through your hair. The sun has slowly been setting, its last few rays of light drifting over the land and casting shadows in their wake.

You've been on the road all day, having had the urge to take a spontaneous road trip by yourself. Work has been really hectic lately, so since you have the next three days off, you decided to use them to your advantage.

The only problem is, the last sign of civilization you passed was forty minutes down the road, and you're not quite sure when the next hotel, or even a place to stop for the evening might pop up. Luckily, within the next five minutes, it seems as if your thoughts have been answered, for a hotel appears in the distance.

Pulling into the parking lot, you eye the place skeptically. For a building right smack in the middle of the desert, it sure doesn't look like one. The bright stone walls practically shine beneath the light of the now risen full moon, the place looking more like a resort than anything. Hopefully it's not too expensive then.

Cutting the engine after rolling up the windows, you let out a long breath through your nose. Slowly, you step out of the car, rolling your neck all the while. Standing only makes you realize just how stiff your entire body is, stretching your arms and back out slightly before you slam the car door shut.

Oddly enough, there are no other cars in the parking lot, save for your own. Your brow furrows slightly as you make your way towards the front entrance. Though, you suppose it makes sense. You are in the middle of the desert.

Pushing open the door, you immediately feel the affects of the air conditioned lobby, your shoulders subconsciously relaxing as you step inside. Your eyes skim the name of the hotel as you enter- HALA HALA- it's modern design seeming to fit it well.

Walking up to the reception desk, you notice that no one seems to be in sight. Perhaps you missed someone on your way in, so you opt to turn around, giving the lobby a quick sweep with your eyes. Still, you fail to see anybody, so you turn back around. Maybe there’s a bell you can ring or something.

Your whole body jumps as you see a man now standing behind the counter, seemingly having appeared from nowhere. His split dyed black and blond hair is slicked back and a smile rests on his features.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." He says. "My name is Hongjoong, and I'm the manager of this hotel here. How may we be of service?"

You blink, needing a moment to collect your thoughts before you're able to remember the reason why you're here.

"Oh, right." You chuckle, somewhat awkwardly. "How much is a single room for the weekend? Two nights in particular?"

"Hmm, let's see," Hongjoong hums, typing something into the computer in front of him. His eyes scan the screen, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "You're in luck. We're having a special this weekend only on our single rooms. Two nights for the price of one."

Your jaw nearly drops at the amount he tells you. "Seriously?"

"Of course." He smiles.

"Great." You say, shock still clear on your face at the outrageously low amount he's quoted you. "I'll take it."

"Perfect." Hongjoong purrs out, eyes becoming hooded as he gives you a quick once over.

Again, you blink, and as soon as you do, his expression is back to being chipper once more. Without another thought, you're reaching into your purse to pull out your credit card, handing it over to Hongjoong in the next moment.

It only takes him a few minutes to ring you up, handing you your card back in the next moment.

"If you have any bags, Wooyoung will be more than happy to help you with them." Hongjoong smiles at you yet again, to which you return.

Thanking him with a nod of your head, you take the keycard he hands you. A shiver runs down his spine as his fingers graze yours, but luckily, you do not seem to notice.

In the next moment, you go to turn around, coming face to face with yet another man who seemingly appears from thin air.

"Need any help with your bags?" The new male asks, completely oblivious to the startle he just gave you.

"Oh, uh," you stammer out a reply, eyes drifting to another man who now sits on one of the front couches reading a newspaper. You swear he snorts out a laugh at the scene that's just played out before him. Weird, you could have sworn there was no one else in the lobby before. "I think I'm okay, but thanks for the offer."

"Really, it's no problem at all." He insists, already following you out of the front doors and back to your car.

"No, really," you huff out a faint laugh, reaching into the front seat to grab your backpack. "I only have the one."

What you fail to see as you lean into your car, is the way Wooyoung eyes you up and down. Licking his lips, his gaze settles on your ass, thoughts already running wild with what he wants to do with you. Finally, you’re here.

Blinking to clear his thoughts as you pull yourself back out of your car, he grins. Before you can protest, he's slipping your backpack out of your hand and slinging it over his shoulder.

"After you." Wooyoung's eyes shine as he watches disbelief paint your features, followed slowly by acceptance.

Pride fills his chest as you begin to lead him back into the hotel and to your assigned room for the weekend. He can feel Yunho's eyes piercing into his back as he walks past with you in front, the jealousy clear as day within the older male's gaze. The sound of paper rustling from behind him has a smirk pulling on Wooyoung's lips.

Reaching your room, you go to unlock the door.

A gasp escapes your lips as you step through the threshold, and Wooyoung knows that he's going to have to share with his brothers later the memory of that beautiful awestruck expression painting your face. Only, in the next second, worry takes its place.

"I don't think your boss gave me the key to the right room." You say, eyes taking in the grandiose space. "This looks like the Presidential Suite."

"It is." Wooyoung hums, placing your backpack carefully onto the chair beside him once he fully steps into the room.

"This can't be right." You shake your head, moving to rush past him and back into the hall.

"You asked for the single room, didn't you?" He quirks a brow, stepping in front of you to block your path.

"I did, but-"

"Then this is the right room." He assures you. "It is what you payed for."

"I don't think it is," you say, sidestepping him and moving into the hallway.

You manage to make it all the way back to the lobby in no time, walking straight up to the reception desk to see if you can catch Hongjoong once more. Unfortunately, he doesn't appear to be anywhere in sight, nor does that man from earlier that had been sitting and reading the newspaper on the couch. Wooyoung has up and disappeared on you, too. You sigh.

"How may I help you?"

"Holy-" you startle, spinning around to see another unfamiliar man now standing behind the reception desk. Yet again, it's like he’s appeared out of thin air. You clear your throat. "Uh, is Hongjoong around? I need to speak with him."

"He's busy at the moment, unfortunately." The man smiles kindly at you. "I'm Seonghwa, the assistant manager. I'm more than happy to help if there's something wrong. What seems to be the problem?"

"Oh, uh, there's no problem, really," you clarify, a nervous pull to your lips. "I just think Hongjoong gave me the key to the wrong room."

"Did he?" Seonghwa hums, somewhat amusedly. He doesn't blame Hongjoong one bit. The poor male was probably too distracted by your beauty, and the fact that he was finally seeing you in person for the first time. "Let me check for you."

"Thanks, I really appreciate it." You smile, handing the key card to him over the counter. This time, it’s Seonghwa who shivers as his fingers brush your own. ”I think he accidentally gave me the card to the Presidential Suite or something."

Swiping the card through the reader, Seonghwa types a few things on the keyboard. A few moments later, he's placing the keycard back in front of you on the counter.

"No, everything's right on our end. That's the correct key." He informs you.

Your eyes widen, lips parting as clear disbelief takes over your features. "You're sure?”

"Positive." Seonghwa smiles, purposely sliding the card closer to you. "Our policy here is to always put our guests' pleasure above anything else. So really, your reaction to the room is the highest compliment you could give us."

"I- uh-" you blink, taken aback by his words. "Sure?" You don't quite know how to respond, but you take the keycard back, nonetheless. "Thanks."

"Of course." Seonghwa straightens the front of his blazer out, a sly grin tugging at his lips. "I live to serve."

Though he fails to add a key word to the end of his sentence. Most certainly does he live to serve, to please. Most importantly, though, he lives to serve and please you.

“Okay…" Brushing off his words, you turn back around, shooting him a subtle side eyed look at his last comment once he can no longer see your face.

Heading back to your room, you shake your head, muttering about how odd this place is. First, it's literally in the middle of nowhere. Secondly, the exterior and interior looks brand new, much too pristine for the likes of the desert. Third, you've barely seen another occupant in this hotel besides the staff and that one guy from earlier. Fourth, a single room means the equivalent of a Presidential Suite. And finally, the prices are apparently dirt cheap.

Seriously, just what is going on here?

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts once more, you reenter your room. Well, if you’ve technically payed for it, you might as well enjoy it.

Ten minutes later and you finally figure out how the jacuzzi tub works, allowing your body to sink into the frothing bubbles. The scent of lilac and honey drifts through the air, the complimentary soaps feeling fancier than anything you've ever experienced in your life.

Soaking in the tub for a bit, you allow yourself to relax, basking in the way the water seemingly eases the tension from your body. The only thing that could make this better would be a glass of wine, and maybe a massage, but that can wait for another time.

You close your eyes, letting your head fall back against the headrest as a content sigh leaves your lips. You haven't felt this relaxed in a long time.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of lustful eyes watches from the shadows. More than anything, wanting desperately to join you. To truly help you relax, in any and every way you desire.

Once you're done, you're quick to dry off, changing into a fresh pair of clothes. Smiling at your reflection in the mirror, you wink at yourself, blowing a kiss in the next moment. You need to start appreciating yourself more. Besides, you look damn good, if you do say so yourself!

Immediately, a thud sounds from behind you, making your heart skip a beat in your chest. Whipping around, your eyes scan the bathroom, searching for anything that could have made that loud noise. Nothing seems out of place, so it doesn’t look like anything could have fallen.

Odd. If you didn't know any better, it almost sounded like someone ran into something, or even stubbed their toe.

You frown, shaking your head. You've had a long drive, and an even longer day. You're probably just imagining things. Besides, you could really use that drink now.

Making your way back towards the lobby, you wander aimlessly, not really sure where to go. You're sure this hotel has a bar somewhere, you're just not sure which direction it would be in. Luckily for you, a plaque that you hadn't noticed before on the wall points you in the direction that you're looking for.

Stepping into the bar area, once again you're taken aback by how empty the place is. Well, empty except for the lone man standing behind the counter wiping at a glass with a cloth in his hand.

Walking up to the counter, you sit down at one of the stools, returning the kind smile the bartender sends your way.

"What can I get for you, pretty one?" The man asks, placing the glass onto the counter in front of himself.

You look down at the pristine wood beneath your hands as a warmth blooms on your cheeks. "Surprise me."

The man takes a moment to observe you carefully, his lips twitching upwards at the corners from seeing the affect his words have on you.

"I know just the thing," he replies, already moving to grab all of the ingredients he'll need to make you a drink. Two minute later and he pushes the now full glass towards you. "Et voila."

"Wow," grabbing the glass with a wonder filled expression, you take a sip. "This is my favourite drink. You must be a mind reader!"

You fail to see the way his brow quirks ever so slightly at your words, his smile turning nervous in the blink of an eye. Just as quickly as the expression appears, it's gone.

"So, what has you here on a Friday night?" He leans against the counter, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows as he rests his forearms on the edge of the wood. "Lover got you down?"

Your eyes widen, and you're quick to shake your head. "Oh, no. Definitely not."

"Huh," he has to hide the pleased smirk that threatens to pull onto his lips as he confirms what he and his brothers have only hoped. This makes things so much easier. "That's hard to believe, given a pretty one like you."

For the second time this evening, pride swells in his chest at seeing the affect his words have on you.

"Thank you," you mutter, not quite used to men being this bold with you upfront. "You're very kind, uh-"

"Mingi." He replies. “Please. Call me Mingi."

"Well, Mingi," the way you say his name has a pleasant shiver running down his spine. "You're sweet."

The smile that radiates from him nearly knocks the breath out of you.

"Let me know if there's anything else I can do for you," he says, and his eyes flash. "Anything at all."

"Yeah, actually," you nod a few times, looking around the room as if you’re afraid of being overheard. "Be honest," you lean in slightly and he can feel his heart beginning to race in his chest, "is the room service here good?"

"Uh," his brain malfunctions as his eyes glance down to your lips, a completely different form of room service other than what you probably intend flitting through his mind. One which he and his brothers would be more than happy to provide for you.

He swallows the sudden dryness in his throat. Thank fuck you don't seem to notice.

"You know, since you probably have an in with the cooks cause you're the bartender, and all." Your voice manages to pull him back to reality, and out of his all too vivid thoughts of what kind of room service he could provide for you. "Anything you would recommend? I'm starving."

"Oh, if you're hungry, why didn't you just say so?" He chuckles. "I'll order something for you, and have them bring it over to you here."

"That'd be great, thanks!" You reply happily, taking another sip of your drink. "I don't have any food allergies, by the way. Well, except for lactose, but it's more of an irritant than anything. No heavy creams or full glasses of milk."

Mingi blinks at you, and your mouth parts, a heat once again rising up your neck and all the way up your face. You can't believe you just said all that. To a stranger, no less.

A smile spreads across his lips, "got it. Thanks for letting me know."

Of course, they all know everything about you. Well, not everything. Yet. Still, it means so much to him how open you already are with him. Mingi knew you'd be perfect for him, for all of them. This just proves it even more.

Heading over to the tablet that he's left at the end of the bar to place an order for you, Mingi's heart warms. Already, he and some of his brothers have been able to show you how well they can take care of you, how well they can provide for you. All so that you will become theirs. And you will be, all in due time. After all, once they have you in their sights, you’ll never be able to leave them again.

"Lucifer Morningstar!" Mingi curses as he rounds the corner of the counter, the thud echoing in your ears as his knee makes contact with the side of the bar.

"Oh my god! Are you okay?" Your eyes widen, watching as he hunches over, hands placed over his one knee as he balances on his opposite foot.

You fail to see the way his eyes flash for the briefest of moments at your own exclamation.

"Yeah," he lets out a breath, easing into one of the barstools beside him. "I'll be fine."

"Ouch," you wince, thinking of how hard he must have banged his knee to have exclaimed that loudly. Speaking of, his words echo through your head, and you cannot contain the laugh that escapes you. When you see him turn his attention from the tablet to look at you, you wave a hand apologetically in the air in front of you. "Sorry, I've just never heard anyone use that exclamation before. Usually, they swear, or say ‘Jesus Christ’, or something like that."

It's low, but you swear you hear a growl reverberate throughout the room.

"Oh," Mingi laughs awkwardly, a nervousness to his demeanour all of a sudden. "Yeah, it's just something my brothers and I always say instead of your typical exclamations."

"Huh," you nod, turning back to the drink still held in your hands. "Interesting."

Not even ten minutes later, another man is entering the bar area with a plate of steaming food in his hands. Jealousy flares within him as he sees you conversing so casually with his brother, a soft smile he's only ever dreamed about being directed towards him resting on your face.

You hardly notice the new presence in the room, but Mingi does, causing a smirk to subtly pull at his features. You're simply too busy conversing with him at the moment. That is, until movement out of the corner of your eye catches your attention.

"One freshly cooked meal for the lovely lady," the man says with a flirty smile as he places the plate of steaming food in front of you.

Thanking him politely, you're quick to turn back to Mingi once more. The men at this hotel certainly are something else.

"Okay, have we met before?" Your eyes narrow teasingly at the bartender who sits a few seats away from you. "Twice now you've made my favourite things."

"Hey now," the other man chimes in, a teasing lilt to his voice. "I was the one who cooked it. He didn't make squat."

He continues to stare at you, almost expectantly now, and you're quick to avert your gaze. Turning back to your food, you grab the fork that's been provided, and take a bite.

"Holy shit." You say once you've swallowed the food in your mouth. "This is incredible."

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself, Lovely." The man replies, eyes shining with a certain fondness as he watches you eat what he’s prepared for you.

"Seriously, this is best dish of this that I’ve ever had," you say, placing another forkful into your mouth.

He chuckles, loving the way your praise has Mingi glaring dagger at him. Serves him right.

"Oh, where are my manners?" He tuts at himself. "My name is San, and I am very pleased to meet you."

Suddenly, your hand is in his, and he's bringing his lips down to place a gentle kiss onto your skin. Tingles erupt throughout his own body wherever he makes contact with yours, and he has to stop the rumble of contentment that builds within his chest from escaping.

Again, you're taken aback by his boldness, and you swear you see something in Mingi's eyes flash black as San does this. Only, when you blink, it's like nothing ever happened. Weird.

The next hour is spent with the both of them at the bar, simply conversing with each other. You can't count the amount of times they've successfully made you laugh, or even shy at some of the things they say, but they are.

Purposefully, each time one of them does something that has you reacting a certain way, the other is sure to do the same. There's no way they're letting each other one up them. That is, until Hongjoong is scolding them within their mind's link to knock it off.

All too soon for their liking, you're heading off to bed, much to their disappointment. It is late at night, and you have had a long day. Needless to say, it's starting to all catch up to you. You can feel the exhaustion beginning to claw at your mind.

Falling into the plush bed, you're practically out as soon as your head hits the pillows. Funny, you could have swore you saw something shift within the darkness of your room just before you closed your eyes. Only, you find you're too tired to care, quickly falling into the realm of your subconscious as sleep takes hold.

Within the confines of your room, two figures materialize from the shadows. Carefully, one moves to stand beside you while the other gently sits on the opposite side of the bed.

"I still can't believe that she’s here," Jongho says breathlessly, hand reaching out to caress the side of your face.

"Finally, we have her," Yunho replies, feeling as wonderstruck as Jongho right now.

You shift slightly, breath hitching in your throat.

They both freeze. Luckily, you don't seem to wake, allowing them to breathe a sigh of relief as they continue to watch over you as you sleep.

“She's so beautiful," Jongho watches you in awe, thumb stroking over the skin of your cheek as his heart soars in his chest.

Yunho hums his agreement, his eyes flashing briefly in the darkness. "Ours."

"Ours." Jongho confirms, a content smile pulling at his lips as his own eyes flash, watching over you like he always should. Like he always will be. From now, until forever.

Morning comes with bright light streaming in through the large windows, the sun's rays warming you as you stretch your body out on the bed. A yawn escapes your lips as you rub at your eyes. Sitting up, you throw off the covers, making your way to the bathroom to freshen up for the day.

One look outside the windows, and at your weather app, has a sigh escaping you. It's going to be awfully hot today, the sun shining unapologetically in the sky with few clouds drifting along. In the back of your mind, you begin to wonder what else there is to do in this hotel.

Opening the door to your room, you go to step into the hallway, only for your path to be blocked. Sitting there in front of you is a trolley, what appears to be an extravagant spread of food placed precariously before you. At least, you're hoping that that's what's beneath all these trays with metal food coverings on them.

Leaning out into the hall, you shift your head from side to side, attempting to see if this cart was meant for anyone else. When you don't see anyone around, you look back at the cart. This time, your eyes catch on a folded card placed just beside the small vase with a single red rose held within.

Picking up the note, you're quick to open it, seeing as it's addressed to you. You blink as you read the note over a few times, a soft smile painting your features, yet still surprised, nonetheless.

Please enjoy this complementary breakfast from us to you.

~ Your friends at HALA HALA

Rolling the cart into your room, you're quick to remove all of the coverings. The smell of your favourite breakfast foods greet you as you take in the fresh spread before you. Your jaw nearly drops, torn between thinking that this is incredible, and that something strange is going on here.

Oh well, at least you're getting free food out of this.

Once you're finished eating, you clean up as best you can and head downstairs for the day. A book rests in your hand, figuring that you can find someplace quiet to read and pass the time. Maybe you’ll even listen to music while you do so.

Reaching the lobby, you figure you can ask Hongjoong or Seonghwa where the best place to read in the hotel might be. Someplace that’s quiet. Someplace that’s comfortable. Luck seems to be on your side this morning, too, for you see both Hongjoong and Seonghwa standing behind the reception desk. They seem to be in a pretty heated discussion, their voices too low to hear even as you approach them. Once you get close enough, they're both turning to you with fond smiles on their faces. You didn't even know they saw you approaching.

"How can we help you, dear?" Seonghwa is the first to speak, meeting your gaze.

"Uh, a bit of a weird question, I know," you begin, somewhat nervously, "but where's the best place to get some reading done around here? You guys don't have a library, do you?"

Even though you say it jokingly, Hongjoong's response surprises you.

"We do," he hums, and seeing your mildly shocked expression, eyes widening and all, has a warmth flooding his veins. He knew he'd be able to impress you with the amount of time and effort they put into this place. "Unfortunately it's closed for cleaning today."

"Aw," your expression falls slightly, "darn."

"I would recommend our outdoor seating area beside the pool," Seonghwa motions a little ways off to the side, and you can see a set of glass doors leading to a courtyard of sorts. "It'll be warm today, so you can also benefit by taking a swim if you'd like.”

"Oh, no, I don't think I'll do any swimming," you shake your head.

At this, they both frown. Your words manage to pull them from their thoughts of holding you in their lap with their arms around you, their head resting on your shoulder as you read.

"Why not?" Before Seonghwa can stop himself, the question escapes him, and even the younger male beside him shoots him a look. Though, where yours is of confusion, Hongjoong's is of warning.

"This is really the best I have," you reply sheepishly, motioning down towards your outfit- a simple t-shirt and shorts- with a tilt of your head.

"Go ahead and at least dip your feet in." Hongjoong replies, softly assuring you with his next words. "No one will judge you here."

"Okay," you smile softly, "maybe I will, then."

Again, you thank the two men before you as you begin to head towards the glass doors Seonghwa pointed out to you.

Stepping through the archway, the heavy desert heat surrounds you immediately. You let out an exhale through your nose, taking in the sight of the tropical plants around you. There's a small path leading further into the courtyard and to the pool which you can see sitting right in the centre of it. At least there appears to be tons of shade. Just how you like it.

Setting yourself up in one of the plush outdoor chaises, you kick off your sandals.

Leaning back onto the comfortable pillows, you bring your feet up to rest on the cushion, keeping your knees bent so you can hold your book on your lap. You smile softly as a gentle breeze flits passed.

Opening your book, you begin to read.

Not even five minutes later, a man approaches you, a glass held in his hand. You tense, worried that something's about to happen considering you're the only one sitting outside by the pool. Or so it seems.

"Here, I thought you might like a glass of water," he smiles kindly at you as he hands you the glass. "You should stay hydrated in this heat."

"Oh," you reply, placing your book down momentarily so that you can take the glass of water he's offering to you. "Thank you."

"Damn, beat me to it already," another voice says from the opposite side of you, successfully managing to startle you as you hadn't heard anyone approaching. "That's our Yeosangie for you."

"Yunho," the man you've now learned is apparently Yeosangie says, his eyes narrowing slightly at the taller male, "what are you doing here?"

The man - Yunho - is one that you recognize form last night. He was the one reading the newspaper in the lobby.

"Seonghwa told me that our very special guest here was sitting by the pool, and that I should bring her some water to help keep her hydrated." He replies, and sure enough, you see another glass of water being held in his hand. "Like I said though, it looks like you beat me to it."

"One can never have too much water," you say, catching both of their attention, and snapping them out of the pointed looks they had just been sharing.

"Right you are, gorgeous," Yunho grins, handing you the second glass.

Your brows raise slightly at the name he calls you. Hell, it seems almost all of the male workers at this hotel have called you some variation of a nickname or pet name at some point or other. Needless to say, it's a bit odd; you aren’t used to this kind of attention.

"Anyways, I'm Yunho," he says with a grin, pointing over at the shorter male in the next moment, "and that grump over there is Yeosang. If you look over there," again, Yunho points in a specific direction, drawing your gaze to the two men that have appeared on the opposite side of the pool, "that's San and Jongho. Though, I heard you already met San last night."

You nod in response, noticing how the one you've recently been told is Jongho waves quite enthusiastically at you with a large smile on his face. You huff in amusement, lips quirking upwards as you send a polite wave back. If you didn't know any better, from the way the male averts his gaze in the next moment, you'd say that you've just made him blush.

"If you need anything, do not hesitate to let us know. " Yeosang draws your attention to him once more, a certain spark lighting behind his eyes. A spark which you do not understand, but the other males do. One that is practically begging for you to come to them, to seek them out for anything and everything you might need. Anything at all.

"Thanks," you smile. "I appreciate it."

Really, you'd just like to be left alone to read your book now in peace.

"Well, we'll leave you to read in peace now," Yunho grins, walking over and wrapping his arm around Yeosang's shoulders. “Enjoy.”

Blinking in shock, your whole body tenses. Okay, this is starting to get a bit freaky. It’s almost as if Yunho just read you mind.

Shaking your head slightly to clear your thoughts, you grab your book once more. No, that isn’t possible. You’re just overthinking things due to the stressful week of work you’ve just had. This is your chance to relax, and you have every intention to do so.

Opening your book once more, you begin to read.

Across from you, the four boys converge.

Jongho is still reeling from having you smile so brightly at him, and you waved back. Yeosang, on the other hand, crosses his arms, his eyes narrowing at the three males before him. Yunho watches you carefully from across the pool, his eyes subtly trailing over your form. Even San cannot help but drink in the exposed skin of your legs on full display, the sight of your bare thighs making his mouth water.

What each wouldn’t give to be between them right now…

“Control yourselves,” Yeosang hisses through his teeth, sending pointed looks towards San and Yunho, “the both of you.”

“Like you haven’t been thinking the exact same things since you saw them.” San rolls his eyes, keeping his voice low while Yunho just chuckles from beside him.

“At least I have some subtlety,” Yeosang huffs, annoyance clear on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest. “The decency to not have my thoughts project themselves into everyone else’s subconscious.”

