#*pulling up my red string board* | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rosygaze · 2 months ago

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busy woman

pairing: johnny storm x assistant!reader

summary: you’re way too busy at your new job to even remember to eat sometimes. but you could spare a minute or two to pretend not to like it when johnny flirts with you. inspired by busy woman by sabrina carpenter!

word count: 3.9k+

note: help wanted part 2 is here! thank you for all the love on part 1 🫶🏻 i’ve been working on this for like three months and she’s finally here 🥹 i’m definitely planning more stuff for these two but i may need to see the movie before more parts come out lmao who knows! enjoy !!!

< prev part

“Excuse me. Sorry.” You weaved and dodged the hoard of busy employees rushing in different directions. With the looming deadline on the horizon, the facility resembled an ant colony more than an office. Each person had a single goal and that was to get that rocket up in space.

While you couldn’t solve a complicated equation or weld metal, you quickly learned that you were pretty good at being an assistant. You had already built a system and connections with other departments that made it easier for you to do your job. Sue seemed to like you, at least you hoped she did cause it’s only been a month and you realized that you really liked working here.

Currently, you were on your way to deliver the stack of folders in your arms. Across the floor, you spotted the long chalkboard filled with various symbols and numbers that you would probably never understand. Dr. Reed Richards stood at one end, a piece of chalk hovered over the board. You approached him.

“Dr. Richards?” He flinched a little as if you pulled him out of a number-induced trance. “Sorry to disturb you.”

“Ah, you didn’t. You saved me, actually. I needed a break. This equation’s been racking my brain for weeks now.” Dr. Richards crossed out a string of numbers and letters.

“It does look pretty tricky.”

“Tricky’s one way to describe it.” He rubbed his stubbled jaw while he stared at the board in thought.

“I don’t wanna keep you for too long. Sue wanted you to have these documents.” You handed him the stack of files. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly at the mention of his wife.

“Thank you.” He flipped through them and picked out a single folder. “Has she mentioned anything about tonight?” He glanced at you expectantly.

“She’s very excited for your date.” You grinned. Over the past few weeks, you’ve been a firsthand witness of Sue and Reed’s relationship. The sweet nothings they would mumble to each other when they thought you were out of earshot, the extra slip of paper slipped in between stacks of folders, the way they seemed drawn to each other in a crowd.

Definitely didn’t make you feel more single than you already were.

Nope.

“Great.” Dr. Richards smiled shyly. You tried to ignore how red his face had gotten. “You tell her I’ll be done in a few hours and that I promise to be on time.”

“I will.”

“You’re the best.” Dr. Richards turned back to his board and immediately started scribbling. You took that as your sign to go back to your desk. Again, you weaved and dodged the crowd to get back to your desk and get started on yet another task. You were listing down to-dos in your head when you spotted a man by your desk. You sighed and braced yourself for impact.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Jonathan Storm called out as he saw you approaching. He was leaning on the front of your desk. One leg crossed over the other, arms bracing his weight behind him. Big, handsome grin on his face.

“Johnny.” Your voice clipped as you walked around him. You started typing on your computer, trying to ignore him in hopes that he would leave you alone before he could see how flustered he had made you with two words and a smile.

“Busy?” He turned and put his forearms on the edge of your desk, eyes burning a hole in the side of your head.

“Kinda.”

“Gunning for employee of the month?” Johnny picked up a pencil from your cup and started tapping it against the side of your monitor.

“Maybe.” You spared a glance at him. “Do you need anything from Sue?” You tried to divert the attention away from you.

“No, I don’t need anything from my dear sister today.” Johnny sighed and plopped down on the seat you kept in front of your desk for any visitors.

“Then what are you doing here?” You stopped your typing and you fully faced him.

“Wanted to see my favorite assistant.” He shrugged.

“I’m not your assistant.” You scoffed.

“No? Then I just wanted to see you.” A sly grin spread across his lips like the Cheshire cat. You blinked at him for a second, two. Allowing yourself to indulge in his attention until you remembered who he was, who you were, where you are.

You pulled your eyes away from his and looked down at your desk.

“Johnny… You can't say things like that to me.” You strained.

“Why not?” He asked you.

“Cause you work here.” You threw your hands up in exasperation. Could he really be this dense? “And I work here. For your sister, might I remind you.“

“What does that have to do with anything?"

“You can’t…you know.” You moved your hands in the air awkwardly.

“What?” He was goading you now, big brown eyes boring into yours.

“Flirt with me.” You said through your teeth.

“But I want to.”

“But you can’t.”

“You don’t want me to?”

“I-“

He had you cornered. Damn him.

“How about this? I’ll try my absolute best not to flirt with you.” You glared at him but he never wavered. He continued to blind you with that signature Storm smile. “And you can pretend not to like it. Deal?”

“Johnny.”

“Seems like a pretty sweet deal to me.” Johnny put his arms out as if to say ‘See?’. “Just as pretty as you are.” He added with a wink.

“Johnny!” You exclaimed. You couldn’t stop the flush that spread over your body even if you wanted to. Before you could tell him off again, you heard Sue’s voice calling you from inside her office. “This isn’t over.” You pointed a finger at him and narrowed your eyes.

“Oh, I hope not.” Johnny simply smirked and slid down on the chair as if he were lounging on the beach.

The keyboard clicked and clacked away as you typed out a report. The office had gotten quiet, people started leaving a couple of hours ago. Even Sue had passed by your desk and told you not to stay that late. You promised you wouldn’t. You just had a couple more things to do and you could call it a day.

But you thought about how you would save so much time tomorrow if you got a few more things done today. So here you were, neck aching and hands cramping, checking off yet another one of your to-dos.

You rolled your neck around to relieve some of the ache. You really needed to be more conscious of your posture.

“If you keep staying here this late, I think they’re gonna start charging you rent.” A voice echoed through your empty office, making you jump. Your relief turned into annoyance when you saw who it was.

“Johnny, you scared me!” You put a hand to your pounding chest.

“You’re working in a dark office all alone and you get scared by little old me?” Johnny dropped down in the seat in front of you again. “But, don’t you worry. Johnny’s here now and he’s gonna keep all the scary monsters away.”

“My hero.” You said dryly but a smile tugged on your lips. “Nothing better to do tonight?”

“Just keeping you company.” He shrugged. “And making sure you don’t stay here overnight. Do you realize how late it is? You shook your head and checked your watch.

“It’s already 10pm?” You gasped. The nearest window to you was a couple of desks away so you didn’t realize just how late it had gotten. You swore you weren’t working that long.

“Didn’t see the sun setting?”

“Not really.” You mumbled sheepishly.

“Did you leave this desk at all today?” Johnny raised a brow at you.

“Yeah, Sue had me pick up some reports from her earlier.” To which you took to your desk, sat down, and typed out reports for.

“And?”

You rattled your brain. “And… I used the ladies’ room a couple of times.”

Johnny made a ‘tsk’ sound and plopped a brown paper bag on your desk. “Eat up, busy bee.”

“What is this?”

“Food.” He reached inside and tossed something your way. You awkwardly caught it and saw that it was a burger wrapped in parchment paper. “I'm pretty sure you haven't had anything to eat the whole day.”

“How’d you know that?” You said, voice barely over a whisper. Your stomach grumbled as if it remembered what hunger was. Meanwhile, Johnny was already digging into his own burger.

“Well, I’ve been watching you for a couple of weeks now. I know you get so focused on your work that you skip meals.” He picked up a fry from the bag and popped it into his mouth. “And when I saw your car in the parking lot, I figured you'd be in here for another hour or so, so I went and picked up some burgers for us. Lo and behold, here you are. Glued to your desk.”

You were quiet for a second. Since you started here, Johnny had been pestering you. He was nice, of course but he had a knack for catching you at your busiest and talking your ear off. He annoyed you most days, made you smile on others.

Today. Today, he made you smile. Johnny noticed that you were working late and brought you food. You could cry but you weren’t sure if it was because you were touched or hungry.

“You've been watching me? Stalker.” You unwrapped your burger and took a bite. He rolled his eyes at you.

“That's all you got? No ‘I love you, Johnny! You saved me from starving to death!’?”

“Thank you, Johnny. You saved me from starving to death.” You continued to eat your burger and looked Johnny dead in the eye.

“I think you got that first part wrong.” Johnny lifted his brows, expectantly. He wanted to hear the words ‘I love you, Johnny’ come out of your mouth. Fat chance.

“Mm,” You moaned exaggeratedly around your burger, making Johnny shift in his seat. “This is so good. It wiped my memory. Who are you again?”

Johnny chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. Go eat your burger.”

A-choo!

You sneezed into a wad of tissue that you’d crumpled into your hand. You wiped your nose and stuffed it into your skirt pocket. There was a bug going around and you did everything in your power to keep it away from you. You took your vitamins, overloaded yourself with fruits and vegetables, stayed far away from anyone who tried to clear their throat.

And yet. It got you.

You sniffled miserably and went back to taking notes on the engine test Sue asked for. It was hard to focus when you had a pounding headache and a round of coughs threatening to spill out. Shake it off.

“You feeling okay, hon?” A gruff voice asked. You turned and saw the kind, worried eyes of Benjamin Grimm.

“I’m fine, Ben.” Your voice was hoarse.

“That runny nose and wad of tissues sticking out of your pocket says otherwise.” He pointed a finger down.

“That’s nothing.” You shoved your hand in your pocket and pushed everything down.

“If you say so.” He nudged your arm with his elbow. “Take it easy at least.”

You smiled gratefully. Ben looked rough and mean on the outside, piercing blue eyes and a mouth of a sailor to match. You were pretty intimidated by him when you were first introduced but you quickly learned that he was just a big sweetheart once you got to know him.

The two of you continued your work. Ben was helping you make sense of all the technical jargon. After a couple of minutes of note taking, your vision started to get hazy and you wobbled on your heels.

“Okay, let’s take a break.” Ben stated. He gripped your arm and gently pulled you down to a nearby chair. You wanted to protest but he cut you off. “No, no. Sit down. I’ll get you some water.”

You tried to call out to him but that round of coughs you were suppressing finally made itself known. When you were done, you sunk down in your chair. I hate this. You thought. God, you missed the days when your nose wasn’t clogged.

“Hey, so I stayed in last night. Crazy, I know. Who am I?” You groaned. Johnny was gonna rip you a new one. You sat up and put on the most “I’m not sick!” expression you could muster, even slapped your cheeks a few times to get some color back in them. Johnny strolled up, carefree as always. “Anyways, I watched that movie you were talking about last week and- whoa, wait.” He stopped in front of you. Johnny scanned your face with an intense gaze.

“Hi, Johnny.” You said, sweetly, but he just narrowed his eyes at you.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned.

“Nothing’s wrong. How was the movie?” You tried to distract him.

“No, no, no. You look pale.” Johnny put one hand on the back of your chair and bent down to be closer to you. Your face was heating up. You were going to chalk that up to the fever you were probably developing…and not because of his face so close to yours. “Did you forget to eat again?”

“I had lunch.”

“She’s sick!” You looked over Johnny’s shoulder and saw Ben coming back with a glass of water in hand.

“Ben!” You groaned.

“Sick?” Johnny immediately grabbed your face with both hands. “You’re burning up, sweetheart.” Johnny’s voice was soft. His thumb brushed your cheek with a featherlight touch. You leaned into his palm for a fraction of a second. Blame it on your flu-ridden brain.

“Johnny, it’s okay.” You matched his tone.

“What the hell are you doing here? Go home.” He gave you an incredulous look. He took one of his hands away from your face and reached back for the glass of water from Ben. “Drink.”

You took big gulps. You didn’t realize how dehydrated you’d become. “I’m not going home.”

“I’m taking you home.” Johnny put his hands on your forearms and pulled you up gently but firmly.

“You don’t know where I live, Johnny. And I’m not leaving.” You shook your head which was a big mistake. You felt light-headed again and wobbled. Johnny gripped you even tighter while glaring at you.

“Sue!” Ugh. You heard your boss’ heels clack behind you. You turned your head much slower this time. “Your assistant has the plague and refuses to go home.”

“The plague?” Sue raised a brow.

“He’s being dramatic.” You corrected him. Sue put the back of her hand to your forehead and tsk-ed.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve given you the day off.” She crossed her arms.

“We have so much to do.” Your argument was getting weaker every time.

“It can wait til tomorrow. Today, all I want you to do is to rest until you feel better.” She pointed at you.

“But-“

“No buts.”

Fight’s over.

“Fine.” You conceded with a pout.

“I’ll drive her home.” Johnny put an arm around your shoulder and guided you to a walking pace.

“Feel better, hon!” Ben called out to you. You waved back to him.

“Did you like the movie though?” You asked Johnny.

“Loved it.”

The copy machine was slower than usual today and you were getting impatient. You had a pile of 30-page reports that needed 4 copies by tomorrow morning and you were only at number 3. It didn’t help that you picked the wrong pair of heels today and they were pinching your toes. Never, ever wear pointy heels at work.

You fed another piece of paper through the machine and put your weight against it while you tried to alleviate some of the pain on your feet. You rolled your ankles a few times on each side while grabbing the warm piece of paper and placed it with the rest of the copies. That was the last of copy 3. You pulled out the original pages and started the process one last time.

Sighing, you put the first page in. You looked around the office. It was pretty empty at this time, but there were a few stragglers that you knew would start packing up soon. The machine whirred while you took a headcount of who was still here. John, William, Shelley, Johnny….

Wait.

Your eyes snapped back to your desk where a certain blonde was in his usual seat. A smile tugged on your lips and you may or may not have started speeding up your copying. Once the final page shot out onto the tray, you gathered all of your papers and walked back to your desk.

Johnny was mindlessly fiddling with the pens you kept in a mug on your desk. He had his back to you so you would be able to surprise him for once.

“I think people are starting to notice that you spend more time at my desk than you do at yours.” You giggled when he flinched.

“Well, the view here is much better than mine.” He recovered quickly and shot you an easy smile. You shook your head, letting the flirty comment wash over you.

You pulled out the puncher and punched holes through the reports. You opened your box of paper fasteners and started to arrange your copies into their respective folders. Sparing a glance at Johnny, you saw that he was tapping a beat on your desk with a pensive expression on his face.

“Is everything alright?” You asked.

“Why wouldn't it be?” Johnny tried to keep it light but you heard the edge in his voice.

“You're just…” You dragged, trying to find the right words. “Quieter than usual.”

“‘s been a long day.” He let out a long breath. Johnny’s brows furrowed and the corner of his lips turned downwards.

“I heard you went out into the field today.” You fastened the last report into its folder and gave Johnny your full attention.

“Keeping tabs on me?” A ghost of a smirk graced his lips.

“Part of the job.” You shrugged. “Did something happen?”

“I’m grounded.” Johnny said after a beat.

“What?”

“I’m not allowed to fly for a month.” He stopped his drumming and placed his palm flat on the wood.

“Why would they do that?” Johnny was one of the most competent pilots in the program. It made no sense to suspend him like this.

“You know that the new jets came in this week, right?” You nodded to answer his question. “Well, they asked me to test those bad boys. See how fast they’d go. And that’s what I did.”

“That doesn’t explain why they’d ground you though.” You tilted your head in confusion.

“Well, they only wanted me to go up to a certain speed but I knew they could go faster. I could go faster.”

“Did you?”

Johnny smiled, the first genuine one of the day. “I did. Going that fast. Nothing better than that. You just feel so…free.”

“That sounds amazing.” You couldn’t help but smile with him.

“It was. Until I landed.”

“What did they do?”

“Insubordination. That’s what they called it. The jet was fine, by the way. It was built to go that fast. The admiral just has a stick up his ass. I let him know that too.” Johnny said through gritted teeth, hand curling into a tight fist. You could see a flush of red on his cheeks and his breaths getting shallower.

“How long ‘till you can fly again?” You wanted to reach out and touch his hand but you held yourself back.

“A month.” He scoffed.

“Okay.” You sighed in relief. “You’ll still be able to join the launch.”

“Ha, they can try to replace me.” Johnny jabbed a finger on his chest. “They won’t find someone else.”

“Oh, I know. The team wouldn’t let that happen.” You paused. “Neither would I.”

Johnny’s eyes crinkled. “Going soft on me now, sweetheart?”

“Just cause you’re all mopey today.” You teased. “I am sorry, Johnny.”

“Ah, it‘s not your fault.” He waved a hand at you. You frowned.

“But you’re upset and you’re my friend so still. I’m sorry.” You rambled.

“I’m your friend?” He asked, sounding way too happy about it.

“I think so. Do you think we are?” Your voice got quiet, feeling shy all of a sudden.

“I do.” Johnny nodded.

A warm, fuzzy feeling came over you. You didn't know when it happened, but Johnny had become a staple in your life. It was so easy to talk to him. You found yourself drawn to him in a crowd, saving seats for each other every time there was an office-wide meeting. Then of course, you found yourself here on most days. Sitting at your desk, talking about everything and nothing. Some days, Johnny would just sit there and wait for you to finish working. He’d talk your ear off but you realized it was just to get you to stop working and go home.

Johnny was a friend. And a pretty good one at that.

“Do you wanna go get something to eat? I think we both need to get out of this place.” You logged off your computer and shut it down.

“Asking me out?”

“As a friend.” You gave him a pointed look.

“Uh-huh, sure.” He played along, nodding sarcastically. “Unfortunately, I’ve got plans tonight so I’m gonna need a raincheck on that.” A part of you was disappointed but you brushed it off.

“That’s okay. Next time?” You slung your bag over your shoulder.

“Next time. But, thank you.” Johnny locked eyes with you. “For listening.”

“Any time.” You smiled at him. “Ready to go?”

“You go ahead. I forgot something in my locker.”

“Okay, I’ll see you Monday?”

“Drive safe.”

You navigated out of the building and pushed the doors open. Fresh air filled your lungs, something you often take for granted after being in a stuffy office all day. The parking lot was fairly empty. You could see your own car a few rows down and spotted Johnny’s fire red convertible parked close to the door.

What you didn’t expect to see was the woman leaning against it.

You recognized her. She worked here too but in a different department. She didn’t pay you mind when you walked past, too caught up with finding something in her bag. You looked away before she could catch you staring but your brain was going a hundred miles an hour.

Did she know Johnny? Of course, she knows Johnny. Everyone knows him. What was she doing by his car? And most importantly…

Why was this bothering you so much?

Eventually, you made it to your car and started the engine. As you were pulling out of the driveway, you caught a glimpse of Johnny coming out of the building. In the rearview mirror, you watched him walk up to the woman, kiss her cheek, and open the passenger door for her.

You pulled your eyes away and focused on the road ahead. An uncomfortable feeling settled in your gut. You felt a little nauseous but you ignored it, just like you ignored the green-eyed monster that was slowly making itself known.

Whatever.

You were too busy to have a crush on anyone, anyways.

