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helloalycia · 4 years ago

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my patient’s neighbour [three] // wanda maximoff

summary: your relationship with Wanda gets a little bumpy when her work life crosses over with your personal life.

warning/s: implied kidnapping, mentions of anxiety

author's note: so the ‘i love you’ confession was actually inspired by an incorrect quote on @aquamarinescarlet’s page! i thought it would be cute aha

It was two months into our relationship when I knew I'd fallen in love with Wanda. I can't remember the exact moment when it hit me – I guess it had happened gradually over time – but I remember the embarrassing moment when I told her.

She'd brought me as her date to an Avengers party thrown by Tony Stark. I'd been to one of them before, about a month into dating her, as she'd wanted me to meet her friends from work AKA the freakin' Avengers. They were actually really great and (somewhat) humble people. I didn't expect to become 'friends' with any of them, more just be friendly whenever I saw them through Wanda. To my surprise, I became quite good friends with Natasha Romanoff.

We had the same dark sense of humour, both had an unexplainable obsession with horror films and she was genuinely just really easy to talk to. I wasn't expecting it, but it was nice to gain a new friend in addition to a new girlfriend.

So, I was at my second Avengers party with Wanda by my side, but the party had ended about half an hour ago and I may or may not have been drunk.

We were sat on the couch, conversing with the other Avengers, and I was sat between Wanda and Natasha. The others were involved in their own conversations and I was too dazed to realise what I was doing until it happened.

"Wanda has no idea I'm in love with her," I said (not-so) quietly, leaning over to my left, into Wanda's ear unknowingly.

Wanda, who was playing with my fingers in her hand, paused and glanced to me with bright eyes, a surprised expression on her face.

"You're in love with me?" she asked, lips twitching into a smile.

I blinked, her words settling in, before I licked my lips. "Oh, sorry." Turning to my right, I moved to Natasha's ear, whispering loudly, "Wanda has no idea I'm in love with her."

Natasha glanced to me with a quirked brow, amused smile on her lips. "She doesn't? You sure about that?"

"You're in love with me?" Wanda repeated, sitting forward and earning my attention.

I gasped, wondering how she knew, before slapping Natasha's arm and looking to her with a frown. "You told her?! I trusted you!"

Natasha ignored me, instead looking to Wanda with an encouraging look. "I'll leave this one to you. Good luck."

She stood up, heading over to Thor and Bruce Banner on the other couch, and I booed her as she left.

"Yeah, run away, you secret-give-away'er!" I called after her with a pout, before crossing my arms.

"I think it's time I take you home," Wanda said decidedly, trying not to laugh as she pulled me up off the couch.

"I don't like Natasha anymore," I mumbled, allowing Wanda to take me away.

She bid her goodbyes to her teammates before leading me to the lift. I don't really remember what else happened until we were suddenly at my house – well, my parents house, but they had given it to me as they travelled the world with their retirement money. She was leading me inside and to my bedroom, getting me dressed like the sweet girlfriend she was, before tucking me into bed.

Of course, being the clingy drunk I was, I pulled her on top of me and didn't let go as I wrapped my arms around her.

"Stay," I mumbled into her shoulder, closing my eyes.

She chuckled, trying to pull away. "Y/N, you need to sleep, c'mon."

"I will," I whined, not letting her leave. "If you stay with me."

She paused, before giving in with a sigh. "Fine."

Tiredly, I smiled. "Yesssss." I patted the spot next to me. "Right here, please."

In the light of my bedside lamp, I saw her roll her eyes playfully, before turning off the lamp and jumping under the covers with me. I sighed with relief, cuddling into her side without hesitating.

"I love you," I mumbled, barely thinking about it.

She tightened her embrace and I felt her kiss the top of my head. "You're probably gonna forget you said that in the morning. But I'll remind you. And if you still think it, then I'll reply."

Her words went into one ear and out the other. I hummed in response, not knowing what I was answering to, and let myself get lost in her scent as I drifted into a peaceful slumber.

When I woke up the next morning, I quite liked the idea of sharing bed with Wanda and waking up to her dishevelled hair and our intertwined legs, even though I didn't remember inviting her to stay. Of course, I also had a banging headache and felt like someone had hit me with a train, so I didn't get chance to appreciate it much.

"Fuck," I mumbled, pulling the duvet over my head to block out the sun streaming through the slit in my curtain.

Wanda, who was shuffling beside me, yawned and stretched her arms. Suddenly, I heard quiet laughter, before she spooned me, wrapping her arms around my stomach and pulling me closer. Her leg raised and clung to my waist, and as much as I appreciated the way she fit perfectly against me, I was still in pain.

"Why did you let me drink that much?" I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut.

"I believe that was your own conscience decision, dorogoy (darling)," she said in that know-it-all voice of hers, and it was hard for me to be annoyed at her because she had a raspy, morning voice and her accent was especially thick with fatigue and damn, Wanda Maximoff was pretty sexy in the morning.

"Whatever," was all I said, but I placed my hand on hers and joint our fingers together.

"You know," she started, tucking her head comfortably into my neck, "I quite like waking up to you like this. You're very cute, even if you're cranky."

Despite aforementioned crankiness, I cracked a smile. "I like this, too."

It was very domestic, something I didn't get the privilege of experiencing with Wanda because she worked a lot, and it felt good.

After hanging around in bed for a little while longer, I got up and showered whilst Wanda offered to make me some breakfast – "Pancakes are a hangover's cure! Or at least according to Tony". After getting ready, I came downstairs to find a stack of pancakes and maple syrup waiting for me.

"You are a Godsend," I told her, pressing a haste kiss to her lips before sitting at the table with the pancakes. "Thank you."

She chuckled, grabbing her own pancakes and sitting opposite me. "Anything for you."

After I dug in, complimenting her on how delicious they tasted, a comfortable silence fell between us. Well, until Wanda spoke up cautiously.

"So, does anything from last night ring a bell?" she asked, making me look up to see her staring eagerly.

My content expression fell. "Shoot, did I do something embarrassing?" I facepalmed. "God, what was it? Did I fall asleep on somebody?"

She smiled with adoration, eyes twinkling in the morning sun. "No, nothing like that."

I could tell there was something though, judging from her hesitant expression. I scrunched my face with regret.

"What did I do?" I asked, unprepared to hear it. "Did I say something to you?"

She played with her fork, twisting it around in her plate nervously, which was very unlike her. "Yeah, actually, you did."

I waited, feeling like the silence was deafening the longer she stayed quiet.

"You said you were in love with me," she said, voice so soft and quiet that I barely heard it.

I felt my heart drop to my stomach. "I what?"

"I mean, technically you said I had no idea you were in love with me, but I think you were supposed to tell Nat that," she continued, eyes avoiding mine. "Then you told Nat and you got mad at her because you thought she told me."

I facepalmed for the second time that morning. "Oh, God..."

"Then you invited me to stay the night and told me you loved me before you fell asleep," she finished rambling. "I just, er, wanted to check if you meant that..."

I raised my eyebrows with disbelief. "Are you kidding?" I reached over the table to grab her hand. "Wanda, of course I meant that! But I hoped to tell you at a better time than by accident whilst I was drunk."

Blue eyes flickered to mine, excitement creeping onto her face. "You meant it."

I breathed out, realising what exactly I'd just said. "I– yeah. I meant it. I'm in love with you, Wanda."

Her smile widened. "I'm in love with you, too."

My heart fluttered in my chest as I relaxed my shoulders. "You love me."

She giggled, squeezing my hand. "We just did this."

"Right! We did," I said, shaking my head, grin forming on my lips. "Sorry. I'm just so happy right now."

"Me, too," she said in agreement, thumb stroking the top of my hand.

I didn't think things could go wrong from here. I was on top of the world! But of course, the world had a funny way of ruining things.

—

Dating a superhero had its pros and cons, I suppose, but neither really showed themselves to me often as it was as if Wanda's superhero life was separate to the one we shared. When she and I were together, it was just us. And she would leave for work and I wouldn't think about it. Then she would return and it would be us again.

If I took a moment out of my day to stop and really think about where she was, what she could be doing, the danger she could be in... I just couldn't do it. Even when she would show up to our next date with a fresh bruise from training, or a broken bone from a mission gone too far, I'd worry about it for the time being then try to let it go. Those weren't superhero perks, those were reasons to be concerned. And I couldn't handle imagining the time when she'd come back to me in a worse state, or to not even come back at all.

So, her superhero life rarely overlapped with our shared one. And I was happier that way. Until it did.

I was running errands one day, little things that required me to run around the city – dry cleaning, grocery shopping, picking up some DIY stuff for my house. It was a pretty relaxing, fun day. I'd treated myself to lunch, was soaking in the sunshine and planning to unwind with some Netflix on the couch.

"Hold on, I need to unlock the front door," I mumbled into the phone. I was talking to Wanda, catching her up with my day as I returned home.

"Try not to drop your phone this time," she teased from the other end, and I could just imagine the smirk on her face.

"So funny," I said with an eye roll. "Real comedian."

She laughed as I placed my phone in my pocket, not quite hanging up. Pulling my keys from my shopping bag, I fiddled with them, attempting to find the key for my front door.

Suddenly, something metal and cold pressed to my back and I jumped, dropping my keys with surprise.

"Don't draw attention," the person said, and I went rigid, looking up to see a reflection of someone unrecognisable in the glass of my front door. "You're going to leave your things here and come with me."

"Who are you?" I asked, trying to turn around, but the object pressed harder into my back, making me wince.

"Leave your fucking things here and give me your hand," the man ordered, ignoring my question. "Phone included. And don't even think about making a call."

I swallowed hard, panic settling in as I listened to the threatening stranger. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I realised that the stranger had no idea I was already on a call. With an Avenger nonetheless.

"I'll put it down," I narrated my actions, soon coming to realise that the object behind my back was in fact the barrel of a gun.

Hoping Wanda was still listening in and could hear the exchange, I put my phone on the ground and placed my shaking hand in the man's outstretched one. He tucked his gun back into the waistband of his jeans before tugging me down the steps and to a black van parked opposite my house.

Too paralysed with fear at the sight of two more strange men getting out the van, I felt my throat go dry and words get stuck at the bottom. Looking around, I hoped to find a neighbour's eyes or dog-walker's lost gaze, but nobody was here. Whoever these men were had timed their entrance perfectly.

When we reached the van, the back doors were opened and the man spun me around roughly before placing a bag on my head and shoving me inside. Hot tears ran down my face as I squeezed my eyes shut, wondering what the hell was happening and who these people were. But mostly, I hoped Wanda was already on her way.

—

The whole incident was over soon. That's what we were calling it now. The 'incident'. Of course, it could have been called other things... the kidnapping, the abduction, the capture. But we settled with the 'incident'. It was less explicit, as if minimising how utterly terrifying the whole experience was.

I never did find out who those men were. Wanda offered to tell me, feeling a need to explain herself and blame herself and drag herself down in the dirt to make me feel better, to bring me out of my silence and give me something to feel good about. I recalled her mentioning they were after her, getting to her through me – her girlfriend.

She rescued me quite quickly. Being tied up and locked away and left to cry like a child, wondering if I was going to die any minute at the hands of captors whom I had never met nor done anything to in my life, wasn't fun. People always wonder what they would do in those situations; maybe they would square up and put up a fight; maybe they would scream and shout and get everyone's attention; maybe they'd even retort with sarky remarks and go out with a blaze of glory.

I never imagined what that would be like, but I discovered I could do neither of those things. I just let them take me, let them threaten me and point their guns at me and tie me up and lock me away and–

I let myself cry and feel terrified and shake and lose my words and imagine the worst. Some would call that giving in, but this wasn't something you could prepare for. Surely my response was justified? I wasn't sure. I just knew that when Wanda burst onto the scene, taking out the men with ease and taking me out of there, taking me home, I was momentarily safe.

But then as she began to ramble off her explanations and apologies and regrets, I found myself turning in on myself, unable to hear her out. I didn't blame her one bit, but I also couldn't listen to one more second. So, I tuned her out.

I sat on the couch, staring at the way the thread was coming loose on one of my cushions. I thought about how quickly the whole 'incident' had happened. How one minute I was sat in a cell and now I was sat on my couch. How I was then shaking with fear and now I felt nothing.

"...you listening? Hey, are you okay?"

I only tuned back in when she sat on the cushion I was looking at. Her fingers rested on my cheek, guiding my head upwards so I was looking her in the eyes, glassy and red and swollen from crying. I probably looked the same, though I was all out of tears.

"I promise you nobody will be back here," she said with certainty, thumb stroking my cheek. "There's S.H.I.E.L.D. agents posted all along the street. And I'm happy to stay here if you need me to. You're safe now."

I knew I was. And despite my calm exterior, my heart was still racing in my chest, adrenaline still pumping through my body as if expecting to make a sudden break for it.

"What are you thinking?" she muttered, eyes flicking between mine curiously. "Talk to me. Please."

I shook my head, looking away. "I'm okay."

"It's okay not to be," she said quietly, squeezing my hand.

"I know."

So, we kept that bit up for a few more days, maybe a week. Me pretending I was okay, though still distant from Wanda as if she'd caught the plague, and her pretending she knew I was telling the truth.

But I knew she sensed the nightmares I had, waking me up in cold sweats. I knew she saw the way I tensed when a shadow cast along the wall from a moving object. Or the way I never faced the front door when unlocking it to get inside.

I guess she couldn't take it anymore at some point, possibly a week or two later, as when I was mixing my soup in a bowl after heating it up in the microwave, she sighed loudly.

"You okay?" I asked, glancing up at her. She was stood by the counter, seeming tired.

She'd been staying with me since the incident happened, obviously, and it was nice having her around so much, despite the circumstances. But I knew she was worried and had been keeping it in. I just didn't have the energy to acknowledge it.

"I'm fine," she said quickly, though her fingers still drummed on the countertop.

I let it go, shrugging, before paying attention to my soup. Her impatience was obnoxiously loud, filling the house with a discomfort she was dying to express. Eventually, she did.

"I'm not fine," she decided, and I stopped stirring my soup as I looked to her tugging on her sleeves distractedly. "I'm not fine because you're not fine."

"I've told you I am," I said monotonously, eyes boring into hers.

"I know you're not," she said, crossing her arms and hugging herself. "I've noticed you and..."

I quirked a brow. "And?"

She frowned, eyes softening with empathy. "Don't make me say it, Y/N."

I pressed my tongue to the back of my teeth as I looked down to my steaming soup.

"Talk to me," she pleaded, rounding the counter and leaning beside me, searching for my eyes. "I just want to help."

I swallowed hard. "I have nothing to say, Wanda."

"A really scary thing happened," she began hesitantly. "The fact that you don't have anything to say– that you've not said anything, isn't right."

"Well, I guess there's something wrong with me," I said dismissively, before grabbing the pepper grinder before me and using it.

"No, there's not," she reassured, not giving up. "You just need to talk.”

I set the grinder down, turning to face her abruptly. She straightened up with surprise, taking a small step back.

"What do you want me to say?" I asked, voice calm but full of unintentional malice. "Huh? What do you want me to tell you? That I'm terrified somebody is watching my house, waiting for a quiet moment to break in? That I have to follow you into every room you go in because I don't want to be left alone? That I can't fucking sleep because I'm scared that when I close my eyes, I'll be locked in a nightmare I can't escape? Is that what you want me to tell you? Does that make you feel better, Wanda? Because it doesn't make me feel any better. It just reminds me how fucking terrified I am."

I pocketed my shaking hands, blinked away the tears that threatened to fall, swallowed down the lump rising in my throat. She watched me, unsure what to say at first and I didn't blame her. It was an outburst waiting to happen.

"I'm–"

"Don't say you're sorry," I snapped, before flinching at my tone. "I know you're sorry. And I don't blame you for what happened. I just– I don't know what to do anymore."

Her eyes were studying me like green lasers burning holes into my skin and I hated that I couldn't meet them. I hated even more that I couldn't leave the kitchen out of anger or frustration because I was too scared to be left alone without her by my side.

So, I leaned against the counter, turning away from her, and let out a shaky breath, eyes burning and heart thumping in my ears. Her arms suddenly wrapped around me without question, and I let her take me into her chest, squeezing me so tight so I knew she was there.

Closing my eyes, I felt tears rolling down my cheeks, but no sound came out. I struggled to breathe, unable to take in air through my nose as I stuffed my head so hard into her shirt that I couldn't see a thing except darkness. I knew I'd eventually be okay, that I'd eventually get back to some sense of normalcy. But for now, having her here with me was okay. And I found it much better to just be with her then have to go over and talk it out.

She was warm and strong and smelt like home and God, I loved her. I was lucky to have her.

—

It took about a month and a half to get over the incident. And after that, we never brought it up again. It was just easier that way. We continued on like usual, falling back into our old routine of having a separate us and her separate superhero life.

At some point, I thought it would be nice for her to meet my parents. They were back in town for the week, wanting to check in and see how I was. It was nice having them around and I was excited for them to meet Wanda, who I'd mentioned in some of our Skype calls.

"We don't have to make it a thing," I said as I proposed the idea. We were cleaning around Anna's apartment as she napped in her bedroom. "It's not like an 'oh, meet the parents' thing. They just happen to be in town and we're having a dinner, so I thought you might want to come. If you don't, it's not a big deal. I haven't told them to expect you. Not unless you say yes. Which you don't have to."

She chuckled, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Dorogoy (darling), calm down. Breathe."

I neatened the cushions on the couch with a bit too much force. "Am I not breathing? I'm pretty sure I'm breathing."

Her hands slipped into mine as she spun me around to face her. An amused smile on her lips, she said, "You need to relax. If you're like this now, then who knows what you'll be like on the night of the dinner?"

It took me a second to realise what she'd said and when I did, my eyes widened. "Wait, the night of the– does that mean you're going?"

She laughed, tugging me closer to her. "Yes, I'm going. I'd love to meet your parents!"

My shoulders relaxed as her fingers played with mine mindlessly. A smile appeared on my lips as I said, "Thank you. I– it'll be fun. No pressure. Just a dinner."

"Just a dinner," she confirmed, before kissing my forehead gently. "Can't wait."

And so on the day before my parents left for Scotland, yet another trip on their never ending retirement travels, I waited for Wanda to pick me up so we could go to a restaurant to meet my parents, who were already there after spending the day shopping in town.

She arrived at the door with a beautiful smile and bright eyes, looking me up and down.

"Just on time," I teased, tilting my head to the side, before being serious. "You look amazing tonight, Wanda."

"As do you, moya lyubov' (my love)," she said sweetly, leaning forward to kiss my cheek, before stepping inside. "Also, these are for you."

She removed her hand from behind her back as I closed the door, revealing a gorgeous, colourful bouquet of flowers.

"I saw them and thought of you," she began to explain without even realising how cute she was; a smile crept on my lips as she continued, "but then I realised I've never gotten you flowers before which is very dumb of me because a pretty girl deserves pretty flowers, right?"

There was no doubt that my face was heating up from the attention, flustered yet honoured at her words.

"Wanda, I love them," I said, accepting the flowers and meeting her gaze. "And to be fair, nobody has ever gotten me flowers before."

"You're kidding," she said with disbelief, stepping forward and wrapping her arms loosely around my waist. Reading my serious expression, she added, "Not even for your birthday? Or a celebration?"

I shook my head. "Nope."

She gave me a knowing look. "Well, that's very unfortunate. But I'm glad I could be the first."

I held her gaze, amusement dancing in her smile. Mirroring her expression, I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her nose, making her scrunch it up delightfully.

"Me, too," I said, and I meant it.

"Come on, we should get going," she said, squeezing my waist before letting go. "Don't want to be late, do we?"

"We do not," I agreed, before putting the flowers in a vase of water and leaving them by the door.

"You ready?" she asked, holding open the front door.

I intertwined our hands and met her smile with my own. "I'm ready."

Taking the girlfriend to meet the parents. What could go wrong?

#wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch #elizabeth olsen imagine #elizabeth olsen #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #marvel #mcu

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oftenderweapons · 4 years ago

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Illicit Affairs — Hoseok

Pairing: Hoseok x reader (nicknamed Giggles)

Wordcount: 11.2k

Genre: Smut. A tiny little bit of angst and fluff too but. Smut.

Rating: 18+

Hi bumblebees! Thank you for staying with me so far and for being so kind with hey works and my continuously shifting schedule.

Quick plot! Hoseok and Giggles have just met: Giggles was the substitute for Mickey’s vet and she helped the doggo and Hoseok during an emergency, however the hour they spent together was enough for Hoseok to develop a quite intense crush for the young woman. He decides he wants to invite her to a date and picks his apartment as the location, going out of his way to try to impress her. However, the elegant dinner miserably crashes once his poor nerves abandon him. Fortunately, Giggles can take the reins, but is also willing to give them up at the right moment.

Special thanks to beta extraordinaire, @hobiandsprite I really love you. Please, don’t be sad and let those giggles out every now and then.

Moving on to The Big Stuff.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Alcohol consumption, swearing. Basic BDSM training, Sir!Hoseok x sub!reader; safe sex, briefest mentions of masturbation (male and female), grinding, humping, making out, lots of tongue action, food play (and very messy one at it), cum play, cum eating, mild choking kink, one (1) breast slap, mild fetishism (panties, perfume/smells). Hoseok is overall very controlling, especially while he’s giving her basic training. There’s some sort of exhibitionism (if you like,,,, squint). Also Hoseok is a neurotic mess, Giggles is also quite tense and both like each other a lot, which leads to a few moments of weakness here and there. Mentions of vet emergency (don’t worry, Mickey is doing alright, he was just suffering from the hot temperatures).

Here you can check my full masterlist

Enjoy 💜✨

Jung Hoseok was nervous.

He was tense, palms sweating, nape drenched in perspiration.

He was a ball of nerves and he had never felt like this in a long time. Maybe ever since his first performance in the U.S.

Not like the day of their debut, but close.

And all of this for a stupid date.

He just wanted to know you, see if the image he had built of you actually corresponded with your actual personality.

He cracked his neck and shoulders, pacing back and forth, wondering if it were a good idea having you at his place.

After all, you were Mickey’s vet. He could be safe with you, right? You wouldn’t expose him now, would you?

It was the first time he ever brought someone in his home and he was way too nervous to feel comfortable.

He immediately picked up his phone.

“Jung. Hoseok. I don’t even know why I picked up this call. Why aren’t you getting prepped and polished for your date?” Yoongi’s voice was quiet and gravelly from the other side. It was seven pm, he shouldn’t have been sleeping, Hoseok mused, shaking his head once he realised Yoongi was spending the weekend with Kitten and the two had probably been dozing off on the sofa all afternoon.

“I think I fucked up. I like this apartment, I can’t jeopardise my home.” He panicked, finally losing his cool.

Yoongi inhaled and groaned as he stood up, leaving Kitten alone to rest undisturbed. “She seems a kind person. A smart one too. Just talk to her.”

“You know I suck at talking!” Hoseok whined, combing his hair off his forehead. “I don’t know why I want to impress her so bad.”

Yoongi chuckled. “Because you have a crush on her.”

“But I don’t even know her!” Hoseok protested, sitting on the sofa for a second before standing up again.

“That’s the key ingredient of a crush. Once you start getting to know her, you either grow out of it or fall in love.”

Hoseok cocked his head and toyed with his earlobe nervously. “Do you think she’ll like me? I mean, she looks so sweet, and so innocent and I can’t even imagine her being into—”

“Don’t judge. Strange fits sometimes work. Think Jimin and Princess. Seokjin hyung and Angel. They work. Strange, I know, but they do.”

Hoseok exhaled.

“Stop pacing. Don’t be too hard on yourself. First date is always a bumpy road. Maybe you’ll find out she’s not your thing and all these worries will be gone by the end of the night.”

“What if I like her and she doesn’t like me?”

Yoongi softened. “It’s all part of the game, Hobah.”

Hoseok nodded. “I have to go see if the chef needs help.”

Yoongi grinned. His friend was really going out of his way. Once, all he wanted were hotel rooms and quiet, curvy brunettes with so many sins they had officially given up on heaven at least a lifetime ago. “No matter how it goes, I’m sure you’ll find someone right for you.”

Hoseok nodded curtly before realising his friend couldn’t see his reply. “Thank you, Yoongi.”

“Sweep her off her feet, Casanova.”

With a bubbly laugh, Hoseok interrupted the call, headed to the private kitchenette. “Can I help you in any way?” Hoseok asked, still keeping his hands on his stomach, trying not to touch anything that could possibly cause a disaster — which considering the setting and his poor cooking skills meant everything.

“It’s okay. I can take care of everything. Don’t worry. Relax.” The chef almost wanted to take a second to pat the younger man’s back. He was probably six years his senior but the stress of a first date was timeless.

And the poor guy was sweating disastrously.

“Okay, then I’ll go check the table.” Hoseok murmured.

“Already settled. And the cake is waiting in the fridge. It’s still too hot for it.” The chef replied as he turned off the stove since the sauce for the noodles had reached perfect texture. “Maybe a small glass of soju could help?”

Hoseok shook his hands in panic. “Oh, no. That would make it all worse. Why is it so hot in here!”

He walked away from the kitchen, once more staring at the table near the wide floor to ceiling windows. The view would soon turn stunning, the Han river running like a pitch black road, cutting the city in two, Itaewon lighting up in the distance and emerging like a glowing mirage against the night sky.

What if she’s scared of heights?

He banged his head against the wall, pacing again, texting the group chat.

HS: “What if she suffers from vertigo?”

SJ: “You didn’t place the table by the window, did you?”

Hoseok tugged at his hair, undoing a button on his shirt. Why was everything so fucking hot?!

HS: “Should I move it? I have ten minutes! I can move it.”

TH: “Don’t. You can place her with her back to the window if she feels uncomfortable.”

JK: “You’re such a loser, hyung. Relax, it will work out.”