Well, I for one, was rather enjoying the mental image of her lounging in that chair by the pool. Wooyoung’s voice echoes through all of their minds. I’d much rather be out there spending time with her, you lucky bastards. Instead, I’m stuck inside on cleaning duty.

Stop complaining. They can all practically hear Hongjoong roll his eyes. You’re the one who begged to be the one to tidy up her room.

That I did. Wooyoung hums. Really, you guys are missing out. Her scent is everywhere.

Now you’re just rubbing it in. Mingi sighs, and they can all hear the pout in his voice.

Oh, panties! Wooyoung cheers, and they all practically let out a groan in need. And they’ve been worn! Don’t mind if I ‘yes’.

Wooyoung. Seonghwa’s voice echoes through their heads, serving as a warning. That is, until they hear his next words. Save some for the rest of us, yeah?

You’re all despicable. Yeosang has to resist the urge to shake his head.

Says the one who was peeping on them having a bath last night. San adds, hiding his smirk behind his drink as he takes a sip.

Immediately, Yeosang’s cheeks flare, his harsh gaze landing on the aforementioned male. That’s different!

Relax. Yunho chuckles, leaning back in his own chaise as he watches you turn the next page of your book. So beautiful, and so oblivious to the desire swirling within each of them for you, and you alone.

We’ve all thought about it before. Jongho adds.

Well, some more than others. Hongjoong’s laugh reverberates through all of them. Let’s just make sure everything is ready for tonight. Then we can really have our fun.

Without hesitation, they all agree, and unbeknownst to you, four pairs of eyes turn to look at you from across the pool. You don’t even look up from your book. At least, not until movement catches your attention. Then, you cannot help the way your eyes widen, gaze flitting between the pages of your book and subtly attempting to check out the male making his way over to the edge of the pool.

"Put a shirt on, you heathen." Yeosang hisses at San. "You're making them uncomfortable.”

San simply quirks a brow, turning to face Yeosang in the next second. His expression says it all.

A smugness soon settles over his features as he feels your gaze trailing over the expanse of his back. The skin of which he knows would look even better if it were covered in your marks. He rolls his shoulders.

Turning back around, San watches you quickly avert your gaze, focussing a little too intently on the page you’re now on in your book. He smirks, slowly sitting at the edge of the pool so that he can lower himself in. Purposefully, he tenses the muscles in his arms as he sinks in, wanting- no, needing- your gaze on him. As soon as he feels your stare, he knows he’s captivated you once more.

See? See how toned his arms are? How well they would look wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear? San bets you would sound so divine as he makes the sweetest love to you, but he knows that you’ll taste even better.

He doesn’t even need to probe your mind to know you’re thinking about him, too.

Okay, now you’re just showing off. Mingi whines.

Not my fault you got caught having to set up for tonight. San smirks, and he watches as you seemingly come back to reality, only to see that smug expression on his face.

You avert your gaze, embarrassed you got caught staring yet again. Reaching for one of the glasses of water on the table beside you, you suddenly feel your body going hot. All of these attractive men will be the death of you, you’re sure.

You fail to see the way their lips quirk upwards as a result.

Taking a sip of water, you feel yourself start to relax at the coldness that meets your tongue. Carefully, you tilt your head to the side, placing the cool of the glass onto the skin of your neck. You let out a content hum, eyes fluttering closed as a result. At least this is helping to cool you off.

Jongho swallows the sudden dryness in his throat, and he’s knows he’s not the only one affected by your actions. The sudden display of your neck as you tilt your head back, so open and vulnerable, is practically begging for them to have a taste of your delicate skin with their tongues. Perhaps a few bite marks would suffice as well…

Thoughts of tonight, and what is still yet to come fill Jongho’s head, and he can feel the anticipation eating him alive. Making you theirs could not come soon enough.

Speaking of… Hongjoong’s voice resounds through the younger’s head. Jongho, it’s time.

The other three watch as Jongho stands from his spot, beginning to slowly make his way over to you. There’s a sort of nervousness to his steps, one which they all understand. Your answer right now will depend on how the beginning of this afternoon and evening with them will begin.

Glancing up from the pages of your book, you notice Jongho now hovering near you.

“Do you mind if I sit with you?” A soft smile rests on his features as he meets your gaze, an air of nervousness surrounding him.

“Uh, sure.” You blink, quirking a brow at him in curiosity in the next second. “Those guys bothering you too much, or something?”

Even though you say it teasingly, Jongho lets out a chuckle, “you could say that.”

Slowly, and with each move deliberate, Jongho takes the seat directly beside you. It’s the closest he can get to you currently without sitting in the same chaise with you, and pulling you into his lap like he so badly wants to do.

Soon. He tells himself. He’ll be able to do that soon.

A few minutes pass by, and it kills him not to have your direct attention on him like his is so attuned to you. No, you’re still much more focussed on your book for the moment. That is, until your tongue clicks loudly, your book slamming closed once you place your bookmark carefully back inside.

“That bad, huh?” He jokes, one of his eyebrows raised in amusement as he looks at you.

“You don’t know the half of it,” you roll your eyes. “But it’s the last book in the series and I’ll be damned if I don’t see it to completion.”

“Why do you continue to read it if it’s that horrible?” Jongho’s head tilts, genuine curiosity shining in his eyes.

“Spite.” You reply immediately. “Pure spite.”

Jongho blinks, intrigued. “What’s it about?”

So you tell him, and fuck, if Jongho doesn’t fall harder for you right then and there. The passion in which you speak with, the fire he sees light behind your eyes as he watches you wave the book around in your hand, even going to far as to hit the cover a few times to emphasize your points, has him hanging on to every word.

You’re so captivating; mesmerizing to watch and listen to, that he doesn’t even realize just how much time has passed since he first came to sit beside you. Plus, he’s gotten to learn so much about you in such a short period of time. Ecstatic doesn’t even begin to describe how he’s feeling at the moment.

The only thing that would make this moment better would be if you agreed to what he’s about to ask you.

“Anyways, sorry for the long ass rant,” you apologize, somewhat sheepishly. “There’s just so much I could say about these books and this author.”

“Never feel like you should apologize for something you’re passionate about.” Comes his honest reply. “Especially not to me. I could listen to you talk for hours.”

Jongho’s words catch you by surprise, stunning you into a shy silence. In the back of your mind, his bluntness makes something within you question his words. You’ve only just met, and he’s being very forward. Still, his smile is kind, and it causes you to crack a small one of your own.

“Really, though,” he adds, a calculating look to his gaze now. One which you miss. “We’re hosting a special dinner tonight for everyone. You should join us.”

“Everyone at the hotel?” You question, a minor furrow to your brows.

“You could say that.” Jongho nods. “We’d really love it if you could attend.”

“How fancy are we talking here?”

Jongho smiles. You seem interested, and he could not be happier. “Wear you finest.”

“Oh.” Immediately, your expression falls. “I don’t think I’ll be able to attend, then. I’m afraid I don't have anything with me that’s appropriate for a dinner like that.”

“No need to worry,” Jongho assures you. “There’s a tailor’s shop that Seonghwa runs at the far end of the hotel. I’m sure there’s something there that you can wear for the evening.”

“That’s…” you try and find the right word. Suspicious. Convenient. “Interesting.”

“Great! We’ll be expecting you around eight.” Jongho stands, and it’s only now do you realize that the other three males have vacated the vicinity, leaving the two of you utterly alone. Something in his eyes flash, the smile that paints his lips serving to unnerve you slightly. “Don’t be late.”

Without another word, or even giving you the chance to respond, Jongho is leaving you to yourself by the pool.

Glancing around, you blink a few times, hardly able to wrap your head around not even seeing the others so much as leave. Checking the time, you see that it’s about halfway past two in the afternoon. Perhaps you should go check out this tailor’s place Jongho had mentioned earlier. The last thing you want to do is be stuck without an outfit for tonight, especially if they’re now expecting you for dinner.

A few minutes later, and after dropping off your book back to your room, you’re standing in front of the doors to the tailor shop. Taking a breath, you step inside.

Quite a spacious room greets you, fairly open concept in design with clothes scattered along the walls on different racks. They seem to be organized by type, and a part of you wonders if some of these clothes have been accidentally left behind or forgotten by previous patrons of the hotel.

The sound of a curtain sliding on a rail catches your attention, and your eyes are drawn to the back of the shop where Seonghwa seems to emerge from.

“Ah, there you are. I’ve been expecting you.” He smiles, and at your questioning look, he adds, “Jongho was just here to fill me in on what you need.”

“Uh,” there’s a certain drawl to the way he says those words that have your lips parting slightly. You clear your throat. “That was quick.”

“Come.” Seonghwa seemingly brushes off your statement, turning around to step back through the way he came. “I’ve got a few options you might like.”

Following him into the back of the shop, you realize that there’s a small fitting area with a large panelled mirror positioned around a raised circular stand. A dressing room rests just beside it, another curtain drawn in front of it for some semblance of privacy. To the opposite side of the mirror, a rack rests with eight different dresses hanging delicately on silk hangers.

The awe filled expression that rests on your face has his heart racing in his chest, a soft grin tugging at his lips. “Pick out your favourite, and then you can try it on.”

You step closer to the rack, hands ghosting the material of the gowns.

“Are you sure these aren’t too…” you hesitate, searching for the right word as you turn to meet his gaze, “extravagant for me?”

“If anything, none of them could ever do you justice.” His honest reply has a heat rising to your cheeks, and even though you turn to continue inspecting the dresses, you can feel his gaze piercing your back.

Saying nothing, your gaze lands on one dress in particular. Pulling it slightly out from the rack, you examine the lace material. The black colour which starts at the swooped neckline slowly transitions into a navy, until it fades into a royal blue at the very bottom of the floor length skirt. Plus, as an added bonus, there are lace sleeves which look as if they’ll reach all the way down your arms and to your wrists. You’ve never seen a dress more perfect for you, or that you’ve loved more at first glance.

“Do you like that one?” Seonghwa’s voice manages to pull you out of your own thoughts, an eagerness to his words. He knew he picked right when he grabbed that gown for you. The thought alone of you wearing it nearly sent him to his knees, and it’s in his favourite colours, too.

“I do.” You confirm with a hum, looking over the dress for another time.

There’s only one slight issue that you can see. The dress appears to be slightly form fitting, and you’re not sure how it may look on you.

“Well, go on then,” he encourages with a smile, motioning to the dressing room behind you. “Try it on.”

For a brief moment, you hesitate, your hand pausing halfway when you go to reach for the hanger. That is, until you decide that there’s really no harm in simply trying it on. If you don’t like it, there are several others you can choose from. Besides, the red one you see hanging right next to it is definitely not a bad second choice.

Gently, you remove the dress from the rack, stepping into the small dressing room in order to change. Fortunately for you, the dress seems to fit like a glove - having no issues slipping into it, and pulling the zipper up with ease. Unfortunately for you, there’s no mirrors in this little dressing room, which means you have to step outside in order to see how you look wearing the gown.

Really, in hind sight, you saw this coming. However, faced with the prospect of stepping out in a slightly form fitting gown in front of a man you don’t know, a handsome man who has complimented you, nonetheless, you find yourself feeling a bit self conscious. Perhaps this dress wasn’t the best choice after all. Still, you really do want to see how you look.

Taking a deep breath to steel your nerves, you slide the curtain open.

“Wow,” Seonghwa’s breath gets stolen right from his lungs as he sees you step out in his dress. His desire for you, which roars unashamedly beneath the surface of his skin, becomes the most difficult it’s even been to hold back. So much so, that he lets his eyes slip for the briefest of moment, the darkness swirling within.

Thank fuck you don’t seem to notice, too busy smoothing out the front of the material as worry seems to tug at your features.

“That bad, huh?” You grimace, fingers twitching at your sides as you stand there in front of the mirror, tense as anything. “I knew I shouldn’t have-“

“You look beautiful.” His raw voice- a few tones deeper than usual and on the verge of sounding strained- rumbles out from his chest.

So badly does he just want to walk over to you, rip that dress right off, and pull you into his arms as he pleases you in any and every way he knows how. He’s glad he blocked off his mind link with the others for this occasion, otherwise they’d receive his much too vivid thoughts about taking you up against the wall right now and claiming you as his like he’s always longed to do.

Besides, they wanted who’s dress you wore tonight at dinner to be a surprise.

Seonghwa’s lips part as he swallows the dryness in his throat, attempting to at least control his breathing to no avail. You really have no idea the effect you have on him, on all of them, do you?

Lifting your head to meet his gaze through the reflection of the mirror, you’re caught off guard by how dark his eyes have become. Even his breathing has gone irregular, his chest rising and falling dramatically with each inhale that he takes.

When you blink, you expect it to all just be your imagination. Only, this time, that does not seem to be the case. Seonghwa is still looking at you with those eyes when you reopen your own - dark eyes filled with an undeniable lust for you.

Slowly, Seonghwa begins to close the distance between the two of you, stalking towards you like a predator would its prey. You cannot help but freeze, eyes following his every movement as he comes to stand behind you. The way he places his hands tenderly onto your waist, holding onto you so gently, completely contrasts the darkness continuously swirling within his irises.

Tilting his head forward, Seonghwa presses the lower half of his face against your shoulder, placing his lips onto your bare skin. His eyes flutter closed, nose slowly trailing up the side of your neck as he shifts to breathe in your scent.

A shiver runs down your spine as you feel the ghost of his breath tickle you right below your ear. Your heart jumps into your throat.

Of all the words he could use to describe you right now - sinful, breathtaking, gorgeous, his - he finally settles on the perfect one.

“Divine.” He exhales, voice low as he leans forward to rest his head against your own.

Your breath hitches as you feel his grip tighten around your waist, fingers sinking into the softness of your skin as he scents you once more. The uncertainty he can sense coming off of you has him halting in his tracks, a sense of dread washing over him. He might have taken things a bit too far just now. You’re not even officially theirs yet.

He silently curses himself. What good is control when he apparently doesn’t seem to have any around you? You make him go crazy. You’re just so irresistible.

Feeling his grip slacken ever so slightly, you move to turn around in his arms. Only, when you twist your body to face him, he’s no longer standing behind you. Instead, he seems to be rummaging around in a box off to the side, not even looking at you.

Did you just imagine what just happened?

You shake your head. That can’t be possible. You aren’t that touched starved so as to imagine intimate scenarios with the first handsome man who gives you an ounce of attention. At least, you don’t think you are.

“Oh, are you finished looking over the dress?” Seonghwa hums, head lifting to meet your gaze. Straightening himself back up with a small smile on his face, you notice an elegant pair of shoes in his hands. “You’ve been staring at your refection for quite a while. Is everything okay?”

You blink. Did you really just zone out for the last few minutes?

“Yeah-” you clear your throat. “Yeah. Everything fine.”

“If you’re still not sure if you like the gown, why don’t you try it with these?” He offers you the shoes that he holds in his hand. “They should fit.”

“Oh,” you take the shoes from his outstretched hand, “thanks.”

It was only for a second, but his fingers grazed your own. Immediately he felt that all too familiar beast stirring within him, and after he had just managed to calm it down, too. His hands are still burning from being able to feel you beneath his touch.

Slipping the shoes onto your feet, you turn to your reflection once more. This time, a smile rests on your features as you take in your appearance. You really do look stunning.

“Are you really sure I can wear this tonight?” Your voice manages to call Seonghwa’s attention once more. “I mean, is it really okay if I borrow it?”

“Of course!” His answer is immediate, eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles at you. “In fact, why don’t you keep it? It looks far better on you than the hanger, anyways.”

Again, a warmth spreads itself across your cheeks as you glance away shyly. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure, Darling.” He hums, a fond look shining within his eyes. “Now, why don’t you change and I’ll wrap up that dress for you?”

“Alright,” you reply softly, already heading back into the little dressing room and sliding the curtain shut behind you.

In no time at all, you’re back into your regular clothes, gown resting on the hanger once more. You take a moment to admire the material again before exiting the dressing room, the dress draped over your arm.

Handing it over to Seonghwa, he places it into a carrying bag for you, careful not to damage the material. The sound of the zipper closing pulls you out of your thoughts, many of which you’ve been attempting to sort through in the past few minutes alone.

“If you need any help with your makeup, I’m sure Hongjoong would be more than happy to assist you.” Seonghwa tells you, handing you the bag with the gown held within.

“I didn’t know he could do makeup,” you hum, impressed. “That’s pretty cool. I think I’ll be okay, though.”

With a nod of his head and a final farewell until tonight, Seonghwa watches you leave the little tailor’s shop. His eyes follow you for as long as he can, and as soon as you disappear from his sight, a sigh is falling from his lips.

Running his fingers through his hair, he shakes his head.

You really have no idea what you do to him. To all of them. How long they’ve waited just to catch a glimpse of you in person, planning everything out perfectly down to each and every last minute. Nothing is going to stop them from finally claiming what they’ve all long since desired.

By the end of the night, you will be theirs.

Making it back to your room, you’re quick to step inside. Carefully, you hang the dress off to the side for later tonight, a soft smile tugging at your lips. Glancing at the time, you see a few hours have passed already, and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head.

There’s no way time should have moved that quickly! It should have only taken you an hour, maybe an hour and a half at most to have tried on that dress with Seonghwa. You could have swore it was only half passed two when you first made your way over there. So, how can it already be five o’clock?

You huff, shaking your head to clear your thoughts. Maybe you really are losing it. First, you’re missing seeing people that are apparently right in front of your eyes. Then, you keep swearing you’re hearing things, like that weird thump in the bathroom last night. Now, you’re pretty sure you’re starting to hallucinate things.

Perhaps it’s best if you leave this place after dinner tonight instead of in the morning like you originally planned. You would leave sooner, but they’re already expecting you for the evening, and you do not want to be rude. Especially given everything they’ve done and provided for you in the past twenty-four hours alone.

Either way, you just hope this evening passes quickly, and without a hitch.

An hour later and you begin to get ready for the evening. You’re just glad you remembered to pack your makeup bag. Once you’re finished, you still have a bit of time to spare, so you spend the remainder reading some more of your book while you wait. Around five to the hour, you head to the lobby.

Emerging from the hallway, you actually see someone standing in front of the reception desk wearing a finely tailored suit. You watch as the man turns around, and you come face to face with Yeosang whose eyes light up as soon as he sees you. You return his kind smile with a polite nod of your head.

“I’m here to escort you to dinner.” He says, extending an arm out to you. “Shall we?”

You loop your arm around his, “we shall.”

As Yeosang walks with you down a separate hall and to a section of the hotel you have yet to traverse, he revels at your touch. The feeling of your arm wrapped around his is like no other, skin tingling beneath the material of his suit wherever you touch. The whole time, he cannot help but steal glances at you from the corner of his eyes.

When he first saw you emerge from the hallway, his breath got caught in his throat. You look absolutely divine, even if you’re not wearing the dress he had picked out for you in hopes that you would wear it.

His jaw had twitched at that, slight irritation flooding his veins at the thought of you wearing Seonghwa’s gown tonight. Well, let’s see what the others make of it, and if they think the eldest might have influenced your decision as well.

After a solid minute of walking, in which you make idle smalltalk with Yeosang, you reach a set of intricately carved wooden doors. You marvel at both the size and design as they open, seemingly on their own, to reveal a finely decorated room. A room which looks much too small to house all of the guest that you were sure were going to be joining you for dinner.

A single table with nine place settings sits in the centre of the room, lit candles lining the middle.

Around the table, the other seven stand precariously placed throughout the room. Some converse with each other while a few others sip on the drinks they all seem to be holding in their hands. Each wears a finely tailored suit, wanting to look their absolute best for you.

As soon as those doors open, and they see you walking through the threshold being escorted by Yeosang, all of their focus immediately belongs to you.

Heartbeats accelerate all around, shivers running down a few of their spines as they take in the ethereal being that is you standing before them. Each man takes his time trailing his gaze over your body, drinking in the image that is you, and searing this moment into their memories for years to come.

Finally, after all of their planning, after all of their efforts and hard work, there you stand. Ready for their taking.

A few send pointed looks in Seonghwa’s direction at seeing the choice in dress you’re wearing, but they can deal with that later. Even if you are not wearing their own chosen gown for you, there is no denying your beauty.

Mingi is the first to seemingly snap out of the spell you’ve captivated them in at your arrival. Instantly, he’s appearing at your side, offering you a glass similar to all of theirs. You take it with a small nod in thanks, noticing how Yeosang already seems to be holding one of his own. You didn’t even notice him take one.

Taking a sip of your drink, your eyes search the room once more.

“Not to be rude, or presumptuous, or anything,” you begin, a look of mild confusion on your face, “but isn’t this dinner supposed to be for everyone staying at the hotel?”

“It is,” Hongjoong confirms, a gentle expression taking over his features. “Everyone is already here.”

He seriously cannot be telling you that you are their only guest at this hotel. It’s impossible.

“I know,” Yunho chuckles. “It’s hard to believe that you’re our only guest.”

There he goes again, seemingly reading your mind.

“Please,” Hongjoong motions to the table before you, “join us.”

A smile that you’re sure is meant to assure you appears on his face, only serving to unnerve you at the way his eyes lock onto your figure, watching your ever move.

Stepping towards the table, you see Seonghwa already pulling a chair out for you to sit in. Of course it would have to be the one right in the centre of the set of three.

Four chairs rest across from you, while two more sit at each head.

Slowly, you take your seat, allowing Seonghwa to tuck you in while thanking him politely.

As if they’ve done this countless times before, the eight men slide up to the table beside their own respective seats, moving fluidly as one to sit down. Hongjoong sits to your left while Seonghwa takes the seat to your right. Mingi sits at one head of the table, while San takes the other end. Across from you rests Yunho, Yeosang, Jongho, and Wooyoung in that order exactly, starting from your left.

You’re starting to think you stumbled upon a cult or something by accident.

Wooyoung has to cover up a snort of laughter just as he goes to take a sip of his drink, choking on the liquid in the next second. Jongho pats his back comfortingly.

“Are you alright?” Your brow furrows in concern as you look at the male across from you.

“Never better.” He clears his throat, offering you a cheeky grin in response.

In the next moment, Yunho is drawing your attention onto him as he asks you a question, a casual conversation soon starting between the nine of you. The more time you spend surrounded by these eight men, the more you start to relax. You don’t necessarily feel uncomfortable around them, it’s just the hotel that’s giving you such an ominous feeling.

Perhaps that’s where you go wrong.

It happens so suddenly, that you almost miss it. One second the place settings in front of you are empty, and the next, a steaming plate of food appears before your very eyes.

You startle in your seat, pressing yourself as far into the back of it as you can. With wide eyes, you stare down at your meal.

“Is something the matter?” Hongjoong asks, and you look up to find eight pairs of eyes all staring at you.

“Uh-” your voice catches in your throat, not quite sure how to describe the phenomenon that has just occurred in front of you.

“San worked very hard all evening on the meals,” Hongjoong adds, a glimmer in his eyes.

“I hope you enjoy!” Said man calls from just off to the side.

“Right,” you reply, somewhat warily. How can they all be acting like nothing abnormal just happened? “Thanks.”

Picking up your utensils, you clutch the steak knife tightly in your hand. Intently, you stare down at your food, half expecting your asparagus to come alive in the next second and start swishing from side to side like dragon tails.

“Go ahead,” Jongho catches your gaze from across the table, a piece of steak already speared on his fork and poised in the air halfway to his mouth. “Dig in.”

Immediately, you comply, worried you might appear rude for hesitating for so long before taking a bite of your meal. Softly, you chew the bite of your steak, the flavour melting on your tongue.

“Well?” San looks to you, almost expectantly.

“It’s delicious,” you reply, your whole demeanour calming as you see that look of joy take over his features. “Like always.”

“Our Sannie really knows how to cook,” Mingi says, a teasing lilt to his voice despite his praise.

“He’s the only one who won’t burn down the kitchen if left alone in one.” Yeosang replies, and you notice the way Mingi looks almost scandalized at his words.

“I would never!” He gasps dramatically.

The laugh that they all hear fall from your lips is like music to their ears.

The more they continue to bicker, the more you seem to ease back into your own comfort around them. You even go so far as to chime in here and there once again in the conversation, much to each of their pleasure, and relief in some cases. Just as you’re beginning to converse with Yunho, Jongho, and Yeosang about your favourite books, Wooyoung spares a glance around the table, locking gazes with the man sitting across from him.

So, are we going to discuss how our eldest here influenced our beloved to wear his dress? Wooyoung’s eyes narrow ever so subtly at the man before him.

Do you really think that little of me, brother? Seonghwa hums in response, quirking his brow slightly in challenge.

He’s not the only one suspicious of what your intentions were. San chimes in, resting his elbows on the table in front of him and clasping his hands beneath his chin, seeing as he’s finished his meal for the time being.

I had no influence over her decision what-so-ever. She made that choice all on her own. Seonghwa replies. It’s not my fault you all seem to lack taste.

Mingi chokes on his drink, blood rushing to the tips of his ears as annoyance floods his veins. At least you spare him a concerned glance, your inquiry into whether he’s okay or not immediately soothing his anger.