Much less on someone like Jonathan Storm.

next part > (to be continued)

#johnny storm x reader #johnny storm #fantastic four #fantastic four: first steps #joseph quinn #she speaks

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dragoneyelashart · 2 months ago

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under investigation

smut ୨ৎ warnings: g!p billie, daddy kink wc: 2.1k

the case board stretches wall to wall, red string tangled in chaotic brilliance, notes scrawled in billie’s narrow, slanted handwriting. names, timestamps, surveillance photos, scribbled quotes, and maps pin together like the nerves of a monster only she can tame. her eyes flick across it like she's reading something no one else sees.

she stands before it now, half-lit by lamplight, black slacks riding low on her hips, the sleeves of her white button-down rolled up to her elbows. her dark hair’s been pulled back messily, loose strands stuck to the sheen of sweat along her neck. one pen rests behind her ear. another twitches between her fingers, not because she’s nervous. billie never gets nervous. she vibrates on a different frequency. always calculating. always coiled.

you’re supposed to be working.

instead, you’re watching her hands. the way they flex when she gestures. the way her fingers twitch when she’s mid-theory, when the storm is building behind her eyes. you’re watching how her mouth wraps around words like “staging” and “intent.” they way she chews on her pencil when she’s trying to think. how, sometimes, when she forgets you’re in the room, she murmurs thoughts under her breath, fast, obsessive, brilliant. the sound always makes your skin prickle.

you’ve spent enough time in her orbit to know this isn’t just case energy. tonight, she’s restless in a different way. controlled tension radiates off her like heat from the pavement after rain.

and she knows you’re watching her. she’s letting you.

“the victims weren’t meant to be found when they were,” she says suddenly, slicing through the quiet. she lifts one arm and gestures to a map dotted with red pins. “the watches weren’t trophies. they were time stamps.”

you shift slightly on the couch, the leather warm under your bare thighs. you’re cross-legged, your notepad forgotten in your lap. “and the barefoot thing?” you ask, voice low, measured. you’ve learned to keep your tone steady around her. she pounces on anything that cracks.

she turns to you. sharp. that signature, hungry smile curls at the edge of her mouth, the one she uses right before she proves someone wrong or pulls a confession out of thin air. “that’s where you come in, y/n.”

you roll your eyes, lips twitching despite yourself. “you say that like i’m not the one who flagged that both scenes had talcum powder near the bodies.”

she hums, low, approving, and strolls toward you, slow and languid, like a cat circling prey it already owns. “mm. my brilliant little assistant.”

her voice dips on the last word, almost a purr.

heat flares in your stomach.

you don’t move as she approaches. you don’t have to. billie likes to close the distance herself, likes to see if you’ll hold your ground, if you’ll let her invade your space without protest.

you always do.

she stops just in front of the couch, towering over you even without heels. her gaze flickers to your lips, your throat, your exposed knee. she leans in, one hand bracing against the wall behind the couch, the other ghosting near your temple — not touching, just close enough to feel the air shift.

her knee presses between yours. your legs part instinctively. she notices.

“you know,” she murmurs, eyes locked on yours, “you’ve been sitting there for over an hour looking like you want me to pin you to the board.”

your throat tightens. your heart kicks hard in your chest.

you wet your lips. “maybe i do.”

she studies you, unreadable, calculating, for a beat that stretches too long.

then her mouth is on yours.

it’s sudden. fierce. a collision of heat and want and unspoken understanding. her hands grip your waist, strong fingers digging into your hips as she pulls you up, off the couch, with practiced ease. your notepad falls to the floor. her body is already flush with yours by the time your back hits the edge of the desk, cool wood biting through the thin fabric of your shirt.

you gasp into her mouth as her hips slot between your thighs. her kiss deepens, harder, wetter, and you feel yourself unraveling by the second.

she breaks from your lips to trail kisses down your jaw, biting lightly just beneath your ear. her breath is hot against your skin.

“you always taste like trouble,” she murmurs, voice low and ragged.

you try to reply, something witty, sharp, but your brain short-circuits as her hand slips beneath your shirt, palm splayed across your stomach, fingers sliding upward, dragging the fabric with them. her mouth is at your throat now, kissing, sucking, nipping.

and then her hand moves lower.

she doesn’t bother with finesse, not now, not with the way your breath’s hitching. she presses her palm firmly between your legs, cupping you through your clothes, and rubs slow, deliberate circles that send white-hot sparks up your spine.

you moan, hips jerking forward.

her voice darkens with amusement. “so eager, already?”

“billie— daddy—” you try to catch your breath, try to stay present, but her touch is a fuse, and you’re already burning.

she grins against your neck. “that’s what i thought.”

she kisses you again, deeper this time, one hand gripping your ass, the other slipping beneath your waistband to press where you’re already soaked. your legs tremble. her fingers stroke lazily, expertly, teasing you right to the edge of losing control.

then, just as your breath hitches, just as your knees nearly give out—

buzzzz.

the shrill ring of the desk phone slices through the tension like a blade.

you both freeze.

billie exhales a low groan against your neck. “oh, for fuck’s sake—”

her hand stills, but doesn’t move away.

you blink, dazed. “ignore it,” you whisper.

but she’s already turning toward the phone, lips parted in irritation.

the caller id flashes.

inspector heller.

you groan. “tell him to get a life.”

billie reaches for the receiver, but she doesn’t move her hand from your waistband. if anything, her fingers press harder.

as the phone rings again, she glances at you with a look you’ve come to recognize: cold calculation, tempered by something far more dangerous.

a smirk.

she picks up the receiver.

“heller,” she says crisply, voice cool and composed, as if her hand isn’t currently shoved down your pants, as if her thumb isn’t making slow circles over your most sensitive spot.

your breath catches.

you try to squirm, to hold back the moan threatening to escape, but billie pins you with a look that says don’t even think about it.

then she frees herself.

long. thick. flushed at the tip, already dripping.

you’ve felt it before, pressed into your thigh, your stomach, teasing between your legs. but seeing her like this, cock heavy in her hand, shadows flickering over her skin, voice smooth on the call, it knocks the breath out of your lungs.

she jerks her chin.

“under,” she mouths.

your heart skips.

you slide down slowly, knees hitting the hardwood, and crawl beneath the desk. the space smells like cedar and paper and sex. her thighs part. her cock rests against one, throbbing faintly, sticky with pre-cum.

you don’t hesitate.

your lips wrap around the head, soft and warm. leaving soft kisses on her sticky tip. her taste is clean, faintly musky, and your tongue swirls slowly, deliberately. above you, her breath catches.

but her voice doesn’t falter.

“yes,” she says smoothly into the receiver. “tox reports from both scenes. what about blood panel analysis?”

your mouth works rhythmically, your hand stroking the base in time with your tongue. her fingers slide into your hair and tangle tight, not pushing, just holding, a leash made of want.

her hips twitch forward once.

you hum.

billie’s breath stutters.

“timestamp data,” she says, almost too quickly. “i want the autopsy reports cross-referenced with the surveillance pull.”

you take her deeper, hollowing your cheeks, your hand stroking faster. she pulses against your tongue, leaking, jaw tight. her hand tightens in your hair.

she snaps suddenly, “no, i didn’t mean you, just send the fucking files heller.”

she covers the mouthpiece. looks down.

her voice drops lower.

“gonna make me cum on the call, fucking pathetic,” she rasps. “so fucking desperate to please me. come on keep going.”

you moan around her, wet and needy, pushing deeper until your throat burns. her thighs are shaking now. you know she’s close, her grip in your hair tightens, her breath going ragged, jaw flexing.

she finishes the call just barely holding herself together.

the second she hangs up, she pulls you out from under the desk with one hand and hauls you into her lap. you’re straddling her now, her cock hard and slick between your thighs.

“oh, poor baby,” she murmurs, lips brushing your ear. “you’re soaked. look at you. wet from just sucking me off under my desk. that’s fucking pathetic, princess.”

you whimper, grinding down on her. her hands find your hips, bruising grip.

she slides your panties to the side and drags the head of her cock through your folds.

“beg for it.”

“daddy, please,” you breathe, barely coherent. “just want you to ruin me.”

she slides inside, slow and deliberate, filling you inch by inch. you cry out, the stretch, the fullness, the heat. she holds still for just a second, letting you feel it.

then she starts to thrust.

deep. slow. controlled.

each stroke sends shocks through your core. her hand slides to your throat, cupping it lightly, not squeezing, just there. claiming.

“taking me so good, baby,” she pants against your mouth. “so fucking tight. so perfect.”

“please, daddy, cum in me. please. need it, need you” you whimper, the words slipping out, raw and messy.

she growls.

“gone that fucking dumb on my cock, baby? just need me to fill you with my babies, hm?” she murmurs, soft and low in your ear.

your head nods fast, broken strings of “yes’s” falling from your lips.

your nails drag down her back as your orgasm crashes through you. she holds you tight, fucking you through it, hips relentless, voice hoarse.

and when she spills inside you, hot and deep, she bites your shoulder to keep from moaning too loud, your eyes rolled as far back as possible.

you’re both panting.

“next time heller calls,” she breathes, voice rough, “i’m putting him on speaker.”

taglist: @amara-eilish @bilswifee @iamnicoke @jayjaywetforbils @bittersuitekim @bxllxebxtch @bitchesbrokenpromises @ijustlovemaths @ilovealiceosemann @bilssturns @peytonneilish @chrissv4mp @too-sapphic-to-function | send an ask or comment if you want to be added to my taglist!

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lightsoutmatthews · 2 months ago

Note

protective auston has me feeling some type of way lol can you do something similar for willy? something like they are already an established couple and he never had to be protective before so she’s never seen that side of him? thanks!!!

Oh Annon you got my creative juices flowing with that one because I was debating between this and what I wrote for Auston and I was HOPING someone would send in another request. 🙏🏼

I got you – William Nylander

You weren’t used to this side of William.

He wasn’t exactly a hothead, never had been. If anything, William was calm to a fault. He didn’t raise to bait, didn’t snap back when people ran their mouths in interview or chirped him on the ice.

At home, with you, he was easygoing. Chill. Unshakably steady and calm. That was one of the first things you loved about him. He made you feel like you could relax. No drama. No big emotional explosions.

So, when it happened, it caught you off guard.

The two of you had been dating for multiple years at that point. You weren’t still in that careful stage where you pretended things didn’t bother you.

You lived together, shared grocery lists, fought over whose turn it was to do laundry. You knew his morning coffee order by heart. He kept a drawer in the entryway just for your keys because he said you always lost them in your bag.

You had been through quiet nights and loud ones. Road trips. Boring errands. Injuries. Post-game slumps. Summer lulls.

But you had never seen him like this.

It started at a team event. A charity dinner. You were used to those, dressed up, made conversation with executives, sponsors, teammates and smiled for the photos.

Most people were nice. Some were fake-nice. A few were a little too into the whole girlfriend of an NHL player thing, but you learned to brush that off.

The guy who crossed the line didn’t start off as a problem. He was older, some kind of donor or sponsor of the team. He wore a watch that cost probably more than your car and looked like he lived on red wine and bad decisions.

He was talking to you and a few other people near the bar. You didn’t catch his name, just his business card when he slipped in into your hand.

“You should call me some time,” he said, his tone light but with a weird edge. “I do consulting. Media stuff. You´ve got a great look, could be good on camera.”

You gave a polite smile and stepped back half an inch. Not rude, not obvious. Just enough to signal you weren’t interested in his offer. You figured he would take the hint.

He didn’t.

“You with someone tonight?” he asked, like he hadn’t noticed the very obvious fact that you were standing less than ten feet away from your boyfriends table.

William had been stuck in a conversation with a couple of board members, his eyes flicking to you every few minutes like a clockwork. He was watching. Not hovering, just being aware.

“Yeah,” you replied making your voice sound as flat as possible. “I´m here with my boyfriend.”

“Let me guess. One of the players?” he chuckled, like it was a cliché.

“Yeah,” you repeated, less amused.

He laughed some more, leaning in a little closer. “That´s fun. Bet he gets jealous real easy.”

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t have to. You felt it before you even saw him.

William´s presence sliding in between you and the guy like a wall. Not loud. Not even rude. Just there.

“Hey,” William opened the conversation, resting his hand lightly on your lower back, eyes on the man in front of you. “Everything good here?”

The way he said it was casual, but something in his voice was different. Tighter. Like a string pulled taut.

You turned towards him instinctively, he looked at you first, not the guy. You nodded. “Yeah, we´re just finishing up.”

But William didn’t move. Didn’t smile like he usually did with sponsors. He looked at the man, quiet for just a beat too long. Then, still calm, he said, “She´s with me.”

“I gathered,” the guy huffed, like William was being dramatic for stepping in. Still, he looked at him a little more carefully now. “Maybe you shouldn’t leave your girl alone in a room full of men eying her up and down in that dress,” he added regardless.

Now it was William that huffed. “Maybe you should take a hint when a woman is clearly not interested and taken.” He paused for a second. “I remember you seeing us walk in.”

The guy raised his hands in defense. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Sure,” William replied, still even.

The hand on his back never moved, it anything, his fingers curled a little tighter around the fabric of your dress.

It was a short exchange, a minute tops, but it changed something.

The man backed off, chuckled something under his breath, and walked away without another word. Then it was just you and William.

You looked up at him. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, features softening. “You?”

“I´ve had worse,” you nodded carefully.

He nodded too, but he didn’t say anything else. His jaw was tight. Not really angry, but protective in a way that felt new.

You didn’t say much about it first. He stayed close the rest of the night, never smothering but definitely within reach. His hand found yours often and you caught him glancing around more than usual.

It was weird, seeing him like that. Not because you didn’t like it, if you were honest with yourself, you kind of did, but because it was different. Like you had unlocked a version of him you had never needed before.

Back home later that night, your brought it up.

“You dint usually do that,” you opened, slipping out of your heels. “Get, I don’t really know what to call it, protective, I guess?”

William, who was changing out of his dress shirt on the other side of the bed, looked over at you, “No?”

You shook your head. “I mean, you´re not the jealous type. You don’t get weird when people talk to me.”

“I´m still not jealous,” he argued, walking over and dropping onto your side of the bed next to you. “That guy just sucked.”

“He did suck,” you chuckled.

William tilted his head a little, thoughtful. “I didn’t like the way he looked at you. Especially, knowing you were taken.”

“He was a creep,” you offered.

“It wasn’t just that,” he muttered, much quieter than usual. “He didn’t respect you.”

You looked at him, there was something serious about his voice that made you sit up straighter.

“He didn’t listen when you said you were with someone,” he continued. “Didn’t take you seriously because you were with a player on the team. I know you can handle yourself, but I just…” He cut himself off, running a hand through his hair.

“What?” you asked gently.

“I just didn’t like it,” he summed it up. “I didn’t like the idea if you feeling like you had to be polite to someone like that. I know it happens more than I probably realize.”

You were quiet for a moment. “It does.” He exhaled loudly. “Yeah.”

Your reached for his hand. “You were good, though. You didn’t cause a scene.”

“I wanted to,” he admitted. “Like, just for a second, I felt like, I guess possessive. Which really isn’t me.”

“It´s okay,” you hummed. “It didn’t feel like you were trying to control anything. You just showed up. That’s all.”

He laid back on the bed, letting out another loud exhale while staying quiet for a second. “I don’t ever what you to think I don’t care,” he muttered, looking up at you, instinctively grabbing your hand. “Sometimes I worry I come off too chill. Like I don’t notice that stuff.”

You laid down next to him, carefully curling into his side. “You notice plenty,” you mumbled into his bare chest. “And I like that you´re not the type to get into a fight or argument over nothing.”

His glaze softened and he carefully wrapped an arm around you before placing a soft kiss to your head. “But if it’s not nothing?”

You smiled, squeezing his hand that was still resting in yours. “Then I´m glad to know you´ve got my back.”

#william nylander #toronto maple leafs #william nylander imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #william nylander x reader #nhl imagine

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dreaming-medium · 2 years ago

Text

Stray Kids Kinktober Day 10

Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist

Praise Kink - Hyunjin

Word Count: 11.7K

Summary: As a lead detective in the police department, you've been assigned to solve a serial killer case, but you've hit a point where you can no longer work on the case by yourself. Hwang Hyunjin, the golden child of the police department and your sworn rival, is assigned as your partner.

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

You have officially run out of red string.

The cork board in the conference room doesn’t have any more open spaces for new leads or clues. You can’t even see the brown of the board anymore.

Instead of whittling information down, you’ve only come up with more suspects for the case.

It’s better than the case going cold, sure, but it feels like you’re getting further and further from actually solving the damn thing.

It also doesn’t help that you not only have Chief Bang breathing down your neck, but the entire city as well. You understand, really, everyone wants a killer to be caught.

But these sort of things take time.

And they usually don’t have a million and thirty leads. Typically, you were lucky to have one.

Everyone in the city has a tip. And you have to check each and every single one.

Three sharp knocks draw your exhausted attention away from the board.

“Come in!” You call out.

The door clicks open and dress shoes click on the floor.

“I think you’re going to need another cork board soon, Detective.”

Your mood curdles like milk.

“What do you want, Hwang?”

Hwang Hyunjin, the department’s top detective and your least favorite person in the world.

Every case he touches is solved. Every last one of them. But maybe— just maybe— it’s because he gets to pick and choose which ones he’s assigned to.

The golden child of the police department. The biggest, cockiest pain in the ass you’ve ever met.

He clicks his tongue and walks up to the conference table you’re leaning against.

“I have a whole new stack of tips for you.”

The sound of a thick stack of papers hits the table, you cringe.

You haven’t even finished going through the last stack.

“And I am once again humbly offering my assistance on this case.”

You look over at him for the first time tonight. His long black hair is pulled back with a few strands dangling in front of his face.

He wears a pressed dress shirt, black tie, black vest, and slacks.

Truly, it looks like he popped off a magazine cover and you hate it.

“And I am humbly declining. I can handle this on my own, thank you.”

Your own heels click along the floor as you come around the conference table to sit down in front of the first stack of papers.

Hyunjin shoves his hands in his pockets and meanders closer to the cork board.

He looks up and down all the different leads, the ever expanding list of suspects, murder weapons, locations. He’s silent for a long moment.

The only sound in the room is the clock ticking on the wall.

What time is it anyway? You’ve been here since 4 AM when a call came in about another victim. The bags under your eyes surely look like bruises at this point.

Since you started on this case two months ago there hasn’t been a single night where you’ve gotten more than five hours of sleep.

Words are blending together on the paper. Is the sun up?

Warily, you turn and eye Hyunjin, who’s still staring at the cork board. His head cocks to the side as he studies all the different clues littering the surface.

He takes a deep breath and turns to look at you. You point an accusatory finger at him.

“No! No, no. You’re not coming in here and solving my case that I’ve been working on for months!”

His mouth shuts, a smirk appears.

Oh, you want to smack it off his face.

“I was only going to say—“

“No! Nothing! I do not need your help! Get out of here!” You shoo him away.

“L/N—“ he tries again.

“Shut it!”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes and sucks his teeth while making his way to the door.

You glare daggers into the back of his head, praying that a ceiling tile will miraculously fall and crush him.

He grabs the door handle and walks into the hallway. Right before the door closes, he peeks his head in through the crack.

