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#Muse peeked out more today so
stillresolved · 7 months
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ferre makes aesthetics ( 1 / ??? ): kang rian gaya
heiress (n.) one. a woman inheriting and continuing the legacy of a predecessor. two. a woman who is legally entitled to the property or rank of another on that person's death.
( photos do not belong to me. credit for oc goes to @geaesaekki​! )
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pshaven · 5 months
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undercut heeseung as your uni bf texting you to meet him at the Janitor's closet and makes you suck him
well… YES!!! (mdni) (also how did you guys move on from black undercut heeseung im still stuck in paradoxx invasion)
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i’ve always feel like heeseung is the handsy type too… so the moment you step inside his hands are all up on you, from your waist to your chest to your thighs, groping and feeling up whatever he can.
his hands sliding up your shirt when he has you against the door, and he could care less about your squeaks and protests of i have lecture in ten minutes! or i have to meet with the professor for office hours soon!
cause why would you choose going to lecture or office hours over him? not like you could anyway, with the way his lips are attached to your neck and collarbone. he hasn’t even said a word since you walked in, your excuses falling on deaf ears as he moans into your skin.
his hands are now down your shorts, a low growl coming from his chest since the jean material barely lets him through. “thought i told you to wear a skirt this morning,” he mumbles while peppering kisses around your lips, clearly teasing your restraint.
“you’re not the boss of me,” you huff, eyes rolling in irritation as heeseung grins at you, his long fingers finding its way to your clit.
“you wanna be the boss of me today, then?” he hums, his nose nuzzling into the nape of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin.
you ignore him, knowing that his words are basically meaningless. there’s only one way to bring heeseung down a peg— so you turn the two of you around, heeseung’s back hitting the door as you drop to your knees.
he stares down at you, his eyes filling with admiration and lust as you palm him through his jeans. “thought i told you to wear sweats?” you mock him, your tongue peeking out between your lips as you pretend to lick him over his pants.
heeseung tsks at your words, impatiently undoing his belt for you, revealing his boxers and a thick bulge. you smile triumphantly, fingers pulling down the fabric in the way.
“wipe that smile off your face. you owe me from last time, don’t you remember baby?” he smirks down at you, his perfect teeth shining that makes you look away from him in annoyance. he takes his cock into his hand, stroking himself slowly in front of you, his tip purposefully right in front of your lips.
you purse your lips into a pout, brows knitting together as you’re reminded of the other day, heeseung spending your entire lecture hour just eating you out in the very same closet space.
“hmph, you’re kinda bratty today. i dunno if i really like it or not,” he muses, his tip now prodding at your pouted lips. his free hand cupping your jaw, slightly pressuring the sides to signal you to open your mouth.
you don’t answer him, instead opening your mouth and taking him in. you both know well that heeseung doesn’t care whether or not you’re bratty— he likes you no matter what.
he hisses, resting his head against the door as his eyelids lower to look at you. “ffuuck, thats it…” he hums, his thumb rubbing your cheek soothingly as you suck him off.
hallowing your cheeks, you begin to bob your head and let your tongue run lick at his underside of his cock. he sighs like he's seen the light (he might as well have), licking at his own lips as he stares down at you.
you hum around him purposefully, suckling at his tip that causes him to buck his hips into your mouth a little. "ah- yeah, like that," heeseung moans, a bit too loud, like he wants to be caught in your nasty act.
and then he's giving you that look, the desperate, bambi eyes peering at you that tells you he's close. he's never one to last long with you giving him head, his throaty moans and slight whines indicating he's nearing his orgasm.
heeseung is still touchy with you, a hand holding your lower cheek and jaw. you suckle more at his sensitive tip, his moans only getting whinier by the second. you pop your mouth off, your hand replacing your warm mouth as you begin to stroke him.
"oh- i-i'm close," he whispers, barely audible as his chest heaves up and down, breathing heavily. "so fuckin' nasty.. lettin' me use your mouth- hah," ever the chatty when he nears his climax.
you want to snicker a little at his state, but you'd be a hypocrite since your throbbing cunt would prove you're no better. "mmhm," you hum, sticking your tongue out to lap at his tip the way he likes.
a guttural groan leaves his lips, mumbling something about how pretty you look, the effect you have on him is dangerous. his abs tense up underneath his wrinkled up shirt, his free hand grasping at the shelf next to him to keep him somewhat on earth with you.
"fuck-shitshit-!" he curses, eyes screwing shut as his orgasm overwhelms him, your lips wrapping around him last minute to capture every last drop he gives you.
he sighs heavily once you pull away from him, your throat bobbing as you swallow him. "hm, you've been eating more fruits, recently?" you randomly ask him as you stand up, brushing your (probably now bruised) knees.
he gives you a slight nod, "um, yeah? why?"
"tastes good," you inform him, a grin playing on your face.
anddd heeseung feels his cock hardening up again.
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HEY GUYS.... this has been ROTTING in my drafts for FOUR MONTHS... and i'm taking way too long for break the skin (i apologize) so i hope this suffices as a little filler.. hehe
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lubdubology · 4 days
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Soft Edges
SYNOPSIS: Logan doesn't know how to relax. So you help him.
PAIRING: Worst!Wolverine x fem!reader (Although minus the quick blip mention about the Void, you could imagine any Logan you'd like)
WC: 2K
WARNINGS: sexually suggestive innuendos; non-explicit descriptions of nakedness; playful banter; kissing; mild swearing; feeeeeelings; honestly, just tooth rotting fluff
A/N: I haven't written anything four hundred and eighty years seven years and I'm honestly kind of nervous about this. I thought my writing muse was long dead and buried. But here it is, seemingly revived. The idea for this story kind of just fell out of my head when I should have been napping while my toddler napped. The story won out. I hope you like it! <3
You wake with a jolt to the sound of Logan’s alarm blaring from his phone. From beside you comes Logan’s low, “Ah, fuck,” before silence reclaims the room. 
It’s early, the first rays of morning light just barely peeking above the horizon. You roll over and peer over your pillow to find Logan pulling on a pair of jeans. 
“I thought you were off today,” you mumble sleepily, laying your head back down and admiring the way his muscles move as he slips a shirt over his shoulders. 
He looks back at you with a soft smile. “Didn’t mean to wake you,” he says, continuing to dress. “Picked up an extra shift at the yard.”
Since returning from the Void, Logan had picked up a smattering of odd jobs to earn money. A couple of months working at a quarry. A per diem for a local contracting company. Currently a lumber yard thirty minutes outside of town. Despite notoriety for helping save the entirety of existence, some employers still had qualms about hiring someone from another universe. Not that he cared. You think he was just happy being useful. 
You reach for him and pull him down for a kiss. You can feel the curve of his smile against your lips and it’s these soft moments about him you love the most. “Do you even know how to relax?” you ask, snuggling back down against the rumpled sheets. 
“I relax,” he replies, standing up to grab his boots at the end of the bed. 
You can’t help the snort that escapes from you. “Name one thing you to do relax,” you counter, watching through half lidded eyes as he sits back down on the bed to lace up his boots. 
Logan pretends to think about it and then smirks. “You.”
He chuckles as you whip his pillow at him, your aim off as it sails harmlessly past his head and onto the floor. You hide your smile as he looks down at you, his eyes warm but still tired. “Relaxing really ain’t my style, sweetheart.” 
“You deserve it though,” you say, stifling a yawn. 
Logan looks down at you for a moment, his smirk fading as something softer settles in his expression, but he doesn’t respond to your statement. He stands and shrugs on his jacket, straightening out the collar before leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. 
“Go back to sleep,” he murmurs.
You watch him leave and as you settle down to steal a couple more hours of sleep, you hatch a plan to show him just how nice relaxing can be. 
+++
You hum to yourself as you cook, the aroma of roasted potatoes and chicken filling the apartment. You’re just about to start on the green beans when you hear the jingle of Logan’s keys in the lock and the door swings open with a heavy creak. 
“In here, babe!” you call from the kitchen. 
“I could smell this all the way downstairs,” he comments, tossing his keys on the counter. “What’s this for?”
Logan wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you tight against his frame, nuzzling his nose where your neck and shoulder meet. With a smile, you reach back and lightly scratch your nails through the scruff along his jaw. He smells like sawdust and smoke as you press a light kiss to his cheek. 
You savor these moments with him. When you’d first met him, he was distant and wary, years of trauma causing him to be guarded. He warmed up slowly, his touches lingering longer and his words spilling more freely. But now, moments like this—where he’s soft and affectionate—have become more frequent. Logan craves touch and you are more than willing to reciprocate. 
“I thought you could use a nice dinner,” you say, your hand still tracing the line of his jaw. “Long day?”
Logan lets out a low grunt in response, his forehead resting against your shoulder. “One of those days where every idiot with a hammer thinks he can DIY,” he mutters, his breath warm against your skin. 
You smile and give his head an affectionate pat. “Well, you’re home now and I’ve got everything handled here. Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes.”
He pulls back just enough to look down at you, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Sure you don’t need help?”
“You try and help me, and I’ll beat you with this spoon,” you tease. 
Logan laughs and raises his eyebrow. “Promise?”
You smirk, giving him a playful nudge to the ribs with your elbow. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Logan.”
Logan’s eyes crinkle at the corners, the kind of smile that softens all his sharp edges. He gives your waist a gentle squeeze before stepping back, his fingers lingering just a beat longer. “Alright, alright,” he says holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll just go wash up.” 
As Logan retreats to the bathroom, you hear the rustle of him changing out of his work clothes and the thud of his boots as he tosses them to the floor. You finish dinner, resuming your quiet humming as you set the table. You finish plating everything when Logan emerges, work clothes changed for a fresh t-shirt and jeans. 
“Come eat, Lo.”
He joins you at the table and gives you an appreciative look as he sits down. “This smells incredible.”
You sit across from, watching as he takes the first bite, a prickle of anxiety setting along your spine as you wait for his reaction. A low groan of pleasure rumbles in his throat. “Fuck, this is good.”
A grin spreads across your face as he takes several more bites like a man starved. “I experimented with the cast iron skillet,” you comment as you watch him. “Looks like it was a solid impulse purchase.”
The two of you settle into a comfortable rhythm, enjoying the meal and sharing small pieces of conversation. Logan helps himself to seconds and as he finishes, he wipes his mouth with a napkin and sets his gaze on you. “You didn’t have to do this, you know,” he says, his voice low and warm. 
“I wanted to,” you reply simply. “And, like I told you this morning, you deserve it. Let me help you relax, Logan.”
There’s a pause, his expression softening as your words settle over him. You know he’s not one to ask for much and you can tell his savoring this moment. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” His voice is gruff but there’s a tenderness there that makes your chest ache. 
“A good something?”
He smiles. “The best somethin’.”
You finish dinner, swatting him away when he offers to help clean up and banishing him to the living room. Dishwasher loaded and leftovers put away, you join him on the couch. “Care to indulge me once more?”
He quirks his eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”
+++
Logan stares at you dubiously as you lead him to the bathroom and gesture towards the tub. You flash him a grin as a frown tugs at the corner of his mouth. “It’s just a bath, Logan.”
He eyes the tub as if he’s waiting for it to swallow him whole. He crosses his arms across his chest. “I don’t do baths,” he mutters. 
You roll your eyes and place your hand on his chest, gently pushing him further into the bathroom. “Yeah, and you don’t relax either. Just humor me.”
Logan gives you a look—half amused, half reluctant—as he allows you to continue to nudge him closer. He reaches up and scratches at the back of his neck and blows out a sigh. “Fine,” he grumbles, “but only if you join me.”
You laugh softly, leaning up to press a kiss to his chin. “Tough bargain, but I accept.”
You turn from him and run the faucet, letting the tap run until you find the temperature sweet spot. Satisfied, you toss in some bath salts, the scent of eucalyptus quickly filling the room. The tension in Logan’s posture eases as you finish preparing the bath, but he still eyes you like he’s not entirely sure what comes next. 
Once the tub is filled, you shut off the tap and turn back towards him. “Okay, now strip.”
Logan smirks and raises an eyebrow. “Oh, so this is what you really wanted.”
“You’re not that hard to get naked, Logan,” you say with a laugh. 
He chuckles, but follows your instruction, pulling his shirt over his head. As you join him in undressing, you can’t help but admire his physique, his muscles flexing and gliding beneath his skin. You shimmy your panties down your hips as he kicks off his pants, leaving you both bare. 
You feel his gaze heavy on your skin as you step into the tub and beckon him to join you. He steps in, sitting down so his back is against your chest and he lets out a low groan as the warm water envelopes him.  Wrapping your legs around his hips, you cradle him and feel the tension ease from his muscles. 
“See?” you say, leaning to press a kiss to his temple. “Isn’t this nice?”
Logan peeks up at you and smirks. “The naked woman helps.”
You grab a washcloth and dip into the water to dampen it before running it over his chest. “You don’t have to admit you like it,” you say, rubbing the cloth in gentle circles along his collarbones. “You’re basically a wet noodle in my arms.”
He makes a wordless noise in the back of his throat and closes his eyes as you continue to wash him. A comfortable silence surrounds you, soft drops and splashes of water and the faint background hum of your apartment the only noises interrupting your space. You continue to wash him, gently massaging his shoulders, arms, down to the long fingers that know how to play you so well. A deep groan rumbles through his chest as you rub your fingers across the skin in between his knuckles. 
You eventually let the washcloth sink and wrap your arms Logan’s chest. He molds his arms against yours, lacing your fingers together. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. 
You shake your head and hold him just a little tighter. “You do, Logan. Despite your past, you’re a good man and you deserve someone to help shoulder your burdens.” Your voice is sincere as you press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Or least help you relax every once in a while.”
You soak until the water cools just enough to chill your skin. Reluctantly, you untangle yourself from him and nudge him to stand. He’s already got a towel slung low across his hips as you step out and he doesn’t even let you grab your own before pulling you close. 
A yelp dies on your lips as he cradles your face in his hands, thumbs pressing into the corners of your jaw as he tilts your mouth up to him. He inhales deeply through his nose, his lips moving expertly over yours, his tongue seeking the warmth of your kiss. 
You lean into him, your fingers trailing along his ribs and pressing into the damp of his skin. Logan kisses you once more, a gentle press to the corner of your mouth before he lets you go. 
“So,” he starts slowly, “Now that you’ve shown me how you relax, can I return the favor?”
A mischievous gleam dances in his eyes and he doesn’t give you time to answer before slinging you over this shoulder. Your giggles echo down the hallway as he carries you and he kicks open the bedroom door before setting you down on the bed. You scoot back and stare up at him with an expectant glance.
“Alright, sweetheart,” he says with a grin, “My turn.”
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valwrote · 9 months
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MELUSINES ON THE MISSION
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pairing: neuvilette x reader
synopsis: he takes you to Merusea Village for his birthday as a friend, leaves the village with you as his significant other. All thanks to some wingwomen- no melusines.
contains : reader is a baker by profession, fluff, wingwomen melusines, whipped, lovesick neuvilette, mutual pining, corny, neuvillette can deal with anything expect romantic feelings and gestures, spoilers for 4.2 story quest, references to his birthday letter.
a/n : happy birthday to best boi neuvi. he is deffo a lovesick dude and you can't change my mind.
sequel of this fic , but can be read as a stand alone.
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Neuvillette stared at the calender, eyebrows knitted together, pen twirling in his slender fingers.
"Should it be in spring? No that would be inconvenient...same holds true for autumn." He grumbled.
"My Dear Ludex, What's got you so tensed?" Furina chimed in, taking a glance at calender.
"I am trying to settle on a day to serve the purpose of being my birthday." Neuvillette sighed. If only he remembered the actual date. Furina took the pen from his hand and randomly circled a date without sparing a glance.
"18th of December? Why so?"
"My dear Ludex, this is such a trivial matter! Don't waste your energy on this. We must save it for the thrills of the court!" She patted his shoulder and walked off.
18th Decemeber.
That was today.
Neuvillette recalled while signing some documents he had received this morning. He finished up his work and turned around to arrange all the files and declutter the cabinets.
When he glanced back, he saw a small gift on the edge of this table. A smile crept up onto his face as he peeked a bit further to see the head of a melusine sticking out.
"You can stop hiding." He mused as the melusine slowly revealed themselves. Slowly but surely more melusines emerged out of their hiding spots.
"Happy Birthday Monsieur Neuvillette!" They all cheered as Neuvillette had a hearty laugh. The strict and straightforward Chief Justice had a soft spot for the adorable creatures and went to lengths to assure their safety.
"Thank you all. I appreciate your kind gesture." He smiled and picked up the small gift delicately and unwrapped the present. His ears could pick up the melusines muttered amongst themselves.
"...ask him."
"No you ask him!"
"Ask me what?" Neuvillette looked up to see the pleading faces of the Melusines. Yup, they were most definitely trying to persuade him into agreeing to something and Neuvillette knew he couldn't refuse.
"Will you come to Merusea Village this time?" They asked but it sounded more of a demand than a question.
Neuvillette paused. Of course they would ask that. He hadn't visited last year due to the chaos in Fontaine and the death of Focalors. He couldn't bring himself to celebrate his birthday after her death. This time, he agreed on it.
"Sure. I will make sure to extricate myself of my duties and come to Merusea Village." He reassured the Melusines, who bounced up and down in excitement before scurrying out of his office.
Neuvillette sat down and began making preparations so that he could depart worry-free to Merusea Village without any problems arising.
He found his thoughts drifting towards you. A promise he had made you a month ago.
"My schedule is full for the following month. However, I will be sure to pay you a visit after that." He recalled his words to you. Neuvillette had now made up his mind. He was going to take you with him to Merusea Village for his birthday and let all the melusines meet you.
He couldn't help but long for that queasy feeling with stirred in his chest everytime he was in your proximity. He would feel jittery and his palms would feel clammy and sweaty everytime he saw your beaming smile and witty remarks that never ceased to amaze him.
Well that was easier said than done.
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"Would like to accompany me to Merusea Village?" He said before facepalming. "No that would be too straightforward...I might sound authoritative and I don't wish to given off that impression..." Neuvillette had been pacing back and forth in front of the bakery and had been rehearsing the past 15 minutes.
He remained apathetic towards the people who would gasp and mutter at the sight of the Chief Justice's unannounced appearance. "Hello, it is my birthday today and I would like you to accompany me to Merusea Village." Neuvillette said before groaning in annoyance.
"No..if I were to straight away declare that it is my birthday then, it would sound self-centered of me." He muttered, his hand on his chin. "Ah, Yes. Greetings, it has been a long time since we last met. According to our public pronouncements, it is my birthday today and since I take out time each year to visit Merusea Village, I would love for you to accompany m–
"It's your birthday?" You gasped, your sudden appearance catching him off guard. You could see him tense up before turning around and awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.
"Uh erm- yes." He fake coughed to compose himself again. "You should've told me, Monsieur! I would've prepared you a special cake!" You suggested. It would've made up for a good and genuine gift.
"No need for it. I was wondering if you would accompany me–"
"To some place you visit every year on your birthday? Sure! I was just finishing closing up the shop for the weekend, so yes I can accompany you!" You chimed at him. Spending time with Neuvillette, that too on his birthday!? Now that was opportunity you weren't letting go.
You weren't going to admit that you had taken interest in him and wanted to get opportunities to get to know him better but since he was a busy man, this was a perfect opportunity!
"Then let's leave, shall we?" He offered his gloved hand to you. You reached out to take it but he retracted his hand back and instead gestured in the direction you had to walk towards.
You could see his ears turn pink as he started to walk away. You were about to hold his hand? Then why did he back away?? Right someone as high and mighty as the Chief Justice won't settle for a ordinary baker–
You shook your thoughts away and followed him.
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"Monseiur Neuvillette is here!" The Melusines erupted into cheers and circled around him. You could see him smile and pat their heads. Neuvillette's smile had swept your heart off its feet. Your heart swoll at the sight of him smiling, heartily laughing at the swarm of Melusines. Dare you say, you were trying to stop your face from turning red.
"Everyone, meet [Name]. They are my friend and I presumed you would all love to meet them." He gestured towards you as the little melusine heads turned towards you, judgingly.
"Um- hello." You awkwardly smiled. The Melusines seemed to have marked you off their suspicion list considering they had now dragged you away to indulge in their silly activities.
Chasing other melusines, laughing with them, sitting around the bonfire, making flower crowns, it seems like you had a whole new world. You took the crown to Neuvillette. "Monseiur Neuvillette! Look!" You ran up to him as he turned towards you, with a smile lingering on his face.
"Is that a flower crown?" He mused, inspecting the bundle of flowers. You nodded and reached up to put it on his head. However, as you were putting it on his head, you both found yourselves gazing at eachother, fondly.
His eyes said so much despite his face showing so little. You two were unaware of the conversation between the melusines in the background.
"Oui oui! Monsieur Neuvillette definitely likes her!"
"Oui! You are so right, he looks at her in a certain way!"
"Should we help him?"
"Yes!" They all agreed.
"Monseiur Neuvillette! [Name]!" All of them yelled. You and Neuvillette snap out of it and turn your faces away, both of your cheeks flushing a shade of red.
"You guys should stay for a bit longer!" The Melusines tugged on your clothes and his robe. Eyes widen like puppies. Now how could you refuse to those cute faces.
"Sure! I would love too. It is the weekend anyways." You nodded and Neuvillette also agreed.
Now the plan was in full swing.
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Neuvillette went inside the accommodation the melusines had prepared. He walked over to the desk and spotted a neatly kept letter.
Dear Neuvillette,
I wish to tell you that you are really pretty and I find you interesting. I can't seem to find the courage to express it though.
Sincerely,
[Name]
His face flushed red as he did a double take, flipping the letter to assess its legitimacy. The Melusines peeped through the small window, seeing his reaction.
"He is blushing!" One whispered.
"Huh? I never thought those cheesy and corny sentences would actually make him all flushed." Another marveled
"I tried my best okay? It's hard to act like that girl considering we just met her." The third nudged the other.
"You think sending them fake letters is going to work?" The fourth asked.
"Duh!" The first 3 yelled at him.
You, on the hand, were reading the letter given to you over and over again.
Dear [Name],
You seem to have captured my thoughts. I find myself thinking about you every passing moment. However, I don't mind this feeling.
Sincerely,
Neuvillette.
You giggled like a high-schooler with a big fat crush on a ficitional guy. Who knew the Chief Justice was so lovey-dovey! How endearing.
"The plan worked!" The first melusine beamed.
"Both of them hopeless." 2nd one sighed.
"Hopelessly in love!" 3rd one snickered.
"Let's wait and watch." The 4th reminded.
The next day, you both were busy with groups of Melusines, chatting and playing yet both of you kept catching glances at eachother and looked away in embarrassment.
The Melusines rejoiced in their plan of fake letters to both of you, working. This kept on going. Both of you would find a letter in your room each time you came to freshen up or rest.
You and Neuvillette found yourselves blushing and feeling clammy at the letters, unaware of the true sender of these letters, until...
Meet me by the lake, 9pm.
As planned, both of you reached the lake, looking around to find the other. When you caught sight of Neuvillette, your breath was taken away. His white hair framed his fair perfectly and his eyes shined in the moonlight.
"Hello.." you started.
"Hello to you too." He replied. Well this is awkward.
"So um..do you truly believe I am- uh pretty as you mentioned in the letter?" Neuvillette asked, refusing to make eye contact. How fascinating that a man of status and authority is reduced to a flustered mush infront of the person he wishes to be with.
"Huh- what letter? I don't remember sending you a letter." You tilted your head in confusion. You received letters but you never wrote any reply back.
Neuvillette's eyes widened. "Then who sent- oh. The melusines.." he sighed, pinching his nose. "I am so sorry for the inconvenience." He apologized.