Watch it, Hwa. Hongjoong warns, sparing a glance at the male from the corner of his eyes, only to get enraptured by your excited expression in the next moment.

What happened in there, anyways? Yeosang adds without so much as breaking eye contact with you.

Wouldn’t you like to know? Seonghwa leans back slightly in his seat, a certain smugness surrounding him.

Yes. Jongho’s voice echoes through their heads. I think we’d all like to know that.

What did you do? Yunho asks, somewhat accusatory. He’s still suspicious that the eldest had something to do with which dress you picked for this evening, just as the rest of them are.

Fucking hell. Seonghwa lets out a small puff of air, low enough that you do not take notice. In a flash, Seonghwa is sharing his memories with the rest of them. Well, only certain aspects of them. There. Happy now?

No. Mingi grumbles. Now, I just feel worse.

Somehow knowing you were telling the truth makes my blood boil. Yeosang adds bitterly.

Can we not focus on how wonderful she looks instead? Jongho questions, a glint of awe shining in his eyes as he looks across the table at you while resting his head in the palm of his hand.

Has anyone thought to compliment her yet tonight? Hongjoong’s brow furrows only slightly as he doesn’t recall any of them showering you with any of the praise you deserve.

“By the way, I must say,” Wooyoung speaks, drawing your full, undivided attention towards him, “you look absolutely riveting this evening. That dress looks wondrous on you.”

“Oh, uh,” instantly, heat flares to your cheeks and your eyes go wide. A mental image of your little escapade, or rather, what you think you had simply imagined in that shop with Seonghwa flits through your mind. You blink, unaware of how the males around you all stiffen, the air in the room shifting in intensity. “Thank you.”

Park Seonghwa. The way Hongjoong drawls his name out has the elder male holding his breath in anticipation. Is there something you’d like to share with the rest of us?

Not particularly. Either Seonghwa is incredibly brave to continue hiding this from his brothers, or incredibly stupid. As soon as he feels seven mental spears probing at his mind, he knows it’s the latter.

A thwack resounds around the room as Yunho bangs his knee from beneath the table, the sound enough to make you jump.

“I thought we agreed not to touch her, to indulge in her until she was finally ours.” Hongjoong’s voice is low, ominous, as he stares right past you to the male directly to your right.

“You can’t blame me!” Seonghwa replies. “I know any of you would have done the same if given the chance. Don’t act so innocent here.”

Your eyes widen, heart hammering in your chest at his words. You have no idea what’s going on now, and you don’t think you want to stick around to find out.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Mingi warns, making eye contact with you just as the thought of fleeing crosses your mind.

“Okay, just what the hell is going on here?” Your voice draws all of their attention to you once more, and you end up shrinking back in your seat when you suddenly find yourself beneath the gazes of all eight men’s stares.

“There’s no point in keeping it from you any longer. You were bound to find out anyways, this is just not how we planned on telling you.” Hongjoong sighs, leaning back in his chair as he closes his eyes for a brief moment. “I’m sure you’ve noticed something’s amiss by now.”

“Tell me what?” Fear spikes within you. “That you guys are all part of some weird cult?”

Wooyoung, Yunho, San, and Mingi all burst out laughing at your words.

“You could say that,” Yeosang sighs. “It certainly feels like it sometimes.”

Your heartbeat rings in your ears.

“Stop that, you’re scaring her.” Jongho frowns.

Before you can say another word, someone is beating you to it.

“No, we’re not cultists.” Seonghwa sighs. “Though, I don’t think you’re going to feel much better learning what our true nature is.”

“Your ‘true nature’?” The furrow in your brow deepens, panic clear now on your features. “Don’t tell me you all think you’re vampires, or some shit like that.”

“Not quite,” San chuckles from the end of the table.

“More like demonic entities, if you will.” Again, that unnerving smile is back on Hongjoong’s features.

Your heart jumps into your throat. “You’re demons?”

“More or less,” Yunho shrugs casually, as if this is a conversation they have every day.

“No.” You state, placing a hand onto of the table to brace yourself with. “No. This isn’t possible.”

“Anything is possible, my dear,” Seonghwa grins. Truly, a chilling sight which sends a shiver right down your spine.

“This is insane.” You hiss, shaking your head as you stare at your hand placed on the table. Your fingers brush against something familiar.

“The first step towards sanity is embracing the insane.” Hongjoong replies, and you turn to see him stand from his chair.

“Do you really think that everything that’s happened to you within the past thirty-six hours has been natural?” Hongjoong cocks his head at you as he tilts your chair slightly to face him. “We have powers that you cannot even begin to comprehend, Love.”

You swallow the dryness in your throat. “I don’t believe you.”

“It wasn’t some random force that compelled you to take a road trip on your one weekend off,” Hongjoong grins, his eyes flashing black. “It was us.”

A gasp escapes you as his dark eyes lock onto yours. So you haven’t been imagining things. Their eyes really do shift black.

With your heartbeat ringing through your ears, you lean as far back in your seat as you can to get away from him. Your one hand still rests firmly on the table beside you, and you can feel the other’s eyes on you, watching your every move. Waiting with bated breath. For what, you’re not quite sure, but if they have strong powers, and what you’ve been experiencing- been assuming- is all true, then they can also read your mind. Your thoughts are no longer safely your own.

“What is it that you want from me, then?” You meet Hongjoong’s gaze, and you watch as it softens.

“I thought we all made that obvious by now,” he shares a quick glance with the males all sitting around the table, grins pulling onto all of their faces. “We just want you.”

“Me?” To say you’re caught off guard would be an understatement. “You mean you want my soul?”

“Sure, your soul would be nice.” Mingi nods.

“To have and to hold,” Jongho agrees with a nod of his own.

“To cherish and protect,” Wooyoung adds.

“To love and to care for.” San hums, taking another sip from his drink.

“Only if you give it to us willingly,” Seonghwa’s voice is surprisingly soft; tender.

“But never for us to take.” Yeosang shakes his head slightly, as if to emphasize his words.

“Or to keep.” Yunho assures you.

You spare a glance around you as best as you can, confusion clear in your eyes. “I don’t follow.”

“What we’re saying is,” Hongjoong takes a moment to meet your gaze, a tender look shining behind his irises as a smile tugs at the corner of his lips, “we want you. All of you. Mind, body, and soul.”

You can do nothing but stare at him, words failing you as your lips part. You swear your heart is about to burst with how intensely it thunders away in your chest.

“Of course, we would love it if you agreed to become ours willingly,” Hongjoong adds, and you can hear the underlying threat beneath his words. At the sense of fear that spikes within you, he’s quick to assure you. “I promise you that we would never hurt you.”

“We only want to love you,” Seonghwa adds softly.

“To cherish you,” Mingi breathes.

“To protect you,” San voices gently.

“To worship you,” Wooyoung says, voice barely above a whisper.

“To live out the rest of our lives together,” Yeosang’s breath catches slightly in his throat.

“To always be there for you,” Jongho nods his head assuringly in your direction.

“You are everything to us,” Yunho whispers, voice raw with the honesty of his words.

“So please,” Hongjoong draws your attention back to him, his forehead coming to rest against your own as he stares deeply into your eyes, “won’t you let us?”

A small silence settles over the nine of you as you allow their words to sink in. You can barely form any cohesive thoughts, sitting as still as you possibly can as you attempt to wrap you head around this turn of events. Never did you expect for this to happen.

Your lips part, and they all find themselves holding their breaths, greatly anticipating your answer.

“No.”

Hongjoong blinks. This time, it’s his turn to be stunned by your response, pulling away slightly in his shock. “No?”

“No.” You repeat, much firmer this time.

Before any of them can say anything, or even react for that matter, you’re stabbing Hongjoong with your steak knife and pushing him off of you. Standing from your seat with enough force to knock your chair off its balance, you send it toppling to the floor. Not even a moment later, you’re sprinting for the door and out of the dining room, fleeing down the hallway in which you first arrived from.

Your footsteps echo down the corridor as the eight men can only sit there, stunned for the moment at this turn of events. Well, that didn’t go at all how they had planned.

In the blink of an eye, San, Wooyoung, Mingi, and Yeosang have disappeared, chasing after you without a second thought.

“She stabbed me.” Hongjoong voices incredulously, disbelief clear on his face. “She stabbed me.”

“Yes, and?” Seonghwa quirks a brow, amusement dancing in his eyes as he watches Hongjoong pull the knife out of his shoulder, blood dripping onto the floor as he stares intently at the weapon in question. “How does that make you feel?”

“Honestly?” Hongjoong looks over at the older male, nodding his head slightly in awe. “Impressed and horny.”

“Come on,” Seonghwa rolls his eyes at his leader. “Let’s go get our girl.”

Nothing but the sound of the knife clattering to the ground echoes throughout the room as the remaining four of them teleport to where you managed to run off to. You didn’t get very far, only able to reach the lobby before the first half of their group found you. They had appeared in an instant, surrounding you on all sides, and preventing you from escaping. Your pleas to let you go fall on deaf ears.

As soon as you see the other four appear out of thin air, your panic rises. Any and all chance of escape that you had had just now becomes slim to none.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Hongjoong pouts. “And after all that we’ve done for you, too.”

“Just let me leave, and we can pretend that none of this ever happened.” Comes your reply, noting the way a small blotch of red stains the front of his shirt where the knife had pierced him.

“I don’t think you fully comprehend your situation right now,” Hongjoong shakes his head, tutting all the while. “I already told you. You’re ours, and we’re not going to let you go so easily.”

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” you explain, voice coming out much firmer than you thought it would. “I’m going to grab my bag from my room, and then I’m checking out of this godforsaken hotel. I’m going to get into my car, drive home, and none of you will ever see me again.”

“Sure, you can check out of here any time you’d like. This isn’t even a real place,” Hongjoong chuckles as he watches your expression fall, horror at the realization of what his words mean painting your features. “We tried to be reasonable, to give you a choice. Now, you’ll just have to accept the terms you’ve signed yourself up for. You’re ours, and you’re in our domain now, Love. You can never leave.”

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plainclothesdisaster · 2 months

Text

Red Knight Chapter 5

DP x DC | Dead on Main

Read on Ao3

——

The night after the brawl in Danny’s apartment Jason was out as Red Hood scouting a possible arms deal when he spotted it— a Curse Ghost, vaguely beastly and oozing black goo, just as ugly and unsettling as the one from Danny’s place. Jason texted him.

Found one.

So you didnʼt lose my number after all. Iʼll be right there.

Jason sent him the location- a rusted sewer grate at the edge of crime alley that he’d seen a curse ghost vanish into. Danny arrived minutes later in jeans and a jacket, same as always. Not like Jason had been expecting any different, but he had gotten used to working with the Bat. Capes and masks came standard. Danny was anything but standard.

“You bring the gear?” Danny asked as he stepped up toward the sewer gate Jason stood beside.

Jason opened his jacket to reveal he had strapped all kinds of whips and tasers and lasers and launchers to his holsters. He even wore the invisibility cuffs. And the sword.

Danny grinned. “I also brought something extra I think youʼll like.” He reached into his own jacket and pulled out, with great panache, a pair of plain white gym socks.

Jason scowled. “A selection from your laundry pile?” Still, he took them as Danny handed them over.

“If by laundry pile you mean my pile of genius inventions, then yes.”

“Iʼll pass.”

“Suit yourself.” Danny shrugged. “If getting sewer water in your shoes is your thing I won’t stop you.”

Jason frowned.

And then he found himself wearing Dannyʼs socks (back in his boots, mind you), hunting the curse down the drain tunnel, hovering inches above the water instead of sludging through it.

“Real flight just wasnʼt doable with the tech, but these still have their uses.” Danny commented from ahead, his voice echoing down the tunnel completely careless of stealth. He also hovered, simple as if gravity had just turned off for him, none of the wobbles or wavers in balance that Jason was currently trying to hide. Forty feet into the darkness of the sewer and Jason was relying on the night vision in his helmet. Meanwhile Danny seemed just fine.

As they approached a junction in the pipe, Danny slowed. “Its here,” he whispered. Jason sensed it too, somehow. The air was colder and more alive somehow, the colors more warped and saturated.

They peeked silently around the corner and there it was, lounging half submerged like an overstuffed crocodile. Black ooze seeped into the water all around it, making it hard to tell where the beast itself began.

Danny threw him a look, anticipation dancing in his Lazarus green eyes. And then without further warning he pounced.

Hopes of keeping their socks dry vanished. Danny was quickly sopping, no thanks to his outfit choice. Still he fought like a terror, ducking out of the way of massive dripping jaws that threatened to halve him as he returned blows and blasts in kind. Jason watched with trained curiosity. Heʼd been so preoccupied with not dying last time he hadnʼt learned much. This time he bit down his fear enough to make sense of how the curse ghost moved- like water and like a rockslide- and how Danny countered- like mist and lightning.

The curse ghost turned toward Jason and like a firecracker hid anger ignited and lost any inclination he had to stay on the sidelines. He instinctively reached for his guns but then thought better of it in close quarters. Instead he pulled the sword off his back. He swung with stiff determination, slicing through black crocodile hide. He felt a grim thrill as the beast roared.

Jason fought with less caution this time. More rhythm. In the end they overpowered it, beating it down deeper into the sludge until Danny sucked it up with the thermos, neat and tidy.

Danny smiled at him. “Nice work.”

Jason kneeled where it had fallen. Traces of black goo remained on the walls. He ran his fingers through it and it stuck to his gloves like slimy tar. “What the hell are these guys made of?”

Danny kneeled next to him, also inspecting the sludge remains. He pursed his lips. “It’s corrupted ectoplasm.”

Like Jason’s, Danny didn’t say. Didn’t need to.

“These guys are more solid than regular ghosts. It didn’t just phase out of here. It splashed in the water.” Danny rubbed the goo between his fingers before shaking it off.

“You said they’re Gotham’s curse, right? Makes sense that they’d be solid here, more than the regular ghosts.”

Danny looked at him, studying his face as if his mask wasn’t there. “Yeah. I think you’re right.”

Why did he feel such a surge of glowing pride at Danny’s acknowledgement? Like passing another test. Earning his way into this world.

He caught himself. What the hell did he need to prove? He knew he was a great detective- and he could do it all without all the fancy tools and access that Bruce and his flock had.

But solving the curse ghosts was one thing. Solving Danny was what he really cared about. And to do that he needed Danny to trust him.

During the days that followed he tried to tend to his other cases, and he thought about Danny.

Mid stakeout of an upstart drug trafficker his mind wandered. Danny, going to class like some normal college kid. Eating lunch. Making friends. Did he have friends? Jason considered tailing him again to find out, but he thought better of it. If Danny caught him snooping now it wouldn’t be easy to explain it away, and he’d lose the burgeoning trust between them. Or burgeoning friendship. Were they friends?

Jason had made allies for less before, but with Danny he couldn’t let his guard down, not completely. Jason remembered how he took down four thugs like it was nothing. He remembered how Danny looked at him with icy eyes right before he’d dropped him off a building. Every instinct reminded him Danny was dangerous.

The back alley door he’d been watching opened and it took him two seconds longer than it should have for him to react. The men nearly saw him as he ducked his head behind the corner and out of sight.

He eavesdropped on the drug deal, mentally filing away details on where the money was going. He watched as the men got in a black car, noted the license plate. It all felt a bit pedestrian compared to the Lovecraftian beasts he now knew to be lurking in the shadows.

He’d dealt with his fate share of meta weirdness and science experiments gone wrong in Gotham. But he wondered if this was how Bruce felt after coming back from dealing with Justice Leage level business. How was he supposed to focus on small time drug trade when a supernatural threat loomed large over his city?

Amity Park continued to yield no answers, even when he deepened his search. Going out of his way to delve into Gotham library archives wielded no new leads. Newspapers, business reports, even government documents- all missing or, more worrisome, heavily redacted.

When he looked again for the scientific paper by the Drs. Fenton, it had also disappeared from the net. Good thing he’d made a backup when he first discovered it, but it meant someone wasn’t taking too kindly to him poking around.

None of what he found explained what Danny was. Or, maybe more importantly, what kind of person he was.

He remembered something Alfred had once told Bruce after long nights of fruitless research. Some things you can’t solve while holed up in your cave. Some you have to do personally.

He didnʼt remember agreeing to it but he found himself meeting up with Danny nearly every night. Even if he tried to work on his other cases, inevitably a curse ghost would show up and derail his evening plans.

Danny speculated that they sought out Jason more now because he’d proved himself a threat, the same way they came after Danny. “Now that they know your ecto signature-“ whatever the hell that was- they’ll come looking. Territorial bastards.”

“Easier than hunting them down I guess.”

“I like the positive attitude.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

They established a meeting place on the roof old hotel that sat in the heart of crime alley. There had been texts exchanged at first but as the weeks went on they became unnecessary. Jason knew that when he swung up on to the roof each night that Danny would be there waiting for him.

That particular night he landed on the roof with barely a sound. Dannyʼs eyes still flicked over immediately. He sat where he typically did on the roofs edge, and his lips turned up in a half smile as soon as he saw Jason. Excitement buzzed in Jasonʼs skin like neon. Adrenaline. Just the anticipation for the upcoming hunt, he told himself. Certainly nothing else.

They weren’t waiting long before sirens and burglar alarms rang like beacons a few streets over.

“Shall we?” Jason cracked his knuckles.

“After you.”

Jason tipped himself forward off the building, diving in a short free fall. As he neared the street he didn’t reach for his grapple gun, instead he pulled on that energy under his heart, focused on his socks and hovered the last few feet to the ground. Danny followed behind in lazy twists and curls like a leaf in the wind.

They caught up with the curse ghost on the next block over. It ran through the street, a mangy goopy dog, as tall as a truck with too-sharp teeth. As it passed lights in doorways flickered and went dark, cars honked in the streets as drivers cut each other off, the cops on the corner stopped a group of teens with hands itching at their hips.

Jason felt it too, the way that whisky burns down your throat, riling you at your core.

“Ooh it’s a real nasty one,” Danny quipped. Was it Jason’s imagination or were his teeth even sharper than usual?

So far Jason had only encountered the beasts in places already filled with death and fear and aggression. It made his skin crawl to see the effect work the other way. The beast crashed through the street like an invisible wave, spreading misfortune, inciting aggression. He tasted acid at the back of his throat.

Danny had told him the curse caused suffering and then fed on it, a cycle that perpetuated ending with it getting stronger and stronger. All at the expense of Gotham. It struck Jason as blunt as a crowbar to the side. No matter what he did as Red Hood, no matter what any of the bats did— peace in Gotham had less than a snowball’s chance in hell. Not with these beasts running wild.

He ran after it wordlessly, Danny by his side. They followed the trail of misfortune through the streets of crime alley and then into downtown proper. Jason had half a though about truces and territories made with Batman in where he could and could not operate, but any qualms blew past him as his vision tunneled on the beast.

Heat churned under his skin and he felt a swell of rage despite the fact that Danny still kept pace beside him. This rage wasn’t sharp and bright like the rage he intimately knew, instead it burned oily and black.

They rounded a corner and real heat smacked him in the face. Ahead of them a building burned vigorously, flames eating their way out windows on every floor. He watched as the curse ghost dove through the open front door into the inferno.

“Shit,” Danny hissed beside him. “I’m going in.”

Without further warning Danny disappeared, presumably diving in after the beast.

The rage still burning in his gut egged Jason on to follow. Then, a cry from above. In the window, two kids framed by an orange inferno. Below on the street other people covered in soot pointed up, desperation in their voices.

Sense snapped back to him like an ice bath, priorities set. He strode toward the building and launched a grapple line, zipping up to the window.

“Grab on tight.” He hoisted two little girls off the windowsill and they followed his instruction, clinging to his midsection. He lowered them all down just as a loud crack came from the building above as the beams began to burst.

As he set the girls on the ground the older one spoke up, her voice barely a squeak. “Our brother-“

Fuck. Jason looked back up. The window frame was nearly devoured in flame. Fuck.

The wail of sirens echoed steadily closer, but not fast enough. He couldn’t just rush in unscathed like Danny had, he wasn’t wearing the jacket that made him intangible (supposedly, he hadn’t yet made it work all the way). But he still had to do something. He gripped his grapple gun and steeled himself.

And then Danny shot out of the second story window like a comet, landing haphazardly beside Jason. Around his neck, wrapped safely within his arms, was a little boy.

The sisters cried out with joy and Danny passed the boy to them, dazed and soot covered but still breathing. Danny smiled up at Jason, ashes tangled in the mess of his black hair.

“Red Hood?”

Shit. He would recognize that voice even if he were still dead.

“Batman.” Jason turned and saw his former mentor illuminated in firelight.

Fire trucks and EMTs arrived moments later, tending to the civilians and doing what they could against the blaze. Out of the corner of his eye Jason saw a flash of the iconic red and yellow on the roof. Robin was deploying some kind of fire extinguishing smoke bombs from above.

“What happened here?” Batman was never one to mince words. Still, Jason didn’t appreciate the accusatory undertone.

“Isn’t a guy allowed to save a few kids from a burning building once in a while?” He retorted.

“You’re outside of Crime Alley. Any particular reason?”

“W—“ he glanced over his shoulder. Danny was nowhere to be seen. Good. “I was just passing through. Helped how I could. But now it seems like you and Gotham’s finest have got it handled so I’ll be on my way.”

“Wait—“

Jason in fact did not wait. He shouldered his way past running firemen and slipped deeper into the shadows behind the crowd. He remembered the invisibility cuffs and with a bit of focus he made extra certain Batman couldn’t follow.

He waited till he was safely back inside the streets of crime alley (he chuckled to himself that anyone could think of these streets as safe) before he dropped the invisibility.

He found Danny waiting for him on top of their hotel.

“You okay?” Danny asked as Jason sat next to him on the edge of the roof.

“Fine.”

“Sorry I bailed so quickly, I-“

“Batman can not find out about you,” Jason interrupted. Meta or not, Batman wouldn’t be pleased if anyone as powerful as Danny was roaming around Gotham unchecked. If Bruce saw him, if he got any sense of his capabilities, he’d certainly confront him, or worse.

“Yeah, exactly, way ahead of you,” Danny breathed. “The Dark Knight is not on the list of heroes I’d like to meet.”

Jason hummed in the affirmative, satisfied.

“You get the curse ghost?”

“What? Oh, no. Forgot about him as soon as I saw there were still people. in the building. I think I got them all out before the B man showed up.”

“You’re a hero then. Or vigilante.”

“Was. I’m retired.”

“You don’t seem retired to me.”

“It’s complicated.”

In truth Jason had been relieved when Danny flew out of the building with that kid. Relieved for the kid of course, but equally relieved that Danny had chosen the civilians over the curse ghost. It meant that maybe he was just as altruistic as he claimed to be.

“So are these ghosts better or worse than the ones in Amity Park?” Jason ventured, pushing what trust he’d built.

Danny stiffened at the mention of Amity Park.

“I never mentioned Amity.” A hint of dangerous green glinted behind his eyes. Jason swallowed.

“I know. I was curious.” He replied, as breezy as possible. Like he hadn’t spent hours scouring through old records and obscure blogs to even get this scrap of information.

Danny pressed his lips together. “I haven’t been back in a long time.”

“Not even to see your parents?” Jason was getting reckless now.

“No.” Hard and cold as stone. “They’re not there anymore.”

Noted. Fenton parents were a subject to avoid with Danny. And a subject he would need to redouble his research on.

“And yeah. All ghosts are similar everywhere. Aside from the Curse Ghosts.” Danny offered, the chill fading from the air.

Getting info off of him was easy if Jason asked the right questions. Figuring out the questions was the hard part.

“How did they even get here then? The Curse Ghosts.” Jason asked. “Is there a portal close by?” Portal like the one the Fentons may or may not have created, like the one that supposedly killed Danny.

“No, they’re special. They form here in Gotham, no portal necessary,” came Danny’s unguarded reply. His gaze was far off, down into the streets like he could see them there.

“Actually,” Danny got that conspiratorial look as he turned to Jason, “Come with me.”

“Iʼve been trying to find a pattern for where the curse ghosts show up.” Danny sat at the messy desk in his apartment. Jason leaned over his shoulder as he pointed to a map on an outdated monitor.

It was Gotham, with red points dotting various locations. Jason recognized a few as locations theyʼd fought Curse Ghosts together but there were dozens more spots that Jason hadnʼt been at.

“Crime Alley is one obvious hot spot. Plenty of misery here to feed off of. But also— here by the docks, in the business district, by city hall, at Arkham.”

“So, anywhere.” Jason deadpanned.

Danny shot him a look. He clicked a key and another layer of dots showed up on the map.

“News stories of note- strange deaths, corruption, theft. Thereʼs always a surge after a beast shows up.”

“Seems obvious. And unhelpful.”

Danny huffed. “Yeah, well, usually one of your seventeen resident vigilantes shows up and restores order before things get too bad. Starves ‘em out a bit, unlike the big fish we were after tonight. But this is still helpful to get a bead on those to avoid real disasters.”

Jason studied the map layered with articles. “There has to be a way to predict where they’ll form.”

