#also it SNOWED today A LOT MORE THAN IT WAS SUPPOSED TO

[six-of-ravens]

today has become one of those days where I berate myself for not doing enough of all my hobbies and exercising and cleaning and cooking and watching things and such and ohh man how easy it is to gaslight myself into believing making a "schedule" will fix all my problems.

[enhard]

sim jaeyun — “you’re in safe hands”

pairing: s.jy x fem!reader

not proofread, enjoy! (MINORS DNI)

: you can’t handle looking at your boyfriend’s nice and veiny hands without doing anything about it.

cw: SMUT SMUT ALLLL SMUT, everything is consensual, hand kink (obviously), a bit of size kink, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, riding, jake calls you princess most of the time, playing with your tits, slight choking, mentions of sending nudes??, lots of whimpers from him, jake slaps your mouth, established relationship, jake has a drivers license woahwoahwoah

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you faintly hear the ringtone of your phone through the buzzing in your ear. you slowly open your eyes, let out a sigh and immediately grab your phone to stop that annoying sound.. until you look at the now lit up screen of your phone, that your boyfriend jake is calling you.

you quickly sit up in shock, trying to clear your throat and answering the call, remembering that you were supposed to go on a date today.

“mm..yes my love? how are.. you?” you say, trying your best not to yawn in the middle of your sentence.

you can hear jake laughing at you through the other line. “princess, you’re still sleeping at this hour? i’m sorry for waking you up but.. it’s 4 pm already.” wait.. what?? 4 pm?? you were supposed to meet up 3 hours ago. how is it possible that you slept this long?

“don’t worry.. sunoo told me that he tried calling you since morning and you never answered, so i just let you sleep. instead of lunch.. could we go out to dinner now..?”

“ugh..fuck.. i’m sorry. i didn’t realise i slept that long.. is it okay in 3 hours..? i need to shower..” you reply as you’re massaging your head from the massive headache you got.

“of course love. i’ll come pick you up.. although.. does this mean i get no shower sneak peek??” he chuckles, and you just roll your eyes at his words.

“hold your horses now.. you might get to see me another time.” you smile.

there’s a few awkward seconds of silence, then he decides to hang up so you can get ready.

truth is.. you slept this long because of the hangover you’re having after a longgg night partying with your best friend sunoo. main reason why your headache is also present. —

you hop in the shower, actually debating to send jake a little picture or a video but.. you decide to be a bit of a tease. you just finish your shower and start getting ready.

you get dolled up all for him, putting on a nice laced dress and your favourite ysl lipgloss, that jake bought for you as a present not long ago. you get your phone and keys, locking your huge metal gate. your phone makes a few clicking sounds while you search for jake’s number to call him.

“baby, i’m right in front of my house. i’ll be waiting for you.”

“okay princess, i’m almost there. i can’t wait to see you”

you smile at your phone as you hang up, already seeing the blinding lights of his black suv, stopping right next to you. he gets out the car to check you out for atleast 5 minutes, offering you a kiss and then opening the car door like a true gentleman. you get in the car, the seats all warmed up. “good.” you say in your mind. it’s mildly snowing out, you needed this.

jake sits back in the driver’s seat, getting ready to leave. you turn to look at him while he’s focused on the road and you can’t help but admire him. you would lie if you said that he’s not the hottest man you’ve ever laid your eyes upon. with his slick back black hair, a nice black suit hugging his waist while also complementing his eyes.

your eyes suddenly slip to his arms, more specifically his hands. they’re resting on the top of the steering wheel, his fingers so long and pretty, multiple veins following from his forearm up to the back of his hand. that scenery alone made you squeeze your thighs together, knowing you couldn’t act on it here..

there is only one thing you thought about on that silent car ride, his long fingers inside you. you needed that more than anything. right now. instead, you try to look the other way, your body as stiff as a rock.

jake looks at you for a split second wondering why you’re moving around in your seat so much. he smiles, reaching out one hand to place on your inner left thigh. “what’s wrong love? are you uncomfortable?”

you thought you would let out a moan right there, right as he placed his hand on your inner thigh. you quickly shake your head left and right trying to diffuse the situation. you accidentally look downwards at your lap, and see that same hand, now grasping the soft skin of your thigh, one vein getting more prominent with each squeeze.

you continue through this hell for a few more minutes until you arrive, exhaling when he gets his hand off you.

. . . you get to your table, through the reservation that jake made previously. the place is pretty packed for a high end restaurant like this one. you’re both making small talk, asking how your day was and.. what plans you have for tonight.. he’s flipping through the menu and all you can stare at are those hands. you begin to breathe more rapidly, getting impatient.

“who cares about food right now? all i want are those fingers in my mouth” you think, trying not to slap yourself from the realisation of what you just almost said out loud.

still, you finish eating, he pays with his black card of course. even though you keep insisting that you want to pitch in. he loves spoiling you every time and all you can give him in return are kisses or.. something more.

after another few excruciating minutes in that car, you arrive back at your home. jake sits down on the couch, manspreading while you take your shoes off.

“thank you my love.. the dinner was amazing. what can i do to repay you?” he plasters on a confused look on his face, almost replying with “you don’t have to repay me” but.. seeing how beautiful you were for him.. how you looked and how you got ready all for him.. made him needy. in a blink of an eye. he knew he was lucky dating you, and the thought that you were all his made him so excited.

“hmm.. there might be something you can do for me princess. you think i’m stupid? i saw how you were drooling over my hands. you really love them huh?”

you get a bit embarrassed, but you’re way too horny to deny anything right now. “yeah.. i really do… i need them. please.” you say already biting your bottom lip.

you can see him slowly form a grin on his face, not saying a word. he pats his thigh two times, to show you the seat you’ll have for the rest of the night.

you eagerly walk up to him and take off your coat to take your seat on his lap. he pulls you into a kiss that turns into a make out session. he travels his hands down to your waist, and you move yours to hold onto his shoulders. you don’t pull away from his lips for a long time, the taste keeping you addicted.

he makes you pull away at one point, smiling at you. he takes his own coat off, having only a white satin shirt underneath. two buttons of the shirt are already undone, showing his chest real well.. with a nod from him as agreement, you begin unbuttoning his shirt, in a few seconds leaving him shirtless. you saw those abs and muscles countless times yet.. it still makes your body have a reaction you can’t explain.

he softly tugs on your dress while whining and pouting. you laugh at his pouty face, finding him so adorable yet so demanding. “go ahead”, quiet words leave your mouth while looking into his eyes.

he does not hesitate. he takes off that dress almost ripping it off out of excitement, leaving you in your underwear. he uses his middle and ring finger to open your mouth, shoving them in and wetting them with your saliva. you suck on his fingers a bit, getting to be a bit of a show-off.

he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, taking off your panties now. he immediately starts rubbing your clit first, flicking it a bit and getting it all wet.. then he moves down to your folds, moving his fingers back and forth. you grab onto one of his shoulders for support, digging your nails in it.

“l..love please.. put them in..”

he does exactly as he’s told. he shoves both fingers inside you, slowly pumping them in and out.. you’re rapidly losing your mind, this is everything you wished for. you grab onto his wrist with your other hand, trying to make him keep going but.. to no avail.

he stops, giving you a signal to ride his fingers instead. you get into position, trying your best to move your hips back and forth. you moaned feeling his fingers in you, not being able to resist anymore already. when he curls his fingers up inside you, he was almost convinced you were about to cum.

you ride his fingers as well as you can, trying to get on his good side. he’s not quite satisfied with your pace, so he gives you a slap over the mouth. “ride them faster princess, what’s up? tired already?” you’re fucked up as is, his words are making this WAY harder for you. the moans are getting more and more consistent, figuring that you’re going to cum soon.

“okay slut, slow down now. i don’t want you to get too tired. i’ll make you bounce on my cock just like this if you’re a good girl for me.” but… you don’t slow down. with how much energy you have left, you keep going. “ahh..i need to cum..first..plea..” he cuts you off, his tone getting more irritated.

“oh? you wanna cum? let me help you cum then whore.” he grabs onto your neck, choking you ever so slightly while fucking you with his fingers. he’s moving his hand as fast as he can trying to make you cum. you moan uncontrollably at this point, getting so close to your release and not being able to talk properly from the choking.

you do end up cumming all over his veiny fingers and pants. the grasp on your neck loosens, leaving a red mark around it.

“mmm.. since i stretched you out so well with my fingers.. how about we put that to good use?” he smiles, that smile being far away from innocent. you know exactly what he wants and you’re willing to give him that.

you catch up your breath, grabbing onto his shoulders again. “let me ride you then.” you reply, trying to be as nonchalant as you can.

you move your hands down to his pants, slowly slipping them off him. the bulge in his boxers is huge, obviously you already knew that but the thought didn’t comfort you. he’s usually hard to take in, now imagine being all fucked up and having to ride him. you let out a small scared sigh, while taking his boxers off too.

his cock springs up immediately and you lick your lips looking at it. you grab the base to stroke it a few times, before getting into position to ride him. you intertwine your fingers with his as you slowly go down on him. you almost feel like giving out when you take him all in but you need to make him feel good.

you slowly start riding him, his size almost being unbearable to take. he loves it though, he loves how you struggle to take him and how that small bulge appears in your stomach everytime you bounce up and down. he grabs and pulls on your hair just to make you speed up, teasing you with that hair pull each time he feels you slowed down.

you pick up your pace significantly, moving up and down, back and forth on him. your eyes roll back from the pleasure and it really feels like he’s splitting you into two. he stops holding hands to take your tits out of your bra just to fondle them a bit. he’s running his thumb all over your nipples, sending you shivers down your spine.

“such a good girl.” he remarks, coming from him this is a compliment. you smile at his words, motivating you to keep going. he’s very deep inside you right now, any sudden movement almost making you cum a second time..

you can hear him getting more vocal over time, he’s whimpering and cooing.. the usual tough guy that would control every movement of yours, is now getting so vocal.. you love it though, your favourite part of it might just be his moans.

you clench your teeth and force yourself to go as fast as you can, just to make him cum.

“fffuck…. princess hold.. on.. i’m close..” just music to your ears. you want to let this man fill you up right now. you push yourself even more to overstimulation just to make him cum.

he lets out a whimpery moan getting so close already.

“cum.. inside me.. please my love..”

those are the last words you can say before he cums all in you. he’s filling you up to the brim and you can do is smile, feeling his cum leaking out of you. you give him a sweet kiss on the lips then on the nose.

“fucking hell… maybe we should go out to dinner more often hm?”

you laugh, running your fingers through his hair. “you’re so cute.. now, wanna join me in the shower? no games this time.”

“waittt.. so this is why you didn’t send anything from your shower today.. let’s go for another round baby. what do you think?” he says, hugging your waist.

“hmmm.. maybeee. if you use those hands of yours again.”

“well, you know you’re in safe hands with me.”

[runningfrom2am]

Hi, how’s your day been going? Hoping it was amazing. I just saw your post about needing inspo for Coriolanus fics! I’m not sure if you are taking requests but if you are Could you maybe do a touch-starved Coryo fic? Something fluffy/angsty where Coryo can finally fulfill those needs and be himself and vulnerable with the reader. Thanks!

as long as you need me - c.s

pairing: coryo x fem!reader

wc: 1.7k

tags/warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, he just needs you and you just want to help.

requests (currently closed- feel free to send whatever but it will be a while before I get to them!)

nav / coriolanus snow masterlist

a/n: ahhh thank you for sending this in! it was so fun to write like stopppp i just want to give him a hug omg. also thought i'd post this to hold y'all off until i post the next part of LTPF. anyway, enjoy!

You had a very stable grasp of the limits of your relationship. What was appropriate, and what was not. You were quite shy, and Coryo always carried himself with a high level of decorum. You would eat together at lunch, and he would walk you home most days. The weekends, your study dates, were always your favourite. He was significantly more relaxed, but you could still tell he was just a little tightly wound. By now, you've just learned that's who he is. Not overly affectionate, but he cares for you and you care for him. 

"I can't stay late today, I'm sorry." You said, genuinely feeling bad for having to turn down the request. In your junior year, you started tutoring for younger grades at the academy and it is something you thoroughly enjoyed.

"I have a test tomorrow! Why can't you stay? Just for a few minutes- I just have a couple of questions." The first year, Aelia whined.

"My boyfriend is supposed to walk me home and he has a tight schedule, but I'll tell you what, I can meet you in the library in the morning before class. That way it will still be fresh in your mind, yeah?" You grinned, and she seemed satisfied as you agreed on a time, not knowing that a few of the girls in your grade were listening in.

"Y/N," Clemensia decided to approach you as Aelia walked off, Arachne and Livia following close behind. "Did I catch you telling someone that you have a boyfriend? Did I hear that right?"

"Oh, well, yes." You answered sheepishly, gathering your things to put in your bag before your next class.