"Oh.." you sounded disappointed. So it was a lie then? Neuvillette said any of those sweet words which you had read in the letters. You could feel your heart break and chest ache. How did you manage to fall into this rabbit hole of loving the Ludex of Fontaine only to have your hopes crushed.
"What did they write in the letters given to you?" He calmly asked after a brief moment of silence.
"They said that you kept thinking about me and how you liked me and didn't mind the feeling...it is fine though! I am glad it is a lie hahaha." You waved your hands dismissively.
"..it is true." He blurted out. In his mind, it was now or never.
"Huh?" You stared at him, dumbfounded.
"It is true. I am indeed infatuated with you." You could visibly see his face flush pink. After your brain computed the information, you also turned red.
"I- I feel the same-..I always thought that I was too plain and simple for your liking.." you awkwardly muttered.
"No. It may be inappropriate of me to say this but..I believe that you are just perfect. You are perfect the very way you are, [Name]." The words effortlessly rolled off his tongue, though his flustered face told another story.
You hugged him without a warning, nuzzling your face into his chest. The hug felt warm, like the ocean hugging you with their waves as the sun dawned its warmth on your skin. Neuvillette wrapped his arms around you. You could hear his heart thundering against his chest.
"You like me that much huh?" You wriggled your eyebrows, with a teasing grin.
"Let's not bring that matter up." He huffed, trying to maintain his calm and composed composure. Oh he definitely was feeling giddy but why admit it?
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"We will miss you!" The Melusines whined and fake cried, clinging to your legs as Neuvillette chuckled.
"Well, let's leave, shall we? It is a long walk back." He asked you, a soft smile on his face, his smile lines crinkling. Oh Archons! If only you had a Kamera on you.
"Mhm!" You nodded. He, again offered you his gloved hand, which you took into yours as you both started your journey back.
This time he didn't back away. Instead, he took your hand firmly in his and walked away, together, with you by his side.
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a/n : happy birthday dear Neuvillette. Gosh i love this man so much, it's unhealthy. I can listen to him talk for hours about different tastes of water.
not proof read.
don't copy, plagiarize, repost.
©definitelysel
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1K notes · View notes
softbeej · 7 months
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may I request riding alastors thigh? its okay if not ^^!! no rush!!
you may!! :D also got a big praise kink-y on accident!
Sweet Dreams (Alastor x Reader)
You didn’t know what time it was when you heard feather light rapping on your bedroom door, but you could only assume it was gone midnight. Barefoot, you trudged to the door and opened it, mind still foggy with sleep. 
No one was there.
You even peeked out in the hallway, but still no one.
This could mean one of two things; either it was Angel pulling a stupid prank, or it was Alastor.
As if on cue, your radio buzzed to life.
“Are you awake, deary? Come up to the tower and pay me a visit, would you?”
Then, it turned off. You smiled to yourself. This is how Alastor had taken to communicating with you without disturbing anyone else. He’d send a shadow down to grab your attention (He couldn’t feel guilty for waking you if it wasn’t actually him, right?), then, he’d talk through the radio. It’s strangely charming you thought to yourself as you yanked on slippers and wrapped yourself up in a robe before making the short walk up to the radio tower.
He was sat lazily on a desk chair when you arrived. His blazer shrugged off and was hanging over the seat, tie loose and top button undone. It was weird seeing him like this, you had to admit, but it was endearing seeing him so relaxed and at ease. It also made you feel slightly warm and fuzzy how he was beginning to let his guard down around you. 
“Everything okay, Al?”
He turned in his chair and smiled, head resting on his hand, “Fine and dandy, dear! I haven’t seen you all day, just wanted to check in.” 
His eyes were lidded, you couldn’t tell if this was due to lust or exhaustion (though it was probably both), and his grin seemed sleepier than usual. He patted his lap, beckoning you toward him. You happily followed, dropping your robe unceremoniously on the hardwood floor leaving you in your pyjamas. You straddled his thigh facing him, and he gave you a short chaste kiss on the lips before wrapping his arms around you.
“I do wish you’d visit me more up here. I can so easily loose track of time...”
“I know, I know. I just never want to bug you if you’re busy! That’s all...”
He kissed your hand, “Don’t be silly. You’re always welcome up here. Sometimes a distraction is just what I need...”
You hadn’t noticed but his hands had travelled down to your hips, claws leaving invisible little scratches behind. He’d also slowly started gently rocking you on his thigh so slowly it hadn’t done registered until he picked the pace up. You giggled a little bit when you realized what he was doing and he just smiled up at you. 
“What? I’m just making sure you get a bit of attention! Think of it as an apology for me leaving you all day, hm?”
You gave in and melted into him, your panties getting more and more sodden with each of his words. You continued riding him as he kept teasing you.
“My, oh my. You really must of missed me, look how needy you are! Well, we’ll make sure you get taken care of, hm?”
You nod, and he started tapping his foot on the ground causing vibrations to shoot through your core. You reached for the zipper on his dress pants, but he brushed you off. “Not today, dear. Just let me take care of you, yes?”
Your hands instead moved up to his chest, half to balance you and half to just touch him. He kept bouncing you incessantly as you ground down on his thigh. You were sure his leg was soaked by now, but he honestly just seemed too tired to care. You kept letting out little mewls as you rocked back and forth, the whole time his gaze never leaving yours. 
“You really needed this, didn’t you? You look so pretty like this, like an angel.” He mused.
Your breathing hitched, “Ah... Close...”
He nodded understandingly, tightened his grip on your hips and bounced his knee slightly more violently, “You can cum, Darling. Don’t have to wait for permission... Not today, at least...”
You melt into him as you came, almost collapsing but he held you up. He helped you back to your feet and after checking that your knees definitely weren’t about to buckle, gathered your gown and draped it back over your shoulders before you both left his tower and retired back to the hotel. 
“You’re probably as tired as I am after that...”
“Sleep with me?”
Instead of insisting he slept in his own bed, he silently walked past his bedroom door and obediently followed you to yours.
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eraenaa · 5 months
Text
Desperate Requirement (Hogwarts AU)
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Slytherin Aemond Targaryen x Reader Tag List
Synopsis: It’s hard being horny at Hogwarts. Luckily, you and Aemond always found a way to relieve your needs.
Warnings: Barely any plot; just smut, Mature, 18+, Oral Sex (F & M receiving), Fingering, Handjob, P in V sex, Semi-Public Relations, Shower Sex, Very Horny Aemond, Not Proofread
Word Count: 2,660
A/N: I really wanted to do Aemond in Hogwarts because when I first watched HOTD, I was just recovering from my Draco Malfoy phase.
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“Aemond,” You called, voice distracted and heavily laced with pleasure as his lips were on your neck and his cold hands were hiking up the hem of your skirt higher and higher. “We… we can’t do this here,” You called, your hands tangling in his hair, not at all making any move to push him away and hinder where your actions were leading. You were pushed up against the door of one of the many broom closets in the castle. Aemond pulled you in there as you were on your way to your next class. His actions made you completely forget about the spell in charms you stayed up to study the night before. “The professor is still in a meeting… they’ll be late. Why not capitalize on the opportunity?” He said against your skin, his hand going to your waist to pull you closer to him.
Your eyes fluttered to a close as lips returned to suck on your sensitive skin, making certain to leave a mark. Already amused, he thought about which way you would once again hide them. Will you cover them with those pastes you smuggled from the muggle world? Or perhaps will you, once again, constantly wear your house scarf even though the weather or setting did not reacquire it. Maybe you’ll surprise him and be bold enough to show all the marks Aemond intended to give you to mark his territory. 
You sighed as his hands tried to unbutton your shirt; when his cold touch grazed the warm skin of your chest, your sensibilities returned. “I—I can’t be intimate with you here,” You whispered and pushed Aemond away. “Why not? Just earlier today, you were straddling me in my bed so I would not leave,” Aemond mused, recalling the scene that initially made him yearn for you so harshly at this hour of the day. “Well, that was in the privacy of your room! Anyone can walk in here and catch us! A student, a house elf— Merlin forbid, a professor!” You said and tried to push Aemond away but he would not have it. “Please, darling, just…” Aemond whispered, and you tried not to grow soft at the slight tone of begging in his voice. “Aemond,” you sighed as he took hold of your wrist and guided it downwards, making you feel the need in him. 
You moaned quietly as you felt his hard length, proving that he needed you so greatly.  You could no longer restrain yourself as you palmed his length through his trousers, hisses coming from his lips as you pleasured him through the fabric of his uniform. Cold hands found their way to your breasts, kneading the mounds and making you bite your lip as wetness gathered at your cunt. “Aemond… oh, Aemond,” You sighed, tilting your head back as one of his cold hands trailed downward and cupped your heat. His fingers rubbed your sensitive bundle of nerves as you continued to palm his throbbing length. Your breathing mixed as your stifled moans and sighs echoed through the broom closet, the both of you reaching your peaks even though your skin had not actually touched. Aemond panted harshly as he spilled himself in his uniform, the spot where his seed gathered turning a darker shade. 
“Scourgify,” you took your wand from your robe and uttered the enchantment. Aemond gave you a lazy smile as his sapphire-colored eye was still hazy from his release. You breathed out a sigh as his lips found yours once more, his tongue teasing your bottom lip and seeking entrance, but you could not be distracted anymore. “We have to go,” You pushed him away and turned to open the door, peeking out your head to make certain that no passerby would see the both of you emerging from the utility room. The both of you reached charms class at the nick of time. Your cheeks flushed, and your neck was covered by your wool scarf even though it was unseasonably warm. Aemond sat beside you, demeanor more lax and a satisfied smirk on his thin lips, and his hand resting on your upper thigh throughout the whole of the lesson. Effectively distracting you from the professor’s lecture. 
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You watched Aemond through the whole of his quidditch practice. You savored the way how focused he was trying to catch the snitch. Not missing the stunts he did to impress you nor the suggestive looks he’ll give when he passes you. By the end of their practice, your lip was between your teeth, and your legs were tightly crossed to relieve the need that had gathered in the past two hours of watching him fly around the quidditch pitch. 
You quickly made your way down from the pitch minutes before they dismounted their brooms. You sneaked your way into the locker rooms to wait for Aemond. He was the captain of the Slytherin team, and one of the benefits of that was he had his own private shower stall and dressing room to change in. You bit your lip as you stood in the shower stall, hearing the distant sound of footsteps and chatter from the team. Your breathing hitched as Aemond’s voice was drawing closer, him lecturing one of his teammates about the game, clearly aggravated and frustrated. It would seem this endeavor would serve him beneficially. You bit your cheeks as Aemond’s words died on his tongue as he saw you standing stark naked in his shower stall, waiting for him. 
He waved off his teammate and did not waste a second before wrapping his arms around you and placing his lips against yours. Your heart stuttered as you realized his tense and rugged figure turned putty in your arms, the frustrations you felt oozing from him miraculously disappearing. You sighed as you two were enveloped in the hot water, your lips never parting even though it was a bit of a struggle to breathe. You gasped in shock as Aemond hoisted you on his waist, pushing you against the tiled wall and aligning his length in your entrance. “You wouldn’t let me fuck you in the privacy of the closet, but you would happily let me have my way with you here? In the men’s bathroom, with my teammates just in the distance? How lewd had you become?” Aemond mused as you very slowly sank down on his cock, him making sure to catch every little reaction you would make as your cunt was once again filled by him. 
You whimpered and moaned as you were fully filled by him, Aemond hissing as the tip of his cock rested perfectly in the spongey spot of your cunt. The spot that made your eyes roll back in your head and your back arch. “You have to be quiet, my darling… wouldn’t want to be caught now, would you?” Aemond hummed, his hands gripping your bottom, and his hips thrust to meet yours, your moans spewing quietly into the side of his neck as you buried your face there. “Aemond, what’s taking you so long?” His brother Aegon screamed from the locker room. “Give me a minute!” Aemond yelled but his tone was laced with concentration that made his other teammates suspicious. “Is he having a fucking wank?” You heard one of his teammates ask, and Aemond buried his cock deep inside, his lips continuing his torment on the side of your neck. 
“Aemond… oh, I’m… fuck, I’m coming,” You moaned, dazed by the pleasure he gave. Aemond bit his lip as he moved one of his hands to cover your mouth, already knowing that you were ready to scream when you reached your peak. It truly was flattering for him to hear you scream out in pleasure; his name would always be uttered as you came, but he could not let the two of you be found in such a state. You panted against his hand, dazed eyes watching him tilt his head back as he came deep inside you, quiet groans leaving his lips. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” Aemond sighed and kissed your lips, then your cheeks, as you slowly unwrapped your legs around his waist. The two of you were sweaty from the endeavor, but luckily, the shower was just there. 
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“Stop it.” You gritted lowly as Aemond’s hand trailed upward your skirt. You were attending your Defense against the Dark Arts class, but Aemond was determined to distract you from the important lesson. “I need you,” he whispered in your ear as the professor was turned away from the class; you quietly whimpered as he nipped your ear after he whispered the words. “Pay attention; the O.W.Ls are near.” You whispered even though his small action caused you to need as well. Aemond grunted and returned his attention to the lecture, but now you, too, were distracted as well, need pooling between your legs as his hand never left your thigh, only inching higher and higher. 
You bit your lip and raised your hand, excusing yourself to go to the lavatory. “Meet me in the second-floor prefect’s washroom,” You whispered to Aemond after, a sly smirk adorning his lips as you left. You waited impatiently for Aemond to appear, and when he did, you grabbed him by the necktie to smash your lips together. “Hurry, they’ll get suspicious,” You muttered as you two were squished together in a stall. Your fingers tried to undo his trousers, but you frowned as he nudged your hands away, and he instead sank to his knees. “Aemond, what ar—“ You could not finish your thought as he hiked up your skirt and pushed your undergarments to the side so his lips could meet your cunt. 
Moans quickly spewed from your lips, no matter how hard you tried to stifle them. You looked down to see Aemond grinning up at you, his fingers pushing themselves into you. “So fucking wet… you could never resist me, now can you, my darling?” He hummed, then sucked on your bundle of nerves, making you moan louder. “Aemond!” You cried as he curled his fingers, the sound of your wetness and moans echoing through the empty lavatory. “Fuck, you’re so good…” You uttered as you felt your core tighten with the same need for release. His name once again spewed from your lips as you came on lips. You hummed in satisfaction as his lips met yours, tasting your essence on his tongue. 
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“You look gorgeous, my darling,” Aemond smiled as he spun you around. The great hall was decorated for the occasion. The Yule Ball was probably your favorite event at Hogwarts. “You look quite handsome yourself,” You smiled as you gazed up at him. You rested your head on his shoulder as you two swayed to the slow tune of the dance, his hand firmly on your waist. You sighed in contentment as you were in the arms of the boy you had loved since your first day in Hogwarts. “Do you want to get out of here?” You asked quietly as the dance floor became more crowded. Aemond was quick to agree and took hold of your hand to escort you out of the great hall, finding an empty carriage so the two of you could enjoy each other’s company in privacy. 
Your lips danced their familiar dance as Aemond’s hold on your waist was threading upwards and nearing the valley of your breast. Your hands moved to rest upon his thigh, but you gasped in shock and embarrassment as the carriage door flew open, a professor catching the both of you. “Ten points each will be deducted from your house. Now go back to the hall,” they sternly said, and you and Aemond hurriedly disembarked the carriage, your cheeks flaming red in embarrassment. 
You returned to the castle, turning to Aemond wide-eyed as he tried his hardest to stifle his laughs. “Don’t laugh! That was mortifying!” You said, but Aemond shook his head and cupped your heated cheeks. “You looked so adorable,” He laughed and gave your lips a kiss. You breathed in deeply as your heart stuttered at the way he looked at you with adoration. “Where do we go now? The rooms are locked, even our dorms,” You sighed as you two stood in an empty hallway. “Here?” Aemond suggested, but you scrunched up your brows at his ludicrous suggestion. You chewed on your cheeks as the need for Aemond was evermore present. “The astronomy tower?” He asked as you rested your head on his chest, your gaze downward, seeing that he, too, needed you badly. “No, it’s too cold,” You sighed and his arms wrapped around your frame. 
All of a sudden, you hear the sound of light debris falling to the ground. Aemond frowned and took out his wand, preparing for an attack. Your brows furrowed as the empty wall in the hallway started to transform. The blank bricks reveal chiseled carvings and, ultimately, a door opened for the both of you. Your lips gaped, and you turned to Aemond, “Did… did we just summon the room of requirement?” You asked in disbelief. Aemond pulled you into the summoned room that housed a bed and fireplace. You were still in shock that you two had found the room that you thought was a hoax, but shock could not be properly comprehended as his lips were on yours again. Your bodies trailed over to the bed as your articles of clothing were tossed to the floor. You sat by the edge of the bed, gazing up at Aemond whose lips were parted as your hand was wrapped around his length. 
You hear him his as your lips wrap around the tip of his length, your eyes still locked on his as you take in his length deeper into your mouth. “Fuck, darling, you look so pretty with your lips around my cock,” Aemond hummed and cupped your cheek, which was hollowed as you sucked his length. You gagged as the tip of him hit the back of your throat, his loudly groaning at the sensation. You continued on, tears spilling at the side of your eyes, “Such a good girl taking my cock,” Aemond praised as he abruptly pulled out of your cock. He, without warning, turned you around and let your stomach hit the soft mattress, your bum in the air as he squeezed them harshly. 
You let out a loud moan as he plunged his length deep inside you, the wetness you had gathered making lewd noises that accompanied your moans and the crackling fire. “You like that? You like it when I fuck you from behind, don’t you, my darling?” Aemond grunted, his hands gathering your hair and lightly pulling it. The pain adds to your pleasure, and it translates to your walls clenching tightly around him. You could only moan as Aemond’s cold hand reached downwards, and his slender fingers started to draw circles upon your nubbin, your moans growing louder. Begging him for release as your knees dug into the soft, feathered bed and your hands fisted the sheets. 
Aemond felt his release coming as well. He momentarily stopped his thrust to turn you around, wanting to see your pretty face as you came undone and as he filled your cunt with his seed. You feel his weight atop you and his lips against yours. “Aemond… Aemond!” You cried as you came hard on his cock. Your lips moved to his shoulders, and your teeth bit down on his flesh, making him groan in pained pleasure, urging him to spill himself inside you a bit earlier than he had wished. 
Aemond collapsed atop your bare body, sweaty limbs intertwined. “Aemond?” You called, trying to catch your breath. “Yes, my darling?” He asked, “I still need you,” You said and heard him chuckle, moving to kiss your lips and moved to oblige your needs once more. 
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httpsryu · 6 months
Text
muse? pt. 4
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pairing: kang haerin x fem newjeans!reader
summary: getting a new member way long after debut and before a comeback isn't really the best idea to haerin
category: enemies-to-lovers (?), kpop idol au
genre: slow burn, angst, and fluff
warnings: a bit frustrating and A LOT of jealousy
a/n: i appreciate all the love muse has gotten so far! tysm everyone :)
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With a small sigh, you proceed to walk into the dressing room, following your hair and makeup stylists. Seeing the fellow '06 liner, you can't help but to already roll your eyes knowing she's probably going to say some remark to you. 
"I would think you've gotten lost or something." Haerin immediately starts upon seeing you at the doorway. 
Huddling the already soaked towel around your frame, you can't help but chatter your teeth. "I think I'm knowing my way around this building since we were here pretty early." 
"Hmm. Good for you." Haerin shuts her eyes for the makeup artist to do her eye makeup. 
You can't help but to let out another very obvious eye roll at the other. 
"Y/N-shi, inside the changing room, there's a new outfit for you to change into." Your makeup stylist says, handing you another warm towel to which you immediately reach out for.
You bow at the older lady, thanking her with a smile before disappearing off into the changing room.
Haerin watches through the mirror, the door closing. She's still thinking about how there was a glowing energy around you, you're a different vibe when it comes to work.
However, Haerin will never admit that. Never in her life.
"Y/N-shi did amazing today." Haerin's stylist starts to talk to the other stylist. "I was so amazed at how well she grasped the cameras!"
"She used to be in a pre-debut show with other SM trainees." The other said, getting your seat ready and making it comfortable for you. "I heard that Min Hee-Jin wanted to bring Y/N with her after leaving SM but the other upper people didn't let her."
Haerin goes on her phone, pretending to not "care" about whatever the two pretty unnies are gossiping about.
"Really?!"
"Yes! She practically grew up in Min Hee-Jin's arms." The other explains, looking over and making sure each makeup product is sitting on the makeup table. "Apparently, not only did she grew up in Min Hee-Jin's arms but also in Yoo Young Jin's arms, he only trains the special trainees."
The cat-like female controls herself from rolling her eyes; yet again. Everyone is praising you for being this special star but why has Haerin not seen it yet? This supposed star that Min Hee-Jin went through lengths of bringing over here messes up the easiest part of the choreography?
Haerin doesn't get it; she really doesn't.
It pisses her off even more.
And because it pisses her off, something in her is intrigued by you.
"Unnie?" You call out from the changing room.
Haerin's stylist cannot help but to let out a small 'awe' at the tone of your voice.
"Yes, Y/N-shi?" Your stylist responds, coming over to stand in front of the changing room. "Is everything okay?"
You immediately panic at that statement, looking over in the mirror at the small rip in your dress. Only the second day of being in the group and you've already ruined a dress.
"Something happened to the dress."
"What's wrong?"
You opened the door slowly, peeking your head out with a derpy smile. "There's a rip in the dress."
"Let me see?"
With some shyness in the steps of your feet, you walk out the changing room.
Haerin almost feels her breath hitch at the sight of you in the mirror, her eyes looked at you, trailing from head to toe. Somehow, just somehow you manage to look stunning with wet hair and the "ripped" dress.
Wow.
This doesn't get past the pretty unnie who just finished up the last final touches of both Haerin's hair and makeup. She lets out a silent giggle at how cute the two groupmates are.
"Hmm, we don't have any backup dresses but..I think we can work with this somehow." Your stylist thinks, rushing out the room.
"Haerin-shi, take care of Y/N-shi. We'll be right back shortly." Haerin's stylist says before shortly following the other out in need of aid.
The feline-like female sighs once again. "You cause trouble everywhere you go."
"Here we go again.." You shake your head in astonishment, genuinely surprised at how someone could ruin the mood SO FAST. "Let me give you a word of advice. you should change your personality. no one would ever like someone who’s fussy and sensitive.”
Haerin snaps her head to turn at you. “I won’t ever ask you to like me, so don’t worry.” 
“Who says I'm worried? Stick close to your words, Haerin."
Haerin could only stare back at you, blinking blankly. She opens her mouth to say something but nothing ends up coming out of her mouth. She lets out a huff silently before turning back around and paying attention to her phone.
"Always trying to start something." You grumble under your tone, which does NOT go pass the cat-eyed female.
Haerin is starting to feel ticked off.
First, she had to wake up early in the morning to do a reshoot for the album (keep in mind that these photos were taken a couple months ago). Second, as if the company wanted to torture her enough, she got assigned with you for the duo shoots (which wasn't even a thing til now because of six members). Lastly, you just LOVE to mumble stuff knowing that she can hear.
Before Haerin could say anything, the two stylists enter the dressing room with various of ribbons and different fabrics to layer over the slight tear.
"Y/N-shi, you can help in the decision of which one looks well with the dress."
The cat-eyed female is a bit curious, so she constantly darts her pupils back and fourth with the screen of her phone and the reflection of you and the two pretty older ladies through the mirror. And somehow, Haerin's eyes focuses on you more than her phone.