Danny hit a few keys and tossed him a thumb drive. “Knock yourself out.”

Danny leaned back in his chair. He looked tired.

Jason changed the subject. “So what do you study?”

“Huh?”

He gestured to the GU hoodie and various homework-esque bits around the room.

“Oh. Mechanical Engineering,” Danny replied with limited enthusiasm. “What about you? You go to school?”

“Not since I died.” Jason replied. Danny winced. “But itʼs okay. Not really my scene.”

“Oh cmon. There must be something youʼd want to study.”

“Maybe- no. Itʼs stupid.” Jason sat down on the arm of the sofa- the one that was still mostly intact.

“They have all sorts of weird degrees you can do now. You could do Crimonogy. Physicology. Extreme weightlifting with a minor in anthropology.”

“Or Literature.”

“What?” The corners of Danny’s mouth quirked up as he turned toward Jason.

“You know- the classics. Novels. The poets. That kind of stuff.”

Dannyʼs face curled into a smile. “Didnʼt peg you for the type.”

“You donʼt know me.” Jason was thankful the helmet hid the heat rising to his face.

“Touché.”

“Why mechanical engineering?” Jason countered.

“My grades were so shit in high school it was kind of a fall back.” Jason raised a doubting eyebrow.

“No really,” Danny continued, “I grew up around my parents tinkering. I couldnʼt help but pick it up. Much easier than studying Literature.”

“But do you actually like it?”

He shrugged. “Iʼm good at it. Isn’t that basically the same thing?”

Jason snorted. “Not at all. You still get to choose.”

Danny turned away, hiding his face. The silence stretched on for a long moment. Then, “So why are you a crime lord instead of a literature professor?”

Jason considered the question. Truthfully it hadn’t considered doing anything but what he did. This life he lived felt a bit inevitable. On his worst days maybe he’d considered giving up, but then his anger would always come snarling back. Anger at Bruce, anger at the Joker, anger at Gotham itself. Fighting was his only reprieve.

Or so he thought, before he met Danny. Before the irrationality of his rage had been doused completely for the first time since his death. For the first time it felt like he had room to consider. Room to choose.

“Gotham needs someone like me. As soon as it doesn’t you can catch me in the lecture hall teaching Jane Eyre.”

Danny considered him with a hint of a smile. “I’ll be sure to register for that credit when you do.”

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dp dc crossover #danny phantom #red hood #fanfic #fanfiction #dc x dp #dp x dc fic #red knight fic #jason todd #I finished this on my phone on a beach so pls excuse any wonkiness

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cinebration · 9 months

Text

Dogfight Preview (Pete “Maverick” Mitchell x Reader) [One-shot]

Premise: Maverick gives a lesson on dogfighting.

Warnings: none

Gif Source: unicornships

“You’re Maverick.”

Maverick glanced up from the perspiring beer bottle in his hands and squinted against the sunlight. You resolved suddenly into focus as you stepped into the light, relieving him of the blinding rays.

“Yeah, that’s me,” he answered, frowning. “Can I help you?”

“I hope so.”

Maverick leaned back in his seat and took stock of you, the furrow in his brow deepening. You wore a black shirt, your flight suit unzipped and tied around your waist. He couldn’t read your expression as you met his gaze.

“I need help in dogfighting,” you said, as though picking up that his appraisal was over. “You’re the best dogfighter here.”

Maverick couldn’t help the faint smile that touched his lips. “I just have experience.”

“Hence why I’m here asking.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think I’m allowed to do one-on-ones.”

“I could get Admiral Simpson’s authorization.” You glanced over your shoulder at the crashing waves along the shoreline. “Although I doubt he’ll like being bothered with this.”

Anything with Maverick’s name attached was likely to stick in Cyclone’s craw, that much was certain. Maverick followed your gaze out over to the surf, attention arrested occasionally by the swoop and dive of seagulls.

“You’re not part of the team,” he stated carefully.

“Not right now, no. But getting trained by a legend would certainly help that.”

Nodding, Maverick pushed himself out of his chair. “Why the hell not? I haven’t been up in the air today yet.”

A sharp smile spread over your face, the kind Maverick had seen on some of the most eager pilots—himself included. He smiled back, crossing the sand with you wordlessly.

This will be fun, he thought.

Forty minutes later, you both were up in the air. Maverick stayed low and behind you, glancing up through the cockpit to see your bird’s silhouette up against the bright blue sky.

“Are you a book learner or a hand’s on learner?” he asked.

Your voice came through the headset with a faint metallic background. “Sir?”

“Is it better if I talk you through it or if I show you?”

A few seconds of silence.

“Show me,” you answered.

Maverick swore he heard a challenge in your voice.

Alright, you asked for it.

Pulling hard on the throttle, Maverick climbed hundreds of feet through the air, bee-lining straight toward you.

He streaked past your wing, the sudden displacement of air nearly sending you rolling.

“Fight’s on,” he declared, swinging back around.

“Clearly,” he heard you mutter over the radio.

He chuckled.

Maverick moved to get behind you. You veered off, slipping just out of his targeting system.

“Not bad,” he said. “But I was going easy on you.”

“Oh, really?”

In answer, Maverick accelerated, the jet screaming as it followed his lead. He whipped around, his nose almost aligned with you. His targeting system fought hard to center on the box.

You pulled up hard, flying straight into the sun.

A smirk pulled at his lips. Not bad at all.

He caught you decelerating and dropping altitude in an attempt to slide under his belly and come out behind him. Mirroring you, he fell back behind you, the targeting system once again searching frantically for the box on your back.

You dropped out of the sky.

“Holy shit.” Maverick craned his head through the window of the cockpit, trying to catch you beneath him. “Haven’t seen that in a while.”

He pulled up sharply, looping back to force you ahead of him and to give him a chance to glimpse you in the sky. You were just underneath him, almost down to the hard deck. He gunned the throttle as you zipped forward, bringing his nose around.

You rolled.

The dogfight lasted for twenty minutes before Maverick finally got tone.

“Gotcha,” he murmured, smiling into his mask.

You slowed down in defeat, the radio silent on your end.

“How was that?”

“Informative,” you answered.

He frowned and watched you break off, heading back to base. A moment later, he followed.

Maverick crossed the tarmac to you as you climbed out of the cockpit and tore off your helmet. It was jet black, angled away from him so he couldn’t see if you had earned a call sign yet.

“That was good,” he said. “Are you sure you’ve never done this before?”

“I never said I hadn’t done it before,” you answered carefully. “I just needed the practice.”

“Well, you’ve got a pretty strong foundation, I’ll give you that.” He cleared his throat. “Listen, I have a demonstration tomorrow morning. Me and another TOPGUN hotshot are gonna show the rookies how it’s done. You should come watch, maybe learn a few things.”

He held his breath.

You flashed a smile at him. “I’ll be there.”

“Great.”

Nodding, you waved goodbye and strode off in the direction of the hangers. Hondo crossed the tarmac in the opposite direction, heading to Maverick. He paused as you passed him, exchanged a few words and a laugh.

Maverick frowned.

“You know her?” he asked when Hondo could hear him.

“Sure, that’s Reaper.”

“Reaper?”

“Yeah.”

“How’d she earn that name?”

“You never see her coming until it’s too late.”

He thought back to the dogfight. “Doesn’t seem too accurate.”

“Were you guys planning for tomorrow?”

Maverick faced Hondo. “What?”

“For tomorrow’s demonstration.” Hondo’s eyebrows knitted together. “You know you’re fighting her tomorrow, right?”

Maverick’s gaze whipped across the tarmac to you as you disappeared into a hanger. “She was testing me,” he muttered. “She probably wasn’t even really flying.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” A grin of disbelief split his lips. “Just that tomorrow is gonna be fun.”

#Pete “Maverick” Mitchell x Reader #Pete “Maverick” Mitchell #Pete “Maverick” Mitchell imagine #Maverick x Reader #Maverick #Maverick imagine #Pete Mitchell x Reader #Pete Mitchell #Pete Mitchell imagine #Tom Cruise x Reader #Tom Cruise #Tom Cruise imagine #Top Gun: Maverick #Top Gun Maverick #TGM

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ganseybois · 2 months

Note

eddie and chris having a whole convo about tommy, and then eddie's feelings realization when chris starts talking about buck after in comparison (bonus: buck walks into the house and overhears)

thank you for the prompt! i hope you like it :) you can request one here!!

Eddie smiles tenderly as Chris recounts the time he spent with Tommy, while Eddie was out doing groceries. In the forty-five minutes that he had been gone, it seemed like he had a lot to say on the matter, going on and on about how fun he is, and how awesome he is, and how much Chris loves spending time with him.

"I'm glad you like him, kid," Eddie chuckles, moving around in the kitchen while Chris works on his homework at the table. "He's pretty cool."

"Well, not as cool as Buck, but yeah, pretty cool." Christopher agrees.

"You shouldn't compare Chris." he replies, looking over his shoulder. He's in the middle of making them enchiladas, which Chris is weary about, but Eddie is determined to make just right. Buck is coming over for dinner, and Eddie really wants to impress him.

Once, Frank asked him why it was so important to do these little things for Buck, the way Buck does for him. Eddie remembers feeling uncomfortable about the question - he doesn't know why that comes to mind right now.

"I'm just saying," Chris mumbles - Eddie hears a noise, making him frown, but Chris continuing his chatter makes him think he imagined it. "I really like that you have a new friend, cause you need them but-"

"Hey!"

"-buuutt," he stresses. "I don't want you to forget about Buck. I already miss him."

"I won't," Eddie promises, as if it were even possible. The idea of being without Buck is just about the worst thing Eddie could think of. Those times in the hospital, when Eddie didn't know if he would live or die...Eddie still has nightmares about it. "Buck is part of our family, that'll never change." He's warm just thinking about it - Buck is comfort. Buck is easy. Buck is knowing that no matter what he does, Buck will be waiting for him.

You're avoiding your feelings, Eddie, Frank says in his head.

"Well, you're with Tommy 'cause he does things with you that Buck doesn't, right? But Buck does a lot else for us, and he really loves us."

Sometimes, Chris will come at Eddie with these types of sentences and he never knows what to say back. The thing about kids, no matter their age, was that they were so honest. That type of honesty made Eddie uncomfortable.

Frank again, and why is that, Eddie?

"I know he does," Eddie says quietly. "You know I love him too."

"More than Tommy?"

Eddie sighs and turns around, looking at him.

"Of course more than Tommy. Buck is..."

Looking at his son, he opens his mouth and is about to say something about friendship, something about how there are different kinds of friends, and that's okay. But Chris' eyes undo something in him, and all Eddie thinks in his head is...I love Buck more than anyone but you, Chris.

Frank taps his pen on his notepad, irritated, What is Buck to you, Eddie?

Everything.

Eddie feels his chest constrict with uncomfortable realization - Chris looks at him strangely, not satisfied with an open-ended answer, but sighs, seeing that this conversation may not go further, and gets up from the table, grabbing his book to make it to his room. When the door shuts, Eddie sighs, going back to his cooking. He barely has a moment to process the fact that he's just admitted to having very big feelings about his best friend when-

"You gonna finish that sentence?"

Eddie whips around, eyes widening when he sees Buck standing there with a six-pack. He's looking at Eddie with such an endearing, soft look, gently placing the beer down on the table. He almost looks sad - Eddie knows that he's heard everything he's said to Chris without having to ask. He can see it in his eyes.

"You're early," Eddie says stupidly.

Buck laughs a little. "Well, I haven't been able to spend much time with you lately, seeing as you've been with Tommy so much."

"Buck, come on," Eddie laughs, turning back around. His hands shake a little as he goes back to chopping something, he has to take extra care to not cut off a finger. "He's just a friend. It's no big deal."

"Eddie,"

Eddie sighs and turns, backing up against the counter when he sees how close Buck is to him.

He's not an idiot - he isn't blind to how Buck has been acting lately. But now, with his own feelings at the forefront of his mind, and Buck standing so close to him, he is afraid.

What are you afraid of, Eddie?

Eddie's eyes glance down at Buck's lips for a quick moment, before they meet his eyes again.

"I'm going to say something to you," Buck says, his eyes soft, vulnerable. Asking Eddie to do the same for him. "I've been...kinda trying to get your attention for the last couple of days."

Eddie grins, "You're about as subtle as a car crash, Buck."

"With Maddie's help though," he continues with a smile, spurred on by Eddie's sarcasm. "I realized why. And it's about a whole lot more than feeling like you'd replace me."

"Buck, I'd never--you're..." Eddie puts a hand where it always goes, right by Buck's neck, feeling his pulse. He does that often, to remind himself that Buck is here, in front of him, alive. Because once, for three minutes and seventeen seconds, he wasn't.

Buck smiles sadly, putting a hand over Eddie's. "If you can't finish the sentence, Eddie, then I don't think--"

"You're everything," he whispers. "Everything Buck." And then he moves forward and kisses him.

As far as kisses go, it's the best one that Eddie Diaz has ever had. It's gentle, the kitchen bathed in soft light, Buck's hand still over Eddie's. Eddie swears that he feels Buck's pulse skip a beat.

Buck's lips are so pleasantly soft against his as they move, and Eddie feels himself release a shaky breath into the kiss, not quite being able to believe that this is even happening.

He pulls away, looking at Buck from under his lashes.

Buck smiles, tugging Eddie in for a hug, and Eddie hugs him back tightly.

"Sorry it took me so long." Eddie whispers.

"It's okay," Buck whispers back. "We're here now."

#911 #buddie #buddie fic #buddie prompt #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #prompt

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bella-rose29 · 4 months

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Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - part 10

gingerbread competition (part 2)

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: SOMEONE GETS BITCH-SLAPPED, swearing, references to body image issues, references to eating disorders (very vague but still), uhh idk if there's anything else tbh

series masterlist

(the second photo will make sense when you get to the end I promise)

“There’s forty-five minutes left on the timer!” Ben called, making sure that everyone in both the kitchen and the adjoining dining room could hear him.

Shrieks of joy and muttered curses split the air, covering up the music they had playing softly in the background, but Y/n and her Gramps remained mostly silent. Both were working hard to decorate and join together the many pieces of gingerbread they had laid out before them (which they had managed to put in the fridge for a little while to cool them down so that the icing didn’t melt), and currently Y/n was holding the walls of their building together as her Gramps glued them with icing. “There,” he said as he pulled the piping bag away, sitting back slightly after being hunched in his chair in concentration. “Right. Let’s put the roof on next, and then you can start doing all that fancy decorating you normally do.”

She could feel Steph watching her while she worked, a smug smile visible on her cousin’s face even out of the corner of Y/n’s eye, but she paid her no mind. Whatever happened, she wouldn’t get the better of Y/n and Anthony, and she had to hope that her family sided with the two of them and not Steph. Besides, she and her Gramps had to win this competition, just so that she could hold it over Anthony’s head for the rest of their lives, and that required total concentration.

Unfortunately, if she so much as glanced directly in front of her, she was met with the sight of his hands.

He was holding a piping bag like her Gramps was, tracing the lines of the gingerbread that he and Nana Jean had baked and were now bringing together, and she had a sneaking suspicion that he had sat opposite her deliberately because he now knew how much she looked at his hands. She flushed at the memory of him leaning down to whisper in her ear not too long ago, and cleared her throat as she returned her attention to her own gingerbread.

“OI!” Sam shouted from the kitchen, making her startle and nearly drop the pieces of gingerbread she was holding. Y/n whipped her head up to see Will cackling at the icing that now covered their brother’s face. “IT’S MEANT TO GO ON THE GINGERBREAD, YOU IDIOT!” Y/n’s mother intervened before Sam could chuck the dry icing sugar at Will in retaliation, and Y/n shook her head with a chuckle. She heard Anthony huff a laugh from his position across the table, and she looked up in time to meet his gaze. His smile was blinding, to the point she wanted to ask if she could borrow his sunglasses, and she realised that she could watch him smile all day and not get bored. Before she would have scoffed and told him to stop being so painfully fake, but there was nothing but true happiness in this smile. Normally his real smiles were small; the opposite of the ones he gave clients, because he was attempting to be somebody they could trust.

“What?” he asked, voice quiet but filled with amusement.

“Nothing,” she shrugged. “You just look happy, is all.” His resulting blush made her stomach flip.

“Oh.”

“You are so red right now, I hope you know that,” she mused, turning back to her gingerbread. Her Gramps had put the roof on, and it was safe enough to let go.

“Funnily enough I can feel how warm my face is, but thank you for pointing it out, Schmoopie.”

“Anthony.” Her tone held a warning.

“Sorry.”

“What did I say about calling me Schmoopie?”

“Sorry.”

She was smiling regardless.

~~~

“Ten minutes!”

Anthony wasn’t sure who had called the time, but Nana Jean didn’t seem to even notice. She was clearly on a mission, decorating the gingerbread house with pure concentration and very steady hands, and although he couldn’t actually see Y/n’s design (she’d put up some sort of makeshift wall a little while ago, claiming she didn’t want any cheating. Anthony thought it was more because she couldn’t stop looking at his hands) he had a good feeling that she wouldn’t be winning. He hadn’t been lying when he’d talked about his skills in the kitchen (even if it had come out sounding more like he was talking about his skills in the bedroom), and Jean had complemented his icing multiple times, making him feel warm inside.

Steph passed behind him and he tensed, waiting for her to attack in some way, but she kept on walking and he let out a shaky breath. He wasn’t scared exactly, but knowing that in a very short amount of time everybody in the house would know that he and Y/n had been lying to their faces was making his heart beat a little faster. When Nana Jean smiled at him again after he finished decorating another section of the house he realised that he wasn’t scared that they would find out, but more that he would lose the family he had made here. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to handle them reacting negatively and wanting him out of their house and lives, and while he would have Y/n and his friends back in London he would always feel something missing when he thought about this place.

“Alright, nearly done now. Those losers won’t know what’s hit them!” Nana Jean whispered gleefully, triumph already shining in her eyes. Anthony chuckled, readjusting the piping bag in his grip and holding back a snort when he caught Y/n staring again. “She really cares about you, you know.” He looked back at Jean, surprise clear on his face at the change in her tone. “I’ve not seen her this happy since she was a little girl, back before she went to London and saw the world for what it was.” He blushed again for the millionth time that day at Jean’s words, and she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Thank you. For bringing my granddaughter back to me.” He went to answer, but emotion made speaking difficult. God, he really hoped that Jean took Steph’s news well.

“I’d do anything to see her happy,” he choked out in the end, doing his best to not sound too strained. Knowing how differently she acted around her family compared to how she acted back at Portland Row, he realised that Jean could see it too. Steph and Linda had royally fucked with Y/n’s head, and here was her grandmother telling Anthony that he was undoing their cruelty and being her saving grace.

If either of them tried anything when Steph broke the news, he knew that he would not hesitate to drag them through the dirt for what they’d done to the girl he loved.

~~~

“Five! Four! Three! Two! One! Time is up! Everybody step away from your gingerbread!” Ben shouted, looking up from his watch. He and Olivia would judge the creations, and crown the winners for the year. So far Y/n and Will had the winning streak of five years in a row, but now they were on separate teams the title was free for anyone to take.

Well, not anyone. Steph and Linda had barely bothered with theirs, and most of it was still dough since they’d mixed the wrong proportions of ingredients and had refused to get their hands dirty. Looking around at her competition, Y/n felt confident that her and her Gramps’ house would win, even if she couldn’t actually see Nana Jean and Anthony’s because of the partition she had put up.

Her sister and father went around the room, tasting different gingerbread pieces and writing notes in their little notebooks, doing their best to remain neutral. They struggled when they got to Steph and Linda’s house though, and Olivia outright refused to even touch their uncooked gingerbread.

“Anthony and Nana Jean, this looks incredible!” Y/n’s father said as he approached their end of the table. Nana Jean snuck a smug look towards Y/n’s Gramps, and he just smiled in response, taking the barrier away so that the two of them could see what their respective partners had made.

She had to hand it to them, they’d done an excellent job.

It was a classic cottage-style house, complete with tiled roof icing patterns and carefully placed sweets acting as decoration, and given that Anthony had done most of the icing (and she’d seen his drawings on the thinking cloth) it was surprisingly neat. Now it was his turn to send a smirk in her direction, and Y/n was entirely professional and mature in her response and stuck her middle finger up at him.

Her father and Olivia tested the gingerbread, then scribbled down some notes in their books (Y/n was sure she could make out multiple exclamation points in her dad’s notes), and suddenly she could feel her heart beating much faster in her chest. Nana Jean was known for her gingerbread recipe and how good it was, and Y/n and her Gramps would have to beat them on presentation if they wanted to win. She wasn’t sure they would pull it off given how neat and generally amazing Anthony and Nana Jean’s house looked, and she swallowed thickly.

Ben and Olivia rounded the end of the table to stand on Y/n’s left, and she wiped her sweaty hands on her trousers. Her Gramps didn’t look worried in the slightest, and when Nana Jean peered over the table to get a look at what her opponents had done he let out a chuckle.

“Is that… is that our house?” Olivia asked as she stared at the creation. It had taken a lot of careful measuring from her Gramps, and then more measuring after the gingerbread had been baked, and then a lot of careful glueing and decorating, but the two of them had made a near exact replica of the house they were currently all stood in.

“Uh… yeah. We thought it would be nice to do, you know?” Y/n replied, glancing back at her Gramps. He was too busy wriggling his eyebrows at Nana Jean in triumph to notice.

“Well it looks perfect, love,” her dad said, and he quickly wrote something down in his book. Olivia nodded in agreement and clicked her pen to scribble down her thoughts, and then they were taking up the pieces of gingerbread that were separate from the main house to try it. Y/n held her breath, and beside her she felt her Gramps tense for the first time since the judging started. “Tastes perfect, too,” her father grinned, finishing the piece off and writing up the rest of his notes.

“Holy shi-”

“Language, Olivia,” her mother warned.

“Sorry, it’s just really good gingerbread.”

“So,” Linda piped up, “when do we find out who won? I’d like to go and sit down somewhere… clean, if you don’t mind.”

“Liv and I will have a chat while you guys clear up in here, and we’ll see you in the living room when you’re done?”

“Sounds good!” Steph exclaimed, and everybody looked at her in confusion at her chipper tone. She was already moving to tidy up, and Emma frowned at her niece’s actions. “Come on, we need to know the results!”

“Okay… but you know that you definitely haven’t won, right?” John said, staring at Steph while she moved over to the sink to start washing up.

“Oh, I know! It’s just that I’ve remembered something I wanted to tell everyone, but I thought it would be better to do it after the winner is announced!” Y/n felt her heart skip a beat or two in her chest, and she locked eyes with Anthony.