"Really?" Livia chimed in, and you just nodded. "Okay, well, spill. Who is it? Do I know him?"

"Um..." You looked around, deciding what to say. You weren't necessarily keeping it a secret, but you just hadn't felt the need to tell anyone you went to school with. "It's Coriolanus. Snow." You cleared your throat, unsure why you even added his last name. It's not like the name Coriolanus was abundantly common.

"Shut up." Clemensia laughed slightly, eyes widening at you. "You're joking, right?"

"No... We've been together for almost seven months now."

"I just... wow. We had no idea. Seven months! I feel like I've never seen the two of you get closer than two feet apart." You weren't sure whether to interpret this response as teasing or genuine shock- so you just gave them an awkward smile and a small nod before walking away.

At the time, you had never considered how your lack of affection in public could be confusing to people- not that it mattered. Rumors had spread quickly after that, which was to be expected when Livia and Arachne were involved. However, PDA just wasn't your thing. General displays of affection weren't really your thing, either. Both of you always had a lot going on, and having been together for almost a year by now, you knew that you loved him and he loved you. You didn't have to prove it to each other or to anyone, there was no pressure for anything to change. On your end, anyway.

Coryo, on the other hand, was feeling something shift. Leading up to the reaping and more importantly, to the prize. You both were in the running, being in the top twenty-four of your class, and you had no doubt that Coryo was a shoo-in, but you didn't know how extremely anxious it was making him. The now constant thrumming of his heartbeat in his chest and his shaky hands were always less around you, and he can only dream of how much better it would be if he could just hold you.

These days, he'd wake up expecting you in his arms due to a particularly calming dream only to be disappointed. He respected you a great amount and wouldn't want to push your boundaries, however unspoken. Still, he wasn't sure how much longer he could go about his day-to-day without testing his theory that holding you could cure his fears, or at least let him forget about them for only a moment. He would happily take just a second of peace.

Coriolanus usually greeted you outside of your unshared classes, seeing that you tended to stay a few minutes late to ask questions or polish off your notes. He couldn't wait to see you, he needed to.

"Coryo." You smile, walking out of your lecture hall to see him waiting.

"Hi, Love. How was class?" Your boyfriend greets you, joining you on your walk towards the exit of the school.

"It was good. Though, I find the topic of the rebellion kind of redundant at this point." You say, books tucked against your chest under folded arms. "Is it not too soon to discuss it in a history class? I mean, I literally remember what it was like to live in a bomb shelter."

Your joke seemingly lands on deaf ears as he just hums, placing a hand on your lower back to guide you out of the building. This wasn't totally unusual, but with the way he was pushing you, albeit gently, was telling you that something was wrong.

"Is everything okay?" You ask him, looking up at the boy next to you as you reach the bottom of the academy's front steps.

"Fine." Coryo nods, attempting a reassuring smile that he isn't aware falls short.

"Okay, well... If you want to talk about anything, I'm here for you, you know. Always."

"I know. Thank you, Love." He drops his hand from your back to hold your free one, turning in the direction of your apartment.

The next afternoon, you're in the same class, one of the rare ones you don't share with Coryo, taking down notes from the lecture when there's a knock on the door, followed by it creaking open. You pay no mind, taking the opportunity to catch up on everything written on the board.

"May I borrow Y/N, please?" Your boyfriend's voice is scratchy and shakey in a way unfamiliar sounding to you, making your head snap up. You'd never seen him cry before. "Only for a moment."

Your teacher dismisses you, likely on account of your and Coriolanus's mutually spotless records and his red-rimmed eyes. Clearly, you were needed urgently. You leave your bag and your books, ignoring the whistles and heckling of some of your classmates as you rush to the door.

Coryo had reached his breaking point. He was writing his third paper of the week, unable to focus on that and get his mind off of how unlikely it was he would get the prize if the Dean had any say. Sitting in the library, the world had started turning around him. People were talking, laughing, even, and he couldn't take it anymore. The floodgates opened and he had rushed out of the room. He couldn't go home, his attendance would be affected and he'd be throwing away the prize most definitely. He had nowhere to go, except for to you.

You close the door behind yourself, thankful that the hallway is completely deserted during class time. "Hey, what's going on?" You ask, and before you can get a good look at him he's pulling you into a crushing hug, shaking around you.

You're shocked for a moment, pulling yourself out of your head to hug him back. Whatever is bothering him must be bad. He'd hugged you before, but never like this. "Hey, it's okay..." You whisper, rubbing his back. "Let's go outside for a second, yeah? Get some air?" You offer, gently prying yourself from his grasp to look at him.

Coryo can't speak, overtaken completely by the tears flowing down his cheeks and the anxiety flooding every inch of his body. He feels like he could be sick, all he knew that he needed was you. He just nods, trying to regain his composure, if only for the couple of minutes it takes to get outside.

"Okay. Let's go." You smile, trying not to show how worried you are as you wrap an arm around his back, still holding him close to you as if he has a broken ankle and you have to carry him. So far, his theory was proving to be correct. Just having you at his side was calming to him, and mentally he's cursing himself for not voicing his fears to you before they broke him.

As soon as the door of the rarely used back exit to the school is closed, he's essentially collapsing onto the ground, tucking his knees up to his chest and crying into his hands. You're quick to join him, draping an arm over his back and trying to grab one of his hands to hold. Your brow is knit with worry, rubbing his shoulder as he allows you to take one of his shaking hands. "Coryo..." You say softly, trying to get him to look at you but he won't. "What's happening? Talk to me, you can trust me. I just want to help."

He sniffles, looking up at you. "What is it?" You ask again, hoping to prompt any kind of information out of him. When he doesn't answer, you curve your approach to yes or no questions, hopefully, to make it easier on him. "Is someone hurt? Is it Grandma'am? Did something happen?"

He shakes his head slightly with every question, once again avoiding your eyes as he looks down at the ground, occasionally trying to cough out the knot in his throat.

"...Do you want to talk? Or do you just need a hug?" You realize, leaning in so he would look at you again.

He pulls you closer, wrapping both his arms around you awkwardly due to the way you are both sitting. "Just need you here." He mumbles, hardly audible as he buries his face in your shoulder and neck.

Relieved to hear his voice again, you place a hand on his hair and on his back, holding him tight. "I'm here, Coryo. As long as you need me."

taglist: @keziahcore, @soulessjourney, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @fals3-g0d, @gloryekaterina, @andrewgarfieldsbitch, @queenofspades6, @pepperonipastas, @ladybug0095, @lunamothwrites, @sbrewer21, @mus-tbe-a-weasley, @splxtscreen, @unclecrunkle, @karmaswitch, @rororo06, @coconut-dreamz, @nekee-lilac02, @ooooglymoooogly, @slytherinholland, @riddlerloveb0t, @lovedbalances, @notyourwildestdream, @snowlandson-top, @too-lit-for-fanfic, @utopiakys, @deafeningballoonnacho, @darlingisntit, @roosterschanelslut, @chmpgneprblem, @cosmoetik, @lauravanderbooben20, @dry0campa, @luclue, @lokidala, @urvampgfsworld, @carolanns-world, 

[melminli]

Vanilla Pudding II

pairing: young coriolanus snow x fem. reader

summery - of course, coriolanus had his principles. but before he had them, he had you. he didn't want to lose that no matter what. you were his only exception in this game, and you would remain to be that.

word count: 1.3k

contains: district reader living in the capitol, fluff, slightly dark themes, coryo being a simp, flashbacks, fluff, possessiv behavior

a/n: well, i didn't really expect this to turn kinda darkish since the first chapter was so wholesome... but here we are. part 2 to blueberry tartlet!

part I

Not everything was easier back then, but most things were. As a child, he didn't have to worry about his family's reputation. He hardly cared about his own since he was more concerned about what he had for dessert after dinner. Coriolanus was fine with just about anything most of the time, except for this pastrie with jam his grandmother used to make. He hated the taste of that. Well, he ate it anyway, but he would have been happier if it had been bread pudding instead. Coriolanus loved that shit.

He remembered once when he was a little kid and played alone on one of the swings at the playground outside. He thought of kindergarten as okay because he didn't like most of the kids there, and that still hadn't changed today. Most of them grew up to be idiots just as expected.

"Ya wanna have some puddin'?" You asked him, and this was the first real encounter he had with you. Back then, you still had your district accent, which Coriolanus had found very strange, but for whatever reason, you were still quite popular among the others. They liked you a lot.

He thought you were weird. "Is it bread pudding?"

You didn't seem to know for sure yourself as you looked into the container and thought for a few seconds. "No, just normal vanilla puddin'...sorry." you said in a whisper. "Ya can still have it if ya want? The other like chocolate puddin' more..."

Coriolanus watched your figure for a few seconds, and you didn't really dare to meet his starting gaze at first, so you looked to the side, slightly embarrassed. "I don't want it, but I'll take it." He finally said and held out his hand. It was better than nothing.

His answer brought a smile to your face. "My ma made it, I'm sure ya gonna like it!" You replied and happily placed it in his hand.

He didn't have a spoon. How am I supposed to eat this? He looked at his hands and considered it for a few seconds before shaking his head. No, I can't do that. "Why don't you eat it?" He asked you, suddenly noticing out of the corner of his eye how your braided hair was held in place by a bow. He thought it looked kind of cute on you. It suited you.

"I also like chocolate more." You admitted a little shyly and then realized yourself that he didn't have the necessary cutlery to eat the dessert. "Oh, I don't have a spoon with me. We can ask someone in the cafeteria, I'm sure they'll help us out!" Your voice exclaimed as you grabbed his hand and pulled him along without a care in the world.

He wished he could still see you with the same eyes he did back then. When it didn't matter who was called what, what clothes you wore, or just the fact that you could say what you thought without worrying about how it might sound.

But you weren't kids anymore. He was no longer clueless and all that stuff was important now. The only thing that hadn't changed from back then was that you were still a District girl, and that was one thing you would remain forever, no matter how long you lived in the Capitol.

"Are you okay, Coriolanus?" Rang your sweet voice suddenly in his ears, leaving him stirring only to be greeted with your figure in front of his table. Your eyes looked down at him with concern, and he only now realized that class was over. Most of the students had even left the classroom already. It seemed like he had been caught up in his thoughts for quite a while. "...yes, everything is fine. Don't worry about it, it's nothing." He said and packed up his bag.

You weren't entirely convinced but decided to let it go. Maybe he just hadn't slept well. He seemed to walk around with dark circles under his eyes a lot. "Oh, okay." You just said. You've been making a bit more of an effort to get in touch with your childhood friend lately. You didn't really know why, but somehow, along the way, you just seemed to stop being friends. It was only the other day at the graduation party of your elders that you realized how much you had actually missed him.

"So, I heard you're taking part in this year's Hunger Games." You broached the subject and saw him raise an eyebrow. You suddenly noticed how that may have sounded. "As a mentor, of course! Yeah, sorry if the way I just put it sounded a bit weird..." You apologized to him and mentally smacked yourself on the head.

He shook his hand. It was cute how nervous you suddenly acted around him. He liked that, liked that it was him who made you feel that way. "It's okay. As I said, don't worry about it." He replied and walked down the stairs with you after he was finished with his bag. "I'm afraid I couldn't find your name on the list. It's a real shame that you have to miss out on such a great opportunity."

You disagreed. "Well, I'm actually a bit relieved about that, if I'm being honest." You admitted, looking a little worried at the thought that you could have been in his place. "Yeah, I'm not really a big fan of the games. I hate to admit it, but I'm kind of sensitive to this type of stuff. Like, just seeing blood freaks me out, so I can't really..."

Coriolanus watched you struggle a bit trying to skate around the actual goal of the games. You didn't even seem to be able to say the word kill or dead. He'd bet you'd be the first to fall if you were a tribute. His eyebrows furrowed slightly at the thought. It's better that she isn't. She's not like those other animals. "Don't be absurd. It's completely valid that you feel that way, trust me." He assured you, bringing a slight smile back to your lips.

He stopped you briefly so he could hold your hand comfortingly. "We don't even have to talk about the games if you don't want to. How about this, I know this good ice cream place near the academy." He suggested charmingly. "Do you still like chocolate? I've heard that's their specialty."

You couldn't stop the broad smile that spread across your face at his words. "It still is, actually. let's go! My treat!" You said and pulled him along by his hand without a care in the world, and like then, he just let you do it.

"No way, I'll pay and there's nothing you can do about it."

You shook your head stubbornly. "I don't want you to do that, and you can't stop me."

He had decided then and there that he wasn't going to let himself get in the way of the only good thing that had ever happened to him in his usually so miserable life. And what if you were a District girl? Even if he could never change that, it would make no difference in the future.

After all, no one would dare question the decisions of the President of Panem - especially when it came to choosing his first lady. Coriolanus was sure that something could easily be arranged with those who still couldn't hold their tongues.