“The killer is ambidextrous,” he says in a sing-songy voice.

A frustrated, muted scream tears from your throat and you hurl the nearest object— which happens to be a metal cup full of pens and pencils— at the door.

It shuts before the cup makes contact.

Hyunjin’s laugh comes through the closed door and it only makes your blood boil more.

You slam your head down onto the wood desk.

“Of course he’s ambidextrous.”

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

“Detective L/N,” Chief Bang’s head pokes into the conference room. “Can I see you in my office please?”

You haven’t gone home yet. You’re in the same clothes as yesterday except now they’re more wrinkled.

Nodding, you put down your pen and tell your chief you’ll be there in a minute.

He hums and leaves the room.

You rub the heels of your palms into your eyes to try and get the exhaustion out of them.

About 100 ounces of coffee is flowing through your body but it’s doing nothing to wake you up, all it’s doing is increasing your heart rate.

To anyone else who wanders through your police department, they might think you’ve escaped the morgue.

The walk to Chief Bang’s office was short.

As soon as you step inside, your heart sinks.

The chief sits behind his desk, but that’s not why your stomach turns.

Hyunjin takes up one of the chairs, another freshly pressed suit on his body.

The man is flawless and it makes you want to become a suspect for one of your cases.

“Take a seat, detective.” Chief Bang motions to the other empty chair.

Hyunjin looks up at you, arms crossed over his chest. A smug smirk pulls on his lips as he takes in your disheveled appearance.

You tongue your cheek for a moment and flip your hair over your shoulder before sitting down. Your fingers iron out deep wrinkles in your pencil skirt.

You try to maintain some level of pride. It’s comical, really.

“Now, I’ll cut right to the chase here, Y/N, it’s not that I don’t trust your abilities as a detective, I do.”

You deflate.

“But this case is becoming too much for one person.”

Your jaw clenches.

So badly you want to refute that claim, to tell Chief Bang that you have it handled, it’s no big deal. But that’s a lie and you both know it.

And the smug asshole next to you definitely knows it.

“Detective Hwang has kindly offered his assistance on the case, so I’m assigning him as your partner on this.”

You think for a moment. “Can I get a different partner? I think Detective Kim just closed his last case, meaning he’s available to help.”

“Detective Kim started a new case this morning.”

“Detective Lee?”

“Busy.”

“Officer Yang?”

“He’s not even a detective.”

“What about Detective Seo?”

Chief Bang stays silent, deadpan eyes watch you. He cocks his head to the side.

You sink back in the chair.

“I specialize in homicide cases, L/N.” Hyunjin pipes up from next to you. “I’m the best one for the case and you know it.”

“Zip it, Hwang.”

Hyunjin scoffs.

Chief Bang rolls his eyes, his patience obviously wearing thin. “Y/N, I’m going to need you to swallow your pride for the sake of the city. There’s a murderer on the loose, remember? You’re my top detectives, it would be stupid not to partner you together.”

You can’t meet his eyes, you look off to the side, crossing your arms over your chest. Anxiously, your leg begins to bounce.

“Put your personal feelings aside, Y/N.”

Silence falls over the room. Both of the men wait for you.

It really doesn’t feel like you have a choice, here. Obviously, you don’t.

“Fine.”

“Great!” Hyunjin taps his hands on the arms of the chair and then pops up. “I’m going to need access to all the files you’ve been looking at these past two months as well as the extra key to the conference room.”

He grabs his trench coat off the back of the chair.

“I’ll also need you to catch me up to speed on the latest tips from civilians; you did have time to read those last night, right? Additionally, I think we should rearrange our hours so that we’re on duty together until this is solved.”

He makes his way towards the door.

“Come on, L/N! We’ll discuss over coffee.”

You stare at Chief Bang. He offers you a slightly amused, slightly sympathetic smile.

“Best of luck, detectives.”

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

The hot mug rests between both of your shaky hands. Hyunjin sat across from you in a large diner booth.

Files littered the entirety of the top of the table. It’s all things you’ve seen before and practically have memorized by now.

You explained everything you knew to him from the beginning, sparing no detail.

College girls were all found murdered in their dorms. No security footage of anyone going in or out of the building that doesn’t belong there.

Each victim is about two weeks apart.

A half eaten fruit cup sits next to your coffee. ‘Fruit cup’ is a loose term since more than half of it was honeydew melon.

Why can’t they just throw a few strawberries in there? Slice up a banana or toss a few blueberries in? They already have the fruit in the back for the pancakes, it would be so easy to—

“I don’t think this victim is from the same killer.”

Your head snaps up and you glare at Hyunjin. “Who?”

He slides the file across the table to you. “Andrea Bowman. She doesn’t fit the same profile as the other victims. All the others were blonde, Andrea has brown hair.”

You sip at your coffee, glazed eyes scanning the file. You’re simply too tired to keep up the anger.

“I had thought the same thing at first. But according to the coroner, her time of death would put her as the first victim of the killer, first victims of serial killers tend to not fit the profile of the rest since it’s the first taste.”

Her autopsy stares up at you.

“Plus, everything else is consistent with the rest, bruised wrists and ankles and a slit throat. They’re all college aged girls who went to the local community college.”

You slide the crime scene photos around, taking in all the details.

“Maybe she wasn’t his victim.” One of her school photos peeks out from the bottom of the stack, you pick it up and look at it solemnly. “But something tells me she was his first.”

Hyunjin watches you closely, any rebuttal he had died on the tip of his tongue.

Plates clatter in the kitchen.

Your nose scrunches and you pack away Andrea’s file.

“You said they all go to the same school?”

“Yeah, the community college.”

“Did they all study the same thing?”

You shake your head, taking another sip of coffee. “Nope, all different fields of study, all different extracurriculars. They didn’t even live in the same dorm building.”

Hyunjin leans back against the booth and picks up his iced coffee, taking a long sip while staring out the window.

Your fingers run through your hair. “I requested their transcripts and class schedules from every year but I’m waiting on all those requests to process. With how slow the registrar’s office is taking you would swear they didn’t want this case solved.”

“Red tape always gets in the way.” Hyunjin reaches down in his pocket and takes his phone out, tapping a few buttons and then holding it up to his ear.

You cock an eyebrow at him, he only holds up a finger at you. You scoff.

“Dianne? Hi, it’s Hyunjin!… I’m doing so well, and you? … That’s great to hear! … Yes, yes those homemade cookies were to die for.”

Your mouth falls open a bit. Who in the hell was he talking to? Homemade cookies?

Throwing your hands up in front of your face, you give him a flabbergasted look.

He narrows his eyes at you and gives you a look that says ‘be quiet’.

“Listen, I was actually calling to cash in a favor, I have a list of students I need transcripts and schedules of for a case. … I can email it over to you, it’s for the— … yes, yes that one.”

You slow blink at him. Does he have a contact at the registrar’s office? Of course he does, why wouldn’t he have one?

The golden child strikes again.

“You’re a darling, Dianne, thank you. I’ll send it to you asap. … of course, say hello to Rob for me. Bye!”

He hangs up and puts his phone back on the table.

Hyunjin takes one look at your face and shrugs. “What? I helped her with a personal matter when I was a P.I.”

If you roll your eyes anymore, they’ll go into the back of your head.

“So do you have a list—“

You interrupt him. “Yeah.”

“Can you—“

“Mhmm.”

You finish your coffee and reach into your purse, digging out a ten dollar bill and tossing it onto the table.

“Where are you going?” He asks you.

“Home,” you respond simply while shuffling out of the booth. “I haven’t slept since Monday.”

Hyunjin looks down at the various files on the table. “What about the list?”

You move the files around and pull out one of the papers and place it in front of him.

“It’s right here. I’ll see you tomorrow, Hwang.”

“Tomorrow? But what about—“

“If Dianne gets the list back to you, just forward it to me. I’ll look at it when I wake up.” Your voice is full of venom.

“I really think we should look at it together.” His eyes narrow. “We’re partners on this, remember?”

“As if you would even need my help,” you spit out. “By the time I come in tomorrow, you’ll probably have the entire case solved, the perp arrested, and all the paperwork done before I even pour my coffee.”

The more you talk, the more your anger levels rise. You lean over him in the booth, one of your hands on the back of the seat to keep you balanced.

Hyunjin’s eyes widen and he leans back as you go forward.

“The golden boy will strike again, solving a case that I’ve been working on for months and getting all the credit. Because that’s just how good you are. Mr. Perfect. Everything about you is just amazing.”

He gulps and shifts around. A red tint creeps up on his face.

And for the first time since you met him, Hwang Hyunjin is speechless. His mouth opens to say something several times but no sound comes out.

“Now. If you’ll excuse me.” You stand back up and turn on a heel, leaving the diner and a very flustered detective behind.

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

Knock after knock after knock after knock bangs on your apartment door.

You’re not sure of how long whoever’s been knocking has been at it, but it takes you a solid thirty seconds to wake up fully. You had peacefully drifted into a very deep sleep the moment your head hit the pillow.

The entire bedroom is pitch black, the sun no longer in the sky. The clock on your nightstand displays that it’s around 1 AM.

“What the fuck?” You slur out. It’s so hard to open your eyes right now.

The knocking persists.

With all the grace of a drunken newborn deer, you slither out of bed and make your way to your front door.

You flip on a light on your way there.

Staring through the peephole, a frown pulls at your face as soon as you see who’s banging on your door at this ungodly hour.

You rip the door open, startling Hyunjin. His hand still hangs in the air when you open it.

“Finally!” He shoves past you and into your apartment.

“No, please, come on in.” You growl and shut the door, securing all the locks in place again.

Behind you, you hear him slam a stack of papers onto your kitchen island.

“I forwarded you the transcripts hours ago but you didn’t answer.”

“I told you I would look at them when I woke up.”

He takes in your disheveled appearance with judging eyes. Your hair was all frizzy and out of place, a loose t-shirt hung off one shoulder and was so big you couldn’t see the shorts underneath.

His Adam’s Apple bobs with a swallow.

It was obvious he wasn’t used to seeing you in such a relaxed state. He was still wearing his dress pants from earlier, but he only had a dress shirt on with his trench coat over the top.

“You’re awake now, aren’t you?” He looks back down at the stack of files and opens them up, spreading papers everywhere.

You come up to the table and look down at everything.

Semesters of different class schedules stare back at you. Some have highlighted portions, others are still blank. He seems to have given up in the middle of doing it himself, opting to bring it here.

You tongue your cheek, looking over what you can see so far.

It’s going to be a long night.

“I’ll make coffee.”

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

Hours have passed, the sleepiness and weariness of being woken up has been replaced by the delightful thrum of caffeine in your veins.

After about a half an hour of going through the transcripts, you quietly asked Hyunjin if he was alright with you playing music softly.

He stared at you with wide eyes, “Ah, yeah, of course, that’s fine.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m just… not used to you asking for permission before doing something.”

Grumbling, you rolled your eyes and picked your phone up to scroll through playlists. You settled on a calmer one full of music from artists like Lord Huron and Tom Rosenthal.

Since then the two of you have been silently going through each schedule.

Biting the end of the highlighter absentmindedly, you study the class schedule.

“I’m only seeing one similarity.” You say out loud. Hyunjin looks up. “This one class, it’s a gen ed Physics class. But each of these girls took it, all at different times though.”

“Which class?”

“PHYS 100. Same Professor– Dr. Furon.”

“Do you think we should bring the professor in for questioning?” he asks.

“Couldn’t hurt. Right now he’s the only common denominator. Is it anywhere on your transcript?”

Hyunjin flips through the pages. “Yep, right here, her freshman spring semester back in 2020.”

You pull out a sticky note and write down that info.

“Can you go through each one and tell me when they took the course?”

Hyunjin gathers all the stapled packets of papers up. “Yeah.”

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

You and Hyunjin stood shoulder to shoulder looking through the one way glass.

A near ninety year old man sat on the other side.

“So,” Hyunjin says to break the silence.

“So.”

“It can’t be him.”

“Obviously.”

Another long moment of silence.

He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Do you want to question him or should I?”

You sigh, watching as the professor fidgets with a loose string on his sweater sleeve. The officers had completely forgone the handcuffs, allowing him to sit at the table freely.

They also rolled in a comfier chair and gave him a cup of coffee.

“My case. I’ll do it.”

“ Our case.”

“Shut it, Hwang.”

You make your way into the interrogation room with a notepad tucked under your arm.

The professor looks up as soon as you open the door. He shakily stands up from his seat with proper manners.

You smile gently. “Dr. Furon, thank you so much for taking the time to come down.”

Both of you shake hands before sitting down. His grip is not firm whatsoever.

Arthritis.

“Oh, it’s no matter. Happy to be of help.”

You place the notepad down and scoot your chair in. “I’ll get right to it since I can see you’ll be our best help here. When analyzing the list of victims, we saw that each of them had taken your class before. It’s a small lead, I know, but it’s too much to sweep under the rug.”

He nods, listening carefully. He blanches and leans back. “I didn’t realize I had each of them. There are so many students in each section, there’s not enough time to learn names.”

He shakes his head.

“I had recognized a few in the paper, but I try not to do too much digging, it hurts too much to look into. I don’t know how you detectives do it.”

You reach across the table and grab his hands warmly. “I feel the same way about physics, I don’t know how you do it. All those equations.”

Dr. Furon cracks a smile. “Someone has to. But I do have help with all my courses. Each student has a specific discussion section once a week with a smaller class size, but they’re all taught by graduate students.”

You jot that down on your notebook and lean your chair back. You knock once on the window.

“On it.” Hyunjin’s muffled voice comes through the glass.

“Just one more question, Dr. Furon, I won’t take up any more of your time, this has been very valuable. Are there any students or people that you come in contact with that maybe trigger some alarm bells or a gut instinct?”

He shifts around, he really thinks about it.

“I really can’t think of anything, detective, I’m sorry. The girls’ names that I recognize were normal students too, granted they weren’t the best, but I do know they were doing their very best. Breaks my heart.”

You scribble that down and stand up.

“Thank you very much for your time, Dr. Furon. We greatly appreciate your help.”

He nods and stands up as well. “Of course, if I can do anything else, please give me a call.”

“If you think of anything else, here’s my card.” You reach across the table and hand him a small business card.

You showed the professor out of the room, asking if he needed anything. He patted your arm sweetly before leaving.

When you turn around, Hyunjin is standing there, waving a file around.

You roll your eyes. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

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

Your apartment has become the unofficial meeting place for both you and Hyunjin once your shifts are over. The department wasn’t great for concentration.

They say not to take work home with you, but your home is so much cozier.

It’s only about 8 PM. Takeout containers take up a small portion of the kitchen island.

Another pot of coffee is brewing.

“So, between the victims, there are five different graduate students that taught their discussion sections. And one of them graduated last year.” Hyunjin flips through his notes.

You run your hands through your hair.

“So, four graduate students.”

“Yep.” He pops the ‘p’.

“Do we have any information on the four students?”

“No, but we have enough cause to bring them down to the station for questioning.”

You sigh and pick up your phone. “Let’s do that, then.”

A message is sent off to Chief Bang, he replies immediately saying he’ll contact them immediately and have them brought in and that he’ll call you when you can come in.

“I just don’t think it was any of the graduate students.” Hyunjin adds, sliding papers around to grab a victim’s file.

“I agree.”

He doesn’t seem to hear you. “Two of the graduate students are women— women don’t commit murders like this, the other two are masters in their field with promising careers.”

“I know, I agree with you, Hwang.”

“And I just don’t think that— wait, you agree?”

You stare at him with a blank expression. “Yes, I agree with you.”

He shifts around on the seat. His mouth opens and closes a few times before actually speaking. “You agree?”

Rolling your eyes, you place the papers down on the table. “Hwang, you know I would rather die than agree with you, but in this case, yes, I agree, I think you’re right.”

“Oh.”

Looking back down at the papers, you absentmindedly read a sentence in one of the witness statements. “I know you get the job done, I’m not going to put personal feelings before a case.”

Hyunjin fidgets more. “So, you think I’m a good detective?”

Is he serious?

You roll your eyes, still not looking up. “Yes, Hwang. Chief Bang has proclaimed you as one of the greatest detectives— everyone at the station knows that.”

“I just didn’t think you thought that way.”

“I’m not here to stroke your ego, Hwang.”

He clears his throat and shifts forward on his chair. “But do you , Y/L L/N, think I’m a good detective?”

Putting the paper down on the counter, you look up at him with a cocked eyebrow and a frown. “Really? Do your work.”

“Not until you say it.” He smirks and crosses his arms over his chest.

Rolling your eyes, you look down once more. What was on this page again?

“Choke.”

Hyunjin takes a breath to say something, but your phone lights up with a call at the same time. Expecting it to be Chief Bang, you answer quickly.

“Detective L/N.”

“Detective!” An old voice comes from the other line. You pull your phone back to look at the unknown number and then bring it back to your ear.

Hyunjin’s attention peaks at your confusion.

“It’s Dr. Furon, I apologize for calling so suddenly.”

“Oh, hi Doctor, it’s no trouble at all.” You look around for your notepad.

“Put it on speaker,” Hyunjin hisses while leaning forward. You shoo him off. He reaches forward to grab the phone from you, you smack his hand.

“I remembered something I didn’t get a chance to say earlier, I’m so sorry I didn’t think of it,” Dr. Furon continues.

“That’s quite alright, it’s the reason I gave you my number. Now, what is it?” You grab a pen and a random piece of paper.

Hyunjin reaches again, you smack his hand once more. “Speaker!” He grumbles again.

Dr. Furon talks, unaware of the petty brawl happening on the other line. “All of the students that are struggling in my class, I point them to the tutoring center in the library. As far as I remember, the names that were in the paper, the ones I recognize at least, they were going to the tutoring center.”

Your eyes widen and you write it down quickly.

Hyunjin’s patience wears out, he stands up from the counter and comes around to your side, his face dipping down to press his ear to the other side of the phone.

“Is there only one tutor available for your class?” you ask, jotting down notes.

“I’m not sure, I’m sorry. You know, now that I think of it, on their final exams, I give extra credit if they write down that they went to tutoring and name their tutor.”

“Do you have those exams?” Hyunjin asks into the phone. You reach over and flick his forehead. He swats your hand away.

“Oh, Detective Hwang, how are you?” Dr. Furon says politely.

“I’m doing very well, thank you.”

You go to smack him again, he once more swats your hand away.

The professor comes back to the conversation. “I have them but they’re in my office. Would you two mind coming to campus to get them tomorrow?”

“Of course,” both you and Hyunjin say at the same time.

You sneer and push his face away.

“Great!” Dr. Furon gives you all the details for tomorrow and the two of you hang up.

Placing your phone on the counter, you stand up to get away from Hyunjin.

“You could've put it on speaker.”

“You could’ve been patient!” Grabbing the nearest object— a tissue box— you hurl it at him.

Hyunjin only laughs and catches it.

“Putting more coffee on?”

“Obviously.”

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

“It’s the same one,” you say incredulously, flipping through the exams that Dr. Furon had given the two of you.