Your stylist holds up a pretty piece of pale pink lace and Haerin feels her throat dry up in the back at how pretty the pink looks against you.
"Haerin-shi, what do you think?" Haerin's stylist questions, smiling a bit too wide.
You look up at your group mate in anticipation on what she'll say.
"It's pretty."
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The oldest member watches the couple shoot between Haerin and you with her arms crossed in dissatisfaction. Anyone could tell that Haerin and you don't get along like the others.
"Haerin-shi, could we have you whispering something in Y/N-shi's ears? Like you're telling her a secret only for the two of you." The director suggests, hoping the shot will turn out beautiful like the how the others did.
You can't help but to feel a sense of electricity at how close the two of you are.
Haerin fights her eye roll back, scooting a bit more closer towards you and she holds up her hand besides your ear. She slowly moves her face to your ear, she's a bit nervous and uncomfortable with how close this is.
"Y/N-shi, could you tilt your head towards Haerin-shi a bit more?"
Listening to the directions given to you, you move a bit too close but a butterfly leads you to move a bit too far to where Haerin accidentally kisses your cheek. Both girls turn pink at the sudden contact, looking shy afterwards.
What just happened?
However, this shot comes out perfect.
Minji smiles in satisfaction, pushing down the bitter taste in the back of her mouth.
"No fair!" Hanni protests, sitting down on the picnic blanket in a tantrum-like manner as she watches with envy at Haerin and you.
Danielle could only pat the back of her group mate while she too holds back the bitter taste in the back of her throat with a pout.
Hyein can only shake her head at the way the others are acting. "They are so down bad."
Both Haerin and you pull apart immediately after the accidental kiss.
"S-sorry." You apologize, playing with the grass in your hands while looking down to avoid looking at her.
She clears her throat, rubbing the back of her nape in embarrassment. "It's whatever."
Another shot came out perfect.
"They're naturals at this." Your manager views the photos, impressed with how they're looking so far.
The director and staff all nod in agreement at how the two of you look so perfectly paired up.
"There's something in your hair." Haerin points out, prompting you to look up as you brush your hand through your hair. "No, it's there. Careful, you might take off your headpiece."
"Here?"
The feline-like female lets out a small silent laugh, bringing her hand up to fix the falling elf-ears. Fixing your hair afterwards.
"Thanks."
She hums in response.
"Oh! Haerin is so going to get it for trying to get to MY woman!" Hanni fists the blanket in her hand in frustration.
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Being in the van close to midnight is a nightmare for the girls. All they want to do is eat and go to bed. Yet, here they are. Stuck in traffic on the busiest road in Seoul.
"Unnie, I'm so hungry." Hyein whines to Danielle, laying her head down on the older's shoulders.
Danielle could only pat the youngest's head to console her. "We'll be home soon."
Haerin looks from the rear view's mirror of the van from her seat, noticing you asleep. Minji, being the oldest she is, besides you as she keeps trying to protect your head from falling into the windows.
Wait; did she just put your head on her shoulders?
"OMG NO!" Hanni whisper-shouts, looking at her ex-roommate in frustration. "Minji is making moves on MY Y/N."
There goes the Vietnamese's delusions again. Haerin wants to just roll her eyes at the way Hanni keeps claiming you as hers. Since when were you a property?
"She sleeps so peacefully." Danielle softly speaks, looking over at you with pureness in her eyes. Oh, how she wishes you were the one laying on her shoulder.
Hyein fights back a giggle at the way everyone is acting.
"She's my roommate at the end of the day." Haerin flatly says, inserting her headphones in to not get bothered and bombarded questions about why she just said that.
Haerin doesn't know either.
Why does she feel the need to tell everyone that you're her roommate? Like why did she even bring it up?
Resting her head against the window, the cat-eyed girl couldn't help but to let her mind flashback to the accidental kiss. Her lips softly grazing against the plumpness of your cheeks. Haerin brings her fingers to her lips again and she can't help but to smile a little over the moment from earlier.
Realization seeps in and her smile drops, eyes blank as she returns back to her usual expression and shuts her eyes. Drowning herself in the music coming from her headphones and traveling into her ears. (in the back of her mind; she doesn't know why her stomach is feeling funny).
"I think Haerin thinks Y/N is cute." Hyein smiles at the others, gulping nervously at the three girls' expressions.
The bang-haired girl waves her hand, brushing it off. "Yeah right."
"No. I'm being serious." The youngest defends her case. "She just doesn't know it yet herself."
The oldest of the bunch shrugs carefully, not wanting to wake you up. "It's only been the 2nd day, who knows?"
"Come on~ everyone knows Y/N is quite cute." Danielle says, understanding Haerin. "And Haerin does like pretty girls."
Hanni rolls her eyes, covering her ears with her hands. "Stop. Stop. Stop. She's my pretty girl, though."
Hyein sarcastically shakes her head while sighing. "Y/N unnie is actually mines, so..."
The other three could only look at her, assuming that it may be a part of puberty.
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Pacing back in and out of the shared bathroom in the room, Haerin wonders if she should wake you up to freshen up. Each time she walks out the bathroom, she's met with you peacefully sleeping and she doesn't dare wake you up with how content you look in your bed.
BUT, there's practice tomorrow! If anything, Haerin would not want you messing up tomorrow. AT ALL.
With full decision in her mind, she strides towards your sleeping figure.
"Hey. Wake up." She taps on your shoulder repeatedly. "We have practice tomorrow."
Opening your eyes tiredly, you're met with your member peering over you. And somehow in the dim light of the bedroom, she looks somehow angelic and not annoying like the past day. If only she looked like this all the time, perhaps you would be able to tolerate the introverted member.
Haerin's eyes widen at the sudden eye contact you and her both made, backing away.
"It's 2 in the morning, I figure you'd want to wash up before going back to bed." She rubs the back of her nape, looking at the ground. "We have practice tomorrow."
Letting out a small incoherent noise, ultimately, you listen to your roommate and sit up from the bed. "Thanks."
"You need to get better at knowing the schedules." The other states, walking back to her side of the room. "I may be your member but it's up to you whether you want this spot on the team or not."
Too out of energy to defend yourself, you let out a nod before vanishing into the bathroom. Leaving Haerin wondering why you didn't argue back with her.
Could everything be okay with you? Perhaps, was Haerin a bit mean to you? Not that she cared or anything.
She was only just warning her; she has no idea why you would be upset by her words. The cat-eyed girl shakes her head to forget all about it and keep her mind CLEAR from you. She DOES NOT want you to be the last thought in her head before going to bed.
That sounds like a definite nightmare.
Charging her phone, she places it on the bedside table before drowning herself into her covers. Shutting her eyes to get some rest for tomorrow's day, your face suddenly pops up.
The raven-haired female immediately opens her eyes in a frantic state. What the hell? She sits up, trying to process what just happened. Alarmed and frightened, she gets out of bed to walk out to the kitchen for some air.
Grabbing some water from the fridge, Haerin could only chug it down in hopes of being able to sleep and it was all just a fragment of imagination because she was EXTREMELY drained and over-worked.
"Rin?" Jihye comes walking down the halls to a rare sight of Haerin. "Everything alright?"
Haerin shuts the fridge, smiling at her best friend to not worry her. "Of course."
"How's Y/N? Is she sleeping well?" The Australian asks, walking over to grab a cup of milk. "I hope she's not too exhausted, she just got here and she's getting into all these schedules all of a sudden."
The other could only roll her eyes, agitated at how other other girls are worrying about you. After all, you're her roommate not THEIRS. So why does it matter that you end up being on her best friend's mind at the end of the night.
"After the concept photos, I think I saw her in a new light." Jihye shyly confesses, looking down at the cup of milk with a soft smile. "She's just so fresh, I don't know how to describe it."
"Do you have a crush on her or something?"
The curly-haired couldn't help but to giggle lightly. "Of course not."
That was the biggest lie Jihye could've ever said.
"Good."
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prev. part ----- next. part
finally finally pt. 4 is up!!
taglist: @xszn , @airice , @nnewjeansstuff , @xeiinpain , @jiwoneric , @brocoliisscared , @ilamara , @linnnsworld , @gayforall , @lorsstar1st , @haechansbbg , @dhdhdjjf , @hyejin67 , @mushroom-main , @ilovekimminji , @justme-idle , @kyuusberry , @masuowo , @iraa567 , @shycreationdreamland , @idunnofr , @imahybridicannotbekilled , @twicesserafim, @awkwardtoafault 
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whore-ibly-hot · 1 year
Text
Yan!Bully x Reader x Yan!Freak Pt 2
"Boys Night Plus One."
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18+ Minors DNI
Warnings: Bullying, name calling, degradation, violence, non-consensual photos, nonconsensual touching, male pronouns for the yans, mentions of school, general perversion, toxic behaviors, creep behavior, cum, masturbation, male and female genitalia.
Part 1 here
(AN: This one is for you, anon who sent me a bullet-point list of some ideas for Ahmed and Patrick which were better than anything I could have come up with. I love you.)
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You groan, struggling to yank off the cotton top you had taken to wearing for PE class. You had been sick for a week or so, and in order to stay up on your grades you had been doing classwork after school. Today, you are making up some time for gym class using the school's exercise facilities. Once you finally get it off, you unlock your locker and put your gym clothes inside, reapplying your deodorant and putting on your school shirt. Just as you shut your locker, you hear the door of the girl's locker room flap shut, and you perk up at the sound. That's odd, after a few days of working out after school, you've never run into anyone else using the facilities.
"Hello?" You call out, peering around the row of lockers. Suddenly, a fist slams into the locker behind you, making you shriek. You whip around, to see Patrick, the schools most notorious bully laughing his ass off at how spooked you got. "Patrick!" You yell, smacking him lightly. "Ooh, feelin' fiery, huh?" He takes a breath, calming himself after laughing so hard. "What's got you so pissed off?" You roll your eyes.
"You scared me, and you're in the girls locker room!" He fakes shock, and looks around. "Really, the girls locker room? Huh, wonder how I wound up here..." He muses, playfully leaning up against the lockers. "If it was the boys locker room, why would I be here?" You ask. He shrugs. "I don't know, maybe you were tryna' sneak a peek at some dudes after football practice." He grins, leaning over you a little more. "Or maybe you wanted one of them to sneak a peek at you." You blush, and push him away. "Go away, Patrick, there's no reason for you to be here right now." You try to quickly gather your things, and make your way to the door.
"Woah, woah, hey, where ya' going? I'm just checking on you. You haven't been to class lately, I was getting worried." He uses your moment of surprise to grip your wrist and gently pull you back over. "I was sick, just needed some time away from class. Why does that matter to you?" You ask, confused. He's always enjoyed tormenting you, and you would think you were special if he didn't also torment everyone else. Of course, Patrick knows where you've been, because he's had Ahmed posted outside your bedroom for the duration of your absence, both to get photos and make sure you aren't hanging out with anybody else. He shrugs again. "I missed seeing you in these." He reaches into your gym bag, gripping one of the pairs of gym shorts and pulling them out. "Y'know, I don't think these follow the dress code..." Admittedly, you needed to get some new shorts. These ones were small, but you just hadn't gotten around to buying new ones. "Gym class is already fuckin' boring, especially when I can't see your sweet little ass bent over, trying to do toe-touches or yoga or whatever the fuck we're supposed to in that sweaty shit-hole."
You only blush and grab the shorts from him, stuffing them back into your bag. "Well, I'm sure you managed fine without me. There's plenty of girls to perv on that aren't me." You whimper. Patrick chuckles, and shakes is head. "Yeah, but I don't want any of them." He pauses, then clicks his tongue. "That reminds me though, I did make a friend while you were gone. I had a lot of free time since you weren't around to play with." You glance up at him. "Another member of your gang?" You ask. The last thing this school needs is even more assholes hanging out with Patrick. "Nope. It's someone I knew before you left, but I've made amends with them. Patched things up, self-improved." He brags. He looks down at you smugly. "You should be proud of me, I'm a changed man."
"What do you mean?" You aren't sure what previous acquaintance he's referring to. Due to Patrick's widespread terror, it could be pretty much anyone. "You know that new kid, Ahmed?" Your mouth opens in shock. You had heard things about the new boy, with dark hair and wide eyes. You had noticed him a few times in English class. He was always quiet, only occasionally speaking when he was being picked on by the other kids, quietly protesting the abuse. You had traded poetry a few times for an assignment. He seemed very creative. You weren't really sure why the other kids picked on him so much, but you suspected it was because Ahmed was Patrick's new favorite. You had heard of the things he'd done to Ahmed, robbing him, beating him, stealing his classwork. You didn't do anything, how could you? Patrick hated when people stood up to him, and you didn't want his attention on you anymore than it was.
"You're... friends with him now." Patrick nods. "That's cruel, Patrick. You can't do all that stuff to somebody, then force them to play friends with you. It's not right!" You exclaim, boldly defying him for a moment. He only exhales lightly, and puts his hands up in surrender. "You got it all wrong, baby. We are friends, me and him. We've made amends. I told you, I'm changing. I'm a reformed juvenile." He looks up to see if you're buying it. He pouts when he notices you still seem skeptical. "Alright, I guess I'm not 'reformed', exactly, but me and him really are friends now." You only nod, hoping he will drop it and go away. This reaction makes him scoff. "You still don't believe me? Fine, I'll tell you what. I'm going over to see Ahmed at his house tonight, to hang out. Why don't you come with me?" He offers.
You shake your head no quickly. "I'm not going anywhere with you, Patrick." You exclaim. "Well, if you do go, and see me and him are friends, you'll know I'm not such a bad guy, and you might like my new friend. If you don't go though..." He chuckles lowly. "Me and this guy may not be friends... and by not going, your risking this kid getting beat up in his own home. Do you want that on your conscience?" You bite your lip, but shake your head. "No, you don't. I could handle that, but you couldn't, pretty thing. So come on, grab your shit and head over there with me, alright?" You make no movements, and Patrick groans, grabbing your gym-bag. "Fine, since I told you I'm changing, and I'm a gentleman, I'll carry your stuff." His free hand grabs your wrist. You both walk out of the school doors towards the bus stop. As you stand waiting for the bus, he leans in, his lips almost brushing your ear. "We're taking the city bus, and it's late enough that it's gonna be crowded." You nod, not sure where he's going with this. "Lots of hard working people want a seat, and we should give it to them. Being good members of the community and all that shit." He sighs. "So whether or not there's a free seat for you, I expect that ass on my lap for the whole ride, you feel me?" You blush, and look at him with wide eyes. He chuckles, leaning back from your ear. "Gotta save some room for everyone else. Besides, I'm plenty comfortable."
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Ahmed is sitting on his bed, foot bouncing at a pace so rapidly it practically shakes his whole scrawny form. He stares at the clock, counting the seconds until Patrick shows up. He promised, promised he'd have a way of getting you here. After weeks and weeks of photographing you from a distance, Patrick promised he would finally get to be near you, talk with you. Ahmed wasn't exactly sure how Patrick was going to accomplish this, but he knew given his reputation it would be easier for Patrick to get a hold of you than him. He just hoped whatever Patrick did, it wouldn't be as severe as what he endured before Patrick and him entered a truce. He didn't want you in his house for the first time, scared and unsure why you were brought there. No! He wanted his new house guest to be comfortable. His room was dark, with books, figures, and posters strewn about. He did his best to make it homey though. He opened the curtains, cleaned out any trash, (hid his camera and photo collection). He was sure Patrick was going to laugh at him for all this, seeing as Patrick had seen the state his room was in before. Ahmed shakes his head. He wasn't worried about Patrick right now. No, he was ready to see you, talk with you. Maybe... maybe even get to touch you.
The door creaks, and Ahmed hears footsteps approaching. Heavy boots, followed by the light patter of smaller feet. He bites his lip to the point it almost breaks skin. Patrick had done it. You were waiting just outside his room.
He hops back onto his bed, trying to look as casual as possible as the blonde menace he now called a friend traipsed in, with you behind him. "Ahmed... looks like you cleaned up a little in here. Huh." Patrick looks around, hands in his pockets as he leans against Ahmed's bed frame. "Ahmed, I believe you know my new friend." Patrick motions at you. Ahmed nods quickly. "Uh, yeah. We have an English class together." He says. "It's nice to actually meet you Ahmed, you and Patrick are-" You sigh. "Friends?" Ahmed nods. "Yeah, we actually have a lot in common..." He chuckles, shrugging. "Crazy, huh?" He coughs awkwardly. You nod, still not fully convinced.
"See, baby? I told ya' there's nothing shifty going on here! Me and Ahmed are just best buds." Patrick flops onto Ahmed's bed, bouncing the boy up a little as he wraps an arm around him, his grip rough on Ahmed's shoulder. 'Best buds' wasn't really a term Ahmed would use, especially considering two days ago Patrick was pounding Ahmed into this very bed, making the scrawny outcast cry and beg for his cock to go just a little deeper, just a little faster to give him that relief. Of course, Patrick was a jerk, and didn't let him reach that peak for at least three hours into the session, when Ahmed's parents came home. Patrick enjoyed making the boy finally cum on his cock, while trying to muffle his cries knowing his parents were just downstairs.
"So, w-would you like to watch a movie, or play a game? I've got Mario Kart, and Mortal Kombat-" Ahmed lists off a few more games, hoping something would catch your attention and endear him to you. You smile awkwardly, but shake your head. You hadn't really planned on staying, considering you were so sure that Patrick was just tormenting this poor boy. "I actually should get going, it's a Friday night, I don't want to intrude on your boys time." You move to grab your gym stuff, and Ahmed's face falls. He looks at Patrick, glancing at you and silently begging Patrick to do something. Anything, just to keep you here longer. "Calm down, I'll fuckin' handle it." Patrick whispers, before running a hand through his hair and turning back to you. "C'mon, baby! We don't mind you hanging out. Besides, Ahmed's had kind of a rough time in our school. I'm the only friend he's got." Ahmed blushes, not realizing the strategy was to make him look like a pathetic loser. "Patrick-" Patrick shoves his shoulder and continues. "Don't you wanna help him make at least one more friend?" You hesitate at the door, before sighing. It certainly isn't healthy for someones only friend to be Patrick, so you nod. "Fine, I'll stay..."
Several hours go by, and after two movies, four rounds of Mario Kart, and one two-liter of Sprite later, you are on the verge of passing out. You aren't really sure what happens in the next few minutes, but all you know is you are now laying in Ahmed's bed, with Patrick to your right and Ahmed squished on your other side, between you and the wall. Patrick fell asleep first, oddly enough. For a guy with so much energy, he gets sleepy quick. Now it's just you and Ahmed.
"Sorry about this, I didn't realize it was so late..." Ahmed apologizes. He isn't sorry. He imagined hundreds of ways this evening could go, but none of them ended with you pressed up against him, in his bed. God, you were getting your scent all over his sheets and his t-shirt. "M' never gonna wash these sheets again." He mumbles to himself. "Mm- what?" You ask groggily, making him jolt and blush. "Nothing, sorry." You go back to trying to sleep, and eventually pass out.
Ahmed tries to sleep as well, but just as he closes his eyes, he feels a weight on top of him. He gasps, and opens his eyes to see Patrick on top of him. "Come on, freak. We've got work to do." He sits back on the boys lap, allowing him to sit up. "Wha- I thought you were asleep." Patrick scoffs, and shakes his head. "Nah, just knew she wouldn't want to fall asleep around big bad me if she thought I was awake. But, I am. Now go find your camera." Ahmed looks confused, making Patrick roll his eyes. "Come on, you didn't think we were just gonna have a sleepover, did you? Tell secrets and make friendship bracelets like a fuckin' girl scout troop? We have a chance to get some close-up shots we could never get otherwise right now. Maybe even get a feel of her, now hurry up." The plan now confirmed, Ahmed scrambles as quietly as he can off the bed, practically throwing himself onto the floor as he blindly feels around under his bed for the camera. He knocks some stuff around, making Patrick his. "Shut the fuck up!" He whispers harshly. "M' sorry! It's dark." Ahmed whines. Finally, his fingers close around cold metal the camera, and he climbs back onto the bed beside Patrick.
"I'm ready. Just tell me when to snap a picture, and I'll do it." Patrick nods. "Heh, I've always wanted to see what's under this shirt." Patrick carefully slides the thin cotton up, not removing it from you but placing it just under your chin, exposing your breasts to the two boys. "Why doesn't she have a bra?" Ahmed asks. "She was coming back from the gym, already took off her sports bra, I guess. It's in her back over there, if you wanna smell it or some shit." Ahmed blushes. "S-smell it?" He stammers. "I don't know, you're the freak here. I'm just guessing that's something you're into." He isn't wrong.
"God, she's got a nice little pair, huh?" Patrick motions for Ahmed to snap a few photos. "Get one of my hands on em' too." Patrick's large hands cup your breasts, his thumb barely brushing past the nipple. Once Ahmed get's the photos, Patrick begins to gently rub his thumb and fore-finger over the nipples, watching as the delicate buds harden. "Fuck, I always like them better when there hard n' shit. Seeing them poke through t-shirts. I caught her out in the cold once, took everything in me to not make her pop em' out right there in the alley behind the school." Patrick smiles and the memory. Ahmed squirms, causing his friend to take notice.
"Gimme your camera." Patrick orders. "Wha- no! This, this camera is everything to me!" Patrick just groans at the boys pleading. "I'm not gonna' break it, freak. Just giving you a chance to free up your hands so you can play with her tits too." Ahmed looks between Patrick and your breasts, which are now peaking in arousal at Patrick's teasing. He sighs. "Okay, fine." Patrick takes the camera, and Ahmed places two hands on your breasts, squeezing ever so gently. "Wow, they're really soft, except for her nipples, I guess..." Patrick restrains himself from laughing so loud he'll wake you up. "God, you are such a fuckin' virgin. Do something photo-worthy, for fucks sake." Patrick eggs Ahmed on, and in a moment of boldness, the boy places a kiss on your collarbone, before slowly trailing his way down to your left breast. After a bit of careful kissing and teasing, his chapped lips find your nipple, latching gently.
"Shit... there you go." Ahmed is so lost in the taste of your soft skin that he doesn't register the camera flashing a few times as Patrick snaps some pictures. What he does hear however, is the soft, wanton moan that escapes your lips. He pulls back, eyes wide as he looks at Patrick. Patrick seems just as shocked, but this is quickly replaced with a toothy grin. "C'mon, clearly your making her feel good. Grab at her shorts, I wanna see if she's wet from us just playing with her girls." Patrick insists, and Ahmed obliges. Trembling fingers pull at your shorts, slowly inching them down your relaxed thighs. "Hurry up-' "I'm trying! It's hard when she's asleep, not exactly cooperating." Ahmed eventually gets the thin shorts down your legs, just above your knees in case they need to move them back up in a hurry. To his delight, he managed to hook your underwear down with them, leaving your soft mound exposed to the two boys.
Ahmed's nimble fingers move to spread your lips, the strings of slick breaking apart as he parts them, coating his fingers. He almost finishes right there, seeing the light of the camera as Patrick snaps a picture reflect off of your slick, letting them know just how soaked you are. "Fuckin' soaked... just from a bit of teasing." Patrick groans, making sure to get a picture of both your holes and Ahmed's fingers parting the folds around them. "Is that not normal?" Patrick shrugs. "I don't know, some people are more sensitive than others, I guess. Especially when they haven't been touched." Ahmed's eyes light up at that, and he whips his head towards Patrick.