Before you could take another step, Coriolanus suddenly stopped behind you and almost let you fall to the ground had he not caught you. "And that's where you're wrong." He said, smiling as sweetly as a poisoned apple. "Because I can."

[bearambles]

sober (haymitch a.)

words: 3.9k

warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, p in v, oral (f + m receiving) , teasing (?), too much plot 😭

notes: this is so late! i am so sorry to whoever requested, i got super busy and couldn’t post it the day i planned. also, this is my first ever smut! so i am sorry if this is terrible, i’ll get better over time. enjoy!

_

The party lasted hours. Your feet hurt, your stomach is churning, and your head pounds. You've never wanted your district bed more than now. This place reeks of wealth and lies.

Unfortunately, skipping these monthly events would anger Snow. He already dislikes you and your district, so you have to do whatever it takes to please him. If that means enduring long nights of drinking and throwing up, so be it. It's better than death, you suppose.

There's only one other District 12 victor here with you, and he disappeared halfway through the night. Haymitch, despite being a good friend and your former mentor, is possibly the worst person to rely on in these social situations. He's been sitting at the bar for who knows how long, drinking who knows how much. It's only when the host literally announces it's time to leave that you find him, slumped over the counter on a stool.

"Haymitch? Come on, we have to go," you urge, shaking his shoulders.

"What? No, let me stay. I'm sleeping," he mumbles.

"You're not sleeping. You're fine. Here, I have one of those drinks that make you throw up. It'll sober you up enough to say goodbyes," you say, handing him the glass. He pushes it back towards you without even looking up.

"I don't want that Capitol shit."

"This Capitol shit will help you a lot right now. Haymitch, get up!" You push his head to the side so you can see his face. He opens his eyes to look at you.

He's only in his late twenties, but his eyes seem older. He looks as rough as he acts. His hair is too long, and his beard is starting to come in slightly, despite him saying he'd groom himself for this occasion. Still, he looks handsome. Not that it matters; his current state reflects his antisocial night.

"Please. I'm trying to keep us out of trouble. You've been alone all night. At least come say goodbye to people with me. Then we can go home, okay?"

If harshness isn’t working, you'll try being soft with him. Sometimes, just sometimes, it works. It seems to today.

He sighs and sits up, steadying himself with his palms flat on the counter. He reaches for the purple liquid and swallows it like a shot, squeezing his eyes shut and grimacing.

"Okay, I'll be back then," he says, going off to throw up.

You nod and take a seat on the stool next to where he was sitting, waiting. You can't help but feel guilty. You should have stayed with him longer that night before he went off on his own. You knew he'd go drinking, but you didn’t know it would get this bad.

Since you've known Haymitch, he's had a bit of a drinking problem. Mostly under control when he mentored you—never more than tipsy. But in recent years, as more of his tributes lost the Games, it's gotten worse. It's weighing on him, you can tell. You want to help so badly.

"Okay, let's go," he says, returning a few minutes later, running his fingers through his hair. He's clearly sobered up a bit, maybe even washed his face. His breath smells of mint.

The host and his wife are among about a dozen people remaining by the time you leave the bar and walk to the main room together. Nonetheless, you both put on a show, shaking hands and smiling, thanking them endlessly. You never know who's watching, present or otherwise.

As you make your rounds to the last few victors, Haymitch latches his arm closely with yours. The move surprises you; you realize he hasn't been this physical in a while. It seems to come with sobriety or maybe just part of the Capitol's show. Together, you almost look like a couple. It's odd.

When you leave through the doors, he doesn't let go of your arm. It's a cold night, and you shiver, but the warmth of his body next to yours feels weirdly nice.

"Thank you," you say, looking up at him on the train ride home.

"For what?" he asks, furrowing his brows.

"For taking the glass. I know you hate that stuff, but—"

"But I need to get sober," he says, looking away from you into the distance.

"I didn't say that, but it's nice when you are. I mean, it's helpful with the image when you aren't stumbling around—"

He detaches his arm from yours.

"So I shouldn't drink because the President said so?"

"He didn't say so, Haymitch. I'm saying so. You shouldn't drink because I say so."

"And why's that?"

"Because I like you better like this."

He goes quiet, then looks down at his feet, his hair falling in his eyes.

"Yeah, well, it's harder than it looks, sweetheart."

"I know that. I'm sorry," you say softly.

The rest of the ride is quiet. It's just the two of you on the train, and any sound you make seems to echo for ages. Neither of you wants to speak; too much is unsaid.

You care about him; you know that. You just aren't sure how. Though it seems increasingly clear to you in moments like this when all you want to do is tuck his hair behind his ear and kiss him softly. You have no idea how he'd feel about that, though. You have no idea how he feels most of the time.

In fact, just then, it's the first time he's seemed to feel bad about his drinking. And it doesn't seem like he cares about his health or the Capitol's opinion on his image. It seems like he feels bad for disappointing you.

When the train stops, you both get out, him first, then you. He offers his hand as you step down, and you take it with a slight smile. His hands are cold, as is the night.

Your houses are directly next to each other in Victor's Village, making the walk there excruciatingly awkward. You can't tell what he's thinking, or if he's thinking at all. Finally, after what feels like an hour, he speaks.

"That stuff is really nasty, you know that?" he says.

You look up at him. "The purging stuff?"

"No, the desserts they were serving," he says, rolling his eyes and bumping his shoulder against yours. "Yeah, the purging stuff."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. You're right. What you said and stuff. That's all right. You're right."

You smile and look up at him. He looks back at you and smiles softly, then looks away. He clearly hates to admit it.

"Don't be cocky about it, though. And don't expect me to stop. It's not that easy."

"I don't. I just like you like this."

"Yeah, you mentioned that. What do you mean?"

You've reached your house, and he stops in front of your door, feet planted. He looks down at you with a questioning gaze, and his blue eyes seem to dart across your face. Your cheeks flush. You have no idea what to respond.

"You know, just... sober," you say, looking away.

"No, I know, but the 'like' part. What do you mean? Because you got all shy when you said it," he says, swaying a bit where he stands, impatiently waiting for a response.

"I don't know," you say quietly.

"You don't know?"

"No. I think we should go to sleep. You should go to sleep. No more drinks. At least wait until tomorrow."

You try to push past him to your door, but he takes both hands out of his pockets and gently shoves your shoulders back. Not hard, but enough to make you stumble. He gazes down at you and steps forward, closing the space between you.

"Whoa, you're so eager all of a sudden. Look at me," he says, tilting your head up with a hand under your chin. "Why are you so embarrassed?"

"I'm not."

"Yeah, you are. You like me?"

"Haymitch, stop. You're—" You stop, tears pricking at your eyes. He's teasing you, you're sure of it. The last thing you want is for him to figure out your feelings. Not after he's been your mentor, not after he's seen you at your worst, after he's been your friend (?) for this long. It doesn't make sense. You know that. And he knows that, most definitely. That's why you're sure he doesn't feel that way towards you. He can't.

"You're crying. I thought you were all tough?" he says.

He's right. You were tough. Crying makes you weak. You hate talking like this. So honestly.

"Stop it," you jerk away from his hand, which had crept up to your cheek. "Go to bed."

But you don't take a step forward, don't shove past him again. You just stand there, your breath heavy, looking away. He gazes at you like he's seeing you for the first time, his eyes darting from your eyes to your mouth to your body.

"I don't want to. I want to talk to you," he finally says.

"About what?" you say, still looking away.

"Us," he says softly.

"What about us?"

He takes a step forward.

"Come on, sweetheart. You're so good to me. Take care of me. Trust in me. Give me hope."

Your breathing speeds up as you feel his hand stoke your arm gently up and down as he speaks. You’d always been cautious of his words, so used to his drunken thoughts being untrustworthy and sometimes cruel. But this feels honest. Real.

“I know you feel something.” he says as you lift your head to look back at him. “You might not know what. I don’t know either. But c’mon.” 

He starts to lean closer and your eyes drift closed. Before you can even register, his lips are on yours, and you’re kissing back. Your hands hold his elbows and his hold your face. 

His mouth tastes of the mouthwash from the capitol washrooms. He’s so slow with you, like he’s trying not to scare you. You aren’t sure if he possibly could. 

Suddenly you pull away. 

“What’s wrong?” Haymitch asks, his eyes wide.

“We should go inside.” 

“Oh. Yeah.” He registers quickly what you mean. 

All along the village are cameras for the capitol to see what goes on. Although it’s unlikely you’d get in much trouble for a kiss, you never knew what would land you a meeting with snow. Or just become the talk of the next victor event. 

You push past him and unlock your door quickly, before turning back to him, motioning for him to come inside. By the time you close the door, he’s kissing you again, this time the careful act gone. He catches your lips and kisses you like his life depended on it. It’s messy and wet and you’re so turned on it’s insane. 

His hands both reach down to hold yours, and he pushes them up against the door. The motion catches you by surprise and you moan softly into his mouth. He hears you and holds down tighter on your wrists, just enough to feel but not to hurt. 

His knee starts to spread your legs apart slowly as he kisses down your neck, and you let his name slip from your mouth.

“Haymitch~”

He stops to look at you.

“Yeah? You like this?” He sounds like he’s genuinely asking. Like he needs to know. 

You nod, your brain already fuzzy. 

“Okay. Okay.” He sounds out of breath but resumes 

his task, getting down to your collarbone. 

Hes rough with his kisses when he’s below where any marks would be seen. As he unbuttons your shirt, he looks at you, smiling like an idiot. It hits you then that he seems to have wanted this as badly as you all along. He leans in to leave a soft kiss on your lips before pulling your sleeves off your arms and throwing your top to the floor. 

“Jesus…” He mutters as he looks down at your tits. 

You reach behind you to unhook your bra, and let it all forward and land next to your shirt. 

“Holy fuck.” 

You laugh quietly at his words. He looks up at you in awe and with a look of asking as he creeps his hands from your waist up to your chest. You nod and let out a sharp breath when his cold hands hold your tits and knead them slowly. 

You wonder then if he’d ever done this with a woman before. He was younger than you when he won, so probably not before the games. And after…he’d never really seemed the type. But then again, he was attractive and still young, so you couldn’t be sure. 

Besides him, you’d only been with one or two boys from district before you were reaped. They were, however, nothing like this. 

He takes one nipple between his thumb and pointer, pinching slightly. Between the pressure and his cold hands, you let out a noise of surprise and pleasure. 

“Does that hurt?” He asks

“No, just…it’s a lot.” You say through deep breaths. “K-keep going.”

He smiles and does the same with the other, and your hips jut forward slightly in reaction. He doesn’t notice, which you’re grateful for. You’re so eager it’s embarrassing. Every touch makes your stomach flip and your underwear wetter. 

Slowly he starts to kiss down from your collarbones to your chest and takes a breast in his mouth. He looks up at you as he sucks softly, his tongue swirling your nipple. His big eyes looking into yours makes you feel like you could cum then and there. you let out a moan instead. 

He plays with your breasts for a while longer before they’re nice and covered in both his spit and dark, red marks. He knew what he was doing, putting them where nobody could see. you thought of changing in front of a mirror days to come, just looking at them. Knowing it was from him. sober. He wants this. 

He gets to his knees before you can stop him, and begins to pull down your skirt. 

You’re left in your underwear, your slick having left a clear spot in the front. You turn your head in embarrassment as he touches up your thighs and leaves open mouth kisses. 

“All this from that, huh?” he asks, laughing softly 

“Shut up.” you mutter into your hand. 

“You want me to stop?” he asks, his fingers hooked under the sides of your panties. 

“N-no.”

“What was that sweetheart? C’mon, look at me.”

“Don’t stop.” you say, clearer now, making eye contact as he kneels in front of your pussy. You couldn’t be more vulnerable, and yet, you trust him with every inch of your being. 

He looks back at your core for a moment before licking a stripe up the thin fabric. You curse quietly and he pulls them down, the air hitting your heat before his tongue does. But when it does…

He laps at you like he’d wanted to for years, which you’re now sure that he has. The urgency makes your legs buckle and he uses both hands against your knees to hold them open. He switches between your folds and your clit, paying attention to both. Every so often he stops and just admires. 

At some point haymitch sucks at your clit, and your hands fly to his hair, pulling slightly. 

He lets out a groan of surprise against your core.

“Sorry, sorry…” you mutter, loosening your grip. 

“No, keep going, I like it.” he says, stopping to look up at you, his eyes nearly glazed over in bliss. 

You resume your hold on his head and tug as he continues. Between his lips and his tongue, you’re  overwhelmed. before you know it, you feel the coil in your stomach tighten. 

“Stop…stop…” you manage in between moans. 

He gives you one last kiss to your clit before standing up, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“You okay?” 