While you got the papers from the professor’s office, Hyunjin had gone to the tutoring center for a list of tutors. Apparently he had a connection there as well.

The two of you now sat in the conference room with your original cork board to the side. New leads and pictures right smack in the middle.

You had spent the day questioning the graduate students, but as you suspected, it was a dead end. No one knew anything.

The exams spread over the table were the best lead.

“It is,” he mutters in agreement and disbelief.

“Eric Rowan.”

“Do you think…?” Hyunjin trails off.

“I do,” you state clearly. “I really do.”

Shaking your head, you flip through the exams over and over to make sure you’re right, to make sure you’re not looking past something.

You’re not jumping to conclusions, are you?

Hyunjin suddenly stands up from the table and makes his way to the door. “I’ll have the chief get someone to bring him down to the station.”

He didn’t even give a second thought to your decision.

The door clicks after him. The silence inside the room is deafening.

It would be perfect if you could play music like you do at home.

“Eric Rowan,” you whisper solemnly.

One tutor from the library at the university.

It would make sense.

Hyunjin had managed to get Eric’s entire tutoring log, every student he’s ever tutored had been included.

You were able to highlight each and every one of the girls’ names that were victims of these heinous crimes. There were about two weeks of time between their last tutoring session and when they were found dead.

One name stuck out, one name brought you an endless sigh of relief: Andrea Bowman.

It made your skin crawl, but you instantly noticed she was the first female he tutored during his time.

Slowly, the pieces started clicking. Your throat got a bit tight, it was difficult to swallow the emotions.

You look around and grab her file underneath a huge stack. Her school picture is the top photo paper clipped on the inside.

Andrea’s smiling face will haunt you for a long time.

Hyunjin came back into the room, you didn’t look up.

“Chief just sent someone out to get him, we’re getting interrogation room two ready for him, I think that— L/N?”

Your head snaps up and you sniffle.

“Sorry,” your voice is hoarse.

He shifts his weight in the doorway. “Everything finally hitting?”

You bite your lip and look back at Andrea’s picture. “Yeah.”

Standing up from the table, you close the file and tuck it underneath a few more.

“The guy hasn’t even confessed yet, I’m getting ahead of myself here. It just makes too much sense. These girls stopped going to see him two weeks before he killed— supposedly killed them.

“It just reads so clearly. He probably made a move, they felt uncomfortable so they stopped seeing him for tutoring, he couldn’t face rejection, so he killed them. It’s fucking sick.”

You roll your shoulders and look up at the ceiling. “Am I being too hasty? It just feels right, like … like these girls are cheering for me and telling me I’m right.”

The door shuts behind Hyunjin. He weighs his words carefully and walks up to his jacket, grabbing it off the back of the chair he sat in before.

Those perfectly polished dress shoes click on the floor. It echoes off of each wall.

“There’s one thing I’ve always lacked as a detective.” He folds the trench coat over his arm and walks up to you. “It makes me so mad that I don’t have this, it would help with so many of my cases.”

You watch him warily. There’s a sad smile on his face as he takes in your frazzled mood.

You’ve never worn your heart this freely on your sleeve before.

With a sigh, he reaches up and taps on your forehead. “Women’s intuition.”

For the first time, you have no response for him.

As far as Hwang Hyunjin goes, this is the closest you’ve ever gotten to a compliment from him, or even an acknowledgment of your skill.

Your lips stay sealed.

“I’ve never not trusted your judgment. Ever. If your gut is saying this is the guy, then this is him. When have you ever been wrong?”

Your mind is reeling.

Did he just compliment you again?

Heat rises to your cheeks. Your stomach flips.

“I’ve always been so jealous of that. You just… know.” He shrugs and looks around, a small tinge of pink on his cheeks. “When the pieces finally fit into place you’re fucking brilliant at solving everything so fast. What’s that about?”

A sad laugh tumbles from his lips.

“This case would’ve taken any other team months to solve, but you and I did it in two weeks. Maybe we should work together more often, Y/N.”

There’s no way he said that.

He’s jealous of you?

And did he just call you by your first name?

He stares down at you for a couple of seconds. Maybe you were imagining it, but you could swear that his eyes flickered to your lips more than once.

“Come on then, we have an interrogation to do.”

Hyunjin turns on a heel and makes his way to the door.

“Thank you,” you call after him. Hyunjin’s hand pauses on the door handle. “Thank you, Hyunjin.”

He doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t acknowledge what you did— the favor you just returned.

He doesn’t speak on the new level that your relationship just crossed nor the mutual respect that you two just shared.

Nothing.

You don’t even get to see his face when you call him by his name for the first time.

But, by the way his shoulders square and his head twitches, you know it affected him.

Wordlessly, he nods and opens the door, leaving it open for you as he walks into the hallway and towards the interrogation rooms.

Hwang Hyunjin, the golden child of the police department, considers you to be on the same level as him. Who would’ve thought?

Maybe he’s right, maybe you should work together more often.

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

Hours and hours and hours have gone by.

Hyunjin as well as other officers have been grilling Eric for what seems like days. But it’s only been about 18 hours.

The bags under your eyes feel like bruises.

Three empty coffee cups and one full one sit next to you as you stare through the one way glass.

Hyunjin’s pacing around the room with his hands in his pockets.

His tie is loose around his neck, the sleeves of his button up are rolled up, his hair is tied up out of his eyes.

He’s been trying to go the good cop route for the last 3 hours. Slowly, that act has been dropping; Eric is getting on his last nerve.

You both let Eric sit in the interrogation room by himself for 4 hours leading up to this to get to his head. It didn’t seem to work. You can only legally keep him here for forty-eight hours.

If anything, he’s only gotten more agitated.

Hyunjin walks up behind Eric, he reaches one arm down to the table.

“You’ve never seen any of these girls before?” Hyunjin slides a few photos towards them on the table.

“No.” Eric answers quickly. “I’ve already told you that.”

“I just think it’s interesting you’ve never seen any of them, Mr. Rowan. You tutored them. All of them.”

“Do you realize how many students I tutor on a daily basis?”

Hyunjin barks a laugh. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn't realize you were that popular.” He comes around the table and opens a file.

Hyunjin pulls out one specific page, and reads off the top. “Actually, here we go, I know exactly how many students you tutor. Let’s see here: ‘Eric Rowan works two days a week in the tutoring center, Tuesdays and Thursdays.’ Last week you tutored 3 students total, and they were all returning students— how interesting!”

He slams the paper down onto the metal table. Eric jumps.

“Only three returning faces to your tutoring session, Mr. Popular. And here’s the funniest thing; I’ve noticed that there’s no women on this list. Weird.”

Eric’s eye twitches.

Hyunjin takes a seat across the table, folding his hands on top of a notebook.

“Have you ever had a girlfriend before, Mr. Rowan?”

Eric scoffs and shifts around in his seat.

Your interest is piqued, you sit up straight in your chair and lean forward.

Why did he get so nervous all of a sudden?

Eric picks up the cup of water that he requested and takes a long sip from it. Hyunjin waits patiently.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant to anything, Detective.”

Hyunjin laughs and opens the file. “See, I thought you would say that. My chief also asked the same question.”

Said Chief, who has been standing behind you for the better part of 5 hours, most certainly did not ask that. Chief Bang snorts quietly at the lie.

“But you know what, we detectives have to do our due diligence.” Hyunjin opens a file and slides a large printed photo out across the table. “Recognize her?”

So many different emotions fly across Eric’s face: anger, loss, betrayal, depression, rage, hurt. The muscles in his face dance as they try to settle on an expression.

“No,” he grits out.

An obvious lie.

“Interesting.” Hyunjin pulls out another photo and slides it across. “Because just by taking a quick look at your social media profile, I can see how this girl was your girlfriend . Look, here you are together! Leah Miller. Pretty girl.”

Eric says nothing. He can’t look away from the picture.

“Most interesting part I noticed was that you haven’t posted anything with her in about a year. What happened? Breakup? They suck, hm? Sorry, should I have said ‘ex-girlfriend’ before? My bad.”

You can’t help but smile. Hyunjin’s always been brilliant in interrogations, you can’t deny that. You’ve only ever heard rumors about how he is on the other side of the one-way mirror.

Sneaking a peek at the picture of Leah Miller, your eyes widen. She fit the profile: long, blonde hair and sweet, light eyes.

More pieces fall into place.

“It’s none of your business,” Eric grits out between clenched teeth.

Chief Bang shifts behind you and grabs the back of your chair. Obviously he senses it too, a confession, a slip up, anything. It’s showing its head.

“What? What are you saying?” Hyunjin laughs. “It’s exactly my business. That’s quite literally what my job is, you know, to know your business. It’s the same reason I know that you asked out Andrea Bowman during one of your tutoring sessions and she rejected you.”

“That’s not—“

“Oh, sorry, is that not how it happened? Did you maybe try and make a move on her and she rejected you that way? Maybe you put an arm around the back of her chair? Classic.”

“I-I didn’t—“

“Not that one? Understood.” Hyunjin nods and flips through the pictures on the table. “Oh, did you use the old ‘give me your number just in case you need more help’ trick? Used that on a girl in college, myself. Of course, it worked for me.” He winks at Eric.

Eric is fuming, his face is turning redder and redder, the vein in his forehead is popping.

“Here we go,” Chief Bang whispers under his breath.

Your mouth is agape, you’ve heard about Hyunjin in interrogation rooms before but you’ve never actually seen it.

It’s like he’s dancing with fire so beautifully. He’s twirling a flaming sword with a silver tongue.

“I think Andrea rejected you and then when she never came back for more tutoring, you lost it. You looked up her campus address in the internal systems, because guess what, you have access to that as a tutor, and you went to her dorm room, and you killed her.”

“Wh-What? You’re way off base here, Detective.” Eric stutters, his eye twitches again, his leg starts bouncing under the table.

He pulls on the cuffs keeping him to the table.

Hyunjin you’re so close, come on, come on.

“Funny!” Hyunjin exclaims and slides another piece of paper across the table. “Here’s the search history in the library computer with your login credentials!”

Eric gapes, his mouth opens and closes several times.

“You know what, maybe you didn’t go to Andrea’s dorm with the idea of killing her. Maybe it was a grand romantic gesture, yeah, that seems more like it— flowers and everything.” He slams another picture on the table.

A bouquet of flowers was found at Andrea’s crime scene.

“You presented her with the flowers. And she rejected you. Again. ” Hyunjin’s voice is getting louder and louder, crescendoing with Eric’s anger and heart rate.

Your breathing picks up. Both you and Chief Bang stop moving.

“Stop,” Eric suddenly pleads. His hands shoot up to cover his ears but they’re stopped by the cuffs.

The metal clinks and pulls, they dig into his wrists.

“She rejected you twice! To your face! But you couldn’t take that for an answer. God, why did she do that? Why did she turn you down when you were just trying to be nice? ”

Hyunjin stands up slowly from the table, towering over Eric.

“She was just like her, she was just like that bitch that broke up with you? She tore your heart out and spit on it! She was no better than Leah! So, you knocked her out and you tied her down to her own fucking bed in hopes that she would just hear you out!”

“Stop, stop!”

“Because maybe if she just listened she would understand that you’re just a genuine guy trying to be a good boyfriend to someone! You’re so nice, you’re such a good guy, no one likes good guys anymore, huh? And, of course Leah didn’t see that either!”

“ Stop! ”

“She tried to scream for help, so you killed her. You slit her throat without a second fucking thought for anything! And it felt so fucking good, didnt it? It felt so good to finally take power back from her? So, you didn’t stop.”

Tears spring from Eric’s eyes as he squints them shut, his body physically curling in on itself. He writhes around, unable to get far because of the handcuffs.

“So you kept going, and you went after women who looked just like Leah. And it felt amazing because every single time you could picture her face as you slit their throats. Each and every one of them babbling for mercy, crying out for their mothers, to only choke on their own blood—“

“ FINE! ” Eric screams, slamming his fists on the table. “I killed them. I killed each and every one of the fucking bitches. And I fucking wish I could have killed her too!”

The sudden seemingly endless torrent of sentences comes to a screaming halt.

Hyunjin sits down on his chair once more with a huff.

And just like you did yesterday, he leans back on his chair and knocks once on the window.

It takes you a second to find your voice after witnessing the most amazing, jaw dropping interrogation you’ve ever seen.

“G-Got it!” You say loudly through the glass. “We got it. Oh my god!” You stand up quickly from the chair and turn around to Chief Bang, who has an equally surprised expression. “We got it! ”

He stutters for a moment and shakes his head to clear his mind before speed walking out of the side room to get officers to arrest Eric.

Eric Rowan, who is now pathetically sobbing in his chair.

Eric Rowan who signed his confession with the opposite hand that he’d been using to drink his water.

Eric Rowan who is ambidextrous.

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

It’s so weird to see your kitchen island devoid of files and endless stacks of papers after the last few weeks.

Eric was taken in for booking. Your job was over.

Well, it was over for now. Chief Bang gave you and Hyunjin a week off and then you’re due back in the office for the next case.

Plus, you’ll have to be at Eric Rowan’s trial since you were the lead detective on the case.

So maybe ‘over’ isn’t the best way to describe it.

More soft music plays from your speaker as you clean up the rest of the files. A large t-shirt draped over your body, it practically covers the shorts you have underneath.

There’s a couple knocks on your door. His knocks are so distinct. You’ve gotten so used to them over the past two weeks.

“Come in, Hwang!” you call out.

The door opens and shuts.

“I think I left a few things here,” he says kicking his shoes off in your entryway.

You hum in response, gathering up files to stack them neatly.

His soft footsteps pad up behind you.

“I don’t think I ever saw your countertop, is this granite?” he teases over your shoulder.

You snort a laugh. “Yeah, it is. Came with the place, so don’t ask any more questions.”

Putting the stack down, you turn around and come nose to nose with Hyunjin. He is so much closer than you thought he was.

You jump slightly and back up a bit, your hips hitting the countertop.

Hyunjin doesn’t move.

“I didn’t get to see you after the interrogation,” he says with a quieter voice.

Not able to hold his searing gaze, you look off to the side and cross your arms over your chest.

“Yeah, well, you know how the hustle and bustle can wrap someone up after a case closes. Next thing I knew, Bang was sending me home.”

Hyunjin takes a half step closer to you. “What did you think?”

“Hm?”

“What did you think of the interrogation?”

So many sarcastic, sharp retorts die on your tongue when you remember the conversation that the two of you had earlier.

But still, complimenting him was about as easy as petting a cactus.

“I told you I’m not going to stroke your ego, Hwang.”

He takes another step towards you, both of his arms come up to cage you to the counter.

Heat rises on your cheeks more and more with each passing second. You refuse to meet his eyeline.

“Humor me, L/N. How was my performance today?”

Tonguing your cheek, you roll your eyes. Your heart rate picks up at his proximity. Why does he smell so good?

The last time the both of you had an opportunity to shower was two days ago.

He still smells like aftershave and expensive cologne.

“It was good, okay? You got the guy.”

“ We got the guy, L/N.”

“Yeah, yeah, golden boy, we got him.”

He knows your sarcasm is empty. Just by looking at your flushed face he can tell you don’t mean it.

“Come on now, L/N.” Long, lithe fingers grip your chin and turn your head towards him. “You can do better than that.”

Your jaw clenches. Arousal shoots down your spine like an electric shock.

Fuck.

Closer and closer his alarmingly handsome face inches closer to yours. The beauty mark under his eye seems more prominent than ever.

His mind is one of a brilliant detective, but god, that face. He should’ve been a model.

You bite the inside of your cheek and when you try to look away from his deep eyes, the grin on your jaw tightens.

“Come on, L/N.” He smirks. “Tell me how good I did today. Say it.”

The brat inside you decides to surface. So, he wants to go this route, hm? “Why do you need me to say it so badly, Hwang? Everyone else in the department is so far up your ass, they can wear you like a hat.”

He rolls his eyes, his body pressing against you entirely. Your arms uncross and you reach back to grip the countertop next to his hands.

It shouldn’t feel as good as it does. You should be shoving him away, slapping him across the face, spitting on his shoes. But instead you relish in the feeling.

“Yes. But they’re not you. ”

Your eyes widen and the corner of his mouth twitches. He knows he has you in the palm of his hand. He just needs to break you more.

But does he really?

Finally, he brings his lips closer and closer to yours. He pauses right before he makes contact, giving you a chance to say no.

Nothing of the sort tumbles out.

The first kiss he presses to your lips is nothing short of devouring.

His soft, plush lips consume yours like he’s a starving man at a feast. You meet his enthusiasm with fervor.

Hyunjin’s head tilts to get better access to your mouth. His eyebrows pull together in concentration, he almost looks like he’s in pain.

The fingers on your chin move down to your neck, he wraps his hand around it, thumbs on top of your pulse point, but he doesn’t squeeze.

Your hands tentatively reach for him, grabbing at his dress shirt and tie, pulling him even closer to you.

A small moan comes from the base of his throat and through his nose. Hyunjin’s other hand grabs your hip possessively.

“Say it, L/N,” he hushes between kisses, completely out of breath. “Tell me how good I am.”

How is it that he has this sort of possessive grip on you and yet he’s putting the ball in your court?

A small boost of confidence courses through your veins.

“Can’t you just admit it already?” he adds.

Smirking, you say nothing. One of your hands threads into his long hair and yanks his face back to yours for another bruising kiss.

He huffs through his nose once more, but kisses you nonetheless.

Twirl after twirl of his tie around your hand tightens your grip. With the last tug, Hyunjin moans once more into your mouth. The hand on your throat squeezes a bit.

“L/N,” he pleads again against your lips.

You tug hard on his tie. Hyunjin loses his balance slightly, his knuckles turning white from grabbing your countertop so tight.

Bringing your lips to his ear, you blow hot air on the sensitive skin first. He shivers against your hot body.

At the same time, your bare foot travels up the back of his clothed calf, your thigh brushing against his hip.

“If you want my approval that badly, you’re going to have to earn it.”

Hyunjin makes a choked moan, “Fuck,” he whispers under his breath. The hand on your hip tightens. The fingers wrapped around your throat twitch.

“How does that sound, Hwang? You be good to me and I’ll let you know how well you’re doing.” You roll your hips against his.

Your words have an obvious effect on him, the hardness that presses to your leg says it all.

Hyunjins lips drop down to your neck, he bites the soft skin where it meets your shoulder. “Fucking hell, L/N, don’t play hard to get.”

Humming, you roll your head back, enjoying the sensation of his mouth on your skin. “I’m not playing anything, I already told you how to get what you want.”

Licking and sucking his way down your neck, his teeth nip at your exposed collarbone. The hand on your throat slides backwards and into the hair on the back of your head.

Your bottom lip pulls between your teeth to stop a moan from leaking out. You pull Hyunjin’s tie to keep his face there.

“Just like that, golden boy, your mouth feels so good.”

His hips involuntarily buck into yours at the praise, he whimpers against your skin. “ Shit, ” he curses into your neck with a hot exhale.