HS: “DON’T TELL ME TO RELAX YOU UNGRATEFUL RASCAL”

JM: “Okay, let’s calm down. Personally I would feel even worse with my back to the window. You can move to the coffee table. It will feel more informal and you will FINALLY GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS,

JM: “she probably just wants to chat over fried chicken while you’re going to make her uncomfortable with all that finesse.”

NJ: “Gotta agree with Jimin on this one. She’ll simply want to chat. You’ll want to chat and get to know her.”

YG: “I told you it will be alright now stop spamming.”

HS: “AND I SUCK AT CHATTING”

JK: “yeah, you kinda ramble”

JM: “not helping Guk.”

The doorbell rang.

Fuck.

He pocketed his phone and headed to the door. “Yes?”

“Uhm… It’s confusing here, I think you need to pick me up.” You said anxiously over the intercom.

“I’m coming. Wait in the foyer.” He slipped on his shoes and got in the elevator, cracking all the joints of his fingers as it descended, going through the process again once he had cracked them all. He dumbly wished he had more fingers.

The door opened and there you stood with your back to him, your shoulders covered by a messy tumble of hair.

“Hello?” He called, making you turn around immediately.

His stomach turned upside down when you hit him with your sweetest, most radiant smile as you faced him. “Hi!”

He felt dumbstruck. You looked adorable, way too pretty for him. Way too incredible for anyone in the universe. “Hello.” He repeated, feeling a nervous smile constrict his face.

It almost looked like a grimace. For a second you thought you had somehow disappointed him. Maybe your dress was too informal? Were you too underdressed?

Staring at his outfit, you realised you were.

“You look very handsome.” You flattened your dress nervously, aware of every movement you made, feeling ridiculous.

“Oh, thank you.” He emitted the most neurotic laugh. Pull yourself together, Jung Hoseok, he innerly scolded himself before gesturing to the lift. “Shall we?”

You nodded, your glee completely lost. Staring at your dumb flats, you approached the opening doors and entered, Hoseok following suit.

You both stayed silent for a couple floors. “How was your day?” You managed to find the guts to ask.

“Uhm… Okay, I guess? My family came to pick Mickey up the other day so it’s been very quiet and a bit lonely.” He smiled but he looked sad.

You nodded. “Pets really change the whole feeling of home.”

He noticed you pressing your hands together before your lap, tucking your elbows against your sides as you tried to shrink yourself enough to disappear. You knew you should have bought a nice dress for this. You cursed your childish tastes and your sweet saffron dress, too demure and cheap for him. You had maybe spent 30,000 won on it, probably the equivalent of his shoelaces.

Screw that — obviously even his shoelaces cost more than that.

You started sucking at your lips, frowning at yourself for messing up your lipgloss. Out of nerves, you started twisting slightly side to side, your dress moving slightly with the motion, your eyes still focused on your shoes.

He was intimidating. Why in the world did you accept a date with him? He was way out of your league! All it would be was one date you would remember someday in your old years, annoying your grandchildren with that one time you had dinner at one of the most incredibly powerful and famous artists of the world.

Hoseok surreptitiously dried his palms against his trousers. He looked at you. His stomach turned again. He wondered how he would manage to eat all that food. All he could do was look at you and take in the cute freckles, that peppered your nose and cheekbones, and your arms too.

“You have freckles.” He noted absentmindedly, a thought unwillingly turned into speech.

You turned your head to him, batting your lashes confusedly. Was it a good thing or a bad thing?

“Yes.”

“You look like a strawberry.” Jung Hoseok, what the fuck.

You frowned. Again, was that good or bad?

“No one has ever told me that before,” you replied with a tense giggle.

He cocked his head at the sound. That was sweet. He liked that. Could he make you laugh like that again? “And you look very pretty in the dress. That shade of yellow really compliments you.” He confessed, feeling his whole face blush.

This felt like his first crush, when he would hide behind corners not to face the girl he liked, and when he would hide his face because it made him feel strange to be looked in the eye by her. She was way too pretty for him.

Thank the heavens, you thought as the doors finally opened on his floor.

He was drenched in sweat. He could literally feel the back of his shirt stick to his skin. He hoped you wouldn’t notice.

He smiled again, this time more relaxedly as he led the way. The lighting was perfect, the deep night sky splashing its colour over Seoul, the billowing darkness of the Han, the magical glimmering of Itaewon, like a flock of fireflies in the distance.

“Goodness gracious,” you exclaimed, walking toward the window and looking out, completely ignoring the table. “This is… It’s like flying.”

He smiled and let his shoulder sag in relief, his elated exhale cooling his heated chest. “I was panicking because it kind of hit me that you could be scared of heights. Like one of those last minute panic thoughts.”

You turned to him to comfort him. “It’s—”

You noticed the table. You noticed the gargantuan quantity of bowls and dishes and plates and cups spread all over it.

Suddenly it all made sense.

“Was this supposed to be a formal dinner?” You asked, your whole face scrunched in perplexity.

He froze in utter confusion. “Just dinner.”

“Are you okay?” You asked, looking as his left eyelid started pulsating with small flutters.

He hurriedly placed his hand over it, turning his back to you. “Yeah, just… Hot weather, blood pressure...”

You walked closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He was drenched. “Jung Hoseok,” you called calmly.

You could feel his heartbeat get three times faster.

“Hoseok. Turn around,” you told him sweetly, rubbing his shoulder-blade softly, completely ignoring the way the fabric stuck to his skin.

He turned to you, still cupping the left side of his face with both hands.

“Are you nervous?” You asked, feeling the ridge of his shoulder with your fingertips.

He nodded shyly, giving you the smallest pout.

“And you got a full meal for this? Were you trying to kill me by overfeeding me?” You asked with a tiny smile.

“I— I didn’t know what you like and I hired a chef so we could have excellent food here at home and—”

“This wasn’t necessary, you know that right?” You rubbed your thumb against the muscle and bone of his shoulder. “I mean, it’s not like I don’t appreciate it, but it seems like you went maybe… slightly out of your way for this.” You noticed more details, like the flowers and the candles and… wait, he hired a chef? There was another person that would take part in your date as a silent, distant viewer?

“Is it too much?” He asked, frowning and grimacing.

You offered him a lopsided grin and tipped your head to one side, then to the other, back and forth in a so-and-so gesture.

He covered his whole face with his hands and collapsed on the sofa. “Shit, I fucked up so bad.”

You crouched down before him, making sure that the dress didn’t expose too much of your thighs. “It’s okay. Would you like to have a formal dinner?”

“I just wanted to make a good impression.” He whined, tugging at his hair once more.

You touched his forearms, trying to ease his tension before realising that you were technically strangers and maybe he didn’t like being touched. You scolded yourself for your over-tactile approach, and your dumb habit of treating everyone like abandoned puppies. Embarrassedly you placed your hands on your lap, his face raising to meet yours as he felt your fingers leave his skin. Had he done something wrong? Had he made a fool of himself one more time, without even knowing?

“You already made a good impression—”

“I wanted to confirm it!” He wailed exasperatedly.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you tried to calm him down. “We can walk this walk or do something more low-key. More... relaxing,” you suggested, smiling easily, calmly.

He could feel himself calm down. “Would it disappoint you if we just… I don’t know... ate some noodles over a glass of soju and beer?”

You giggled. “That would make me ecstatic.”

“Let me go call off the chef then.” He stood to his feet. “Thank you so much.”

You shrugged and beamed at him. “No biggie.”

In two minutes the chef came out of the kitchen, bowing at you while you still sat on the sofa. “Good evening. I wish you a good meal. I hope you’ll enjoy the food.”

“Thank you for your hard work! I’m sure I’ll enjoy it!” You replied politely and warmly, watching the man collect a bag from the entry room and bow to Hoseok as he accompanied him out.

“He had already finished cooking.” Hoseok exhaled. He looked ten years younger and significantly less stressed. “The meat had already been grilled, it just needs to be warmed up in the oven.”

“You mean there’s more food?” You asked, eyes wide in terror.

He started shaking his hands in equal fear. “We don’t have to eat that too. Maybe just a couple short ribs?” He wondered.

You stared at the rice and side dishes on the table. It was probably four times what you normally ate, and that was without considering his half of the table. “You have glass noodles?” You asked, and he nodded excitedly at your interest.

“With aubergines and mushrooms and pork belly?”

You felt your mouth water. “Can we have those though?”

He smiled excitedly. “The chef was stir frying the vegetables so we would have to finish that.”

You shrugged. “I can do that while you go get changed, if you’d like. Wear something fresh and cozy.”

He looked around nervously.

You immediately realised what was wrong. How could he let a stranger wander through his house? And he wasn’t just anyone. He was a celebrity. A famous person. What if he thought you would sneak through his private spaces and sell information about him to the press?

“Uhm—”

“Oh my god. No, it’s okay. Who would let a stranger stay in their home while they’re in the shower. Dumb me. Sorry.”

He blinked a couple times. “It's the first time I have invited someone in my house, except for my close friends.” He looked down and smiled, his cheeks shooting up in a complicated mix of sadness and joy. “I'm nervous because of that too.”

You nodded. “I know it could sound dumb to say but I care about you. And I'm not interested in gossip and press and all of that. I will respect you and your home. It's basic human decency,” you said, sitting next to him. “I only suggested you go get a change of clothes because that cannot be comfortable and I wouldn't be surprised if you wanted out of that.”

He looked up at you with big, soft eyes. “It would really be okay?”

“Yes, it would, Hobi.” You flinched at the nickname. “Hoseok. Sorry.” You wanted to tear your own tongue off.

However, just as much as you felt disappointed at yourself for the small slip, he felt warm about you calling him by a nickname. He wanted you to say it again. And again. And well… again but in other ways.

“I'll be back in five minutes, just to rinse off and get comfy.”

You nodded. “I'll wait here and then we'll get the noodles ready.”

Hoseok felt extremely relieved once he changed his clothes. The loose linen joggers felt like a soft cloud around his legs, air already circulating better against his skin. And the satin shirt made him feel classy and casual at the same time.

He was pleased at the comfort-looks ratio of his outfit and exited the room confidently. He was further reassured once he found you scrolling through your phone, sitting there innocently, smiling at him once you saw him appear.

“Okay, ready to go?” He asked, standing in front of you, all set to accompany you to the kitchen.

You nodded and took his hand as he helped you up. “Let’s go.”

He smelled amazing, like anise and patchouli. Something sweet and manly at the same time. It suited him perfectly.

Standing a bit too close after he tugged you up, you surreptitiously tried to sniff him, your eyes falling shut once the vaguely honeyed fragrance met your nostrils.

He observed you as you stood there, clearly entranced. Heat crept up his cheeks as your breath tickled down his neck: he was slowly becoming aware of your presence, of the warmth that your skin radiated, of the way a strand of your hair skimmed his arm.

“I like your perfume,” you whispered.

He felt his knees grow vaguely wobbly, a swoony, shy smile stretching his lips.

The moment you opened your eyes, you realised his face was just a few inches away from yours, his blush visible in high definition right before your eyes.

He looked so incredibly, adorably embarrassed. “Thank you,” he replied quietly, almost afraid of breaking the spell of the moment.

Your eyes met his, and for a second he hoped you would get on your tiptoes and kiss him, but you casually turned around and started walking away, turning to him only to ask about the kitchen.

Trying to keep his delusions on the low, he led you to the kitchen, where all you could see was the tidy chaos of creation.

A few bowls were piled neatly in the sink, together with lined up utensils. You let him show you the several drawers and cabinets, explaining where to find a frying pan for the vegetables, the noodles already cooked and marinated in the secret sauce the chef had prepared.

All he could do was stare as you easily made your way through the motions, the main dish of your meal ready to be served after a few minutes, the vegetables keeping a crispy texture while the noodles hit a chewier feel once you mixed the two together.

You set both on different bowls and offered them to Hoseok. “I’ll put a couple short ribs in the oven.”

He nodded and reached the dining table, frowning at all the food spread there in cups and plates and dishes and bowls.

His disappointment was short-lived.

“Don’t worry about it,” you murmured gently, completely incapable of keeping yourself from tracing his spine in between his shoulder blades.

You watched his back straighten, the glossy satin glimmering at the shift of muscles and tendons underneath.

You wanted to see that again. No shirt on, next time.

You shook your head and blinked rapidly, trying to awaken yourself from your fantasy.

He set the bowls down and you sat in front of each other, thanking for the food quickly before you started chatting about which food was where.

The meal went on calmly while you talked about your family, your job, and the pets you had visited during the day. At the same time, he explained some of the undercover dynamics of his job, like all the training and briefing and preparations necessary before interviews, photoshoots, or even something as basic as a public appearance where all they had to do was stand and look pretty for the photographers. He teased the theme of the Run episode they had just filmed — which was almost fifteen episodes ahead to the one that had just been aired.

You chit-chatted for a long while, your conversation resembling the sound of chirping birds thanks to Hoseok’s naturally melodic intonation of speech. He was lovely when he stumbled a bit over his words, the ridge of his ears scarlet with embarrassment once a slip of tongue had him making a lewd allusion you caught with a mischievous grin he couldn’t quite catch since your eyes were glued to the table; he had been too busy being ashamed of his freudian lapsus to actually notice that you had enjoyed the reference.

He was saved by the sound of the oven beeping, telling him that the ribs were warm and ready, which made him excuse himself.

He returned just a minute later with more soju and beer, asking if you were okay with the serving or if you were full.

The smell was so inviting you let him convince you.

No matter the large dinner and the several dishes, you managed to eat way more than what you thought, only a quarter of the table remaining untouched.

“Okay, maybe we could pack up the leftovers.” You suggested, standing up once your conversation hit a natural pause, comforted by the feeling that Hoseok no longer felt like a stranger to you.

You helped him, easily getting acquainted with his living room and kitchen. It felt nice to get gradually more independent, enough that you could easily help him up with the containers and that you could assist him with organizing the tupperware in the fridge.

It was all going okay until you were standing in front of the open fridge, ready to close it when his hand landed on yours on the handle, holding the door open. He leaned against your back, grabbing a paper box from the top shelf.

“Sorry,” he spoke quietly, all chirpiness gone.

Shivers propagated from your spine to your limbs, your brain suddenly struck by the feel of perspiration coating your inner thighs. You felt wet and you weren’t sure if it was sweat or actual arousal.

His perfume came in again once he stretched to reach the box.

Hoseok’s attention moved to the mole on your neck as you leaned your head against his shoulder. “Careful, it’s heavy,” he said, giving a quick look at your lashes, at the freckles peppered over your cheekbones, your face turned to the side, ready to nuzzle into the crook of his neck.

His hand was hot against yours, his back light and solid at the same time.

He parted from you, feeling disappointed with the fact that he had to move, biting his lip as his arm struggled keeping the box upright.

You caved slightly as cool air replaced the warmth of his chest, still feeling the phantom presence of his touch.

“Let’s go back to the living room.” He bit his lip, grabbing another bottle as you almost ran from him.

You weren’t okay with what was going on. Not one small bit. You were not okay with the idea of getting drenched and making a mess of yourself on the first date. You were even less okay with the idea of going back home and spending all night with your hand between your legs, thinking about the mind-blowing sex Jung Hoseok was most definitely capable of performing. With a body like that and years of pilates lessons, there was no doubt he could rearrange your organs as your legs and arms bent to accommodate him and please him.

You were even less pleased by the way you craved to satisfy him. You wanted to hear him moan and whine with his melodious voice. You wanted to hear the symphony of his pleasure, the sound of his cries, the smashing of skin against skin, and maybe the legs of the bed scraping against the floor, the headboard thudding against the wall.

You wanted his perfume on your neck, against your chest. You wanted your thighs to smell like him, the scent of your sex mingling with his cologne. It was primal and visceral and obscure and thrilling.

And then a sick side of you wanted to wake up all the neighbours, let them know he was living the night of his life. And since you could only hope of getting a second chance, you found yourself ready to use the night you’d been granted, if fate would allow you an in to the sinful heaven you were imagining.

After all, you weren’t even sure he still liked you.

As he sat in front of you, Hoseok observed your side profile while you stared out of the window, completely lost in your thoughts, your cheeks reddened because of the alcohol.

He was so whipped for you.

However, he knew the initial thrill would eventually fade and leave him with an adorable, beautiful young woman who could never own his heart or tend to his vulnerable side. It had happened so many times before that he was just waiting for his interest to die down.

Because right as he stared at your dreamy expression, he realised he would never lay a finger on you.

You were far too precious for him to sully you with his dirty paws and devilish ways.

With a sliver of sadness tainting his smile, he placed the cake in the middle, preparing two forks, one on your side and one on his.

“I’ve heard champagne is great with strawberries,” he commented, opening the bottle and awakening you from your daydream.

You blinked a few times. “Oh, just a little or I’ll end up dizzy,” you replied with a small smile. “This cake looks beautiful.”

“I hope you aren’t allergic to strawberries or dairy products,” he mused, lifting up his glass to clink it with yours. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” you repeated before answering his questions. “Luckily I don’t have any allergies. Usually I prefer eating fruit and vegetables, but I’m pretty cool with any kind of food.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Hoseok replied before realising he’d better never see you again. You were too tempting, too pretty, too gentle and overall too attractive for someone like him. Chances were you would be a bit disappointed but would find a proper date within the next two weeks. Women like you were far too requested and treasured in a city like Seoul.

You were suitable from head to toe. You had a degree, a job, a place to yourself, you were accomplished. And then your innocent looks, your kind manners, the caring side he had the fortune of catching a glimpse of.

You would be taken in less than three weeks. He could tell.

It was a mystery to him how you were still single after eight months in the city.

He found the courage to look up from the dessert, only to regret it immediately.

Your mouth was wide open in an attempt to chomp on a huge strawberry, your lips rosy, your nose smeared with cream.

I shall not.

I cannot.

I should not.

He paused.

Fuck. I will.

He placed down his fork and stood to his feet, your eyes following him as he came to your side.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, looking at his stone-cold expression.

You put your fork down, staring back at him with concern.

His hand moved tentatively to your cheek, laying gently along your jaw.

Turning to him, you stared some more, your chest inflating and deflating rapidly and deeply — which was not lost on him.

Too afraid to look, you closed your eyes as he leaned down his thumb moving closer to your mouth, parted as you found it increasingly difficult to breathe.

Your whole world was dark and hot once his breath fanned over your face.

With overwhelming desire coursing through him, Hoseok stared at every single detail, drinking you in with eyes so hungry, like he could swallow every freckle, every mole, every bit of plump flesh and bony edge.

With his hand trembling slightly at the strange position, he dragged his thumb against the tip of your nose, collecting the cream smeared there.

Your eyes opened in surprise at the unanticipated motion, meeting his lowered eyelids, his lovely lashes making an appearance against the fair skin.

And then his thumb met your lips, covering them in sweetness.

“You had cream on your nose,” he said, his eyes never abandoning the curves of your lips.

Jung Hoseok knew he was a sinner already. But with heartbreaking realisation, he knew the next action would deem his fall.

His tongue slipped out of his mouth, guided by a need so deep he could barely control. With the worst intentions, he focused on touching you as little as possible, trying to scoop up the cream caught on the gentle petals of your lips.

What he didn’t expect was for your own tongue to slide out and brush against his.

From there, it was only ruination.

His tongue slid in your mouth, catching on all the flavours of the dessert. It was strawberries. Strawberries everywhere; your freckles, your hair, your shampoo, your dress, he was possessed by them, drowning in a forest of strawberry bushes growing all over him, climbing into his mouth and underneath his clothes.

“Hobi,” you called weakly as he let you go, your body shooting up on your feet as you tried to chase after his mouth, tried to have his arms around you.

He moaned and caught you, placing his forearm against your lower back and holding your cheek with the other. “I’m so sorry, baby.” He placed a chaste kiss on your lips. “I promised myself I wouldn’t but you’re too hard to resist.”

You looked at him with pleading eyes, kissing his jaw, trying to reach the underside of his ear. “Please.”

You tried to calm your breathing by inhaling deeply through your nose, which in retrospective was an awful move since his scent filled your lungs and all you could do was whine in reply, the sound ridiculous and embarrassing to your own ears.

“I’ll do bad things to you, honey. We should stop now,” he said, trying to be judicious.

“Please,” you begged again, rubbing your face against his neck, already trying to cover yourself in his perfume. “Just a kiss, please.”

Closing his eyes, he gave in, following the line of your neck, the sweet mole at the base, drawing your throat with the inner side of his lips.

“Hobi…” You whined once more before receiving a gentle tug at your hair.

“I’m getting there, don’t be impatient,” he growled, making your neck stretch backwards. Once more his tongue slipped out, drawing a line from the hollow between your collarbones all the way to your chin, stopping at your lower lip. “If you’re patient you get a reward, see? That’s how it works with me, sweetheart.”

He kissed your mouth, first delicately, tentatively, trying to feel you open up and give in.

Once you did, he locked your face against his with the hand of his nape, following your body as you walked backwards, reaching the sofa.

“What do you want to tell me, my pretty strawberry?” He teased once he allowed you to let go of him.

“Thank you.”

It was not what he expected, but it made his stomach churn with longing. He needed to please you more, give you more, just to hear those words again.

“You’re welcome, honey. Now, tell me. What do you want me to do, sweetie?” He watched as you sat on the carpet.

You remembered how soft it had felt earlier under your knees. “I wanna make out?” You asked, lashes batting. You didn’t want to sound eager.

“Just make out?” He asked, sitting down in front of you. There was no way he would allow you to blow him tonight.

You looked at him with sparkly eyes. He wanted to dive into them, to feel the magic they held glow inside his body. “Am I allowed to ask for more?” You questioned with the sweetest pout.

“You can ask me anything, honey.” He skimmed the skin of your jaw with the back of his fingers before feeling the hot curve of your neck under his palm.

“Would you think ill of me if I asked for more?”

He shook his head and smiled softly. He would never think ill of you. Not even if you asked him to fuck you for a whole audience of connoisseurs to stare. “You're my cute, little strawberry. I could never think lowly of you.” He cooed.

“What if I wanted you to… to fuck me?” You asked, biting your lip nervously before looking at him.

He thought about the consequences for maybe half a second. He felt awful because, at the end of all the reasoning he knew he would hoard you and every single ounce of pleasure he could coax out of your body.

“Are you sure you want that?” He asked, letting his hand follow the path between your breasts, down to your waist gripping your side.

You licked your lips and nodded. “I'll be so good to you.”

His grin was outright evil. “I know you will, baby.” He kissed your temple. “I need to go get protection if that's what you want. I'll give you a minute to think about it and if you still think so when I'm back, then we're gonna deal with your needy head, mh?”

You nodded, staring at him as he stood up, incapable of not studying his crotch where his cock was visibly tenting his loose trousers.

He chuckled as he watched you stare. “It'll be yours if you still want it later.”

Your eyebrows raised in disappointment as you watched him leave.

So… it was actually going to happen. Did you want it to happen?

What a stupid question! Yes. Of course.

You wanted him and it scared you and thrilled you at the same time.

His footsteps reached the room once more, disappearing once his feet touched the carpet.

“Okay. Here we go, sweetie. Are you still sure you want to have sex with me?” He asked, kneeling and moving your hair off your face, your head reaching his sternum from your seated position.

“Yes, I'm sure,” You confirmed curtly. “Please.”

Oh, to hear you beg. He could cum from that alone. It was intoxicating. And he wasn't even touching you. He could only imagine what sounds you would make once his cock would fill your cunt.

“You want the bedroom—”

“Here. Please.” You shut your eyes tight. You felt like an animal, willing to fuck wherever, and the immense temptation of feeling the plush carpet underneath your back, the city lights illuminating his skin…

Hoseok inhaled.

You were wilder than what you looked and such information aroused him immensely.

“Lay back, honey.” He murmured, extracting three small squares of foil from his pocket and laying them on the coffee table.

Slowly, you lowered your back to the carpet while he kneeled close to you, your legs rotating so that your feet laid right in front of his knees, your legs bent and pressed together.

“That's nice, ____. Lovely,” he said before placing his hands on your knees. “Would you like to spread your pretty legs for me?” He asked, his fingers sliding down your thighs, reaching the hem of the dress.

You looked adorable once you demurely parted your feet to offer him some space between your knees, the hem of the dress moving closer to your lap.

His legs slotted between your thighs and he bent down, reaching for your face. “Such a good girl,” he praised you, cooing once he noticed your cheeks redden. “So adorable.”

On all fours on top of you, you felt the unique shape of his mouth draw your throat before giving a lick. “I bet you taste like strawberries all over.” He started kissing down your chest, rubbing his cheek against your small breasts. “You make me feel like a man starved,” he continued, kissing your stomach, your abdomen, laying one small peck on the fabric covering your belly button.

“Hoseok,” you whined, feeling his hands around your hips.

He stopped brusquely, his body entirely leaving yours. “Now, now, sweetie. What did you just call me?”

You batted your lashes as you stared at him in confusion. “Hoseok.”

“Okay. If you want to have sex with me, honey, that name will not do.”

You stared at him some more.

“I’m Sir,” he affirmed sternly. “The moment you get wet between your legs, I become Sir to you, understood?”

You nodded quickly, breath and brain completely stolen out of you.

“No nodding, my cute berry. Either ‘yes, Sir’ or ‘no, Sir’. Let’s try again. Is it clear what you must call me?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He grinned and kissed your belly again, just a bit lower. “That’s excellent. Well done, ____.”

You smiled and placed your hands on his hair, feeling the soft locks as he looked up at you.

He growled at that, your fingers naturally curling in fists as you brought them to your chest. “A very good girl indeed.”

You propped yourself up to your elbows once he lifted the skirt of your dress.

He could barely believe you. “Goodness.”

“At first I thought my dress was stuck on my underwear when you called me strawberry.”

Under the cutest, loveliest, most girlish dress he had ever seen, he was met by another adorable surprise. You were wearing a playful pair of ruffled panties in gingham print, with a small strawberry embroidered on your mound.