"You- you think there's a chance she hasn't... y'know..." Ahmed trails off. "We're literally taking nudes of her cunt right now, just say 'had sex', 'fucked', anything. Jesus." The weaker boy shrinks into himself at the blonde's words. "I mean, it's possible. I've never heard of any guy doin' her, and I've never seen her with another guy around school." Patrick continues. "Isn't that your fault?" Ahmed asks, making his new friend chuckle. "Maybe. You're the one who's been outside her window for the past month, ever seen a guy over?" Ahmed shakes his head no. "Then maybe she's just been waiting for the right guy to come and show her a good time." Patrick moves a little closer to Ahmed, pressing himself against the boy's back. For the first time, Ahmed isn't bothered by Patrick towering over his smaller frame. "Well, right guys, y'know." Ahmed doesn't respond, his mind filling with ideas of what might happen, that night when him and Patrick finally get to be your firsts.
Would you be scared? He'd comfort you as best he could, but Patrick wouldn't be much help with that, (though he knows Patrick can be gentle when he really wants something.) Ever the anxious mess, he can't even focus on his fantasies without worrying. He needed to get condoms, and were you on birth control? Patrick should definitely get tested first, who knows what he's got going on. If Patrick takes you first, what should he do? He's content to sit in the corner and play with himself, but he know's Patrick would only make fun of him for 'not getting any'. A final thought strikes him. Would he be jealous? Would you like Patrick better? You've known him longer, and he's definitely more popular. He's pretty, whereas Ahmed is skinny and feral-looking. He's drawn out of his panic by the sound of a zipper.
"Whatcha thinkin' bout, 'Mhed?" Patrick asks. He can tell when his little freak-friend is spiraling. "You wanna touch her, huh?" Ahmed nods. He can feel the rough, calloused hands of Patrick palming his cock through his boxers. He shudders. "So much. I want... god, can I take her first?" Ahmed begs, gasping as Patrick pulls down his waistband, letting his cock stick out. Patrick gently rubs his thumb on Ahmed's tip, collecting a bead of pre-cum. "Maybe. You still' passing science?" Ahmed furrows his brow at the odd question. Why was Patrick asking about classes while he jerks him off over your sleeping form. "Yeah, I'm doing p-pretty well in all my classes..." He replies. He tosses his head back into Patrick's shoulder as the strong delinquent begins to stroke his length with quick, tight strokes. Patrick's free arm wraps around Ahmed's stomach, pinning the boy's back to his broad chest. "Gimme your notes for all your classes then. If you're good for me, n' keep proving you're worth something-" Another harsh stroke. Ahmed is on the verge. "Then maybe I'll let you be the one to break in her sweet little hole." Ropes of white, hot cum spill from Ahmed's cock as he cries out, before quickly biting his lip to try and silence himself. If you woke up now, there would be no way him and Patrick could make an excuse to get out of this. Just the thought of being your first leaves Ahmed so emotional that as his cock twitches in pleasure, he can feel himself tearing up.
"Are you fucking crying?" Patrick presses his lips to Ahmed's cheek, getting a taste. "You get jerked off one time thinking about our pretty girl and you fuckin' cry. Maybe you aren't ready to be her first." Ahmed gags, and turns around. He moves his arms, frantically whispering, begging. "No, no! I won't cry then, I'll be good. I'll make her feel good, please. I- I've gotta be her first, you don't-" Patrick shushes him. "You've got a long way to go. I think you and I will have to practice some more, making sure you last longer than you did just now." Patrick leans to the side, taking in the sight of your nude torso now decorated with Ahmed's cum. He grins. "Alright, here's the deal. You take some photos real quick, make sure we can see the pretty paint-job you gave her." Ahmed blushes as Patrick stands. "Where are you going?"
"Gotta go get some wipes, and I gotta be quick about it."
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vagabond-umlaut · 8 months
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⁙ ensnared
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No matter what the world says, no matter what the world believes in, Gojo is nothing but a puny fly to the wily spider that you are. Flying headfirst into the gossamer web your skilled fingers have spun, time after time after time— The silk threads, perfectly tailored. Just for him.
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▸ Gojo x Wife!Reader; Tooth-Rotting Domestic Fluff; Very Very Suggestive Themes; Nudity; Mentions of Food & A Plant Dying; Gojo calls his wife 'cookie'; Everything is fair in love and war ;) [This Fic's Rated Mature -> MDNI!!! ^_^]
▸ This is for you, Dilay! *MWAH MWAH MWAH* @roseqzpd
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For all that is said about him, Gojo is a man who succumbs to only two temptations.
One:
Sweet dishes, regular intake of which will put anyone into a hyperglycemic crisis. [Good thing, he isn't just 'anyone'.]
And the other one:
You. His wife. His sweet, sweet, sweetest wife, who's currently peering up at him from his lap, wrapped in nothing except a way too tiny bath towel— however– he instructs himself the nth time since you emerged from the bathroom– you are a temptation he refuses to cave in to... just for now.
Strangely cognizant of his mind [like you are, more often than not], Gojo watches you intently stare at his lips for a full two seconds. Then repeat the request you made less than thrice today, but your husband already feels his defenses crumbling.
"'Toruuu," you whine, wrapping your arms round his neck and pressing closer, "Won't you help your wife choose a pretty outfit for today's get-together? I'm so confused... You want your wife to look the best among all the ladies there– tell me, don't you?"
"'Course, I do, cookie!" he exclaims, indignant as to how you could ever think anything otherwise— before a sudden ping! from his laptop sends him careening to the ground like a deflated balloon.
The poor man sighs. "But there's still so much work left to be done–"
"– which you can always complete once you've helped me, 'Toru," you cut him off with a pout, that slowly gathers a playful tinge as you ask, "Why are you behaving like this, though? Usually, you jump at the faintest chance to get out of paperwork. But now..."
Eyes growing comically wide, your voice sinks to a conspiratorial whisper. So worried, so cute. "Did anyone threaten to leak where your secret sweets stash is, 'Toru? If you– you know– submit these reports too late like always, eh?"
The only response your husband manages to eke out for your query is a very strained chuckle... 'cause, yeah, that's right.
Nanami promised to do exactly that– telling his very dear but having-black holes-for-stomachs students where his foreign sweets are stored– besides telling you how the white-haired man hogged ten chocolates one day despite his allowed daily two– and how your favourite star cactus didn't die from age but from him overwatering it, that week you were on a mission in France two months back– should he submit anything late ever again... But, no, wait.
You were on a foreign trip when he was given this ultimatum, and returned only last night. And Nanami promised to not tell you these yet– at least, not any time before that damned deadline's over. So, how...
"'Toruuu," Your petulant self, very adorably so, draws him away from his musings. And Gojo swears, if he wasn't losing before, he certainly is now. Your watery eyes, lower lip jutted out just the right amount and your nails leaving a delicious trail on his undercut— they've always been too strong for the world's strongest sorcerer.
Groaning, he leans forward to rest his forehead on yours. And darts his eyes to bore into yours lest they travel to your soft skin peek– NO, DON'T GO THERE. NOT NOW. PLEASE.
He huffs. "Okay, fine."
You open your mouth, probably to screech in delight, but your husband shushes you with a finger to your lips. He continues, shifting his tone to a graver timbre, "But only to help you choose your outfit– nothing else."
Lips curving into a wide smile behind his finger, your eyes gleam in terribly concealed delight. He has to actively stop himself from kissing you right then and there— there are still three mission reports left to be filed.
"And if I catch you trying to change the stream to anything else," he warns. You nestle closer into him, blinking your gorgeous eyes up at him in silent wait. A chuckle [which sounds more embarrasingly choked than anything] leaves him.
Features shifting into something brighter than a supernova, you push his finger away. And giggling, say, "You won't go easy on me— right, 'Toru?"
[In hindsight, though, Gojo thinks he should have recognised this plan to be yours.
From the way you step out the bathroom, not in your usual bathrobe but a towel... To the way you beg him to help decide your dress, in spite of knowing well how he leans towards only white or light blue choices... To the way your towel– pretty conveniently and accidentally, of course– slips lower not even ten minutes into the task...
To the soft 'Oops!' you exhale but make no move to cover your exposed chest, a mute thrill clear in the curve on your lips as you watch him watch, drink in, mentally devour the delectable sight before— your ever-present coyness nowhere to be found even as he strips you, nothing hiding you anymore from his starving gaze...
To the smug smile you're offering him now, the next day, after he's been thoroughly chewed out by Yaga for submitting his work a whopping four hours late...
Your wicked, brilliant, bewitching eyes go from him, to the mountain of empty candy wrappers on the centre table, to the empty pot of soil on the windowsill– the one that had your annoying, attention-hogging desert plant– then return to him.
A shudder runs down his spine— which doesn't take long to transform into a shiver of excitement. And a very, very warm burst of fondness right in the middle of his chest.
The man shakes his head with a laugh, 'cause—
For all that is said about him, Gojo is a man who succumbs to only two temptations.
And he'll be a fool, if he is to mess with the second– and more important of the two–
You.
His sweet, sweet, sweeter than the sweetest sweet dish, but startlingly sharp wife.]
[Also, no joke, but isn't your 'Toru insanely in love with you, even more for that?]
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Gojo, some time later: My cookie is sooo smart– did ya know that, Nanamin? Hehe. Nanami: Why TF do you always hide in my office every time your wife is mad at you?
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▸ Divider by @hitobaby. Header from Pinterest. I don't own the characters used here.
▸ masterlist
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ne-videl · 4 months
Text
𝓶𝓲𝓭𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓻 𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽'𝓼 𝓭𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶
yandere Rezef Hill x immortal fem reader
quirks of eternal life and the obsessed prince.
yandere, sfw, mentions of violence, kidnapping & imprisonment, angst??, you are immortal and reaaly bored, poor english, possibly wild image of high society bc real history suck
word count: ~3.5k
a/n: hii!!
exams be killing me
glad its over until the next year but I still have a shit ton of books to read at summer bc I'm in literature class (Tolstoy I hope ur spinning in your grave I don't want to read 3rd and 4th tome of war and peace but I have to)
anyway for this fic I re-read first chapters and?? Rezef is such a dick in the beginning?? and I forgot abt it??
also when I think about someone immortal this type of person just comes to mind (I mean ofc u don't give a damn about some angry man, you literally have been through everything) and don't worry about Cayena she's chilling in a nice place
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indeed, lady [name], you are shining brighter than usual today. you've only recently returned to the capital, haven't you?" – at that warm evening, a pretty young girl was chirping in your ear, sitting with you on a luxurious sofa in the ballroom.
you listened with half an ear to a mixture of flattery and sincere admiration, looking into nowhere from under your eyelashes.
the ball was playing its climax, and the guests were harmoniously spinning in a german waltz. others, more noble and older, entertained themselves with idle conversations.
you too, thanks to your position, were little constrained by the limits of secular norms, and did not bother dancing. tonight you wanted anything other than to gallop around the stuffy hall. your eyes, devoid of the childish brilliance peculiar to your peers, looked indifferently at the guests.
the ball in honor of the beginning of summer was a great event, even the royal family usually participated in it; such celebrations instilled in their noble participants a sense of reverence for the higher-ranking present and idle anticipation of the upcoming entertainment.
but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't see anything more from the height of your velvet sofa than pretentiously dressed men and women; strangely moving, stiffly dancing and talking vague figures under the sickening light of numerous chandeliers. all this in the stuffy luxury of the hall seemed to you so fake, pretentious and unnatural that you could barely restrain yourself from haughty laughter, or from a bored sigh.
[name], beautiful [name]! daughter of the richest man in the empire, a brilliant socialite, trendsetter and muse of famous poets.
you vaguely remembered what was inside some rubbish that you read about a hundred years ago, you don't know when and you don't know where.
and although in your case, "a hundred years" might not be just a phrase, you couldn't care less. whether this the fifth life or the hundredth – what's the difference? right, there's none – you thought lazily, openly staring at the crown prince exchanging pleasantries with representatives of the capital's bohemians.
like you, who on the last night of spring were dressed up like a Christmas tree, his highness shone with the white brocade of his suit today. eyes with the color of ceylon sapphire peeked out from under his golden bangs, giving everyone present the condescending look of the royalty. little prince – as you laughingly called him to yourself – was handsome to the point that young girls blushed deeply as soon as they saw him, and married ladies sighed dreamily.
at the sight of the handsome prince, some memory cracked in your skull, however, it died as quickly as it appeared. this and a thousand other memories were simply not worth your attention, and, of course, you never scolded yourself for the forgetfulness inherent in your age. you were above it all.
Rezef easily distinguished among the crowd a lady dressed in thick silk with bare shoulders. on your neck, which he did not hesitate to stare at, there was a pair of pearl necklace with a large emerald. when you met his gaze, you smiled falsely and slightly bowed your head.
middle-aged count, whose name he could not remember, looked at the woman in the corner of the hall, and scratched his gray beard with a smile.
"gorgeous, isn't she?" – an old dog next to him grinned vulgarly – "the beauty of the empire, they say."
"what a wonder." – Rezef did not take his strangely enchanted gaze off you, and the words escaped from his lips with a gasp – "it's not a pity to fall in love with such a creature." – he said maliciously, as if he concluded for himself.
the crown prince walked towards you, ignoring the knowing look of the nameless old man beside him.
he walked confidently, with a deceptively friendly smile, and would have been incredibly ridiculous to you if he hadn't been so handsome.
"good night to you, lady [name]." – Rezef smiled warmly, and held out his hand in a snow-white glove to you, – "may I keep you company?"
he kissed your palm, and without waiting for consent, sat down next to you.
you talked about various nonsense; Rezef did not take his shining eyes off you and listened, and you chatted in a dry tone about the opera, exhibitions and the weather in the capital, hardly forcing yourself to remember the topics that the ladies had already retold a hundred times.
but the guests were invited to the cotillion, and you left the little prince as easily as you accepted him into your shining company.
with the last round of the dance, everything that was happening completely mixed up in your head into a bright, stuffy mess, accompanied by the imperial orchestra and the clatter of shoes on the lacquered parquet.
and in the end, caught by the prince's arm, you were only a little confused, but you didn't show it.
"why won't you stay the night at the palace?" – Rezef said, whose broad chest rose and fell rapidly after dancing, just like your own.
you raised your eyebrows, looking at him from under your eyelashes, and fell into thought, accompanied by the prince to one of the front balconies.
normally, you wouldn't mind spending the night with such a handsome man, but today you didn't want carnal pleasures at all. and of course, you could afford to just turn down the prince like that; just because you're not in the mood, just because you don't want to.
"thank you for the offer, your highness, however, I will refrain." – you said.
for a second, when his eye twitched, you saw something unpleasantly bitter in Rezef's soft features, a mixture of disappointment with something else. but you didn't care to the depths of your callous heart; today you're not in the mood, today you're not having any fun at all.
and what was the point of that endless journey that you called life if you weren't having fun?
Rezef fell silent, maintaining his sugary smile and standing next to you, and you leaned on the marble railing, looking up at the sky.
the pale disk of the moon is floating high on the horizon. there was music coming from the ballroom, the rustle of dresses and the clatter of shoes, irritating your ears; the little prince had been gathering his thoughts for a couple of minutes to speak; and you rested your chin on your silk-gloved hand.
"tell me, lady [name]." – your bored gaze returned to the Crown Prince, – "this night, the moon and the stars, and me, doesn't that remind you of anything?"
you raised your eyebrow. even if you tried, you wouldn't be able to remember; over the years, memories inevitably dimmed and got lost.
Rezef looked at you expectantly, with almost childish anticipation. a sick gleam flashed in his eyes.
the longer your silence dragged on, the more you disliked his face, his eyes; the childish interest in his handsome features contrasted unpleasantly with the look of a madman. as if you won't say what he wants to hear now, the earth itself will crack and split in half.
"I'm afraid not, your highness. nothing at all." – you said, lightly shaking your shoulders.
the little prince didn't say anything else. his lips trembled, and he stared into the distance, clearly terribly disappointed.
the last night of spring burned out in your cold eyes, and you sighed indifferently.
Rezef remembered his childhood well. in a world where everyone hated him, for some reason, there were no pretty princesses or kind older sisters. nobody. at all.
there was only a lady dressed in silk and the moon.
you came to him in dreams; whether out of boredom or out of simple human pity, he didn't know. you came because you could and wanted to; because you said you loved doing what you wanted.
it was just the two of you in this dream world. you told him all the life you could remember; and you had a long one, longer than the biggest cat's tail.
the boy lay on your lap and listened, and sometimes cried.
in this world its eat or be eaten, but you definitely won't eat him.
"they all say that I have no place in this world. that I'd better disappear." – little prince was clutching the silk of your dress tightly in his hands and squinting. – "I hate them."
"all of them?" – you answered with a relaxed, lazy smile, running your hand through the boy's golden hair.
"you and I have a lot in common. that's the way life is, child. when you grow up, you definitely start hating someone." – you were grinning. – "and you cry and feel sad a lot."
"when I become emperor, I will definitely make you the happiest in the whole world! so that you will never cry again." – the boy squeezed your hands tightly in his palms and smiled radiantly. he hesitated slightly, and looked at you from under his golden eyelashes. "but you didn't tell me your name."
"[name]." – you breathed out laughingly.
"aren't you a fairy by any chance?" – little prince tilted his head to the side, looking at you with a radiant gaze of his blue eyes.
"perhaps." – you giggled.
prince laughed loudly. a fake moon was hanging over you two, and fake stars were shining; everything in the dream world is fake – you told him.
but he liked these strange dreams. and wanted them to become real; to have a real moon, real stars, and only him and you.
every time already grown-up Rezef met the woman from his dreams, he felt his heart beating faster.
human heart, such a fragile and pathetic little thing. how many of these hearts have you got your hands on?
he would gladly have torn out each one with his own hands.
the love for you, which has passed through the years, was like bitter liquor sliding down his throat. after it, the stomach turns out, but it intoxicates so much that he can't hold himself from taking another sip.
there is no light in him to give you. all he has is the suffocating darkness of his mind, cultivated by the mores of the palace, the thirst for power and cruelty. but just as no one else besides yourself mattered to you, Rezef didn't give a damn about the nature of his feelings.
poor, pathetic little prince. no one told him that this is not the way he should love someone. like a child who has not been taught to walk, and now it's crawling.
he's still holding back, but if necessary, Rezef will gladly drag you with him into the depths of hell.
but it hurts so much. every time he sees you laughing with someone else, smiling at someone else, he wants to cry.
it should be me! – his heart screams – it should be me! – his wounded soul cries while the prince stands over the corpse of one of your suitors, whom Rezef himself turned into a bloody mess. you should have held his hand. should have been smiling at him.
when someone's neck crunched under his hands again, he thought about you. would you praise him if Rezef brought you this man's head? for your smile, he would give his own heart, still fresh, in warm blood, right out of the gaping hole in his chest.
if you knew, you'd laugh.
because you are eternal, and he is just a human being. Inevitably, there will come a day when you will live, but Rezef will not. one day he will die, will end, and you will laugh coldly and continue your endless journey.
no matter what he does, no matter how hard he tries, you will always have an escape route. you can leave him.
unfair.
Rezef was even a little mad at you for that. he loved you so much; if you had only fluttered your eyelashes once and smiled – even falsely – he would have laid the whole world at your feet!
but you're breaking him. you don't care. you're only interested as long as you're having fun.
oh, how he despised that feeling, and despised you. how much he wanted to kill all the butterflies in his stomach, tear out every shiny wing; wanted to never see your mocking smile and indifferent eyes again, one fleeting glance of which easily made Rezef forget about al struggles for the throne.
he loved you as he had never loved anyone before; and hated because he didn't want to love, because he knew that you won't ever reciprocate.
he and you could't be called friends, however, in the capital's high society, almost all of its representatives were friends and enemies at the same time. in any case, it was not shameful for the crown prince to visit the daughter of the richest man in the empire for dinner.
tall pine trees lined up in orderly rows along the hectares of the estate's garden, shining with luxury no worse than the imperial palace. they bowed their gloomy heads and silently greeted the carriage that evening under the hot july sun that had not yet set.
after dinner was served and eaten, you ordered one of your maids to serve tea in the garden.
"undoubtedly, what happened to the count's daughter is a disgrace to the whole family, however, I cannot help but sympathize with her." – you talked a lot again and at the same time didn't actually say anything.
the only good thing about such conversations about nothing was the opportunity to listen to your measured, eternally bored voice, and just look at you like at a painting in a museum.
the upper world was completely fake and unnatural, and you gladly accepted this fake as a living embodiment of it. and Rezef was willing to play along, because he was the prince, because it was necessary to. and so your conversation drifted from topic to topic, from one rumor to another. the warm wind made him close his sapphire eyes.
"I've seen you in my dreams, marchioness. when I was little." – the crown prince lazily tilted his head to the side, – "I know you, yet you don't remember me. isn't that unfair?" – he said with mock, with sarcastic sadness.
"is it?" – you took a sip of flower tea from a porcelain cup – "well, life is full of injustices, your highness."
a small cabbage butterfly landed right on your finger, moving its thin paws under the cold gaze of your eyes.
"lady, do you like butterflies?" – the prince smiled warmly – "there are a lot of them in your garden."
"only poisonous ones, perhaps." – you replied, and with a smile reflecting his own, squeezed the butterfly in your hand. – "they bring death, yet die themselves if I squeeze my hand just like that. how curious."
"and what about you?" – Rezef, as if enchanted, watched the transparent wings fall on the countertop – "can't you die?"
"I can't be killed in a way that matters." – you answered with a grin, as if you were repeating these words for the thousandth time.
prince pursed his lips in a forced smile. in the end, nothing has changed; he is still just a man at the walls of the eternal city. you won't listen, won't understand, and won't love.
because eternity is beautiful by itself, eternity does not need anyone else.
Rezef likes to think he's doing the right thing.
It's your fault. you could not smile at him so beautifully, not illuminate his darkness with your cold light, not make him feel this.
he didn't want to expose the ugliness of his soul, didn't want to go that far. it's all because of you. you don't even know what an insane cocktail of love and hatred you're making him feel.
and you also don't know that your tea is poisoned.
"do you like your new quarters?" – Rezef almost purred, – "I was trying to guess your preferences, but if something doesn't suit you, be sure to tell me."
huh?
"you won't feel a need for anything," – little prince smiled radiantly, – "prepare to enjoy family life. just have fun and obey me, and I will make you the happiest in the whole world."
what?
Rezef was sitting, busily folding his beautiful hands, and enjoying for the first time the confused, trembling look in your eyes.
a giant bedroom, a four-poster bed, silk sheets on which you were sitting, a translucent nightgown that barely hides anything, and a scarlet ribbon around your neck.
while you were looking around uncomprehendingly, the prince sat down on the bed next to you and smiled sickly.
you saw that abomination again in the bright blue; the look of a pure madman, love which became an illness, mixed with almost animal hatred. a ribbon around your neck.
did he just put you on a leash, like you were some lap dog? that pup, who cried on your lap? you, a being older than his entire palace? you, for whom biting off someone's head is like having breakfast?
you haven't been humiliated like this in the last half-millennium.
"child." – you said slowly and quietly, and in your dry voice there was no trace of the cheeky, fake politeness peculiar to this aristocratic disguise of yours – "I'll pull your guts out through your mouth." – your lips trembled in sheer rage.
Rezef stroked your head and sighed.