“Just don’t wanna finish yet.” you say without thinking, before getting flushed. Even after all that, you couldn’t believe you were speaking to him like this. Haymitch. 

He smiles lazily and goes in to kiss you again, and you can taste yourself on his tongue. It should repulse you, but instead, it turns you on more. He's so happy right now, and it’s so hot. 

“Do you wanna go to my bed?” you ask him when you get a breath, his forehead resting against yours. 

He picks you up and carries you. 

Haymitch knows your house as well as his from all the press training, meetings, and late night conversations you’ve had there. He practically lives with you at this point (Besides the sleeping over part. Usually. Unless he’d passed out.) 

He drops you on your mattress and pulls off his own shirt in one motion. Your breath is caught in your throat. 

You knew he was in shape, at least he was when he had mentored you all those years ago. But even now, behind the big shirts he wears and raggedy jackets, soft abs trace his stomach. His arms as big as your thighs. No wonder the pressure on your neck felt so nice. 

He sees you staring and smiles, leaning down to tuck your hair behind your ear. 

“You gonna say anything, pretty girl?” 

You try, but you find no words. Instead, you kiss him, and slowly trail your hands down his chest. you can feel raised scars and for a moment, remember what he’s been through. What you both have been through. 

You reach his belt and whisper into his mouth, 

“Can i?”

He nods against your forehead and you start to undo it, throwing it to the side. You pull his pants down with urgency and run your palm against his boxers. 

He lets out a noise you’ve never heard him make before, a mix between a whimper and a moan. You smile and start to palm him faster, before taking him out of his underwear and looking between you at his length. 

He’s bigger than you expect, and definitely bigger than the boys you’ve been with before. A solid seven inches and thick. Your eyes can’t look away and your breath rises and falls. 

He takes your hand softly into his and guides it to his length. He looks up at you as he does, searching for any hesitation in your eyes. Instead, you look up at him before flipping you both over quickly, so you sit on his thighs. 

He’s strong, but so are you, and he doesn’t resist as you take charge over him. He does, however, look a bit surprised, and reaches to hold your hand again. You take it and kiss it, which he smiles at. Then, you lean down, and let a glob of spit dribble from your mouth to his cock. 

“Jesus christ…” he mutters, as you use your free hand to pump up and down. “When did you…fuck…feels so good sweetheart”

You smile and take him in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down quickly. His other hand still holding yours, he grips at your hair (much gentler than you did his) and makes a make-shift ponytail so he can see your pretty face. 

Despite the view, his eyes flutter shut in pleasure, and your pace quickens. You feel him pulse inside your mouth and you’re sure he’s about to cum. 

You take him as deep as you can before pulling off, leaving his cock hard as a rock and covered in your saliva. You admire your work for a moment before he reaches forward and pulls you on top of him by your hips so you’re right against his chest. 

“C’mere” he moans, fucked out, before taking his cock in his own hand and looking over your shoulder to position himself in front of your entrance. 

“You want this?” he asks, taking your cheek in his free hand and stroking his thumb against it. 

“Please.” you whisper. 

Slowly, he inserts himself into you, catching your moans in his mouth as he kisses you slowly. He stretches you out so well, and your slick helps him move without much pain. Still, you bite down on his lip at the feeling of being full once he’s in. You let out a whimper. 

“I know baby, I know. Shhhh. Tell me when to move, okay?” he looks into your eyes. 

For a moment you just kiss him, his mouth so warm on yours and his cock so warm inside you. You could die like this. 

Then, you pull away, and lift your hips, before slowly moving back down. 

“Fuck…” he moans, before catching into the pace you set and moving you up and down on his cock. “So perfect for me, yeah? You feel that?” 

You nod dumbly at his words. He could say anything to you at this moment, and you’d agree. He feels so good. So right. 

“You wanted this huh? Is that why you want me sober? To fuck me?” he asks, and you shake your head as you bounce on his dick. 

“Hm, but that’s part of it, yeah?” he insists, “You like this. Me. C’mon sweetheart, you’re needy. That's okay, I'm givin’ it to you. I'm here.” 

You fall against him and place your head on his shoulder as he fucks into you like you’re a doll. He knows just what to say to get you so embarrassed and so wet. The words only add to your pleasure and you can feel yourself getting close. 

“Haymitch…” you moan against his shoulder. 

“M’ close pretty thing.” 

He takes one of the arms holding your hips and moves to your clit, rubbing quickly. The feeling sends you over the edge. 

“Fuck, haymitch, i’m cumming~” you mutter, raising your head to look at him as you fletch down and your orgasm washes over you. 

As you come down from your high, he speeds up rutting into you, and you put each hand on one of his shoulders for support. His eyes are closed and his mouth slightly open as he mind your name over and over like a prayer. 

He lifts you off of his cock and back onto his thighs before cumming all over your belly. You reach a hand down to stroke him as he does, but he catches your wrist. He’s sensitive, you can tell, and you laugh softly. 

“Sorry pretty girl. Made a mess.” he says, looking in between the two of you. Between his cum and yours, there’s not a part of either of you that isn’t slick. He takes a finger and swipes a bit of his own before putting it in front of your mouth. Grinning, you take it in your mouth and suck, tasting him.

“Jesus.” he says softly, as you lay down next to him, your face buried into his neck. 

You lay there like that for a moment, breathing. His hair sticks to his face in certain places, and his cheeks are rosy. The reality of what had happened hits you.

“You know, this isn’t the only reason you should drink less-“ You begin, propping your head up on your hand. 

He sighs. 

“I know. I’m too happy right now for lectures though, alright?” 

You consider for a moment before deciding that’s fair. Laying back down, you cuddle into his side.

“You admit this is part of why though, huh?” he says after a few moments, and you can hear the smugness in his voice.

“Was it worth it?” you ask

There’s a pause.

“I’d do anything for you.” he answers.

And for now?

That’s all you need. 

-

tysm for reading! like + reblog if you enjoyed :)

[little-sleepy-owl]

𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫,

who is a virgin and wants him to be their first. gender neutral, not so much explicit, but still smutty, as usual. Alastor is his own warning. kinda.

this one took me a while for several reasons. mostly because life is a bitch, but also because it was a really hard piece to write. I'm asexual myself and this is heavily self-indulgent. I wanted to maintain this treat of his, but still explore the sexual aspect of the relationship and the way asexual people might participate in it. so... yeah. proceed with understanding of this.

oh? so, you're just like him.

the only one who is not surprised whatsoever. isn't it supposed to be that way?

though there are a lot of vulgar people around. he might even praise you for keeping your chastity for so long.

but… becoming your first?

“Truly, my dear? That's quite the favor to ask a gentleman!”

it's less about being repulsed by the idea of intimacy (it doesn't sound bad if it's with you) and more about not wanting to step into a completely uncharted territory.

that's a first for him too, after all.

give him time. he needs to research some things before he's ready to try.

a week or two later he suddenly appears out of the shadows in your room with loud static noises, scaring the shit out of you, and announces that he would be very pleased to take the offer!!

hooray..? (please come out from under the bed, darling.)

now, just like Husk, he is an old-fashioned man. for him, this could only happen after a nice date.

he prefers a simple stroll around the city arm in arm, and having some coffee with you.

you can sense that he's a tad nervous, but also deeply thrilled. his posture is a little stiff while walking, ears, usually unmoving, twitch slightly here and there. it's cute.

you also notice he's more physically intimate with you today than usual. sitting a bit closer to you and leaning in subtly, so you can feel his warmth. gently covering your hand with his own. reaching to fix your hair, touch feather-like and making your heart pound in your chest.

none of it is sexual in any way, but the difference in his demeanor doesn't let you forget your plans for the night even for a moment.

judging by the sly curve of his smile and very attentive gaze, this is one hundred percent intentional.

inclined to take you into his own room after the date. if you're not against the living forest in the background.

(I suggest you accept the offer. fireflies would be a very romantic addition to your night.)

he needs to talk things out first.

“Let's discuss some rules of our… little arrangement.”

the rules are quite simple, although you might find them odd.

he will not take all his clothes off. especially not the lower part. pants stay on no matter what.

his hands, his mouth? all for your pleasure, darling. no limitations here.

and maybe, if you behave yourself and ask nicely… his shadows, too, can participate.

he merrily refuses to elaborate on what “behaving” means for him exactly. it's simply more fun that way, isn't it?

jacket tossed inside, sleeves rolled up. honestly speaking, it already feels too revealing. you don't think you ever saw so much of his arms or his neck before.

he is in a white shirt today, clean and pure, like the snow on the mountaintop. pristine even.

you never saw this, either.

he follows your gaze and his smile turns a little unsettling. you shiver, suddenly feeling like you are the one who's exposed here, even though you haven't taken off anything yet.

“No blood to stain it today, my dear,” he coos, adjusting the shirt slightly. oh, so usually he wears red for–

you don't want to continue this thought right now.

he's very insistent on undressing you by himself.

he uncovers you like you're his birthday cake in a cute present box. slowly removing every ribbon, carefully taking off the wrapping, anticipating what's underneath.

his hands are cold, but his eyes are heated, even somewhat hungry. and so, so intent.

he drinks on your every shiver, on the way your lips parts ever so slightly to let out a small gasp, on the goosebumps that run on your skin, when he leans in to nibble on your pretty neck, right beside the quicked throbbing of your pulse.

he hums an old tune, seemingly lost in exploration of your body and the way you respond to his touch.

he's eager to learn and very observant. he changes the pace the moment he notices you feeling uncomfortable. he discovers what makes you respond well and uses the knowledge without any shame.

but he also does very much love you telling him what you want him to do with that cute trembling voice of yours.

that's what eventually earns you the shadows taking part in the whole fun. if this is something you desire.

if you weren't satisfied before, you most certainly are now.

expect him to restrain you. he likes to see you squirming under his touch, unable to set the pace. he does everything deliberately slow, so you would beg him to give you more and do it faster.

he's very controlling in general, and although he takes into account what you want, he will also act on his own whim.

it honestly seems that he likes teasing and tormenting you to see your reactions much more than the physical aspect of it all.

humor him, and he will reward you accordingly.

but don't let him get too lost in it. he has a tendency to forget that you're not merely a toy to play with.

set some boundaries and you'll be alright.

once you both decide it's enough, he's a thoughtful gentleman again, bringing a glass of water for you, and helping you clean yourself up.

will let you rest your head on his lap, gentle light of fireflies surrounding you.

he sings a shooting melody, letting you peacefully drift off to sleep.

[devilfic]

❝right place, right time❞

X. we don't fight fair.

parts: previously plot: you and bruce talk some more about your arrangement. everyone wants to know what's going on with you two. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: surgeon!reader, secret identities, slow burn, angst is back baby, but so are the romcom plot beats, somebody get gordon a drink and get one for me too. words: 7.6k. a/n: LOTS of plot this chapter, but also some maybe cute things coming later. in between the horrors :D

It takes more coaxing than you would like for Bruce to let you leave alone two days later. Even with proof of a patient, he insists he send you in his car, with his driver and his guards. One of the cops on your detail had confessed they were feeling redundant, leisurely as they were anyway, parked outside General with coffees barely keeping hot in the November chill, “Just the one today, right doc?”

You snuggle deeper into your coat, hands eagerly grasping at the warmers in your pockets, “Just the one. If everything goes smoothly, I’ll be out before lunch.”

“Well, we’ll be here. Holding down the fort.” The two of them snicker to themselves. Glancing to the side, you see Bruce’s men: one in the driver’s seat of his car and the other waiting by the entrance for you. Unlike your detail, they dared not crack a smile for fear of looking too cheerful. You wouldn’t admit it out loud (because these cops were being paid to keep you alive), but you felt like your life was in much better hands with people who weren’t currently goofing around on the hood of their car.

“Right. Thanks, fellas.” You can’t be bothered to sound sincere, and from their general lack of acknowledgement, they don’t seem to care.

You spin on your heels, preparing to follow Bruce’s guard into the hospital, but nearly crash into a woman walking behind you. The collision has you stumbling and jumping back, Bruce’s guard jumping forward, and the woman baring her teeth at you in a… smile?

Her teeth glint bleach-white off the gathering snow, a few shades lighter than the hair smoothly pinned at her crown. Unlike everyone else shuffling past on the icy sidewalk, she is perfectly content with standing right in front of you under the porte-cochère. You supposed the black, mink coat wrapped around her person kept her all warm and toasty. You felt jealous. Then you felt like you should apologize for ramming into her, but nothing came out.

“Apologies, I didn’t mean to scare you,” The extravagant woman speaks first, glancing over her shoulder at the guard who now looms between the two of you, prepared to defend if need be, “Oh! Hello, pleasure to meet you.” She reaches a hand out to the guard and when he doesn’t go to take it, she snatches his hand up from his side in a firm handshake.