“You’re going to kill me,” he moaned, eyes closing before he dipped his head between your legs, studying the patch of wetness on the gusset of your panties, drawing a line from there to your clit, eliciting a moan. “You’re so sweet. And so evil at the same time.” He bit your inner thigh, making you wince. “Can’t believe that song predicted you on my carpet.”

You giggled and arched your hips against his face, your wetness meeting his cheek lewdly.

He inhaled you, completely intoxicated before he came back up, his arms caging your head. “You really rubbed yourself against my face, honey?” He asked with a stone cold expression.

You were afraid again, but that didn’t keep you pussy from clenching around nothing.

“Yes, Sir.” You replied, the respect in your voice nothing but a taunt.

“If you make a mess you gotta clean it, sweetie. Understood?” He asked, grabbing your face and angling his cheek to your mouth. “Clean it.”

“Please, Sir,” you mewled, trying to push your crotch against him, crying out once you noticed his body was too far away for you to find something to grind against.

“Clean after yourself. Now.”

You did as he told you, feeling the salty, bitter tang of your arousal transfer from his smooth skin to your tongue.

“All of it,” he muttered once you stopped after the first lick.

You completed your task, his pelvis lowering to yours as a reward. “There you go. Now thank me.”

Your arms moved around his torso, trying to get him closer, just to brush your chest against the soft, smooth satin of his shirt.

“I said, thank me.”

“Thank you, Sir.” You felt him cave immediately, giving you his hard and lithe body against your chest, your crotch, right in your arms as your legs wrapped around him. You felt crazy, grinding against him like a teenager, ridiculously reminded of how you used to go off by humping a pillow. “Please, inside,” you wailed, your sigh hitting his chest and disappearing underneath his shirt. Once you inhaled, his cologne felt like a bruising kiss, your hips meeting his harder, faster.

“You like my perfume?”

You nodded furiously.

Not again. He violently separated himself from you. “What did I tell you about replies?” He scolded you.

“I’m sorry, Sir.” You looked down with repentance. “I like your perfume very much, Sir.”

“That’s right. Good girl. Now, after I praise you, thank me.” He pushed your dress up as his hand dragged heavily from your crotch to your throat.

“Thank you, Sir,” you replied obediently, watching as he got on his knees and tugged his trousers down, the white boxers underneath surprising you as they outlined his length perfectly.

“You want it out?” He asked, watching as you sat up straighter and licked your lips.

You were almost ready to nod when you caught yourself, Hoseok smiling proudly once he saw you correct your behaviour. “I want it out, Sir.”

“Excellent.”

He lowered his underwear too, his cock standing erect immediately, it fluttered even straighter once you kept looking, your hands touching your breasts needily.

Hoseok stretched to the coffee table, grabbing a condom and tearing the foil open, sliding the latex on quickly and firmly.

“My cute berry, I need you to be very careful about this. You know what a safeword is?”

You shook your head. “No, Sir.”

He momentarily covered himself, needing to get all your focus on his words. “Safewords are what you use to communicate with your partner in a BDSM scene. A safeword means that you don’t like what is going on and you want to slow down or stop. We will use the traffic lights system. If you say ‘yellow’, I will slow down, if you say ‘red’, I will let go of you entirely and help you recover from whatever it was that hurt you, mentally, emotionally or physically. On the other hand, ‘green’ means that you’re okay and you are ready to get back into the scene after a ‘yellow’. If I ask you your colour, you reply with those. All clear?”

“All clear, Sir.”

He grinned proudly. “Then explain to me how it works.”

“If I want to slow down, I call ‘yellow’. If I want to stop, I call ‘red’. If I’m all good, I call ‘green’ — Sir.” You added for good measure, knowing that one too many wouldn’t hurt for sure.

“That’s my good girl.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

He smiled as he looked in your eyes. He knew he would remember you forever, even if he never developed any feelings for you. You were by far the most unique woman he’d ever had under him so far.

For a second he observed your cute, frilly undies, wondering if he wanted them off.

No.

He took his cock out of his underwear, letting the waistbands of his trousers and boxers rest on his mid-thigh.

“Wanna keep these pretty panties on.” He murmured once he laid on top of you. “Tell me if the elastic band hurts you.” He said, moving the gusset aside and testing your wetness with his fingers, spreading the slickness over your folds. “So fucking soft. Dammit. Can't wait.”

He dipped his head against your neck. “You want it?”

“Yes, Sir.” You placed your hands on the small of his back, his eyes closing as he relished in your touch.

“Beg for it.” He murmured, dragging the tip up and down your slit.

You rolled your eyes. “No, Sir.”

“You won't beg?” He asked, looking at you.

You pouted. “Why do you want me to beg?” You asked with a frown.

“I need to know you want me, my sweet berry,” he pouted back. He touched your face giving you a few kisses to convince you. “I want to hear your sweet voice saying 'please', just one more time,” he whispered, feeling merciful, especially after all the ways he had already pushed you.

Your will bent to his. “Please.”

And just like that, his tip entered your warm, tight cunt, a moan exiting his mouth. “Yes, yes, ____. Yes, baby,” he groaned, at which you responded with a mewl.

“Hobi…” You cried, squeezing around him once he bottomed out.

“Don't make me punish you,” he murmured, exhaling raspily. “You've been such a good girl. Don't get naughty.”

“Sir, please.”

He started snapping his hips out, slowly, then in again, one inch at a time, so deep and slow, over and over. “Yes, baby. Tell me how good it feels.”

“It feels too good, Sir, I'm…”

He hummed in pleasure, feeling the skin of your neck under his lips. “Too good. My berry, you're so tiny and tight.” His hips trusted in quickly and unexpectedly.

“Holy… Sir, please, again, please.” You squealed, feeling his thumb slide your panties further aside to reach your clit.

He breathed out with effort against your ear as your mouth reached his earlobe. “Fuck, not there, Berry. Not there,” he said, tugging his ear out of your mouth.

“But Sir—,” you tried objecting before his pace became irresistible. While one hand reached the crown of his hair, holding him against you, the other one met his glute, your nails sinking in his flesh. Your breath started coming in short hiccups, leading you to your climax as he outright hammered into you, his back curved away while his forehead stayed glued to your neck.

“Am I fucking you right, ____? Is it good enough for my golden girl?” He growled once he felt you tightening around him more intensely, with longer squeezes.

“It's perfect, Sir. Thank you, Sir,” you reacted readily, shaking your head as pleasure started overpowering you, trying not to hurt him.

“Cum, my sweet berry. Show me.”

The hiccups of your breathing started turning in tiny whimpers, then squeals.

You were ready to bury your head in the ground and never come back because you knew what would come next.

The squeals turned into an uncontrolled cascade of giggles. Giggles.

Hoseok picked his head up at the curious sound, only to see your palm covering your mouth in an attempt to bottle the stupid reaction.

Hoseok smiled through gritted teeth, going faster, harder, deeper now that he understood that the sweet gurgling laugh was due to your orgasm peaking.

He pinned your hand away from your face, basking in the desperate joy of your bliss before he felt himself ready to blow.

“I'm gonna slide out now,” he warned, making sure that your high had faded and your body laid limp and drained underneath him.

Your body relaxed against the carpet, your eyes closed, your lungs still working hysterically to give you back some oxygen after the ruthless fit of giggles. You whimpered once you felt him pull out.

“Look at me, honey,” he called, making you prop your upper back on your elbows as you looked down, only to be met by the sight of Hoseok slipping off the condom. “Let me cum on your cute panties, mh? Can I? I promise I'm clean, I can show you the—”

“Do it,” you replied, giving him official permission.

“Really?”

“Really— I mean, yes, Sir.”

He smirked and started pumping himself furiously, his expression frantic as his tip pressed to your mound and he came apart, his hot seed drenching the red and white cotton, an animalistic growl making his whole chest shake.

You welcomed him in your arms once he collapsed on top of you, right hand smeared in slickness. “I’m gonna call you Giggles.” He said, kissing your mole, the precise spot where he could feel your blood run underneath the skin, the hollow just under your earlobe. “It was the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.”

You felt your whole body blush. “It’s so stupid but I can’t stop it.”

“Don’t stop it, it’s adorable.” He sniffed at your hair, “you still smell like strawberries.”

“Must be my shampoo.”

“Fuck. So good.” He sniffed some more. “I thought it would kill me earlier, by the fridge.”

“I thought you would kill me.” You said, feeling his neck with your lips. “Your perfume might be aphrodisiac.”

“You’re too tempting.” He chuckled. “I might need another round.”

“I can’t believe you actually fucked me on your living room carpet.” You said, combing his hair as he still regained his energies.

“Aren’t you happy?” He asked, suddenly panicked.

“No, I mean. I’m… I’m really happy. I’m just… incredulous that this is happening to me.” You replied with a surprised laugh.

“Maybe I should give it another go to make sure you actually understand what’s happening.”

“Would you mind helping me understand on the dinner table?” You batted your lashes cutely and paired that with an angelic smile.

“Are you even real?” He touched your face with his clean hand, giving you an inquisitive look. “You appear, all cute and innocent and then you want me to get you all dirty and filthy?”

Your smile widened. “The other ones were a bit scared by this side of me.”

“I won’t be scared of your needs, Giggles.”

You blushed again and hid your face.

“No hiding,” he reprimanded before rolling on his side, leaving you some room to obey the orders he was about to give you. “Keep giving me those sweet giggles,” he said, tracing your belly with his fingertips before trying to tickle you.

The effect was immediate. You clenched your legs and slapped his hands away from you, the torturing sound parting from your lips in a series of childlike gurgles. “Stop! I’m gonna mess up!” You screamed, trying not to stain your dress or the carpet. “No! No! Wait! Yellow!”

At that he took his hands off you immediately, your body laying on your back breathless.

“You good, Giggles?” He asked, voice drenched with worry.

You nodded, still panting.

“Can I take your clothes off?” He questioned, watching you move your head in confirmation.

“Okay.” He looked at your dress, trying to find a zipper. “Should I—”

“Start with my underwear, please?” You asked, your breath laboured due to arousal rather than exhaustion.

He nodded and licked his lips as he slowly tugged your panties down, careful about keeping his release from touching the carpet or your legs. Once the garment unhooked from your ankles, he folded it carefully to keep the wet fabric tucked in.

“Kneel, Giggles.”

You followed his command blindly, watching as your hands slid up under your skirt and tugged your dress up, his palms meeting your ribs and dragging the fabric upwards, past your breasts, then up against your armpits and backwards to your shoulder-blades, slipping the the neckline past your head.

Dress off, he let it fall distractedly to the floor, his eyes going from your face, to your hair, to your nipples — sinfully rosy — following the line leading from your breastbone to your belly button. He kissed the first piece of skin that met his lips, someplace where his heartbeat felt like a drum, like the bass coming from an old boom box. It was so comforting in a way he barely understood.

He needed room to think. “Get on the table.” His voice was once more stern and distant, especially once you watched him grab the opened foil containing the tied up condom, then stand up and leave.

You followed his direction nonetheless, standing awkwardly by the table, watching the cake and stealing a strawberry since the orgasm had awakened a certain sweet tooth in you. You dipped the strawberry in cream and brought it to your lips, relaxing just a little after you heard the water run in the kitchen.

He was probably washing his hands.

You took you time licking up the cream, only to start chomping down on the incredibly large fruit right after. That’s when Hoseok appeared.

He was shirtless now, the garment dangling from his spindly fingers before he laid it neatly against the back of the couch. You stopped mid-bite.

“Oh, don’t let me interrupt your snack, go on, honey.” He licked his lips and gave you a steamy look before going to the table and pocketing the condoms left. “Is it good?” He asked, walking to stand right in front of you.

You felt slightly unnerved as he seemed completely indifferent to your naked body.

“Sit on the table,” he ordered

You frowned and hesitated.

At that, he let his hands hover over your hips. “Shall I help you with it?” He asked, giving you the chance to avoid his touch before laying his fingertips delicately on your skin. “Gimme a colour, Giggles.”

“Maybe yellow.” You bit your lip, insecurity getting the best of you.

He moved his hands to your face, suddenly turning comforting. “Quick tip, my pretty berry.” He caressed your face in a way that made you feel way too at ease. “If it’s a ‘maybe yellow’, then it’s a yellow. How can I help you, ____?”

Your real name made you come down to earth. You shook your head and looked away, Hoseok suddenly scared of having gone too far.

“I’m not comfortable with the way I let you control me, maybe.” Which was not entirely true. You were not comfortable with the way you craved his control after spending maybe four hours with him — including the afternoon he entered the vet studio with Mickey in his arms and a hopeless, lost look on his face.

“It’s all up to you, ____. I know it’s a cliché thing to say, but the answer is really within yourself. I can’t make you more comfortable with how you feel,” he said, still not even considering your nakedness in front of him.

In such a moment his indifference was welcome.

You looked down, your hands disappearing into your hair. Maybe this was the only night you were granted. Did you really want it to end already?

He did not touch you as you mulled over every option.

“I’m… I’m not— We’re technically strangers, I shouldn’t be trusting you like this, you shouldn’t be trusting me like this either, I mean this is all so— all so twisted and wicked and fast and—”

Hoseok was ready for reality to slap him across the face. He was ready for your regrets and you walking to your dress on the floor and cursing your messed up panties which you most definitely could not wear to go back home. He was ready for you to call what you did a mistake and say that there was no way for a woman like you to be with a man like him.

“My mind tells me I shouldn’t, but I want it so much.”

He lifted his eyes from the floor, finally finding the courage to meet yours.

“I’m sorry, that’s not true. I’m comfortable with the way you control me.” Slowly you took a step back, your ass meeting the surface of the table. “I’m just questioning what that means to me.”

He nodded. It explained a lot about your innocent, greedy approach to sex. You were exploring and you had found something you didn’t expect to even remotely consider.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head and sat on the table. “No, Sir.”

His eyebrows shot up before he regained his composure. “Colour.”

You allowed yourself to stare at his chest. He was so well-built. Harmonious. He looked like a painting. “Green. Very deep, dark green. Sir.”

He took a step closer. “Green?”

“Forest green. As green as a clover.” You felt his hand on your belly, dragging against your skin all the way to your throat, pushing you down as you lowered yourself on your elbows.

“If you feel uncomfortable emotionally or mentally speaking, you call a yellow. Please, promise me you’ll be very careful about it, Giggles. I care about your mindspace. It means everything to me.”

“I promise, Sir.”

He removed his hand from your throat and placed it against your cheek, placing a chaste kiss on your lips once he bent over you. “You’re talking to Hoseok right now, ____. Promise me you’ll keep an eye on how your mind’s doing. Promise it.”

You kissed him back, closing your eyes once his tongue caressed and molded against yours. Breathless, you parted from him. “I promise, Hobi.”

“I don’t want you to regret anything about tonight. It would break my heart, okay?”

Your eyes widened in surprise before you nodded. “I’ll take care. I promise.”

“Good girl. Now stay right there, lovely. Look what I got for you.” He found the cake, placed carefully away from your laying body. Skillfully, he dipped a strawberry in cream and brought it to your lips, dragging the tip of the fruit across them like lipstick.

He bent down and licked a fat stripe following the seam of your mouth, only to repeat the gesture once more; however, this time you let your tongue lash out and tangle up with his, the strawberry held away from you, trying not to catch it in your hair.

“Open up,” he commanded, pushing the treat past your lips, into your eager mouth. “Suck. Now.”

Your gaze became bubbly once more as you followed his lead, your cheeks sucked in at the pressure you were making with your mouth, the strawberry emerging completely clean from your mouth.

He smirked at the sigh, arching an eyebrow at the result. “You make it hard not to push my cock in your mouth.”

“Maybe that’s what I want you to do.” You raised an eyebrow right back at him, getting cocky.

“Not happening. I wanna hear that laugh again, Giggles.” Tentatively, he gave a small slap to your breast, surprising you and making you arch your back, gasping in pleasure. Your legs tightened around him, trying to clench your thighs shut at the feeling of arousal slipping out of your hole and sliding down to your behind. “And don’t you dare be a brat to me. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir.” Your voice was squeaky once you managed to reply.

“Did you like it, Giggles?”

The treacherous sound escaped your mouth once more as you nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, Sir.”

You wondered if you would ever get tired at the reply. You doubted it very highly.

“Let’s see if you like this too,” he mused before pouring more champagne in a glass and dipping the strawberry in the wine. He fixed his stance between your legs. “Remember our safewords?”

You confirmed before he lifted the strawberry and let a droplet fall right in the middle of your chest, splashing heavy and wet on your skin. Cold too.

“I’m going to make you my dessert, my pretty strawberry. Remember? Strawberries go well with champagne, lovely.”

He let one more drop fall to your breast, your breath stopping completely at the coldness, Hoseok’s eyes amused at the sight of your nipple awakening and hardening, lengthening even. It became impossibly rosier as another drop fell.

It felt stupid not to repeat the same treatment to your other nipple, which responded twice as quickly now that arousal was abundantly flowing through every single inch of you.

The strawberry drew a neat line of champagne pearls from your belly, which you sucked in at the cold, all the way up to your neck — a line that Hoseok followed with his mouth, letting his tongue stretch out of the way whenever a droplet rolled out of place.

He let the strawberry fall into the glass, extracting the condoms from his pocket and placing them on the table before taking off the rest of his clothes. He tugged at himself a couple times, getting hard enough to wear a condom.

His hands were going to get dirty, therefore he had no other options than getting ready very quickly.

“Giggles?”

“Yes? I mean, yes, Sir?” You corrected yourself in a millisecond, not wanting to risk another delay in your pleasure.

“I’m going to get really dirty now, lovely. Would you be okay with showering here?”

You let your lashes flutter a few times before nodding.

He gave a curt nod in reply before wearing protection and letting his cock rub against your crotch. His body stretched over yours, his thumb collecting a dollop of cream and dividing it with his other thumb. You observed his movements attentively as his clean fingers laid against the side of your breasts and his thumbs landed on your nipples.

Your mouth opened silently once the sensation flowed in, his digits starting a rolling motion over your peaks, playing them in small circles that innocently reminded you of a joystick.

“Colour.”

“So, so green. Can I have a blue for mind blowing good.” You tried to pick your head up, letting it thud back down once his cock dragged perfectly against your clit, eliciting a purr from your throat and a groan from his, his sex perfectly sandwiched between your and his belly.

“Blue— I�� ” He talked in small babbles and hiccups. “I get what you— ah— what you mean.” His forehead met your collarbone.

He found unspeakable strength and managed to rise from your breasts, collecting half a handful of cream spreading it over his entire palms and fingers like lotion before grabbing your breasts and kneading them, his hands dwarfing them entirely.

“Sir, please, I need your cock,” you found yourself ridiculously begging, ready to hump anything that met your core.

“Slip it in for me, Giggles.”

The moment he got inside, you didn’t even try to keep it down, riding him no matter the difficult position or the awkward angle. You let your hands scratch down his chest and grip his arms — and he allowed you.

You were getting more and more unhinged and he wanted to see every little detail, every little second, every single step that brought you to bliss and ruination, giggling like you’d never been half as ecstatic in your life. His hands slipped and groped your gentle curves, his mind growing hazier by the second.

All his control came back once he noticed your legs leaving the ground, as you scooted back just by a few inches, your calves latching behind his back before you shook your head.

“What?” He asked, bending his arms to get closer to you.

“Position. It’s…” The soles of your feet met the edge of the table, your hands securing your legs in position before you felt your hips hurt.

“Bend them to your shoulders,” he suggested, helping you fix your knees with his elbows. “Good. Can you touch yourself for me, Giggles.”

You obeyed without even replying, feeling him groan as the new position allowed him to reach deeper and rub your g-spot in the process.

That’s when the squealing started. And then there it was, pleasure. Right before you.

“Give me all the giggles, my sweet berry,” he cooed, nodding and smiling once the soft laugh started.

He let himself grow wild, his fingers sliding to your neck, gripping it gently before he led them against your chin and into your mouth, bathing your tongue in cream — or rather, what was left of it.

The other hand secured your waist, using it for leverage as he rammed into you, pushing his cock in your cunt, constricting it after the muscles remained tense after the orgasm.

This time he came inside you, still covered in latex, but inside you.

He was too fucked out to think of how you would feel without a condom, too fucked out to care that he was pressing his mouth — fuck, his entire face — against your dirty chest, getting his hair sticky with cream, his cheeks and chin and nose and eyes and forehead… His mouth welcomed the sweetness, sucking at your skin before his tongue came out to lap at the sugary mess. He was too lost to care, sinking deep and staying perfectly still as he enjoyed every second of his high inside your most intimate place.

You came to your senses just in time to watch him process the situation he was in.

“Oh, hell.” He rose from the table, standing up, looking at you, at his hands, running the back of them against his cheeks before shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter.” He settled down again, your legs wrapping around him.

“Are you okay?” You asked him, rubbing your palm against his spine.

He hummed in confirmation. “Are you?”

“Yeah.” You mussed up the hair at his nape.

He licked up your nipple, catching it with his lips and suctioning it into his mouth.

You closed your eyes and enjoyed the cuddles. From the exhaustion radiating from his body and the overall disaster you both were, you knew your night was over.

“Can I go clean up please? It’s getting chilly.” You asked, using the excuse to get some space to yourself.

He stood slowly, slipping out of you attentively. He took off the condom, completely lost in his silence, knotted it up and kept it carefully between his fingers as he slipped on his underwear. “Let me show you the bathroom.”

Once he showed you the way, you let him understand you didn’t want him to shower with you.

Feeling the scent of his body wash cover your skin was painful now. You tried to indent the name in your mind and hoped it wasn’t too expensive. Once you managed to exit the shower stall, you dabbed your body dry, realising too late that you hadn’t brought your dress with you.

You wrapped the towel around you and opened the door, walking out once you were sure you wouldn’t drip over the floor.

“Hoseok?” You called.

Once you reached the living room, you found your dress, slipping it on and realising a second too late that your panties had disappeared.

“Giggles?” Hoseok appeared from the corridor, still shirtless, with a pair of bermuda on.

“Uhm… I should… Go, I guess?” You said, staring at the floor awkwardly. “I…”

Hoseok felt fear grip him once he thought this could be the last time he would see you.

“Wait. I—” He stretched his hand toward you. “I think— Uhm, underwear. Since I messed up yours.” He rubbed his nape. “I could wash your… panties and return them to you… Next Friday?” He looked up at you with a sheepish smile. “Over fried chicken and a chill dress code?”

Your cheeks shot up as you felt yourself smile. “So this is not a one time thing?”

“Absolutely not.”

You nodded, increasingly convinced.

You gingerly wore his boxers, noticing they were relatively comfortable on you, the cotton breezy and light, definitely soft over your abused skin. “Then I’ll return these on Friday. Over fried chicken and chill dress code. And maybe my peach frilly undies?”

“It’s a deal then, Giggles.”

“Deal.”

#jung hoseok x reader #hoseok x yn #hoseok smut #jhope smut #thetruthuntoldnet #houseofddaeng #bangtansorciere #thebtswritersclub

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sneezefiction · 5 years ago

Text

meet the family

Tsukishima x Reader - Scenario

request: “hii gracie🥺 i've kinda been obsessed with ur stuff recently and just wanted to a scenario with tsuki having a s/o (fem reader but idrc honestly) who has really protective brothers and has to like try and "earn" their respect idkkk but yea im totaallyyy not requesting this cause i have really protective brothers.... :/ anyways again i love ir stuff hope u have a good day:) -🕊”

a/n: ahhh i enjoyed writing this so much !! it really helped me tap into Tsukki’s personality a bit more. thank you so much for the request <3

warnings: anxiety, low self-esteem

wc: 1050

---

“They’re gonna hate me.”

“No, they won’t.”

“They’ll think I’m lame.” He counters.

“But you’re not.”

“How long do we have to stay for?”

“It’s just dinner, Tsukki, you’ll be fine.” Your reassuring voice helping calm his nerves, even if just by a little bit.

The questions and statements are scattered throughout the length of the car ride. Tsukki’s fingers lightly drumming on his thigh. Trickling down the window, the tapping of gentle raindrops doing their best to soothe the passengers inside. You delicately place your free hand onto his, the other carefully gripped around the steering wheel.

You glance over.

He cleaned up so nicely for tonight, knowing how important it was for him to meet your family. You helped him pick up a pair of skinny, dark jeans and a dressier top. The colors in the shirt made his beautiful, honey-brown eyes pop.

And you love those eyes… but right now they’re anxious.

It took many months of dating and several brutally honest, late-night conversations, but you eventually learned just how severely Tsukki struggles with self-confidence.

Your heart sinks, knowing the internal dialogue going on inside him. The one that’s at war with his more logical side. Tsukishima has learned how to stand up against the darker demons, but that doesn’t mean he’s not ferociously battling to find his worth.

However, tonight is especially rough because there’s one tiny detail he can’t seem to get over.

Your brothers.

From how you described them, he was pretty sure they’d want nothing to do with him. That he’d be regarded as a piece of trash, in need of throwing out.

Because Tsukishima isn’t exactly a sweet guy.

He’s also not fazed by others disliking him. He already dislikes himself enough as it is. So confidence doesn’t affect how he lives his day to day life… but it definitely affects how close he is willing to get to a person.

In all honesty, Tsukki showcases his worst traits so that only those who really want to be near him, will stick around in the end.

But somehow, even with his rudest comments and his standoffish demeanor, you gravitated toward him. You made it clear that this wasn’t a short term interest. You aren’t some shooting star, acting as a wish giver, getting his hopes up only to sail right past him.

He doesn’t deserve you.

He’s sure your brothers will realize this and make it known to you.

But, for now, you actually want him.

And you make him feel wanted.

So here he is, one year into the relationship, mentally preparing for his demise. All for you.

You pull up in the bumpy, gravel driveway, your palm still warming up the top of his hand. Car doors click open and shoes crunch around on the pebbly ground.

You make your way up the steps of your old, familiar home, a heavy wave of nostalgia washing over you.