“Right… well, okay,” Emma said, and she started putting things in the dishwasher. “You two go and discuss then; we’ll tidy up.”

~~~

It took them seventeen minutes and thirty-two seconds to clear up, and Y/n knew that because she was checking her watch every ten seconds or so to find out how long they had until Steph fucked everything up.

Anthony came and walked next to her as they headed into the living room, and his hand brushed over her back gently in reassurance. “We’ll be alright, darling. The snow’s melting anyway, so it shouldn’t be too long until we can go home if it all goes wrong. Not that it will, I don’t think. Nobody likes Steph and everybody loves us, so we’ll be alright, yeah?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. Ugh, I hate this. I just wish she’d do it now and get it over with.”

“I need to be crowned winner first, darling,” he teased, sitting down on their loveseat. Y/n made sure to not bother with being careful about crushing him when she sat down on top of him, and snorted at the groan he let out when she did so.

“Aw, Schmoopie, it’s adorable that you think you’ve beaten me.” She reached back and pinched his cheek, laughing when he glared at her.

“Right!” Ben declared, moving into the centre of the room. Olivia held the plastic crowns that they had bought from a cheap fancy dress shop years ago, back when the competition had first started. They had to be put back in the fancy dress box when the day was over, but the winners got bragging rights for a year. “In third place!” They didn’t bother with placing everyone since nobody really cared much about that, and Y/n saw her family all sit up a little bit more in their seats while they waited to hear who had placed where. “Drum roll please… Will and Sam! Although they did end up with considerably more gingerbread mix on them than everyone else, their design of St. Paul’s Cathedral was ambitious and mostly executed!” Y/n thought that was a generous description of the gingerbread building that her brothers had made, given it had fallen over after about three minutes.

“It was a very close call between first and second place, with our two teams being Anthony and Nana Jean, and Y/n and Richard!” Olivia chimed in, and Y/n felt Anthony tense behind her. She shared a look with her Gramps, and he gave her a nod that said ‘we’ve won, I know it’.

“In first place, and taking the crown for this year’s gingerbread competition,” Ben said, his voice a little quieter so that everybody had to lean in to hear him. “Can I get another drum roll, please?” Everyone obliged, even Steph and Linda (although the latter did roll her eyes and pretended to gag), and Y/n could have sworn that nobody was breathing. “Y/n and Richard! Congratulations, you two!”

She took a moment to process her father’s words, and then another moment to process her sister handing over the plastic crown, and then a third moment to process Anthony groaning in frustration behind her.

Then she promptly turned around to face her boyfriend, pointed in his face, and said “HAHA!”

“Yeah, yeah. Alright, darling. You win.” He didn’t look too cut up about it, a soft smile gracing his features, and Y/n planted a quick kiss on his lips. “I think your Gramps is more smug than you are, to be honest.” She looked behind her at her grandparents just in time to see her Gramps get up and start doing some sort of victory dance. Nana Jean had her head in her hands, but Y/n knew she was smiling beneath it.

“Oh yeah, Steph?” Sam spoke up once the crowns were situated on the winners’ heads and people had calmed down a little. “What did you wanna tell everyone?”

“Yes! Well, I think I should first of all give Anthony and Y/n a chance to explain first, unless they would rather I did it?” Steph’s smile was sharp, and there was an icy fire dancing in her eyes. Y/n froze under the weight of it, and suddenly breathing was hard. Anthony slipped his arms further around her waist, and before she could even begin to think of what to say, he was talking for her.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about, Steph,” he said, perfectly falling into the role he needed to play. He tilted his head slightly in mock confusion, and Steph’s smile only grew.

“What’s going on?” Will asked, chewing on a piece of gingerbread he’d nabbed from the kitchen. “What’s it got to do with them?” He cast a glance towards them, and Y/n knew that if nothing else she’d have him on her side. He already knew about what Steph was going to say anyway, and he’d given his full support.

“They faked the whole relationship!” Steph exclaimed, spreading her arms out as she laughed. She was met with silence while people took in her words, and then Emma laughed herself. “I can prove it!”

“Oh, Steph, you don’t need to!” Emma chuckled. “We know.”

“Wait what?” Y/n said, sitting up straight in shock.

“It was very painfully obvious that you two can’t stand each other,” her mother continued. “Although something must have happened at some point, because the weird tension is gone.” Y/n’s mouth was hanging open, and she looked around at her gathered family. Steph’s eyes were practically bulging out of her head.

“Did… did all of you know?!” Scattered nods and murmured agreements were given in reply. “Why did nobody say anything?!”

“Because it was funny to watch you try to fool everyone and fail!” Steph cried, still trying to have the advantage.

“No,” Nana Jean said, her tone harsh. “It’s because we didn’t want to make it awkward. I mean, you brought your boss to your family’s christmas gathering to play the role of the boyfriend, and if we’d told you we had that figured out after the first day, then what would we have done?!”

“Hang on, the first day?!”

“It was rather obvious, love,” her Gramps added on with a shrug. “You looked downright murderous when you looked at him. Emma’s right though, something did change.”

“Yeah, they made out,” Will said, not looking up from where he sat in the corner eating. Somehow he’d found more food, and when everybody stared at him he finally glanced up. “What? Y/n/n came and told me all about it!”

“Not all about it, Will! I told you the vague outline of what had happened! And if you knew since the first day then why the hell did you act so confused?!”

“Oh, I genuinely didn’t know.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Nah, it’s alright.” Anthony hadn’t said a word the whole time, and for a moment Y/n was worried he’d passed away from embarrassment or something.

“Why is nobody laughing about this?!” Steph shouted, growing crazed. “Y/n couldn’t get a boyfriend so she had to force someone to pretend?! I mean,” she scoffed, “it’s ridiculous, and it’s sad! She’s too fucking fat and ugly to get a real one, and-”

“That is enough, Stephanie.” Anthony’s hands started moving Y/n off of his lap, and then he was standing up and glaring at her cousin with more hatred than Y/n had ever seen in his eyes before. “I have repeatedly told you that Y/n is better than you, and that you are a horrible person, and if I am never allowed back here because of this then so be it, but you do not get to continue your behaviour. I don’t know how many more times I can tell you to stop bullying Y/n before it finally gets through your thick skull, but you need to stop. She’s a completely different person around you because you make her feel awful and like she’s not good enough, and I am sick of it, because she doesn’t deserve it! You are the one who is being ridiculous and sad, because you can’t get over yourself and see that nobody cares!” His chest was heaving by the time he finished, and he’d been gesturing wildly as he spoke. Y/n couldn’t help but feel a burst of pride at how quickly he’d jumped to defend her.

“It’s not my fault!” Steph tried, but she was cut off before she could continue.

“What’s not your fault?” Y/n said, standing up and moving next to Anthony. “What’s not your fault, Steph? Because Ant’s right. I am a different person around you, because you make me feel like I’m not enough. Like I’m not pretty enough, or skinny enough, or just enough in general, and I end up starving myself to stop you talking crap about me whenever I come here!” She tried to ignore the weight of her family’s gazes as she carried on, knowing she had never outright mentioned any of this before. She doubted any of them had noticed what had been happening right under their noses. “I hate seeing you, Steph, because I know that I’m just going to end up crying myself to sleep or locking myself in the bathroom because of what you say, or how you look at me when I put just a little too much food on my plate, which, actually, isn’t that much food! It’s a normal amount for a person to eat to be healthy! And Ant’s right when he says that you’re the one being ridiculous and sad, because you are. I am done acting differently because you think I’m not good enough, and I am done crying over you, because you are not worth a single tear I have.” Despite her words, she could feel her throat closing up with emotion and tears threatening to fall, but that wasn’t because of Steph. It was more to do with the fact that she had finally stood up for herself and pushed back the way she should have done years ago. Anthony put his arm around her waist, bringing her into his side, and Steph was eerily quiet.

“You bitch.”

Y/n scoffed. “For telling you the truth? Sure. I’m the bitch in this situation.” Steph launched herself at Y/n then, and if she hadn’t trained as an agent to have lightning-fast reflexes she would have been punched in the jaw.

As it was, she and Anthony split, stepping to the side so that Steph fell face first into the carpet.

“I hate you!” she screamed, pushing herself up. Before she could even try another attack, a resounding crack echoed around the room, and then Steph was holding her cheek in shock as she stared at Y/n. “You hit me,” she said incredulously. Y/n’s hand stung slightly, but it was worth it.

“Yes, I did. Well done for noticing.” Anthony huffed a laugh beside her, and he had to cover his mouth with his hand to stop the rest of his amusement escaping. Emma stepped forward, her face the picture of rage and fury.

“Linda, I think this is the perfect time to tell you that I don’t particularly enjoy having you around, and your daughter is an awful person. If I ever find either of you talking crap about either Y/n or me, as you so love to do, Linda, then I will personally kick you into the next century. I’d like you to go and pack your things, and you can find a place to stay in town.”

“You… you hit my daughter,” Linda said, staring at Y/n.

“She’s twenty, Linda. I think she can take it.” Anthony really couldn’t hold in his laugh at Y/n’s words, and he squeezed his eyes shut and hung his head, pressing his lips tightly together behind the hand that he’d had to put back over his mouth.

“We’ll be glad to go,” Linda started, casting a disdainful look at her sister. “At least in a hotel we’ll be appreciated!” Y/n highly doubted that anywhere would appreciate having Steph and Linda, but if it meant that the two of them weren’t near her then she wouldn’t complain.

“Good. Off you go, and pack your bags. I want you gone by mid-morning tomorrow.”

Linda and Steph fled the living room, the latter still clutching at her cheek, and their footsteps could be heard as they stomped upstairs. A door slammed, and then a second, and then there was silence.

“Now. I don’t know… I don’t know what the correct response is to all of this is,” Emma said, her voice softening as she turned back to Anthony and Y/n. “But Anthony, I hope you know we’re not mad at you. Either of you, actually. Steph was awful, she has been for years, and I’m sorry that I never did anything before now.”

“It’s okay, Mum-”

“No, it’s not. I’m your mother and I wasn’t doing my job properly. Mostly I’m just glad that you and Anthony have each other,” she smiled. Y/n looked up at her boyfriend and smiled too, feeling her face heat up when he brought his arm around her torso again and pressed a small kiss to her temple.

“You’re really not upset that I faked a relationship with my boss and lied to all of you?”

“Nope,” Will piped up from the corner, somehow still finding food to eat even though he hadn’t moved. “It’s been a great source of entertainment, actually. Especially since I know now that you didn’t like each other all the times we made you kiss.”

“Will, I don’t think that’s really something to be proud of,” Ben said, glancing at his son.

“It’s funny though,” he shrugged, wiping up the remains of whatever had been in the bowl he was eating out of. “Anyway, now that you’re actually together, it doesn’t matter, does it?”

“I guess not,” Y/n said, and Anthony’s grip on her waist tightened for a moment. She could feel him smiling into her hair.

“Well, that’s all sorted then!” Nana Jean exclaimed, clapping her hands together once and standing up. “Who wants tea?”

part 11

Tag list: @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @anthgoldenhrry, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @aysha4life, @bobbys-not-that-small, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @imaginebeingmentallystable, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @lady-ashfade, @light-23, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @magicandrosewaters, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @reggiepeterss, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whistle1whistle, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @y0urm0m12, @zoom1374, @asyouwish-fromcabin3, @magicandrosewaters, @bobbys-not-that-small

desperately hoping this is everyone, but as always just let me know if you want to be added/removed (or if I forgot you) and I'll do that as soon as I can! <3

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader #deck the halls (and not your partner)#enemies to lovers #fake dating #christmas

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agustd-png · 5 months

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Young K: One Door Away [Part 2]

i truly cannot believe it's been almost 2 years since i posted the first part of this! 😬 it makes me incredibly happy to hear that you all enjoyed it so much, all my younghyun stories hold special places in my heart, so i'm happy to continue this one and hope you all like it too 💗 (fyi there will be a part 3, this story's not over yet!!)

Younghyun x Fem Reader. Smut (office coworkers, mutual pining). 5.3k

[Part 1]

You blinked your tired eyelids, a heavy sigh pushing itself out as you stretched and waited for your vision to adjust. You saw a pile of clothes on the chair next to your head: black men's dress pants, a sleek blue tie, and a maroon blazer...your maroon blazer. Suddenly everything came back to you, and you remembered you were not in your own room. Your head whipped around and you saw Younghyun still asleep, the soft skin of his bare chest a lovely golden hue in the light of the morning sunrise that streamed in through the large hotel window. So it wasn't a dream. You really had slept with Younghyun, the man you'd been pining over for God knows how long. You sat up and a blush rushed through you when you remembered all the things you'd said and done to and with each other the night before. Not that you wanted to take them back, certainly not, but slightly embarrassing to think about nonetheless. Things you'd only fantasized about, kept locked in your head for so long, had become reality.

A mild panic took over your senses though, the more you thought (and over thought). What if he didn't really like you that much? What if he was just trying to fuck you? What if now that he had, he would drop you, not talk to you at work anymore? What if, what if, what if?

You felt Younghyun stir then, and glanced over at him again. He carded a hand through his tousled hair and smiled up at you. "Hello," he chuckled groggily.

"Hi." You smiled warmly back at him, happy to see that he seemed okay. Despite everything he'd told you the night before, you still couldn't help your self doubt. It wouldn't go away that easily, despite your thoughts last night that it would.

Younghyun stretched an arm out across the mattress, silently inviting you into the warmth of his embrace, and you couldn't resist the urge to lay back down with him. So you didn't.

You fell back onto your side and your heart skipped a beat when he pulled you in to kiss you. That certainly helped convince you he was really into you. You started to wonder at what point you wouldn't need that kind of reassurance, if ever, and sighed internally at yourself.

"What time is it?" He asked through a yawn. You'd both stayed up late, indulging in quite a few fantasies for longer than you originally anticipated.

"Eight fifteen," you answered.

"Ugh, we have to check out by nine."

Your heart sank a bit at the acknowledgement that your little trip was almost over. You'd have to go back to "the real world", to your complicated lives that were suddenly even more complicated, instead of this sort of oasis you'd created.

"Hm, so forty five minutes yet?" You smirked, climbing to your knees and moving to straddle him.

Younghyun chuckled, getting the idea, and rubbed at his still sleepy eyes. "I suppose so. What did you have in mind?"

"Dunno," you shrugged, but pulled the T-shirt you'd borrowed over your head, leaving you completely naked.

Younghyun smirked and shook his head, then lunged playfully at you, tumbling you onto your back and pinning you against the bed below him, sending a high-pitched giggle from you. He glanced down, drinking in the sight of your body, then back up to your eyes, making you blush again.

But his expression was one of warm comfort, his gaze more loving than lustful. Younghyun lowered himself to press his chest, pleasantly warm, to yours, skin against skin, and kissed you passionately, not pulling back until you were both breathless. His lips just fit so perfectly against yours, you didn't even care if you had morning breath.

"We really can't be too long," he said halfheartedly between little kisses now. "Gotta pack..."

"Yeah..." You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, really not wanting to face the rest of the world when this perfect moment was right here and now, so warm and cozy...

Younghyun kissed you again as his hands curved over your legs. They moved over your waist, your torso, groped at your breasts briefly, and ended at your jaw, cradling it. A long, dissatisfied sigh left him before he reluctantly pulled back, forcing himself to sit up and get the day started.

You sighed too and subconsciously pouted as you stretched, then got up as well, cool, air-conditioned air ruining the warm bed.

You felt how shaky your legs were when you tried to stand, and tumbled back onto the mess of sheets for a moment. Ruffling your tousled hair, that you were sure looked like an absolute wreck, you heard Younghyun snicker as he walked past you.

"This is all your fault, you know," you teased, calling towards him as he entered the bathroom.

He laughed heartily and came back out in a few seconds, toothbrush in hand. "Uh huh, and why's that?" He leaned against the wall near the bathroom and started brushing away, watching you stretch your sore muscles. You grabbed your own shirt off the chair and pulled it on.

"You're the one who wanted to keep going," you answered with a sly smirk, securing a couple of buttons on your shirt. "Maybe I wouldn't be so sore today if we'd stopped after the first couple rounds."

Younghyun pulled the brush from his mouth and spoke in a slightly muffled voice. "Oh right, like you didn't want to keep going too."

You were only teasing him, of course; you wanted to keep fucking him the night before just as much as he did, if not more so. And while, yes, your muscles did ache a bit today, it was well worth it, and you didn't regret your actions at all.

"Hmm, maybe," you quipped.

You glanced at the clock; 8:21 now. Sighing, you grabbed the rest of your stuff and remembered then that you had locked yourself out of your own room. You actually couldn't recall if you'd left the adjoining room door unlocked from your side or not. So you tried the door. It opened. So you must have. Wishful thinking must have swayed your actions; hopes that you would have a chance to have a night alone with Younghyun.

"Gonna shower and pack, I'll meet you at nine," you called to Younghyun, who acknowledged it positively.

So you did exactly that, doing your best to stay focused on your tasks, even though all you wanted to do was jump around your room giddily and hop back into bed with Younghyun. In the middle of packing, you heard your phone buzz, and checked it to see Hyerin had texted you.

Hyerin: updates pls?? 🤲

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the huge smile that crept across your face. You wanted to call her and gush about the night you'd had. But things were just starting out, and you didn't want to jinx it. Besides, you had things to do, and didn't want Younghyun overhearing your conversation.

You: tell you when i get home!

That should be good enough. You set your phone down but it buzzed again before you fully set it down.

Hyerin: so there are updates???

You ignored it, getting back to packing, but heard a few more buzzes over the next few minutes. You got a quick shower, got dressed, and when you were ready to go, it was nearly 9:00. You cleared away your text notifications from your lock screen, not bothering to read them right now, and headed out the door with your luggage. Younghyun met you in the hallway just a couple minutes later, the door locking behind him. You didn't see him in casual clothes too often, but he looked extra cute in his jeans and t-shirt.

"Alright, let's go," he said with a smile.

🚪

When you were both back at work Monday morning, things were different. You knew they would be, but you were nervously unsure of the ways they would be.

While most were positive, you were a realist, and still acutely aware of the fact that things could always go sour. And then you'd be stuck working together with that between you.

You'd talked with him on the plane ride home how you'd handle things at the office. You both agreed it was far too early to say you were dating (you hardly knew if that was even true yet, anyway). For now, to them, nothing had changed between you two. To your coworkers, you and Younghyun we also only coworkers.

But you found yourself smiling more. In a better mood.

The next day, Tuesday, you met in Younghyun's office to compile your notes, the connections you'd made and information you'd received while at the conference. His door closed behind you and your heart pounded harder, especially when you heard the lock quietly click. This was the first time you were alone with him since getting home. Lucky for you he didn't leave you hanging. The second he turned around he whisked you into his arms and kissed you for the first time since you'd returned from your perfect weekend.

"Sorry," he said with a happy sigh, pulling away. Kissing you at work; was it professional? No. But were you happy he did it? Of course. Besides, it's not like you could focus on work distracted by his presence. Letting off a little steam now and then was...a good thing then? Right?

That logic was good enough for you. You didn't let him go far before pulling him back into your arms, lips back on his. Younghyun relaxed against you, smiling against your lips and kissing you back, wrapping his arms as far around you as they would reach.

"We shouldn't...at work..."

He nodded in agreement but neither of you showed any indication of stopping. "I know."

You found yourself soon straddling Younghyun while he sat in his office chair, your skirt hiked up your thighs and one too many buttons on his shirt undone. It was taboo, it was unprofessional, and it was exactly what you'd been fantasizing about for months. Younghyun mouthed hungrily across your jaw and down your neck, his hands helping your hips rock against his. Everything was rushed, breathless, hot. You wrapped your arms around him, pressing your body into his touch, small whines making their way through your heavy breaths. Your hands carded through his hair as his mouth nipped at your collarbone, getting lost in how perfect it felt to be in his arms. Your hips were moving without his help now, rolling along his crotch, lust guiding your every action. You could feel Younghyun was getting hard but there was a part of you that was tied to reality, your rational brain pushing its way to the forefront. You reluctantly pulled back and though he instinctively moved towards you, you used your hands to physically push him back. Younghyun looked up at you expectantly, hair and clothes so gorgeously mussed.

"We can't do this here. Or, at least...I can't."

Younghyun swallowed hard and wiped his mouth that was a bit stained by your lipstick and nodded, pulling himself back up in his chair as you climbed off him. You stood in front of him, wanting so desperately to sit back down. But you really liked this job, and being here, in the moment, the paranoia that you might lose it broke through it all. But you didn't know if you could verbalize these feelings to Younghyun at the moment.

"I understand. It's totally fine." He cleared his throat and worked on retying his tie while you pulled your skirt back down. You sat into the chair on the other side of his desk and saw him adjust the tent in his pants. Ugh, leaving him like that felt cruel, to both of you. "I'll just...get off in the bathroom later," he said with a chuckle, smoothing his hair back into place.

"Sorry."

"No no, hey..." He waited for you to look at him. "I'm not gonna do anything you're not comfortable with. I promise."

Ughhhhh. Maybe...it wouldn't be a big deal if you did one or two things. Apparently Brennan and Sooin were doing it pretty often and they were still here. Why couldn't you let loose and have a little bit of your own fun?

You quickly undid a few buttons on your shirt as you walked back around to his side, and his brow furrowed, confused. "You don't need the bathroom." You sank to your knees and yanked at his belt, fumbling to undo it and his zipper, but he stopped you.

"Y/N, no." His hand held yours tightly and his voice sounded authoritative, which you were certain was not having the effect he intended. It only made you want him more. "I'm serious; I'm not letting you do something you're not comfortable doing."

"I know. I want to do this."

He studied your face, searching for any sign of wavering, but evidently he could tell you were fine, so he wordlessly let go of your hands and let them resume their task. Younghyun adjusted in his chair, helping you get his dick out, biting hard to his lip. Your heart pounded in your chest, a flush rushing through you when you had his length in your hands again. It grew harder in your grip, the veins trailing up it deliciously, the head red and starting to leak precum already. You watched his face as you dragged your tongue up the shaft, reveling in the way his mouth hung ajar. You swirled your tongue over the head then pulled it between your lips with a light moan. God, your mouth was simply watering. You heard the bustle of your office just outside his door, but you had found a way to bring the little slice of paradise you'd formed with him in Chicago back home. In the back of your mind you knew....there was no way this could be a regular occurrence. You'd have to do these things in the privacy of your own home, like everybody else (well, almost everybody else). And that was fine. Actually, that was more than fine, so long as Younghyun continued to be the one there with you. But for right now, this was perfect.

"God, your mouth feels so fucking good, " he murmured, not wanting to be too loud. His hand ran through your hair and gently pushed. Clearly he was impatient for more, perhaps worried about the time. You didn't waste any more time then, letting your jaw fall slack and taking in as much of him as you could, then hollowing your cheeks for suction. "Oh Y/N..." Younghyun breathed hard through his nose, teeth digging further into his reddened bottom lip. You worked your hand over the base of his length and bobbed your mouth over the rest, moving quickly, just wanting to see him cum. Besides, the longer you spent on this, the more turned on you were getting. You knew you didn't have the luxury of time for you both to get off.

"Want you to cum in my mouth, Younghyun." You moved quickly, pushing him on, coaxing him along to that exact endpoint, and you heard his breath catch. He gripped the black plastic arm of his office chair and let his head fall back.

"That's not gonna be hard, believe me."

You smiled to yourself, absolutely loving that you could seemingly have the effect on him that he had on you.

You felt the way he subtly thrust into your throat, the way the head of his cock bumped against the roof of your mouth, and you struggled to keep your hand out from under your own skirt. Your panties were stuck to your skin and simply ruined by now, and your clit throbbed for attention. You weren't sure how you'd make it through the rest of the day, but you knew you'd be having a busy night with your vibe when you got home. You heard your phone chime in your pocket with an email notification and rolled your eyes. It could wait.

"I'm gonna...I'm so close," he groaned. He brought his gaze back to yours and held it, intently watching you, pupils dark with lust. "Gonna cum in your mouth, baby..." Those last words drifted out of him dreamily, like he couldn't believe his luck. That tone made your heart warm and the words made your pussy throb.

"Mhmm," you encouraged, taking his length further into your throat, almost making you gag. But you pushed on, doing your best to breathe through your nose, and just when you were about to pull off for some much needed air, he pulled you off himself.

"I got it, I'm--I'm gonna cum." He leaned forward and his hand took the place of yours. You sat back, positioning your outstretched tongue right in front of him. "God, you're so good, so fucking good." His hand tugged at his cock so quickly, in mere seconds you felt his warm release hit your tongue, splatter across your lips. The sound he made when he hit his climax was like fucking music to your ears, and you were absolutely soaked at this point. You were sure if you walked out of his office at that moment anyone who passed you would be able to smell exactly how turned on he made you. Thankfully your office was right next door and the day was nearly over.

Younghyun held your chin in his palm and tilted it up, letting you look into his eyes. You could see the genuine appreciation in his eyes, even when they were clouded with lust. He leaned down and kissed you, letting his tongue mingle with yours, saliva and cum mixing messily and making you feel absolutely filthy. You wanted to feel like that every day.