You wrap your entire leg around his waist and roll against him more. His mouth stutters, but afterwards he sucks hard . A bright purple hickey already surfaces when he detaches.

“L/N,” he murmurs into your neck. You hum in response. “Can I take this off?” He tugs at your shirt.

You smirk. “You can.”

When your hand unwinds from his tie, Hyunjin backs off of you. His face is already so fucked out; eyes are half-lidded and hazy, his lips are so puffy and swollen, spit glistening off them in the soft kitchen light.

From all your pulling, Hyunjin’s hair is all askew and coming out of its usual ponytail.

He wastes no time, grabbing the hem of your t-shirt and yanking it over your head, he throws it behind him carelessly. His eyes light up at the sight of your bare chest, tongue poking out to lick his already slick lips.

You chuckle.

“You gunna touch me or what?” you tease. “Or maybe you don’t want it that badly.”

Hyunjin’s jaw clenches and he meets your eyes. The look he’s giving you is dangerous.

He huffs once and grabs your waist tightly, lifting you up off the ground and sitting you on the cold granite. The sharp temperature change against your flushed skin makes you shiver.

Hyunjin parts your legs and stands between your thighs, his head dips down and envelopes one nipple in his mouth.

“Fuck!” you cry out, grabbing a fist full of his hair.

One of Hyunjin’s hands trails up your leg to grab at your exposed thigh while the other comes up to play with your other perky bud.

His eyes shut in his own pleasure. That tongue is absolutely relentless, licking circles around your nipple to flick over it a few times and then sucking.

Your toes are already curling, legs wrapping around his waist to get him closer to you.

“How about now, L/N?” his hoarse voice whines against your spit covered chest. “Is this good for you? Does it feel good?”

The more he talks, the more you can’t tell if he’s teasing you or genuinely asking for his own sanity.

“It feels fucking amazing, Hwang, keep– shit – keep going.”

Hyunjin takes in a shaky breath and switches sides, your fingers yank on his hair and he whines again around your nipple.

You let him continue for a while, relishing in the feeling of his spit dripping down your chest and onto your navel. The wet licks and sucks bouncing off the walls combined with his own small whines and your loud moans.

Roll after roll of your hips grinds against his hard tent in his dress pants. After a few minutes, your hips seem to have a mind of their own, your soaking wet cunt seeking friction against anything to satiate the need for contact.

The more he licks at your chest, the more Hwang Hyunjin continues to drive you insane.

“H-Hwang,” you pull his attention. His eyebrows furrow as you yank him away from your purple marked chest.

When he finally detaches, he looks up at you, panting.

“Touch me, touch me, please . I can’t fucking take it.”

His shoulders curl forward like you knocked the air out of him.

With more strength than you thought he had, he scoops you up and wraps your legs around his waist while smashing your lips together again.

You cling onto him for dear life while letting your tongues slide over one another.

“Hah,” you pant out in between kisses. “You’re doing so fucking well.”

He whines.

“Could’ve made me cum with just that tongue on my tits. Such a shame.”

Hyunjin drops your body onto the couch without a warning. You squeal and bounce on the soft cushions.

“Hwang–” your voice dies in your throat when you catch the sight of him standing on the other side of the sofa arm.

The change in his demeanor gives you whiplash.

His eyes are dark, almost black. His chest is heaving with heavy pants. Those long fingers are tugging at his tie, until it's loose enough for him to rip off his neck.

Your knees tuck up a bit towards your chest as you watch him with wide eyes like prey.

Hyunjin reaches down and snatches your ankle, he tugs on it harshly. You yelp as you’re dragged forward into a lying position.

Coming around the sofa, he swings one knee over you to straddle your hips. One by one he begins to unbutton his dress shirt, never once breaking eye contact.

Each sliver of skin that is revealed is devoured by your eyes greedily. Never once has he so much as undone the top button on his collar at work.

Shamelessly, you rake in his athletic build.

“You want to cum with just my tongue? Okay, L/N, I can do that.”

Your heart thuds in your chest.

He shrugs his shirt off and drops it to the floor. Hands grab at the waistband of your shorts and yank them off with your panties in one swoop. Another article of clothing to hit the floor.

The cold air against your soaking wet folds makes you hiss slightly.

Hyunjin stares down at your arousal, biting his bottom lip. Lower and lower he descends until you can feel his heavy exhales against your cunt.

He pushes your thighs apart, putting one over his shoulder, your heel settles into the dip of his spine. He’s smirking the entire time.

Finally, he tears his eyes away from your folds to look you right in the eye.

Your jaw clenches and you watch as he licks all the way from your entrance, up to your clit, circles around it to go back down to your entrance again.

An immediate shockwave of pleasure shoots through your body down to your toes. You toss your head back with your mouth agape, a silent scream stretching your lips.

Hyunjin keens at your reaction, doing the same maneuver again before focusing his attention on creating the most sinful figure eights with his tongue.

Your hand flies down to grab at his hair, shoulders arching off the couch. “Shit, shit, H-Hwang, feels so– hah – s-so good.”

He moans into you, the vibrations go right through you.

With your heel on his back, you can feel how his back curves as his hips rut into the couch underneath him to relieve some pressure off his aching cock.

Praises fall from your lips like water falling over rock. Each one makes Hyunjin whine and kick it up a notch.

“That fu- uh -cking silver tongue, holy shit .”

Hyunjin moans loudly, he grabs both of your hips, nails digging into your skin with deep scratches. It only makes you cry out louder, pulling on his hair even harder.

The tie in his hair comes out completely. You toss it away from you and gather up his hair in between your fingers to keep it out of his eyes. It feels like silk.

A coil within you begins winding tighter and tighter. The more he licks and sucks, the higher your cries get and the tighter your abdomen feels.

“Feels so good, it feels fucking amazing ! S-So close! Shit, please make me cum, please, shit!”

Each word makes Hyunjin sutter and moan into your folds, his eyebrows pulled like he’s in pain. Harder and harder he ruts into your sofa, his nails digging into you so much you think he might draw blood.

It’s taking every ounce of his will not to spill out in his pants at your praise. At your begging .

One of his hands comes up and kneads at your chest. His thumb rubs over your nipple a few times and that’s all it takes for the band within you to finally snap.

Your orgasm washes over you so hard it’s like being hit by a bus.

With a silent cry, your entire body tenses up. Hyunjin’s movements slow down, but he still coaxes you through your climax with that skilled tongue of his.

He hums into your folds, licking up every last drop of your juices.

You come down from your high slowly, chest heaving up and down, every exhale is paired with a moan. Shockwaves still ripple through your thighs.

Hyunjin’s eyes open and he stares at you, his mouth going over to bite your inner thigh. You squeal and squirm.

Slowly, like a lion, he gets up and crawls over your form, keeping eye contact. Once he’s close enough, he captures your lips greedily. Your arousal is still all over his tongue. It’s swapped between the two of you with your spit.

Your hands reach down and fumble with his belt buckle. Hyunjin makes no move to stop you, instead, he pushes you further.

“Look at that,” he pants, looking down at your fumbling hands. “So desperate for my cock, huh, L/N?”

Your eyebrow twitches. You undo the buckle and reach down to grab his rock hard erection through his pants.

Hyunjin’s elbows buckle at your touch and he grunts, squinting his eyes shut.

“All talk, aren’t you? Once I touch you, you crumble .”

“Shit!” His eyes snap open and he bucks into your hand. “Because– ugh –, like I said, it’s you . Fuck ,” he moans when you squeeze him again over his pants.

“Keep going,” you tease. “Keep going and I’ll keep stroking this fucking monster cock you keep tucked in these pressed dress pants of yours.”

He exhales shakily while you unbutton his trousers.

“When were you ever going to fucking– agh – realize that you drive me fucking insane, L/N?” His eyes start to unfocus when you push down the waistband of his pants and boxers down his thighs.

Fucking hell . Has he always been packing this?

“God damn, Hwang.” Your hand runs up his length. Hyunjin shudders and closes his eyes. Your touch is so featherlight he thinks he’s going insane.

His eyebrows twitch and hips buck forward to try and reach your touch.

“I’m not hearing a lot of talking.” You lean up and attach your lips to his neck, continuing to only trail the gentlest of touches up and down his throbbing cock.

The head is red and angry and weeping precum.

His body trembles. “ Shit – I wanted you for so long, L/N. You drive me– fuck – insane. Every single fucking day I did whatever it fucking took to get your attention.”

Finally, your hand wraps around his length tightly and you start pumping very slowly. The long, pathetic moan that tumbles from Hyunjin’s lips is something of sin.

He sounds so relieved yet even more aroused at the same time.

You continue to suck your own marks onto his perfect skin. Sweat drips down the side of his face and down his now slick back.

“ Ughhh – L-L/N…” He buries his face in the crook of your neck.

Your hand stops moving when he stops talking.

He cries out into your neck, hips frantically bucking into your touch to chase it. You only chuckle in response.

“ Please! ” He whimpers.

“Keep going then, golden boy.” You suck a sensitive spot underneath his ear.

Another stutter of his hips.

“I begged the chief to put me on your case!”

Your pumping picks up speed again, his entire body rolls into yours. You grip him tighter and jerk him faster.

“I said– ah – I would do whatever case he wanted next if he– ffuuck – let me work with you on this one– oh my god! And I still would, I would do whatever– mmmph – case I need to to fucking work with you every day. Agh! ”

Despite your outwards nonchalant expression, on the inside, his words are fucking killing you. The throb in your cunt that was satiated moments ago comes back with a vengeance.

To hear Hwang Hyunjin at your mercy is going straight to your core. Each noise he makes goes straight to your pussy.

“God, fuck , L/N, I-I’m close. Please, god , shit.”

After a few more pumps, you stop, taking your hand away completely. Hyunjin cries into the crook of your neck again, his body rolling and rutting the air at the loss of contact.

“Please, why, fucking hell , I was so close!”

You grab the hair on the back of his head and yank his head up to look down at you. His eyes are cloudy, ears and cheeks bright red. Sweat drips down the side of his face and over his sharp cheekbones and jawline.

“Wouldn’t you rather fuck me?”

His face twists up with another moan.

Hyunjin dives down and captures your lips in the sloppiest kiss of the night. He’s messy and desperate the longer he kisses you.

While trying to stay attached to your lips, Hyunjin fumbles around to kick off his pants and boxers.

Both of you finally naked together, he grabs his cock in his fist.

“I-I’m not going to last–”

You cut him off with a sharp tug to his hair. “Fuck me, golden boy, don’t you think you deserve it after today?”

His eyes practically roll back in his head.

As soon as he’s lined up with your entrance, Hyunjin slides into you slowly. Inch by inch you’re stretched open,

He might not be thick but god, he is long .

With his mouth on yours, he swallows each moan and cry of pleasure. Without wasting any amount of time, he pulls out to slam back into you.

Both of you moan out together.

Your arm wraps around his neck. He rests his weight on one elbow and the other wraps around your shoulders to hug you close to him. His hand splays out between your shoulder blades to keep you anchored against his sweat slicked chest.

The skin to skin contact sends both of you wild.

Over and over again his hips undulate to thrust into you in the most delicious way. The angle of his hips brushes his pelvic bone against your clit with each slam against you.

“You feel so fucking good,” you whine into his ear.

Hyunjin’s next thrust hits a bit harder. If praise makes him fuck you harder, then so be it.

“God, your cock is amazing.” Harder. “Hitting me just right.” Harder. “Never knew you would feel this fucking good.”

With his mouth on your neck, he leaves sloppy hickeys wherever he can reach. His pants fill the room and mix with your whines.

His head suddenly dips down to take your nipple into his mouth once more. You keen and toss your head back, hips canting up. The new angle has his cock slam right into your g-spot.

A loud scream tears from your lips. Hyunjin immediately picks up on this and picks up the pace, making sure he hits that spot every time.

If you thought your first orgasm had a sudden build up, it’s nothing compared to this one. There’s a sudden pressure increasing in your lower stomach.

“Fuck!” Thrust . “So good!” Thrust. “Oh my god!”

Praises and noises fall from you, you don’t even realize what you’re saying anymore. The pleasure has your mind in the clouds.

“Y/N,” the sudden use of your name grabs your attention. Hyunjin comes up over your face with a pleasure twisted face.

“Say it, please, please , I’m fucking begging you , please, say it.”

Your eyebrows pull together, mouth still hanging open. What does he want you to say that you haven’t said already?

“ My name. Say it, please, please, please, please–”

Oh, fuck.

You smirk and watch as the desperation drives him wild. Even in the deepest throes of pleasure, you string him along for a few more seconds as you approach the edge.

Closer and closer you come to the edge.

He whines, begging louder and louder as his own climax creeps up on him, the muscles in his body tightening more and more.

He needs it so bad.

“Y/N! Please! ”

Just as you’re about to tumble over, your mouth stretches open.

“Fuck, Hyunjin! ”

The loudest moan you’ve ever heard from a man comes falling out of his mouth as he buries his face into your neck. Hot, sticky warmth shoots within you in long, drawn out spurts that match with Hyunjin’s whines and groans.

His hips stutter for another twenty seconds before his moans finally calm down.

Both of you hold onto each other tightly, heaving heavy inhales and exhales to catch your breath.

Absent-mindedly, your hand begins to rub up and down Hyunjin’s clammy back, drawing small circles and lines onto his skin.

He hums into your neck and holds you closer for a moment before collapsing onto the couch on top of you.

Surprisingly, his weight on top of you doesn’t seem to phase you; instead it brings the same comfort as a weighted blanket.

After a few more minutes of you silently rubbing his back, Hyunjin begins to lazily press kisses onto your bruise covered chest, paying extra attention to your collarbones.

The kisses are soft and sweet, nothing like the lust coated ones from before.

“Did you mean it?” you ask him quietly.

He pauses his kisses only to answer you. “Mean what?” He starts kissing you more.

“That you asked Bang to work on the case.”

He chuckles against your neck, his hair tickling your skin. “Oh, yeah. It took entirely too much convincing.”

You laugh with him and keep him close to your body.

In the back of your mind, you know you should get up, that he should pull out and the two of you should shower and drink water, but you can’t seem to distance yourself from him.

There’s no harm in sitting there for a while anyway.

Hyunjin hums into your neck again, “Thank god we have the week off.”

You couldn’t agree more.

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x y/n #hwang hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #stray kids x y/n #skz x y/n #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic

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yoongleboonglepie · 4 months ago

Text

Pechsträhne Masterlist

Genre: Horror ish au, paranormal au, hurt/comfort, slow burn, romance, psychic au, eventual smut, friends to lovers, Mystery, BTS ot7 x reader

Rating: 18+: Keep that in mind as this is at its core a paranormal/heavy theme rooted in history and myth, and some things are emotionally disturbing or spooky (so be prepared for potential gore/violence or scary elements). Read at your own discretion as I will only be putting trigger warnings for things that can pose severe safety risks to those affected. All else, like I said it is a spooky and mystery au.

Y/n Wörner left the Wörner Hotel and Estate nearly 5 years ago in an attempt to run away from a family argument that put a firm divide between her and her parents. She was managing fine, for the most part -save for the constant existential crisis of what she should do with herself and her life. That was until an invitation for the 150th anniversary of their family hotel ended up shoved in her mailbox on Thursday morning, and for no rational reason she found herself running back; unable to stop the pull to return home to her family and friends who live on the grounds. Once she arrives, however, it becomes inarguably apparent that things are very wrong. The ghosts of her long past family who were once friendly, are now vengeful and violent. Her friends are divided by secrets, mystery, and fear- changed in tandem with the ghosts she used to love. She has to relearn how to balance who she knew her friends as children, and who they have become in the recent years as a result of the darkness that threatens to drown them in its wake. She knows that something is threatening her home and her friends, but she doesn't know what. And if there's one thing about Y/n Wörner, it's that she's not a quitter. No ghost or demon will stop her from getting the answers she needs- even if it means they have to try and kill her before she gets to them. Because what does she have to lose?

The answer is everything. She could lose everything. Because unfortunately for everyone involved, the spirits seem to take the previous statement as a personal challenge.

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Main story,

Chapter 1 - 2/16/2025

Chapter 2- 2/19/2025

Chapter 3- 2/22/2025

Chapter 4- 2/24/2025

Chapter 5- 3/1/2025

Chapter 6- 3/10/2025

Chapter 7- 3/15/2025

Chapter 8 - 3/20/2025

Chapter 9 - 3/28/25

Chapter 10 - 4/6/2025

Chapter 11 - 4/11/2025

Chapter 12 -4/21/2025

Chapter 13- 4/27/2025

Chapter 14 -5/4/2025

Chapter 15 - 5/16/2025

Chapter 16 - 5/23/2025

Chapter 17 - 5/30/2025

Chapter 18 -6/7/2025

Chapter 19 -6/21/2025

Chapter 20 -6/30/2025

Chapter 21 -7/5/2025

Chapter 22 -7/21/2025.

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Trick or Treat! (Random thoughts, blurbs, or lists)

What does each character's room smell like...

Pieces of Red String for you to Follow if you Dare...

Namjoon Character Moodboard

Seokjin Character Moodboard

Yoongi Character Moodboard

Hoseok Character Moodboard

Jimin Character Moodboard

Taehyung Character Moodboard

Jungkook Character Moodboard

Pinterest Boards

Family Tree of Y/n Wörner

(new) Historical Archives of the Wörner's (Part 1)

Photos of rough outline of the estate (not hotel)

Morse code clues, chapters 7 and up: x x x x x x x x x

Find chapter and character playlists here:

Spotify

_________________________________________

Youtube music

Fanfic recs

P.S: to avoid spoilers, I use a spoiler tag on asks for new readers to avoid if they want to. And If you ever want to look for asks where I've answered questions before, you can check the Chillin with Delyn tag!

Do not repost anywhere or steal my writing/story. Thx.

Obvious disclaimer: this is just fiction and not actually about the bts members, they are simply face cards and names here. Enjoy, love you lots.

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pensthoughts · 3 months ago

Note

Wait…actually I’m the person who asked about the cowboy! Van x farmer’s daughter! Reader. Maybe Van like…comes up to the farm one day and asks stuff to r. Maybe some smut??? Like a little

Set: 1920s

Paring: Butch Cowboy! Van x Farmers Daughter! Reader.

Fluffy/Angst/a tiny bit of smut.

dust & honey | v.p

a/n: you don't understand i freaked out when i got this request. i seriously live for an au so i got straight to writing this as soon as i got it lol. i really hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!! pairing: cowboy!van x farmersdaughter!reader summary: stumbling into a small town to buy honey, a cowboy van ends up finding something much sweeter word count: 5.2k warnings: smut towards the end

the bees were already agitated that morning.

you'd been out by the hives before breakfast, smoke can in one hand, trying to calm them down before the sun got too high. they buzzed in tight, angry circles like they knew something was coming, like the air was holding It's breath. you wiped your brow on the back of your glove and stepped away, leaving the boxes humming behind you.

your father stood in the yard, crouched by the broken wagon wheel, brow furrowed and hat pushed back. "it's cracked clean through," he muttered, giving it a nudge with his boot. "i need you to ride into town and get a spare from harold."

you nodded. "anything else?"