Tsukki follows right up, meeting you at your side and gently grasps a couple of your fingers. It’s his way of saying, “I’ll be okay.” You let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding in.

A couple knocks on the door and you’re welcomed swiftly by warm, enthusiastic faces. Your two brothers bring you into a group hug of sorts as you reconnect for the first time many months.

Their gazes then wander over to Tsukishima, eyes looking up and down, sizing him up, identifying their sister’s first longterm boyfriend.

Tsukki holds his stoic face for a moment and then lets a friendly smile shine through. He has perfected the art of squashing his nerves in front of normal human eyes. Only you can tell he’s grappling with his mind in this moment.

“Boys, meet Tsukishima. Tsukishima these are my brothers!” You introduce calmly, signaling your brothers to greet him with the same energy they gave you.

“Hey, Tsukishima, how goes it?” One of the two speaks up.

“Nice to meet you both. It’s going fine, the drive was really pleasant.” Tsukki responds cordially.

“Oh, I’m sure it was. Both of you come on inside.” The other replies, leading you indoors.

You make yourself at home, kicking off shoes and hanging up your jacket.

You turn around only to realize that your boyfriend is suddenly missing along with the other two boys.

Poor fella, I hope they don’t do anything strange, you hope to yourself.

---

Ah, of course. Confrontation, my favorite, Tsukki mentally remarks. Apparently, even under stress, he still manages to drip in sarcasm.

Your brothers have quietly pulled him aside in the short time you took your eyes off him.

Oh, what he would give to be back at home, lying down and listening to music with your arms wrapped around him.

But the thought is short-lived. He’s eye to eye with your family and needs to take whatever shit he needs to take to get through tonight.

“Look,” The taller one of your brothers starts, “clearly y/n likes you a lot.”

Not exactly the most intimidating way to start an interrogation, Tsukki muses.

“And we want her to be happy…” continues the other.

Tsukki nods slowly, waiting for the “but.”

“So are you willing to do that for us?” They finish, one of them setting a firm, trusting hand on his shoulder.

“Because we want to like you, but first we have to like how you treat our y/n.”

Tsukishima’s eyes widen only by a fraction, but he’s sincerely confused. He was expecting something… tougher? Scarier? Hell, he’d anticipated being roughed up at least a little bit.

But it was nothing like what he’d imagined. It was short and to the point. They just needed to know that he would be there for you, since they can’t always be by your side, fending of your enemies and fears.

Their question isn’t a difficult one to answer.

He wants what’s best for you because he loves you. He would do anything to make sure you were secure and cherished.

The words come easily to Tsukishima’s lips.

“...Yes. You can trust me with y/n.” Tsukki nods thoughtfully.

“I won’t ever hurt her or let anyone touch her.” He promises them. It’s simple, but honest.

He was overthinking it the entire time. Your brothers didn’t want him out of your life… they just wanted you protected. Safe and cared for. Treated with respect and integrity.

They don’t hate him.

They don’t think he’s lame.

But it’s definitely not “just dinner.”

No, this is just the beginning of Tsukishima’s proving himself to you. Proving himself to your family, that he can love you well.

That he can defend you.

Fight for you.

So he reconvenes with you for dinner with a newfound conviction, thanks to your brothers.

He now knows he has to be confident. Confident in himself and in his choices.

If not for him, at least for you.

446 notes · View notes

snarkwrites · 4 years ago

Text

ssw | juice ortiz ; when he can't go any deeper | m

Notes:

Okay so here's the thing.. This is a bit of a glimpse into the future / what if for a fic I'm about to start writing.. well, re-writing. Despite me knowing jack fuckall about strip clubs / exotic dancing / how to describe someone giving or getting a lapdance or pole work, I got the idea to have Hazel working two nights a week in a club, idk why.. Anyway.. The idea wouldn't leave me alone so here we are, loves.

Also.. I'm no longer just dipping my toes in the filth pool anymore. I went all in with this, oops rip. If anyone wants me to actually write the fic I have in mind for this... Pls.. I beg.. LMK.

Prompts:

taken from either [ HERE ] or [ HERE ] give or take. It could be one or the other or a mix of both at my own choosing.

kiss me up against the wall // moan my name as you come // when he can't go any deeper. - those were all the inspiration / prompts for this.

Fandom / Character:

Sons Of Anarchy / Juice Ortiz x Teller Morrow!OFC, Hazel

Fics Hazel can be found in:

None..Yet.

** the one I've used her in is being discontinued to do a rewrite.**

Warnings:

No minors, full stop. There is NSFW / adult content ahead. If you're underage, this was not meant for you -nor should you be reading this. If you choose to stick around after my warnings, this is strictly a you thing and it's not my problem or fault.

If you choose to go on and read this, these are the things present you need to be aware of: stripper!ofc - I admit.. I really am not too sure on how strip clubs operate, so.. if I'm wrong, sorry. lap dancing. thigh riding. body fluids tw. unprotected sex. That's pretty much it.

Tagging:

@brithedemonspawn

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@kyleoreillysknee

@sassymox

@twistnet

Other Stuff:

[ ABOUT MY WRITING | TAG LIST DOC - IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED, THAT IS. | FANDOMS I WRITE FOR]

I swear I wanted to melt into the floor when I happened to glance out in the crowd and see Juice Ortiz sitting in the back with his eyes glued to the stage. I froze where I stood behind the curtain peering out and for a good five seconds, I heavily contemplated just bolting out the back door of the club.

But if I did that, I’d be out of the killer tips I’ve been told I could get dancing at this place. I wouldn’t have an outlet to express myself freely, either.

,, I had to know this would happen sooner or later. Charming is a small town and the guys from Samcro do come to this club. Even taking the audition and showing up tonight was me, taking a huge risk… So I had to know this would’ve happened at some point if I actually get the gig.” the thought came and I took three deep breaths. The hope was that I’d center myself.

Spoiler alert… it did not happen.

But I did catch sight of a brunette wig. And I convinced myself that between the wig and the dim lighting and the fact that Juice was so far away from the front of the club where I’d be dancing on the stage, he wouldn’t figure it out.

I’d just finished putting on the wig when the club owner cleared his throat and nodded to the curtains in front of me. “You’re up, kid. Do this right and Tuesdays and Thursdays are yours. Fuck it up and you can forget ever getting a chance to try again.”

I scoffed at him for a second or two but he stared me down, humorless.

My favorite Motley Crue song began to play and I stepped through the curtain. Out onto the stage and just as I did, I happened to see that prick AJ Weston and the guy who bought one of the shops downtown making their way to the table right in front of me.

My stomach dropped.

Those cold and emotionless eyes locked on me and he smirked. Nodding to me and leaning in to the shop owner. His best buddy or whatever. I don’t try and keep up with whose pissed off my father day by day, so I didn’t exactly know names.

All I did know was that for whatever reason, my mother’s scared to death of AJ Weston. She thinks she hides it, but she doesn’t. And my mother is not a woman who scares easily.

Suddenly, my biggest worry wasn’t Juice sitting in the back of the club anymore. It was the prick sitting right in front of the stage. I strutted out on the stage, not bothering to make eye contact with AJ Weston, no matter how hard I could feel him staring at me, willing me to do so. I tore off the cropped leather jacket I wore over my favorite red lace bra and after twirling it in the air a time or two, I tossed it onto the stage, hitting the floor. Writhing. Arching my back and crawling around, whipping my hair around to the song playing. I kept away from the center of the stage because I did not want to lock eyes with AJ Weston. I literally had zero desire.

The crowd was starting to get into it. I started to feel that rush like I used to feel when I danced in Las Vegas. I completely forgot about AJ Weston, thankfully. And what started off as a bumpy dance got smoother. Even more so when I found myself searching the crowd. Finding Juice in the back and locking eyes with him. That seemed to cut out a lot of my nervousness.

My hands drifted down my body, and I caught myself pretending they weren’t my hands but Juice’s. Just the thought of him feeling me up, his hands pinning my hands over my head. Pressing into me. The way he’d feel strained against those baggy jeans when he bucked against me in the heat of the moment. I used my dirty mind to fuel the dance. Letting my hands wander down to the waistband of my leather pants, working them down.

The crowd was really getting vocal now. They usually do when the clothing starts to actually come off. My stomach fluttered nervously when I locked eyes with Juice in the back of the club and I actually saw the way what I was doing on stage was affecting him.

He sat up a little straighter in his seat. Spread his legs a little. Squirming around. He nursed a glass of whiskey and his eyes wandered up and down my body slowly. When I hit the floor and started to writhe around, my back arching and my ass up in the air, he bit his lip. Watching intently. Rubbing his chin in thought.

Out towards the front of the club, right in front of me, I heard AJ swearing. Laughing out loud. I wanted to strangle the asshole, especially when he really got started with all his stupid filthy commentary as if he were mocking me, as if he were somehow better than this place even though he was willingly sitting here, of his own volition… But I went back to blocking him out. Focusing all my attention on Juice all over again instead.

Imagining what I’d do if I truly had half the nerve. What I’d let him do to me if I weren’t so damn afraid of falling in love with a Samcro man.

Because if I were going to love one, I’d choose him. Hands down. If I were ever to settle, I’d want to settle with Juice Ortiz.

My song was nearing an end. My dance was slowing down. I made my way up the pole again, grinding it as I inched up it. Slowly. Seductively as I could... Eyes locked on Juice the entire time as I flipped myself upside down and started to wind around the pole, spinning slowly with my arm outstretched as the other arm gripped the pole to hold myself. And just before the official end of my song, I dropped to the ground, crawling away from the pole. Towards the front of the stage, bolder. Getting closer in the hopes I could at least get a little better look at Juice’s face because I was dying to see the expression on it right now.

I smirked in his direction and gave a teasing wink as I pulled myself off the floor and slunk towards the red velvet curtain separating the back of the club from the front.

“Stormy Knight, ladies and gentlemen. If anyone wants the VIP experience, find Vinnie.” the announcer called out over the rowdy crowd. I was just about to reach for the doorknob on the door that lead into the dressing room when a throat cleared behind me.

“Not bad, kid. If you can bring that every single Tuesday and Thursday, gigs yours.” the club owner was standing there, smirking. He almost looked like he felt bad for doubting me in the first place. He added casually, “Had three guys come to me about VIP dances. I usually leave all that to my girls to work out. That’s extra dough in your pocket, makes no difference to me. I know half of ya have extra mouths to feed.”

I eyed him, my mouth falling open.

“Three guys? Like.. altogether?”

“No, no.. Two were together. One was by himself. Belonged to one of the MCs. Just do me a favor and at least attempt to obey club rules, kid. Don’t go gettin knocked up on the clock.” the man laughed and I took a deep breath.

At best, I figured that the biker in question was probably one of the Mayans I’d seen sitting towards the middle of the club.

I was pretty damn sure I knew exactly who the two men were and after mulling it over because it seemed as if my new boss was awaiting a decision from me, I decided I wanted no part of the risk of having to give AJ Weston and his slimy friend a private show.

“I’ll take the biker tonight, man. I’m not feelin up to a three way.”

The owner nodded and mused thoughtfully, “Good idea, kid.. That one guy out of the two of ‘em looked like his elevator didn’t go all the way to the top floor. I’ll go get your biker and bring him back. You got room 3. That was Gina’s old room.” before walking away, disappearing out into the front of the club again.

“Please god… at least let it be the J.D Pardo look alike if it’s one of the Mayans.” I muttered to myself, not daring to get my hopes up that it’d be Juice.

A throat cleared from behind me. I nearly shit myself when I heard Tig Trager mumble with a laugh, “Okay Ortiz. Go get your girl.” before walking away. I did not dare turn around until I knew Tig was long gone.

“Stormy, huh? That’s one hell of a name, baby girl.” he mused aloud.

I turned around slowly. Found myself body to body with him. He was staring down at me intently, licking his lips. Chuckling as he shook his head and leaned in a little closer to whisper, “Does daddy know you dance, Hazelynn? Because if he’d been here… Seen all that…” he fanned himself and gave me a teasing smirk.

My mouth dropped open.

“How? How’d you know?” I stammered out.

“I saw your car parked outside… Life pro tip, princess.. If you wanna keep this a secret, I’d suggest parking around back. Or catching a ride. Because your car? Kind of hard to forget.” Juice’s hand settled on my hip and he pulled me just a little closer. His eyes dipped down, settling on my lips, a quiet groan coming when his intent stare made me lick my lips and fidget a little.. Melting against him a little before I could stop myself from doing it. Giving a sheepish laugh as I glanced up at him.

“Your secret’s safe with me. Relax.” he chuckled. He must have felt how tense my body was as I pressed against him. I let out a shaky breath. Parts of me wanted to ask the logical question, if he came here a lot, but also, at the same time parts of me definitely didn’t want to know. Those parts of me knew that if I did ask and he said he did, I’d get just a little jealous. Because it already happened whenever I’d see him at the bar and he’d have Croweaters flocking to him.

“Guess I owe you a VIP.” I teased gently, nodding towards the door with the gold star and the black number 3 painted on it. I reached down, grabbing hold of his hand, starting to lead him in the direction of the room.

“If you don’t wanna do this…” Juice frowned slightly and acted like he was going to walk away, but I stopped him. Made him look at me.

“It’s fine. It’s part of the job.” I gave him a reassuring smile as I opened the door to the room, stepping inside. Letting him step inside.

He closed the door behind him and we found ourselves body to body all over again. He muttered quietly, “Confession… I saw that Weston asshole and his idiot friend talking to the owner about a VIP dance with you so I went over and offered more money.”

Between the goofy little shit eating grin he gave me as he said it and the fact that he did that because he knows the guy creeps me right the fuck out, I was blown away. Before I could stop myself, I rose to tiptoe, gently pressing my lips against the corner of his mouth. “You’re an actual angel come to Earth, sir. You have definitely earned that dance.” I muttered softly as I pulled back to look up at him.

He bit his lip and my eyes followed the movement helplessly.

If I thought I was making myself wet on stage with my own dirty imagination, it was nothing compared to how wet I got when I locked eyes with him and realized that he was fully aware that I’d been staring at his mouth like a proper idiot.

I stepped close to him again and placed my palm on the front of his cutte, gently shoving him so that he settled in the chair right behind him.

Right away, his hands went to my hips. I lowered my hands, pushing his hands back down as I shook my head. “No touching. Club rules, Juice.”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, sorry.” he gave an awkward laugh and I giggled softly. Sinking down into his lap slowly.

Maybe I was slightly exaggerating out in the hallway when I told him I could do this and made it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. The second I settled in his lap and started to grind against it, I could feel myself dripping just a little more. I rose up slightly and he sucked in a breath. His knuckles went white with the way he was gripping the arms of the chair. His eyes were absolutely glued to me and I smirked. Teasing a little. Acting as if I’d take off the cropped leather jacket over my bra only to pull it back up.

The third time I did this, he growled quietly. Bucked himself against me. When I whimpered and grinded myself down harder against his lap, he muttered in a heated whisper, “You feel what you’re doing to me right now, baby girl?”

Oh. I felt it alright. The way he strained at his jeans, cock still twitching and growing harder and harder. The little friction I was allowing myself wasn’t enough. My cunt was throbbing and I was getting so wet that I was pretty sure when I finished giving him his lapdance the poor guy was going to have a wet spot on his jeans.

“Mhm.” I answered in a daze, leaning in so that my lips brushed against the shell of his ear and my tits rubbed right against him. He whimpered and bucked into me all over again and when I slipped out of his lap, he frowned. I hit my knees, parting his legs. Staring up at him from where I kneeled on the floor and he shifted in his seat, gripping the arms of the chair tighter when I started to rise up. Swaying my hips side to side. Leaning in. Rubbing against him as much as I could get away with. Oh, I was definitely using this little VIP dance he paid for as an excuse to do as much touching and teasing as I thought I could get away with.

All those urges to touch him I normally kept at bay were finally being allowed free reign and it felt so good.

I settled on his lap again. He let out a long and shaky breath and we locked eyes. He was staring at me like he wanted to ask me something or he wanted to say something but he wasn’t sure how.

“What’s up?” I asked quietly.

“Nothin, it’s nothin.” he said it quickly. Too quick. I gripped his cutte and pulled him in closer. My mouth inching dangerously close to his as I muttered against it, “Whatever you want to say, say it. Trust me. I can handle it.”

“Okay, you asked for it.” he muttered. After a second or two of staring at his lap, he looked up at me again and asked quietly, “Did you wanna dance for me?”

“I got the owner to come get you, didn’t I?” my heart was beating faster. I thought it’d jump right out of my chest. I did my best to play as cool and casual as I could but every single part of me wanted to tell him that dancing was not all I wanted to do for him.

“I know that… what I mean is.. Forget it.” he went quiet. Looked down again and I gripped his jaw, making him look up at my face. “Eyes up here, Ortiz.” I teased gently, my smile falling away when I saw the serious and somber look in his eyes. I scooted away a little, an attempt to give him some space. Settling myself over his thigh instead of fully positioned on his lap as I had been.

“Talk to me.” the words left my mouth in a whimper as I pressed myself right against his thigh, rocking my throbbing sex back and forth over it. Getting wetter and wetter with each second that passed. And the ache. Oh god, the ache. I was on the brink of frustrated tears. And I couldn’t break down, I couldn’t act anything less than totally professional, because this was my night job and I was on the clock but God.. did I ever want to.

He spread his legs wider and took a deep breath. Trying not to touch me, but I could tell with the way he kept raising his hands only to put them back down on the arm rests of the velvet covered chair he sat in that he wanted nothing more than to do that very thing.

And the thought of those hands on me had me flooded in a split second. If there was any doubt before that I’d leave a wet spot behind on his jeans at the end of this dance, there wasn’t going to be by the time it was over.

Anticipation and desire had my stomach coiled tightly. I wanted, more than anything, to be able to pick up with this back home… Behind closed doors. Just him and I.

But I knew that tonight was most likely just going to be an awkward little secret. Kept between two friends. And it bothered me, because I wanted so much more than that but I was afraid to cross lines and let myself have that… I doubted it was even an option anyway because I just didn’t think Juice even saw me like that.

Sure, we flirted now and then, but nothing ever came of it.

God, did I want it to.

This heavy tension seemed to settle in all around us and I picked up on it. Juice groaned quietly, and after he nearly broke the no touch rule again and very nearly reached out to grab hold of my ass and rock me against his thigh faster, I leaned in.. Pressed against him as I continued to grind against his leg and muttered against his ear, “Most guys put their arms behind their head… Til they’re used to not being allowed to touch.. They get verbal too…” my words hitching in my throat, rushing out over each other breathlessly.

He raised his hands, locking them behind his head. Sprawling back against the chair. It seemed to help ease the tension built in his body too, because I felt him sort of melting into the chair a little and I smiled.

“C’mon.. Tell me what you want me to do.” I coaxed, fixing my eyes on him and biting my lip when I immediately found myself getting sucked far too deep into his gaze.

“Touch yourself.” he muttered. Raising up a little. Leaning forward. “Touch yourself for me, baby girl… Like you were when you were dancin out front.”

I let my hands wander.

They were shaking slightly and I just hoped to God that it wasn’t noticed.

Juice took a few shaky breaths and bucked a little in the seat. “Come closer.. Get on my lap.”

I moved so that I was straddling his lap and the way his cock strained against his jeans and I tried to stop myself, but as I started to rock myself back and forth over it, I whimpered quietly. My breath caught in my throat a time or two and my heart was beating so fast I thought it was going to beat out of my chest.

“I normally don’t buy dances if I come here.” he muttered quietly, shattering through my own current internal struggle.

Knowing this relaxed me a little. It was obvious he didn’t just going off the way he acted, but.. I still wondered. Some guys like to pretend it’s their first lap dance because it gets them going.

I’m not here to judge anyone.

I mean.. I have a good paying day job as a legal assistant and here I am.. Dancing two nights a week whenever I can find a club to take me just so I have some form of release.. Just so I can feel intimacy that for whatever reason, I tend to deny myself in reality.

I almost asked him why, but I remembered what he told me out in the hallway about outbidding AJ because he knew the guy scared me. And I stopped myself, even though parts of me hoped there was more to it than that.

My hands moved over my chest and I rocked myself over him faster. My breath catching in my throat as I felt myself rushing straight into an orgasm I’d been trying like hell to hold back the whole time we’d been in the VIP room.

I could feel my body burning up under his gaze and he leaned in again. Muttered breathlessly against my ear, “If you’re nervous..”

“It’s fine.” I pretended to brush it off. I acted as chill about doing this for him as I possibly could.

“Turn away.. I wanna watch you movin from behind, baby girl.” he muttered. The request caught me by surprise a little, but I kind of realized that he was doing it more for me than for himself.

I did what he asked, turning in his lap so that I faced away. My eyes caught his in the reflection of the mirrored wall in front of us. As I started to rock my ass over his bulge, he growled quietly. Bucking himself up into me. Biting his lip as he did it three more times. Muttered in a lust filled daze “Fuck yeah, baby girl.. Work that ass.”

Just the way he said it had me dripping all over again.

“Faster.” he panted, bucking himself up into me all over again. Harder.

I tried not to, but I found myself imagining that he was taking me from behind. A fist full of my hair and my tits pressed right against the mirrored wall in front of us. And I rocked myself back and forth over his cock, pressing down even harder. Moving even faster. Almost close to a blinding orgasm.

“Fuck.” I swore quietly.

Juice sat up in the chair. Pressing his chest into my back. Muttering against my ear, “ Did you wanna dance for me like this?”

“Juice, I told you already.” my head fell back and my eyes fluttered open and shut. I squeezed my tits and rolled my hips faster. My breath came in short pants because I was so close to an orgasm that I was throbbing. He was leaning in again to whisper. “What I mean is if this wasn’t your job.. And it was just me and you… Would you wanna..” he rocked himself against me all over again. Harder. With more urgency as he swore under his breath and muttered that if I kept it up, he was going to come all over himself.

“ Turn around facin me.” he panted, his lips brushing against my ear and sending a shiver rushing through me. I turned back around in his lap to face him. Raising up a little. Teasing him by putting my tits at level with his mouth. Squeezing them together before lowering my hand. Toying with the waistband of my leather pants. Teasing him like I’d take them off.

“ Tease.” he pouted up at me.

“ That’s kind of what you’re paying me for right now, Juice.” I gave a soft laugh as I tucked a finger beneath his chin. Pulling his mouth dangerously close to mine. He licked his lips in anticipation and when he did, his tongue brushed right against my mouth. I whimpered helplessly.

And I just barely kept myself from exploding.

“You’re tensin up on me, Haze… Somethin wrong?” Juice asked quietly.

Looking at me as if he were bracing himself for something bad to be said.

By this point, I was so caught up in the moment, in the way it felt to grind myself against his cock and get out all these long denied urges to touch him to my hearts content.. It slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it.

“Honestly? I’m a breath away from coming and this never.. Ever… happens to me when I’m givin a private dance.” my words came in a breathless rush and as soon as I realized what I’d just said, I lost my groove for a second or two. Slowing down. Trying to pull myself together.

Hoping to God that I didn’t just make things awkward for him and I in the future because I’d rather have him as a friend than not have him at all.

His mouth opened and closed and his hands gripped the arm rests again. Tighter.

“Do you know how hard it is for me? Feelin you dancin on my cock like this? Knowin I.. Knowin that this is probably as close as I’m ever gonna get? Fuck… If I were ever lucky enough to have you all to myself, baby girl...”

His words caught me by surprise. My heart fluttered a little and I swallowed hard. Going still in his lap just to stare at him.

The lights getting brighter and the music in the room going quiet had both of us jumping apart. I realized that probably meant my time in the room was done and before I could give myself a chance to back out, I slipped off his lap and held out my hand to him.

“ C’mon.”

He eyed my hand and took hold of it, standing. I practically drug him out of the room and then down the hall. Out the door and into the back lot behind the club. Once the door was shut behind us, I started to pace in front of him. Just trying to put it all together.

Torn between continuing to fight what I felt for him and caving in.

When he stepped in front of me and placed his hands on my upper arms, staring down into my eyes intently, something in me snapped and before I could stop myself, I had his back pressed against the door of the building. My hands caught his, holding them over his head as I rose up slightly and crashed my mouth against his mouth.

Devouring. Hungry.

At first, he didn’t really react. But when the shock cleared and he realized what I was doing, he came alive. I melted against him and he growled into my mouth, deepening the kiss. Teeth latching onto my bottom lip and tugging until I felt it starting to bruise. I let his hands go and they were all over me. Settling on my ass. Rocking me up against him and making me whimper and dig my fingers into his shoulders. I couldn’t melt into him any more if I tried. I was so exhausted from trying to hold back in more ways than one at this point that my filter was totally shot. I rocked myself against him clumsily, a begging and needy whine filling the space between our mouths as the kiss broke when I just couldn’t hold it back.

“Do you know why I almost got off giving you a lap dance? Do you know what you do to me, Juice? I.. I tried so hard not to fall for you and yet.. Here I am.”

He blinked in shock. For a few seconds we stared at each other, panting for our next breath. Neither of us saying a word.

Then he bent and scooped me up. Started to carry me towards the end of the alley where he’d parked his Dyna Glide.

I didn’t do or say anything to try to stop him. I didn’t want to.

I’m so tired of keeping him at arms length. I’m tired of fighting the way I feel.

He sat me on the back of his bike and I grabbed hold of the front of his vest, pulling him down. Pulling his mouth down against mine all over again because I just.. I was needy. I craved him on this level I couldn’t even begin to get my head around.

His bike came to a stop in front of his apartment building and he got off. Scooping me up all over again. Stopping just outside the doors leading into the building to grope and kiss me. Letting his lips stray down the side of my neck. Sucking a mark deep into my skin. I clung to him and begged breathlessly, “Juice, please..”

Neither of us was really stopping to think. I didn’t want to.

I wanted him.

More importantly, I wanted to be with him. And tonight just proved to me that I couldn’t fight it anymore.