You’re more forthcoming with your hand when she turns to you, though you’re not at all sure why she’s bothering to introduce herself. Anyone else would’ve moved on by now. And flipped you off while they were at it.

“Ma’am, is there a problem here?” One of the cops pipes up from behind you, eyes fixed on the woman.

Her smile grows wider, “Not at all, officer. I just thought this all looked so… curious.” She gestures between the cop car and Bruce’s car with one French-tipped finger, “You wouldn’t happen to be a celebrity doctor, would you? Plumping up the pillow-faces of our city’s darling socialites, perhaps?”

You try to scoot around the woman, but she moves with you, keeping perfect eye contact with you the whole time, “I’m real sorry, but I need to get going. I have an appointment-“

“With Bruce Wayne?”

You flinch. The woman looks… familiar, now that you’re looking at her more closely. Her name escapes you. “Excuse me?”

“Bruce Wayne. That’s his car- well, one of them anyway. A source of mine says it’s the same one from two days ago when you both arrived together for… something. And the same one from a few weeks ago; if I recall, Mr. Wayne made a generous donation—a whole wing!—to Gotham General earlier this month. And now you’ve been spotted using his car. What’s that all about?”

The same cop from before flanks your side, locking you in with Bruce’s guard and this mysterious woman, “Lady, they’re busy. I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

“I only want to ask a few questions.”

“And they don’t have to answer. If you keep this up, I’m gonna write you up for harassment.”

She looked like she’d been waiting to hear that. She reaches within the folds of her coat and pulls out a badge, brandishing an ID for the cop to read, “Whatever happened to freedom of the press?”

You peer at the ID yourself, at the impeccably styled photograph of the same woman with the same blonde hair falling in loose, Hollywood curls that frame her smile. Beside her photo is her name: Vicki Vale. You suddenly remember where you’d seen her before.

Vicki knows you know, too. You try to sidestep her for the door but she crowds in on you, barreling through the arms that attempt to hold her back, “Are you Mr. Wayne’s doctor? Is he sick? Is he dying?”

Your lip curls back in a snarl, “What ever happened to HIPAA?”

That amuses her. “Is he in the car right now? Is that why you’ve got all this security? Is Bruce Wayne paying for your protection after you were taken hostage a few weeks ago?”

The cop grabs Vicki by the upper arm, managing to wrangle her away from you, but she only pivots to the car, tapping her nails on the tinted windows and calling out for Bruce to comment. You almost feel sorry for her, in the way you might feel sorry for a rabid dog walking in circles on a busy street.

You feel a hand on your back and Bruce’s guard ushers you quickly into the hospital, even as Vicki shouts after you for clarification on Bruce’s whereabouts. His expression, as always, is flat.

When you’re far enough away from the lobby, you ask, “Does that kind of thing happen to… him a lot?”

The guard doesn’t bother to pause in his stride, doesn’t even bother to look down at you as he answers, “Yes.”

You supposed if you had to deal with people like Vicki Vale all your life, you’d become a recluse too.

At the very least, you hadn’t said anything damning. She would have nothing to go off of with whatever soundbite she managed to grab from you, and God save her editor when they’d inevitably have to cut out her getting threatened by a cop.

She’d been waiting for you, though. How she knew you’d be here, at this time, meant she’d either been tailing you or she had someone on her payroll doing it for her. The thought makes your stomach churn.

Bruce had been in your office twice, but you had never been in his.

It was bigger, obviously; it’s two floors below the penthouse with a receptionist outside and some hallways leading to God knows where. The receptionist—Jennifer, who insists you call her Jenny—is very forthcoming with refreshments as you wait outside for Bruce’s meeting to finish. You decide there’s no better time than now to pick apart the marble floors and TVs on the wall replaying WE’s corporate reel.

The lobby downstairs was modern, clearly remodeled, but Bruce’s office and penthouse were comparatively frozen in time. You could almost picture the first Waynes walking through here all those years ago. Everything—from the luxurious leather chair you were sitting on, to the warm low light, to the gentle clicking of Jenny’s fingers on the keyboard, to the empty glass of sparkling water she’d given you had almost made you forget that you were currently living in the penthouse upstairs.

The door to Bruce’s office opens, breaking you out of your contemplation. A man in a fine suit walks out, chatting with Bruce, though you couldn’t see the latter from where you were sitting. You can only catch the last half of their conversation: something about an auction?

You don’t have much time to think on it. Jenny quickly rises from her desk and slips into Bruce’s office, and a few seconds later comes out to invite you in.

You don’t see Bruce at first. The room is just as big as you imagined. Bruce’s desk is right across from the doors, backlit by large windows letting in the noonday light. It’s a heavy, wooden thing that is far bigger than it really has any business being with next to nothing actually on it. And, notably, he is not sitting at it.

It takes you a second to spot him to your left at a built-in bar, washing out a glass of what looked like dark liquor down the drain. It isn’t until Jenny shuts the door behind you that he looks over at you, setting the empty glass on the counter.

Today, he’d forgone a sweater for a white button-up with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. You noted the healed over cuts and scars on his arms and wondered if people asked about them the way you had, enchanted (rather than perplexed) by stories of martial arts hobbies with no concerns for where he went at night. He watches you thinking about it, but before you can ask, he speaks first, “So, you met Vicki.”

Your shoulders slump just at the mention of her. Bruce catches it and a smile, however small, warms up his expression. “Unfortunately.”

“Bet she made an impression.”

You cross the room in a few strides, undoing your coat and throwing it over a nearby chair, “She’s tactless. She said her source recognized your car and now she wants to know what we are to each other,” You pause in your ranting when you see him pour a bit of brandy into the glass next to him, “Is that for me?”

He casually hands it to you, “You look like you need it.”

You don’t have the marbles to take offense to that at the moment. You knock back the shot in one go, then go to pour yourself another one as Bruce watches you. After you throw back the second one, you realize that he hasn’t responded to you. “Weren’t you listening? I said she’s following us.”

“Plenty of reporters are, she’s not special.”

“Wh- sorry, what?”

Bruce shrugs, “Vicki Vale isn’t the only reporter in Gotham who knows what cars I drive, who I go to lunch with, or where I put my money.”

“Isn’t that…” You start to ask, but the way Bruce is looking at you makes you feel like your perfectly reasonable question has a perfectly obvious answer already, “…isn’t that bad?”

“Not when I know what cars they drive. I know who works for them. When I don't want to be seen, I’m not seen. They don’t have that luxury.”

“You keep tabs on all of them?”

You watch Bruce lean against the bar to face you, one hand in the pocket of his- okay, whoa. Either his thighs were getting bigger or his pants were getting tighter. You don’t remember his other suits being this… formfitting. You can’t help but notice how they stretch as he reclines, and though your eyes flick back up to his before he can catch you, he makes no mention of it… even if his eyes narrow some. He waits until he’s sure he has your undivided attention, “I like to be informed. Especially since we’re selling a narrative, now.”

“A narrative.” After a moment, it clicks in your mind. “That we’re together. The narrative we never agreed on selling.”

Bruce brushes right past that, “So what’d you tell Vicki?”

You pour yourself a third shot, though it’s a bit more modest. You cap off his brandy and move away from the bar as if it would silence the siren song of day-drinking, “I told her that asking if you're dying is a HIPAA violation.” Bruce's mouth twitches as if containing a laugh. "What?"

You watch him contemplate telling you, and then, as if he suddenly thinks better of it, he shakes his head. “You just reminded me. If we do agree to do this, I will have to fire you. Patient ethics."

“Which is another reason why we probably shouldn’t do it.”

His head tilts, “Probably?”

You flush. You sip on your drink, folding your other arm around your waist as he questions you with his eyes, “I just… I’m frustrated. I hate this. I hate that the safest choice here is to hide away while you take care of it. It’s not that I don’t trust you to do it, I just don’t want to run away.”

Bruce watches you in that way of his, calculating and assessing. “Going in alone is running away too. You’d be Isaac bound at the altar.”

“And you, Abraham? Delivering me to a cruel god?” A rush of exasperation sours his expression. “I’d be stopping him. It’s me he wants.”

“And what about your parents? Your friends? Judith? You’d be fine leaving them to bury you?”

“Of course I’m not- of course not.”

“Then you don’t have to do it. Trust me.”

“I do trust…” You stare at him for a moment, “I trust you. I have to. But you get that this is weird, right? Getting together for the press? Putting all eyes on us? You get why this feels weird for me, don’t you?” Bruce is quiet, holding your gaze steady. You know that this plan wasn’t his first choice, and yet he didn’t look nearly as put off by it as you were. Perhaps it was another way you two differed. Something else to chalk up to being so rich that things like this- maneuvers like this become necessary. “Why do you want to do it?”

He pushes himself off the bar, taking a step and then another until he’s squarely in front of you. You have to squeeze your hands into fists to tamp down the immediate flight response you feel being this close to him, seeing this almost unguarded side to him. It was different from the deer-in-headlights deal he had when you first met: open, but unsure. It rocks you that he doesn’t look so unsure anymore. You swallow and keep his gaze, but it feels like a lot more work for you than it is for him.

“You said you don’t want to hide, and I don’t want to make you. We need a good reason for me to stick by your side. This is a solution.”

“You don’t need to stick by me. I’ve got a detail, remember?”

“I don’t trust two cops to keep you safe.”

“Your guards, then. You’ve got more than enough to do the job for you.”

Something in Bruce’s eyes flicker, “Maybe I want it to be me.”

Your courage slips. Your lips part, sounding out words you can’t bring yourself to say. What do you say to that?

He wants it to be him. He wants to be the one to keep you safe.

Logically, you know he’s right. GCPD’s finest couldn’t hold a candle to his strength and dexterity. They couldn’t even keep him out of their servers. And his guards were better, but they were still fallible. A gunshot or a stab wound would take them out just as easily as it would anyone else. The man before you had survived both of those things and more.

Uncanny warmth unfurls your fists. It curls around your rib cage, through each bone, around each lung, worming its way up your throat and unspooling in your mind. You feel warm all over. It is a terribly strange feeling to have for Bruce Wayne, but you’re having it all the same.

If he was still just Batman to you, you might’ve done something you couldn’t easily take back.

You suddenly wish for the times when that was the case, when blindfolds were commonplace, so you wouldn’t have to look him in the eye or think through how one might have gone through with those thoughts, if one had the chance- “As far as reasons go,” you struggle around the lump in your throat, “That’s not the worst.”

Bruce smiles.

He skirts around you and heads for the desk as you watch him go, the scent of him finally permeating past your defenses. He didn’t smell like green apple today—more sandalwood or pine—and as you debate on the specific notes, he comes back to you with a flier in hand. It takes your scent-drunk mind a minute to read it.

Gotham City Food Bank presents: The Thanksgiving Bachelor Auction!

You stare. Bruce is still holding the flier out to you, expecting a reaction. You can’t really think of one. “Uh.”

“I’d like you to come.”

“Why…?”

“The food bank puts together Thanksgiving baskets every year for the needy: turkeys, tofu, yams, stuffing, the works. They do a charity event to raise money to stuff the baskets. It’s for a good cause.”

“That’s awesome. What does this have to do- oh, fuck.”

Bruce raises his eyebrows. You recall what the man from earlier mentioned about an “auction”. You snatch the flier away to look at the finer details. It would be this weekend, there were six bachelors planned (including Bruce), and each person was encouraged to bid big for charity. Dinner would be provided. It sounded nice.

“You can bring Dr. Madison,” Bruce offers, “I think she likes me.”

She does. She painfully does. You could imagine her emptying this month's and last month's paycheck on a date with Bruce. Taking him to the nicest (and least vandalized) sushi joint in the city, engaging him with tales of the kids she's saved and her love of Broadway. Pampering him with praises for his charity work, admiring him openly and easily, charming him the way she charmed him at General.

She is a charming, sweet, beautiful woman. Bruce would look very good with her, even for charity. You wonder what things would've been like had he broken into her apartment instead of yours.

“Just wait 'til she finds out you personally invited her," you force a laugh, "She's going to have to take out a loan."

"I didn't know you were planning to bid on me, too." He's joking. Obviously, he's joking, if the barely restrained smile is anything to go by.

"In your dreams, maybe." Bruce shrugs. "But... I thought we were creating a narrative. Letting someone else buy you for a night isn't very romantic." You hate how hesitant you sound, like the idea of it displeased you. You don’t mean to sound that way, of course. It's just that if anyone were going to go on a date with Bruce... shouldn't it be you?

“The dates are just for fun. You'd be my real date.” His real date. God. “It would make you look like a good sport." He sees you mulling it over, still unsure. He folds the flier into his pocket. "Or not. We don't have to tell them anything yet. I wouldn't want to make it awkward for Dr. Madison if-“

If what? If she found out you were "dating" Bruce days after telling her to her face that you didn't know his relationship status? God forbid she rub it in your face after you spent so long being indifferent about him. “It's fine. We'll come. But maybe hold off on calling me your real date until you’ve fired me. Officially. You know.”