"you came into my life so easily. it didn't mean anything to you, did it?" – the corner of his eye twitched, and he laughed bitterly, – "don't think I'll let you go now. never."
hit landed right on the bridge of his nose. you turned out to be much stronger than he expected, and your face was distorted with rage like he had never seen before. Rezef felt his nose bleed.
was the devil himself looking at him through your eyes now? – he thought with a strange calmness.
you hit a couple more times, and, shaking the blood off your knuckles, tore the ribbon from your neck.
how dare he? all of them are just actors in your endless play. if you're not having fun, then none of this makes sense. if you're not having fun, then what are you living for?
you were breathing fast, and were silent. it was as if for eternity you two just looked at each other; you – with fury, he – with calmness, even affably. you were sick of that expression.
but that rage of yours quickly subsided. it wasn't that you forgave him, it was just that after a couple of days you got bored with being violent.
and a year later, you stopped paying attention to the seemingly completely insane circumstances of your new life at all. you didn't mind his sole yet imaginary control over you, just because he didn't mean that much to you.
even now, nothing has changed at all.
and with the tendons cut at your ankles, looking at him with the same bored eyes, you were still disgustingly beautiful to him in the moonlight on the last night of spring.
"tomorrow I will become emperor." – instead of greeting you, Rezef said, entering the room. his face did not express joy, rather, bewilderment, as if he himself for some reason was not completely happy with it.
"yeah." – you said, without looking up from the book, – "congratulations."
now it was difficult for you to move around by yourself, so Rezef usually carried you in his arms.
he sat down on the bed and put his head on your lap and frowned.
"tell me, [name]," – he looked up at you, and when he met your impassive face, he forced a smile, – "why do I feel like I'll never see you again?"
"because you won't. I'm bored." – you shrugged and continued, – "you know, I could hate you." – you spoke calmly and dryly – "but you're not worth it. because in the end, I go on living; I always go on, and you, child, will fall into the very depths of hell."
you stroked his golden hair and smiled calmly. Rezef hid his face on your hips.
"I don't regret anything," – little prince suddenly said softly and laughed.
the last night of spring burned out in your eyes as you disappeared.
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brotha euugh
one day I'll go to therapy and stop being funny but not today
I finished playing slow damage and it's the best novel in my life (that shit destroyed me)
also good ends are for weak
I mean I write for yanderes ofc there's not gonna be anything good
it's either normal or "we're fucked" here
also I'm physically intolerable to good endings and will cry if I'd ever had to write one (I love sufferings)
198 notes · View notes
mangowillow · 6 months
Text
last to know | ch. 2: as always, even now
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pairing: jungkook x (f) reader / kim woosung x (f) reader
summary: you and jeongguk got together at 16 years old, married at 20, and divorced at 21. what was once love ever after turned into nothing but pain and unfulfilled dreams. you keep going despite the pain in your heart that never really went away, until one day, jungkook comes back— to seoul and in your life.
general story tags: divorce au, childhood friends, angst, hurt & eventual comfort, kind of a slow burn, OC is an adopted child in this fic, a lot of flashbacks later on because context is important; and the others that a lot of people seem to dislike: a love triangle and a LOT of miscommunication. look away if this isn't your thing. tags and warnings will be updated as we go along with each chapter!
warnings: mentions of weight loss and a hospital, jeongguk has a panic attack (semi-detailed), problematic parent-child dynamics. let me know if i miss anything and please be kind!
word count: 5.3k
author's note: *peeks into the void* why hello there! let's pretend i didn't disappear off the face of the earth. earlier this year i went to see The Rose live for their dawn to dusk tour and it was so much fun! there's just a lot of things that have happened and continue to do so; please accept my sincerest apologies for being inconsistent! BUT. know that i haven't forgotten about this story. heh.
also a few more things: ♡ to put things into perspective: jeongguk, OC/reader, and woosung are all the same age; that also means they're as old as seokjin and yoongi in this fic. all the other members maintain their age. honorifics may or may not appear at times. if that bothers you, well, can't please everybody! ♡ this fic isn't beta'd nor proofread by anyone. we go rogue, always.
tags for interested readers will be open for as long as this fic is ongoing! let me know in the comments or message me, whatever fits your preference!
fic masterlist
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Woosung plants a big, sloppy kiss on your cheek and giggles.
Looking at him, you ask, “What was that for?”
“Do I need a reason?” Woosung teases as he chews on his jjajangmyeon. You chuckle at his candidness and reach out to wipe the sauce that landed on the corner of his lip. The both of you resorted to sitting on the floor, surrounded by boxes, using one of them as a makeshift table to place the food.
“I’m really happy you got to come today,” you muse, enjoying Woosung’s calming presence as he delicately places a piece of chicken karaage on your noodle bowl before setting his own down. You haven’t seen him for a few days because he needed to get some new music done in preparation for his application to a recording agency as a performer and a producer. You were more than happy to support him in any way you could, including giving him his space to figure things out. It was also who Woosung was— a quiet soul who liked working in solitude. 
You and Woosung are so much alike.
“Why? Did you think I’d forget?” Woosung teases, a smirk playing on his lips. 
“No, I just thought… maybe you needed more time to prepare for your application. That’s important.”
Woosung gently shakes his head, ready to disagree— “Nothing will ever be as important to me as you.”
A slight pink dusted your cheeks. You didn’t expect him to be this cheesy so early in the morning so you smile and cast your eyes back down to your meal. 
“... I do have news for you, babe.” Woosung starts. He turns his body to face you. Giving your hundred percent attention, you cut the noodles with your teeth and place the bowl down. Wiping your mouth with a napkin, you hum at his statement, “What is it?”
Woosung smiles and looks at you lovingly. You feel a bit self-conscious every time he stares at you so intensely and like clockwork, you feel your cheeks heat up. 
“I got the job, sweetheart.”
Hearing the news leave his lips leaves you surprised— your hands fly to your mouth and your eyes start to water. “R-really?” Woosung nods and chuckles through his own teary eyes, you throw yourself at him to give him a tight hug. “Woosung, oh my god— this is— “ you hold him by the shoulders, explore every inch of his face, elation in both of your hearts— “this is great, oh gosh I am so happy for you,” you hug him again. 
You feel Woosung’s body relax instantly in your hold; it has been a journey, walking with Woosung through his own painful moments struggling with his art and passion. Two years ago, he came to Seoul desperately needing a break from life and music after many unsuccessful attempts to make it into the music industry back home in the United States. Although he and his bandmates have put out several songs in the past, they never really gained as much traction with an audience as they had hoped. Going back home to his roots in South Korea also meant leaving his bandmates behind— they have been nothing but supportive of him and his time as they also needed to re-assess their own lives and figure out what they truly wanted. 
Two years ago, Woosung also met you. Both your lives changed ever since.
“Thank you for all your support, ____… you know I wouldn’t have been able to get through all this if it weren’t for you.” Woosung whispers, tightening his hold on your waist. You feel this, you feel everything when it comes to him— so you wrap your arms tighter around him, too. “This is all you, babe. This is all your hard work.”
You both stay that way for a while. Unspoken words are left hanging, as well. You both know well what might become of all this as you always try to communicate. You believe it is what has sustained your relationship for so long. 
Both of you know that Woosung will always belong to music— it’s his dream and the reason why he took so many risks along the way. It was only a matter of when. The possibilities have always been there— should there be a moment where Woosung would return to his career, to his band, to becoming a global star. The fears that come along with those possibilities were also ever-present: what you and Woosung’s future would look like. 
All of these thoughts come rushing to the both of you, but neither of you said anything.
For now, the both of you are happy. And that is enough.
When you parted from each other, you pushed away some of the hair that fell over Woosung’s eyes. “When do you start?”
Woosung takes a deep breath, “As soon as the higher-ups get settled in. I’ve been told they’ve recently landed in Seoul so it shouldn’t be too long now. I’ll be meeting with the owners and one of them is the lead producer. I heard he was a genius, but also a bit scary. They’ve also given me a signing bonus and a potential collaboration with him… that was new… he said they liked my work so much…”
“Wow, that… that sounds so exciting, baby. How are you feeling about all of this?”
“I’m nervous, for the most part,” Woosung murmurs, readjusting the collar of his shirt. It’s been a while since I talked to someone else about music professionally and… this company— I’ve heard so many wonderful things about it. For one, it was built by musicians, too. So I’m hoping they’re not just doing all of it for the business.” 
You smile warmly at Woosung and hold his hands. “You’re going to do great, you know that, right?”
Woosung draws in a breath and nods before meeting your eyes. 
That night, Woosung couldn’t sleep. He watches over you as you dream and when a strand of your hair falls on your face after moving a bit, he tucks it behind your ear. His fingers lightly dance while grazing the side of your face. Woosung sighs as a feeling of anxiety starts to creep into his heart. He loves change, but he cannot help but feel somewhat scared about it anyway. He gets so lost in his thoughts about you that he doesn’t notice you wake up.
“Baby, hey… you’re still awake.”
Your voice brings Woosung back to the present. Seeing your sleepy eyes under the sliver of moonlight that passes through your window makes his heart do a mini somersault— it always does.
“Hmm… I couldn’t sleep,” Woosung says. You scoot closer to him, his arm going under your shoulders to support your body in an embrace. 
“Tell me what’s on your mind,” you whisper, eyes closed, inhaling his scent— him. 
“Just… things. I’m not sure how to articulate them yet…”
You hum, “Then I’ll just stay like this with you to keep you warm… warmth helps you sleep, right?”
Woosung nods, bringing your body closer to his. “Hm… especially your warmth.” Seconds later, he feels you breathe deeper, letting him know that you’re about to let yourself succumb to sleep once more. “I love you.”
When no response came from you, Woosung closed his eyes. Then suddenly, in the stillness of the night, he feels your hand squeeze his ever so lightly.
“I love you, too.”
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“Hyung, I think that’s the salt—” Jimin starts.
Seokjin snorts, stopping with the shaker in his hand mid-air, “What do you mean, Jimin-ah, I think I know the difference between salt and sugar.” He was about to potentially put salt on the croffle in front of him, leaving Jimin feeling both very nervous and distressed.
“Last time, I remember you put the sugar in a different container because a customer accidentally broke the original shaker. The color of the cap was blue, not red. This—” he pointed at the shaker Seokjin was holding, “— is obviously not blue.”
“Yah, that happened last week, but I already switched them out two days ago—” Seokjin tries to argue.
They didn’t notice Woosung enter the cafe until he spoke, “Why don’t you just taste it?”
“Oh hey, Woosung-hyung,” Jimin greets.
“Hey, Jimin. Good to see you,” Woosung replies as Jimin nods, his eyes turning into crescents as soon as he smiles.
Seokjin scoffs once more before greeting Woosung, but he relents and tastes whatever is inside the shaker. When he makes a funny face, Jimin and Woosung chuckle.
“Told ya, hyung. Tell us I saved your life.”
“I can’t believe this is salt, I knew I already switched it out—”
With possible disaster averted, Jimin doesn’t listen to Seokjin’s monologue anymore, “You’re here early today, hyung. Would you like to order the usual?”
“Actually, I am here to buy a mango parfait… ____’s fridge is crazy cold and the frozen mangoes are, well, too frozen. I might actually break the blender. I also forgot to make her usual overnight oats. We had to move a lot of things very quickly yesterday so she could have a bed to sleep on.”
“I got you, hyung. We just finished making a fresh batch of parfaits. Do you want one, too?” Jimin asks.
“Are there other flavors?”
“Blueberry and strawberry,” Seokjin adds.
“I’ll take one blueberry, then. Thanks.” Woosung gets ready to pay, but Seokjin waves him away. “It’s on the house.”
“You always give us free stuff, Seokjin—” Woosung tries to argue, but Seokjin shakes his head immediately.
“Taking care of my sister is more than enough, Woosung-ah.”
Woosung gives Seokjin a tight smile and nods. Seokjin then asks, albeit softer, “How is she doing lately?”
“She’s doing better,” Woosung reassures. “She has been painting more recently; not just because of her job at the university, but also at home. We’re going to set up her studio today so it should be fun.”
“That’s good to hear, right hyung?” Jimin turns to Seokjin, who nods. Jimin hands Woosung a paper bag with the parfaits. “I put some new desserts we’re experimenting with. Please give them a try.”
Woosung peeks at the paper bag and sees croissants and greenish muffins, presumably matcha-flavored. “Oh wow, thank you Jimin… I won’t take up too much of your time, guys. ____ is still sleeping and I need to clean up the mango disaster I left on her kitchen counter before she wakes up.”
Seokjin chuckles, “You really came all the way here for parfaits when you could have bought these anywhere near ____’s apartment.”
“Ah, but nothing beats your parfaits, Seokjin. A wise man once told me that,” Woosung smiles. He and Seokjin instantly formed a bond the moment they met two years ago, much to your relief. You’ve always been nervous to tell your brother anything remotely new about your love life— and you understand where he is coming from.
“Well whoever that wise man is must be pretty smart,” Seokjin replies. His eyes soften right afterward. “Go. Let’s have a drink sometime, yeah?”
“Sure thing,” Woosung waves goodbye to Seokjin and Jimin.
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Jeongguk walks the hallway of the recording studio, still groggy from sleep. Hands in his pockets, he stood outside Yoongi’s door, staring at his peculiar mat: a cat with its middle finger raised, the words ‘fuck off’ glaring at him. Figures, he thought. A doormat won’t stop him from ringing Yoongi’s doorbell, though.
“Who is it?” he hears Yoongi call out.
“It’s your favorite person in the whole wide world,” Jeongguk says, sarcasm lacing his voice. He pinched the bridge of his nose; a habit he developed in college whenever he felt the exhaustion seep out of him. He hears scuffling from the other side of the door until the sound of the door’s automatic lock rings. Jeongguk sees Yoongi clad in a plaid shirt, ripped jeans, and a gray beanie— his signature style. 
“Dumbass,” Yoongi mutters under his breath before turning his back to return to his equipment. “Good morning to you too,” Jeongguk teases as he closes the door behind him. 
“How are you already set up? It’s barely a day since we arrived!”
Yoongi chooses not to respond. 
“You’re kidding me, right?” Jeongguk asks in disbelief. “Please tell me you at least went home to get your shit sorted? Or maybe sleep like normal human beings do?”
“I did… for a brief moment, maybe?” Yoongi starts.
Jeongguk shakes his head, “You have to stop spreading yourself thin, Yoongi. It’ll be the death of you.”
Yoongi fiddles with a few knobs on the synthesizer before muttering, “That doesn’t seem so bad— spreading myself too thin, that is.”
Jeongguk throws his hands up in surrender and rolls his eyes.
“Have I succeeded in frustrating you to hell and back, yet?” Yoongi smirks while continuing to flit his eyes through the numerous screens in front of him.
Jeongguk was about to say something but then the door alarm clicked. Kim Namjoon’s head peeks out from behind the door.
“I came to say my welcome remarks,” Namjoon says as he lets himself in. Jeongguk’s mouth falls open because he couldn’t believe Namjoon could just easily waltz in without any resistance. What’s even more astounding was that he knew Yoongi’s passcode— while he, on the other hand, had to ring the fucking doorbell.
“Oh, great. So your boyfriend knows your passcode and I don’t?” Jeongguk asks.
“He isn’t my boyfriend,” Yoongi states, matter-of-factly. Jeongguk couldn’t help but glance at Namjoon’s way, who seemed unfazed.
“Right, and I’m Neil Armstrong,” Jeongguk plops down on the couch.
“You’re the CEO, Jeongguk, of course, you should know the passcode… right, Yoongi?” says Namjoon, ever the oblivious one. 
Yoongi continues to do work on his computer, his fingers deftly flying across his keyboard, “Don’t encourage him, Namjoon.”
Namjoon looks back at Jeongguk who has now taken an interest in the plant beside the couch. When they met each other’s eyes, Namjoon just shrugged, his dimples showing. 
“How was your flight, you guys? I hope everything was easy peasy.”
“Easy peasy lemon squeezy,” Jeongguk responds. “Not sure about Yoongi here though. He looked like he was about to puke.”
“Shut up,” Yoongi retaliates.
“I can’t imagine the both of you tolerating each other while in another country. It’s a miracle this production company is still standing upright,” Namjoon says chuckling. 
Namjoon met Jeongguk first in university while they studied in New York. Although Jeongguk was a business student and Namjoon double majored in music theory and composition, they ran into each other at a frat party-— with Jeongguk being drunk off his ass. He was about to fall into the pool full of piss (which the other frat members thought was funny) when Namjoon saved him in the nick of time. 
Apart from Yoongi, Namjoon also served as Jeongguk’s confidant, especially after things went south between you and Jeongguk. When the dust settled and Jeongguk was sober enough to realize the gravity of his mistakes, Namjoon helped Yoongi pick up the pieces of Jeongguk’s brokenness. As with time passing by, Namjoon and Yoongi started to develop into something more, too. Much to Jeongguk’s delight and envy.
However, neither Yoongi nor Namjoon has admitted their feelings to the other. And truth be told, Jeongguk is sick of them dancing around each other.
But he also knows it’s none of his business.
“Hey, Jeongguk, is that family dinner of yours still happening tonight?” Yoongi decides to ask. Also probably to change the subject.
Jeongguk lets out a deep sigh. “Yes, it is.”
“Ouch. Will you be alright?” Namjoon asks out of genuine concern.
“I don’t really have a choice.”
“You always have a choice, Jeongguk-ah,” Yoongi inserts. “You just need to work on making the right ones.”
Jeongguk slacks his jaw and runs his tongue across his lip ring. He doesn’t really have an answer to that.
Because once again, Yoongi was right. Not just about the damn family dinner; Jeongguk also knows his best friend’s words run deeper and imply a whole lot more than just feeling forced to sit down with his parents over steak and champagne.
“See you on the other side, then,” Namjoon says as he pats Jeongguk on the shoulder before leaving the room.
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Jeongguk mulled over bringing flowers to the family dinner but decided against it.
He knows that the house would be filled with them, anyway. And his efforts won’t matter, either.
As he got out of his car, a chauffeur was already by his side ready to take his keys for him. When the car drove off, Jeongguk took a moment to look at the house he hadn’t lived in for years. It feels odd to come home; it feels even odder to feel numb about all of it.
It took Jeongguk a few seconds to ring the doorbell; for god’s sake, it was his house too, he thought. Ringing the doorbell meant he was a stranger— which he felt was appropriate.
He was greeted by a new housekeeper. He gave her a nod before stepping inside. Almost instantly, his mother appeared at the top of the staircase. They look at one another for a moment, before his mother breaks the silence.
“You finally decide to show yourself.”
Jeongguk doesn’t move. Doesn’t respond, either. He was prepared for a stare-off match with his mother, but that was until his father showed up from the kitchen. With a dish towel in hand, Jeongguk’s father smiled at him as he placed a hand on his son’s shoulder.
“It’s so good to see you, son.”
Jeongguk, once more, doesn’t have it in him to respond.
At the dinner table, the silence was so loud, that Jeongguk thought it could break glass.
“Did you settle in fine, Jeongguk?” his father asks.
“Yes, father, I did.”
“You should have chosen a place that was nearer to us, Jeongguk,” his mother chides.
“Honey…” Jeongguk’s father tries to put out a fire that is about to ignite. Jeongguk, on the other hand, was so tired from the flight and emotionally, that he felt a need to retaliate.
Because why not? Whether he speaks up or not wasn’t really up to him. Between him and his mother, he has nothing to lose.
“I don’t know, mother, I chose that place because I wanted to get away from here as much as possible.” Jeongguk remarks. He knows he hit a nerve because his mother downed her champagne rather than respond.
“How is the company going, son? Everything doing alright?” his father asks, trying to mitigate a conflict that neither of them could recover from.
“I guess. Yoongi and I haven’t managed to burn anything so that’s nice,” Jeongguk eats a spoonful of mashed potato. He knows he really needs to shut up and regulate his emotions, but he just can’t help but be sarcastic.
Once more, the silence won. However, Jeongguk’s mother is the type to not back down.
“You should think about getting married soon, Jeongguk—” she starts. Jeongguk feels himself grow cold as if on instinct. 
“—and this time, we want you to marry someone your level,” she finishes. Jeongguk felt his heart twisting so painfully that he didn’t notice how tight he held on to his cutlery.
Jeongguk swallows the once-repressed pain that used to consume him whole. He knows this is futile because he never dares to face his regrets square in the face. Instead, he allows the pain to make him angry. He allows his resentment to consume him in ways he doesn’t know how to handle and in a pained effort to avoid causing further damage, he remains quiet. Unresponsive. Cold. Withdrawn.
But his own mother is even more cold-hearted than he is. She is the one who made him like this.
It’s her fault.
“You need to marry a good woman who can keep up with your social status. Remember you’re not just anyone, Jeongguk. You’re a Jeon. And you have a legacy to uphold,” his mother condescends. 
Tears start to sting Jeongguk’s eyes, but he doesn’t want to let his mother win. So he keeps still.
“I have a few prospects for you, dear. We should set dates for them, don’t you think so? I chose the most refined and educated—” Jeongguk hates how his mother knows how to push his buttons and hurt him.
He knows that his mother knows his ultimate weakness.
You.
And because his mother cannot contain her insecurities and prejudice, she projects it all on her son. But most especially, you— whether you were in the room or not.
Jeongguk’s mother continues her monologue. His father miserably fails to become the referee (he always does). Heat starts to rise Jeongguk’s neck and he swears he could hear his own blood pumping through his ears. What almost immediately follows is the high-pitched ringing that only he can hear. 
Jeongguk starts to feel dizzy; like he’s about to lose control.
But instead of releasing, instead of crying, instead of getting angry— he does none of them. 
He finds himself standing up, his hands dragging the plate full of food to the ground. With all his might, Jeongguk tries to breathe deeply.
“That’s enough, mom.” Jeongguk croaks. A tear escapes his eye. “Please.”
Jeongguk rarely addresses her as “mom”. But in times of vulnerability and helplessness, it’s the term he ends up using.
“As I expected… you are still weak, Jeongguk.” his mother states with absolutely no remorse.
Jeongguk feels like he is about to throw up. To save himself, he drags his legs to leave the dining area. Housekeepers try to help him, but he brushes them aside. Security guards around the house up until the gate tried to support him, but Jeongguk just waved them all off.
He just needed to get away before his vision completely blurred. He needed to get out of this godforsaken house.
It was a miracle that Jeongguk got far away from the house as he had. But in doing so, he felt physically weaker and weaker. His mind isn’t done with him yet as thoughts of you start to resurface. His chest starts to tighten again. He feels cold and afraid and tired.
Jeongguk falls to his knees on the side of the road; he allows his body to go limp and fall to the ground. 
He barely remembers what happened next.
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When Jeongguk opens his eyes, bright, stale lights greet him. 
He hears beeping, faint footsteps, a voice over an intercom.
He feels something brushing his leg so gently that it takes him a while before realizing that someone is standing over him, wiping the edge of his slacks.
Jeongguk squints his eyes to get a better look at the person touching his leg. When he tries to elevate his upper body, the person in front of him feels him moving.
Jeongguk couldn’t believe who he was seeing. His panic attack must still be happening because it was impossible.
It was you.
“Oh… hi,” you start. Jeongguk is at a loss for words so he continues to stare at you.
You immediately feel self-conscious so you start to wrangle the damp cloth you were holding. 
“Are you okay? Hang on, I’ll call the nurse—”
You start to leave, but Jeongguk catches your wrist. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. You look at his hand on your wrist before Jeongguk lets go of it.
“W-what happened?”
“You’re at the hospital… um, I– I got a call from them saying you were here,” you say.
Jeongguk’s eyebrows met. He is still confused as to how or why the hospital would call you. As he looks at you, in the flesh, in front of him, the familiar ache in his chest threatens to overwhelm him again.
You look as beautiful as ever, even more so than the last time he saw you. The last time he did, you were crying to him. He did that to you. That was his fault.
“Are you hurt, anywhere, Jeongguk? I think I need to call your doctor, just give me a second—”
“No… please. I’m okay. I don’t feel any pain.” Except for my broken heart.
“Oh… okay.”
Jeongguk observes you, more particularly your hands. You still have that habit of fiddling with your fingers when you didn’t know what to do, he thinks. 