Younghyun helped you to your feet and you kissed again, both of you having a hard time pulling away from each other's lips. "How 'bout we get this work done?"

He sighed and rebuckled his belt and zipped his pants back up. "Yeah, we really should."

It certainly was not easy, but you got your mind almost entirely back on track, though it was extra difficult when every time you moved you could feel a huge damp spot between your legs. But finally you finished your work with him and were done for the day.

This would work, right? You wondered to yourself again if you were making a mistake, involving yourself with a colleague like this. It was clearly distracting you, and you worried it would affect your career. You walked to your car, your mind full of anxious thoughts, but Younghyun's voice broke in, when you heard him calling your name.

You turned around and saw him lightly jogging to catch up with you.

"What are you doing tonight?"

"Um...just gonna eat dinner and watch some movies, I guess." And jerk off as many times as I can.

"If you want, I'd really like to take you to dinner, and also repay you for your, er...service." He smiled at you and you couldn't help but laugh at his phrasing. "Not necessarily in that order."

You blushed a bit and looked around, wondering if anyone saw you talking to him or heard him asking you out.

But you did want to go out with him. "Okay, yeah. That'd be nice." You smiled back and hitched your bag higher on your shoulder. "Time?"

"6:30?"

"Sounds good." You dropped your eyes, getting a bit shy at the idea someone you worked with could see or maybe even hear you. This wasn't what you'd talked about; you had planned to keep things quiet at work. Between an office blowjob and now him asking you out so blatantly...Could your plan already be going awry after only two days?

"I'll pick you up, just text me your address."

"Okay." You started to swerve away from him to make your way to your car, but his hand caught yours, stopping you.

"Wait, Y/N." You turned around, and you both had to move then to get out of the path of your coworker's car that was coming through. You instinctively yanked your hand out of his grasp and gave a little wave to your coworker as she passed. "Listen, I..." His voice dropped a bit so you knew only you could hear. "I know we've moved...pretty fast...physically." Younghyun cleared his throat and shifted his weight nervously. "But like I said the first night in my hotel room, I'm not usually so forward. And I don't usually, you know...do things like this. I don't want you to get the wrong idea. I just really like you."

You figured that was probably the case, especially because it was for you too. You so appreciated hearing him say that, though, as it helped immensely with your self doubt. But this was not the time nor the place. "I know, I'm not...really like this either, usually. We can talk about it more tonight. I'll see you at 6:30."

🚪

Younghyun picked you up right on time, and you felt almost giddy getting into the car. Outside of work, you could be normal, in a relationship like anybody else. You hopped into the car and gave him a big kiss that made him giggle, and you were off to your first official date with him.

He took you to your favorite restaurant and you had such a wonderful, relaxing evening. You connected with him so well, he was able to make your anxieties about work the furthest thing from your mind.

"I still have to repay you for this afternoon," he noted as he took another bite of his steak.

You shrugged innocently and smiled as you sipped your drink. "I wanted to do it. You don't have to repay me." While you meant that, you were also just dying to have him touch you too. You'd held back from masturbating the way you had planned and even though you'd changed from the soaked panties you'd worn at work, the current ones were quickly getting to a similar state.

Younghyun chuckled darkly and grabbed his own glass. "Not a chance."

You smiled and crossed your legs in an effort to quiet your clit that throbbed for attention.

He cleared his throat and broke the small lull. "Y/N, I wanted to get back to what I'd said in the parking lot earlier." He put his utensils down and crossed his arms on the table, giving you his full attention. You remembered his words and your heart started pounding. You stayed quiet and let him talk. "I...wouldn't have gotten involved with you unless I had good intentions. I don't want you thinking I'm some playboy that sleeps around. Or that I've only been with you for sex."

You let him finish his thought and nodded understandingly. Although you didn't want to believe it, that thought had crossed your mind, so you appreciated him acknowledging it without you needing to bring it up. You set your glass down and gave him your attention in return. "I know that, Younghyun. I don't think that about you. And I'm not...used to doing so much, so soon either." You dropped your gaze, embarrassed now. "It's been awhile since I've been with anyone."

"Me too."

You both left that topic alone after that, not wanting to dwell on it. You switched your conversation to a lighter one. It was so easy with him, you loved how freely you could talk to him. It felt like you'd known him your whole life.

🚪

You weren't sure exactly why you both were always so ready to jump the other's bones; you figured it was a combination of waiting so long to get together, having sexual tension built up for so long, and being in the proverbial "newlywed phase" of your relationship. But whatever it was, it landed you back in Younghyun's lap, straddling him in the front seat of his car in the back of the dark restaurant parking lot, like a couple of horny teenagers. But he did want to repay you, and who were you to deny him that?

He fumbled for the button on the side of his seat, sliding it back as far as it would go to give you more room. Your hips rutted desperately against his, your mouths moving perfectly together, his hot breath mixing with yours.

Younghyun's fingers slipped under your dress, the tips of the digits gliding along the outside crotch of your panties. "Oh my God, you're so wet already."

You blushed a bit, somewhat embarrassed at how crazy he made you, but you knew he'd find it hot. "Been wet ever since I sucked you off," you said breathlessly, spreading your legs more to give him better access. He moved your panties aside and let a single finger play with your clit, and you hummed your approval into his mouth. It was such a small action, but it felt so fucking good. The car was already getting humid, the windows starting to fog from two sets of heavy breathing. You yanked your shirt over your head and he quickly dropped his head to mouth over the swell of your breasts. A finger entered you and made you gasp, hands flying to grip the seat at either side of his head.

"This what we're gonna do?" You chuckled airily. "Just 'repay' each other over and over again?"

Younghyun laughed against your skin then peered up at you. "'Course not. You think I'm letting you go one of these times without fucking you?" Fuck. Part of you wished he'd do just that right at that moment, but you also couldn't get yourself to stop him when he was already making you feel so good. His hand moved quickly now, and he held your gaze and watched your mouth slip into an "O" shape, rubbing harshly to your clit and making you moan loudly.

His free hand came up to pull the cup of your bra out of the way, his tongue poking out to play with your nipple, prodding and teasing it deliciously. It felt like live wires were connecting you, sparking with every touch. You knew you would cum easily if he kept this up.

"Ah, Younghyun, please don't stop, please..." Younghyun sucked at your nipple, groaning all the while, his fingers making you see stars. You felt your heels hit his steering wheel and gripped your hands tighter on the headrest. Your climax was within reach, right there, already. Your voice got higher in pitch, your hips rutting more strongly, and Younghyun didn't stop for a second, determinedly reaching his goal. Your eyes jumped down to catch his just as your orgasm washed over you, the dark sensuality in his heightening the feelings that much more. You gripped his hair and pulled him off your nipple, leaning down to shove your tongue into his mouth hungrily. He moaned into your mouth and his fingers curled inside you and made you gasp, your pussy swollen and throbbing in overstimulation. Clenching as he pulled his fingers out, completely breathless, you closed your eyes and tried to swallow hard, but your mouth was quite dry. Your head was spinning at the whirlwind orgasm, but your weren't exactly surprised it didn't take you long, since you'd been so horny for the last few hours. Younghyun brought his dripping, sticky fingers up to his lips, making you blush as he sucked them clean. "Don't, oh my God," you giggled, embarrassed, pushing his hand down.

But he resisted, groaning at the taste when he got his fingers back into his mouth. "You taste so sweet, baby, I'd never let that go to waste. Need you to sit on my face again, like that first night."

Your pussy clenched again at the memory alone, and you sighed, sitting further back on his thighs. Your own were weak from shaking and your heart was thrumming strongly in your chest, but you felt that melancholy feeling of reality creeping back in when he kissed you.

He pulled back but kept his forehead pressed to yours, his warm breath ghosting over your cheeks. "It's late, gotta work in the morning. Let me take you home."

You sat in blissful, sleepy silence while he drove you home, watching the lights out the window pass, each stop light and street lamp like a twinkling Christmas light to you in your rose-colored haze. At least you could have this feeling outside of work. But every time you thought of the office again, you worried. Things were so different now. If you had to choose between Younghyun and your career, you worried you wouldn't know the right decision to make. You turned to look at him, remembering how he used to look to you when you were merely coworkers, just a few days ago even. Things changed so quickly, maybe they could change quickly again...

🚪

"So when are you and Younghyun gonna do something?"

You took a bite of your sandwich and raised your eyebrows with an inquisitive expression as Sooin sat beside you for lunch in the break room a few days later. "...'Do something'?"

"You know, get together. It's so obvious you want to."

God, if she only knew. But you were glad she didn't. Evidently she didn't suspect anything was going on between you and Younghyun already. And you preferred to keep it that way. It was really none of her business.

"What, like you and Brennan?" You scolded yourself internally for mentioning that as soon as it left your mouth. You weren't sure if that was something you were supposed to pretend to not know.

But she smiled, taking a bite of her pasta smugly. "Yes."

You popped a chip into your mouth and tried to seem nonchalant. You didn't want to get into this with her, even if she was probably the one person in your office who would understand your situation. "We're just friends."

"Whatever you say." She clearly didn't buy it, but so long as she didn't pry, it didn't faze you much. Unfortunately, she continued. "But I'm just saying, I can tell you like him. And he seems like he likes you. He's cute; someone else might snatch him up if you don't hop to it. Hell, I probably would have took my shot if Brennan hadn't gotten to me first." You might have something to say had your situation been different. If you weren't already with him, you might have a comeback, something to get her off your back. But you simply held your tongue. "I've seen Marissa eyeing him."

The mention of the cute new receptionist's name almost put you over the edge. You were so happy with Younghyun, and that should be enough, at least for now, but a big part of you wanted to just scream that you were with him, that you'd gone out with him, that you'd fucked him, that you'd sucked his dick, that you'd sat on his beautiful fucking face. But you didn't. You took another bite of your sandwich and you let it go. You were at work, in a professional environment, not in a frat house. You were all coworkers, not on a reality dating show.

"She can look wherever she wants. I told you, Sooin; Younghyun and I are just friends."

"Okay..."

🚪

You had a meeting with a couple of coworkers after lunch, including your "friend", and you again had to really focus to keep your attention on work. Especially now that Sooin was planting thoughts in your head, thoughts that played into your insecurities. You stared at Marissa through the glass of the conference room, as she obliviously typed away at her desk, then glanced over to Younghyun, across the table from you. You were just starting to feel confident in your relationship with him, and now felt like you were rolling back down the other side of the hill you just climbed. Not that you thought he'd cheat on you. You just didn't like the idea of someone else, especially someone pretty who also saw him every day, to be...Oh God, were you turning into a jealous girlfriend? You rubbed your temple and refocused, notes of pricing increases and new employee hiring needing to be in the forefront of your mind. You wondered if Younghyun was having any other similar thoughts, if your relationship was distracting him from work the way it was for you, the way you'd promised yourself it wouldn't...

If you enjoyed this, consider liking, reblogging, replying, or sending an ask (comments and messages provide so much motivation to keep writing!) 💌 Thanks for reading! 💋

#mine #young k smut #younghyun smut #brian kang smut #day6 smut #oda #kpop smut #day6 hard hours #day6 hard thoughts #day6 scenario #day6 imagine

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separatist-apologist · 1 year

Text

Cowboy Like Me

Never thought I'd meet you here

Summary: When Nesta is stranded in rural Montana, she finds herself rescued by an unlikely pair.

Day 1 of @sjmromanceweek: Meet-Cute

Also, check out this art of Cowboy Cassian from @melphss

Read on AO3

Nesta was in hell.

Who got married in Montana? Montana seemed like the sort of place you exiled people to die in lonely misery. She didn’t give a fuck about all the open sky, the clean air, or the nature that quite literally ambled up to her rental car looking for a snack. Nesta wasn’t built for this sort of life and maybe it said something about her that she couldn’t imagine anyone else who was.

She’d made a mistake, though. When she’d rented her airbnb, she’d just assumed it was an actual home, like the pictures had depicted, and not some ramshackle hovel with a literal hole in the ground for shitting.

For fifty dollars a night, she supposed she deserved that. Nesta thought that maybe she also deserved her twisted ankle. Heels on a gravel road had been an obvious mistake—was she supposed to go barefoot? She hadn’t brought anything else. Nesta emitted a soft scream of hatred for this new, cheerful place before propping herself up on the hood of her car to look at her swelling ankle.

All this for a wedding. The minute Nesta managed to get back into her car, she was going to book a flight home and block this friend forever. Why was she even trying to have friends outside of Gwyn and Emerie, besides? Nesta maneuvered her phone from her black skirt pocket only to find that of fucking course she didn’t have service.

She screamed again, irate with the whole endeavor.

“All right, ma’am?” a masculine voice called. Nesta whipped her head to the side of the long, gravel drive, intending to give that busybody man the middle finger for his trouble.

She hesitated. To start, the man in question was astride a large black horse. She had no quick comeback for a man who was pulling towards her shiny red sedan like he’d stepped straight out of eighteen forty six.

He swung one of his long, powerful legs off the creature with ease, revealing himself to be at least six foot-five. Nesta had never considered herself a small woman, standing at five-nine without heels, but as he approached, his rough stubbled face hidden beneath the brim of his cowboy hat, Nesta felt positively dainty.

He swept his hat off his head and Nesta wished he hadn’t. Holding it against the blue and green flannel of his shirt, he was like something out of a magazine ad for country living. Warm brown skin, hazel eyes, and dark brown hair that fell to his shoulders was a lethal combination on this man. His chiseled jaw, the stubble grazing his cheeks, and his rough features made Nesta think he had no trouble picking up women.

And that irked her, even as she swallowed with desire. He was absurdly stunning, the absolute dream of anyone hoping to marry a cowboy from a long-forgotten age. Those eyes of his, framed with ridiculously long lashes, swept over her, and then her surroundings.

“Tricked, huh?” he asked in a rich, deep drawl. “You wouldn’t be the first. Won’t be the last.”

“Someone should burn this place to the ground,” she hissed, one hand still gripping her hurt ankle.

He chuckled. “I don’t think that would stop someone from tryin’ to sell it. You hurt?” he added, his eyes falling on her ankle.

“I twisted my foot,” she admitted. He knelt, the sight emptying out all of Nesta’s thoughts. She could only stare at his thighs, bulging in his tight jeans. His hand was large enough to wrap fully around her ankle, and ever so slowly, he pulled her foot from her scuffed black heel.

“This is your problem,” he said, holding up her shoe with a frown.

“Well I know that now,” Nesta hissed, “you must be a psychic.”

His eyes flashed. “Can you drive?”

“No,” she admitted, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I wouldn’t go around insultin’ the only person who can help…but that’s just me,” he replied.

Nesta hesitated. “Are you a doctor?”

He snorted, rising to his feet again. His large, muscular body blocked the bright sun the way a tree might, and Nesta couldn’t pretend she wasn’t grateful.

“Cattle rancher,” he replied, “but I know a thing or two about tapin’ up a sprain. We’ll get you iced up and bandaged and on your way Miss…”

She sighed. “Nesta Archeron,” she half grumbled.

“Miss Archeron—”

“Nesta. Don’t be ridiculous.”

He smiled, setting her heart racing. “Miss Nesta, then. I’m Cassian, and I’m walkin’ towards you real slow because I don’t want to spook you.”

“Why would you—put me down right now!”

He shook his head. “And let you finish breakin’ what you started? No offense, darlin’, but carrying you is a lot safer than letting you hop on the horse—”

“Why can’t we drive?”

He looked down at her, his amusement plain. “And what would I do with Bryaxis?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Nesta breathed, gripping Cassian’s neck until her nails dug into his skin. “I’ve never been on a horse.”

“He doesn’t bite,” Cassian replied. “I’ll be right behind you.”

She couldn’t help her squeal as he hoisted her up into the fine leather saddle. Nesta’s bare thighs touched the material, spreading her legs obscenely, though Cassian didn’t seen to notice or care. He merely swung himself up behind her. He put one hand on her hip, the warmth seeping through her silken skirt, before reaching for the reins.

“What were you doing out here, anyway?”

He nodded towards a saddle bag. “Needed a few things in town.

“And you took a horse?” she replied, trying to imagine where he’d even park it.

Cassian’s laugh rumbled through his chest. “Where are you from, Miss Nesta?”

“Chicago,” she replied, well aware she was proving every city slicker stereotype true. “Have you ever been?”

She felt him shrug. “Nope. I’ve been to cities before, but not so far south.

So far south. Nesta didn’t know how to respond to that. “You’re not missing much, honestly.”

“No? Is Chicago not home sweet home?”

It was Nesta’s turn to shrug. “It’s where I live.”

If he had thoughts about that, Cassian kept them to himself. That was just as well—Nesta didn’t want to fight some stranger when she was currently on his horse, unable to even run. He’d left her shoes on top of her car and her suitcase in the trunk. Nesta was literally at his mercy, given the small, two-lane road they were currently traveling down had no hint of civilization besides the two of them.

She’d done such a shitty job picking an airbnb.

“What are you doin’ up here, then?” he asked after a moment. His voice had the most pleasant gravel, deep and dark like a star-flecked sky. Nesta knew she was leaning against the broad plain of his chest and found she didn’t care.

“My friend is getting married,” she said. “I guess her fiance grew up out here.”

“Oh yeah?” he replied, an obvious smile in his voice. “Married on a ranch?”

Nesta twisted in her saddle. “Don’t you dare—”

“Lots of people rent out my barn on the edge of the property. You can stay up with me, if you need a place. I’ll charge you a real fair price.”

She rolled her eyes. “What’s that?”

“You ever mucked out a stall, Miss Nesta?”

She poked him in the ribs, turning back to face the endless expanse of cloudless blue. “Is that your thing, then? Humbling the city girl by making her clean up shit?”

“Maybe I think you’d be real pretty with a little mud on your face.”

Nesta swallowed. “I don’t do mud,” she said, looking at her immaculate nails.

“What do you do, then?” Why did he sound so suggestive? Nesta’s hands were clammy–nervous. When had a man ever had that effect on her?

“Law,” she told him. “Corporate law.”

He made some soft, noncommittal noise that was, honestly, a lot better than a lot of the finance men she dated. Cassian acknowledged he’d heard her without feeling the need to cut her down in service of his own ego.

“I don’t know much about that,” he finally admitted. Nesta could have kissed him for it, though she wouldn’t.

“It’s pretty boring,” she said, earning another of his soft noises.

“I don’t believe that for a minute,” he replied. “You don’t strike me as the type to spend your time sufferin’.”

“Well…I do get to humble really rich men with a fair amount of regularity,” she admitted with a smile. His grip on her waist tightened.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his breath fanning against the back of her neck. She shivered, unintentionally leaning further into him. She was acting like a cat in heat over a man she’d known for fifteen minutes.

“I’ll pay,” she breathed. Behind her, Cassian went stiff.

“Pay?”

“For a room,” she clarified, wondering what he was thinking. “If you were serious about your offer, I’d pay you for it.”

“Oh, darlin’, there’s no need for that. Just a little hel—”

“I told you I don’t do dirt,” she snapped. “You can have money or nothing at all.”

“I’m not takin’ your money,” Cassian drawled. “Just keep after yourself and don’t disturb the cats.”

Her heart stuttered. “Cats?”

“Yeah. My girl just had kittens and she’s real skittish, so if you see her, be real quiet and soft.”

Nesta could have died. “What's her name?”

She wanted a cat so badly. Her landlord expressly forbade any animals at all, and Nesta was too much of a rule follower to risk a secret cat. The thought of spending three days surrounded by a mama cat and her little kittens seemed like heaven.

“Cheddar,” Cassian admitted ruefully. “She’s orange. Dad must be black, though, because half her little beans are black, too.”

A soft squeak slipped from Nesta’s throat. “Do they have names?”

“Not yet. Maybe you’ll help me out with that,” he added with what sounded suspiciously like hope.

She didn’t dare unpack that. Not as Cassian pulled off the road, steering his steady horse down another gravel path. Untouched grass stretched for miles in every direction until the sky met mountains in the distance.

“Your friends will be down there,” Cassian told her, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. Accident, she swore, watching the point of his finger. “But we’ll be up here. I’ll walk you down for the wedding…keep you from wreckin’ that other pretty ankle of yours.”

“Does that work on the women around here? Your folksy charm, your aw shucks—”

Cassian laughed. “Are you askin’ if being nice gets me laid?”

“Does it?”

“My good looks get me laid, darlin’. My folksy charm, as you so eloquently put it, is just called manners outside of the city. No need to pretend.”

“You’d be surprised,” she told him dryly. Cassian merely held her close, his eyes fixated on the two story ranch just in the distance. Nesta could have wept with relief. The saddle was rubbing against her inner thigh, chafing her delicate skin and the woodsy scent of smoke and pine coming off Cassian was threatening to throw all Nesta’s good sense out the window.

His home sprawled against the Montana countryside. Built to look as if it was made of wood—and maybe it was, for all she knew—the house had to be worth a cool million in Nesta’s estimation. She didn’t dare look over her shoulder at him, though. Didn’t dare acknowledge she knew this man wasn’t the simple, rural cattle rancher he was trying to embody.

And Nesta certainly didn’t let him see that she was weirdly relieved. She liked an ambitious man. And unlike all the men she’d been dating back home, Cassian wasn’t slick. Nesta would have put all the money she had on Cassian being the sort who had his heart on his sleeve for all to see. She had no business thinking about that.

This wasn’t a date.

Cassian swung off his horse and gently pulled her back into his arms.

“Don’t you go runnin’ off,” he warned Bryaxis.

“Will he?”

Cassian merely shrugged as he took her up a stone laid path towards his glass and wood front door.

“If he goes anywhere, it’ll be next door to his girlfriend.”

She couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her. “Your horse has a girlfriend?”

“He’s a good-looking horse. Why shouldn’t he have a girlfriend. I catch him all the time down by the fence nuzzlin’ her with his nose.”

“Like you, then?”

Cassian chuckled. “I am very single, Miss Nesta—”

“Just Nesta,” she interrupted, breathless as he brought her inside. “The Miss makes me feel like someone’s kindergarten teacher.”

“Fine, Nesta. I, unlike my horse, am very single.”

“Any particular reason?” she asked, wishing she sounded snide and not interested.

Cassian set her on a long, dark leather sofa, He swept his hat off his head as he knelt in front of her again.

“You want to know why I’m single? Maybe I work too much,” he said softly, sliding her his hand up and then back down her knee. “Maybe I’m a shitty kisser.”

“I’ll bet it’s the second,” she replied. Cassian’s hazel eyes met her own, a smirk curving over his sensual mouth.

“And you? Are you a shitty kisser?”

“Terribly deficient.”

“I figured,” he murmured, turning his gaze back to her swollen ankle. Cassian grabbed a red pillow from the corner of his couch to prop up her foot. “Why don’t you stay here and I’ll get us all set up, hm?”

“Okay.”

Cassian vanished long enough for Nesta to fire off several quiet texts and otherwise study his really nice home. The living room had a wall made of pointed windows, and though everything had that wood cabin aesthetic, it was cozy and cheerful and bright. She flipped through her work emails while she waited, dragging a knitted blanket off the back of the sofa over her lap.

Was she insane for hanging out in a stranger's house? She would never have dared back home—her friends thought she was insane. And yet she was at the right place, and if Cassian wanted to hurt her, surely bandaging up her foot wasn’t necessary. She doubted his neighbors would have heard her scream if she stood outside and emptied her lungs of air.

Cassian returned nearly an hour later, balancing a glass of water and a plate in one massive hand, and her suitcase in the other.

“You got my things?” she asked him, surprised he’d bother. She’d assumed she’d have to hobble back out there for it.

“Of course, darlin’,” he replied, setting a nice sandwich and two ibuprofen down on the wood coffee table right in front of her. “Unless you plan on wearin’ that skirt the entire time? I don’t mind, but…”

Her cheeks flushed. “Thank you. That was really nice.”

He ducked his head. “Have somethin’ to eat before you take the medicine. You look like you haven’t had anything but coffee today. Pain killers won’t settle well on an empty stomach and while you’re cute, you’re not cute enough to clean up puke.”

Nesta was rendered speechless. That was for the best. Everytime he casually said something nice about her, Nesta was far too tempted to crawl into his lap and repay him for his generosity in a different sort of way. Instead, Nesta remained perfectly still while Cassian wrapped up her ankle with a beige colored bandage and pressed a bag of frozen green beans against the aching bone.

“Keep this elevated,” he insisted, taking a spot close enough that Nesta could have scooted forward and put her head in his lap. She was far too tempted.

“Want to watch something?” she suggested. “Or are you busy?”

“Not too busy for you,” he teased, reaching for the remote. “How do you feel about history?”

Their eyes met, and in unison, they said, “Ancient Aliens.”

Cassian smiled with satisfaction. “Fuck yeah.”

They wasted the afternoon that way. Nesta inched closer and closer until her head was propped up against his thigh. Cassian kept his arm casual against the back of the couch, unconcerned as they giggled their way through each new show. He didn’t stop until the sun dipped low, bathing the room in shadow.

“Want to help me make dinner?” he asked, his voice gruffer than before. She looked up at him.

“No eating out?”

His lips curved into a sly smile. “Are you asking to be eaten out?”

She smacked at his stomach, heart racing all the same. “You don’t seem like the cooking type. Isn’t that something for your little wife?”

“Are you offerin’?” he joked. “I accept. C’mon, lazy bones. At least come talk to me.”

“Does anything bother you?” Nesta asked, unconcerned when Cassian lifted her back into the air. She winced at the jolt of pain lancing through her ankle, though she couldn’t pretend she didn’t like the ease with which he carried her through his house. Cassian was careful, setting her atop a granite kitchen island so she could watch over his attempts at cooking.

“So tell me, Miss Nesta—”

“Just Nesta.”

“Nes,” he grinned. “Miss hot shot attorney. What do you think about my humble home?”

She looked around, pretending to survey with an arched eyebrow. “It’s a little rustic—”

Cassian’s fingers were between her ribs before she could stop him, tickling until she thrashed and gasped for a breath of air.

“Stop it, stop—”