"twine, if they've got any that ain't rotted. and that tonic your ma used to buy from the back shelf—my lungs been actin' up again."

you shifted your weight, brushing dust from your skirt. "ms. matthews asked about honey last week. want me to leave her some of the batch?"

he gave a tired smile. "you always think of everything, don't you?" he straightened with a quiet grunt. "yeah, drop her off a jar. and don't let harold try to short you on the wheel. he still thinks you don't know what you're talkin' about."

you raised an eyebrow. "maybe i'll remind him."

your father laughed once, dry and low. "that's my girl."

you packed light—two jars of honey in your bag, your coin purse, and a bit of twine wrapped around your wrist like a charm—and saddled the horse instead of taking the cart. dust clung to your boots before you even reached the road.

town wasn't far, but the ride felt long with the sun beating down overhead. it wasn't big—just a string of old buildings, a few shops, a blacksmith's shed, and the chapel that lost its bell pull over the winter—but it was the kind of place where everyone noticed when someone new walked in.

you tied your horse in front of the general store and climbed the porch steps, the boards creaking under your weight. misty quigley was already out front, sorting envelopes into neat little piles on the crate beside her.

she looked up when she saw you and grinned. "well look who's alive. i was startin' to think your daddy locked you in the barn."

you rolled your eyes but smiled. misty had been in your sunday school class when you were kids, always a little too eager with the scissors during arts and crafts. now she worked part-time delivering the mail and full-time poking her nose where it didn't belong.

"just pickin' up a few things," you said. "pa's wheel cracked again."

"harold's got a whole stack of 'em in the back," she said. "and don't let him sell you the warped one like he did me. that thing spun sideways down the hill like it was runnin' from soemthing."

you laughed, pushed open the door, and stepped inside.

the store smelled like sawdust and dried tobacco. the ceiling fan spun slowly overhead, stirring the heat without doing much to move it. you were halfway to the counter when you saw her.

she was leaning against the wood, one boot crossed over the other, looking like she didn't quite belong but wasn't trying to fit in either. red hair tucked behind her ears, sunburn just visible on her nose, and a wide-brimmed hat pushed up off her brow. her shirt sleeves were rolled to the elbows, and her hands rested loosely in her back pockets. like she was waiting, but not in a hurry.

you slowed your steps without meaning to.

harold stood behind the counter, wiping his hands on a rag. "his daughter just walked in," he said to the woman. "you can ask her yourself."

the woman turned. her eyes landed on you like they'd been there before.

"you the one with the bees?" she asked, voice steady, a little rough like she hadn't talked much that morning. she had an accent, but it wasn't distinctly from around here. almost like she picked up pieces from different places.

you blinked. "that depends. you lookin' to get stung?"

she cracked a smile at that—quick, crooked, and real. "just hopin' for honey. the real kind. not the corn syrup harold's selling with that fake label."

harold muttered something under his breath about ungrateful customers and ducked into the back.

you adjusted your grip on your bag. "we've got clover jars left. the spring batch's lighter, but sweeter."

she stepped forward a little, just enough that the scent of leather and sunlight followed her. "mind if i stop by the farm to buy some?"

your heart stuttered for a second. "you could. but i can leave a jar here if you're just passin' through."

she shook her head. "rather see the place. never been out that way."

something about the way she said it made your skin buzz. she stuck out her hand. "van palmer."'

you took it. her handshake was firm, but not rough. just...confident. like she knew exactly how to hold on, and when to let go. but she didn't. not right away.

"nice to meet you," you said, a little breathless. "i'm—" you hesitate, just for a second, then tell her your name.

she grins. "nice to meet you too."

before you could say anything else, taissa turner walked in through the back with a crate in her arms. she used to come around the farm during the summers, back when her aunt lived up the hill near the orchard. you hadn't seen her much lately, apparently she's saving up to go to school. she gave you a quiet nod as she passed, eyes flicking between you and van with something close to curiosity.

van watched her go, then turned back to you. "seems like you know everyone in town."

you shrugged. "that's what happens when you never leave."

van didn't smile this time. "maybe not such a bad thing."

the store felt smaller with her in it.

you cleared your throat and reached into your bag, setting one of the honey jars on the counter. "in case you change your mind."

she glanced down at it. "guess i'll be seeing you soon."

and then she turned and walked out, spurs tapping the wood like punctuation.

taissa was already setting the crate by the counter when you moved to follow, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"wheel's in the back," she said, standing and wiping her hands on her jeans. "you want the newer ones. harold's been trying to offload the old stock again."

you gave her a grateful look. "thanks. i'll owe you one if it rolls straight."

tai smirked. "i'll put it on your tab."

the two of you walked through the back door and into the storage shed, the heat sticking to your skin like syrup. rows of cluttered shelves lined the walls, and in the corner sat a stack of wagon wheels, some leaning, some wrapped in cloth.

you crouched beside the pile, giving them each a careful once-over. "so," tai said, leaning casually against the doorframe, "you met the newcomer, right?"

you glanced up. "van?"

she raised an eyebrow. "so you caught her name."

you rolled your eyes, choosing a wheel with clean spokes and a smooth rim. "she was asking about honey."

"she ask about anything else?" tai's voice was light, teasing, but curious underneath.

you hesitated. "just where to get some."

taissa grinned. "mhm. well, she's staying around a while. might want to pace yourself."

you didn't reply, just adjusted your grip on the wheel and nodded toward the front. "mind if i settle up?"

"yeah, come on." she opened the door for you, and the two of you stepped back into the store. you counted out the coins while tai scribbled the amount in a worn ledger. "tell your dad he still owes me for last time."

"he says you overcharged him for the twine."

"that's 'cause he picked the good kind." she gave you a lazy salute. "safe ride back."

you pushed through the door, stepping out into the bright afternoon—and nearly walked straight into van.

she was standing by the hitching post, hat tipped back, chewing the corner of her thumbnail like she was thinking real hard about something.

"didn't figure i'd catch you again," she said, squinting at you in the sunlight. "you know if there's anywhere in this town a girl can sleep without ending up in the river?"

you blinked. "you plan on makin' enemies that fast?"

van gave a half-smile, eyes sweeping down to your boots and back up. "only if they ask nicely."

your stomach did something traitorous, and you adjusted the wheel in your arms like it might ground you. "there's a boarding house. run by the matthews, just past the chapel. i'm heading that way now, if you want to follow."

her smile deepened. "guess i'll walk with you, then."

you weren't used to walking through town with anyone but misty or your father. and van wasn't like either of them.

as you made your way down the main road, dust kicking up with every step, she kept pace with you, hands in her pockets, boots slow and steady on the dirt. she asked questions between glances at the buildings—who lived above the bakery, what happened to the old chapel bell, if the mayor was always drunk or just liked to pretend.

you answered where you could. "that's the tailor's window there. the one with the blue curtain. she has a cat names pickles that sleeps in the basket by the display."

"you name all the animals in town?" van asked, grinning.

"only the important ones."

you could feel her watching you more than she was watching the town. it was like walking beside a thundercloud with a crooked grin, quiet but electric. her compliments weren't loud—just little things, soft and careless, but they landed sharp anyway.

"didn't picture you with bees," she said, after a stretch of silence.

you raised an eyebrow. "what did you picture me with?"

she shrugged. "something sweeter."

you opened your mouth, then closed it. you didn't know how to flirt with a girl. you'd never tried. but it didn't feel like something you had to try with van—it just was, and that scared you a little. not because it was bad, but because it was unfamiliar.

you rounded the bend and pointed. "that's the boarding house. big white porch, pink flowers in the boxes."

van looked up at it like she was memorizing it. "looks like the kind of place where you get offered tea you don't want but say yes to anyway."

"it is," you said. "and they'll talk about you the second you leave, so be polite."

"guess i better behave," she said, tipping her hat. "thanks for the escort, sheriff."

you laughed under your breath and nodded towards the owners home, conviently placed next door. "i've gotta drop something off. i'll see you around?"

van hesitated, then smiled. "i sure hope so."

you watched her step up the porch, knock once, then disappear inside.

you turned and headed next door, up the stone path to ms. matthews' garden gate. but when the door opened, it wasn't her.

it was lottie. the town clairvoyant. or the town nutjob, depending on how you put it.

her hair was pinned up and loose at the same time, wild strands catching the breeze. she wore a soft lavender dress and no shoes. there was a faint smear of flour on her cheek.

"hi," she said like she'd been expecting you.

you blinked. "i—uh—i was dropping this off for your mom." you held up the jar of honey.

she tilted her head. "she's at choir. i can take it."

you handed it over, and she held it like something fragile. "the bees were angry this morning," she said suddenly, not quite looking at you. "they get that way when the air's shifting."

you opened your mouth to respond, but she kept going. "you met someone today. a readhead?"

your stomach flipped.

"she's staying nect door," lottie said, turning the jar slowly in her hands. "you should save the sweeter jar for her."

you swallowed. "how did you—?"

lottie smiled, serene and distant. "she's going to your house tomorrow. you might want to start a loaf. just a feeling."

you didn't know what to say to that. the wind rustled through the garden, bees buzzing in the distance like they were laughing to themselves.

"thank you," lottie said, and turned toward the door, as if the conversation had ended.

you stood there a second longer, then stepped down the porch, heart thudding hard in your chest.

she was going to your house tomorrow.

and you didn't know what shocked you more—that lottie said it, or that you wanted it to be true.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

the knock comes late morning.

you’re barefoot, a little sticky from standing over the stove. there’s flour on your wrist and heat on the back of your neck. your hands smell like honey and smoke.

your dad left before sunrise—took the old truck to a nearby town, said he wouldn’t be back till tomorrow night. you’ve had the house to yourself all morning, windows cracked just enough to let the breeze in, music playing low from the radio on the counter. it’s too hot for much else, so you threw on a white button-down, short-sleeved and clingy with the heat, the fabric thin enough that it goes a little see-through in the right light. the buttons strain slightly when you reach or twist. your skirt’s something light—flowy, hem brushing mid-thigh—cool against your skin as you move.

you wipe your hands on your apron and crack the door open.

it’s van.

hat tilted back again, hair messier than yesterday, like she didn’t bother trying to sleep in the bed she paid for. her cheeks are pink from the sun, or maybe from something else, and she’s got a lopsided smile like she’s already halfway through a joke.

“hope i’m not too early,” she says, glancing past your shoulder like she expects you to say you’re busy.

you lean against the frame, heart thudding once, sharp and low.

“depends. what are you here for?”

van shrugs, casual, but her eyes aren’t. “thought i’d see if you had that sweeter jar.”

you blink. “you remember what i said about gossip in this town?”

“i do. and i’m real interested to see what they’ll say about me walking into your house before noon.”

you should say something. should tell her you’ll meet her outside or that your father’s in the barn or that ms. matthews could be watching from her parlor window.

but instead you step back and open the door wider.

“come on in.”

she steps past you, slow like she’s walking into water. you shut the door behind her and it clicks too loud in the quiet.

“kitchen’s through here,” you say, leading her in. there’s a loaf of bread cooling on the counter and a pot of tea steeping by the window. you don’t offer any of it. you don’t have to.

van leans against the counter, looking too at home. her eyes skim down your body, quick but not discreet. she lingers on the hem of your shirt, the line of your collarbone. the way the sunlight spills through the window and clings to the white cotton, outlining your bra faintly underneath.

“you bake too?”

you nod, pretending not to notice the way she’s looking. “keeps my hands busy.”

“that why you keep bees?”

“i like the sting,” you say before you can stop yourself.

van’s smile lifts, slow and dangerous. “you always talk like that?”

you flush, turn to the shelf. reach for the small jar, the one you’d tucked away after lottie’s words yesterday. it’s darker than the others. thicker. smells like wildflowers and something warmer.

you hold it out to her. “this one’s sweeter.”

she takes it, but doesn’t look away from you. her fingers brush yours, and something flickers behind her eyes—sharp and electric.

“and what’s the price for this one?”

you try to laugh it off. “didn’t know you planned to pay.”

“oh, i plan to,” she says, and you can feel it again—that pull. that thing that lives in the way she says your name, in the way she doesn’t look away. it’s not loud. it’s just there.

you move past her to the sink, needing to do something with your hands. rinse off the flour. you can feel her still watching.

“you always this quiet?” she asks after a beat. “or just when girls flirt with you?”

you pause. hands under the water. not sure what to say.

“i don’t mind it,” she adds, stepping closer. “makes it easier to hear myself think.”

you glance at her, meet her eyes for real this time. there’s something soft behind the smirk. something you’re afraid to name.

“you ever been with a girl before?” she asks it so simply. like it’s not the kind of question that could set a whole fire.

you shake your head.

she steps closer. “but you’ve thought about it.”

your voice is barely there. “yeah.”

“me?”

you don’t answer. you don’t have to.

she grins, just a little, and leans back against the counter again. gives you space like she’s giving you a choice.

you wipe your hands on the apron, heart going too fast.

“you want tea?” you ask, already reaching for a second cup.

“only if you’re having some too.”

you pour two mugs and sit across from her at the kitchen table. the light is soft through the window, dancing on the honey jar between you. she spoons some into her cup without asking. you do the same.

she watches the way you stir it in. watches like it means something.

“you gonna tell me why you really came?” you ask after a moment.

van smiles, tilts her head.

“i already did.”

you look down at your tea, steam curling up in slow ribbons. your fingers graze the rim of the mug, but your skin’s humming for something else.

you think about lottie yesterday—her soft smile, the strange, still way she looked at you when she said, “you might want to start a loaf. just a feeling.”

you’d laughed it off at the time, but the memory makes your chest flutter now. because she was right. van’s here. just like she said.

you swallow. “you think you’re smooth,” you say quietly.

“i know i am.”

you lift your eyes again. she’s looking at you like she wants to know how you taste when you’re flustered. and you think maybe, for once, you want to find out too.

“you staying long?” you ask, because you need to fill the air with something.

van shrugs. “depends.”

“on?”

“whether i get invited back.”

your throat feels too tight. your voice feels too small.

“you’re welcome anytime.”

van leans forward, resting her arms on the table, gaze dipping to your mouth before meeting your eyes again. “dangerous thing to say.”

“maybe i like danger.”

her tongue dips out to wet her bottom lip. she’s smiling again but it’s quieter now. more curious. like she wants to see what else you’ll say if she just stays still long enough.

she taps her fingers on the jar between you. “so… what else do you do when it’s just you and no one’s watching?”

your pulse jumps.

“you always ask questions like that?”

“only when the person answering looks this pretty doing it.”

you press your thighs together beneath the table. the air feels thicker now. like the room’s gotten smaller. like she’s closer than she is.

you don’t say anything. but you don’t look away either.

and van smiles like she knows she’s not leaving anytime soon.

the tea goes cold between you.

you don’t notice. not really. van’s still talking, voice low and warm, hands moving when she does, fingers brushing over the table like she’s drawing invisible circles. the room feels tilted somehow—like it shifted the second she stepped inside, like something’s humming just beneath the surface and neither of you are brave enough to touch it yet.

she tells you about a girl she met once, the way she smiled like trouble and kissed like she meant it. you laugh, shaking your head, but you can feel it in your stomach—this strange twist of something that feels a little like jealousy and a little like want.

“you ever think about leaving?” she asks suddenly, cutting through the quiet.

you look up from your mug. “what, this town?”

“yeah.”

“sometimes,” you say honestly. “not sure where i’d go, though.”

van nods, her pinkie tapping lightly against the rim of your cup. just a brush, but enough to make you look down and see how close her hand’s gotten to yours. she doesn’t move it. doesn’t pull away.

“you could go anywhere,” she says. “you’ve got that… flight risk thing about you.”

“you think so?”

“i know so.”

her eyes are on you again, but softer now. not teasing. just… seeing you.

you shift in your seat, your leg bumping into hers under the table. you don’t move it right away. she doesn’t either.

it makes your heart do that funny thing again. makes the collar of your shirt feel too tight.

“what about you?” you ask, trying to steady yourself. “you planning to just keep drifting around?”

van shrugs. “i like not knowing what’s next.”

you hum, watching the way the light catches her freckles, the way the tip of her ear’s turning pink again. it makes your stomach flutter, how easy she makes it look—this not knowing. this being.

“you ever get tired?” you ask softly.

“of?”

“not having something to come back to.”

van leans forward slightly, her arm brushing yours. this time, the touch lingers. not enough to be anything yet. just enough to make your skin feel warm where she’s touching.

she doesn’t answer right away. just looks at you like she’s deciding what to say.

“depends,” she says eventually. “sometimes i think i wouldn’t mind something… quieter.”

you don’t ask what she means. the words are enough. the tone. the way her voice dips on quieter, like she means this. like she means you.

you glance down at where her fingers are now resting just an inch from yours. slow, careful, she curls her pinkie around yours. not holding. not grabbing. just that little hook. like a promise. like a dare.

your breath catches.

“you okay?” she murmurs, like she can feel it.

you nod. you think you nod.

she smiles again, real gentle this time. “good.”

you both sit there like that for a while. pinkies linked. legs touching under the table. eyes flicking up and down and back again.

and it’s not much. not yet.

but it’s enough to make your whole body feel like it’s holding its breath.

and neither of you seems ready to exhale.

you don’t even remember what you were saying, just that van’s knee brushes yours under the table and neither of you moves away. her hand is resting on the bench between you now, just barely touching your skirt. light. tentative. like she’s testing the air between you.

“you always this nice to strangers?” she asks, voice low, lazy in that way that makes it sound like a dare.

you smile, a little shaky. “depends on the stranger.”

her eyes drop to your mouth.

your heart stumbles.

“am i pushin’ too far?” she asks, quieter now, like she’s afraid to break whatever spell you’re both caught in.

you shake your head. “no. i just…”

but you don’t finish. because she leans in and kisses you.

soft at first, like she’s giving you time to pull away. but you don’t—you lean closer. one of her hands comes up to brush your jaw, thumb skimming just beneath your ear, and your fingers find her thigh under the table without thinking, clutching the worn fabric of her jeans like a lifeline.

her mouth moves against yours slowly, her breath warm and a little shaky too, and when you let out the smallest sigh she deepens the kiss, her fingers slipping into your hair.

the bench creaks a little when she shifts closer, knees knocking together now. you’re fully turned toward her, hands on either side of her face like you’ve done this a hundred times.

you haven’t. but it feels like you should have.

her hand skims down, curling around your waist, thumb tracing the edge of your shirt where the fabric is thin and clinging to your skin from the heat.