The whole time he was trying to unlock his apartment door, he kept fumbling with the keys. Rutting right against me. Stopping to kiss or touch me. When he finally got it unlocked, he stepped through the door and stepped over to the couch. Tossing me down onto it gently. Following close behind. Pressing himself down into me and snapping his hips against mine, making me whimper. My whimper echoing off the walls of the quiet room. I reached down between us, tugging at the hem of his white t shirt and he rose up, pulling off his vest and tossing it at a chair nearby. Then pulling his shirt off and tossing it too. It settled on the floor in front of the chair. Then he was pulling me up. Tearing my bra away and tossing it out into the room. My hands lowered, tugging at the waistband of his jeans and he bit his lip. Gazing at me for a second or two with this look of lust and adoration in his eyes. Savoring the moment and what was about to happen.

Because it’s been building for a while, apparently. I just focused so damn hard on keeping myself from caving in and letting myself have what I wanted, with him, that somehow, I missed all the signs.

“Baby, c’mon.” I begged.

The term of endearment slipped out.

He gave me that little smirk. Rubbed his chin in thought as he let his eyes wander.

He worked his way down my body, using his body to part my legs. He worked my leather pants down my legs and I kicked them free at my ankles.

His fingers caught in the thin strap of my panties and they came away with a quiet tear. I tried to get him out of his pants again and he lowered my hands. Slipping off the sofa. I watched intently as he teased me, pouting about it. Begging.

I needed him buried inside me. Fucking me. Slow. Deep. All night long.

His pants fell to his ankles and he kicked off his boots and then kicked his pants free from his legs. When he dropped his boxers, I swallowed hard as my eyes settled on the way his cock stood at attention once it was free from fabric. He was pressing himself down into me all over again.

His mouth roaming over my tits. Tongue teasing my nipples as my back arched away from the sofa and I rocked myself against him. His free hand settled between us, circling his thick cock. Teasing it between my folds and making me shiver and cling to him. Try to rock myself against him urgently.

And then he buried his cock inside me. Shallow at first. Going still to let me adjust to him. I felt like I was being split in two and the feeling had me whining. Nipping at his chest, at any patch of skin I could get my mouth on just so I could muffle the way I wanted to scream his name at the top of my lungs.

I rocked into him clumsily and he growled quietly. His hands going down to my hips. Holding them still as he started to pound me harder. Deeper. So deep he couldn’t go any deeper. When he bottomed out, I dragged my nails down his back.

“Not yet, baby girl. C’mon, hold out just a little longer for me.” Juice coaxed breathlessly as his hips crashed against me with a bruising pace. I begged for release, on the verge of tears. The more I begged, the more he’d slow down. Stop to kiss me or leave marks on me. Torture.

Slow, steady and deep torture.

“You gonna moan my name when you cum?” he questioned, slamming his cock deep into my womb. Going still and capturing my mouth in a deep and passionate kiss. “ God. You’re so.” he panted, snapping his hips against mine, cock pistoning in and out of me with steady deep thrusts, “So fuckin wet I can barely stay in. Fuck. Shit. Shiiiit, baby girl. I wanna cum so bad.”

“Juice! Ah, -ah fuck. Right there.” my back arched away from the couch and my orgasm ripped through me, leaving me weak and dazed, clinging to him as I tried desperately to keep up with his pace, spent. Dripping. My walls vising his cock and clenched around it. Tears flooding my eyes because holy fuck, all I’ve wanted for the entire time was to finally be allowed to let go.

Juice stared down at me from above, a soft gaze. He caught a tear as it made a black trail down my cheek. Chuckling quietly. Going still to pepper kisses soft against my mouth and then trail them down the front of my throat. When he started to move again, he muttered against my lips softly, “It’s okay, baby girl. I got you. I’m right here.” as he pistoned in and out, the wet sloshing sounds accompanying each thrust he made seeming to make him move just a little faster. His hands were all over me and all I could really do was lie there, pinned beneath him. Whimpering his name as I tried to come down from the high. Stare up at him softly as my mind spun, replaying every single thing that led us here, to this exact moment.

“Oh fuck. Fuck baby girl. You want it?” his hips stammered, smashing against mine in a bruising pace and his words were swallowed by another hungry kiss and I nodded. Just when I thought he couldn’t get any deeper, he did. Striking against my throbbing g-spot a time or two and growling, biting. Locking his lips against my neck and sucking yet another big,deep mark into soft flesh. The warmth of his release flooded me, making me whimper. Overfilling me, because I could feel the excess slowly leak down. Puddle beneath me on the sofa.. I bucked my hips against him greedily trying to take it all because I wanted it. I needed it. I craved him so badly I couldn’t have put it to words if I tried. He leaned into me heavily, panting for his next breath. Spent. A fine sheen of sweat gathered on our bodies. I grabbed hold of his face and pulled his mouth against mine. Our foreheads pressed together and he muttered quietly, “Mine?”

“Yours.” it shocked me when the word bubbled out. It shocked me because a, I was saying it and b, I meant it. With everything in me. As soon as I said it, he gave me a soft and lazy grin. Pressing his lips to my forehead. He collapsed onto the couch settling behind me. Pulling me on top of him.

Quiet little soft kisses. Caressing my face as he stared up at me and caught sight of one of the bigger marks he left on my throat, grimacing as he chuckled about it quietly.

“Fuck me. Baby, that was amazing...” I groaned out in a daze, making him laugh and gaze up at me. “Give me an hour, babe.” he teased…

“Careful. I might take you up on that.” I teased back, melting against his body. Letting his arms wrap around me and hold me tight.

#juice ortiz #juice ortiz fanfiction #juice ortiz imagine #juice ortiz oneshot #juice ortiz imagines #juice ortiz fanfic #juice ortiz one shot #juice ortiz sm*t #my writing ; juice ortiz #my fanfiction ; juice ortiz #my fanfics ; juice ortiz #// absolutely no one (0) under 18+ allowed. Minors DNI.#// ns*w content #// s*xual content #// body fluids tw #// unprotected s*x tw

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justatiredghost · 4 years ago

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Living for the Moment Ch19

A series of glimpses at Klaus’ life if he’d met Dave in his mid 20s. His life isn’t magically transformed, love can’t fix either of them when they’re both homeless and in a bad place. They’re not even really ready for a relationship yet. But maybe a supportive friendship can set them on a better path, the two of them inspiring each other to take care of themselves. It’s going to be a long and bumpy ride, and the question is, when will they actually admit to themselves that they have feelings for each other? Read More AO3

The problem with coming to a sudden stop after burning himself up the way Klaus had been lately was the loss of adrenaline. That had really been the only thing keeping him going. Well, that and the drugs. Thankfully he still had some of those in his system so the ghosts were leaving him alone, because the inevitable crash wiped him out completely. He didn’t have the strength to keep his eyes open anymore let alone enough to hunt down another contact to resupply.

There were a lot of things Dave had said that he wanted to comment on, mostly to ask what was wrong with him, but he just couldn’t right now. None of this felt real. He’d never had someone so determined to stay in his life, and all he could do was wonder how long until he came to his senses. But that was a problem for future him. As most things were. Right now, Klaus just wanted to sleep.

Not that he got much before they were both jolted awake by a car backfiring. The early commuters were likely out, so they had to leave, but Klaus felt so much worse than he had before. The exhaustion, the aches and pains, the ugly bruise welling up on the side of his face where he’d been punched, and to top it all off, he was pretty sure he had a fever.

“Hey, you okay?” Dave asked when he noticed, and of course he had to be all sweet, rubbing his back and everything.

“Oh yeah, sure, all good here,” Klaus said, trying to suppress a violent shiver at the early morning wind icy cold now that Dave wasn’t pressed up against his side.

“Shit, I didn’t give you my cold, did I?”

“What can I say? Petty theft is one of my charms,” Klaus joked, because he didn’t like how worried he looked.

“I wish I could repay the favor and find a place for you to warm up and sleep it off, but— hang on, I have an idea. Come with me?”

Dave stood and offered his hand, and Klaus considered it. He thought about trying to ditch him again, or just refusing to move. But he was too tired to be stubborn and petty, so he decided it would be easier just to go along and he let himself get pulled to his feet.

Usually, Klaus would be more nosey about this, but when Dave left him outside the shitty motel, he just stood there and waited while he went inside to talk with someone. He surprised himself, honestly. He must be really bad off. At least Dave didn’t keep him waiting long.

“Wow, you really do look like shit,” Dave said when he returned, actually able to get a good look at him now that the early morning sun was starting to make its appearance.

“Still hot though, right?” Klaus said.

“Mmm, feverish and attractive,” Dave joked. “You might be overdoing it a little, might want to tone it down a bit.”

“Have you met me?” Klaus replied.

“Well,” Dave continued, unlocking one of the motel room doors on the first floor. “The good news is, a buddy here owes me a favor. She said we can have this room, but gotta be out of here by tomorrow evening.”

“She is a saint,” Klaus said, stumbling inside after him. “I am going to take a 6 hour long bath, so if you need to pee, you better do it now.”

“No, go ahead,” Dave laughed. “I’m actually going to step out for a bit. I have some other stuff I need to take care of. But I look forward to seeing what you look like all pruny.”

Klaus waved him off with an annoyed sound. He turned on the water as hot as it would go and was ready to soak up all that warmth and wash away the grime. By the time he finally climbed out of the bath, he didn’t feel so frozen. Sure, he still felt like shit, but it was better than nothing.

For once, Klaus slept like a rock, so he wasn’t all that surprised when he came to, desperate for a glass of water, to discover Dave was asleep in the other bed by the door. On the way back from the bathroom with a cup, he had the sudden impulse to crawl into Dave’s bed and join him, but tried to block that out and just go back to sleep.

The next time he woke up, it was to hear the shower running. Dave was no longer in the other bed. A midnight shower wasn’t all that strange, though, so he let himself fall back to sleep. But when he woke up again a little over an hour later and the shower was still going, Dave still missing, he started to get a little worried.

Well, more curious than worried. Yes, this definitely wasn’t worry. These types of places weren’t really known for having unlimited hot water and he actually wondered if Dave had been the one to ditch him this time. Curiosity getting the better of him, he stumbled out of bed, pausing at the bathroom door to knock.

“Dave? You alive in there?” he called, but didn’t get a response. “I’m coming in. I swear I’m not doing this just to check you out naked.”

As he slowly opened the door, he noticed that there wasn’t as much steam as he thought there would be. The mirror wasn’t even fogged up. When he turned to the tub, the curtain was pulled back just enough that he could see Dave sitting there, letting the water fall over him, still wearing boxers and a t-shirt. His arms were raised as if to protect his head, fingers digging into his hair.

“Dave,” Klaus called again, concerned now.

Dave flinched as soon as he spotted him, but at least he relaxed when he realized it was just Klaus. Then, he scrambled to turn the water off before sitting back, out of breath and just trying to regain his bearings.

“Hi,” Dave said guiltily. Then, he looked down at himself and sighed heavily, picking at the way his shirt stuck to him uncomfortably. “Aw, man. We have got to stop meeting like this.”

“Would it help if I also got in with my clothes on?” Klaus offered.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Dave sighed, not completely able to stop himself from smiling despite everything.

“Your loss,” Klaus said with a shrug. “I’m not exactly one to judge, I was in here for a criminally long time earlier, but typically I don’t think showers are supposed to last very long. I’m surprised you haven’t run out of hot water.”

“Ah,” Dave said, looking away. “I think I may have, actually.”

“May have what?”

“Run out of hot water,” Dave said, and as if to prove his point, a particularly violent shiver ran through him.

“What the hell?” Klaus said. “You should probably get out of there. Only one of us is allowed to be sick at a time, and I already called dibs.”

He passed Dave a towel as he clambered out of the tub. Then, he left him so he could have a little privacy to change while Klaus wandered around the room in search of any extra blankets stashed away. Dave was already back in his bed when he returned, so he unceremoniously dropped his spoils on top of him before selecting one to unravel sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I swear I don’t take all my showers clothed,” Dave said, forcing a chuckle as he followed suit, no doubt trying to lighten the mood.

“Hey, whatever does it for you,” Klaus shrugged, and Dave smacked him playfully with one of the folded blankets.

“I really am sorry about all this,” Dave groaned after they finished with their work, burrowing deeper into the pile of blankets, still shivering.

“What, hogging all the blankets? I guess I can forgive you.”

“Well, yeah, I guess there’s that now, too,” Dave chuckled. “But I more meant, just, all of this-- my little breakdown. It doesn’t happen as often as it used to, but I still get flashbacks and nightmares sometimes. Showers help, they can kinda ground me I guess, this one was just particularly bad, I guess.”

“Oh,” Klaus said dumbly, not really sure what to do with all that openness. Except run, but he’d already tried that and failed.

This all hit a little too close to home; the nightmares and the flashbacks, the whispered confessions in a moment of vulnerability. In Klaus’ experience, it never went well. He knew Dave was just like this, so much more open than Klaus could ever imagine being, but it still sent a chill through him.

As irrational as it was, he didn’t want Dave to learn the same way he had. At least Klaus didn’t have any plans to betray him, so he might as well encourage him to let it all out now.

“Do you, like, what to talk about it or something?” he said uncertainly. “I heard it’s supposed to help. I mean, I know that’s rich, coming from me of all people.”

“It’s nothing, it’s stupid,” Dave said quickly, waving a hand dismissively. “You’ll laugh at me.”

“Okay, well, now you have to tell me,” Klaus said, climbing onto the bed so he was laying on his stomach, leaning on his elbows, head in his hands.

“I, uh, went to talk to someone today,” Dave said slowly. “About getting support. For vets.”

“That’s good, right?” Klaus said, trying to be encouraging.

“I guess,” he said, eyes sliding to the side, avoiding Klaus’ gaze. “It’s just frustrating, it feels like admitting defeat. But I can’t even hold down a job, something’s gotta change.”

“That’s the spirit?” Klaus said uncertainly. It wasn’t like self-improvement was his specialty. But he could definitely understand the guilt that went with asking for help. Which is why he never did.

“Unfortunately, it’s bringing up a few too many memories. And, when I’m stressed, I have nightmares, so that doesn’t help,” Dave added lamely, trying to laugh a little.

“There, there,” Klaus said, sitting up so he could reach out and pat his shoulder. Taken by surprise, Dave burst out laughing and Klaus couldn’t help but grin, pleased he could still make him laugh, even when he was upset. “If it helps, wearing clothes in the shower is nowhere near the top 10 weirdest things I’ve found people doing in the bathroom,” Klaus said unhelpfully.

“Still,” Dave said, before changing the subject. “But enough about me, how are you feeling? Sorry again for giving you my cold.”

“I might learn to forgive you one day,” Klaus said dramatically, hand on his forehead.

“Hey,” Dave said. “I was thinking, and I realized that I just kinda made you come with me here, sorry about that, too.”

“Yes,” Klaus said, again playing it up. “How dare you force me to sleep in a proper bed for a change?”

“You know what I mean,” Dave said with a weak smile. But then his voice turned serious. “I know I was probably a bit too much before, probably creepy too, tracking you down like that. I just want you to know that, if you really don’t want to be here, I’d understand.”

“What’s the matter, starting to have second thoughts?” Klaus asked. “I am a handful. Being friends with me is gonna be a nightmare”

“Seriously,” Dave persisted. “How about we meet up in a few days and talk it out? I’ll have at least a few more answers once the VA get back to me. I know everything feels impossible right now, but being your friend is worth it, to me. But if all of this has put you off, then feel free to make a break for it. I’ll leave you alone.”

“Sure,” Klaus said distractedly.

Dave nodded and turned away, pulling the blankets up nearly over his head.

Klaus had never been told he was worth it before. He’s never been worth anything and he didn’t know how to feel about all of this. He thought he could feel something melting in his core, a warmth reaching him that he never expected to feel. But there was guilt, too. So much guilt.

How was this even happening? Dave was a pretty smart guy, but he just seemed to be ignoring all the warning signs. Maybe Klaus had tricked him into this somehow. He was very good at manipulating people. But, for some reason, Dave kept coming back, there was no denying that. He wanted to trust him, to believe in Dave even if he couldn’t believe in himself, but he knew how dangerous that was.

Klaus felt cold, again, when he went back to his own bed, moving automatically. Mostly he just felt numb, completely drained. And he was more lost than ever. Maybe he was just too sober, maybe drugs would wipe it all away and remind him who he was. Or, maybe it wouldn’t, and he’d wake up one day and hate himself, wondering what would have been.

Hating himself wasn’t anything new, but when he glanced over his shoulder to see Dave’s curly hair sticking out between blanket and pillow, he so desperately wanted to give hope a try.

#klaus hargreeves #dave katz #klave #klaus x dave #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #fanfic #living for the moment #my fic

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rina-writes · 5 years ago

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Calm Waters (Part 3)

Part 2: x

Summary: Now that Grayson knows the truth, all he wants is to set you free. When you resist, he settles for giving you the teenage life you deserve to experience. However, Ethan is not sure if that works for him.

Warning: Mentions of abuse, and captivity, but balanced with a lot of fluff

Grayson’s eyes widened. There were so many things to process. The night before he arrived to confront you about the whole...”mermaid” thing, he wondered what would happen if he was completely wrong. Your humor was pretty close to his, but even you would find this a little wacko. He imagined back-tracking his statements and coming up with some lie about it being a prank or a challenge that everyone was doing. You didn’t have social media, so you couldn’t reasonably doubt him.

Despite it being the outcome where he was actually right Grayson wasn’t mentally prepared for this result. He supposed in his fantasy, he thought you react throwing your arms around him like he was your knight in shining armor, begging him to save you. Instead, there you sat, calmly as though he was telling you about his morning coffee before politely telling him to mind his own business.

“What? No!” Grayson argued, his voice getting loud and angry.

“Shh, the dolphins.” You shushed him and Grayson through his hands up in frustration.

“Forget the dolphins, Rory!” Grayson yelled. “This is about YOU! You can’t really want me to just sit by and let this happen to you.”

Grayson pointed at your tank, his face hard and angry as he stared at you. “This is inhumane, for you and THEM.” He pointed at the dolphins tank when he said, ‘them’. “I’m can’t work here knowing they are keeping a teenage girl locked a freaking tank.”

“Then quit.” You said, your voice coming out stronger than you expected. “You can do that, Grayson. You can walk away from all of this.”

“It’s not that simple...” Grayson said, shaking his head. “I...”

“You what?” You challenged him. “You love me? Don’t make me laugh. You don’t even know me.”

You rubbed your temple and sighed. “Like I get it. I saved you from a near death experience and I have pretty skin and look like a mythical creature..., so it seems like the stars aligned or whatever, but you still don’t know me! You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into...”

You were surprised at the bitterness of your own voice. It didn’t reflect how you really felt. You were happy that Grayson saw the truth and that he wanted to save you. You imagined for years that someone would see your broken heart and get you out of this hell. You realized you were pushing him away because you were scared of what could happen to him. While his nativity was adorable and charming, it was going to lead him into harm’s way when combined with your situation. This was probably the exact fear your mother had when she met your father and, not to be a Negative Nancy, but look where that ended up.

You slowly stood up and looked down at him. This is what you needed to do, push him away. If he hated you all the better. At least he would be safe.

“Don’t you get it?” You asked him, shaking your head. “Pete is not just one person. There are thousands and millions of Petes around the world who would not hesitate to put me in a lab, chop me up into pieces, or strap my dead body to their boat. This is a battle, not the war, Grayson. At least here, I know my enemies... So, thank you, but no thank you.”

If you were honest, Grayson looked very scary when he was angry. With his jaw set and his eyes wide, it made you want to take back everything you said. At the same time, you could tell he was controlling himself. He wasn’t going to yell and sure as hell wasn’t going to strike you. Years of being tossed around and beaten has taught you how to spy an evil person from a mile away, and Grayson Dolan was not that person.

“Aurora...” He said, softly. He rested his hands on his knees as he steadied his breathing. “You’re right, I didn’t get it. Sure, I maybe the type of guy who falls for the first pretty girl he sees, but I’m also the kind of person who can judge someone’s character. I really do like you. I want to get to know and I want you to be apart of my life. To be honest, even if I didn’t like you, I would still want you out of here. No one deserves this.”

Grayson stared at the tank. From the roof, you could only see the top, and it looked like the two on either side of it. It made his blood boil. He could see Pete’s face, with his thick mustache and large, almost a little too straight teeth. Grayson thought he was a nice guy, but now he sees that he’s a monster.

Grayson looked up at you. You will still standing in front of him, your hands balled into fists.

“If busting you out isn’t an option...what else can I do?” Grayson asked. “Anything that I can do to make a little less hell for you, I want to do it.”

Your eyes softened and slowly crouched back down to meet Grayson’s eyes level. You glanced down as you thought about a compromise. You smiled softly and said,

“Well, now that you know my secret...I wouldn’t mind getting vegan food.”

Grayson’s eyes widened. “Wait....are you saying you want to sneak out?”

“Just for the night!” You said, quickly, not wanting him to misunderstand. “Someone checks the tank right at closing to make sure I’m in, but no one comes until morning at the earliest. I would have to come in my uniform soaking wet, but it could work.”

Grayson knew that this compromise wasn’t easy for you. Although you were smiling at him as you spoke, he saw your hand trembling on top of your knee. He placed his hand on top of yours.

“Then I’ll make sure you get a vegan burger so good that it makes it all worth it.” Grayson smiled.

You grinned as you stood up, giving him a hand to help him stand as well. “Come on, my shift is about to start.”

“Alright, let me wake Ethan.” Grayson said, walking over to his twin. “Hey E! Come meet, Aurora!”

Ethan pretended to be asleep as Grayson shook him awake violently. In reality, Ethan had heard everything. Grayson may be okay with you just escaping for a night, but Ethan knew you needed more. He wasn’t going to stop at getting you out, he was going to close Pete’s Ocean Land for good.

Grayson was itching to get home all day. He needed to plan for his date. If he and Ethan’s research was correct, it had been a long time since you had been outside, let alone, on a proper date. Unlike most dates where he had to focus on what he was going to wear and what you were going to do, he had to also consider where you could go that wouldn’t make you run into Pete or anyone from work. Additionally, he couldn’t expect you to go on a date in your soaking wet uniform. As far as he was concerned, you were human and he knew you had pride in yourself. Sure, it had been smothered into almost nothing by your sadistic uncle, but Grayson knew it was still there.

He ran into the house and straight up the stairs to his older sister’s room. They were only two years apart in age, and Grayson was almost as close to her as he was Ethan. Cameron was home from college for a couple weeks and was connecting with a few friends from high school. She was always the friend that people came to for advice and so, he knew she was the right person for this job. He knock-opened her door to see his sister Cameron on the phone with one of her friends as she sat on her bed.

Without even as much as a hello, Grayson immediately went into his request. “Cam, I have a date in like two hours and I need to get her an outfit!”

Cameron’s soft, light brown eyes narrowed. She swiped a dirty blonde strand of hair from her eyes as she muttered into her phone, “Let me call you back.”

She turned to her brother. “What on Earth? When did you become a sugar daddy?”

Grayson let out a half-chuckle. “I’m not!” He insisted. “She’s just going through a rough time and I know she’s just going to come straight from work. She doesn’t have a lot of stuff...but I want her to feel special today.”

“Well, if she doesn’t have a lot, then let me at least give her a makeover.” Cameron bit her lip. Like her brothers, she also had a soft spot for people in need. “No sense getting her dolled up if she’s all sweaty from work.”

“Cam, you’re the best!!” Grayson insisted. “Uh do I need to get anything...”

“We’ll get to all of that later,” Cameron patted the spot next to her on the bed. “First, tell me about her.”

Grayson smile as he sat down next to his sister and gushed about the girl who was stealing his heart.

Your head slowly emerged from the water through the little crack. You hadn’t attempted this since you and Grayson “met.” Your hands dragged itself across the concrete, the bumpiness scratching your palms. You pulled yourself until you were out of the water, the task much more difficult when you had a smaller space to maneuver.

You paused as you looked at the view. You never realized how clearly you could see the stars from where you stood. Your heart swelled from being overwhelmed. It was strange how something you took for granted when you were young could be so moving to you now. You stood there for a moment, watching the tail lights of the cars as the drove along the highway. You gazed at the houses, zoning in on the ones with their lights on. You wondered if anyone else was also preparing for their first date.

Without the sun, you didn’t know the time. All you knew was that you had to move quickly. Grayson was going to meet you at the back door of the performance arena. Apparently, this was how most people snuck in and out during the night. It didn’t work so well in the morning because of a nosy neighbor who would snitch to Pete about trespassers, so you would need the cover of night to return back to your cell.

You did your best to move quickly, but you also couldn’t really see. You fumbled, trying to dry yourself as best as you could while slipping on your uniform. You decided to skip the cap, and just shake your hair out. You wish you could see yourself, but you reminded yourself that you didn’t look much different than you usually did. Part of you was disappointed that you couldn’t get dolled up. At the same time, this was your first time out of the park in five years. You couldn’t get yourself down on the little things.

As you walked past the dolphin tank to sneak down the steps, your chest tightened. While the other aquatic creatures lulled themselves to sleep, you had the chance to roam freely. You realized you could never leave Pete’s if it meant also leaving them behind. You shook the thought from your mind. You were coming back. You were allowed to have a little fun.

You ran to the gate and gripped the black bars tightly. Your squinted to see, realizing that it was easier “to see” in the dark when you were surrounded by water. Large warm hands wrapping on yours almost made you yelp, until you saw Grayson’s kind, hazel eyes.

“Hey you...” Grayson whispered, making your heart pound.

His voice was so deep and inviting. You had to run through the list of reasons in your mind why you weren’t running away with him at this very moment.

“Hey...” You whispered back.

“Come...” Grayson gestured for you to follow him to a gap in the fence.