“I'll have my people talk to your people.”

You feel queasy at the smile he gives you, so casual and reassuring. You could really use a lie-down right about now. “Okay. Well. I’ll see you at home.”

Bruce blinks, but you’re already heading for the doors of his office before you've realized what you just called his place. You hear a quiet “see you” from behind, but you don’t dare to look back.

“Please don’t agitate the inmates. We are liable for anything that happens to you on the premises, but if you go poking around where you shouldn’t, that’s on you.”

The corrections officer hands you a clip-on badge with your name on it, but when she goes to ask Batman for his ID, she hesitates.

“He’s with me.” Detective Gordon assures her from his other side. The officer’s eyes narrow. James raises an eyebrow, “I talked to the warden about it. If you’d like to bring it up with him.”

That seems to be all the convincing she needs. She passes James his badge and gestures for you three to continue on down toward the visitation room.

It had been a hassle getting Bruce through the metal detectors, and it had been distraction enough that it didn’t weigh on you just who you were going to see until you were already in the room.

It was wide, with vending machines and a couple of tables scattered about, barred windows allowing a look into the unusually sunny afternoon outside. A handful of inmates were already there: some visiting family, others meeting with lawyers. It made it easy to spot him. Lucien was the only one alone, and from the looks of him, he was more happy to see you than you were to see him.

As you three walk over, he stands from the table, grinning ear-to-ear. You barely remembered his face from when you were younger, save for the same patchy beard that had yet to fill in after all these years. He greets Bruce first, holding out a hand, “Wow. You know, I’ve never seen you up close before. Kinda glad about that.”

Bruce does not shake his hand. Lucien’s smile is unwavering. His eyes slide past yours to meet the detective’s, and James shakes his hand out of pity.

It isn’t until you and James sit down that Lucien finally looks at you dead on. “You look good.” You feel your stomach lurch. It didn’t feel good to hear, especially when he looked at you like freshly caught prey. When you make no move to reply to that, he shrugs, “I almost didn’t recognize you. I hear you’re a doctor now. Really worked your way up from gutter trash, huh?”

Your expression hardens and he snickers.

James cuts in for you, “Mr. Goulding, we requested a visit because we think you might be able to help us with an ongoing case you were involved in. Can you tell us what you remember about Dimitri Young?”

Lucien’s eyes slither back to James, “Not much. Kid wasn’t with us long. He was… skinny. Cried easy. Up Nat’s ass all the time.”

“Were you close with Ms. Young?”

“Yeah, yeah. You could say that. We worked with each other. Ran the trade for a while with a couple other kids. Got a lot of customer service experience back then. She was… nice. Shame what happened.”

James raises an eyebrow, “Seems like you were on good terms. And after Natalie was killed, did you keep up with Dimitri? Visit him at Arkham, maybe? Write him letters?”

Lucien glances at you. “Well… it was tricky. Thanks to the good doctor and friends, I had to steer clear of the whole thing for a while. Felt bad for the kid, though. When I heard about the plea deal… I’d have taken life here over Arkham. I don’t care how fucked up the kid got over Nat’s death. What they’re doing down there?” He looks over at James and grimaces, “That’s the real criminal shit.”

You remembered that. His lawyer had pleaded insanity under the guise he’d get parole on good behavior, gain sympathy for having lost his only family so brutally. You remembered what Bruce said too; he’d been good. He was doing good until he saw you.

James gears up to ask another question but Lucien cuts him off, “Are they gonna talk or are they just decoration?” He points his finger at you and Bruce who hovers over your shoulder.

You wring your hands underneath the table, feeling Bruce’s eyes burning into the back of your skull. The truth was that you had a list of questions to ask him. You’d stayed up all night writing them down, rehearsing them.

Now, you could only remember Natalie and the barrel of her gun.

Lucien was there, too. He was on the frays of the memory as he always was. The shootout had yielded successes and failures, and Lucien, who’d been there that night—who laughed as Alex laughed and laughed harder when the bullet nestled itself into the meat of her brain—had not been found for years after that. You thought sometimes that you saw him on the street, but his appearance in your memory was just as frayed.

It all comes back to you now that you’re sitting in front of him. The everyman, a person meant to blend into the crowd. It didn’t surprise you that he’d managed to stay out of here for so long.

“…You don’t have to if you’re not ready.” James’ voice floats in between your musing, making you aware of his and Lucien’s eyes on you. Lucien is still smiling, strands of golden hair slipping out of the small bun at the back of his head.

“Why did you stay with the Vipers for so long?”

Your question surprises him, like he hadn’t expected you to have a voice after all these years, “I was open to new opportunities. But they paid well and you’re almost guaranteed a good position if you don’t get gunned down before 18. I was running my own little unit of teenyboopers before I got locked up.”

You frown. How casual he is describing it all. “They didn’t toss you aside as soon as you got too old to control?”

“No, no. That was your friend’s big issue, wasn’t it? Scared to be controlled. Nah. The boss man liked me. You know they like ‘em young, easy to impress upon and all that. They want the lifelong loyalty. I’ve never been that devoted, you know? But I liked the money.”

“Do you know what happened to Dimitri?” This question, Bruce asks. For the first time, you see Lucien’s smile dim some.

Lucien clears his throat, “No. Kid kick the bucket?”

“He broke out with some inmates not too long ago. He’s on the street hunting down people related to Nat’s case.”

Lucien looks from Bruce to you, then breaks out into a fit of hysterical giggles. The sound is grating to your ears. “Holy shit. He wants to kill you.”

“He’s killed one person already,” James stresses, trying to save you the humiliation. “We need to know if you think he could be working with the Vipers again. We believe someone is supplying him with… venom.”

“Venom? Fuck me. That’s expensive, especially those newfangled strains they had on the street when I was out. Can really fuck you up if you’re not careful.”

“Did the Vipers have their hands on that kind of stuff? You were a lieutenant after all.”

“Maybe. Not as much as they did drops. That was all the rage. Venom’s too volatile and, like I said, it can really fuck you up,” Lucien exhales hard through his nose. “If Dimitri’s on that, he’s not gonna last. Especially if the Vipers are giving it to him.”

You frown, “Why especially?”

“I mean, come on. Same reason you and your friend beat the shit out of him all those years ago,” You flinch at the memory. “He was weak and nobody gave a shit about him except Nat. My guess is the kid probably went back to ‘em for help, and they saw an opportunity to make him a lab rat.” You feel Bruce shift behind you as his cape brushes what little of your arm you were allowed to leave exposed here. Lucien’s eyes drift up Bruce’s body, sparkling with some new recollection, “And with Mr. Vengeance on the streets, I imagine juicing your best men up with venom oughtta make a nice challenge.”

Lucien watches as you process what he'd realized instantly. Behind the feigned impassivity, some little bit of him seems to find this just as awful as you do. Even if it's just pity, a shake of the head as foresight grants him the knowledge that what comes next will undoubtedly be a tragedy.

It had to have been Dimitri’s first time on venom when he attacked Russo, and as uncoordinated as he was, he had put up a fight against Bruce. You couldn’t imagine what he’d be like if he got better at it. If he got more of it. And he would, if the Vipers had any sense. You knew they didn't give a shit about you, or Russo, or Alex, or Dimitri. They were just hoping that his rage would make a casualty out of the Batman.

He was going to kill himself for the chance. And the Vipers wouldn't care. They would leave his doped up, bloated carcass in the street like they had left Nat.

You realize that you aren't breathing when you feel a cool hand on your upper back, closing around your scruff and sending a jolt of awareness through you. You almost think that it's Dimitri—having crawled out of your racing thoughts and come to take you once and for all—before realizing that it was Bruce, hovering so close now that his cape brushed your shoulders. His leather-clad thumb brushes against the nape of your neck, and when you look up to see him looking down at you, you catch him imploring you for something. Urging you to get out of your head.

Looking at him reminds you to breathe. You take one deep breath in, holding his gaze, and turn back to Lucien.

When you do, he looks different now. His eyes linger on Bruce’s hand. When you ask him your next question, he doesn’t seem to delight in the drama of it anymore, “After Dimitri was put away, what did the Vipers do?”

Lucien stares at you, then past you. His tone is solemn after a few moments of silence, “It was business as usual. They packed up what they could, moved to their other safe-houses in the city, relocated and reallocated. They talked about… the kid costing more than he was worth. Handful of us pitched in and got Nat a grave. I’ve been a few times. Not recently. It was nice.”

“Where?”

His eyes narrow at you, “Why do you give a shit? You feel guilty? Wanna leave some flowers for the dearly departed?”

You feel your lower lip wobble and you curse the feelings burning inside you. You were trying so hard to keep it together. “Do you think any of the Vipers would bother to tell him?”

He stares at you for a minute. Someone new walks into your peripheral view. It’s one of the correctional officers warning you about time. Something soft coats Lucien’s voice then, "She's in St. Agatha’s cemetery, near the treeline. The name on the marker is Adelpha Lions. We couldn't bury her as Natalie.”

Adelpha Lions. St. Agatha's. You think about bringing her flowers, but the thought leaves a terrible taste in your mouth.

The officer from before comes back to escort the three of you out, and Lucien doesn't bother to acknowledge her or James thanking him for his time. He only watches you, leveling you with a look of such contempt that you feel your chest hollow out, breath stolen again. He watches you well until the door to the visitation room swings shut.

Bruce and James walk ahead of you, though you notice that Bruce lags behind, glancing back at you every once in a while to make sure you're keeping up. James mentions something about keeping an eye on the cemetery, just in case Dimitri does know about it, and it leaves the same terrible taste in your mouth from before.

You know you ought to say something, but you find yourself drifting after them, mind elsewhere, stuck on the way Lucien looked at you. It was like a switch flipped when he saw Bruce touch you.

Why had he touched you? So blatantly, so intimately? He had to have known how that would look. Could it have been that he didn't care? Or, that he cared more about you?

You peek at Bruce’s profile as you walk; the cold lights above you both make the black of his cowl stand out, but they also make the blue of his eyes that much more piercing when they suddenly zero in on you. Your name is called. You look to the side and see James staring at you, expecting, worried almost, “You good back there?”

“Sorry. What?”

“I said I’d like to talk to you.”

“Oh. Sure.”

“Alone. If you don't mind.”

You look at Bruce. His eyes have focused on James now, searching for what he might want to talk about. You wished you could read minds. You decide it couldn't hurt to ask, “Can I ask what about?”

“Just some... questions. We haven't had the chance to really speak since the night you were attacked. I'd like to follow up with you." You bristle when you realize he expects Bruce to fully leave. James notices, glancing between you and Bruce. "I’ll drop you back at Wayne Tower, since your detail says that’s where you’re staying now.” When you don't make a move to confirm, he sighs, jerking his thumb toward the exit, "...I'll let you two talk."

You watch him walk toward the parking garage, just as Bruce crowds up against you, dropping his voice to a whisper, "He wants to know about me."

"Yeah, no shit. What do I say to him?"

"I told him I'd look into Bruce Wayne to keep him off my trail. There's not much I can do since you told him what you saw." You can hear the irritation bleed through his words. "As far as he knows, Bruce Wayne could be a suspect and you could be in danger."

You curse under your breath, "So I need to clear your name."

"What exactly did you tell him the night you were attacked? Exactly."

"I... I said that I had reason to believe... uh, confidential information was leaked to Bruce."

"Did you tell him exactly what the information was?"

"No."

"Did you tell him where you saw it?"

"No. Just that I knew you knew something you shouldn't. But he knows I had no proof."

Bruce goes quiet. You see him looking off to the side, eyes flicking to and from as he thinks about what to say next. Each second feels like a minute, and you keep watch over the direction James went for fear he'd come looking for you after too long.

You feel Bruce's hand take your upper arm and he brings you closer, tucking you away from the security cameras overhead and into him instead, "Can you lie?"

"You want me to lie to a detective?"

"We don't have a lot of options here. Can you lie?"

You frown, biting into your bottom lip to ground yourself. The pain focuses you some, "What do you want me to say?"

It's your luck that James is patient. A few minutes later, you find him propped up against the trunk of his car, hands in his pockets as he waits patiently for you and Bruce. Bruce gives you both a single nod before heading off to his own car, leaving you alone with the detective and the world of questions he could be gearing up to ask you.

But before you prepare yourself for the first one, James walks around to the driver's side door, flashing you a playful look, “You ever seen the Bat Signal up close?”

The answer was obviously no, but now that it was right in front of you, you wanted nothing more than to see it turned on. You'd seen it light up the cloudy night sky a million times it felt like, and it never failed to take your breath away. It's far too sunny out to see it now. As the chilly breeze tries to sneak under your clothes, you turn to watch the sunlight glint off the skyscrapers, enjoying the little bit snowy Gotham afforded this late in the year.