“you sure?” she breathes, lips brushing yours.

you nod, whispering, “yeah.”

her mouth finds yours again, hungrier this time. you gasp when her fingers slide beneath the hem of your shirt, grazing the small of your back, and she groans against your mouth like she’s been holding that in all day.

she kisses your neck, slow and reverent, right where your pulse is pounding. you tilt your head without thinking, letting her.

her other hand finds your thigh under the table, fingertips grazing bare skin where your skirt’s bunched up. your breath catches and she freezes, giving you the tiniest second to stop her.

but you don’t.

you reach for her instead.

your fingers tangling in the front of her shirt, pulling her closer like gravity's got a personal vendetta. her mouth finds yours again, deeper this time—less question, more answer. you don't remember standing, but you're both up now, the edge of the table bumping your hip as van backs you gently toward the counter, lips never straying far from yours.

your back meets wood and she pauses, hands on either side of you, bracketing your body like she's framing a picture. her breath is coming faster now, her eyes scanning your face like she's reading it cover to cover. like she's afraid she'll miss something if she blinks.

"you sure?" she asks again, quieter this time.

and you are. it's not even a question in your mind anymore. you've been sure since she first said your name like she was trying it on. since the moment her fingers brushed yours from across the honey jar.

so you nod. then say it, real soft, just so there's no mistaking: "i want this."

something in her face shifts—something a little wild, a little undone. she kisses you again, and this time there's no hesitation. her hands are on your waist, fingers curling in your shirt, bunching the fabric slowly until it's untucked and rising.

"tell me if it's too much," she murmurs against your jaw, between kisses that trail down to your collarbone, "i'll stop."

"don't," you breathe, your fingers sliding under the hem of her shirt, feeling the heat of her skin, the solid line of her stomach. "i want you."

she exhales, almost like it hurts. "yeah?" her voice is wrecked, reverent. "god, you have no idea what that does to me."

you pull her in again, mouths meeting like magnets, like it's inevitable. she lifts you, easy, like she's done it before, and sets you on the counter. the wood's warm under your thighs, and her hands slide up your legs, slow and careful, never rushing, always asking with every touch.

"still good?" she asks, her forehead pressed to yours.

you reach down, guide one of her hands beneath your skirt, fingers trembling slightly as they meet bare skin.

"still good," you whisper. "better than good."

van kisses you again like she believes it now—like she's been trying not to. it's like the world narrows down to just that moment. just her touch. just the quiet sound you make as your head falls to her shoulder, your breath catching against her neck.

van's hand is under your skirt now. fingers dragging slow, steady paths along the inside of your thigh—pausing just long enough to make you ache. you shift against her, chasing the contact, and she huffs a low laugh, mouth brushing your jaw as she murmurs, "needy thing."

you manage a breathless, "please," and that's all it takes.

her fingers slip beneath the edge of your underwear, and the first touch is careful—measured—like she wants to feel how every little change in pressure pulls a sound from your lips.

"oh," you breathe, and she leans in closer kissing your throat as her fingers work deeper—sliding, curling just right until your breath hitches, until your hand grabs blindly at the counter for something to hold on to.

"you're already so wet," she says, voice low, rough at the edges. "is this all for me?"

you nod—whimper, really—and van's mouth finds yours again, swallowing the sound as her fingers curl just right inside you.

the rhythm builds slow, but certain—like she's not in a hurry, like she wants to make you feel every second of it. her palm presses tight against you with every motion, coaxing soft, involuntary gasps from your mouth, and when she speeds up just a little, your knees fall further apart without thinking.

she's watching you now, you can feel it. her breath hot on your cheek, her voice right against your ear.

"tell me what you need," she whispers, fingers stroking deeper, steadier.

"i—van—don't stop—"

and that's all she needs.

her other hand grips your hip to hold you steady, and she keeps going, thumb finding that stop that makes your back arch, your breath break. you're trembling now, hips rolling into her hand, chasing that edge with everything you've got, and van's right there with you—murmuring soft nothings, kissing you through it like she wants to taste your every breath.

you fall apart in her arms—slow, drawn out, the kind of release that makes the world blink out for a second—and she holds you steadily through it, fingers gentling, lips brushing your temple, your cheek, your mouth.

when it's over, you're slumped against her, legs shaking, heart thundering like it might burst right through your chest.

van pulls back just enough to see your bace, her hand still resting warm on your thigh. she grins—crooked, flushed, wrecked—and says, "hope you've got more of that honey."

you laugh, dazed and breathless, and kiss her again.

van's hums into your mouth, like she's trying to memorize the taste. when she finally pulls back, she nudges her nose against yours and murmurs, "could get used to breakfast like this."

you snort, still a little shaky. "that wasn't breakfast."

she grins. "then i'm real excited for the rest of the menu."

you swat at her shoulder, but she catches your wrist and presses a kiss to the inside of it, right where your pulse flutters. her eyes find yours again—steady, golden in the light spilling through the kitchen window.

"i could head out," she says casually, thumb brushing lazy circles against your skin. "but that'd be a damn shame, seeing as how i've got nowhere better to be. and your daddy's not due back 'til tomorrow."

you raise an eyebrow. "you planning to scandalize the whole town?"

van smirks, leaning in until her lips are a breath from yours. "i think it'd be more of a scandal if i left now."

you don't argue.

outside, the bees hum low in their boxes. inside, the air smells like warm bread and wildflower honey and her.

you kiss her once more, slow and smiling, and whisper, "you can stay."

and she does.

#van palmer x reader #van x reader #van palmer #van yellowjackets #yellowjackets #yellowjackets au #lottie matthews #misty quigley #taissa turner #yellowjackets season 3 #liv hewson #lauren ambrose #cowboy #wild west au #cowboy au #farmers daughter

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glazedcecilia · 2 months ago

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not to get nsfw but i’m still thinking about kevin day

#this was originally about kevneil #and neil getting kevin pregnant #*pulling up my red string board*#so the queen’s game is gonna feature a timeskip #with pregnant kevin day #and blurry andreiljerejean in the bg #jerry springer is there too #all for the game #aftg #kevin day #andrew minyard #neil josten #jeremy knox #jean moreau #kandreil #kerejean #kerejeandreil

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andy-15-07 · 6 months ago

Text

Love in the Chaos

pairing: Aaron Taylor Johnson x female!reader

word count: 1155 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Aaron Taylor Johnson Masterlist

"Y/n, have you seen my blue shirt?" Aaron called from the bedroom, his voice slightly muffled.

"I think it's in the laundry basket, love," you replied from the kitchen, where you were meticulously arranging a charcuterie board. Tonight was date night, a rare and precious occasion for you and Aaron. After months of juggling work, school runs, and the whirlwind of raising two young children, you were finally escaping for a few hours. Your parents had graciously offered to babysit, and you were determined to make the most of it.

"Ah, you're right," Aaron reappeared, the blue shirt now in hand. He grinned at you, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "You know, sometimes I think you have a secret organization system for all our belongings."

You chuckled, "If only! It’s more like controlled chaos." You glanced at the clock. "Kids are finally down, right?"

"Sleeping like little angels," Aaron confirmed, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into a gentle hug. "They were surprisingly easy tonight. Maybe they sensed our desperation for freedom."

"Let's hope it stays that way," you said, leaning into his embrace. "I’d hate for Grandma and Grandpa to have a wrestling match at bedtime."

"Speaking of which," Aaron said, releasing you and grabbing his wallet from the dresser, "I should probably run to the store and grab that bottle of wine we talked about. Red, right?"

"Perfect," you replied, gesturing to the charcuterie board. "And maybe some fancy cheese. The kids won't appreciate it, so we can indulge."

"Consider it done," Aaron said, giving you a quick kiss before heading out the door.

You surveyed the kitchen, a smile playing on your lips. The babysitter was coming in an hour, giving you just enough time to get ready without rushing. You finished arranging the charcuterie board, adding a few sprigs of rosemary for a touch of elegance. Then, you headed upstairs to get ready.

As you were changing, your phone buzzed. It was a text from Aaron: "Found the perfect wine. And I may have also picked up some dark chocolate. Just sayin'..."

You smiled, replying with a string of heart emojis. He knew you so well. A quiet evening with good food, good wine, and even better company was your idea of heaven.

A little while later, Aaron returned, a bottle of wine and a bag of groceries in hand. "I also grabbed some flowers," he announced, presenting a small bouquet of vibrant lilies.

"They're beautiful," you said, taking the flowers and inhaling their sweet fragrance. "Thank you."

"You deserve them," Aaron said softly, his eyes filled with affection. "You deserve a night off."

The doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of the babysitter. Your parents came in, beaming and ready for their mission. After a quick briefing about bedtime routines and emergency contacts, you and Aaron were finally out the door, hand in hand.

"Where are we going?" you asked as Aaron led you to his car.

"It's a surprise," he said with a wink. "But I promise you'll love it."

He drove for about twenty minutes, taking you to a charming little Italian restaurant tucked away in a quiet neighborhood. The restaurant was dimly lit, with cozy tables and the soft murmur of conversation filling the air. It was the perfect setting for a romantic date night.

"This place looks amazing," you said as you were shown to your table.

"I knew you'd like it," Aaron replied, pulling out your chair.

You settled into your seats, feeling a sense of calm wash over you. It was so nice to be out, just the two of you, without the constant demands of parenthood.

"So," Aaron said, after you'd ordered drinks, "what have you been up to lately? Besides being a supermom, of course."

You laughed, "Well, work has been crazy busy. But I finally finished that big project I was telling you about."

"That's fantastic!" Aaron exclaimed, raising his glass. "To your success!"

You clinked glasses and took a sip of your wine. The conversation flowed easily, as it always did between you and Aaron. You talked about work, your kids, your dreams for the future. You laughed, you reminisced, and you simply enjoyed each other's company.

As the evening progressed, the conversation turned more personal.

"You know," Aaron said, his voice softening, "I don't tell you this enough, but I'm so grateful for you. You're an incredible mother, an amazing partner, and my best friend."

Your heart swelled with warmth. "Thank you, Aaron," you replied, your voice thick with emotion. "I feel the same way about you. You're my rock, my support system, and the love of my life."

He reached across the table and took your hand, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "I love you, Y/n," he said, his eyes locking with yours.

"I love you too, Aaron," you whispered back.

For a moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, connected by an invisible thread of love and understanding.

After dinner, Aaron surprised you with a walk along the riverbank. The moon was full, casting a silvery glow on the water. You strolled hand in hand, enjoying the peacefulness of the night.

"This is perfect," you said, leaning your head on Aaron's shoulder.

"It is," he agreed. "Just like you."

You smiled, feeling completely content. This was exactly what you needed – a night to reconnect, to recharge, to remember why you fell in love in the first place.

As you walked back to the car, you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt about leaving the kids. But then you remembered something Aaron had said earlier: "Happy parents, happy kids." You knew that taking time for yourselves was essential for the health and well-being of your family.

When you arrived home, your parents were waiting for you, both kids fast asleep.

"They were perfect angels," your mom said with a smile.

"Thank you so much for watching them," you said, feeling a wave of gratitude.

"Anytime," your dad replied. "You two deserve a night out."

After your parents left, you and Aaron went upstairs, careful not to wake the kids. You changed into your pajamas and snuggled into bed, feeling tired but happy.

"Tonight was amazing," you said, turning to face Aaron.

"It was," he agreed, kissing you softly on the lips. "We should do it more often."

"Definitely," you said, closing your eyes and drifting off to sleep, feeling loved and cherished.

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of your kids giggling downstairs. You and Aaron exchanged a look, a mixture of amusement and exhaustion. The date night was over, and it was back to reality. But you both knew that the memories of the evening would stay with you, a reminder of the love and connection that bound you together. And that, you realized, was more valuable than anything.

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luiluvr · 2 months ago

Text

black beauty — luigi mangione

WARNINGS: f!reader, NSFW, mdni, sex, oral (f & m receiving,), unprotected sex, p in v, daddy kink, part two of ultraviolence, but can be read alone

WC: 1.8k

SUMMARY: Luigi returns home from a work-related trip, finding you in the kitchen dressed in his favorite lingerie dress from your closet. In which, he takes you right then and there. :)

A/N: it’s my birthdayy so smut fic to quench my thirst…. yayyyy 🙂‍↕️ also seeing the love for ultraviolence made me so so happy!!!! i’ve been practicing my smut writing, and i’ve decided (by request) to write part 2!! enjoy :3

You watched the time on your phone screen tick to midnight. Absolutely exhausted, but forcing your eyes open to await your boyfriend. Luigi had been gone on a work trip that ran late into the night and he was barely back in town. You never went a night without sleeping beside each other. Majorly, it was him that was incapable of sleeping without you next to him. He was addicted to your delicate body curled up against his own every night. Exchanging warmth, endless cuddles and (most nights) more than that. He had messaged you to let you know he would be home in ten minutes. You responded, the blue message bubble showing delivered: “see u soon, love <3”

He sent a simple red heart back, returning to the wheel. You spent the day with yourself, going to brunch alone, shopping for a new outfit, groceries and even got a new bouquet of flowers from the local floral shop. Wanting to be there the moment he stepped inside, you lugged yourself from the comfort of the queen-sized bed. Never too late for a snack, you had pre-washed the fruits from the market earlier — so now you stood in the quiet home, the knife gently clicking on the cutting board as you chopped the fruits. Some watermelon, strawberries, a few grapes and Lu’s favorite: mango. He usually ate all of them before you got a slice.

You were in the midst of bringing a banana into the mixture when the front door opened, in stepped your lover, his curls a bit messy, two buttons of his blue flannel hung open whorishly, he stretched, walking into the house fully, the sound of his keys in the key-bowl clank and down. He smiles, finding you in the dimly lit kitchen, his eyes travel down your body. You were wearing his favorite lingerie dress: pink knit, a low neckline, with white lace borderings and a small bow in the front. Subconsciously, he licks his lips and comes over to you, like a moth to a flame.

“Hi sweet girl.” His soft, yet rough masculine voice murmurs against your ear as he presses up behind you, his arms coming around your waist protectively. “You look so beautiful tonight.” He peppers kisses on the side of your neck as he watches your pretty hands pull the banana peel off the fruit, your nails were a shimmery black color; it was different compared to your normal french tips, or glossy pinks and other pastels. “Thank you.” You responded. Before you could continue cutting the banana, he pulled you back against him, “Missed you so much.”

His breath is hot on your neck, making the hairs stand and salute. “Mh, I can’t resist you sometimes, you know that dolcezza?” His palms creep underneath the thigh-high hem lace. “You’re so fuckin’ sexy like this… cutting up fruits for us, wearing that… Surely, you knew what you were goin’ to do to me.”

“What if I did?” You reply, a hint of sass in your tone, he smacks your ass playfully, grinning against your skin as he kisses down and over your shoulder. “Watch it, sweetheart.” It hadn’t been long since he let you fall asleep while staying buried inside you. He had been so clingy since, it brought you closer somehow. A string in Luigi had snapped, he was always addicted to you — but now more than ever. His fingers move higher up, practically lifting the dress all the way. His hands grope at your breasts as if he’s rock climbing and holding on for dear life.

“Spent an entire day without you, and you’d think I’ve been starved for a month.” He grumbles, his gaze moving from your body to the banana on the counter. He reaches out, picking up the half you had chopped already. “Open your mouth.” Almost instinctively, you do. He lifts it, leaning over your shoulder and pressing it against your lips, he smiled.

“Bite it.” He ordered, you bring the banana into your mouth and bite into it. He stares, smiling devilishly. “That’s so fucking hot, love.” Lu groans, you can feel his dick harden against your lower half. “Again.” And you do, your teeth sink into the softness of the fruit, his gaze locked on the way your lips wrap around it, he can only imagine it’s his cock instead.

“Put the bowl in the fridge, then come with me.”

In less than a minute, he was tugging you to the bedroom, he was eager, like he’s deprived. Yearning for another person’s touch—your touch. “Please, love, please. God, I need you so bad.” He whispers, kissing you desperately. Your hands work without having to see what they’re accomplishing. That being getting Luigi out of his pants. Unlooping his belt, hearing it hit the floor, the single sound of clanking was all you needed. He wouldn’t pull away from you, only to tug his shirt off — as quickly as possible.

His rippled stomach showcases him inhaling and exhaling, his muscles tense then flex as he tugs you back towards him, practically eating your mouth with his own. His hands come to your head, curling into your hair and tugging it softly, “Fucking hell, bellissima.” His black briefs are very obviously strained with his aching member.

In the midst of the intense makeout session — you found yourself moving down his body, your lips exploring him, every line and crease from his neck to his waist, just beside his happy trail; your fingers trace his v-line, causing him to let out a soft whimper.

“B-Baby girl.” He manages to choke up. Your eyes, glossy with desire for the male in front of you — flicker to his boxers. Your fingers waste no time in hooking onto them and tugging them down without further explanation. He moans out at the freeing feeling; and his heart races as he watches you — on your knees — for him. “That’s daddy’s good girl.” You could just die from the tone he spoke that in.

Not wanting to give to him at once, you gently place kisses down the sides of his cock, his length throbbing in your hand. He could barely even speak to you clearly at this point, his voice became deeper, “C’mon… Don’t tease.” He begs. The soft, pink tip already leaking precum from the mere sight of you. His hand navigates back into your hair, the other gently holds your chin, parting your lips enough to gently push himself in your mouth. He moans louder, “Fuck.”

While you began taking him, inch by inch; and suckling — Lu gently thrusted simultaneously, fuck it was painful for him but he loved it. He loved you. His eyes roll back as you lightly and playfully sink your teeth around him, not enough to hurt but enough to make him quiver with pleasure.

“You’re going to make me cum if you keep that up.” He muttered, “God, holy shit.” His large palm cups your jaw; and keeps your eyes on him. His face. Nothing else. Your mouth was an awful, pleasurable heaven he couldn’t stow away from. He was loving the sight of watching his cock disappear into your mouth.

He had to pull back after a bit, shakily sitting back on the edge of the bed. He didn’t want to cum so quickly, he wanted to hold on for you. He could hold off on cumming normally; but with you? That was another story. He looks at you, still knelt on the floor so perfectly, with your short nightgown pooled over your legs. He gives your hair a gentle ruffle before he gestures you over, and lifts you up before he gently lays you back on the bed.

“I think you deserve some love too.” Shivers. Pure shivers down your spine. You manage to shimmy back so your head is rested against the cushion of the pillows. Luigi buries himself between your legs. Something about his tickling breath and he crept up your inner thigh just made your brain oozy. He planted kisses on both thighs, stopping right at your heat. He knew you wanted it.

“Lu, please.”

“Please what?”

There he goes, pressuring you just so he can hear those dirty words fall from your tongue like a beautiful symphony. “Come on, baby. Tell daddy what you want.” You groan, feeling so uncomfortable of having to express that need, but it’s the only way you’ll get what your body’s aching for. “I need you to eat me out.”

Almost instinctively, he grips your thighs, lifting your ankles over his shoulders and leaning down again. He shows no hesitation now, tugging your panties down. “Atta girl,” he mumbles, nudging his nose against your clit, making you jump. He knows how much you like it.

“Mmh, this pussy’s so wet. All for daddy, yeah?” His eyes flicker to you, and you nod back quickly. He smiles, kissing above your entrance, he can feel your body tense in his hands. “Oh, sweet girl,” His voice causes a vibration that makes you squeak softly. Without alerting you, he moves in and begins licking up your sensitive slit, his tongue darts out, inside of you, he knows his way around. Knows the ways to move, how to angle himself, how to hold please you. Nothing could ever compare to the way his tongue poked at your g-spot and how he mouthed the entire area at the same time.