You scoffed internally. The gap in your tank, the gap in the fence, the lax security guards...for someone keeping an illegal creature in his park, Pete sure was poor with his security. As you were crawling through the space, that’s when it hit you. Of course. No one would suspect that dumb Pete that gets the wool pulled over his eyes by a bunch of neighborhood kids could be hiding something. If anything the only person who could expose Pete was you, but he had beaten the fear into you so deeply that despite having this knowledge, you would never exercise it. It was the ultimate and one of the oldest forms of control.

Feeling Grayson’s arms wrap around you tightly pulled you from your thoughts and to the present. You took in his scent, which was slightly different today. He smelled like a dessert baked with brown sugar and vanilla. You could tell he was wearing a button down shirt and dress slacks from the buttons pressing into your chest and the smoothness of the material brushing against your bare legs.

“Sorry,” You pulled away. “I don’t want to get you all wet.”

“It’s alright,” Grayson beamed, taking your hand and pulling back toward him. “I have a surprise for that. Come on.”

You and Grayson held hands, ducking low to stay in the shadows of buildings and trees until you got to Grayson’s car two blocks away. Everything looked so new to you, yet familiar at the same time. Cars had changed since you last roamed around and there were a lot less satellites on roofs from when you were a kid. However, most things like manicured lawns, the bluish white light from tv screens flashing from windows, and the sounds of dogs barking at pedestrians walking by transported you back to a “before time” that almost felt like a dream.

As you squeezed Grayson’s hand, you realized this was the dream. Your fingers interlaced with a handsome boy as you ran down the street. The wind was rustling through your now only semi wet hair, and you felt so free.

“You look beautiful when you smile...” Grayson said, looking back at you.

Your eyebrows went up in surprise as you let out a little giggle. You didn’t even realize you were smiling.

Grayson led you to his car which was a black sedan, that to Grayson clearly looked secondhand, but to you looked like a pretty nice car. He opened the door of the passenger side to escort you in before jogging over to the driver’s door. He leaned over to put on your seat belt, but you shook your head.

“I remember this much.” You grinned as you pulled the seat belt and buckled yourself in.

“Sorry,” Grayson murmured embarrassed, as he put on his own seat belt and started the car. “I guess I’m a little protective of you.”

“You don’t have to...” You reminded him.

“I want to.” He retorted with a smile. “First stop, my place so you can meet my sister.”

At those words, Grayson pulled off. Your eyes widened and you turned to him in shock.

“How many people did you tell about me, Grayson?” You asked.

“Relax...” Grayson comforted, glancing at you before turning back to the road. “I didn’t tell her anything. She may think you’re homeless though. So, sorry about that.”

“Surprisingly, that’s actually better than the truth.” You said, slumping your shoulders. “What sister would want her brother to date someone that doesn’t even have clothes?”

“A sister that judges someone on their character and not their possessions.” Grayson suggested.

Grayson could see your sad expression from the corner of his eye. He reached out to tap your hand gently. Grayson hummed for a moment before explaining.

“Our parents have done a lot to make me, Cam and E happy. But, there were times we knew it was a lot of smoke and mirrors to make us look like the perfect family. My sister worked hard to get a full ride to college in order to pursue her dreams. Currently E and I working to get enough money to move to LA.”

Grayson smiled and squeezed your hand. “We’re not the kind of people to judge someone based on their circumstances, only what they have chosen to do with the resources provided to them.”

“You’re going to LA?” You asked, your mind shifting focus.

“That’s the plan.” Grayson said, with a shrug. “I’d change it for you, but I’d much rather you came with us.”

You frowned. “You can’t change your plans for me. You don’t even---”

“I know, I know. I don’t even know you” Grayson laughed, lacing his fingers between yours. He imitated you with a high pitch voice before switching to his normal voice to continue. “I don’t know you, but that’s going to change tonight. I want to learn every little thing about you.”

You smiled softly and squeezed his hand. Running away with Grayson to LA sounded magical. You wanted to pretend to entertain the idea, even if it was just for tonight.

The car stopped in front of a quaint, white house with two floors and maybe an attic. There was a two car garage, with a car parked outside. The porch had a few chairs and you could tell behind the house was a sizable back yard. It reminded you a bit of your childhood home.

“Welcome!” Grayson said, turning off the engine.

Grayson got out the car and once again came to the passenger side to help you out. You had already opened the door, but he insisted on taking your hand to help you stand. He held your hand to the door where he rang the bell.

You could hear footsteps thundering toward the door before it swung open. A young woman around your height with long dirty blonde hair, tanned skin and Grayson’s hazel eyes opened the door. She was wearing a tank top and pajama shorts, and somehow she made it look chic. You suddenly felt silly in your wrinkled, ill-fitting uniform.

“You must be Aurora.” She said, with a smile. “I’m Cameron.”

“Hi--” Before you could get a word in, she grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you from Grayson.

“Don’t come upstairs!” Cameron warned Grayson, before dragging you to her bedroom on the second floor.

Grayson chuckled softly and sat on the couch. He pulled out his phone and texted Ethan.

Where are you?

While Grayson spent the afternoon planning for his date with you, Ethan had other plans. After his shift at the bike shop, Ethan made a detour before going home. About three miles south of the bike shop was a tiny office for a local television network.. Ethan was going to see a friend of his, one of the network’s producer named Ryan Abe. Despite being closer to Travis’ age than Ethan’s, Ethan and Ryan had developed a friendship over the years. They often biked together and Ethan would pitch ideas to Ryan. Today, Ethan had an idea different from any other idea he had in the past.

“Ryan!” Ethan said, hopping off his bike and walking to the door. Ryan opened the door with a bright smile. While Ethan was used to see Ryan in tank tops, today he was wearing a white polo since he was the office. He put on loose fitting khaki pants to complete the look combining his casual style with his business persona. His blonde hair was styled and sleeked to the side, a sure sign that today was a rare day where Ryan was on camera.

“Hey, Ethan, come on in!” Ryan waved him in. Ethan lifted his bike and pulled it into the office. While it was setup for all five of the reporters and the two producers of the local television show, Ryan was the only one actually in there the whole time. Ethan left his bike up front and walked past the empty cubicles to Ryan’s corner office. He sat down on the chair in front of Ryan’s desk and let the cool air conditioned air chill the sweat on his face.

“What brings you here, man?” Ryan asked, sitting in his office chair, typing away on his computer. Ryan was a pretty good multitasker and it made Ethan feel better but coming over during Ryan’s working hours.

“I have an idea....but it’s a little crazy.” Ethan said, leaning forward slightly.

Ryan sighed. “For the last time, I am not going to produce a show on you and Grayson talking about being vegan.” Ryan rolled his eyes. “No one is going to watch you guys pull pranks on each other, talk about not eating dairy, and brag about working out for hours a day. It’s not quality content.”

“I disagree,” Ethan said, mildly annoyed that Ryan decided to take the opportunity to roast his last four television show ideas. “But, that’s not what I’m here for. I want to do an expose piece on Pete’s Ocean Land.”

“Wait, what?” Ryan asked, stuttering out a laugh. “Pete’s Ocean Land is like the Teletubbies...a little weird and creepy when you get older, but still the core of your childhood. Anyone trying to take down Pete would have to come with some hard evidence.”

“I don’t have anything yet.” Ethan bit his lip softly.

Ethan was lying for your sake. He couldn’t just offer you up as evidence that Pete was doing something wrong. Firstly, using you, even in the plot to save you, was no better than what Pete probably did to you on a daily basis. Secondly, based on your conversation with Grayson, you would not be willing to talk to a television station about your treatment as that would just broadcast your story to the entire world. Thirdly, if this resulted in you getting hurt, Ethan was sure Grayson would never truly forgive him.

“However, Gray has been working there and said he noticed something strange.” Ethan narrowed his eyes a bit for emphasis. “There’s this tank where they closed off the exhibit so you can’t get in it from down below, but you often see Pete himself staring at it from the roof. Only a handful of employees are allowed on the roof and only at certain times. The idea is that the tank is empty, but why on Earth would he just stare at it.”

Ryan tapped his chin. “I mean, Pete was a beach bum when he was younger. Wouldn’t be surprised if he’s taken in too much sun, crashed into too many waves or got hit with one too many coconuts and now just gazes at an empty tank.”

Ethan panicked inwardly. What details could he provide that would make this all seem interesting enough that Ryan would want to pursue it?

“Sure, okay.” Ethan agreed. “But let’s say my hunch is correct and it’s not an empty tank, but something that Pete shouldn’t have in captivity. Wouldn’t he show it off at some point?”

Ryan’s eyebrows went up in surprise. “Like to scientists or other enthusiasts?”

“Yeah...exactly!” Ethan said,a little too thrilled. He dialed back his enthusiasm. “Chances are there has to be someone or some people who know what’s in that tank, and he’s probably always looking for more.”

Ryan spun in his chair as he massaged his chin. “Hm, like some kind of underground show and tell.”

“Exactly!” Ethan agreed. “I’m getting pretty good at this research thing, and I’m pretty sure I can connect with people who would know if something fishy is going on.”

“I’m interested.” Ryan admitted. “Despite that very corny joke. Pull up a chair and sit down. I’ll give you three hours to make sell me on this.”

Ethan smiled brightly. This was a long shot, but he was hopeful.

Hanging with Ryan. Have fun on your date! ;)

Grayson smiled reading the text before continuing to fiddle with his phone. He was kind of hoping Ethan would get to see Aurora all dolled up. Hopefully, there were going to be plenty other opportunities to do that.

“You alright up there?” Grayson yelled from the couch.

He heard shuffling, and a murmur of a response, making him laugh. He was going to take that as a yes.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Cameron was tossing clothes on the bed and talking a mile a minute.

“I wasn’t sure what your size was so I didn’t want Grayson to go out and buy something.” Cameron explained. “I figure we look to be about the same size in most pieces and half of them are supposed to fit either extra fitted or oversized, so we can make something work.”

“You really don’t have to do this.” You argued for the fifth time.

You looked at yourself in her dresser mirror and you knew that was a lie. While water was good for your skin, chlorine wasn’t. Your skin looked dull, your red hair looked a bit more orange, and your uniform looked dingy. You couldn’t believe Grayson actually liked you.

“I want to.” Cameron said, making you look at her with surprise. She sounded just like Grayson. It seemed the Dolan siblings wanted to do a lot of things, especially things that put them out of their way.

Cameron handed you a pink sleeveless crop top and a pair of dark skinny jeans. On the bed, she laid out an off-white lace cardigan that would flow down to your ankles. For shoes, she gave you a choice of brown sandals that would go with your brown belt, or white sandals and the option to ditch the belt.

You turned around to change, and Cameron did the same so you were both back to back.

“You know,” Cameron said, her voice jumping a bit from nervousness. “I still don’t know much about you. Grayson, he was saying a whole bunch of stuff about you and I couldn’t catch a single word. But, he looked so happy. His eyes were sparkling. I never seen him like that before.”

You didn’t know what to say. Instead, you hopped up and down to pull on the jeans. They were obvious filled in to Cameron’s shape which was different to yours, but you were determined to make it work.

“You know...he’s kind of girl crazy.” Cameron laughed. “He had a crush on all of my friends at one point. However, he’s never talked about them the way he talks about you. I know he can be a bit clingy and overbearing, but give him a chance. He’s my baby brother and I just want him to be with someone that makes him happy.”

“Grayson is the nicest person I’ve ever met.” You blurted out turning around.

Cameron spun around as well. It was the loudest she heard you speak all night.

“He’s not only kind, but he’s funny and caring and understanding and the least judgmental person. He’s loyal and charming and smart in the most obscure and strangely specific things.”

You kept going and Cameron just stared at you with her eyebrows raised high. Without that baggy uniform, it was clear you had a gorgeous shape. Even with your hair frazzled beyond belief, it was clear that you were a beautiful girl that just needed some conditioner and a good skin care routine. But, what stunned Cameron the most was how you blossomed talking about Grayson. You were practically glowing as you spoke about him, and that made her adore you more. Now she got why Grayson was so determined to make this date special for you, because you were so different to every other girl he dated. You actually liked him for him. And as you continued to rattle of your favorite things about Grayson, she realized you were the first girl to not mention he was hot in her list of reasons for liking.

“...He is just the epitome of warmth. His personality, his hugs, his smile...it’s just so warm...” You continued.

Cameron put her hands on your shoulders. “Okay, that’s enough. Anymore compliments about my brother and I may just vom.” She laughed. “You’re perfect for each other.”

You blushed. “Sorry.” You bit your lip. “He’s the first person to see the real me.”

Cameron turned you toward her mirror and sat you down on the bed. Using on hand she started to gather your hair to make an updo. She smiled softly,

“Let’s help him see the real you on the outside too.” Cameron said.

You stood at the top of the stairs, your heart pounding. You pushed back on the makeup because you worried you wouldn’t be able to get it off when you went back in your cell. Now, you were reapplying the lipgloss that Cameron gifted you as a compromise.

“You look great.” Cameron whispered to you. Then in a loud voice she announced, “DUN DUN DUN...all rise for the beautiful, Aurora.”

She ran down the stairs to see Grayson standing up from the couch. She pushed him towards the stairs as you slowly walked down. You decided on the white sandals without a belt, once again thinking of how you would remove this outfit when you got back to the park. With your left hand on the banister and your right hand holding your uniform, you actually felt a bit like a princess.

Grayson’s jaw dropped as you walked down. It was amazing how much an outfit and a scrunchie could bring out the beauty in someone. When you finally reached the bottom of the stairs, Grayson stammered out his response.

“Pr-Be-St...” He couldn’t decide what he wanted to say. So, he said it all. “Pretty. Beautiful. Stunning. Wow, you look amazing, Rory.”

“You wear them better than I do.” Cameron smiled, folding her arms. “Keep ‘em.”

“No, Cameron...” You shook your head. “I could never.”

She put up a hand to stop me. “Call me Cam, and I insist!” She gave you a hug and you returned it tightly.

“And...” Cameron added. “I leave all the clothes I don’t wear much here in college. Feel free and ask this dork to bring you over some time to get some stuff. The style suits you.”

You were starting to tear up. How could one family be so nice to you? You looked at Grayson who was still staring at you in awe.

“Thank you, Cam.” You hugged her again and she laughed.

“Now, go! Go enjoy your date!” Cameron said, shooing you.

Grayson took your hand and led you outside, waving to Cameron. He glanced back to see both you and Cameron swiping tears from your eyes, both of you politely waiting until the other couldn’t see before showing your emotions.

Once again, Grayson open the door for you and waited until you were comfortable before going to his side. He started the car and took another look at you. There was nothing inherently different about how you looked. It was the fact that you looked like a regular girl that could have attended his high school that really wowed him. It made him angry that you were robbed of the normal life you deserved, but he was happy that he could give this to you, even for one night.

“So, first stop is Bart’s where they have the best...BEST vegan mexican food.” Grayson grinned, “Then, we are going to a special location.”

“Mysterious, huh?” You teased with a soft smile. “You better not be driving me across the border. I believe that would be kidnapping.”

“Can you kidnap someone who’s already kidnapped?” Grayson teased back.

“I’m pretty sure you can.” You laughed softly. You never thought you would be able to laugh at the fact that you were being held captive, but here you were chuckling about it. Grayson sure had a way of making any situation bearable.

At Bart’s, Grayson was greeted as a regular and he introduced you as his date. After a bit of banter with Bart himself, Grayson ordered a feast of fajita, enchiladas, burritos, nachos, and cake for dessert. With two large brown bags filled with food, you and Grayson packed the car and drove to your secret location.

You rolled down the window to feel the warm breeze on your face, closing your eyes. You could hear the soft music of Kid Cudi, an artist Grayson was introducing you to, playing the background. Your hand rested on top of Grayson’s and every now and then he would give your hand a little squeeze.

Your eyes shot open with the familiar smell of salt hit your nose. You could feel the hairs on your skin standing up and you looked at Grayson. He was smiling big and couldn’t stop glancing between you and the road ahead of him.

“No...” You whispered.

“Oh yeah, baby.” Grayson grinned even wider. “We’re having a picnic on the ocean.”

Grayson turned his car into the beach parking lot and parked near the entrance. You helped him gather your feast, resisting the desire to bounce on your toes with excitement. Your eyes were watering with happiness at the salt of the salt in the air and the sound of the waves crashing on the shore.

Grayson didn’t care to contain his enthusiasm. He started sprinting toward the ocean and you followed suit. You were both panting as you stopped on the sand to stare out at the water. The onyx-colored ocean was calm and seemed to endless when he met the deep plum colored sky. You could see the moon, bright and full, with the stars dusted it around it.

“Shall we eat?’ Grayson asked, already sitting down.

He had laid out a blanket and was using his backside to keep it from fluttering in the wind. He had also removed his shoes and was wiggling his toes in the sand. You smiled and removed your sandals, sighing at the cool sand sliding between your toes.

You sat down and Grayson scooted closer to you so your legs were touching. You two started to divide your feast, the sound of sustainable wrapping harmonizing with the ocean waves created a feeling of nostalgia for a new experience. The food in front of you was all food you remembered from your childhood, but it tasted like a dream. Grayson laughed as he handed you napkin to wipe your hands, even helping you to wipe sauce from your lips. He led the conversation as you murmured your responses with a full mouth.

“I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t still insane for me.” Grayson admitted, before crunching a nacho dipped in vegan cheese. “I mean, you’re like a mermaid right?”

“Not really....” You said, covering your mouth slightly. “I’m more like a frog than anything else.”

“A mermaid is definitely sexier.” Grayson said with a laugh.

“A frog is more accurate.” You argued with a grin. You reached for a chip and glanced at him. You dipped it in the cheese and then pointed the chip toward him.

“Am I dreaming?” Grayson asked, leaning in. “Getting fed by a real life mermaid...”

“Frog girl...” You corrected, putting in his between his lips.

“Don’t ruin it,” He said quickly before eating the chip.

You fed each other a few more chips, enjoying the comfortable silence developing between you. With full stomachs, you both laid back on the blanket and stared at the sky.

“I wish I could stay with you forever.” Grayson said, turning to look at you.

You didn’t say anything. Instead you just turned toward him and rubbed his cheek with your hand. You both stared at each other without saying a word. In one quick motion, Grayson leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

Your heart was slamming against your chest as you leaned into the kiss. His lips were a little dry, but soft and strong as he massaged them into yours. You weren’t sure if you were kissing back, but you enjoyed the feeling of the kiss and did everything you could to intensify it. His hand rested at the small of your back, sending a little shock of pleasure up your spine. You sighed softly and Grayson seized the opportunity to nibble on your lower lip. You did the same with his upper lip and that began your game of follow the leader.

You could have been kissing for seconds or days, it was hard to tell. At some point, you broke apart at the sound of your empty containers getting crushed under your shared weight.

Grayson laughed and gave you a final peck before cleaning up. You helped, your face still red and hot from your makeout.

“That was nice...” Grayson said, not looking up from the trash.

“Very nice...” You said, also not looking at him.

“Yeah?” Grayson asked, and you didn’t need to look at him to know there was a smile on his face.

“Yeah.” You confirmed, smiling at the ground.

Grayson stood up and took he bags of garbage to the nearest trash can. You stood up as well and started to walk to the ocean. You craved to feel the water sliding between your toes, so you indulged yourself.

Tears stung your eyes the moment you felt wet sand. Found childhood memories of night swims with your mother flooded your mind. You continued walking until your ankles were immersed. You leaned down to roll up your pants legs, not wanting to get the precious clothes that Cameron gave you wet.

When you stood back up, strong arms wrapped around your waist. Grayson pressed soft kisses on your shoulder and your neck. You put more of your weight on him as your hands rested on top of his. You looked down to see his feet on either side of yours, the turquoise colored patches on your feet brightening and fading as your skin got wet and then dried over and over again.

“Thank you...” You whispered.

“Anything for you.” Grayson said, in a soft, deep voice.

In his arms, you felt the most safe you had felt in your entire life. As much as you wanted this to last forever, you knew it was coming to an end very soon. You just didn’t realize that what was waiting for you tomorrow was another visit from the “scientists” and a round of experiments.

A/N: This part was getting too long, but I think there is a nice balance of drama and fluff.

#dolan twins #dolan twins blurb #grayson dolan blurb #grayson dolan #grayson dolan scenario #grayson dolan imagine #dolan twins scenario #dolan twins imagine #fic-cw #r-writes-fic

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halfusek · 5 years ago

Text

Still Life (Batim Portal AU)

Chapter One – “An old man walks into an abandoned studio” sounds like a beginning of a bad joke. It is.

Summary: We here at Joey Drew Studios are very, very happy to inform you about a special upcoming event. What shall the event be? Now that’s a surprise, but we can promise plenty of old faces, reunions, party and some real entertainment. And cake!

First chapter: [you’re here]

Next chapter: [coming soon]

✪ ✪ ✪

The taxi driver kept looking at him in the rear view.

And not like looking looking. Not with a bored nor curious peeks every now and then, no, no.

Cautiously glaring. Interested but suspicious.

Weird. Sure, the destination was rather special but here’s the thing. A special destination in a small not-so-special town that’s been there for a very long time? Nothing special about that.

The animation studio surely used to wake some sensation thirty years back (alongside many complaints) but these days… it shouldn’t be anything more than a part of the local ecosystem. It even “grew out” a bit on the outskirts. Never integrated to the rest of the place, as if the streets tried to reach there before but, like roots hitting a stone, changed their directions to literally anywhere else.

To be fair, he too did hit that rock.

Being outside of the cab, Henry Stein took a deep breath of fresh air. Don’t get it wrong, the location was nice. All this nature around.

Still. Anywhere else.

He was glad to have gotten out. The atmosphere started to lay heavily on his shoulders. Even the lack of usual small-talk was off-putting and he wasn’t the most talkative person!

Something clicked and his attention snapped back to the vehicle he just exited. It was the trunk. Seems like the other man won’t be that kind to help him with the suitcase. Not that he would ever demand such a thing but maybe he’s gotten a bit used to it. Especially nowadays, with so many years on his back.

Besides, he knew it wasn’t an act of unkindness.

The driver didn’t want to get out, Henry figured while paying him through the window.

Huh.

“I’m sorry, am I misunderstanding something or did the price for the ride go up compared to what it was before?” he furrowed his eyebrows. It’s been years but he remembered the road from the town’s center to here well. Oh, very well, “It’s as if… the price has doubled?”

The driver had an unlit cigarette in his mouth. He was moving it around with his mouth. Probably wanted to lit it for a while now.

“No, the price’s the same. I already counted for your way back.”

“Ah,” Henry smiled politely, “But you see, I don’t know when I’ll need to get back, so-“

“When I finish my Pall Mall, that’s when,” there was a slight impatient growl behind his voice, “Look, pal, I don’t know what you’re expecting to find there, but this gold ore has been mined to death. You are going to kiss that beautiful door handle goodbye and wait for me to finish my smoke.”

Old animator stared at him, flabbergasted.

Then he stood straight with the polite smile back on his face.

“And I thought I couldn’t believe I’m really going to be back there. Still, I do have a very believable invitation and therefore my request to pay for just one ride stands.”

Loud sigh, shuffle of papers, flicker of a lighter, and Henry, followed by the sound of his suitcase’s wheels, was on his way to the building.

Meanwhile, the man in the cab kept followed him with his eyes, turning away only to let the smoke out of his car.

Had it not been the money, he would have already left the place. But gas had its costs and he didn’t want to waste it on turning around when this crazy old man finally realizes there’s nothing grand there waiting for him and calls for a ride back. Calls him that is, as he was the only ride around here.

Knocking ashes from his cigarette, he looked around. It really was a wild place. Abandoned. The town hall wasn’t even bothering to keep the road in a good condition. It was getting a bit bumpy but not like anyone would care anyway.

Then his gaze went back to the traveler, or more precisely, it landed on the parking lot that the said traveler was walking across.

There weren’t any cars save for rusty few parked close to the entry to the workshop.

Weeds managed to crack through the concrete in many places. No one wiped off the leaves.

In years.

He turned the engine back on.

✪ ✪ ✪

Maybe it was because he was even older, but the old man didn’t seem bothered by those sights. To Henry, what mattered was how different the building looked like in the terms of its size. Just look at that thing! More floors, wings on both sides, surely there were some additions on the other side too.

His hand was on the handle. He took a deep breath.

Not out of fear nor worry.

Excitement. He was back.

Slightly chapped lips formed a big grin.

The driver’s jaw dropped and his cigarette quickly followed through.

✪ ✪ ✪

The door opened.

✪ ✪ ✪

Had Henry turned back, he would notice the terrified expression on the other man’s face. Maybe it would have changed something.

Who knows.

But in this story, Henry has entered Joey Drew Studios once again.

✪ ✪ ✪

What is he seeing? The actual surroundings? All the memories playing in his head that happened around them? Both past and present trying to fit in together in his sight?

What is he feeling? Is it nostalgia? Is it happiness? Is it anxiety? Some kind of blend?

Oh… so familiar and yet so different. He found himself looking with shiny eyes at every little detail he remembered, no matter if it was as important as the logo with wheels still turning around the exact same way they used to when he helped to install them, or if it was as mundane as skirting-boards. And then, such a weird thing, how intimidating the different things were. Again, simple changes, like the new chairs, or something popping the eye right away, like the prizes, the decorations, the reception, the-

And just like that the balance pan favored the side of what’s been making him uneasy.

No one was present at the reception.

Actually, there was nobody at all.

Henry wrinkled his nose and adjusted his glasses, turning around.

Surely someone had to be there. The electricity was on. The wheels were turning. The lights were on.

And the door wasn’t locked.

And the letter-

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper that looked… a bit less neat now that it spent a few hours under his butt.

But what it said remained just as clear.

DEAR MISTER STEIN,

WE HERE AT JOEY DREW STUDIOS ARE VERY, VERY HAPPY TO INFORM YOU ABOUT A SPECIAL UPCOMING EVENT. WHAT SHALL THE EVENT BE? NOW THAT’S A SURPRISE, BUT WE CAN PROMISE PLENTY OF OLD FACES, REUNIONS, PARTY AND SOME REAL ENTERTAINMENT. AND CAKE!