The city’s still loud from this high up, but it’s different. Kind of like how it felt watching the city from the penthouse. Up here, it felt secluded. Private. Perhaps that’s why James picked it. He kicks the base of the floodlight with his shoe and it barely tremors, “Was a hell of a time trying to get this thing up here. Chief's still coming around to it.”

You think about the burner phone in your pocket. Bruce’s relationship with the rest of the GCPD was… strained at best, but he and James seemed close; you wondered just how deep their relationship went, exactly. Apparently, not deep enough to tell him who he was.

His voice catches your attention just then. “You living with Wayne, now? How'd that happen?"

You breath out a heavy sigh, “I uh… yeah. He offered. After the whole thing with Dimitri. Just until he’s caught.”

“That’s awfully generous.” You don’t respond to that, so he presses more. "Did he offer or did he...?"

"He offered. No coercion." That wasn't entirely the truth, but you had no room for nuance right now.

“Do you feel safe with him?”

“I do.”

“You seemed worried when we first talked about him. You said he had your file.”

“I... I said that I thought he had access to it. Because of something he said."

James’ eyes narrow at you, watching you with his head tilted. “What'd he say to you?"

"He just mentioned something about the... the case. I told him where I grew up and it jogged a memory."

"Is that so?"

You cursed how apathetic James could make himself look. You had no clue if this was working on him, only that you had to follow through with this, seams tight, no loopholes. "He heard about the shooting. His butler, Alfred, he's always been really protective of Bruce. Everyone knew the Vipers snatched kids with no one to check on them, I think he just wanted Bruce to stay safe. Make sure he didn't make the wrong decision if he went out and got himself in trouble. Like I did."

"So, you told Wayne where you grew up, he brought up the shooting, it triggered something in you. You assumed he knew about your file and you felt threatened. That's why you went to the Bat."

"Yeah."

"And now... nothing?" James raises an eyebrow, gesturing to the empty air. "It's all good now?"

It wouldn't be a good story if it was all good. You twist away from James, leaning against a nearby pillar, "Not exactly. I don't know if he really knows or not, it just felt like a scary coincidence. You know? But I told Batman and he said he'd look into it. I trust him above all else."

"You seemed so sure the night I interviewed you."

"I was looking for patterns."

James hums. "The Bat seems to really like you."

That a was a shift. You perk up a bit. “What do you mean?”

“He speaks highly of you. Says I can trust you like I trust him. If you say you feel safe for now, I trust you." Your skin prickles with flattery. "There's just something that's not quite making sense to me."

“Oh?”

"When I looked into your file, nothing looked out of place. GCPD keeps a log of who accesses a file, and from what I could tell, it hadn’t been touched in years. It looked fine… at first.”

Had this been a few days ago, this information would have shook you to your core. It still does, but for an entirely different reason now.

“I’m—admittedly—not great with computers. Normally, I’d ask the guys down in IT about this kind of thing, but seeing as… anyone could be involved, I had my daughter take a look at it. She-“

“Your daughter?”

James pauses. You were no cop, but that didn’t sound particularly legal. Then again, you didn’t have much room to speak. “She… she showed me the metadata, beyond just the stuff we usually see up front, and she found something. The database logs who accesses what because poking around files you have no business looking at can get your badge taken. Needless to say, she found more than a few things wrong.”

“Oh?” This time, your “oh” sounds decidedly more nervous.

“The name and badge number of the last person to access your file was scrubbed from the frontend, but it was still available on the backend. It was an officer, Paul Brown. When I pulled him aside to ask why he needed your file, he claimed he didn’t know anything about it or you. He seemed to be telling the truth, but doing some further digging, I found a trail of cases he’d been accessing over the past two years. Cases related to certain notable figures in the city.”

Notable figures. Like Bruce? Was there more he hadn’t told you?

"I found a connection between those cases and some recent movement from the Penguin. Turned out the guy was a mole feeding intel to Cobblepot. And not just him. I was checking the files he accessed against a timeline of events, and I have reason to believe he’s been feeding a couple of politicians the same need-to-know information. Politicians like Daniel Roberts.”

“Councilman Roberts.” You feel your blood pressure rise as James nods, “Detective, I don’t mean to be rude, but should I even be hearing about this? This sounds serious, way too serious for me-“

“You were there that night at the party Wayne threw, and so was Roberts.”

“Well, yes, but that doesn’t mean anything. There were tons of politicians there who support the mayor. Bruce is interested in politics. Doesn’t mean he’s in bed with them.”

Your defense seems to intrigue James. He rests an arm on the floodlight, “Did the two seem chummy at the party?”

“They didn’t really… talk. I mean, he intervened when I got into an argument with Roberts, but-“

“An argument about what?”

You could kick yourself. It was like this man had a skill for drawing the truth out of you. “It was stupid. He said some stuff about Batman and it got me riled up. Bruce put out the fire.”

“Roberts is the most vocal anti-vigilante member on the city council. Now I know he's connected to a dirty cop, and that he's in Bruce Wayne's circle. Doesn't that seem a little strange to you?”

You swallow, “What exactly are these questions leading to, detective?”

James moves away from the floodlight, approaching you slowly, cautiously, as if he expected you to take flight the second he got too close. “You told me that night that you knew Wayne had information about you he shouldn't have. I found the thread, I pulled it, and now I find Wayne at the center all over again. I'm looking for patterns, too. So, I'm going to ask you again," You watch him reach into his pocket and pull out his phone, flipping the screen to you. In big, bold text, it reads, "NOD IF WE'RE BEING RECORDED" "Are you sure you're safe?"

You should win an Emmy for how you school your expression into one of complete nothingness. All the while in your head, you are cursing the very bed Bruce was conceived upon. You curse him for leaving you here to explain all this, but most of all, you wish you’d kept his bottle of brandy.

You shake your head. James blinks. "I'm sure." You watch him exhale heavily, shoving his phone back into his pocket. "I'm telling you what I believe, detective. I believe I was wrong about Bruce Wayne."

"Maybe. But maybe there's more out there I still need to find."

"You're a good detective, James. Thank you for caring so much. If you can't trust me, trust Batman. If there's something to find, he'll find it."

You can see the slight shake in James’ shoulders. You wonder if he’s starting to freeze up here. You reach into your pocket and hand him one of your warmers, and though he recoils when you first hold out your hand, he thinks about it for a moment, then takes it. "You and the Bat..." He starts, rubbing his thumb against the heat pack in his hand. "He tell you who he is?"

You dodge the question as stealthily as you can, "Did he tell you?"

James considers your question, stern-faced and shivering, “No. But I have my theories." After a moment, he side-eyes you. "You didn't answer my question."

"It's... not for me to say."

He's not satisfied, and you didn’t expect him to be, but he looks too tired to argue now. He runs a hand along his face and looks out onto the city horizon. Under his breath, you hear him whisper, “Yeah. I figured.”

"He trusts you a lot, you know. For the record. I can see why."

You watch him reach into the pocket of his coat and pull out a lighter and cigarette, bringing it to his lips to take a long, deep drag. He holds one out to you, but you shake your head. You'd never been one for smoking (you'd seen the effect it had on the insides), but you could envy the temporary peace on James' face as he blows out a cloud of smoke. "Not a lot of that to spare these days."

a/n: this was a bitch to write with a headache

[soleminisanction]

Issue 6 of "The Saga of the Super Sons" answers an important question: where the fuck has Dick been in this scenario?

Answer, apparently: At college.

Which is... where Bruce Junior is supposed to be. Bruce Junior, whose mother Bruce almost certainly met years after he took Dick in as a ward. Bruce Junior, who appears to be younger than Dick, but not by that much.

If you came at a Silver or Bronze Age writer with today's modern "but why is this character still 17" bullshit, I think they'd laugh directly in your face.

By the by, Dick is here because Bruce has been murdered.

I guess some things never change.

This does present an amusing comparison with the more modern takes on the subject like Prodigal/Knightfall, Gotham Knights (the game) and Battle for the Cowl, because here the boys treat Batman like something they expect to be left to one of them in Bruce's legal, actual will, like the one read out loud by his lawyer, implying the lawyer would be in on the whole secret identity thing.

When that obviously doesn't happen they come to an agreement to both... team up? But also compete? To find out who murdered Bruce, and whoever does the actual uncovering wins the cowl. This, for... reasons involves seal hunting in the Arctic and, ah... northern Native people. Which means a lot of use of a certain slur that all Natives in that biome used to (and still do) get lumped under, which I shall endeavor to write around but just know, there's a lot of it. Like, a lot. A loooooot.

Less awkwardly, check out what Dick Dillin apparently thought a killer whale looked like:

Hell, look at those mildly demonic black seals. I know this was pre-Internet dude but you could've gone to your local library. Or picked up a Seaworld ad.

Another thing that apparently never changes: Super-Sons comics insisting that only blood relatives count as "real" children.

To be fair, I wasn't actually expecting to see Dick referred to as Bruce's son at all in this. And Bruce Jr. is the only one who says this, and he's pretty consistently portrayed as the more immature and bratty one in this equation, so it doesn't really feel like the story is "agreeing" with him, it's just an interesting parallel.

Of course, because this is the 70s, they don't have any consideration for things like tactical costume changes or the realities of being mostly normal guys in the Arctic. So, though the boys arrive wearing sensible parkas, once they change into their superhero costumes Dick is just, snow shoeing through the tundra and water skiing behind a seal in his short sleeves and bare legs.

You'll probably be grateful to hear that the white industrial seal hunter is in fact the bad guy of this story -- this is actually one of the more cohesive stories in the saga so far in that regard. Simon Link was exploiting the land by killing too many seals, and then massacred part of the native village when they fought back trying to stop him, so this man Malook wanted to kill him. But, unable to find him and unable to get the white authorities to listen to him, he instead traveled to America to target his business partner, Bruce Wayne.

Bruce Junior is appalled by the accusations but, interestingly, Dick is willing to hear the guy out. When Link's crime is exposed (with the help of the Supers Senior and Junior, natch), he tries to escape across the ice.... disguised as a seal... aaaaand...

Huh. Okay then. Justice is served, I guess.

Oh also Bruce Senior's still alive.

I mean... good on you for realizing the need to make amends for funding exploitative colonialism, Brucie-boy, but did you have to do it in a way that put your son through the exact same trauma you went through? Complete with the murder mystery dinner theater death scene?

Not to mention your poor wife, do you know how much shit you two have put her through in the last however long it's been?? Junior faked his death complete with a full funeral in the first issue of the saga and now you're doing the same thing! If you actually did marry Talia she'll gut you both the next time she sees you and probably Dick too just because she's never liked him.

Anyway, for a parting shot, check out the image they used to advertise this story on the cover, it's one of the funniest things I've ever seen. Beware the Ominous Pixie Boot!

[lovelywritinglady]

Hey is me again

Okay so here is my other request this is a short one

Here is the request that tengen meet his mom that is the reader tengen knows how get got his heights and strong arms and the same eyes color and the flashy form from

And maybe some funny moments of this

Thank you and have a good day <3

Flashy Mama

Tengen Uzui x fem!Reader

Pure fluff, wholesome

Your pov

My soon to be husband assured me that meeting his mother would be a breeze and that she’d love me. He told me she was a sweet woman and that’s why he’s as flashy as he is today. My nerves were getting to me despite my fiancé’s words of encouragement. As we walked into the Uzui family main estate, we were greeted by one of the butlers there. He then took both of us to this beautiful sun room that overlooked a field of wisteria flowers in full bloom. It was quite a lovely sight to behold on this fine spring day. I was taken out of my thoughts when I heard a sweet feminine voice behind me, who I could only assume was Tengen’s mother. So I promptly turned around only to be greeted with a giant woman.

“Ah you must be Y/N. That’s quite the flashy name you’ve got there.” She spoke with the same confidence as my soon to be husband.

“Yes you must be Mrs. Uzui.” I slightly stuttered. She was tall around at least six feet. Her hair was a beautiful shade of winter snow. Her eyes were slightly more pink that Tengens. She was a well built woman and I could tell exactly where Tengen got his looks from, including his muscles. Despite her size, she was absolutely beautiful. I was in awe of her beauty that I almost forgot I was suppose to be introducing myself.

“You seem a little lost huh.” She chuckled

“Oh no I’m sorry you’re just so beautiful.” I admitted

“I know, but thank you. That’s the only reason my son is as handsome as he is haha.”she boasted.

“Mother I’m only beautiful because I am a god.” Tengen said confidently

“Heh, if you’re a god than what does that make me?” She laughed. “Anyway, it’s quite nice to meet you Y/N. From what my egotistical son has written me, you seem like such a nice girl.” She said bending down slightly as to look at me better.