His hands move up along your sides, towards your breasts and squeezing them tenderly, and as you arch up against his mouth — he can only smile and continue feasting on the delicious platter that is your, perfect, soft, wetness… He moans, placing his hands back on your thighs and grasping them tight. “Fuckin’ love your pussy, my precious. My world..” He licks up your cunt, eliciting a soft suckle sound. Whatever he was doing — he was doing it right. Fantastically.

“Damn, I’m sorry. I can’t wait any longer, bellissima.” He groans, sitting up on his knees, his chin wet from your juices. “Fuck,” he shifts and wraps your legs around his west, adjusting you to the right position. He rubs your clit gently, loving the way you moan so beautifully. He slides his tip inside you, his eyelids flutter shut in pleasure. “Perfect pussy.”

“You love daddy’s cock don’t you?” He grins, shoving himself right inside you. You whimper, he leans down kissing your neck softly. He hums and starts thrusting into you softly, “Feels so good, daddy.”

“Yeah?” He lets out a soft laugh, touching and gazing at your body in the lingerie nightgown, admiring the way your breasts bounce as he fucks you. There was never a word to describe the way he stretched you out so well, that it didn’t hurt; but it hurt good enough.

“That’s daddy’s princess.”

Every word.

“Takin’ me so well.”

Every movement.

He slaps your ass, mumbling sweet nothings into your ear as he softly bites it. “God, my sweet girl. I love you so much.” He squeezes your ass in his hands, burying his face in your chest as he continues his passionate movements. “I love you, daddy.” You smile faintly, your hand grasping his biceps, watching him move above you, longingly.

His nostrils flare, in the manner they always do when he’s about to cum. “May I?” He whispers, brushing your hair from your face.

“Yeah..”

He kisses your lips softly, biting your lower lip and tugging it into his mouth as he holds your hips still, and lets himself release inside you. “Mhm, that’s daddy’s perfect girl.”

TAGLIST: @mangionebabymama @iinfinitelimits @gigimangione @palmersluvr @fligniuz @alleviatcd (ask 2 be tagged <3)

#luigi mangione fanfiction #luiluvr #luigi mangione #luigi x reader #luigi nicholas mangione #luigi mangione smut #luigi mangione x reader #luigi fanfiction #luigi mangione x you #luigi mangione x yn #Spotify

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ch3rrybbie · 7 months ago

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Messy (part 2 of please please please)

Summary: he’s back like a cat with a dead bird.

Warnings: smut, p in v, no protection, oral fem rec. , dead body, blood, ominous end?

Note from the author: based it off the song by Lola young (loosely) mainly bc he is too messy but when he relates to the song it’s bc he’s pathetic yet dangerous lol idk if that makes sense.

———

Gore, blood and sweat enveloped him.

He heaves out heavy breaths, eyes unrelenting from yours.

Unconsciously your feet carried you back from him.

Had he looked this way at whoever’s blood was on him?

“Come. Here” he punctuated. The emblematic flag of freedom swinging behind him like a grotesque red flag.

Eyes scanning his face for danger, you relent tenderly walking towards him.

His gloves creak as they stretch to soothe your fearful face.

You’d seen the posts come through live on social media, Vought news smothering all reports of his rampage.

“I had to do that baby” he whispers nodding in self assurance.

When your expression didn’t soften from your apprehension he started to do his typical ranting.

A string of false preaching to bring you to his side.

“I mean they were going to take you away from me when I told then what you wanted and i will never let that happen. I would’ve done that a thousand times over, I will do it a thousand times over”. he’s left grasping at breath passion makes his eyes wild his hair is drooping into his face.

He looks villainous.

You cant help but reach up and smooth it back, “what have you done?” a voice drips out shaky and unrecognisable.

Cold breeze breaks your attention as the soft cotton curtains beckon you. Moving to grasp them you are breathless at the sight before you.

Dumped on the balcony is Stormfront, eyes gone with ragged laser marks across her face and body.

His body is marble behind you when you step back in shock. Toned hard planes keeping you upright. Kissing your cheek sweetly he grips your hand and guides you out, eventually dragging you over the threshold into the biting air.

It was his idea of some sick sort of wedding gift, an I am yours for ever and ever gift, a fate sealing bauble. And like a cat that got the cream he beams at you, face nuzzling into your beating neck.

“I love you” he sighs.

In the distance a sirens race towards the destruction he’d left. A promotion board with him and stormfront is almost unrecognisable, stormfronts picture is hanging above the shocked civilians.

His image grins down proud.

———

You’d been unable to speak and he barely batted an eyelid.

Shuffling around making you food and coffee. Keeping you no further than his eyesight. He was finally yours.

But did you want that?

He was even still covered in her blood. You couldn’t hold it in any longer. Fat hot tears slip down your face in whispers and he rushes from the stove to grasp you like you’d disappear.

Confused he pleads, “what’s wrong tell me i’ll sort it baby”.

Still in shock you finally let your looping thoughts fly free at him.

“You killed her”.

He sours.

“No,no,no” his finger wags in your face

“You asked me to kill her my love”

You breathe in sharply, you did ask him. He obeyed you, and not so deep down you wanted that.

Needed that proof of loyalty.

Once trembling and begging before you he now stands over you.

Worshipper victorious. He had sacrificed for you, he would always sacrifice for you.

“Let me take care of you baby” he smooths at you slick as silk, he kisses you softly but you knew hunger bludgeoned in him.

———

Food forgotten and probably burning he pulls you into the bathroom. Gently pulling clothes from you he smoothes his hands over your soft skin. Looking at you like you’re a marvel. A mere mortal that swayed his heart, perhaps you were a marvel.

You settled under the warmth of the shower attempting to breathe through the images of stormfronts ragdolled body on your balcony.

His sudden heavy presence behind you brings you back and you lean in to him letting him ground you. His skin is hot under the burning water. Steam perfumes the space between you and you feel his hardened cock bob and nudge into you. He grips your hips to him, but you couldn’t fuck him covered in blood.

Covered in your commands, your vicious dog. Turning to look up at him you begin to wash the blood off him, an iron tang hits your senses. He smirks down at you knowingly.

Arousal and blood.

You can’t help but let him kiss you, all teeth and tongue. Blood be dammed.

He kneels devoted, parts you legs desperate to taste you, he is unrelenting and messy when he kisses your aching pussy. You drip with desire, a string of wanton moans music to his ears and he begins to moan back into you. Drawing back he looks up at you, bloodied face, mused hair and swollen lips. He relishes in your shocked face as he pushes two of his fingers in, knuckle deep. His hair is gripped in a silent command for more and you wrench him back up to you.

Fervent desire sets your senses alight the salty water spray and copper tang of his bloodied lips envelop you. He pushes into you and the burn is delicious. A wet cacophony of thwacks and groans accompany his pursuit of your pleasure. Suddenly you are up against the cold tiled wall and you nipples pebble at the temperature change. The new angle means his relentless fucking into your sopping cunt hits the most perfect spots and the sheer size of him brings a pleasurable pain.

He is stoic. Looking down through wet hair and bloodied trails he grins and reaches down to harshly rub your clit. Letting your nails dig into his taught back you release around him. Fingers and toes curling and tingling you are out of your body as you violently clench down on his twitching cock, pulling him in. He comes in hot spurts lining your spasming walls.

You are satiated. For now.

He gently lowers you and peppers you with kisses, pushing your hair from your face.

“I love you” he asserts

“I know” is all you can return.

He finishes washing you and escorts you to bed, all thoughts of the burnt food and stormfronts corpse vanquished.

You can’t help but think about how calm and quiet he seems as you drift off to sleep in his arms.

You don’t see him rise and clear away the burnt food and stormfronts corpse.

You don’t see him slip back into bed and whisper promises of your new life together.

You didn’t see the messages from Ashley about the missing compound V and his foolish plan.

———

TAG LIST: @melody-deathnote

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loveandmurders · 4 months ago

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Red string and crimson hands (Poly!Sinclair brothers x f!reader) - Part II

Hi everyone, this is the second part of this new soulmate AU requested by @mrstargayen09 . You can find part 1 here.

Hope you'll enjoy <3

Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of violent killing, mentions of nausea, blood and yelling

You were like in trance when you grabbed a bag and started to put some of your belongings in it. You were feverish, your heart beating so fast you felt like it was going to rip away from your ribcage. You were about to do something that was going to change your life. You were going to jump into the devil’s lair. You were afraid, and yet you were determined.

You couldn’t properly think actually. It was as if the crimson string had finally found a way to make you its puppet. You needed to follow it. You needed to understand who your soulmates were and why you were supposed to stay away from them.

When you entered your car, a heavy downpour startled you away from your thoughts. For one brief second, you hesitated. Maybe you should go back home and grab a cold shower. Maybe you should listen to your parents and be a good girl.

You started the engine and decided to follow the red string, like Alice followed the white rabbit down wonderland. You knew you would never come back from Ambrose - or wherever your soulmates were - as the same person you currently were. But it was okay. You couldn’t keep going that way anyways.

The darkness of the sky helped you see even more vividly the crimson string. A little voice inside your head told you that this scene looked like you were following a trail of blood. Perhaps it was the case, but you didn’t care for the moment. Your desire to be whole again wasn’t cruel anymore, it was freeing you.

Your mother felt something was wrong and she called you. You almost didn’t answer before deciding she deserved to know the truth.

“Hey mom” you greeted her

“Hey baby, is everything alright?” she asked you

“Yes. I’m feeling good actually” you replied

“Actually?” she hummed

“Yes. Since I woke up in the hospital bed, I always felt like… I don’t know, like if something was off. I wasn’t feeling that well, that happy. I struggle to remember what I used to feel before the accident, but I’m certain that I was feeling empty. And I know why” you explained

“Why?” your mother asked, getting more and more worried

“Because I tried to cut the ties with them, ties that can’t be cut.” you replied

“What are you doing?” your mother cried out

“I’m following the red string. And there is nothing you can tell me that will make me reconsider it. I finally feel like everything is going to be okay. Maybe it won’t, but I need to know. I need to meet them again, and to understand, and to give them another chance.” you told her “I promise I will keep in touch” you tried to reassure her

“Don’t do this. They could hurt you, they could kill you” you mother tried

“No they won’t. That’s the only certitude I have. Because they are my soulmates. Everything will be alright, mom, I’m a big girl and I can take care of myself” you said before hanging up.

You drove days and nights, barely sleeping, barely eating. Your eyes were never leaving the red string, as if you were afraid that it would disappear at some point, in some cruel prank pulled by fate. In reality, the closer you went to Ambrose, and the brighter the colour red was becoming. It truly had the appearance of a trail of blood swirling in the air to show you the way.

You passed by the House of Wax board ads and you had to stop the car because you suddenly started to suffocate. Your mind was close to exploding as you started to remember. You remembered the sculptures made of wax, you remembered a woman called Trudy, you remembered a masked boy. Flashes were hurting your brain.

You tried to take deep breaths and to focus on the sound the rain was making when it was hitting your car. You found your bottle of water and slowly sipped at it. You were so close to getting “home” now, you could feel it.

And a little voice started to whisper to you that it was still time to run away, to turn around and to come back home, away from the devil. You didn’t have to do this, you didn’t have to find the darkness to jump into its embrace.

But you turned the engine back on. The roads were tricky and you were glad fate was guiding you or you would have gotten lost. You could sense danger and clearly you wouldn’t have wanted to be lost, you wouldn’t have wanted to be anyone else wandering closer to the devil’s lair.

You finally entered Ambrose and you remembered a child who was showing you “cool” rocks and “pretty” dead animals, begging for your attention. You continued to drive, carefully. You finally parked in front of a garage and you had flashes of a boy telling you tool names and what they were for. You got out of the car, feeling lightheaded and nauseous.

For an instant, you thought that the string was now laying on the floor, before you realised that it was actual blood. You tried to calm down, but you had to lean against your car for a little while.

It was still time to get back in your vehicule - no one seemed to have spotted you yet. You should call the police too.

You took another big breath and started to walk around. You couldn’t call for anyone, you could just follow the blood. You found a dead body at the entrance of a house. A house you seemed to know very well, because you could guess where each room was. You could guess the decoration, you could almost recall the scent of a freshly baked cake.

If you had been in your normal state, you would have thrown up at the sight of the dead man - especially with the way his throat has been ripped open -, but your attention went on the name written on the mailbox. “Mr and Mrs L/N and their daughter Y/N”.

It used to be your home.

You climbed the little stairs leading to the entrance, walking by the dead man before softly pushing the door open, like you did countless times before. For an instant, you felt like you were a teenage girl again, and you were coming back home after school, probably asking your parents’ permission to stay over at the… Sinclairs.

You didn’t have time to feel anything about this name, because loud noises brought you back to reality. You followed them, noticing how bright the red string was getting too, as if it was exciting you were finally where you should have been for so long.

“How fuckin’ dare ya come into this house?” a man yelled as he was stabbing another man on the floor “It’s her fuckin’ home and ya fuckin’ stained it, ya piece of shit” he continued to cry out as a pool of blood was drenching the tiles and their clothes.

Two other men were attacking another person. They were violent, angry. They were covered in blood. It seemed that nothing could have stopped them.

You should have run away, but the string was attached to their wrists.

Those three dangerous killers were yours.

And your fate was to be theirs.

You watched, in pure horror, quite afraid. You couldn’t move an inch, you could just take into the scene: three men beating two people to death, with their fists and with knives. Blood was scattered everywhere in what was a family kitchen. You remembered what your parents said: animals, monsters, violent and dangerous killers.

Yes, it was all true.

And now you understood why you decided to stay away from them, you understood why your parents thought it was a chance you didn’t remember any of this. You quite felt like your family didn’t know how badly things went in Ambrose, though, or they would have stopped you. They would have called 911.

But at the same time, for the first time since you could recall, you started to feel at peace. You weren’t empty anymore. No more sorrow, no more despair. You promised yourself you weren’t going to be a coward, you were going to deal with whatever needed to be dealt with in Ambrose. And this time, if you had to leave your soulmates behind again, it would only be because fate decided to play with you four, and not because you had run away.

When you had left, you were just a teenage girl, but now you were an adult and you knew it meant being strong and facing what life gave you.

When the man who yelled at the now dead man spotted you, you should have been ready to escape, you should have been terrified. But you simply looked at him. He quickly got up, his pants soaked with blood; his hands and face weren’t looking better either.

He stopped in his tracks - that was to attack you - to observe you. You couldn’t read his expression but you saw something lighting up in his eyes: hope.

The other two men noticed his movement and turned toward you after having followed his line of vision. One of the men was wearing a mask so you couldn’t know what he was feeling, until he knelt down in front of you. You weren’t too sure if it was to worship you or if it was because his legs couldn’t carry him any longer. Maybe both.

The last one, the youngest one, it seemed, carefully walked closer to you, until he noticed what he looked like: a man who just killed someone.

“Y/N?” the first man whispered and your attention went back on him

You simply nodded, not trusting your voice under the intensity of his baby blue eyes.

“Ya… Ya shouldn’t be there… I mean, no, ya should be there, but ya shouldn’t've seen that” the one who was the closest to you added “We should've been more careful” he apologised

“But they got inside your home” the other one tried to explain

“A red string leading to bloodthirsty killers, it does track” you thought out loud

“The string? Ya still saw it? That’s why ya came back?” the man asked, hope shining even more in his eyes

At the instant you nodded again at the question, the three men seemed to be relieved and to relax. The man who was kneeling got up and started to sign to the two others, before turning towards you. He signed to you as well but quickly realised you didn’t understand him.

“Ain’t rememberin’ ASL?” the youngest asked you, tilting his head to the side in surprise

“I… I got in a bike accident. Don’t remember my past… Don’t remember Ambrose or… you three actually. My parents thought it would help me stay away from you but… I guessed it doesn’t work that way when you see a red string all the time, not knowing where it leads” you explained

The three men exchanged a look. They didn’t know what to feel about it. They hated that you didn’t remember what you used to share, and that you didn’t come back thanks to the memories of them taking good care of you. They were even more upset that the first fresh memory of them was them brutally killing people. But at least you were back to Ambrose. You were back home. And they were going to make sure you wouldn’t want to leave again. They were very much aware that fate granted them a new chance to have you back and they weren’t going to screw it up, even if it wasn’t starting very well.

“Don’t be afraid of us, 'kay? It’s true it ain’t lookin’ good, but we’d never hurt ya. I’m Lester, and they're Bo and Vincent” the man presented the three of them “We’re brothers and we’re sharin' ya as our soulmate, but ya already know that” he tried to smile at you

“Sinclairs” you hummed and the men smiled at you, your memories didn’t seem to be that far away after all.

“Look darl’, how ‘bout ya go to our house and grab a shower? Ya relax while we… take care of the mess here. And after that, we’ll get you something to eat and we’ll talk, yes?” Bo offered

You noticed how none of them dared coming too close to you, they didn’t want to stain you with their crimson hands. They didn’t want to watch you run away from them like last time.

“I don’t know which one is your house” you replied

“Les’ll show ya. One room is yours, always has been and always will be. We’ve got no secret for ya, so ya can freely look 'round” Bo continued but Vincent quickly signed to him “Oh yeah, maybe don’t go in the basement. Ya’ve seen enough horror for today” Bo tried to smile at you but it looked more like a grimace.

You simply nodded.

Your attention went to Lester before turning back to leave the house. Lester quietly showed you the way to the Sinclairs home. You stayed silent, watching around the two of you. It was strange to not be bothered by the red string anymore, it was as if your eyes could finally see a scene in its entirety.

Lester stopped in front of a house and you realised you would have been able to find it actually, because your whole being calmed down at the sight of it.

“Just gonna grab my bag in my car” you told Lester who nodded, he bit on his bottom lip, debating on telling you something, so you simply watched him, waiting for him to say what was on his mind.

“Don’t be that quiet ‘round us, ‘kay? Ya stopped talkin’ to us ‘bout what was on your mind right before leavin’. But really, we need ya here, so talk to us and we’ll do whateva ya wanna” Lester told you

“Were you killing people already when I left?” you asked and Lester looked away

“No, yes. It’s complicated. And maybe we ain't needin' talkin' 'bout this subject right away. Maybe we can first remind ya that we were good soulmates to ya” the man continued and it made you smile

“Before that, ya’ve got a crime scene to take care of” you replied, and you realised it almost sounded teasing.

Lester bit on his lips again, before nodding and leaving you, no matter how wrong it felt to him to do so.

Part 3

Taglist: @staley83 - @joyfulllittlething

#house of wax x reader #bo sinclair x s/o #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x s/o #vincent sinclair x you #vincent sinclair x reader #poly!sinclairs x s/o #poly!sinclairs x you #poly!sinclairs x reader #slasher x s/o #slasher x you #slasher x reader #poly!slasher x reader #poly!slasher x s/o #poly!slasher x you #lester sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x s/o

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