“Rustic,” he chuckled, pulling out a nice creuset pot and setting it atop the range. “You’ll have to work on your insults.”

“I think you just wanted an excuse to touch me,” Nesta replied. Cassian smiled.

“Maybe,” he conceded. “It’s not everyday a beautiful woman is waitin’ for me on the side of the road.”

“I wasn’t waiting. I was stuck.”

He shrugged. “Sure felt like you were waitin’ for me.”

“Maybe you were waiting on me.”

“Almost certainly,” Cassian agreed cheerfully. “Do you eat pasta?”

“I’ll eat anything,” Nesta agreed. Cassian nodded.

“You and me both, sweetheart.”

And God, but Nesta wanted to find out if that was true. Cassian had a box of recipes he’d inherited from his mother that he’d been more than happy to show her. While Nesta pulled the cards out one by one, Cassian made his own tomato sauce. She knew it shouldn’t have impressed her and still it did.

He was nearly done when his cat, Cheddar, slunk into the room. Three black and orange kittens flopped just behind her, the third tumbling face first over the threshold from the hall to the tile. Nesta gasped.

“Oh my God,” she whispered.

“Where are the other four, mama?” Cassian asked his cat as she wound her way through his legs to rub against him. “What are those little demons up to?”

Nesta carefully hopped off the counter so she could scoop up one of the babies.

“Probably peeing in my boot,” Cassian grumbled, stirring his sauce with a wooden spoon.

“Babies,” Nesta breathed, delighted when the three that had ambled in with their mother immediately bounded towards her. Her favorite, for no reason at all, was the one with the split black and orange face. She had the brightest blue eyes and when Nesta lifted her up to really look at her, the small creature meowed loudly.

“Well now you’ve done it,” Cassian teased as Cheddar trotted over to see what the fuss was. “Be careful–mama cat has claws.”

Nesta scratched behind her ears. “Maybe for you.”

“I suppose like calls to like,” he grumbled. While he plated their food, Nesta played with the kittens until there was a snag in her skirt. Cassian offered Nesta a hand and when he pulled her up to her feet, balancing on one foot, he yanked just hard enough that she fell into his chest.

Into his lips.

“Oh,” she whispered, unsure what to do. Cassian kept her steady with one arm, the kiss polite and chaste and just enough to make her want much, much more.

“Sorry,” he murmured, brushing a strand of her hair off her face. “Probably shouldn’t kiss the woman rentin’ one of my rooms, but…”

“It’s alright,” Nesta assured him, letting him lead her to the blocky table just outside the kitchen. It might have been awkward had Cassian not been so charming. So laid back and nice. He’d made her spaghetti and didn’t care when his cat spent the entirety of the meal winding her lithe, orange body through his feet and purring so loud Nesta felt like she was competing for his attention.

Cassian kept the conversation going as if nothing had happened, but Nesta couldn’t get the feel of his mouth against hers out of her mind. He’d smelled crisp and clean and when her hands had pressed against his chest, he’d been all hard, toned muscle.

“Why don’t I clean up down here, and you can get settled in your room?” Cassian suggested when Nesta had been silent a little too long. She was undressing him in her mind, and when she looked up at him, the little smile on his face made her wonder if he wasn’t aware.

“Sure,” she agreed, if only to get out of helping with the dishes.

“I’ll carry you up,” he added, his eyes flashing. Nesta shook her head, her pride unable to stand being taken up and down the stairs.

“I can do it myself.

“Are you always this difficult?” he asked, rising to his feet. Cassian was a big man. Nesta had never felt small in comparison, had never once looked at a prospective lover and thought herself little. Cassian, though. Cassian exuded strength. In another life, he might have been a warrior prince worshiped by the masses.

Nesta offered him a feline smile. “Maybe.” Back home, that refusal to yield would have earned her nothing good. With Cassian, though? A slow smile spread over his rugged face.

“Wouldn’t be any fun if you weren’t, I suppose. Go on then, Miss Nesta. Yell if you need me…I’ll come runnin’.”

Nesta suppressed a shiver at his sensual tone. “Is that a promise?”

He looked her up and down, his expression suddenly ravenous. If Nesta had less pride, she might have hopped over to him, pressed her hands to his chest, and let him finish what he’d started.

“It is,” he said simply, those hazel eyes finding her face again.

It was shree will that made her turn. As if she had something to prove. And Nesta made it all of four little hops before Cassian was coming behind her and sweeping her up off her feet. Nesta gasped, unprepared to be so close to him again.

“C’mon,” he murmured, holding her like she was something delicate.

Something fragile.

And no one thought that about her. Nesta swallowed hard, biting back the urge to snap at him. He didn’t know what she was like and maybe that was a blessing, because Nesta didn’t have to put on a show for him. She could press her head against his chest and sigh, “Thank you,” without needing to scowl, to stare him down so he knew not to ever try such a thing again.

“Tell me if I’m wrong,” he drawled softly, taking that first wooden step. “But I’ve got the feelin’ that back home, you’re somethin’ of a ball buster.”

Nesta tightened, her hackles raised. “Is that such a bad thing?”

“No, ma’am,” he chuckled. “It’s just…I’m thinkin’ that most of those men up there don’t know how to act right when it comes to you. And because they can’t make hide or hair of you, they treat you bad. Try and break you, make you small? So you’ve gotta be real tough, don’t you baby?”

Nesta swallowed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said crisply, careful to enunciate every single syllable which she knew only proved his point.

“That’s what I thought,” he said softly, taking her upstairs. Nesta didn’t want him to let her go. I was a strange thing, to be so seen. To be laid bare by this man she didn’t even know.

“Don’t get mad at me for sayin’ this, but you remind me of Bryaxis—”

“Your horse?”

“He was mistreated too,” Cassian explained. “Screamed at, whipped…you name it, he endured it. But all he needed was a soft hand. A little patience. I figure you probably aren’t too different.”

“Where are you taking me?”

Cassian had opened a bedroom door that absolutely belonged to him. The dark masculine reds and blacks of the bed were a dead giveaway, along with the half-full glass of water on a wood bedside table and a stack of books dog-eared haphazardly. A leather jacket was hung from a chair near the open closet door, and though it was dark, Nesta could see an adjoining bathroom at the far end of the room.

“Where, I think, you want to be tonight. Tell me if I’m wrong—I’ll put you somewhere else.”

“This is your room, Cassian.”

She could see he was trying not to smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

Tell him he’s stupid. Tell him he’s wrong. Demand he put you back in your own room and—

“Okay,” she whispered before she could talk herself out of it.

Relief all but crumpled over his features. He murmured something that sounded suspiciously like Thank the good lord, and set her atop his neatly made bedspread.

Nerves shocked through Nesta, rendering her silent for a moment. Cassian, for his part, seemed to have realized that he, too, had her in his bed and didn’t quite know what to make of that.

“I ah…why don’t I wash up the dishes and you can take a shower?”

“That sounds good, Cassian.”

It sounded better than good, and though Nesta swore she wasn’t going to say so, she called, “Unless you think I need help in the shower?”

Cassian froze. For all his bravado, it was obvious he’d never thought he’d get this far. Nesta crawled toward the end of his bed with exaggerated slowness, holding his stare. He took a slow breath, those eyes of his darkening to almost black.

“Is it safe for me alone in there?”

The knot in his throat bobbed. “I reckon it’s not, Miss Nesta—”

“Just Nesta,” she reminded him, rising up on her knees so she could touch the hard planes of his stomach. “Do you think you could call me that, Cassian?”

“I…” his voice trailed off when her fingers found his belt and tugged.

“You know,” Nesta continued with far more bravado than she felt, “I don’t think I’ve properly thanked you for coming to my rescue today.”

“You..” he cleared his throat. “That’s not necessary. I—Nes—”

“That’s better,” she crooned, having undone the button of his jeans. A lump was forming—hard and thick and Nesta was desperate to see what the cowboy had hidden in those black pair of briefs.

“Nes,” he tried again, his hands resting on her shoulder. He wasn’t stopping her, and given the way his fingers curled against her, she thought he was trying very, very hard to be a gentleman.

That wouldn’t do.

“I’d be a poor guest if I didn’t thank you,” she said, slipping past the waistband of his underwear. Nesta gasped when she curled around him—or, tried to. As she pulled Cassian out, she realized she’d need to rethink her plan to thank him with her tongue. Cassian was enormous, both thick and long. Hardly a grower, given he was still stiffening in her curled hand.

Neither of them spoke for a moment, each waiting for the other to do something. Deciding he was erect enough, she pumped him. Her fingers just barely fit around his shaft, and even with two hands she couldn’t have fully covered him. Nesta certainly wasn’t going to be able to fit him all in her throat.

But god she wanted to try.

He exhaled a breath when she stroked him again, earning a chuckle from Nesta. “Tell me how you like it,” she murmured, softening her grip. Nesta had to hope that the cowboy liked it rough, because she wanted him to fuck her within an inch of her life.

“Nice and slow?” she tried, making a sweet pass over that large cock of his.

Cassian shook his head, his dark tresses, whispering against his broad shoulders. What was he like out of control?

“What about this?” she tried, pumping him harder, squeezing tighter. He shook his head again, allowing her to make a third, rougher pass. Nesta twisted her wrist against his head, her nails grazing the sensitive vein trailing his now very erect cock jutting from between two powerful legs.

“That's what I thought,” Nesta murmured, looking up through dark lashes. “Just like me.”

“Nes—”

Nesta silenced him by taking him into her mouth. She had to use her hand to make up the difference and she didn’t care. A soft, strangled noise escaped Cassian as his fingers plunged into her hair.

Yes.

This was what she needed. Nesta took him until she gagged, and then she took a little more, teeth grazing his sensitive skin, hand punishingly tight. Cassian moaned, tugging at her hair. Nesta sucked again, trying so hard to communicate that she could take it. He was holding back, practically shaking from the effort.

Nesta took more of him, widening her jaw in order to accommodate the sheer size of him. That was all it took. Cassian made a rough, snarling sound, pushing her off him.

“You’re a lady,” he panted, reaching for the buttons of his shirt.

Finally.

“And in my house, ladies come first,” he continued, eyes flashing as he shrugged out of that shirt. Nesta swore softly at the sight of all that gleaming, corded muscle. Nesta had never seen someone so effortlessly toned, so big.

Powerful.

“I seem to recall something about eating out,” she said breathlessly, swallowing hard when Cassian prowled toward her.

“I haven’t forgotten, darlin’,” he promised, hovering over her with his unbuttoned jeans and a smile that made Nesta’s heart race. “But first, I think I’m owed a kiss.”

“Just one?” she asked as his lips ghosted over her own.

“Let’s start with one and go from there,” he said, sliding his hand around the back of her head. Nesta had only her ripped dress between them, which provided no protection against Cassian when he pressed the weight of his body against her.

In another life, she might have kissed him nice and slow—teasing it out, exploring him thoroughly. Right then, though, Nesta thought she might explode if she didn’t have his mouth directly on her, his tongue stroking, thrusting, tasting. He was just as excited, grinding himself into her while she pulled at the strands of his hair.

He tasted like snow kissed wind, somehow. Like the crackling of a fire and a frosted window—like some memory she’d long forgotten. Nesta dug her nails down the back of his neck and against his shoulder blades until he bucked into her, wild and nearly unrestrained. Nesta could not remember the last time she’d wanted someone the way she wanted him.

“Off—get this—off,” Cassian panted between messy, hungry kisses. He was pawing at her dress, trying to figure out how to take it off. Nesta arched her back into his chest, earning matching moans from them both as she yanked down the zipper

Nesta would never know how she managed to get that dress off her body given Cassian never stopped his frantic kissing. Nor did she figure out how her bra joined her clothes on the floor. She only realized she was nearly naked when Cassian licked down the column of her neck before burying his face between her breasts.

“Fuck, Nes,” he breathed, both hands covering them entirely—no easy feat, given how large they were. Cassian massaged them, callused thumbs dragging over her aching nipples until Nesta was certain she was making a mess all over his bedding.

His mouth latched around her and Nesta was lost, ripping at his hair as her body bowed off the bed.

“Responsive,” he teased, his tongue tracing around the sensitive bud. “I wonder…”

“Cass—” she gasped when his hand made its way between her legs. Nesta writhed when he began drawing circles on her clit, teasing touches that weren’t even close to what she needed, even as he switched between her breasts, sucking and licking. She could feel it all in her pussy, like every nerve in her body was intimately connected.

She could have come from that—for the first time in god knew how long. At least, without her own hand, without assistance from a toy. Nesta couldn’t recall the last time a man had pleased her so easily, so effortlessly.

Cassian pulled back, wild and impossibly sexy. Holding her gaze, he nipped his way down her body until he found the red pair of panties still clinging to her hips.

“Aw, for me?” he teased, kissing against the fabric. “Sweetheart, you’re soaked.”

Nesta pushed herself against his face, but Cassian was still licking against the lace.

“I’ll bet you could come just like this. Couldn’t you?”

If he was doing it? Probably. Nesta merely whined, arching when he hooked his fingers into her underwear and peeled them off her.

He whistled softly. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby. Do you know that? I feel sick at the sight of you.”

She didn’t have a chance to respond. Cassian’s tongue slid down the center of her, rendering speech impossible. Nesta reached for something to hold on to, and found his hair for purchase. Cassian groaned, the sound vibrating against her. Her thighs tightened around his face, earning another groan of pleasure.

Cassian’s tongue was everything. She realized, after a lifetime of thinking she was just difficult to get off—too fussy, too particular, too exacting—that what she really needed was someone who knew what they were doing. Cassian had her spread apart, licking and sucking her clit with the sort of expert precision that told Nesta he liked what he was doing.

She regretted not sucking him more. Nesta was going to come apart in record time and she knew she was going to beg him to do this again in a few hours. All weekend.

For fucking ever.

Release was gathering on her spine, burning hotly through her blood until Nesta didn’t recognize the noises coming from her throat. Cassian, too, was rolling his hips into the mattress, trying to alleviate his own arousal. Nesta nearly stopped him, if only to have that long, thick length in her body.

As if he could hear her thoughts, Cassian pushed one of his fingers into her. Nesta tightened around him and Cassian swore at whatever he felt, though he didn’t stop. He fucked and sucked in time, working her like she was an instrument only he knew how to play. Nesta built up, up, up, until she was fucking his hand, rolling all over his face like a wild animal.

Nesta broke apart with a scream she couldn’t control, bucking against him as she shattered into fractals of starlight. Cassian didn’t stop, riding her through wave after wave with clear, obvious excitement. It was only when pleasure became edged with pain that Nesta released the grip her thighs had around his face and Cassian came up for a deep breath of air.

“Fuck,” he said, his lips gleaming from her arousal. “Fuck, Nes—”

“Come here, come here,” she panted, scrabbling for his shoulders. Cassian obliged, kissing her frantically. His tongue was coated in the taste of her, pushed against her own. Nesta liked it, wanted more of him.

“Condom,” he breathed, finally shucking his jeans to trip over to his dresser. Nesta propped herself up on her elbows to watch, admiring his firm ass as he went. Cassian was quick about it, rolling the condom onto his cock with what she swore were shaking hands. His eyes shone, and if she didn’t know better, she would have sworn Cassian could not believe his good luck.

“You sure?” he asked, hesitating at the end of the bed. Nesta nearly laughed, given she was spread out and still trembling from his mouth. Any other man would have jumped on her, would already be balls deep buried in her.

He was sweet, she decided.

She wanted to keep him, though she had no idea how. She’d figure it out later. “I’m sure.”

“Good,” he said with another heart stopping smile. “I don’t know what I would have done if you’d said no.”

“Sure you do,” she offered in what she hoped was a sultry voice. “You’d have gone into the bathroom and used your hand.”

“That was my plan to start,” he agreed, settling between the cradle of her thighs. “But this is much better. Have I said how pretty you are?”

“Once, at least.”

“Well.” He pushed himself an inch or so into her. Nesta gasped loudly. “You’re fuckin’ beautiful, darlin’.”

He’d punched all the air from her lungs. Nesta didn’t think she’d ever been stretched against anything half as large as Cassian. It was the sweetest pain that, with each shallow stroke inching him in deeper, became wholly pleasure. By the time Cassian had fully seated himself within her, a bead of sweat was trailing down his temple from the effort it took to go slow.

“Good?”

“Good,” she agreed, gripping the back of his neck for a kiss. “Cass?”

He hummed in response.

“I’m not fragile. You can fuck me, if you like.”

Cassian pulled himself out before snapping his hips so hard the headboard above them rattled. “Like that?” he grunted.

“Yes—yes, Cassian—”

He did it again, groaning loudly when she tightened involuntarily around him. This was Cassian unrestrained, his hair wild around his rugged, handsome face. His muscles bunched and shifted from the effort, held over her just enough that she could incline her had and watch his cock slide in and out of her body.

He wasn’t finished, and Nesta already wanted to have him again.

And again.

Cassian reached for her knees, bending them up by her shoulders to drive himself deeper. Nesta moaned, eyes rolling up into her head. The balls of her feet were pressed to his chest pushing him with each slide out, only for him to return with twice as much force. When she’d said she’d wanted it rough, well…this was exactly what she meant.

“Nes, fuck—” he panted, eyes rolling up into his head as she came on his cock. Nesta arched hard, every muscle in her body going taut all at once. She clamped around him and Cassian came too, clearly unbidden and unprepared for the force of his own release. She wanted to drown herself in the noises he made, in the frantic thrusting of his body driving himself deeper on instinct.

Cassian collapsed on top of her, dropping Nesta’s legs carelessly. She hissed when her bruised ankle hit the bed.

“Sorry,” he whispered, lips against her jaw. “And I’m not, at the same time. Nesta, I…”

“I know,” she agreed, because she was certain they were thinking the same thing. Something else had happened between them, something they couldn’t so easily walk away from.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said, perhaps guessing those words were never going to come easy to Nesta. “I can hear you worryin’. Baby, you don’t have to worry about me.”

Nesta brushed her fingertips against the rough stubble of his face. “Promise?”

Cassian grinned. “I promise.”

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #bryaxis #i mean bryaxis IS a horse but still #a good boy #montana!cassian #dustjacket you better LOVE this

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kekaki-cupcakes · 9 months

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Hiiii, hope u're doing well :)

Can I request a slow burn-strangers to lovers connor stoll x mortal reader please?

( no headcanon, just a one shot 🫡)

Like how they met, their first kiss... AND connor reveling he's a half blood

A fem reader or gender neutral is okay

Okay so this has been sitting in my drafts since the stone ages but I had a burst of motivation so here's 2.9k of teasing and fluff

It's not really a slow burn because it's a one shot but it's implied that it happens over time so yk yk. And I checked all the boxes you get first interactions a make-out session and the big reveal :)

Cafe au but it's not an au--- Connor Stoll x gn mortal!reader

»»————-　★　————-««

“We’ve got a new kid today, you wanna show him the ropes?”

You finished ripping the receipt out of the machine and smiled politely at the customer who took their change and moved to the side. The receipt made a tearing sound as you pushed it onto the metal spike [you didn’t actually know what it was called, you realized], and then spun around, “oh thank god, yes please.”

“That’s what I thought,” Maria chuckled, wrapping an apron around her middle and pining his name tag to the front of the green material that had an odd shaped stain on the pocket. “You hate the till.”

“Who doesn’t?”

“Hopefully the new kid, he should be here in a minute, I did say four thirty.” He looked up at the clock behind the queue of customers waiting for their coffees that read four forty, and then glanced towards the glass doors.

“What’s his name?” You ask, resetting the price on the cash register and taking off the stupid little cap whoever was at the til had to wear. You groaned, “oh please don’t tell me it’s his first job, i can’t explain how to count change to another pimply little-”

“It’s his first job, just moved to New York,” she said, lifting up a sticky note and reading the note underneath it on the whiteboard near the mops. “And his name is… Cecil Markowitz.”

“I’m here, I’m here!”

“We noticed.” Maria muttered drily, pulling the cap over her jagged strawberry blonde hair.

A blonde kid, maybe fifteen or so, panted on the other side of the counter. He was in a school uniform that he tugged a black hoodie over the top of as he spoke at the speed of light. “Sorry, my brother had to drive me and he ran like four red lights so we wouldn’t be late but then-”

“Then you shut up so your amazing big brother —who did not have to drive you here by the way, I have other things I could be doing— wouldn’t get arrested?” Another boy asked with a raised eyebrow, swinging car keys around his pointer finger. You had to pay a little more attention to him than the bouncing blonde currently eyeing the tip jar, because wow, the jawline he had…

“You have to look after us Connor! That’s the whole agreement!” Cecil hissed up at his brother.

“Zip it, short stuff.” Connor [you liked the name] smirked, then turned to you. His eyes widened for a moment and you ignored the fact you immediately noticed they were blue. He blinked a few times and then cleared his throat, “Um. uh, I’ll get a black coffee… please.”

You just shrugged at him, and motioned for Cecil to follow you into the kitchens, where the fridge foods were whipped up. “Don’t order from me, I'm showing short stuff around.”

A look of horror dawned on the new employee’s face. “No, not you too!”

»»————-　★　————-««

“I’m sorry, but we don’t serve pizza here, there’s a dominoes a few blocks away if you-”

“No, I want to order one here, thank you.” The customer said to you with a frown and that patronizing look you got ten times a day just for being a teenager. “I know what I’m talking about, I’ve gotten pizza here a million times, and I'd like two large meatlovers.”

You stared blankly at the woman in front of you for a moment and wondered if it was too late to drown yourself in caramel sauce just so you wouldn’t have to deal with this lady. You take a deep breath and bring out that perfectly fake smile again to-

“Oh Fucknuggets! Miss, that chick just ran off with your purse! You’d better go chase her down!”

“What?” She shrieked, and reached for her big red leather bag and went pale under her orangey powdered face. “Oh for heaven's sake!”

The woman was out the door immediately, chasing down four different people that had just left the cafe. She waved her arms wildly and wailed like a duck that had just been stepped on.

Connor watched her leave with an amused expression on his face you had to quickly pull your eyes away from. He reached into the pockets of his spiderman hoodie [SpiderHam, to be specific] and pulled out a blinged up silver purse, flicking through the contents with interest.

He turned to you and held up an ID card with that smug expression that made your stomach feel like you’d had too much bubble tea. “I reckon I could pull it off, in the right lighting.”

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t see that.” You said quickly with your eyes narrowed, but Connor pulled the wads of cash out and stuffed it into the tip jar as he turned to the glass double doors.

“Hey!”

Cecil nearly stumbled into another customer and you motioned to the back of the cafe, pulling his apron off the rack and handing it to him as he took off his yellow beanie, which for some reason had a lot of little sun’s sewn around the edges. “Hey short stuff, you can start by taking the trash out.”

He visibly sunk, tying the apron around his middle and sighing.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Definitely don’t go over the fence to the back of the dollar store because it would be a terrible idea to see the baby racoons living in the recycling bin.”

Connor grinned, watching his little brother speed out of the room with black bags of rubbish in his hands. “So… Can I order from you today?”

“As long as it’s not a pizza, go ahead.”

“...What’s your favorite?” Connor asked, leaning on the bench littered in plastic cup lids and receipts, with his chin in his hands. He was lucky there wasn’t a queue behind him, but you probably would’ve let him sit there and distract you anyway.

You just tapped away at the ipad, sending the last of the order’s over to Maria, who was making one of the matcha teas. “Not a black coffee, if that’s what you're asking.”

“No seriously, what is it?” he said, and you felt yourself get hot when he glanced somewhere a bit lower than your eyes. Not in a gross way, but holy shit when did his own eyes get that lidded? “Maybe I’ll try it sometime…”

“Are you asking to kiss me or do you actually want an iced strawberry tea?” You blurted out, hand frozen over the screen in front of you.

Connor went red in a matter of seconds and shot up, his eyes certainly not lidded anymore. “Oh look at the time I have to go make sure my goldfish doesn’t drown,” He yelped, tripping over untied shoelaces and scrambling to the door.

“Careful… You’re looking at him like you look at those racoons.” Maria muttered as he walked past with a little grin.

»»————-　★　————-««

You dumped your school bag on a bench in the corner of the kitchen, but before you could ask Jerry if there was a new order you were supposed to pick up some new ingredients [the amount of times Connor ordered a black coffee when he dropped off Cecil meant they were seriously out of it[, someone banged on the back door.

It was pouring with rain outside, but you eased open the door and peaked out into the stormy weather, then frowned at the figure. “What are you doing back here-”

You stopped in your tracks and choked, nearly dropping the drink in your hands. Cecil rubbed his hands together to avoid frostbite, a thin line of blood down the side of his face. His hair was stuck to his forehead, and thin patches of golden powder covered it, and his clothes.

He grinned, wiping his nose. “If it’s any consolation… This isn’t my blood?”

“Maria’ll clean you up, go.” You open the door properly and shove him into the warmth, then shut it behind you and step out into the biting wind that ripped though your green apron, and marched up to the car parked near the dumpster.

Holding your hand over your eyes so you weren’t blinded by the headlights, you yelled at the driver. “Why the fuck did short stuff just come out of a fucking apocalypse movie?”

Connor leant over the passenger seat and opened the door with a totally fake innocent smile. You didn’t think he could look innocent. Hot, on the other hand…He still looked hot with blood smeared across his cheek and something shiny underneath his fingernails, apparently. He shrugged one shoulder “I mean, it isn’t our blood?”

“Connor.” You muttered, crossing your arms and squinting through the mist swirling around your feet. You looked down and had to step out of a puddle with a grimace.

Connor blinked and replied instantly, as if this was something he had to do a lot. “Do you want the technically legal version, the version that’ll make you happy, or the-”

You cut him off and glared, rain clinging to your eyelashes. “The truth.”

Connor thought for a moment and then gave you an apprehensive look. “There was a feral Harpy in the backseat of the car that popped out when we got to the intersection two blocks over.”

You sighed. “I said the truth-”

“You don’t believe me.” His voice was faint, and somehow hurt. He sounded resigned though, like he was expecting it. The look on his face made you want to climb into the pretty beat up car and grab his face and tell him you believed him so much and forever just so he’d look happy again.

Maybe if you let him talk. He could be referencing something you hadn’t seen, you reasoned. “Was the harpy like a monster or a furry?”

“Well when you think about it harpy’s really are just furry’s, but yeah it was an actual monster.” Connor said simply, and then he chewed on his thumbnail nervously “Uh, do you wanna… hop in? You look like my brother when he stuck a huntsman in Annabeth’s pillow case.”