WE HAVE SOMETHING THAT THE WORLD OF ANIMATION REALLY NEEDS TO SEE AND WE WANT YOU TO BE A PART OF IT. BUT FIRST, WE NEED TO SHOW IT TO YOU. THE VETERANS! THE PIONEERS! THE ANIMATORS THAT BROUGHT TO LIFE THINGS WHICH STAGGERED THE IMAGINATION OF MILLIONS! IN FACT WE HAVE A LOT WE NEED TO SHOW YOU. IT’S ALL IN HERE, AT THE OLD WORKSHOP.

WE WOULD BE THRILLED TO BE GRACED WITH YOUR PRESENCE. TREMENDOUS FUN AWAITS!

JOEY DREW STUDIOS

And then addresses and all that stuff. He didn’t make it up. The building looking as if it was working wasn’t made up. None of it was made up!

Then… where were the people that sent him this letter?

He left the suitcase behind the reception’s desk. Just now he realized that he really was (was he?) alone – while he was rereading the invitation, the taxi driver finally took his leave.

Right. The taxi driver. His words. His… behavior…

Henry shook his head. No. Come on. You can’t make this up.

The old man took a few courageous steps towards the corridor. Again, full of new wonders just as of the old grind.

He stopped. There were words written at the end of the hall. In large letters.

In ink.

Blue eyes squinted to read them from this distance.

Oh, it was a banner.

Oh-

He beamed.

Suddenly his steps became a lot more energetic.

At the end of the banner’s message there was an arrow pointing to the right. He followed it.

It read: Surprise this way.

Of course. Ominous but, goddamnit, that was it. It had this energy.

His energy.

He hurried through the next corridor. There were balloons on the sides. Arrows pointing at a door at the very end.

What people are going to be there too? Oh, he would love to see Norman again. Or Sammy, or Wally- actually, why has he not seen them all this time?

Another door handle. He opened them without a care in the world.

And there was no world behind those doors. Or, maybe, a completely new one.

As in – it was really dark in here.

To be honest, now, that he stood there, seemingly all alone, in front of pitch black darkness, he wasn’t feeling so brave no more.

Nonetheless, he took that step forward. He searched for switch.

And there was the light.

Not from the bulb.

There were candles around a circular symbol that he seemed to have stepped into-

All balloons popped. The noise altogether was like a loud crack.

And then it was dark again.

✪ ✪ ✪

His alarm was going off.

Henry groaned as he turned under the sheets. He felt really tired. Why was an alarm set anyway? He wasn’t getting anywhere, must have set that by accident.

His arm lazily reached out of the bed in search for that devilish device. Where is it, where is it…

It was hard to reach with his suit limiting his moves and his glasses knocked askew because of the pressure between his head and the pillow.

Wait-

He fell asleep in his glasses? And clothes?

His hand didn’t reach anything. There was a worrying sense of… nothing.

When you sleep at the same house for years and years without moving the furniture around too much, you get used to things being in their place.

And they weren’t.

Blue eyes snapped right open.

What he saw was a wide room with multiple beds. Each had a cabinet on the side and there were a few shelves with products that looked like medicine, screens, speakers.

There was a camera high up.

Oh, shit. He was at a hospital.

Wait, no.

He slowly got up, massaging one temple with his hand.

No, no, no.

This layout…

He sat on the bed.

…he was still in the studio.

Or rather… he was at the studio. He actually was there. Could have been a dream.

But no.

Finally, his attention went back to the sound of the alarm. It was coming out of a device that resembled a radio more than a clock. He took it into his hands and turned off. Strange technology but wasn’t too hard.

As he was putting it back, the speakers screeched, almost causing him to drop the darn thing.

Then he froze.

“Hello! Joey Drew here! Welcome to the Joey Drew Studios Infirmary! I hope your brief detention there was a pleasant one…”

No. No way.

“If you’re hearing this message, that means all the damage you may have been experienced has been noted/taken care of, and that we can continue on with the work. There’s sure a lot of it to do!”

Henry frantically looked around the room.

Was it some sort of a cruel joke?

“However, before we get back to it, please, keep in mind, that although fun, those activities are your work, alright? And here, at Joey Drew Studios, we work hard. But happy, so to keep that spirit up do follow the guidelines and refrain from-“

The old man jumped in bed as the voice became incomprehensible.

“As always, thank you for participating. You are contributing to this wonderful bosom of creation we call art. Remember, dreams do come true! Now, let’s bring this thing to life!”

Minutes passed as Henry sat in silence after the end of what he realized was a prerecorded message.

He didn’t know what kind of person would make him listen to it but it had to be prerecorded.

Joey died fifteen years ago.

#bendy and the ink machine #batim fanfiction #batim portal au #henry stein #joey drew #halfart #halfwriting #halfpost #still life #long post #so i got inspired to write for this thing lets see where it goes lol

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blissfulparker · 6 years ago

Text

12 days of Christmas Day.2–T.H

Summary → tom plans on proposing to you on Christmas, although when toms been gone for months and left you with Harrison who started to let his feelings for you come back, 12 days of Christmas quickly becomes 12 days of tension

Warnings→smut

A/n→so this is a series, I guess I didn’t make that super clear. There is a plot and it’s leading up to the engagement and stuff like that! Thank you so much for the feedback and support, it means a lot and I love you guys so much💓💗🥺also once again sorry for the no read more link, I can’t find my charger for my laptop and I don’t know how to do it on mobile 🤧

It was early, the sun only starting to come up and melt the snow and start the day. It was always pretty in the morning. That’s what you told tom. The snow melting against the sunrise and melting at the sunset was gorgeous. The way it glistened and was just a little bit harder because it was trying to stick together so it wouldn’t melt. It was beautiful.

Although you had woken up to the sound of the T.V. And sink running in the living room. Haz was up, he was up and you weren’t exactly ready to see him after the encounter yesterday. Some people would call it dramatic but you...it was hard for you to not feel guilty for being so Oblivious someone else’s feelings. The strange part was, part of November he had a girlfriend, well...a hookup. More like a girl he took on dates and she took him home. You thought they were both lonely, looking for maybe a fuck and maybe something serious. Although she met you, Tom, Harry, tuwaine, then things ended. It was strange and you never questioned it.

You pulled out extra socks and a thicker hoodie. One that made you feel a lot warmer and one that made you feel closer to tom.

You turn off the lights to your mini Christmas tree you had in your room and look down at the presents already stocked there. Two big boxes and three little ones. You could tell whose was whose. Toms were the neat wrapped ones in snowflake Christmas paper. You loved wrapping presents so you could always make them look just like the movies. Toms were somewhat messy, same paper but very bumpy. It was always the actual gift that matter though not the skills of wrapping.

Your feet dragged you out into the living room. You see haz sitting on the couch watching some lousy Christmas movies and eating cereal. Netflix Christmas movies were always the ones to be made fun of, laugh at the story and how gross the love story was.

“Good morning.” You say in a sing song voice. You did it every morning and you thought maybe the best way to handle the situation was to ignore it. Ignore and move on because maybe he wanted to deal with his feelings without you there, maybe you trying to help would make it worse. The last thing you wanted to do was loose Harrison as a friend, the last thing you wanted was for Tom and Harrison to split up.

“Morning.” His voice was no different than it was any other morning so it was good, everything was okay.

“What time you go to bed last night?” You tried to keep a normal conversation as you pulled out some oatmeal for breakfast.

“Usual, around 12am? Played on the Xbox and then headed to sleep.” He told you as you nodded. “How about you?”

“Oh around eleven. Talked to tom, took a shower, read a bit of my book. It was nothing much.” You gave him the usual rundown.

“I took Tess for a walk so you don’t have to worry about her.” He told you and you nodded.

“Thanks.” You see the dog at your feet and give her a piece of bacon you found from the counter. It probably was quickly heated in the microwave from haz because he didn’t really cook. Neither did tom but you taught him over the years, over both years.

“Hey, so...the party tonight…” he trailed on as he got up from his spot on the couch. “Mind if I invite Amanda?” He asks. The girl from November. The girl that acted a little strange but then stopped seeing haz. She was strange, although if he needed her to get over you, then yes, it was terrible but yes.

“Oh, the girl from November? From the coffee shop?” You asked as that was how they met.

“Yeah, black hair, green eyes, olive skin?” He describes her. Were you a little jealous of Amanda? Yes. Every boy was all over her. Even tom admitted for thinking she was hot but then said she was off and wouldn’t be worth it for him if he wasn’t with you. And he had you and loved you more than anything.

“Of course.” You tell him as you go to grab a mug for coffee. “You two...a thing?” You point with your fingers and he nods.

“Well...kinda. It’s off and on.” He lies. He texted her last night when he was horny and they sexted for the whole night. He wasn’t playing Xbox, he was talking to Amanda and she was coming to fuck.

One thing about Amanda was that she didn’t like Harrison, or you. She liked tom. She liked him a lot. She thought he was infatuating and wanted him. But then she saw him with you and realized to back off. She didn’t feel so bad for liking tom though because haz had his eyes on you. It was no secret with Amanda. They liked people they couldn’t get. Typical, sad, but true.

“She’s pretty.” You told him. You were being honest and if Harrison had a new girlfriend coming in, good for him.

“Thanks.” He says and you go back into adding the strawberries into your oatmeal. “Toms pretty too.” He teases and you laugh.

“I’ll tell him that. He’ll need the validation especially from you.” You tease and he laughs.

“So uhh…” he starts and you start to get nervous. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I was being dumb and blind. I’m sorry if I offended you, that wasn’t my intention at all.” He says and you shake your head.

“I’m over it. It’s fine.” You take a sip of your coffee. “Do you...did you...are you…” you start and he nods.

“I do. I do. but you’re happy with tom. Toms happy with you. I can’t do that to myself or any of you. I was being selfish in the moment and I’m sorry. Don’t worry about me, there’s someone out there that’s perfect for me the way tom is perfect for you, and Vice versa.”

“I hope you find that girl.” You pat his shoulder In a friendship way and he smiles. A soft smile that still hurts but is something new.

“Thanks.” He gets caught in your eyes. For a second he thinks about Amanda, calling her off, but then he thinks he shouldn’t be in love with you. Tom is proposing in 11 days(counting today) he can’t be in love with his best friends fiancé.

“What’s going on here?” Toms voice makes you jump. You set your coffee mug on the counter and run over to tom. You jump on his body and pepper his face in kisses.

“Mmh, I’ve missed you, I’ve missed you, I’ve missed you!” Your cheery personality makes harrison swallow hard and toms heart spin. The red head mess of curls cover in snow comes in behind him shutting the door. Harry holds another suitcase of Toms and comes in to take Harrison away so you and tom can have some time alone.

“I’ve missed you more than you could imagine princess.” He kisses your neck before setting you down.

“You must be starving! How did you get home so early? I thought it wasn’t until two—“ you started and he smiled and pulled you into a kiss.

“I booked an earlier flight.” He kisses your cheek and you two almost eye fuck in the middle of the living room before you look over and see Harry standing akwardly there.

“I’ve missed you too Harry.” You let go of Tom and go over to hug him tightly. Your hug throws him off but he sinks into it feeling like you were the older sister that protects him from Tom. Especially when Tom was cranky.

“Excited to see the human embodiment of holiday cheer.” He teases and you pinch his shoulder.

“touché.” You go back over to tom and he wraps his arms around you.

“Well Harrison, it’s your lucky day. I’m here to save you while these two fuck like rabbits.” Harry says straight up and tom punches him. Harry grips into his shoulder and Harrison lets out a soft chuckle.

“I guess it really is my lucky day isn’t it.” He says and then looks at the two of you who can’t get enough of each other. “I’ll be out in a second, let me go get changed.” Haz leaves the room and it leaves you, Harry, and tom. Harry looks off at his phone and you are back to being in love with tom. Your one true love.

“Mmh, while you were gone I got you more presents.” You told him as you played with the hair that was coming back.

“I’m about to give you a present when they leave.” He lets his hands grip your ass and you squeal and Harry groans.

“Harrison hurry up!” He yells and tom gives him a look. You could tell when Tom and Harry spent too much time together, they got annoyed with each other pretty fast. But they still loved each other at the end of the day and were the playful brothers they always were.

“I can’t wait to do this every fucking day.” He grumbled into your ear so Harry couldn’t hear just how horny he was. You laugh and let him kiss your neck as you enjoy his kisses.

“You do get this everyday. You’ve just had to wait because of filming.” You scratch at his back and Harry looks at the both of you shocked.

“Harrison—!” He starts but Haz jogs out of the room with his phone and wallet to be with Harry for the day.

Harrison catches a glimpse at the two of you practically begging them to leave to fuck. He feels a pang but moves on. Hes got Amanda, some sweet, pretty girl he found a month ago. Sweet pretty girl that can suck his dick really good.

“Bye guys, we don’t wanna be uncles yet by the way!” Harry calls, Tom chuckles and press more kisses on your neck. He pushes you back into the couch causing you to fall and tumble over. You giggle at his neediness and he keeps pressing kisses.

“Missed you more than you know.” He mumbles into your skin. You play with his hair and tilt your head back to give him access.

“I think I might’ve missed you more.” You let your hands roam to lift his shirt and he gladly takes it off. He shivers a little but will soon be warmed up by your body against his.

“Impossible.” He let his hands slip under your shirt and cup your breast. You arch your back as you swore his hands got bigger and they were much colder.

“Let me take care of you?” You ask pulling at his trousers. He smirks and as much as he’d want your lips on him sucking him until he sees stars, he wants to take care of you first.

“My turn first darling.”

You lay back in your own bed completely fucked out. Your legs sore and you don’t even think you’re in the mood to make an appearance at your own holiday party. Tom went to go clean himself up and brought the rag into the room to clean you up.

“Do you know what’s up with Haz?” He asks. He takes the cold rag and cleans you up. He mumbles a ‘sorry’ and kisses your bruises and hickies he’s left by accident.

“I don’t wanna talk about our best mate when we’re naked.” You whine as you stretch your hands over your head. He chuckles as he comes back up and presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Sorry,” he throws the rag on the ground and you reach for your hoodie since you’re cold. “But he seemed weird the other day when I called him. Mostly to check up on you but it was like he was ignoring you.”

Tom wasn’t gonna lie, he was a little standoffish about leaving you and him alone. He trusted you, he trusted him, but three years ago Harrison said how beautiful you were and how much he wanted a girl like you. It was over a couple of drinks and you and Tom were only about 6 months into dating so he didn’t really worry about it considering it’s been a few years. He assumed he got over his little crush on you since there’s been several girls since.

Although haz having a crush on you now wouldn’t surprise him. He’s noticed how Harrison will get a little flirty with you in the room and how your naturally chippy personality does not help him. He knows you’re loyal, he’s known you’ve been in cheating relationships and how it broke your heart. He knows you wouldn’t cheat on him and how much you love him. And in eleven days he’d call you his fiancé. Then you’d probably have a summer or fall wedding next year and everything would be absolutely perfect. You'd be his wife and probably have a kid in three years. He couldn’t wait, he absolutely couldn’t wait.

“That’s strange, when were you talking to him?” You asked turning to your side. His arm was loosely wrapped around you and he couldn’t unlock his eyes from yours.

“Like two nights ago.” He shrugged and you tried to think and you couldn’t. You couldn’t really think of anything that could make him irritated other than maybe his feelings.

“Who knows.” You shrug and your eyes go over to the tree and the presents.

There were a few big ones, you knew what you got tom and you’d only hoped he’d love it. You knew he’d love the matching necklaces you got for each other and the shoes that he’s been wanting for months. You also knew he’d like the Apple Watch and regular watch you got him. You loved spoiling Tom on Christmas and he knew it.

“What’s that itty bitty box?” You have been fascinated with the small box that was poorly wrapped.

“That’s a Christmas surprise darling.” He poked your nose and you scrunched it.

“But what if we played the ‘open one present’ game?” You pout and he shakes his head.

“Then I’d tell you to pick something else.” He kisses your jaw and you threw your head back. You could go another round and not prepare for tonight, or you could start cooking now.

“Tom,” you moan and he rolls over to be on top of you. “I’ve missed you, but I need to get started for tonight.” You start new scratches on his back. He kisses your cheek and pouts.

“Mmh, we’ve got a couple of hours.” He looks over at the alarm clock that reads “2:15” he ignores it thinking the party doesn’t start until six so he has time.

“Yeah, but I need to prepare for the amount of boys in my house tonight.” You tell him and he lifts his head from your neck.

“Your house? I live here too!” He furrows his brows and you push him off.

“If we get done by 5:00 I’ll let you have me of the whole hour. And I’m all yours tomorrow.” You wink and he rolls to slip on his joggers and sweatshirt.

“You know what? Cooking sounds really good right now.” He says in a serious voice. You chuckle as he gets up real excited.

“I love you.” You get up out of bed and wrap your arms around his waist.

“Love you too sweetheart.” He kisses your forehead and you rest your head against his chest. “So...we making treats or what?” He is trying to move as fast as possible to get back into bed.

“Calm down, I know you’re excited.” You say and he pulls your lips onto his, his one last chance to try and get you into bed. He leaves a long sweet kiss and he can already feel himself getting hard. It’s not his fault he missed you for so long and he made a bet with Harrison for no nut November, he won but still he was beyond horny.

“Please one more round babe I’m begging you.” He whimpers and you feel his hard on poking your legs.

“I’m actually all fucked out and will be surprised if I can walk tonight but I can take care of you.” You slowly go down to your knees and he looks over to the clock seeing how it’s now “2:21”.

“Ten minutes tops?” He looks down at you with already blushed red face, he needs this, really needs this.

“Ten minuets or you wait the rest of the night.” You tease and he twitches in his pants.

“Deal.”

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webcricket · 6 years ago

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Castiel Imagine

Imagine: Your brother loses his cool when he overhears Castiel giving you a lesson on how best to handle an angel’s blade (ft. Dean Winchester putting the “ass” in assumption.)

“You sure you want to do this now? In the middle of the library? I mean it’s not the most practical setting to whip it out-” the anxious pitch of your voice threads the threshold of the bunker’s library door, needles through the map room into the hall, and pricks Dean’s ears to alertness as he shuffles between the kitchen and his bedroom with a half-eaten sandwich shoved in his pie hole for purposes of transport on account of a beer held in each available fist- “we might break something.”

Over-protective brotherly spidey-senses forever tingling in regards to you, ignited by the hesitation laden in your words and his uncertainty of what they refer to, the elder Winchester stops up short to listen closely for who you’re speaking to and about what exactly.

“You doubt your ability.” Castiel’s gravelly observation informs as to the who.

“I just haven’t had a lot of practice,” you reply in an abashedly lowered tone.

“Here-” Cas continues, cadence exuding confidence in whatever he’s offering- “don’t be afraid. I’ve sensed your longing to try this for awhile. It’s not as though you haven’t thought about touching it many times before today. Go on.”

Your awe-struck hum of, “It’s harder that I thought it would be,” sets Dean’s muscles frenetically, and clumsily, into motion. Briefly he forgets the bready stopper stuffed in his mouth and tries to shout through the ire-muffling amalgam of carbs.

“Keep your grip gentle, but firm. Focus on squeezing around the base when the heft of it first hits your hand,” Cas instructs softly.

“S’too big, Cas,” you whine.

“You’re overthinking, relax. Let the shaft glide across the cradle of your palm and gravity will do the rest.”

Fumbling, Dean shifts the necks of each bottle into one hand and rips the ham and cheese filled triple-decker from his clamped teeth.

“Closer?” you wonder.

“Very close,” Cas growls.

“Slippery little devil,” you laugh lightly. “You know, it’s kind of ironic something as simple as this can make a being the size of the Chrysler building come undone.”

Heart rate ascending heavenward, rapid rush of adrenaline wobbling his limbs, Dean trips into the map room.

“There!” Cas rasps in praise. “So good.”

“Like this?” you ask.

“Yes, that’s it!” the angel exclaims with orgasmic glee.

Momentum of stumble moving him forward, Dean and his beer spill up the library’s concrete steps and put him within sight of you. “What the hell is going on in here?!” Mayonnaise and bits of hastily chewed bread froth at the corners of his mouth.

“Hello, Dean.” Cas peers up at his friend from where you’ve just proudly flipped and caught his angel blade like a seasoned pro.

“Hey, jerk.” You aim your chin at him in greeting, stabbing at the empty air in lieu of a having an actual enemy within reach.

Dean stares between you, jaw and glinting green gaze widely agape. He can’t reconcile the innocent context of what his eyes are telling him was happening with the hands-on hedonistic mayhem his mind assumed given what he heard.

“I was showing your sister how to balance my angel blade in close combat,” Cas explains. He gestures to the metallic shine of the weapon in question in your lithe clasp. “She’s a very fast learner.”

Nodding slowly, Dean wipes a sleeve across his face and skeptically repeats the angelic explanation, “You were showing my sister how to handle your blade?”

“That’s what he said,” you tease, knowing full well what your brother imagined was going on given how worked up he is.

“Uh huh.” Dean keeps bobbing his head like a dashboard decoration bouncing on a bumpy back road where the driver took a wrong turn. He points his sandwich at Cas and shakes a few menacing crumbs onto the floor. “I’m keeping my eye on you.”

You watch him turn to leave, and shout at his departing spine, “Whatever you say. I’m a grown woman, Dean. I make my own decisions about whose blade I want to handle.” You smile, because frazzled Dean is never not funny, and because for all the sneaking around you and the seraph do do to secret the actual romantic and physical nature of intimacy shared from your brothers this is the thing Dean finds to freak out about.

You look down at the cool metal held in your hands, twisting the triangular point, you catch Cas' curiosity crimped brow reflected in the mirrored edge.

“I don’t understand,” he contemplates aloud, “what did he think was happening?”

With Dean long gone to nurse his wounded ego and the coast clear of Sam, you decide - setting the blade aside on the table, clasping Cas by the coat lapels, pushing him backward to sit in a chair, and notching your body between his knees and a finger behind his belt buckle - that it’s a query best served by a tactile answer.

Castiel tag list: (Closed, if you’d like to be removed please let me know!) @jeepangel @sammiesamness @willowing-love @blueicevalkyrie @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11 @thesugargalaxy @bluetina-blog @dont-trust-humanity @honeybeetrash @bucky-thorin-winchester @superwholockz @tistai @wordstothewisereaders @gill-ons @mrswhozeewhatsis @marisayouass @stone-met @castiel-savvy18 @samualmortgrim @trexrambling @magnificent-mantle @xdifsx @mandilion76 @rockfairy @peaceloveancolor @unicorntrooper @anisolatedship @itsilvermorny @aditimukul @kudosia @goofynerd-67babylove @uninspirationalsonglyrics @gray-avidan @mishascupcake @mishapanicmeow @praisecastielamen @roseyhxnt @jessikared97 @let-the-imaginationflow @warriorqueen1991 @sebastianstanslefteyebrow @hisnameisboobear @kristendanwayne @fuschiarulerinthebluebox @coolpencilpie @jenabean75 @luciathewinchestergirl @morganas-pendragons @heyitscam99 @fangirl-and-stuff @selahbela @realgreglestrade @splendidcas @pointlesscasey @i-larb-spooderman @thewhiterabbit42 @thelostverse @castieliswatchingoverme @beccollie18 @dragonett8 @dixie-chick @jtownraindancer @carowinsthings @passionghost @ladyofletters67 @futureparent @gabbie7-11 @myfandomlife-blog @dreamerkim @shamelesslydean @earthtokace @neaeri @justanormalangel @lone-loba @supernaturalymarvel @lilrubixx @wings-and-halo @lilulo-12 @x-cassiopeia @thehoneybeecastielfollows @musiclovinchic93 @81mysteriouslyme @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @jaylarkson @missjenniferb @jessiekay2010

#castiel imagine #spn imagine #castiel x reader #castielxreader #castiel x you #castielxyou #cas x reader #cas x you #spn x reader #castiel fanfic #castiel fanfiction #castiel #you x castiel #reader x castiel #cricket writes cas

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fvlminare · 5 years ago

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✗✗✗ you see [ camille rivas ] around lately? yeah i heard that the [ cis female ] is up to no good. [ she / her ] has been here for [ three years ] now but they’re still pretty [ calculating ] which is fine because they’re also [ ardent ] so it balances out. the [ twenty-six ] year old [ dancer at mayhem ] actually looks like a lot like [ sofia carson ], don’t you think? it’s best to watch out, though, because it’s been said that they’re really into [ the rush of cocaine in her veins & a vice grip on her throat ].

henlo it me again! i hope u guys aren’t sick of me yet bc here’s my other bb! say hello to my boss-ass bish gal camile! she’s sassy, classy and a lil badassy. she’s a rather feisty, fiery, ball of rage and anger who cba with ur bullshit tbh n she’ll tell u this too if u piss her off enough! she’s lowkey cutthroat and always out for number one, aka: herself. but, i mean, she does have some redeeming qualities and her hair is bomb af so that makes up for it all really, doesn’t it? basically that meme: ‘ she’s beauty, she’s grace, she’ll punch you in the face. ’ anywho, you know the drill, slap a lil luv on this n i’ll come pester u for all the good stuff : - )

fundamentals.