“H-how did the hospital call you? You didn’t change your number?” Jeongguk is a hundred percent sure his choice of questions was dumb, but he doesn’t have any idea as to why you’re here.
“The hospital told me I was your emergency contact… they uh– they only found your wallet on you and found this,” you explain as you handed him his wallet. Inside was an old piece of paper with your emergency contact number and e-mail address.
“The e-mail address is now defunct, but my number is still the same because I had it reactivated when I came back here…”
When I came back here, Jeongguk repeated to himself. 
Jeongguk wanted to ask you a million questions, but his throat feels dry and he is unable to speak. 
“I um, I also called Yoongi. He should be here any minute,” you continue. When Jeongguk looks at you funny, you give him a small smile— the first one you’ve given him since he woke up. “We talk sometimes.”
There is a lot of information that Jeongguk needs to process but his head hurts a lot and he makes a mental note to interrogate his friend later.
You move to grab and open the plastic bag that is on the bedside table. You pull out a pair of black socks. Jeongguk sees you hesitate a bit before speaking again.
“I got these across the street… your socks got wet from the rain.”
“Oh.” Jeongguk feels really dumb.
“May I?” you tentatively ask. “Your feet will get cold if we don’t—and you have the IV on so you won’t be able to use your hands—”
“It’s okay…” Jeongguk’s response startles you. “Thank you.”
You nod and sit by his feet to put on the new socks. Jeongguk feels the tears again but he tries to hold them back as he feels your touch and your warm fingers graze his bare, cold skin. When you’re done putting them on him, you smile to yourself.
“Does that feel better?” you ask.
Jeongguk nods and hums. He took his time to look at you and to his mild surprise, you reciprocated. A sense of stillness seemed to occur like time stopped just so Jeongguk could fully take in the sight of you.
He hurriedly tries his best to memorize all your features—old and new. Your face is smaller, your cheekbones higher; both indicative of you losing a bit of weight since he saw you last. Your eyes are softer, but also more tired. You also grew out your hair. 
To Jeongguk, you are still so beautiful.
And he missed you so much that his heart hurt again at the thought of losing you.
“How are y—” Jeongguk tries to ask, but the door to his hospital room slid open, revealing a disheveled Yoongi.
“Jeongguk, are you okay? What happened?”
Jeongguk notices you quickly moving aside to give Yoongi room. 
“I’m fine, Yoongi. I guess I just passed out and—”
“You had another panic attack, Jeongguk. That’s the second time this week. Have you taken your medication?”
Yoongi’s string of questions had Jeongguk feeling anxious. He just had the unexpected chance of seeing you again but under the most dire circumstances. Surely, it wasn’t the time for you to hear about his mental health issues.
“Yoongi, can we—” Jeongguk tried to save face, but Yoongi was faster. 
Yoongi turns to you and hugs you. “I’m sorry, ____, you must have been so confused.”
“No, not at all, I’m… I’m glad I could be of help,” you reassure. More so for Jeongguk because you know this must be very awkward for him. 
A bit of awkwardness did happen because none of you spoke for a bit. Your phone ringing was the only saving grace.
“Hello? Oh, okay. I’ll be right out,” you answer the other person on the line. Hanging up, you say, “Um… I should get going.”
“Is someone picking you up?” Yoongi asks.
“Yes, Taehyung’s just a few minutes away,” you answer.
Yoongi nods and pulls you in for another hug. He whispers his thanks and you respond by hugging him tighter.
You also approach Jeongguk a little closer. “Take care of yourself, Jeongguk.” You see the pain in his eyes, but you refuse to acknowledge it to yourself, even if Jeongguk’s eyes were brimming with unshed tears and his nose was already pink.
Jeongguk doesn’t want you to go. But again, he has no choice but to let you.
“You too, ____.”
As soon as you close the door, Jeongguk allows his tears to fall.
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As soon as you get into the car, Taehyung asks his questions.
“Why the hell did you just come out of a hospital?”
“Tae—”
“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? You’re the only one there? What happened?” You can feel the panic rising in Taehyung as he inspects you, but you just chuckle.
“Yah—you laugh?”
“I’m fine, Taehyung,” you tell him but he doesn’t look convinced. “I really am.”
“Then why were you in there?”
“I saw Jeongguk again, Tae,” you calmly respond.
Taehyung freezes. “You’re joking, right?”
“I’m not,” you answer.
“And you’re… are you okay?”
“I am.”
Taehyung knows you better than that but he gives you a pass because he could also tell you were tired and your short answers mean that you didn’t want to talk just yet.
“Do you want to talk about it over ice cream and fries?”
For a second, you felt tempted, but you just also wanted to go home. “Maybe some other time, Taehyung.”
Taehyung understands immediately and nods. “Should I take you to Woosung hyung or do I take you home?”
You do want to see Woosung because you know he is what you need, but you also don’t want to burden him with a bombshell of an event so you opt to be alone for the night. “Take me home, please.”
“Okay, ____,” Taehyung answers.
The rest of the car ride was a quiet one.
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The short walk in the hallway leading to your home is a heavy one. As you punch in your passcode, you deeply sigh. You want nothing more than to collapse on the bed and ruminate on what just happened over the past few hours.
However, the moment you open the door, a wave of delicious scents welcomes you home. As you take off your shoes, you see a familiar pair. You smile to yourself as you place yours beside it. 
You enter your home further and see Woosung with his back to you, working his way in the kitchen. As if on cue, Woosung turns around and walks toward you. 
“Hey you,” you say with a smile.
“Hi,” Woosung responds, gathering you in his arms and pulling you into a tight embrace. “Did you have a good day, today?”
You feel yourself swallow once before nodding. Woosung, ever the sensitive boyfriend, holds you tighter.
You know you can’t hide from him. So you hold on to him tighter, too.
And you allow yourself to break down and cry.
Woosung feels your body shake and he runs his hand across your back to soothe you. 
He may not know what’s going on right now, but he also knows you will talk to him when you’re ready. So he continues to embrace you; kissing the side of your head after a while.
Woosung whispers against your ear, “You’re safe with me, sweetheart.”
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taglist: @whoa-jo @nays2112 @junecat18 @jk97bam @butterymin @smdnai
tags for interested readers will be open for as long as this fic is ongoing! let me know in the comments or message me, whatever fits your preference!
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snoringkitty1 · 5 months
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ᴇᴀʀʟʏ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ ɪɴᴛᴇʀʀᴜᴘᴛɪᴏɴs..
More Aventurine..because he's my fixation right now.
Love me a traumatize gambler.
Tw: Not proof read, fluff.
ஓ๑♥๑ஓ
The rays of sunlight slowly but surely began to peek into the bedroom through the window, the curtains not closed enough to shield your eyes from the golden rays. Having been left open the night before, since you and your gambler were busy..well, mostly he was busy, finishing off buisness calls while you changed. Your eyes fluttered open after you did your best to fall back asleep..turns out the sun wasn't as blinding as the face before you when you opened your eyes. Aventurine, or as you called him, Aven, looked as picture perfect as an angel. His face was slightly squished against his pillow and his eye lashes fluttered on occasion, unkempt blonde hair framing his face. I can't blame you for staring for a while, he did have a picture perfect face after all.. His soft breathing and very presence was almost enough to send you right back to sleep, even with the blinding sunlight, that is until.. "Are you just going to stare~?" He cooed, peeking at you with one eye open, a smirk plastered on his tired face. Your wide eyed flushed face was enough to lighten up his morning, laughing to himself before holding your face, a smug look in his pretty Avgin eyes. "I know i look good..but you really can't help yourself, huh?" He mused and leaned close to peck your lips, "Ah..- uh, Good morning..?" You responded sheepishly with a smile. Aventurine chuckled and shook his head, about to lean in for another kiss before grumbling hearing his phone ring on his nightstand. "Just a sec Babe.." He huffed. Only as he rolled over did you notice most of the buttons on his pj's had come undone, only left holding on for dear life. "Ah.." He rolled over before you could comment on it, answering his phone. You didn't keep up with all the mumbo jumbo as most of the talk was formal and boring, but one thing you understood was the; "Alright. I understand. Let's schedule the interview for today." You felt your heart sink with a frown, Wrapping your arms around him and pulling him close, kissing the brand scar left on his neck. Aven glanced at you, smiling to himself seeing you get so clingy over a simple sentence. He then hung up, set his phone aside, and rolled over to face you. "Me and you have another hour to sleep in, then, how about you tag along to this.. 'interview'.? I think you'll enjoy it." He mused and tilted his head, watching your expression closely, curiously. "Oh? I can go with you this time? Count me in~" He chuckled seeing you respond so cheerfully. "Alright, perfect..i'm going back to sleep.." he hummed and nuzzled close into the crook of your neck, peppering light kisses here and there. It tickled a little, making you writhe around in his arms and making him laugh in turn..but as the kisses stopped, his soft snores ensued..lulling you off to sleep along with him.
Thanks for reading.
Feel free to leave suggestions below.
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kryptonitejelly · 1 year
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nick amaro x reader // law and order SVU
yes, we are going there - what have i done 😭 no plot, really. just a moment.
-
The last thing Nick had expected to find when walking back into the SVU bullpen was you; and yet, here he was, eyes fixed on you as his strides quickened. He notices Fin’s smirk that finds itself aimed his way as he weaves his way between Amanda and Liv to get to you, but he ignores it.
He lets his gaze drag itself over your form, head down on his desk, the lamp on his desk casting a soft glow around your features; the extra suit jacket he leaves hanging on the back of his chair draped over your shoulders. You have a laptop open in front of you, a case file and note pad within reach, all topped off by an uncapped pen lying caged between your curled fingers. He sees the pair of heels which you had shed, one standing, one lying on its side peeking out from under his desk. A dip of his gaze reveals the deep green of the dress which you had on, one of his favourite dresses on you - one that he knew you had worn in to work today in anticipation of Friday having supposed to be date night.
Nick slows his pace as he approaches you, content in the few seconds to allow himself to watch the gentle rise and fall of your shoulders. The sight stirs a mix of emotions in his chest - the swell of emotion that came rushing in whenever he set his eyes on you, and a heavy tinge of guilt. Guilt that he had to cancel the first date night you both had managed to plan after weeks of clashing schedules, guilt that you taken it so well, and guilt that you had somehow found your way here, to the SVU bullpen so that you could both head home together.
Nick drops to a knee, bringing himself to eye level with your face. He raises his hand to cup the side of your face gently. His touch on your skin is light, soft, but it makes you stir immediately.
“Hey,” Nick’s voice grounds you as you let your mind grind to a start, your surroundings shifting into focus. “What are you doing here?”
“Thought we could go home together,” your lips furl up into a gentle smile, voice soft, your eyes, still hazy with sleep, locked onto Nick’s. You forget your bearings for a moment until you hear a cough from behind Nick as various footsteps shuffle into the bullpen. You straighten up slowly, blinking the sleep from your eyes, legs stretching out beneath you as you offer a wave to the rest of the team trudging in.
“An ADA slumming it at Amaro’s desk?” Fin muses, voice joking and light.
“What would Barba say,” Munch follows, expression deadpan.
“Unbecoming isn’t it?” Liv continues with a quirk of one end of her lip.
“What can I say,” you play along, “not all of us have Barba’s flair.”
“Clearly,” Amanda states, looking pointedly at Nick which earns a series of chuckles from the rest of the team and yourself.
“Yeah, yeah,” Nick waves a hand in the air dismissively, but his gaze doesn’t leave you. You tilt your body downward slightly, hands reaching for your discarded heels. Nick notices and he is back on a knee in one fluid motion.
“Nick,” you protest as he places a hand along your calf, his other propping your heel up, helping you back into your heels. You hazard a glance behind your boyfriend, only to find the rest of the team, tactfully busying themselves with their desks. “I’m not Cinderalla,” you state, but with no real protest as you let him guide your other heel back on.
“I’m not your Prince Charming?” He teases, not caring who else heard, giving your calf a gentle squeeze before winking at you and straightening back into a stand.
“I’ll get back to you on that,” you pull a face as you turn to gather your belongings, making quick work of shoving them into your bag with Nick’s help.
“Way to hurt a man,” he places a hand on his chest as you shrug his spare jacket off your shoulders; Nick takes it from you, hanging it back on his chair.
“She could hurt you more” Fin cuts in again with a sing-song voice. It makes you chuckle, as you catch a wink Amanda throws in your direction.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be Detective Tutuola,” Nick asks all while shrugging off the jacket on his shoulders to place it over yours, letting it hang off your frame. He flicks off the light switch on his desk and picks your bag up.
“If I say no, will you let me tag along?”
Your yes comes at the same time as Nick’s absolutely not, and it earns you another series of chuckles around the room.
“Don’t call me till Monday,” Nick calls out, while threading his fingers through yours as he starts to guide you towards the lift. You barely manage to call out a goodbye, before the lift doors shut on you both.
“I didn’t-” your protest is cut short by Nick’s lips on yours, his free hand circling your waist, going over the fabric of his jacket on your shoulders. You let yourself sink into the kiss, hand sliding up his shoulder and behind his neck as the lift descends to the parking garage.
“I’m sorry I had to cancel today,” he says, forehead resting against yours as he breaks the kiss. His eyes are closed, but you flicker yours open as you run your hand from the back of his neck to cup the side of his jaw.
“You have nothing to apologise for Detective Amaro,” you end with the professional term of address in attempt to diffuse some of the guilt you see in his eyes. “Work,” you continue with a light shrug - Nick was a victim of you cancelling on him as well, and you understood.
“I was really looking forward to tonight,” he says, still apologetic as he finally opens his eyes while leaning his face into your palm.
“I can think of a few ways you can spend the rest of the weekend making it up to me,” you say, dropping your voice to a lower, almost sultry tone as you lean into him, pressing the front of your body into his. Nick responds by pulling you in closer, his hand dipping down the hem of his jacket on your shoulders to slide down onto the curve of your ass.
“Take me home Detective Amaro,” you say as the lift door dings open.
“Your wish is my command,” Nick says in response, taking the opportunity to sear another quick kiss onto your lips before tugging you out of the lift.
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sadesluvr · 9 months
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Black Christmas - S. Raglan x Reader x M. Schmidt
Mike’s job as a park ranger becomes interesting when a mysterious couple stay five nights in a winter lodge.
A/N: HOLY FUCK. This is my longest and most tiring fic in a while (for all the right reasons) and I’m really excited to share it with you! It was loosely inspired by the req and work by @dilfbabie (HERE) but this has a festive, darker spin. This is for the people who voted for a Steve/William aligned reader, and is porn with plot. Further details in the tags, but this is reminiscent of a Jordan Peele film (aka the best kind of film), so dark themes lie ahead. I really hope you all enjoy it, consider it a Christmas gift ;)
Word count: 5.3K
Tags: SMUT (Porn with plot) / Slow burn / Fem! Reader / Threesome / Brief mentions of abuse / Alcohol usage / Oral sex, male receiving / Fingering / Blowjobs / Voyeurism / Cowgirl (position) / Unprotected sex / Creampies / Psychological manipulation / Deception / Dub-Con (if you squint) / Cheating --- MINORS DNI
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MONDAY
Mike had grown to find that being a park ranger was far more amusing than working as mall security. He loved being surrounded by the natural world, and the relatively isolated nature of the job - outside of being with his colleagues - meant that he had time alone. Time to think.
It was even more enjoyable in the winter, specifically the Christmas period, where he revelled in the contrast of the bustle of the shopping district with the tranquil sightings of caribou and squirrels.
It was standard procedure for the rangers to meet the guests of the lodges they inhabited, simply as an act of trust building. Today was no different, except for the fact that he was standing at the door of one of the largest and lavish buildings in the resort, which only meant one thing…Snobby, rich inhabitants.
When you answered the door, your lips parted in a brief moment of shock, adjusting your relaxed posture so that you were upright. 
“Hi…” you said, an unplaced smile appearing on the corner of your lips. “Can I help you Officer…?”
“Mike,” he quickly added. “I’m sure you’ve seen me in the pamphlet, but I’m your designated ranger for this district. I’m here for your safety,”
You seemed somewhat confused at this, but also rather appreciative.
“Thanks…” you replied, absentmindedly fiddling with your necklace. “We— Uh, we haven’t looked at that much yet, actually…”
Mike nodded. You’d probably just moved in, likely more desperate for a shower and a nap than read pages of menial information. 
“My pager codes should be taped to the wall in the kitchen. Outside of patrols and emergencies — weather, rabid animals, that sort of thing — I’ll shouldn’t be in your hair,”
You cocked your head, seemingly interested in something about him. He was cute; boyish in contrast to his position that was usually reserved for those with blatant machismo. You wondered how he got it in the first place.
You nodded back, fingers lingering on the door as you swung it. “Oh, well that’s great, thank —“
“Babe? Who is that? You’re taking an awful while to — Oh, hello Officer…?”
Your interaction was interrupted by an older, taller man who emerged from the stairs behind you. He was dressed in an off-yellow utility suit - likely for skiing - in which a purple sweater peeked out from underneath. His hair was groomed and he wore large, slightly out of fashion glasses. He rested an arm above you, leaning it on the doorframe, and Mike squinted as he noticed that you’d shifted uncomfortably at the movement before trying to compose yourself.
He was lost in his thoughts, temporarily oblivious to the fact that the man was staring at him expectedly. 
“ — Mike, “ he stammered, giving the man his name.
“Your badge says Michael,” he replied, matter of factly.
“I prefer Mike,”
“Hm,” the man mused, the grumble seemingly coming from the depths of his chest. “That’s odd. Usually you guys are referred to by your last name…”
Mike wasn’t sure about you, but this mysterious man was definitely a rich asshole. They always assumed they knew everything. 
“It’s Schimdt — Michael Schmidt…but please, Mike is fine,” he replied, shifting his weight and pursing his lips. Strangely, the man’s blue eyes widened, and he cocked his head, softening his demeanour. Your gaze was fixed to the floor uncomfortably, and Mike could only decipher that you were embarrassed by the man’s insistence. The entire thing was borderline uncomfortable.
Yet, at that moment, he smiled.
“The name’s Steve,” he perked up, extending his hand for the smaller man to shake. He took it, and the man’s grip was firm and assuring, leading Mike to believe that he was some kind of businessman.
“Thank you, Mike,” continued sincerely, his voice noticeably soft. “Hopefully we’ll see you around then,”
Mike blinked and glanced at you. You were still, almost motionless, with Steve protectively hovering over you. He could tell he’d interrupted something.
“You too,” he replied, beginning to back away as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Happy holidays.”
TUESDAY 
During the ins and outs of his job, Mike had been trying to rack his brain, wondering if he’d ever come across this ‘Steve’ before, but to no avail. Perhaps he’d just gotten the wrong person. Michael was a very common name, after all.
He wondered about you, though. You were certainly younger than him, and although he’d come across his share of problematic couples, there was something far more striking about you than the rest. Steve’s authoritarian presence, coupled with your seemingly shy, introverted own, was usually a cocktail that led to disaster. He wasn’t a cop, but it wouldn’t hurt to keep tabs on you, would it?
It seemed that the time would come quicker than expected. The next morning he’d received a ‘111’ message from your residence, and hadn’t wasted time in making his way up to see you.
Upon being let in, he quickly found out that you were alone, with Steve having run out for groceries. Apparently, you’d been hearing ‘rattling and shaking’ in the vents, and simply feared being home alone with the threat of a robbery looming over your head. He’d checked the vents, scoping the interior out for signs of damage or entry, quickly finding out that badger had made a home inside the walls, earning a good chuckle from the pair of you.
“I’m so embarrassed!” you’d gushed, and Mike had smiled slightly at your flustered demeanour. You were dressed rather nicely for an early morning, in a chic turtleneck, pants and a pair of Moon Boots. It didn’t take a genius to decipher that you either came from, or was in contact with a lot of money.
“No problem…” he chuckled, feeling the quiet instinct to pry. “So, Steve just left you here, even with the threat of an intruder?”
Your shoulders visibly dropped at the fact. 
“Pretty much…” you sighed, masking your nervous energy by removing a mug from the coffee machine, pouring some fixings into the liquid before taking a sip, exhaling deeply.
“I know what you’re thinking,” you sighed, and Mike stiffened at the way you were so sincere, eyes locked on his own as you seemingly read his mind. “You have a point, but I like that he doesn’t baby me. But it does scare the shit out of me, knowing that we’re basically in the wilderness. Anything could happen…!”
He nodded.
“Well, you’re more likely to be attacked by kids at Santa’s Grotto than a bear,” he laughed. “I wouldn’t worry…”
You smiled, gaze unwavering as you sipped the drink, admiring the rich taste on your tongue. It was as if you were a siren, beckoning him towards you with an indescribable aura. There was more you wanted to say, but you couldn’t say it.
Biting the bullet, he cleared his throat. 
“Hey — This may not be my place, but is everything okay? When he came down the other day I saw you tense up,” Mike finished, and you let out a low hum as you contemplated the implications of his statement.
“We’re having a few issues,” you said, rolling your eyes, apparently brushing the situation off. “We’d been arguing a lot back home, and he booked this trip so we could regroup and stuff. I’m grateful, and I might even love him – but it doesn’t make me any less paranoid. I never know how he’s feeling, y’know? He’s a bit off sometimes…”
‘Off’. 
That was certainly one way to put it, Mike thought.
“...Does he hurt you?”
“God no,” you insisted. “He’s just — Well, let’s just say that he’s not all that open about his past,”
Silence. 
Mike let out a deep breath and placed his hands on his hips, musing on what you could’ve meant. He averted his gaze to glance around the cabin. It was rather lush, with floor to ceiling windows, marble countertops and rich oak accents; perhaps you were living beyond your means? Every item in his sight seemed relatively normal, blankets, keys, even a small Christmas tree with a few presents underneath. Still, it meant nothing. After all, nobody kept their secrets on display - no, those kinds of things were reserved for a bedroom…Or basement. Or the trunk of a car. Or in the psychological prison of the mind.
“…I should finish getting ready,” your voice interjected. “Thanks for the help, Mike,” you said sweetly, and he nodded before turning around and making his way to let himself out. As he placed a foot down the first step, something turned him around, and he was shocked to see that you weren’t far behind him. He hadn’t heard you follow him.
“By the way —“ he said, clearing his throat again. “I’m doing a patrol on Thursday, so I’ll be around…Just if you need to talk…”
He hoped he wasn’t being too forward.
You smiled, and this time Mike could see the emotion in your eyes.
“Good to know,”
WEDNESDAY 
One of the best things about the job were the treetop viewing platforms. It gave a 360 view of the resort, and Mike was able to see near and far with his pair of binoculars. It was certainly a task that Abby would’ve loved, if she were ever allowed to see him work.
On this particular morning, he was scoping out the usuals - people on the slopes, those taking photos, and the general assortment of vehicles that came in and out of the building. Still, he found himself looking westward toward the lodging you were living in. Call it paranoia, or call it doing his duty, he couldn’t pry himself from the familiar outline of the building.
All seemed normal, until he’d focused on the top window, the largest one of the house that sat behind a balcony. There was no sign of you on the outside, other than the table and chairs, but it was what was enclosed behind that glass that worried him.
Sure enough, you and Steve were there. He couldn’t make out from the resolution, but your face was pressed to the glass, with Steve behind you, clearly leaving little room for you to move. Mike felt his chest constrict, tongue swiping over his lips as he zoomed in, silently praying that you weren’t being hurt.
It turned out that hurt was the complete opposite of what you were undergoing. There you were; totally nude with Steve’s large arms around your throat, kissing your neck as he jerked, your body writhing about as he did. Mike knew all too well what you were doing, and it didn’t take long for the blood to rush from his cheeks to his cock, praying that his growing bulge wouldn’t be visible to anyone. 