“What does spider pranks have to do with being soaked?” You mutter, not really meaning for it to be a question. You climbed into the passenger seat, brushing pools of water off you and wiping your nose.

“You can’t even imagine.”

You raise an eyebrow at Connor. “I work in customer service, try me.”

“My dad is a god.” He blurted out, then froze and turned away from you with an odd expression, his gaze trained on the rain outside.

“Are you talking about the Romans and the Egyptians, or are you Jesus?”

“Greeks, actually.” Connor said through gritted teeth, then his eyebrows shot up and that familiar tone you might have thought about a few times seeped back into his voice. He untensed and grinned at you“One of my buddy’s did come back from the dead actually… but I don’t think Jesus would like him very much.”

“Why?”

“He’s dating one of my other buddies.”

“Oh.” You blinked, but you weren’t really sure what this conversation had to do with Connor and Cecil being attacked. “Good for him.”

“My dad’s Hermes.” Connor said suddenly, sucking in a breath and closing his eyes. When you didn’t answer, too focused on the way his face looked when he scrunched up his eyes, he glanced at you again with a cautious smile, as if your reaction really mattered to him. “Surprise?”

You thought for a moment, actually considered it, and “Yeah. That checks out,”

“Whaddaya mean? I don’t have wings on my shoes!”

“Isn’t he the god of like, traveling and stealing shit?” You ask, smiling back at him as reassuring as you could, soaked to the bone sitting in a boy’s car six minutes before your shift started. “Dude, you drive your brother back and forth across New York four times a week. And you stole that lady's purse.”

‘Oh yeah. That was fun,” he sighed, and sunk in the driver's seat. He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead and closed his blue eyes, relief painted across his face.

You wiped your nose again, sure that you’d get a cold tomorrow just from standing in the lovely New York weather for more than a few seconds. A song played on the radio quietly, and you recognised it from the playlist Maria played on the speakers in the cafe sometimes.

The lyrics went something like ‘I rob and I kill to keep him with me,

I'll do anything for that boy’. When you looked over at Connor, you gulped.

Connor glanced at you from underneath his hand, and then looked down at the drink still clutched in your hands. The pink tone of it matched the fluffy strawberry’s hanging from the rear view mirror, and it was making your fingers hurt with the cold.

He smirked. “Are you supposed to drink while you’re working?”

“You make it sound like I'm doing shots behind the counter.” You shot back with a glare, and then felt your face heat up as you spoke. “And uh… it’s not… I didn’t make it for myself.”

“There’s an angry old lady in there, you know?”

This was excruciating. You ducked your head and bit your lip a little, looking out the window so you wouldn’t have to see Connor’s face when that stupidly hot smirk spread across his lips. “Uh… I didn’t make it for a customer, either…”

“Is that-”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Connor was wide eyes and slack jawed when you turned back to him, a dark blush across his cheeks that you wanted to take a photo of because goddam he was cute, but you knew you wouldn’t be forgetting the sight any time soon. He opened his mouth to talk, his eyes no longer at, well… eye level.

You put the drink into the holder between the seats and followed his gaze. “Just kiss me.”

You hadn’t seen that smile before.

His hands were so warm on your jaw, as hot as the tight feeling in your chest that melted quickly. It happened so fast you couldn’t really register anything until you realized Connor was halfway between your seats with his teeth on your bottom lip and his soft hair threaded between your fingers.

You used it to tug him closer, as close as he could and then more, because he was warm and soft and you could feel his grin through his lips that moved against your own in rhythm that ebbed and flowed. He slid his hands off you and you nearly pulled them back, until Connor was hugging you tight around your middle, his fingers knotting through the bow tied on your apron.

You chewed on his lip, which felt puffy and pulsing under your touch, but you kept kissing him, breaking away every few seconds to breathe, but you couldn’t not press your lips along his jaw. He was just too much. You had to kiss him everywhere and pull on his hair and tilt his head back and melt into his touch like you’d die if you didn’t.

Connor sighed into your mouth and gulped, you could feel his Adam's apple bob under the palm of your hand as you pushed him back gently by his neck. You got up on your knees as he blinked once or twice, like he’d been in a trance. “You took that all very well,”

“Don’t worry, I’ll freak out later when it sinks in.” You muttered back, pushing him back into the driver's seat where he’d begun. He made an odd noise and tightened his arms around your waist, ducking his head and when he pouted you couldn’t help but slide over the cupholder and sit on his lap, as if you hadn’t been planning to do so the whole time.

Then he frowned, “Wait, you’ll freak-”

“Shhhh,” you said, pressing a finger to his soft lips. He shut up immediately. You glanced behind you at the console, checking the time. “I have four and a half minutes til I have to start, we can discuss this later.”

“Deal,” Connor breathed, dragging your hands down to his neck again and looking up with vague out eyes. You grinned at him and went back to wiping that stupid smirk off his lips.

»»————-　★　————-««

“Your boyfriends here.”

You looked up from the kitchen counter you were wiping down after an accident with the tub of coconut shavings, “Why?”

“I’m assuming he’s here for you, short stuff doesn’t have a shift til the weekend.” Maria checked the whiteboard and glanced out the swinging doors. You moved to peek over her shoulder and saw Connor standing by the doors, swinging his car keys around his pointer finger absentmindedly. He was wearing that spiderman hoodie again, the one you’d accidentally tipped black coffee down the front of once when you’d worn it.

You grinned, if you finished up cleaning and took the trash out, you’d be done in five minutes and you’d get to follow him to his car that surely wasn’t road safe and then go wherever it was he’d planned this time.

“Go. But tomorrow you have to stop the racoons from eating the tires off my Harley.” Maria sighed, crossing his arms and motioning to the exit.

“I love you.”

He raised his eyebrows “Was that directed towards me or the boy-”

“Both.”

»»————-　★　————-««

#pjo fandom #pjo #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percyjacksonfandomx reader #Connor stoll #connorstoll #Connor Stoll x reader #Connor Stoll x you #Connor Stoll c y/n #the Stoll twins #hermes cabin #coffee shop au

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gelenka-daria · 3 months

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The reincarnation prompt look so cool omg imagine a reincarnated melkor & manwë

i have a draft which i thought was half done but then i keep adding new things to the plot and it keeps getting longer, here's a snippet in case i never finish this thing🧍‍♀️

Friday morning is terrible. Manwë oversleeps his first alarm, then panics when he hears the blaring horn of his backup alarm, literally falling out of bed in his half-frenzied state. He doesn’t shower, doesn’t have time to make himself a cup of coffee, can’t find matching socks, and spends seven goddamn minutes searching for his car keys. His luck doesn’t change. Once he gets behind the wheel, his car won't start. Manwë screams into the sleeves of his hood. Thankfully, the subway is a mere five-minute walk from where he lives, one or two if he storms it. He pulls his hood up - no one is catching him looking this haggard, he has a reputation to uphold - as he races through the morning crowd under drizzling rain, his only hope now is that he hasn't missed his transport. Which, as his stupendous luck would have it, he has. Of course. Manwë’s body composition is roughly forty percent pure, blinding rage by the time he's bracing his hands against his knees as he catches his breath, trying not to bemoan his misfortunes, few that they are, as he watches the train glide away, the doors closing just a second before he could squeeze his body through. It's alright, he reconciles with himself, so you're a little bit late to your lecture, so what? When’s the next train, five minutes? No big deal. He’s been waiting even less than that when he hears the distinct clamor of the oncoming train as light appears down the distant rails, and the metal wagons are slowing down in wisps of steam right in front of Manwë in no time. The doors part, people rush in and he finds himself a decent seat before the train moves again. He’s already settled when something flashes in the corner of his right eye and he whips his head to look without thought. The guy stands out a mile in the crowd, his steps languid, barely escaping the door clamping shut on long, dark hair. Manwë’s eyes catch combat boots, dark pants, and a dark red jacket over a black tank top and he can’t help but think the guy looks refreshing, a splash of color in their otherwise dull surroundings. He sweeps a look across the people scattered across the trailer, his gaze laser-sharp and focused and for some reason, Manwë is relieved his choice of dress is shielding him from that stare. Whatever the gu's looking for, he doesn't seem to find it, because his demeanor quickly grows lax and he turns bored eyes to his phone as he takes a seat one elderly couple away from him, and if Manwë tips his head up the slightest, he can get a real good look at him. But when his eyes zero in on the deep golden eyes and the sharp cut of bone under coppery skin the stranger's profile has to offer, an echo of 'don't I know you' chimes in his brain out of nowhere and he has to physically stop himself from getting closer to get a better, clearer look, confused as to why he suddenly, desperately, wants to. He doesn’t quite know how to put his finger on it, but this guy has something about him that makes his gut twist, like he's a face he’s seen in a dream and is now manifesting right before him. It makes his skin crawl but also itch for more. Manwë scoots away in his own seat, looking away and willing his eyes to follow suit, to not stray, but they flit sideways anyway a minute later, catching a hint of the impassive profile. He suddenly wants to speak, talk to this stranger, say something, anything. Why? What does it matter? You don’t know this guy. Manwë quells his interest with a frown, pretending as if the small kernel of disappointment in his gut isn’t attempting to flower. He gets off at the next stop in a hurry, exiting through the door furthest from the stranger. He suffers the couple of classes he has and sits through dinner with his friends, goes home, showers, studies into the early morning hours for his Human Physiology final until he falls asleep, drooling over scattering textbooks. He forgets the brief, trivial encounter of this morning had ever happened.

#melkor x manwë #tolkien #anonymous

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maineventbts · 1 year

Text

DON’T SCREAM

Genre: horror , smut , angst

Pairing: college bf!Taehyung x reader

Warnings: violence , murder , explicit language , talks of murder , unprotected sex (pls be safe!) , dirty talk , possessive behavior

Summary: after the brutal murder of two girls in your town , everyone is on high alert. with your mother leaving town , you’re left to defend yourself from a murderer.

A/N: I haven’t posted in a long time, I’m so sorry for the wait! I hope you guys enjoy this (pls ignore any mistakes, I rewrote this whole thing today)!!

"You’re seriously overreacting," Yoongi’s voice sounded exhausted as the conversation continued. You whip your head around, still in a state of shock, "are you kidding me? Two people we know were brutally murdered." Everyone at the table seemed unfazed at the tragic events that occurred last night. Two of your classmates were found stabbed to death, the entire scene was horrific. Butchered in their own home, the murderer still on the loose. Though your friends would rather talk about a party, you were deeply disturbed. You tuned them out and sat quietly with your thoughts. “Hell no, she’s the only one reacting appropriately,” Jungkook quickly came to your defense. For the last forty-five minutes, he was trying to convince your friend group that they needed to suit up, if they were going to survive. “I’m telling you, this is some shit from a horror movie. Just like the Terrifier, people getting hallowed out and stabbed to death,” you were happy you weren’t the only one to be scared, but he wasn’t helping ease your nerves.

"Hey, what’s wrong," your boyfriend, Taehyung, carefully cupped your face. Your boyfriend was the sweetest person you've ever known. Always trying to take care of you, no matter what the situation was. He looked genuinely concerned about your current state. Your palms were sweating, and the look of fear was all over your face. All you could think about was the next attack, and how anyone could be next. "I’m just a little freaked out, my mom is leaving tonight and I’m a little scared," you took a deep breath, resting your head against his shoulder. He pressed a soft kiss to the side of your head, trying his best to bring you some form of comfort. "You know, I could always stay with y-" letting out a chuckle, you interrupt his suggestion. "You know I'd like that, but my mother would kill us both," your friends laugh at Taehyung's attempt to spend the night with you. The gesture was beyond sweet, but unrealistic. If anything, you’d find yourself at Nayeon’s house for the week.

As you get up to head to your class, you give Taehyung one final kiss, "come by after school, just for a bit."

______________________________

"Baby, keep it down," Taehyung grunts quietly as he hovers over you. Slowly raising your leg, he throws it over your shoulder, continuing to thrust into your sopping hole. As he picks up his pace, you whine, grabbing a hold of the sheets beneath you, "it's too much." He softly chuckles, bringing his fingers up to your lips. You instantly parted your lips, allowing his digits to slide in. You whine around his fingers, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth.

Though your moans have been silenced, the sound of wet smacking is prominent throughout your bedroom. With each thrust, your walls tighten around his cock, causing him to let out a low groan. Your brain becomes foggy, and you feel like you're floating, "c’mon pretty girl, come all over my cock."

His hips continue to slap against yours, and you feel an intense wave of pleasure rush over you. Taehyung loved the sight in front of him, your eyes rolling back as you moaned around his fingers. You're falling apart on his cock with one more thrust, dripping all over him. Not too far behind, he picks up his pace, chasing his high. "Fuck, angel," he groans before hiding his face in your neck. After a few more quick thrusts, he's spilling his seed into you. As you both catch your breath, he leans up, leaving a kiss on your forehead and your lips. You both scramble to get up and clean before you get caught.

A loud knock on your door interrupts your sweet moment, "Are you alright in there? I haven't seen you in a while." The sound of your mother’s voice sends you both into panic mode. "Yeah, I’m fine! Just about to shower," you quickly respond as Taehyung is halfway out of your window. "Thanks for coming," you whisper, walking over to your boyfriend. Taehyung intertwines your fingers, pressing a light kiss to the back of your hand, "just call me if you need me. And lock your doors when she leaves; there’s a lot of bad people out here. Wouldn’t want you getting hurt." With a quick peck, he’s gone, leaving you to wobble towards your shower.

_______________________________________

"Are you sure you don’t want to come with? "I don't feel too comfortable leaving you alone," your mother expressed her concerns as she stood in your doorway. Knowing how frightened you’d been since the news came out, she couldn’t believe that she had to leave you by yourself. She was leaving for a conference, and you’d be alone for the next week. With the recent killings, she wanted you to be surrounded by others, suggesting that you stay at Nayeon’s. A large part of you wanted her to stay, but you knew how important this was for her. "I’m sure I’ll be fine. If I get scared, I'll go stay with Nayeon and her mom," you hurriedly told your mother as you pushed her towards the front door. Time was ticking, and if she stayed any longer, she’d miss her flight. "Alrighty, mother, I’ll see you later. And bring me back something back from your hotel!" You shout after your mother as she’s entering her car.

After your mother left, you decided to make some dinner. You thought a small meal and a show would distract yourself from your loneliness. While you were cooking, your friend's group chat was blowing up. They started off comforting you and ended up arguing about which movie franchises were the best. Most of the group leaving the conversation, after one of Jungkook’s infamous movie lectures. Along with those texts, you received several reassuring messages from Taehyung. He even offered to FaceTime for the night, which you declined. You didn't want to feel like a burden, so you decided to suck it up.

You decided to sit in the living room with your meal. Browsing through different streaming services, you search for your favorite show. You click on ‘Pretty Little Liars’ on the screen, as if this isn’t your sixth time watching the series. As soon as the episode starts, you regret your choice of TV. Choosing a suspenseful show about a missing girl wasn’t your brightest idea. However, after triple checking that all your doors were locked, you felt like you might be able to sleep through the night.

An alert sound comes from your phone. Your eyes dart towards your device on the marble coffee table. You quickly reach for it, expecting a new message from your boyfriend, or another text from Jungkook about how Trey Songz ruined Texas Chainsaw Massacre. What you hoped would be something nice was something absolutely horrifying. "All alone in the house, can’t believe you didn’t lock your doors." Your heart drops to your ass, chest tightening as you stare at the message. You let out a small gasp, trying to be a silent as possible. You want to believe that this is just a sick joke, maybe from one of your friends, but you know they would never scare you like this. After the murders the other day, you knew that this was real.

The television continues to play quietly as you clap your mouth shut. You don’t turn it off, trying not to alert whoever sent the message. They could be inside the house or just messing with you from the outside, but you had no plans on finding out which was the truth. Freezing in your seat as your mind is racing, you try your best to come up with an escape plan. The three main exits to your house are locked, you checked them several times, and you haven't gone anywhere since. You needed to know exactly where they were hiding and how they got in unnoticed.

You cross the front door off your list, too far away and someone might be on the other side. The back door has several locks on it, making it difficult to rush out, it's possible that whoever is hunting you can come up from behind you while you're trying to escape. A single tear drops from your eye, you’re body trembling as you think of the worst possible outcomes. At this point, your only chance is to call for help, not moving from your spot on the couch. Quickly pulling up the dial pad on your phone, you call 9-1-1. Putting the phone to your ear, hand slightly shaking, as an operator answers, "911, what is your emergency?"

You quickly rise up from the couch, trying to be as silent as you possibly can. Before you can answer, clothed hands wrap around your hair, gripping your roots. Snatched backwards, falling over the couch. Your spine connects with the tile, making you shriek out in pain. The wind has been knocked out of you, and the entire room is spinning, you feel paralyzed. Trying to gather yourself as fast as you can, you look up to see a phantom-like figure. Dressed in a black cloak with a twisted mask to match, big build and a silver knife in their hand. The sight was like something out of a horror movie, and you're sure that your role is about to be cut short.

Previously frozen with fear, you find the strength to slide backwards on the floor. Trying to make some space between you and the masked assailant. Every time you slide backwards, they take another step towards you. They’re staring down at you, refusing to make a single sound. You finally find your voice. "Please stop," The words come out small and shaky, matching your current state. They tilt their head, like they’re confused at your pleading. It was clear that you would have to fight your way out of this, they weren’t just going to leave because you begged them to.

You begin to violently thrash, hands flapping around as you kick your feet out. “Help me please,” you scream at the top of your lungs, praying the person on the phone could hear you. The intruder wasn’t fazed by your actions, instead they just watched you act out, not making a single move. A powerful kick sends the reaper to the floor, a muffled grunt coming from under the mask. Pushing yourself off of the floor, you sprint to the phone, quickly snatching it up, “he’s gonna kill me,” you shout into the speaker. Just as you’ve gotten the last word out, you feel your feet get snatched from under you. Back crashing against the floor once again, head hitting the tile. The phone falls next to your head, being kicked away before you could get a hold of it.

Your mind is hazy, eyes clamped shut as you wither in pain. You slowly open your eyes, feeling a body hover over you. The intruder kneeling on your abdomen as they hoist their knife into the air. They bring it down forcefully, your hands coming up to push theirs away. The tip of the knife is inches away from penetrating your chest, barely strong enough to hold them off. Using the force from your hands and your knee, you push them off of you, causing them to stumble backwards and drop the knife. You jump to your feet and rush towards the stairs, knowing there are numerous possible weapons somewhere in your room. As you’ve made it halfway up, you think you finally escaped. Those thoughts are cut short, as you feel hands tugging at your ankles.

You stumble forward, gripping the railing of the stairs. Looking back, the reaper is right behind you, knife in their hands as they try to drag you down to their level. Your body feels weak, lungs feeling empty; it’s nearly impossible for you to continue fighting back. Your strength was no match for whatever they had going on. “This is no way to treat a guest in your home, ___” the voice sending chills up your spine. You nearly let go of the rail out of shock, their voice sounding deep and robotic. “Leave me alone,” you wail, refusing to let go of the railing. You start thrashing, kicking your legs around, hoping to shake them loose.

Your attempt at freeing yourself felt pointless, they weren’t letting go anytime soon and you weren’t sure how much longer you could hold on. You feel a sharp pinch on your ankle, knife piercing through your skin, giving you the worst pain you’ve ever experienced. You let out a loud shriek, tears running down your face as you try to fight through the pain. You couldn’t understand why this was happening to you, or why the were so determined to end your life. “It’ll only hurt a little,” the voice speaks again, as you try and pull yourself up the stairs. They raise their knife again, making your eyes widen. Before you can be impaled again, you kick your feet around violently. One lucky kick sends them crashing down the stairs, where they lie on the floor. Using the railing as a crutch, you quickly limp up the stairs, ignoring the blood dripping down your leg.

As you read the top of the stairs, you bolt down the hallway and snatch your room door open. Once you're inside, you lock the door and begin a frantic search for a weapon. Throwing open your closet, you grab a baseball bat, from the top shelf. Facing the door, you slowly back yourself into a corner, waiting for them to come back. Hands gripping the bat, ready to swing at whoever would come bursting through the door. There was no sounds on the other side of the door, no footsteps, no voices, just complete silence.

After a few minutes, you hear your name being shouted. The voice sounds awfully familiar but you weren’t ready to take any risks. Refusing to move from the spot, you keep the bat raised, prepared to defend yourself. Taehyung's voice can be heard on the other side, frantically beating against your room door. Rushing towards the door, you snatch it open, thankful to see a friendly face. You snatch him inside and close the door, locking it behind you.

Throwing yourself into his arms, you begin sobbing uncontrollably. Hands gripping his shirt as he consoles you, your body still shaking from the previous events. "What happened? I came by to see you, and the front door was wide open," he says, pulling away from you, looking for any visible marks on your body. "I don’t know! "They just came out of nowhere," you struggle to explain the incident voice cracking as you try to stop yourself from crying. "All of the doors were locked, everything happened so fast." Your hands are shaking, and your heart won’t stop racing, while you still have a vice grip on the baseball bat.

"I told you to lock your doors; you're practically inviting anyone in here," Taehyung pulls you in closer, his hands running down your back. As he holds you tightly, you sink into his chest, causing something to fall between you. Slowly pulling away, you look down at the floor, eyes coming in contact with a black microphone. You forcefully push his body away from yours, not looking away from the object on the floor. Taehyung shoots you a look of confusion; his eyebrow raises as you glare at him. You push the tip of the bat against his chest, putting space in between you two. Using the bat, you move him away from the door, not saying a word. You were unsure how he knew you left a door unlocked, just like the message said.

Taehyung doesn't even look at what he dropped, not breaking any eye contact with you. He tries to move closer to you but is stopped by the bat. "Baby, what’s wrong," he asks throwing his hands up. You couldn’t believe him, looking over his face, trying to find a fault in his expression. He keeps his hands held up in defense, trying to prove his innocence. "You’re just in shock, a little confused. Just come here," he says, holding one of his hands out to you, trying to draw you in. You don’t give in to his advances, knowing you can’ trust him. In fact, you slowly walk backwards towards the door, not turning away from him. Using your free hand, you slowly unlock the door, and twist the knob. Before he could move any closer, you swung the door open, and accelerated towards the stairs. You wince after every step, ready to cry, your ankle still throbbing from being stabbed.

Taehyung runs after you, screaming your name and trying to stop you from leaving. His attempts are useless because you ignore him and run towards the front door. You unlock the door and throw it open, prepared to hobble down the porch. As soon as the door opens, you've come face to face with the mask that was previously trying to slaughter you. You’re shouting at the top of your lungs, thinking you’ve come face to face with the perpetrator. The mask is lowered and officer and friend, Seokjin, shrieks back at you, startled by your outburst. You quickly push past him, not wanting to look back at your boyfriend. "He's trying to kill me," you could barely say as you stumbled down the stairs. Before Taehyung could run after you, he was stopped by several officers who were ready to put him in handcuffs.

Raising his hands up, Taehyung glares at you from your porch, watching as you’re assisted by EMTs. "I didn’t do anything, I was trying to help her," he tries to plead his innocence but is silenced by the police reading him his rights. You ignore him shouting after you, as he's thrown into the police car.

_____________________________________

At the police station, you were accompanied by Nayeon, who was consoling you the entire time. Giving you words of comfort and as much support as she could. You cried as you say Taehyung in handcuffs, screaming at you from across the room, trying to prove his innocence. Your statement was taken by her brother, Seokjin, who was tasked with keeping an eye on you. He tried to get ahold of your mother, calling her phone several times in a row. You couldn’t believe that she wasn’t answering, but blamed it on the fact that she was still on the airplane.

A few hours later, you find yourself at Nayeon's house. When you left the hospital, she demanded that you stay with her and her mom, which you did not decline. You could hardly walk, being left by yourself was unrealistic. You sat at the edge of your friend's bed in silence. Your boyfriend just tried to butcher you and probably killed those other girls. Nayeon tried to disrupt your thoughts with videos she found on TikTok, but you couldn't pay attention. You sat on the bed in silence, praying for the night to end.

"Hey, someone's calling for you. I believe it's your mother," Nayeon's mother said as she handed you the house phone and walked away. You place the phone toward your ear, hoping to speak with your mom after your near-death experience. "Mom," you speak into the microphone, waiting for her to respond. You couldn’t wait to tell her about the traumatic experience and how you wanted her to hurry home.

Tears fall down your face as your heart stops beating. Nayeon looks confused, coming beside you to hear what was going on. What you both hear through the phone left you lost for words.

"Surprised to hear you speaking. A few hours ago, you were all choked up."

#don't look too closely #im so sorry for the wait #taehyung smut #bf taehyung #Taehyung oneshot #bts fic #bts horror #bts smut #scream au #i rewrote this entire thing #still not satisfied #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts oneshots #taehyung fic #kim taehyung #bangtan #taehyung x reader #fic: DON’T SCREAM

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