CAMILLE ALARA RIVAS — twenty-six, dancer at mayhem, + an honest-to-god vixen / hellcat / lil demoness !

aesthetics ➤ dresses of black lace and red velvet, the scent of chanel perfume lingering in the air as she floats past, blood-red fingertips coiled around the pistol grip of a gun, red-bottomed heels clicking against marble floors, rose gold highlighter shimmering along the height of prominent cheekbones, satin dresses draped over a svelte frame that is shrouded in an air of mystery and intrigue, baby pink roses in a vase on the window sill, deft fingers stained with charcoal and oil paint, the melodic chime of piano keys, delicate digits adorned with moonstone gem rings, a coy smile spread across full crimson lips, long raven locks blowing in the cool breeze of a summer’s evening, battered books with dog-eared pages, a sense of freedom and carelessness when dancing for fun, & a sense of allurement and captivation when dancing for work.

nicknames. cam, cami, mil, millie, spawn of satan >:~)

date of birth. april tenth.

gender. cis female.

pronouns. she + her.

birthplace. manhattan, new york.

orientation. pansexual + demiromantic.

education. bachelor of dance degree obtained from nyu tisch school of the arts.

spoken languages. can speak fluent english, spanish, & latin.

negative traits. capricious, ornery, impulsive, guileful, caustic, brusque, obstinate, destructive, deceptive, & promiscuous.

positive traits. ardent, whimsical, intrepid, graceful, poised, elegant, headstrong, observant, independent, & confident.

strengths. optimistic, energetic, creative, practical, spontaneous, rational, knows how to prioritise, great in a crisis, & relaxed.

weaknesses. stubborn, insensitive, private, reserved, easily bored, dislikes commitment, & has a rather risky behaviour.

talents. ballet, knife throwing, hand-to-hand combat, horse riding, figure skating, piano, violin, painting, singing, & dancing.

physiology. hazel eyes. dark brown hair. five feet, four inches tall. of a petite, slender stature with subtle curves and long hair. has a long silvery scar on her back. her skin is clean of any tattoos. has both earlobes pierced. requires glasses but wears contacts most days. is right-handed.

psychology. aries zodiac. fire element. ravenclaw house. istp-a. true neutral. type seven enneagram. choleric temperament. intra-personal intelligence type. addicted to alcohol, tobacco, and cannabis. suffers from addiction and abandonment issues. her vices are lust, greed and wrath. her virtues are ... ( again ) honestly, probably just diligence tbh.

background.

possible triggers : child abandonment, abandonment issues, foster homes, alcohol, drugs, violence, gore, blood, murder, & death.

a synopsis. ok so for this gal, let’s all give a big, warm welcome to sadness ( no, i was in no way at all inspired by salem from sabrina for that line ) bc boy oh boy, her life has been constant grief and pain, tbh. strap in for the bumpy ride, i’ll give u cookies for compensation. OK SO, camille was abandoned as a baby, never did—and still doesn't—know her biological parents and she doesn’t want to either, tbh. she bounced around from foster home to foster home, never sticking in one place for too long. given her turbulent upbringing, she was somewhat of a difficult child. too boisterous, too unruly, too stubborn, too inquisitive. too much of everything but never enough of anything. never enough for anybody to want her. it didn’t take the girl too long to figure out that it was just her alone, against the big bad world. from the age that she was old enough to realise it, camille knew that she had to fend for herself—that she could never truly rely on a single soul but herself. the hollowness inside her chest never quite satiated, leaving her empty and only too well aware of the lack of her real parental figures. as a young adolescent, this started to crawl under her skin and mess with her mind. it rendered her void of affection and unable to form genuine bonds with others—filling her with deep-rooted resentment that festered beneath the surface of the indifferent demeanour she plastered over herself every day. she always felt starved of love: as if some integral part of her heart was missing, leaving a gaping void that nobody could ever fill. anywho, she fell in with the wrong crowd which did little to aid her foster families hostility toward her. truthfully, most of her experiences in various homes were ... not pleasant. she’d encountered abusive ‘parents,’ horrible ‘siblings,’ and even worse schooling days. pressing the self-destruct button is this gal’s speciality thus she found herself gravitating towards her vices: things and people she knew were no good for her. drink, drugs, people, you name it. quickly, she realised that these things were no longer any good at keeping her dark side at bay: she needed something more, something deeper. thus, she began going down the road of petty crimes—stealing cars, smashing windows, theft, setting fires both metaphorically and literally. due to this lifestyle, she wound up entangled with some real shady folk who did … even shadier things. most specifically, she started dating a real jackass who was violent and truthfully, a horrible person, really. stupidly, she decided to run off into the metaphorical sunset with him * insert eye roll emoji here. * so, fast forward a year or so and things took a swift nosedive when her lowlife boyfriend’s hands were round her throat and not in the kinky way. while she’d clawed at him and tried to fight him off, she struggled against his weight and strength until, eventually, she lifted the first makeshift weapon she felt: a rusted pair of scissors. [ TRIGGER FOR VIOLENCE, GORE, BLOOD, MURDER, DEATH ] and, in a blind state of panic, she jammed them right into his jugular vein, his blood squirting out and decorating her face in crimson splatters. he’d stumbled backwards, clutched onto his neck, blood spurting from the webs between his fingers. naturally, camille was shook about this but somehow managed to flee the scene with less guilt rattling her soul than she’d imagined. [ TRIGGER OVER ] in her mind, it was an act of self defence. it wasn’t too long after the incident that she found herself in a rather perilous situation that resulted in her sudden realisation that she needed to get her damn life on track. therefore, she done the responsible adult thing and got herself a decent education. somehow, she managed to get into university where her life started to shape into a positive one—the kind she’d always dreamed of. once she graduated, camille decided that she wanted to see the world. following a couple of years travelling, she wound up in santa ysabel where she quickly fell into the employment of mayhem. admittedly, this was a far cry from the future she’d envisioned when she was just a sweet, innocent lil child. still, all in all, she kind of digs who she is and what she is: after everything she’s been through, she loves herself. it’s been a long and winding road but camille finally believes that she’s settled in her life now. tho she still refuses to let people in, her abandonment issues terrifying her to the degree that she feels that anybody she’d ever let into her life would eventually leave her in the end. * insert sad face emoji here. *

random extras.

her tell? playing with her hair: when she’s lying, nervous, flirting—you name it!

can drink any man under the table.

she loves art in every form: paintings, sculptures, music, dance, people, etc. she loves the freedom that expressing herself through these mediums gives her.

she’s ... experimental. she’s experimented with just about everything: hairstyles, clothing, drink, drugs, people ...

can be hella calculating and vindictive so do not cross her.

quite power-hungry tbh.

she does have a shot at redemption but she doesn’t want it lmao. she’s already been to hell so why bother trying to right her wrongs?

and boy, are her wrongs a century-long list shkjsh.

high key is not above killing people who don’t do things her way.

doesn’t believe she’s capable of loving anyone.

she’s lowkey a perfectionist to the point of being ruthless, also cutthroat and egotistical.

if ya ain’t of use to her, then what the heck is ur purpose???

she’s v ambitious, v morally ambiguous, v self-serving and v self-involved.

she can be ... aggressive sometimes and most definitely has anger issues.

dry sense of humour one million per cent.

her signature look is her blood-red lips.

extremely skilled with knives and blades. and always carries one on her person at all times.

her most prized possession is her brushed chrome zippo lighter. it has her initials engraved into it and where she got it from, or who is something she’ll never tell.

always says she needs to quit smoking but never does and probably never will either.

did someone say ... resting bitch face???

tho when she smiles it’s like sunshine uwu

high key will sleep with anyone.

first place is the ONLY acceptable place, ok???

one of those people who just excels at everything she tries her hand at.

absolutely adores animals. much prefers them to humans.

she’s quite adventurous and loves to feel the adrenaline in her blood.

doesn’t take herself or her life too seriously.

always up for a good time and is usually the life of the party.

outspoken and quick-witted with a sharp tongue.

much too sassy and sarcastic for her own good.

really, she does what she wants to, when she wants to, without seeking the approval of others.

truthfully? she’s a bit of a spitfire if you really irk her. so, watch out.

you can find a pinterest board for her by clicking anywhere here.

#* dj khaled vc * anotha one !!!#slap a lil heart on this n i'll hit ya up for le plots !!!#indulgence.intro

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searchingwardrobes · 5 years ago

Text

Start of Time: 4/8

I’ve outlined this entire fic, and I believe (fingers crossed) that it should be eight chapters long.

Reminder that Emma is being called “Wendy” in this because she has amnesia. In this chapter, Killian decides that the weather has cleared enough to take “Wendy” to meet his neighbors and see if anyone recognizes her. Emma/”Wendy” also has an intense conversation with Liam that triggers something in her.

Summary: Killian and his son are driving through a bad snow storm when they find a disoriented woman walking down the road. The question is, how can they help her get home when she has no idea who she is? Written for @teamhook on her birthday.

Rating: T

Words: A little over 3k in this chapter

Also on Ao3

Tagging: @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kmomof4 @welllpthisishappening @xhookswenchx @let-it-raines @winterbaby89 @teamhook @bethacaciakay @scientificapricot @shireness-says @spartanguard @thislassishooked @profdanglaisstuff @sherlockianwhovian @superchocovian @ekr032-blog-blog @kday426 @optomisticgirl @wellhellotragic @tiganasummertree @jennjenn615 @branlovestowrite @vvbooklady1256 @hollyethecurious @distant-rose @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @ultraluckycatnd @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @nikkiemms @ohmakemeahercules @lfh1226-linda

And the day is clear. My voice is just a whisper.

Wendy shut the Jones’s laptop with more force than she probably should have. She lowered her head and massaged her brow, forcing herself to take deep, calming breaths.

“Don’t give yourself another headache, love.”

Wendy turned sheepishly at the sound of Killian’s voice. “Sorry. I should be more careful with your stuff.”

He waved it off as he pulled an ottoman closer and sat down. “You can’t hurt it any more than the kids already do. Besides, I can’t imagine how you must feel.”

Wendy bit her lip. “I just wish I could do something to figure out who I am.”

“I know the lack of WiFi is frustrating, but I do have good news.”

Her eyes widened. “Really? What?”

“They haven’t cleared the roads yet, but the weather has been nice enough that I can get my snowmobile out. I need to check in on my patients at the surrounding farms anyway. I figured you could come along.”

She frowned. “By patients you mean animals. What good would that do?”

He laughed brightly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. It was infectious, and despite her worries, Wendy found her lips curling the tiniest bit.

“Yes, my patients are animals, but they do have owners. I was thinking about why you would have been driving that particular stretch of road. Maybe you were on your way to visit one of my neighbors.”

Wendy’s brow furrowed. “So you think someone around here may know me?”

Killian tilted his head to study her as she rubbed her temple, her eyes falling shut. “Are you remembering something?”

She dropped her hands and let out a puff of breath in frustration. “No, it’s just . . . something about what you’re saying . . . doesn’t . . . fit.” She growled under her breath. “God, I’m sorry, I’m not making any sense.”

“No, it’s okay,” Killian quickly reassured her, dropping a hand to her knee, “but it couldn’t hurt to ask around, right?”

She nodded firmly. “You’re right. I’ve got to do something, or I’ll go crazy.”

Behind them, Mary Margaret had just reached the bottom of the stairs. “You ready for your ride?”

Wendy glanced between them. “I thought . . . I thought Killian was -”

“Oh, he’s taking you,” Mary Margaret interrupted, “but I’ll be tagging along on my own machine until the trail branches off to our farm. Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of private trails so you can wrap your arms around Killian.”

Mary Margaret gave them both a wink as she headed to the mud room to put on her snow gear. Wendy’s face burned, and Killian quickly rose to his feet, clearing his throat awkwardly and rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Yeah, um, I’ve got two machines, but Henry’s already out in the back pasture with Alice, so . . . we’ll need to share.”

Wendy finally managed to look him in the eye, and she was strangely encouraged to see that his face was bright red, too. “That’s okay, I mean, I don’t even know how to drive one. At least I don’t think I do . . . “ She trailed off with a nervous laugh.

Killian nodded. “Okay, well, then . . . I’ll just go grab some winter gear for you.”

He turned and collided with the sofa, the red creeping up to the very tips of his ears as he righted himself. Wendy clapped her hand over her mouth to stop a giggle from escaping. When she rose to follow him, she tripped over her own feet, but she didn’t think he noticed. God, they needed to pull themselves together or they’d both end up in a ditch this time.

************************************************

Wendy wouldn’t lie, clinging to Killian as the snowmobile cut through the wintry landscape was exhilarating. She could say it was the brisk air cutting across her cheeks, the pristine forest blurring past, or the times they momentarily went airborne as the machine flew over hills and snowdrifts. But she would be lying. The exhilarating part was all about the man she had her arms wrapped around - the firm strength of his body, the warmth radiating from him, and the way he smelled of pine and woodsmoke. She was tempted to rest her cheek against his upper back, but the ride was far too bumpy and her helmet would have made it a bit awkward. She was embarrassed to say that even Killian helping her buckle the helmet’s strap below her chin back at the house had sent electricity down her spine. She was acting completely ridiculous. She had only known this man for four days, and she was acting like a schoolgirl with a crush.

Of course, as far as she could remember, he was the only man she knew.

They crested a hill, and farm land spread below them, covered in pure white. A bright red barn sat next to the pastureland, and beyond it a quaint two story farmhouse with red shutters and a red front door. As Killian neared, a large man with curly brown hair stepped out onto the front porch and waved. Killian parked the machine next to a pickup truck between the barn and house. He and Wendy were just removing their helmets when the man rounded the corner of the house. He was even larger close up, in both girth and height, yet the smile that lit his face was friendly and put Wendy immediately at ease.

“Tiny!” Killian exclaimed, taking the man’s hand and clapping him on the back. “How have you fared during the storm?”

“Not bad. I’ve got a generator, like most of the farmers, and I had stocked up plenty of firewood.” His eyes fell on Wendy. “Anton Jackson,” he said, offering his hand.

“Wendy,” she replied simply as she shook it. She was surprisingly used to “Wendy” by now, it even felt right, but it still felt odd and frustrating that she had no last name to offer the man.

“Wendy is actually stranded in Storybrooke,” Killian put in, coming to her side. “She had an accident when the storm hit, and she’s got a bit of amnesia. Do you recognize her?”

The man frowned as he shook his head sadly. “I’m afraid not. I’m so sorry. I’m sure I would remember such a lovely face if I’d seen you before.”

Wendy tucked her hair behind her ears and felt herself blush. “That’s okay. It was a long shot anyway.”

Killian gave her a sad, sympathetic look, and she was suddenly embarrassed. Maybe she didn’t have anyone in her life who would miss her.

“Well,” Killian said, swiftly changing the subject, “let’s take a look at Gruff’s leg, shall we?”

Anton led the way into the barn, and Wendy slid closer to Killian so she could whisper close to his ear. “You call him Tiny?”

“Everyone calls him that,” Killian whispered back, “and you’ll soon see why.”

“Good morning, my little ones!” Anton boomed as he stepped through the barn door. One half of the structure was cordoned off with a short gate, and inside were about eight of the smallest goats Wendy had ever seen.

“Pygmy goats,” Killian explained as he stepped into the enclosure. He went straight to a little brown one with white spots and knelt down to unwrap the bandage from its right front leg.

“They’re adorable!” she exclaimed.

Tiny motioned for her to come inside the gate. She was a little nervous at first, but the little goats only bumped at her calves and let out little excited bleats at their visitor.

“This little guy is my favorite,” Killian told her, rubbing behind the ears of the goat he was examining. “Gruff’s name is actually ironic, isn’t it?”

Wendy grinned at the way Killian cooed at the little goat. He looked up at her, and for some reason, his grin and the light in his eyes made her stomach flip.

“Would you mind holding him while I change the dressings on his leg?”

“Me?” she glanced around for Tiny, but the large man was busy spreading fresh hay in the goat’s enclosure.

“Of course. Gruff has the sweetest disposition. I wouldn’t ask you if it was dangerous.”

Wendy nodded and knelt down next to Killian. He gently placed the little goat into her arms, and she found his warm, wiggly body comforting against her chest. Gruff bleated and nudged her chin with his nose, but overall was still and calm as Killian changed out his dirty bandage for a fresh one.

“What happened to him?” she asked.

“Not sure. Tiny saw that he had a cut on his leg, which shouldn’t have been a big deal. It got infected though, and he had me come take a look. There are lots of ways a goat kid can get a cut, just like a human child.”

“You mean he’s just as curious as Henry and Alice?”

He looked at her with that expressive grin again. “Precisely.”

Even when Killian went to talk to Tiny about how the wound was healing, Wendy didn’t put Gruff down. He didn’t smell all that great, to be honest, but his warm fur beneath her fingers and his wet tongue swiping at her chin brought her comfort. She heard a laugh and looked up to see Killian admiring her.

“You’re just as good at assisting me as Henry and Alice.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

They visited three more farms: the Hermans who had a dairy cow on the mend from a cold, the Morgans who had an elderly horse with an eye infection, and the Pipers who were trying to keep a case of sore mouth from spreading to all their sheep. Farm life was completely new to Wendy, but she found it surprisingly fascinating (though the smell of sheep was much too pungent for her taste - she’d take her wool in sweaters, thank you very much). Watching Killian in his element was wonderful too. He was gentle with the animals and talked to them in a soothing voice. With their owners, he was charming, sometimes bordering on flirting. There was such a contrast in this man. He was obviously well-liked in the community, yet she had often seen a glimpse of sadness during unguarded moments in his home. Despite his children, his brother, and obvious friends, she nevertheless sensed loneliness in him. It was as if she could see things other people missed, which was crazy. How could she be so foolish to think she could read him when she’d only known him a few days?

As for the other purpose of their outing, it was a complete and utter failure. No one had been expecting any visitors, and no one knew who Wendy was. Aside from the Morgan’s ten year old daughter Violet commenting that she looked like “someone she had seen before,” no one even recognized Wendy.

“Maybe you were on that road because you got lost,” Killian tried to assure her as they climbed back onto the snowmobile.

“Killian,” she whispered near his neck as she wrapped her arms around him, “what if I was wandering that road because something horrible happened to me? What if that’s why I can’t remember anything?”

The terrifying thought made her shiver more than the frigid air. Killian grasped one of her hands and squeezed it through their thick gloves.

“We’ll figure it out. I promise. Someone out there loves you and has to be looking for you.”

He started the engine then, and Wendy couldn’t respond. Why did she have this cruel voice taunting her mind? A voice that hissed, no one loves you; you’re alone.

********************************************

Wendy ventured downstairs a little past midnight. She was unable to sleep, and the copy of Peter Pan Henry had loaned her was doing nothing to stop the vicious circle of thoughts assaulting her mind. A rumble in her stomach finally pushed her to leave the guest bedroom she had moved into since Mary Margaret went home.

She hesitated at the bottom of the stairs when she heard Killian and Liam in the kitchen. Killian had told her multiple times to make herself at home and to help herself from the fridge and the pantry, yet she still felt like an intruder. More so when Liam was around.

“Your move, little brother.”

“It’s younger brother, and don’t look so smug. I’m awfully good at seeing a few moves ahead.”

“Are you trying to say I just made a mistake?”

Killian laughed. “Perhaps.”

They were playing chess; not talking about her. Wendy let out a relieved breath and headed into the kitchen. She avoided the brothers’ gazes as she opened the refrigerator, but Killian’s voice greeted her.

“Can’t sleep, love?”

She pressed her lips together and admonished her cheeks to stop reddening. She had come to realize over the past few days that he tossed the word “love” around as a moniker for everyone, even Mary Margaret. It shouldn’t affect her the way it did. She grabbed an apple and slowly turned to face him.

“Not really.”

“Would some good news help?”

Wendy’s eyes widened. “Really? What’s that?”

“Sheriff Graham called after you went upstairs. He can be here late tomorrow morning. He’s going to bring Doctor Whale, too.”

For some reason, her stomach twisted up at the thought. She wanted to figure out who she was, but what if she didn’t like what she found? Killian seemed to pick up on her hesitancy, and reached out to take her hand.

“It will work out. I’m sure of it.”

Killian rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, and Liam cleared his throat. Wendy snatched her hand away and cut her gaze over to Liam who was openly scowling at her. Killian narrowed his eyes at his brother, but before things could get more heated, Alice’s voice cut through the tension.

“Daddy,” she said, her lower lip quivering, “you forgot to spray for monsters.”

“Did I?” Killian asked, rising quickly to go to his daughter. “I’m sorry, starfish.”

“You need to quit with that,” Liam put in, then he turned to his niece. “You know there’s no such thing as monsters, little love. There’s nothing to fear.”

Alice narrowed her eyes just like her father and put her hands on her hips. A stuffed rabbit dangled from her right fist.

“There are so monsters. Grown ups just can’t see them!”

“Well, I don’t know,” Wendy spoke up, coming to kneel before Alice, “I think I’ve seen a monster or two myself in that room of yours.”

“Not helping,” Liam hissed behind her.

Alice’s eyes grew wide. “You did?”

“Mhm,” Wendy told her solemnly, “but I think they’re friendly monsters there to watch over you. I mean, I slept great in that room, happy I wasn’t alone.”

Alice tilted her head skeptically. “But grown ups don’t know magic like kids do. That’s why only kids can go to Wonderland, and Neverland, and Narnia. All the books say so.”

“But didn’t the grown ups get to go back to Narnia in The Last Battle? And the professor never stopped believing.”

“Hmm,” Alice contemplated, rubbing at her chin. Also like her father, Wendy thought to herself. “I never thought of that.”

“So maybe only special grown ups can see magic,” Wendy stage whispered. Alice looked smugly over her shoulder at her uncle, and Wendy had to bite her lip not to laugh. Served him right.

“Like Daddy is special?”

Wendy looked up at Killian who had retrieved a spray bottle decorated with sparkly swirls from under the sink as she had been talking. Also painted on the bottle were the words “monster spray” in childish font. It looked like Alice’s handiwork. The smile he shared with Wendy over his daughter’s head made her heart flip in her chest.

“Of course I’m special,” Killian teased, “isn’t that right, Liam?”

Even the elder Jones couldn’t help laughing and winking at his niece. “Oh, you’re special alright.”

Killian scooped up Alice. “Would you still like me to spray for monsters?”

She fiddled with her father’s collar as she spoke. “But will it hurt the good monsters?”

“Oh no. They’re immune to it.”

Killian continued chatting with his daughter as he carried her back upstairs, and Wendy felt a pleasant warmth settle over her at the sight. She turned back to the table as she took a bite of her apple, ignoring Liam’s gaze. She plopped down in Killian’s vacated seat and absent-mindedly picked up a chess piece.

“Do you play?”

She chuckled. “Oh, no. That I can remember. I don’t like strategy games.”

“It’s odd the things you remember and the things you can’t.”

Wendy looked him dead in the eyes as she set the chess piece down where Killian had placed it. “Are you implying that I’m faking it?”

Liam’s face softened. “No, not at all. I was merely making a comment on how odd brain injuries can be.”

“Oh,” she said, one hand dropping to her lap. She munched her apple and let silence descend for a moment. Then she looked him in the eye again. “So why don’t you like me?”

Liam sighed and ran a hand over his face. “It isn’t you, really. It’s just plain to see that my brother is developing feelings for you.”

Wendy’s face reddened. “I really don’t think -”

Liam cut her off. “Yes, he is, but it isn’t your fault, lass. Killian has a soft spot for those who are lost and hurting. Why do you think he became a vet? Even when our mum was still alive, he was always bringing hurt creatures home to mend, his little eyes welling up with tears. He’s always felt too deeply.”

“How can a person feel too much? He has a big heart - that’s a good thing.”

“It is, and I admire that in him, but it also makes me worry. Feeling so much also brings much pain.”

“Like when your mother died?”

“Aye. Killian was only seven, and it devastated him. Our father, though Killian worshiped him, was a horrible specimen of a person. He cheated on our mother, even when she was dying of cancer. After she was gone, he cared more about his string of mistresses than he did about us. It was left to me to take care of Killian, even though I’m only four years his senior.”

Wendy blinked away tears. “I’m so sorry.”

Liam waved away her sentiment. “We had each other at least. The sad thing was, every woman my father brought around doted on Killian only to disappear from our lives. You can’t blame them. Killian was a cute kid and charming from the day he was born.”

Wendy couldn’t help smiling at the description. “So I’ve noticed.”

Liam, surprisingly, returned her smile. “Then I’m sure you can see how our father’s string of girlfriends adored him as a little boy. He got attached every damn time, only for our father to send them packing when he tired of them.”

Something stirred in Wendy’s chest at those words, and she suddenly lost her appetite. “Where is your father now?”

“Dead,” Liam said, voice devoid of emotion, “wrapped his car around a tree when he was out drinking when Killian was eleven.”

“How awful for both of you!”

“What was truly awful was that we were suddenly orphans. Family services didn’t even bother trying to keep us together. Being fifteen and eleven, we were shuffled around quite a bit, as you can imagine. I was relieved when I turned eighteen and could join the navy. I saved every penny I could so I could put Killian through school when he aged out.”

“You’ve been taking care of him the best you could since you were still a kid yourself.”

Liam nodded. “So you can see my concern, surely. Every woman in Killian’s life has left him, and you’ll do the same no matter what happens. You have a life out there somewhere, maybe even a boyfriend. You’ll go back to that life, and Killian will have been abandoned. Again.”

A headache suddenly gripped Wendy, and the half-eaten apple tumbled from her hand and rolled across the floor. She gripped her temple with both hands. Orphan. Abandoned. Shuffled around. Family services. The words tumbled around her mind like shoes in a dryer - thump, thump, thump - pounding against her skull. She was slightly shocked when Liam rushed to her side and grasped her by the shoulders.

“Wendy? Are you okay?”

The headache left as quickly as it had come. She opened her eyes, squinting against the lights in the kitchen.

“I’m okay,” she told him, “I think I just need to get to bed.”

Liam’s brow was furrowed. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I know, and I don’t want to hurt Killian.”

Liam nodded. “It isn’t a matter of wanting, Wendy. You just will.”

She had no response, so she wearily rose from the table and made her way up the stairs. She was relieved that she didn’t pass Killian on her way up. The story of his difficult childhood broke her heart, and she didn’t think she could bear looking him in the eye right now. When she tumbled into bed, she wet her pillow with tears. Tears for the charming little boy who always got left behind, and tears for herself. For herself because . . . because . . . she didn’t know why she wept for herself. She just felt less like Wendy Darling and more like a lost girl.

#cs ff #cs modern au #snowed in #daddy killian #knightrook #amnesia #angst #pining

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