Your eyes were half lidded as you scrambled to hold onto something, and Mike couldn’t help but wonder what your moans sounded like. Were you a screamer or a whimperer? Judging by the way the older man was ravishing you, it seemed to be somewhere in between the two.
Swallowing, he lowered the binoculars, pinching the bridge of his nose as he contemplated what he’d just done. There was no ridding the image from his mind, certainly not when he’d taken in every crevice of your body. He sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets to try to suppress his base urges, storing the image securely for later.
THURSDAY 
Mike rubbed his eyes as he slid into the company car, ready to do his rounds. He hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. 
His grip remained firm on the steering wheel, carefully navigating the elevated roads. A fresh layer of snow had settled over the past day, and the last thing he needed was to skid off into the trees. It was funny that the winter wonderland around him couldn’t mask the fact it was in a place like this where his family’s life had been turned upside down — where his brother had been cruelly and callously taken…All under his watch.
Sometimes he couldn’t live with himself.
He was at the bottom of the final stretch of lodges when he noticed two figures trudging down the hill. Their arms were outstretched and faces scrunched - and Mike recognised you instantly. Steve was following after you whilst your arms were crossed, clearly having a temper tantrum of some kind. Squinting, he tried to make himself unnoticeable as he listened in.
“I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want me to see her! I love kids!”
“It’s not that I don’t want you to see her, it’s just — Well, it’s not that easy…”
“How could this be difficult? I’m your girlfriend. She’s your daughter. Someday we’ll have to cross paths, right? Unless I’m some silly fling to you…”
“You’re not, okay? You know I love you. It’s complicated - Vanessa, she’s a little volatile —“
“I wonder where she gets that from,”
Frowning, Mike came out of the car, slamming the door with force to alert the two of you. He crossed his arms around his chest, scatters of snow crunching under his boots as he made his way towards you.
“Is there a problem?” 
“Mike,” Steve said, any specific emotion unreadable in his voice. He looked the man up and down as if to intimidate, but Mike didn’t budge. “…What’re you doing here?”
“My job,” He said sternly, to which you smirked. His eyes darted between the two of you, and he cocked his head. “Is there an issue here, or?”
Steve cast you a frosty glare, to which you rolled your eyes. Shaking yourself off, you assumed a stricter posture before focusing your attention onto the smaller man in front of you.
“Mike —“ you said, matter of factly. “Be a dear and give me a ride to the leisure centre. I need a masseuse… I have a knot that just won’t go away,”
There was nothing but fury in Steve’s eyes as Mike nodded, stepping to the side to allow you to pass through to the vehicle. As he opened the passenger door for you, he could feel the older man’s stare, burning a hole in his neck and seeping out his insides. Shutting the door, he walked round to the other side of the car, jaw ticking and lips pulled into a straight line. He barely knew Steve, but what he did know was that he was an asshole.
The car ride was silent for all of two minutes when Mike perked up, clearing his throat whilst his eyes remained on the road. He’d only snuck occasional glances at your thighs, and even then he was unable to rid the image of you nude.
“…Who’s Vanessa?”
You scoffed, slumping back in your seat as you lay your head against the car window.
“So you did hear,” you chuckled defeatedly. “His daughter. He doesn’t want me to see her,”
“Oh,” was all Mike could say, and he decided to let you draw the emotion out of your body yourself.
“I hate when he does this!” You exclaimed, arms folded. “He makes me feel so dirty! Like, what the fuck is he saying? That I’m not good enough to meet her?!”
“I’m sure that’s not the case…” Mike said softly. “I mean, if it were down to me, I know I’d love for my daughter and girlfriend to hang out, especially during the holidays,”
The statement caused you to smile, and you shook your head defeatedly. 
“I’m shacking it up with her father during the best time of year…” you said incredulously, looking out onto the icy white paradise around you. “She probably hates me…”
The thought of a girl being without her father on Christmas was enough to make you sob, salty tears pricking your eyes and eventually running down your cheeks. Covering your mouth, you let out a little whimper that alerted Mike, his kind brown eyes briefly leaving the road to watch your face. He wasted no time in pulling over, making sure the car was locked in position before he placed an arm on your shoulder, the sudden contact making you break down even more. Before he knew it, you were crying on his shoulder, hiding your face in the fleece-like insides of his jacket. The man remained quiet, but rubbed your back, narrowing his eyes as he tried to piece together your relationship.
He was beginning to lose himself in your scent when you pulled away, eyes red and slightly watery. Your faces were close, and you stared at him in a way that both made him feel guilty and aroused, eyes wide but enigmatic. He followed your gaze to his lips, and he slowly parted his own to exhale, hyper aware of the way his heart was pounding in his chest.
Brushing your fingertips across his cheeks, you leaned up to plant a kiss on his lips, your taste bittersweet as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him deeper. He certainly hoped Steve wasn’t close behind, as he didn’t let go, instead parting his lips to whisper your name as your tongues began to dance against the others’. His hands were all over your body, and he was fairly certain that your hand had made his way to his pelvis, threatening to brush his cock.
He cursed himself when he gasped at the motion, which had caused you to pull away. As if you’d been under a spell, you felt flushed, stuck between wanting to leave the car and staying with Michael.
“Thank you…” you whispered, glancing down before looking out of the windshield. The reception to the rest of the resort wasn’t far from here, and you decided you needed to clear your head. “You’re a great guy, Mike.”
FRIDAY
It had been twelve hours since you’d shared a kiss with Mike, and he was beginning to think he’d known you forever. He couldn’t get it out of his mind, even when they’d received a severe weather warning at midday. Needless to say, he was excited to ring your particular lodge…Just as long as Steve didn’t answer.
“Hey, it’s Mike…We’re expecting a snowstorm in a couple of hours and we’re instituting a 7PM curfew,”
“Shit…Really?” You’d said, somewhat muffled, and Mike could hear you biting down on the fingertips of your thumb. “ I didn’t hear anything about this — Steve’s down at the casino…”
“I’m sure word will get to him,” he insisted. “Stay safe —“
“Wait, Mike? C-Can you come over? I want to make sure everything’s reinforced…”
It was apparent that you and Mike both knew that the lodges, especially the ones you were living in, were more than secure. You’d smiled and let out an exasperated, somewhat overdramatic ‘Thanks’, and had clasped your hands in front of you, leisurely strolling around the building as he confirmed the obvious. You seemed more free, whimsical even, dressed in a deep red couture tracksuit, perfectly painted toes on display. Perhaps the kiss, and Steve’s absence, had brought out the real you.
He didn’t know he could have such an effect on someone. 
As he clicked off his flashlight, he smirked at you, to which you returned, and drummed his hand on the countertops.
“Is everything okay, Officer?” you lulled.
“A-Ok,” he hummed, watching as you walked closer towards him, a mischievous grin in your eye. He froze slightly when you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his front, but found himself relaxing into your touch, his own hands finding your hips.
“We have the house to ourselves…” you purred, beginning to stroke the back of his neck, causing him to twitch. He was simply too cute. “…And the view is lovely. But the company’s better…”
He nodded, lost in the way you began to pepper kisses to his neck and breath gently into his ear, that he hadn’t realised that the snow was beginning to fall…and it wasn’t about to stop.
“Shit…” he said under his breath, ruining the mood as he scrambled for his radio. He should’ve been back to the base a while ago.
“This is Mike calling in. The storm came in earlier than expected. I’m holed in at Lodge 305 waiting it out,”
“Received,” the static said. “Keep us updated.”
You could barely contain your enthusiasm at the fact, and Mike chuckled as you excitedly raced to the wine cabinet. It was going to be an interesting few hours.
LATER 
“…Part of me hopes Steve never comes back,” you slurred, wine bottle in hand as you sprawled out on the king bed, your tracksuit top since stripped, leaving you in a vest. It was obvious to Mike that you weren’t wearing a bra underneath, neither. 
Mike snickered.
“You’re still mad at him?”
“Yup,” you said, popping your ‘P’. “Asshole tried to propose to me at dinner yesterday. I said no,”
He was astonished that you said it so casually.
“Woah…”
“I know,” you grinned. “Wine?”
He looked up at you uncertainly. Not necessarily because it was wrong, but because he had no idea where the night would lead him if he took even as much as a sip. “I-I can’t, I’m on the job,”
“Just a little?” You whined. “For me?”
You watched him intently as he gave in, sipping the drink and holding it on his tongue. When he realised you were staring at him, you broke into a smile, edging closer to him on the bed.
“I love that you take your job so seriously,” you cheesed, running your finger down his arm.   “Was this a boyhood dream?”
“Far from it,”
“Hm,” you said curiously, cocking your head. You’d been trying to figure Mike out for a while now. “So what’s the goal?” 
“Dunno,” he shrugged. “Just to see my sister happy, I guess,”
Your heart fluttered, and there was an incomparable sensation in your loins, biting up towards your stomach. Whether it was the alcohol, the heating, or something else - your body swelled, and you couldn’t hold back anymore.
“You’re so sweet,” you cooed, in that oh-so famously position in front of his face, arms entangled in his.  “I love that about you, Mike,”
“Love?”
“I wish all guys were like you,” was all you said, and you thrust yourself on top of him, his back flat against the mattress. He didn’t stop you; letting you take charge as you straddled his torso, pressing your breasts against his chest as his hands found your body. He was insatiable, greedy yet very needy, and found himself succumbing to your every whim. 
Mike let out a whimper as you rubbed yourself gently along his clothed cock, growing irritated at the layer of fabric between you two. You nipped at his ear and giggled, dancing your hands along his body before you reached his bulge, giving it a gentle squeeze before you went back to teasing him with your hips.
“D’ya want me, Mike?” you purred. “Say the word and I’ll be yours…”
“Mmfh…” he grumbled, trying and failing to pull himself away from you, particularly as his hands found your hardening nipples, desperate to take one between his teeth. “What about Steve?” He said from below you. “I could get fired, I —“
Cupping his face in your hands, you stared him down, voice almost emotionless as you spoke.
“Mike, you may not know it, but when you’re rich, you can get away with anything…”
That was enough confirmation as he needed as he arched his back, angling himself up into your kiss. He was both surprised and aroused at how firm your grip was on him, legs quite literally locking him down below you. Your wanting mouth was wide as your chest heaved, grinning down at him as you slid your arm back, down his pants to touch his hardened cock. 
Mike shut his eyes and groaned as you tugged on him, expertly sliding your hips down his body, fixing yourself into position so that you were level his penis, your ass in his face.
“Touch me, Mike,” you slurred as you took him in your mouth, giddy as he pulled down your sweats a crack so that he could massage your ass, fingers lingering by your lacy underwear. His touch sent chills down your spine, prompting you to take him further, tongue flat against the underside of his organ. His index finger slipped into your crevice, stroking your walls before he slid a finger into your pussy, making you whimper. It had been so long since Mike had been touched - and had touched someone in such a way - that he wasn’t planning on letting go of the feeling any time soon.
Even if your boyfriend came in.
“Babe? I’m sorry, I got caught up in —“ 
“Steve!” You said sweetly, releasing Mike from your mouth with a ‘pop’. “How nice of you to join us!”
The wording struck Michael as odd, but he chalked it down to the thick layer of condescension in your voice. 
Steve stared right past you and towards Mike, narrowing his eyes. The younger man swallowed, wanting to push you off of him, but found himself drawn to the silent aura of the man, much more the way a bulge was visible in his pants also. 
“I can explain—“ he stammered, exasperated as you played with him in your hands, index finger and thumb squeezing the tip as your eyes darted between the two men. How were you so relaxed about this?
“No need to worry about it, Mike,” Steve said, his tone surprisingly sympathetic as he zipped down his own pants. “I don’t mind sharing her...In fact, I love showing my darling off,” he grinned, almost sadistically as he bared his teeth and dimples. Steve placed his larger, calloused hands on your neck, his thumb brushing your cheek affectionately as he did. Mike felt somewhat betrayed by the way there was a glint of happiness in your eye; much more the way he pulled you into a sloppy, passionate kiss as you stroked the older man instead of him.
Once the pair of you pulled apart, his blue eyes were clouded with lust as he patted your cheek, thumb tracing your lips before he pulled away. You kissed the digit tentatively, chin in the air as you glanced down at Mike, silent, but smiling. 
Ironically, you were a healthy couple playing a twisted game, and you’d been in on it all along. 
Steve cleared his throat, loosening a button on his shirt as you span around, your own pelvis holding down Mike’s own. Mike should’ve despised the situation in its entirety, but the way his cock twitched was undeniable. It was as if this fucked up situation were unlocking something within him, and he didn’t know for how much longer he could hold it back.
“…I love the way men like you look at her and want nothing more than to fuck her brains out. Do you know what it feels like to win? To know that she’s yours?” Steve drawled, watching almost in admiration as you pulled off your sweats, sliding your underwear to the side as you lined up Mike’s cock with your entrance. 
“Of course you don’t,” he said condescendingly. “...Your life is about to be hell, Mike. You deserve something good…” The older man hissed, coincidentally aligning with the hiss from Mike’s own mouth who was too much in a state of ecstasy to register the comment. His precum was dribbling on your wet folds, and he longed for a bit of friction. 
You placed a hand on Mike’s chest, smiling down at him with the same expression he’d come to fall for in the first place, paired with your soft, unsuspecting voice. 
“Do you wanna fuck me, Mike? I bet you’d make me feel so good…”
“Y-Yeah..” he whimpered lowly, and he moaned as you sunk yourself onto his bare cock, gripping your body at the tight, wet pressure of your gummy walls. Steve hummed in amusement as he watched you begin to ride him; slowly at first, giving him enough leeway to insert himself into your mouth. 
He’d had you a million times before, but he never grew tired of the sensation. He gripped the back of your head as he moved your face up and down his shaft, groaning as he fucked your mouth in tandem.
“You’ve always been a maneater, haven’t you baby?” Steve cooed. “My little slut,” he spat, and Mike furrowed his brows, feeling his cock twitch in you at the statement. You were clearly just a few rich people with a perverted pastime, and he’d been taken as collateral. He’d probably feel disgusted in the morning, but as of right now he was in heaven.
You steadied yourself on Mike’s cock, pressing down a hand into his pelvis as Steve’s grip tightened on your face, greedy as one hand reached down to grope your breasts.
“Go on, Mike,” he chuckled arrogantly. “Give em a feel,”
You took Mike's hand in your own, throwing your head back at the sensation of being fondled and prodded by two men simultaneously. Steve’s cock was hitting the back of your throat, your nose buried into the fabric of his clothes, stray grey pubic hairs tickling your nose as he did. Mike’s dick was buried in you, and you were 99% sure you’d sheathed himself to the hilt. You hadn’t even needed to move your hips for that long, and Mike had begun to take agency as rock his hips up into your own, the skin-on-skin sounds borderline pornographic.
“Shit,” Mike whispered, feeling his stomach begin to knot up, and you gasped, talking around Steve’s cock that sent vibrations through the spectacled man’s lower half.
“Are you gonna cum, Mikey? You wanna fill this pussy up?” you teased, circling your hips uncontrollably, Mike’s penetrative thrusts becoming shallow but frequent. He groaned in response, and Steve chuckled, one hand your back so he stabilised you, making sure your lush lips were still attached to his shaft. Mike may have been getting the goods, but he owned you, and his pleasure came first. Even in a group of three. 
Feeling closer to your own orgasm, you slammed your hips down onto Mike, holding him in position as he came; desperately clutching the sheets as he spilled into you, mumbling to himself incoherently. Steve was gracious enough to pull himself from your mouth, a bridge of spit connecting you two as he did. Instinctively, you jerked him off, your warm hands sliding up and down effortlessly on his sloppy dick, still grinding your hips on Mike as he was beginning to come down from his high.
Steve came with a grumble, and it wasn’t long until you followed him after, grinning mischievously as fresh white trails of his seed painted your face. Glancing over at Mike - who looked totally spent - you ran your tongue along Steve’s pink shaft to clean him up, writhing as you stimulated Mike’s softening cock, producing a groan from the brunette. 
You were light headed as you fell back onto the sheets, smiling as Steve stroked your semi-nude body adoringly, lulling you off to sleep.
THE MORNING AFTER
Mike was awakened to a banging on the door, swearing under his breath as he contemplated how this looked. Sitting up, he scanned the room for a sign of you, or even Steve, but to no luck. 
He looked out of the window. The snowstorm was over.
Perhaps you’d just gone out for breakfast.
He hurried his clothes on, placing his hands on his hips as he tried to shake the hazy memories of the night before. He was just in time as an officer entered, worried as he saw his colleague enter with guns.
“W-What’s going on?” he asked, squinting. 
“We have a warrant for a visitor's arrest,” he drawled. “A Mr William Afton…?”
Mike frowned. The name wasn’t familiar.
The officer raised a brow, leaving the room once the coast was clear. As he did, Mike caught a glimpse of the poster in his back pocket, the face painfully recognisable. 
WANTED: Child abduction and murder.
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worldofkuro · 1 month
Text
Painted Smile
Painted Smile XXXVI
<- Previous Chapter I
Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.
Notes: Sorry, it's been so long isn't it ? I'm working and I only have Sunday as my day off so... Maybe I'll write longer chapter.. I don't know yet. But now, please enjoy today's chapter! I've been told the past never let you go... How depressing.
It’s been a few days since Trey’s attempt on your family’s life. You have been sick since you had healed Alastor, and now you had two protectors with you. Alastor couldn’t work yet, so he stayed at home, taking care of everything. 
“ Mommy, do you want water ?’” You peeked at your daughter who was looking at you worriedly.  
After the fire, your parents and Marie came to visit you. They were so worried, it was a cute scene to watch them fuzz about you. Fortunately, they didn’t stay too long and you managed to have a discussion with people much more interesting.
“ Papa Legba, Baron Samedi..?” You asked calmly, sitting in the living room, your daughter on your lap. You observed Alastor who was standing up, his arms crossed behind his back, his usual smile on his face. He seemed pleased with himself, you wondered why..
“ Little lady… Alastor…”
You turned your head to the old man with a soft smile. No matter the years that have passed by, Legba still looked the same. He was still looking at you with a gentle gaze, full of knowledge you wished you possessed. He was sitting on a chair, with his cane between his legs.
“ Hello, little doll. How are you, Alastor?”
You grinned at Baron Samedi’s greeting. He was leaning against the wall, his cigar in his mouth and his usual amused smile on his lips. He seemed relaxed enough to have the discussion you were dying to have.
“ Well, goodmorning, gentlemen. I think you already know why you were called today.” Alastor mused as he moved toward the center of the living room. You smirked, he always loved the attention huh… “ Baron Samedi, something to say perhaps ?”
“ Why would I? I have no obligation to you.” The spirit smirked, blowing the smoke out of his mouth toward Alasto who didn’t even flinch. 
“ Maybe not me, but my daughter? I think you do.” 
You glanced at Alice who was looking at her father, her head tilted. She seemed curious about what her father was doing... Could she not see the spirit..? Yet, she could interact with your shadows… You sighed, kissing her forehead once more. You still didn’t know if bringing your child into this spiritual world was a good idea… Maybe you should wait a little longer..? But perhaps it was too late? She managed to create a shield around Alastor and herself… 
You closed your eyes, not quite listening to Alastor and the Baron’s conversation. You just wanted your family to be safe, that was the reason you made a deal. To protect Alastor… And now, your little girl… At first, Alastor’s father was the enemy, the one stopping you from a happy ending… Now… It’s someone older than you, who has had his eyes on you since you were a teenager… You couldn’t help but shiver at the thought.
“ Mommy…” You peeked down on Alice who was looking at you, a grimace on her face that made you chuckle. “ It smells bad.”
You tilted your head to the side and then tried to find the odor your daughter was smelling. Maybe you left some meat outside..? No, you really couldn’t smell anything bad… 
“ Where does it smell, Alice?”
She jumped from your lap and sniffed the air. You saw Legba watching the little girl with a soft gaze, an amused smile on his lips. You giggled when Alice asked her father to stop talking because she couldn’t concentrate on the smell if he kept talking. You winked at your husband who rolled his eyes at his daughter.
“ Alice, what did I tell you?”
“ What ?”
“ When I seem to be talking ‘alone’, you don’t talk.” Alastor sighed, shaking his head.
“ But Dad! It smells… bad! Like… Like when we were in the fire but worse !” She claimed, pouting while her arms were crossed on her chest.
Was she traumatized enough to smell the fire once again? After all, when you almost drown on the lake, years before, you would sometimes think your lungs were full of water and you couldn't breathe anymore. Thank God, you weren’t alone when that had happened, and you had been taken care of easily. 
Was it the same for Alice?
You stood up but Alastor made a gesture for you to stay sitten. 
“ Where does it smell, Alice?”
Your eyes followed Alice who was walking hesitantly toward Baron Samedi. The Baron truly seemed surprised when Alice pointed toward his cigar, as so were you. She didn’t seem to see him, but she could smell the cigar he was smoking..? What did it mean? You wanted answers now, when did you lose control of all the information?
“ Baron Samedi, please, explain yourself.” You asked, not caring if you were being disrespectful.  Right now, Alice’s safety was your priority.
“ Well… I’m as surprised as you..,” He crouched in front of Alice who was pinching her own nose. It seemed like she really didn’t like the smoke that was coming from the Baron. She truly didn’t seem to see him.. “ I thought she would be able to see me now.” 
You glanced at Papa Legba who was looking at Alice with a soft smile. He stood up and walked toward your daughter with his cane taping the floor loudly. Your eyes widened as Alice turned her eyes toward the noise before rushing into your arms, scared.
“ Mommy !”
You stared at her then at the two spirits. You were completely dumbfounded, your little girl could.. feel spirit ? You shouldn’t be this surprised, she was always playing with your shadow since she was a baby. She was also used to seeing you telekinesis objects in the house, she was used to …magic.. but..
“ I see you are full of questions, little lady. Alice seems to be very sensitive to spiritual energy…”
“  Can Alice really feel the spirit around her..? Then why can she play with my and Alastor’s shadow ..?” You asked, trying to calm your daughter that was trying to get your attention, pointing to where she heard the noise.
“ Well, my dear. Look at her parents.” Alastor claimed, with a proud smirk. You shook your head with a small grin. He was so full of himself… “ But what I want to know is, why Baron Samedi..? Why didn't Kalfu or you, Papa Legba, were the one to reach her?” 
“ Well, if we resume everything. Alastor, your blood is powerful, Voodoo has always been in your reach, it always has been in your life thanks to your mother. You tainted your wife’s blood with yours, making her able to see spirits and even to work with them.” Papa Legba recounted, his hand pointing toward you. “ Then, you bound yourself together, into the spiritual realm…the vessel being a deer plushie… A plushie your daughter never let go off.”
You peeked at Alice who had calmed down, her eyes were staring at Papa Legba’s position but you could feel she wasn’t seeing anything. She was mostly trying to see who you were talking to.
“ Alastor, you made a deal to kill, so you could be stronger. Your wife has made a deal with Death to protect you. You named your daughter after a brutally deceased friend. Death has always been around you, so , wouldn't it be logical for your daughter to be close to Death too..? Now, the real question is: Is Alice protected by Death..? Or cursed by it?”
You felt like drowning. Your little baby… No, she didn’t have to pay for your sins. You peeked at Baron Samedi who was listening quietly to the conversation, never speaking.
Why? Wasn’t he on your side? Should he not just say Papa Legba was doing a horrible joke to tease you? 
Dear, since when is Death on our side?
‘ But, he protected her when I was pregnant..!’
Don’t trust him so easily. Don’t think Death is on your side, he might have saved our daughter, but he didn’t save your friend, didn’t he? Always doubt people’s will.
Your eyes widened as you realized that you saw this spirit, the one who owned Death, almost as a friend. You forget he was a powerful spirit, that he could watch you die without batting an eye… You made a mistake… While you saw him as a friend, Alastor saw him as a transactional tool.
Who was in the right ?
While you worked with spirits, Alastor owned them…
Who was wrong?
“ I won’t hurt you daughter, little doll.”
 You turned your head toward the Baron, septic. Alastor was right, why would the gatekeeper of Death help you? You didn’t do anything to be granted such favors… And yet…
“ Don’t think too hard, I’m just amused by the situation. I don’t remember the last time a child was able to use some of my powers without me being summoned.” The Baron smirked, going closer to your daughter who turned her eyes toward the spirit. “ Now, this little genius should learn how to control her power ! Imagine if she used her power at school, how dangerous… Oh, let’s do that!”
After that conversation, you fell sick for the next few days. Nothing serious of course, nothing worth fussing about. But your daughter and husband weren’t thinking the same thing as you. They demanded that you stay at home and rest. That was why you were in bed, with your daughter coming with a glass of fresh water.
“ Thank you, my cutie pie.” You kissed her forehead which made her beam at you. You were trying to reassure her that you were feeling great, but you did feel faint, and you wanted to vomit most of the time. It seemed like the fire’s accident was still having an effect on your body…
You chuckled when you saw Alice ordered Alastor’s shadow to bring you another glass of water. She sat next to you, hugging Eamon against her little body. Your stare fell on the plushie. You couldn’t help but remember when your parents gifted you with it. It was white as snow, and now he was reddish because of Alastor’s blood because of his father’s beating…
Death and violence were really around your family right…
“ Mommy, I learned something at school! Do you know how to say blood in french?” Alice beamed at you, excited to share her knowledge. “ It’s “ Sang” ! Does that mean that our family name is… related to blood?” She tilted her head, her curious eyes staring at you.
Blood huh..
You observed your daughter, so innocent and yet she bore such a heavy name. She bore your deceased best friend's name, and Alastor’s name, who was tainted with so much violence. You chose to take Alastor’s name, you had the choice, but your daughter… Would she bear it?
“ Alice, are you happy with your name? With Mommy and Dad?” You asked, your voice weak. You were so scared your past would weigh on your daughter because of your decision… Violence, murder, blood… Were you a good mother? Was that all you could give her..? 
“ I love it ! “ She stood up on your bed, jumping on the mattress, being mindful of your body. “ I have the name of Mommy’s best friend! You told me she was like a princess ! She was super funny! And she was very pretty! “ She laughed, clapping her hands together. “ Sanglar is also a good name! It scares my classmate ! But if it means blood, then it means that Mommy and Dad are tied to me forever !” She jumped in your eyes with a big grin. “ We are going to be a family forever !” 
You weren’t aware of the tears in your eyes. You didn’t know you needed to hear such words from your daughter. It was too clever for her age, she wasn’t supposed to answer such things at your question. Shouldn’t children of her age be confused if their mother asked such a question…? Was it normal…?
You chuckled, squeezing your baby in your arms.
Since when were you trying to be normal? You ran after Alastor knowing he wasn't what ‘normal’ was supposed to be. He asked you to marry him just before ending his father. You had your first time just after your first murder, next to a corpse. Your best friend would ask you to kill people for her sake.
Who do you think you were?  Normality isn’t for you anymore. And you never craved it.
You left the bed, with your daughter in your arms and Alastor’s shadow behind you with a big smile. You weren’t feeling sick anymore, and you wanted to see your husband!
You followed Alastor’s shadow, which guided you toward the lake behind the house. You smiled when you saw your husband. Who was doing… What was he doing ..?
“ Ah, there you are. Darling, why don’t you let  Alice down for a bit?”
You tilted your head but did as you were told. Alice ran toward her father who patted her head three times. You walked toward your husband who kissed your forehead. You closed your eyes, feeling your body relaxed to his presence.
Relaxing near a killer… And you wanted to be normal?
“ Today, we’ll start Alice’s training.” Alastor whispered in your eyes, his voice deep and smooth. You couldn’t help but shiver, when was the last time you heard his voice like that…” Now, Alice! Do you want to know my and your mother’s secret?”
“ I already know!” Your daughter claimed which made Alastor raise an eyebrow, smiling down at her. “ Always smile and wear red ! “
You laughed out loud while Alastor chuckled. Is that how Alice saw you? Two people who always smiled and wore red? Funny thought…
“ Not quite, but close enough. I have three rules I have taught your mother, do you want to know them?” Alastor asked and grinned when Alice nodded furiously. “ The first rule..”
You smiled as Alastor taught Alice the rules he had given you when you were kids. You sat down on the grass as Alice repeated the rules then smiled at her father. She was trying so hard to get praises from him, it was adorable. 
“ Now…” Alastor’s eyes turned red. “ Do you see my shadow ?”
“ Shadie? Yes, I see him.” She nodded, waving at the shadow which waved back. You giggled at the shadow’s name, it seemed to like it.
“ Try to create a shield so he can’t touch you.” Alastor said, crossing his arms on his chest. You frowned. wasn’t he going to help her more than just ask her to do something. You stared at your little baby who was so confused… Aah..
You stood up and walked toward your daughter, kneeling next to her.
“ Do you remember what I told you? When you are feeling overwhelmed ?” You waited for her to nod. “ Then, let’s imagine, Shadie..? Shadie was being mean, so you want to be alone a little bit.” You raised your hand in front of you, your daughter mimicked you. “ Now, imagine a shield around you.”
You smiled as Alice closed her eyes, frowning very hard, trying so hard to material a shield but without any success. She opened her eyes and looked at you sadly. You smiled at her, kissing her cheek, whispering sweet reassurance.
“ Can Eamon help me..?”
You tilted your head but nodded. You walked back inside the house, letting Alice with her father. Should you be alarmed she was so attached to this plushie..? You entered the room and took the plushie.
You stared at it, then you hugged it, feeling some relief in your body. Even after all these years, it was still your little protector..? Maybe Alice felt the same way, and that’s why she needed this plushie. She must have felt out of place everywhere she was because of how she was…
You walked back toward your little family but stopped at the scene in front of you.
Alastor had one knee on the floor, behind Alice, and was showing her how to place her hand in front of her. What made you nostalgic was that the gestures he was teaching her, were the first gestures you used to when you first used your power.
Alastor was teaching your daughter with your techniques…
Why were you feeling so emotional..?
You walked toward them with a fond smile. You felt your breath shake as your husband and your daughter lifted their heads to watch you approach. Alice gave you a big smile, while Alastor looked at you with an amused smirk.
Yes, you didn’t care for normality if it was your everyday life, seeing your husband teaching your daughter.
Alice took Eamon in one arm and then raised her little hand in front of her. You took a step back, and so did Alastor, to watch if something happened. She was trying so hard, you really were rooting for her…
Your shadow moved toward Alice and patted her head, trying to encourage her. You wondered how you could help your daughter… How hard could it be to try something you didn’t know existed… How difficult could it be to believe in something you didn’t understand…
“ Darling.”
You turned your eyes toward Alastor who was staring at Alice. You frowned and then looked at your daughter, still shieldless. She had her head down, mostly defeated by her failure and you knew Alastor wouldn’t comfort her… You sighed before walking toward your little baby.
“ It’s okay, baby. Mommy did when she was older, you know?” You smiled, approaching your hand toward her and flinched when you felt how cold her skin was. “ Alice ?”
Your daughter raised her big eyes toward you.
Big purple eyes.
You took a step back, as she tried to grab your hand. You could see she was confused and scared so as soon as you composed yourself, you hugged her.
“ I’m scared… It’s cold… My eyes are like ice..” She mumbled, squeezing Eamon against her.
You kissed her forehead, humming against her, reassuring her like you could. Even if you made a deal with the Baron, you weren’t fully attached to him like you were with Papa Legba, so you didn't really know how Alice was feeling.
The first time you met Legba, you felt hot, warm… When you are using the Baron’s power, you feel cold… Was that how Alice felt?
“ It’s okay, look at mommy..” you whispered and stared into your daughter’s eyes. Her brown honey eyes have been replaced by a vivid purple hue. Even if it was strange, and in a way… sad, it truly meant Alice was attached to Voodoo and Baron Samdi, she was beautiful.
You felt Alastor kneeled next to you, patting his daughter’s head.
“ This world is dangerous, Alice.”
“ Why…?” She whispered, looking at her father.
“ Because people like us exist.” Alastro stated. He tilted his head with an amused smile. “ What do you see? Come on, tell me.”
“ But I’m scared…”
“ Scared? Why would you?  your mother and I, are here? What could happen ?”
You smiled at your daughter who seemed to be reassured by her father’s words. You knew Alastro wasn’t trying to reassure her, he was stating the truth…
Alice began to look around, she even let you go and walked a little further with Alastor's shadow and your own, as her guard. You turned your head toward Alastor.
“ So, what do we do about John?”
After explaining to Alastor everything that happened with John, your husband didn’t say much. You had begged him to share his thoughts because you couldn’t be left in the dark with the recent evenement. His only answer was that he needed time, but he would talk to you soon.
Soon was now.
“ Well, what about him? Don’t you want to kill him dear? Or did you change your judgment because he was nice with you?” He tilted his head toward you with a menacing smile. “ Because he plays the role of the prince, the same prince you used to read when you were younger? Fighting his family for a dame?”
You frowned at this. What was he trying to do ? You didn’t say you wanted John to side with you. You were asking him his opinion.
“ Alastor, what are you talking about..?”
“ Do you really think John is going to betray Trey?”
“ It’s just… I can feel it, Alastor. John doesn’t know about Trey’s sins.” You said, taking his hand in yours.
“ Mnhn… Then, I’ll tell you what I know. John will never stop being in love with you. If you want to use him to bring Trey down, then I’m all ears my dear. But I know you, oh, I know you. I know your deeper fears, your deeper desires…” He leaned toward you and whispered in your ears. “ You want your happy ending from your books.”
You gasped, stepping back. You felt anger inside of you while Alastor was staring at you with a big smile.
“ John isn’t my happy ending!”
“ I know, dear.  But, I feel like you want that fairy tale ending and you know… I can’t give you that… Oh well, I could.” He kissed the back of your hand, staring into your eyes with that obsession you always craved. “ Say it, dear. And I shall be the perfect boring gentleman and give you that happy sappy bland ending.”
You imagined that life for a moment. That tasteless life, where your only problems would be to make sure Alastor would come home to a warm dinner… Long gone would be the excitement to gain new skills, to talk with spirits, to learn things from Papa Legba, to laugh with the Baron, to watch your shadows play together, to watch this bland life where Alice would be worth only as a married woman.
Long gone would be the bloodlust and mostly, the Alastor you loved, you craved, you were crazy about.
“ If I asked for that life, kill me.”
Alastor's eyes widened, his grip on your hand getting tighter. You could see his eyes staring at you, mostly trying to see if you were serious. He leaned toward your face.
“  Really..? Would you let me kill you?” He whispered, his voice shaking with desire. You stared at him, your heart beating faster, excitement pooling inside your belly. You grasped his tie and forced his lips against yours, moaning in relief at the feeling of this desperate, dark and twisted kiss.
“ Yes.”
After this, Alastor began to train Alice every afternoon. Of course you were there to make sure he wasn’t working her too hard. Alice seemed to learn quickly, way too quickly. You were worried, should a child learn so quickly…? But Alastor never asked her to do anything more than use her eyes. She could see things when her eyes were like that, she would point at something near the forest and when you walked over, it would be the corpse of an animal.
You guessed that she could see the spirit of animals, if they recently died. Alastor and you couldn’t be capable of such talents. You would stop her coming toward a decomposed animal, you didn’t want her to see that yet.
But of course, she was still a child with a power too strong for her.
The following nights, Alice would wake up by screaming in fear. Alastor and you would rush inside the room and she would talk about how the dead animals wanted to eat her, or come close to her.  
She would sleep in your bed, almost every night but you could see she was becoming more tired as days passed by. The nightmares were restless, and your little girl was becoming weaker as day went by.
You were at home, baking your daughter’s favorite dessert, as she was at school, when the phone rang. You wiped your head full of flour before answering.
“ Mrs. Sanglar? This is Gwen, Alice’s teacher. I’m calling because Alice fought against one classmate, could you come here around 4pm?”
You looked at Alastor who was leaning on the wall, next to you. You were dumbfounded, Alice fought against someone ? She could be full of herself, like your darling husband, but she wasn’t violent.
Alastor took the phone from your hand, and answered with a smile.
“ We are coming right now.”
As soon as you entered the school, you hasted toward the director’s office. You knocked and entered the room where Alice and another boy were sitting, their head down. Alastor walked toward your daughter and put his hand on her shoulder.
“ Now, what do we have here?”
You kneeled next to your daughter as the director said that he was waiting for the boy’s parents to come. You stroke her cheek with a reassuring smile. 
“ What happened, baby?”
“ I’m so tired mommy… Everything seems too loud… when… When someone touches me… It feels like.. It stings…I don’t want them to be near me… It’s too much..” She mumbled, her eyes becoming watery. You hugged her, carrying her in your arms.  You could see Alastor’s gaze on Alice, was he making sure she was okay..?
“ Little boy, do you want to explain why you fought against a girl?”
“ I’m sorry sir.. I just wanted to play with her… But then, she pushed me so hard without using her hands, I saw it! She was being weird ! Talking alone ! Looking where nobody was there! …She freaks me out…”
You frowned when you heard the boy’s explanation but didn’t do anything more. They were all children, he was just scared of the unknown. You kissed your daughter’s forehead, rocking her against your chest. 
“ May we go? Alice has been having nightmares, which explain why she is so tense and prone to violence. It won’t happen again.” You smiled to the director who didn’t acknowledge you, he turned his face toward your husband. 
“ Sir, I think–”
“ Did you just ignore my wife?”
The temperature dropped, making everyone freeze. You turned your eyes toward your husband who was smiling at the man, teeth bared. The poor man was trembling, shaking his head.
Aahh.. How long since someone was scared of him. How long since you had seen your husband as the predator he was…
You smiled pretty behind him, looking at the director who was trying to apologize to you, not that you cared anyway. Alastor whispered something in his ear before leaning back. You wished the wind would have brought you the sentence Alastor said that made the poor man pale so quickly.
“ Now, since everything is settled, we might go on our merry way. Have a nice day, gentlemen !”
Alastor guided toward the exit before driving you back home. Alice was in your arms.
“ Am I in trouble..?”
“ Why would you be?” Alastor asked, with an amused smile.
“ I… I pushed the boy… I did what mommy told me when I’m feeling overw…ower…”
“ Overwhelmed?”
“ Yes, that.” She said.
Alastor just snickered at that but didn’t ask for more. You hugged your daughter during the drive home, letting her fall asleep against your chest.
Once you were home, you put her in your bed with Eamon, knowing she would feel better if she saw the plushie by her side. You walked down the stare and freezed. Alastor was in his office, you could feel him.
And yet, you felt like you were being watched.
Trey..? No, it wasn’t the same feeling..
You closed your eyes and sat on the sofa. You concentrate on your yourself and feel your soul coming out of your body.  As soon as you did it, you could hear Alastor coming into the living room, sitting next to you, making sure your body wouldn’t hurt itself.
“ Dear, I guessed you felt something ?” He watched toward your direction without seeing you.
You flew around the house, trying to find the subject of your screaming instinct.
Maybe you were just being paranoid? 
You sighed, ready to go back to your body but stopped when you felt something in front of you. You flew toward the front door and looked around it. Nothing… Were you being paranoid?
Your eyes widened when you saw it and then everything scattered.
Alice woke up screaming while you were being tugged back in your body. Alastor took your face between his hands, his gaze serious.
“ What did you see?”
You were breathing hard, not being able to speak. You shook your head and pointed toward the door before running toward your bedroom where Alice was crying, squeezing Eamon against her. You hugged her hard, against you. Could she feel your inner turmoil after what you saw?
Were you even sure you saw it ?
You calmed Alice down before turning your head toward Alastor who came toward you with a sinister look even though his smile was still present. You stared at him, hiding Alice’s face against your chest.
“ Did you find it ?”
Alastor nodded before walking toward you, opening his palm.
Inside your husband’s hand was an eye. A human eye.
“ I think we know who this belongs to.” He whispered. 
Even if he was calm, you knew he was shaken. His gaze wasn’t leaving the eye. You knew who it belonged to, and you knew he did too. This eye he had seen since he was a child, the eye of the only man who tortured him all his childhood.
“ Your father’s.” You whispered.
He only nodded, before sighing. He shook his head, mumbling without you understanding anything.
You looked at Alice who calmed down a little. 
“ What did you dream about my baby?” You tried to smile at her, even if she had nightmares, sometimes it would be so bizarre that it would made you laugh and you would create a whole funny story about it.
“ A man was staring at me… With one eye missing.”
Alastor’s head snapped toward Alice while you froze, feeling a shiver in your whole body. He kneeled in front of her, his gaze fixated on her expression.
“ What did he look like?”
“ I don’t know… I didn’t want to watch him..?” She sniffed.
You observed Alastor’s face, he couldn’t hide how affected he was by this news. You put your hand on his shoulder with a reassuring smile.
“ Alastor… She dreamed of him. Don’t you remember, sometimes, Papa Legba would take my soul to show me something important ? Maybe the Baron did the same thing.” You said, with a soft smile even if you were shaken by this revelation. Legba always told you he would use your dream to give you information, did Baron Samedi do the same thing?
“ Yes… Maybe she was being warned, just like you used to.” He sighed, his hand going through his hair. “ Does that mean someone has already found my father’s corpse?”
In the deafening silence, you could only hear Alice's little voice.
“ I wasn't sleeping.”
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jjksblackgf · 1 year
Text
champagne & suds | pjm (m)
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pairing — park jimin x reader summary — a romantic trip is only complete with a nice bottle of champagne and the comfort of a bathtub. genre — smut, pwp, established relationship rate — 18+ word count — 1.2k warnings — explicit sexual content, oral sex (m receiving), facial.
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“How are you feeling?”
“The pressure is amazing,” you answered the masseuse, though your voice was a bit muffled by the padded table underneath you. You didn’t care if they didn’t hear you. It was hard to care about anything when you were this relaxed.
The sound of the waves crashing into the shoreline of the beach made you sink deeper into relaxation. The smell of the ocean complemented the mint scented oil the masseuse used to work on your back, the knots left by the lengthy airplane travel were long gone. 
Underneath the shading of your private balcony, you felt like Jimin crafted nirvana on earth just for you. You had to thank him somehow.
One hour passed way too quickly, and after the massage was done, you sat quietly and enjoyed the view for a few minutes. The palm trees, the sandy beach that felt like velvet, the almost crystal-clear blue water, the pink hues as they announced the sunset… Fiji was spectacular.
“Homesick already?” Jimin called from the doorframe. You turned to look at his angelic face. His smile was too lovely for a man that had a body like his. He tied his robe loosely, so it was easy for you to see his defined muscles. Your eyes traveled his torso, salivating at the sight of his navel. “Eyes up here,” he joked, taking you out of your fantasies.
You made no comments, just hurried to his side and hugged his neck.
“Thank you,” you said earnestly. “You’re the most amazing boyfriend,” you said, placing a kiss on his lips.
“Wow, and the day isn’t even done yet,” he said with an eager grin. “Close your eyes,” he requested.
“For what?”
“For the rest of your relaxing day,” he said exasperated. “Get with the schedule, babe!”
“Fine, fine!” You finally agreed and closed your eyes.
“Don’t peek,” he commanded, pulling you around the room. You were extra curious now. What was he planning? The room was already romantic as it was, with a canopy bed and a loveseat close to a fireplace. How was he supposed to take that to the next level? “Just a few more steps. Now turn to your left a little… Okay, there. Stop.” He instructed. Wherever you were, there was the scent of vanilla, and maybe… roses? You weren’t sure.
Jimin finally let you open your eyes, and the sight made you want to cry. The bathtub was surrounded by candles — scented, you guessed — and filled with rose petals. The light was turned off, but the room was lit by the sunset, being showcased by the floor to ceiling window. 
“I thought you might want to take a bath before our dinner reservations,” he said, hugging you from behind, letting you soak in the view of his romantic gesture. 
“You’re not proposing to me, are you?” you whispered, a little panicked, a little excited. Maybe he was… The honeymoon would have to be here, that’s one thing you knew.
But Jimin laughed. “Not today,” he answered, turning your body so you’d face him. “How are you liking your trip so far?” he asked, already trailing kissed down your neck.
“It’s no wedding proposal,” you joked, “but it’s not too shabby either.”
“Good,” he said, now biting your earlobe. The butterflies in your stomach were nothing compared to the beat of your heart. You closed your eyes, feeling the warmth of his lips against your jaw and neck. “I think we had too much fabric in between us,” he mused in between kisses.
“I think so too,” you managed to whisper. Your hands were surprisingly graceful, untying his robe as he untied yours. Robes down and you were free to caress his torso, tracing his abdomen with the tip of your fingers. 
His hand went to your neck, and the kiss he initiated was tender. The flutter was no longer only on your stomach, and you wanted to feel his hands all over your body.
“Let me take care of you,” you were heartbroken to stop his caresses, but there was a more pressing matter that needed your attention.
Jimin was confused, but curious, so he went along with your demands with your directions. Inside the bathtub, you cleared a seat for him at the edge, where the rose petals could almost touch his knees.
“Can you tell me what’s happening?” he asked, puzzled. But when you fell to your knees before him, and trailed kisses on his inner thighs, his chuckle was seductive. He still took care of you, caressing your back with warm water as best he could.
He wouldn’t have time to focus on that for longer. Your lips enveloped his length, and a throaty hiss came out of his lips. You massaged him with your tongue, enjoying the feel of his dick growing inside of you.
His palm pressed against the back of your neck, guiding your movements to the speed of his liking. And you were all for pleasing him. You pressed your tongue to his tip, tasting his precum, and he grunted.
That sound, almost animalistic, sent shivers down your spine. With the help of one hand, you went back to massaging his length, enjoying the sounds he made when you pressed his base with your fingers.
You retrieved your lips very slowly, and with a loud pop, your mouth was out entirely. Using only the tip of your tongue, you circled the tip of his cock again while massaging his length with one hand. 
“Oh, my God.” he groaned, running his hands through his face. You licked him from base to tip and when he was enveloped in your mouth again, he tried his best to thrust his hips. “Shit,” he hissed.
He was close, and it didn’t seem like he wanted to delay the sensation. He continued to grunt and moan your name, in a big jumbled mess. You paid attention to the speed and pressure he liked, now moaning too. Before you knew, he yanked himself out of your mouth and finished himself off, climaxing on your face. 
Thank heavens you had easy access to water.
“I love you so much,” he panted. His cheeks were flushed and some hair strands were stuck to his sweaty forehead.
“I love you too,” you said, planting a kiss on his inner thigh.
He helped you get up from your knees and seated you down in the bath, before taking his place behind you. He hugged you tightly, and you could feel his heartbeat through your back. He was trailing kisses along your shoulder when you spotted a bucket of ice with an open champagne bottle and two empty glasses, alongside some chocolates.
“Is there an engagement ring hidden in one of these?” you joked, garnering his attention. 
“Now I feel like there should be one, but it’s just the regular kind. You know, the ones without expensive jewelry inside,” he quipped. 
“Oh, so my ring is expensive,” you commented and he laughed out loud. “Well, at least the champagne is expensive.”
“We were truly made for each other.”
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