“Thank you you’re very kind.” I said blushing from the kind words of my future mother in law.

“Shall we have dinner then?” She questioned even though it sounded more like a command.

“Hell yeah, I’m fucking starving.” Tengen said

“Watch your mouth young man. Say that shit again and I’ll kick your ass.” She spat

“Well you’re cursing, so why can’t I?” Tengen whined.

“Because this is my house and I’m your mother.” She said walking away to the dining room.

As we walked I saw my fiancé roll his eyes and grumble something under his breath. Something along he lines of ‘shut up you old hag’. This made me smile widely at their mannerisms. Dinner went well except the random friendly arguing during dinner that made my cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Later that night, we said our goodbyes and made our way back to our shared home.

“So it wasn’t so bad, was it?” Tengen asked while wrapping an arm around my waist pulling close to his side.

“No, not at all I actually had a lot of fun.” I proclaimed.

“Well good. So what do ya think about my mother?” He questioned

“I like her, I think she’s flashy.” I stated confidently while another smile graced my features.

“Hell yeah she is, hahah.” Tengen laughed

“Don’t met her hear you curse now, love.” I laughed. Just then we heard a roaring voice from this distance.

“Tengen Uzui you better not have just cursed!” Mrs. Uzui screamed. I guess yelling also runs in the family?

“I didn’t!” Tengen screamed back as I covered my ears.

“You guys are funny.” I stated

“Yeah maybe, but hey just like you said, I’ve got the flashiest mama around.” He boasted

“Hell yeah you do.” I laughted

“Y/N!” Mrs. Uzui yelled. Which caused my fiancé to pick me up bridal style and ran us both home scared of what his mother might do to both of them.

Thank you so much for reading💜 Thanks @bendymonter for requesting. Hope you like it!

Please feel free to request, comment, and reblog

Click here to see what I’ll write for and HERE for my master list.

•I do NOT own any characters except y/n•

-L.W.L

[shrekgogurt]

I have been watching one million YouTube video essays about pop culture and emphatically not writing over the past several days. This chapter was supposed to be a shorter one and now it’s shaping up to be the longest one so far and I’m deeply frustrated by it. I want it done. Only 3/6 of the POVs are “finished” (aka beta ready) and one of the Baz POVs needs a lot reworked. Narratively, it was the chapter I was least looking forward to writing and in trying to redeem it (infuse it with more emotion) it’s just getting so big. Nevertheless, so many people are out and about today so I’m serving up the first sentence of each POV.

It’s the first day of classes and I’m already in trouble.

I wouldn’t venture so far as to say I have a spring in my step, but I’m faring better than I was last month.

A man who appears to have walked fresh off the set of a k-pop music video just called Baz’s name and I’m not handling it well.

[this is the POV that needs so much reworking so instead here is one sentence I know will stay] “If you’ve been feeling part of the scenery, perhaps you should walk right out of the machinery.”

As I stare at the three gates blocking our exit, I suddenly wish Penny had more friends.

Snow is a bloody contagion.

Okay I’m a little bit just whining some more down here. But GODDAMN it! I keep reading so many beautiful masterpieces by y’all and getting so inspired and wanting to make my shit better. Which is good! But also! This chapter is now 10x harder to write because I want it to be deeper now than it originally would’ve been. And ultimately, again, that’s good! But it’s so much more effort. And I’m being really really hard on myself and the output. And it’s not currently super duper fun. More like when you know what something could be or should be but you can’t get it to shape properly. Or rather, I’m angsty about putting forth the energy to mash it all up to make it better than before. So…it’s all growth. Just a pain in the ass.

Not to mention, the key to unlocking more depth for the Baz bits is Hejira which is a fucking masterpiece. (How can I be Joni? No one can be Joni!) And he doesn’t start out there! I have to bring him to this place of reflection! And like cover the time elapsed. And it’s HARD! BOO! EVIL! I’m doing it to myself!

May the spirit of poetry hopefully overtake me. It’s terribly lacking in this chapter. (I think I’ll be forever chasing the damn high of chapter thirteen.)

Okay done whining.

Thank you for the tags today! @monbons @roomwithanopenfire @blackberrysummerblog @rimeswithpurple @forabeatofadrum @thewholelemon @artsyunderstudy @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @mooncello

Shorter list of tags because it’s late: @bookish-bogwitch @brilla-brilla-estrellita @cutestkilla @emeryhall @hushed-chorus @ileadacharmedlife @ineffable-grimm-pitch @j-nipper-95 @larkral @letraspal @messofthejess @onepintobean @prettygoododds @raenestee @theimpossibledemon @valeffelees @youarenevertooold @mitranian

[fizzyapplecandy]

The one with the female vampire

Ateez Yunho X Fem vampire reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Strangers to Lovers

6.7k words

There are lots of stories featuring the boys as vampires and other supernatural creatures, so I decided to spin this story around. I'm not sure if this will be a one shot, or a few additional chapters. I'll look at the feedback and see if you want some more. :)

This is also my first story, so be prepared.

Enjoy loves X

Myths were always supposed to stay just that - myths. Made up stories to scare children when they refuse to go to bed on time. Legends, depending on the era they are told in, make people behave and follow rules so that they don't end up doing things they aren't supposed to.

I was once a firm non - believer. Those stories only served as a laughing stock. It was different in 1855. People were getting more and more convinced in the presence of the supernatural.

Werewolves, witches, and most of all - vampires. If you asked me back then what I thought about those bogus stories, I would call you insane and laugh right at your face.

However, now, in 2024. I'd kindly remind you not to get on my nerves unless you want me to bite the crap out of your jugular vein.

I was a normal person up until 1855. One day I was walking through the snow, gathering whatever wood I could for a simple fire, the next I was tearing apart an innocent farm house owner along with his wife and two kids. Morbid, I know.

I've learned to control my urges over the 169 years I've been around. Nowadays, I feed from bloodbags and a couple furry animals I find in the forest. It's less tasty, but hey, it keeps me from going on a murderous rampage.

Being as old as I am, I got around the world a lot. From America to Africa, a decent amount of Islands, as well as the cold, hard Arctic. Now I find myself in my own library in Seoul, South Korea.

The perks of being a vampire is the unlimited amount of fortune I've accumulated in the Swis bank. It was more than enough to open up this place and fill it with my collection of antique texts. There are a few knick knacks from museums as well, borrowed (with the use of my compelling charm) from various museums over the years.

I'm quite proud of this place, as I've established a good clientele. I'm even more proud today, as a handsome man enters through the door.

He walks past the counter, going straight to the supernatural section of the library. Twenty minutes later, he is still going around in circles like an idiot.

"Hey there, need some help with something?"

He jumps a bit and turns around. He's even more charming up close with his big brown eyes and plush lips.

His slender fingers push up the rim of his glasses.

"Hey, yeah... I seem to be a bit lost. You see, I'm trying to find this book for my friend, but I have no clue what I'm looking for. So, yeah, help would be appreciated."

I could hear his heart beating rapidly, along with his veins pulsating. He was nervous. If I was a normal person, the rubbing of his sweaty palms on his pants would be a dead giveaway.

"Shoot away then. What are you looking for exactly? I see you went straight to my supernatural section. So, what will it be?"

He took out a crumpled peace of paper from his pocket and cleared his throat.

"Well, my friend Wooyoung wrote down some things this book should contain. We don't know what it looks like. It should have something about the first original vampire, as well as ways to control the transformation. Something like that. I know it sounds crazy, but he's been hellbent about finding this."

He hands me the paper.

"I think it's because he's been watching too many scary movies. He gets obsessed easily. So, yeah, that's it. Do you have something like this here?"

I looked at the scrambled notes and nodded. I knew what he was talking about. There is only one book that contains the original story about the first vampire, and although vague, it gives an insight about the history. The only copy of it is one the top shelf in my library.

Don't ask me how I got it.

I turned around on my high heels and reached above me to pull it out. It's leather bound, kept in pristine condition for centuries with the help of a little witch magic.

"This is 'The Original Story'. It contains everything your friend wants to know. Give this to him, it will settle his curiosity."

As I reached out to hand it to him, our fingers brushed. The spark of electricity was undeniable. I saw it on his face too. The wide eyes, the opened mouth. I quickly retracted my hand and cleared my throat.

"All we have to do now is get you into the system and you'll be able to borrow more books in the future. Come with me."

I stepped around him and bolted to my desk. He followed after with a starstruck expression. It took him a second to compose himself. He fumbled around his backpack and took out his ID, handing it to me.

"Jeong Yunho, is it? It fits you." I smiled and handed him the ID back after putting everything in my computer.

"Yeah, that's me. And you are?"

"Y/N. Y/N Y/L." I could see the surprise on his face.

"Wow, haven't heard of that one in a while. It's really pretty. It kind of suits you."

If I had the ability to blush, I probably would.

"Thank you, Yunho. Enjoy your light reading. I hope it has all of your answers."

He smiled and turned around. Hit the door at a high speed as well.

"Are you okay?" I chuckled.

"Yeah. Embarrassed, but okay. Bye now before I do something even more stupid."

With that, he was out of the door and speeding down the sidewalk. My smile wasn't gone though.

.

.

.

A few days have passed since my encounter with Yunho. Honestly, I haven't been able to stop thinking about our almost magical touch. It was something I haven't felt before, and I've fucked my way through life.

None of those touches could compare to our fingertips touching. I've ransacked my library in hopes of finding an answer, but I came up empty handed.

Just as I was sipping on my coffee (blood concealed in a takeaway cup), somebody cleared their throat. I seriously have to instal a bell above the door.

"Hey there Y/N. How's it going?"

"Yunho, hey! Not so bad. What are you up to?"

He took out the book he borrowed out of his backpack and put it on the counter.

"Well, I've spent the last couple of days trying to find my answers, but this book confuses me. Wooyoung hasn't been helpful either, given he only reads ramen instructions and the occasional porn magazine. Oh..."

I chuckled and watched him turn as red as a tomato.

"Yeah, that was stupid of me to say, sorry. Anyways, I was hoping maybe you could help me? You seem to know your way with books better than I do. Given the library and all."

"Don't you worry buddy. You've come to the right person for this, believe me. Follow me to the sofa."

The library wasn't as full given then we were an hour before closing time. We sat next to each other, and he pulled out a notepad along with a pencil.

"So, there are a few questions in particular he is curious about. He wants to know the begining of the story, and the first vampire. How they feed, how they live, how they supposedly die. Those were the main points of interest."

He flipped through the pages and sighed.

"I've tried getting an answer but everything is so confusing."

I took the book and opened the first page.

"You see Yunho, the book won't help you if your thoughts are scattered. Lucky for you, I have it memorised. You want to hear the legend about the first undead creation?"

He nodded and opened a blank page.

"There was this noble man a couple centuries ago. He had an assortment of wives, as well as an obsession with drinking their blood. He thought it would make him younger and prolong his mortal life. He was stil human at the time."

His eyes widened and I could see him try to swallow a lump in his throat.

"Well, one day after being fed up with acting as a blood bag, one of the wives poisoned his food. He died shortly after in his sleep. They held a burrial deep in the woods, left the grave unmarked and continued on with their lives. Funny thing is, he aimed for eternity, but went to his early grave. Even funnier, his name began with 'Earl' something."

He let a small smile grace his face

"Until one day, a group of hunters witnessed something unbelievable."

I flipped the page and it showed a vague representation of what those pore hunters had seen.

"They couldn't believe their eyes. Right there on the hilltop was the deceased nobleman, drinking blood from one of his wives. Well, ex wives. Eyes as red as the liquid trickling down her neck, and his mouth."

I flipped the page again.

"Three days after, half of the village was dead, the other half turned into vampires."

I sighed and prepared myself to answer another one of his questions. He was immersed in his writing, listening to my every word.

"The only way for a person to become a vampire is to indigest some of their blood before they die. The villagers were attacking him with knives and pitchforks, breaking the skin on his hands and letting the black blood flow freely. He grabbed them by the mouth, and it got into their bloodstream before he drained them."

He stopped for a second and looked over his notes.

"Okay, I get the story. I assume the other vampires made other ones and it went on like that?"

I nodded.

"They figured out how to turn people along the line. They made up covens and separated around the world. At least, that what the legend says."

I had to put in a bit of reality for him because it was getting too believable at this point.

"I get it. But how did people not know about them? Don't they shine in the Sun, or burn? How could they miss it?"

I shook my head in disbelief.

"You humans and your vampire movies. This is not a Twilight fantasy novel where Edward sparkles in the Sun. Be realistic. The Sun doesn't affect them as much as it did in the begining. Vampires only weaken in the daylight. They can easily blend in. The only way you would recognize one is by looking into their eyes when they let the dark side out. Stronger ones have pitch black, newer have a distinct shade of crimson."

He diligently took down every word I was saying. I could tell it piqued his interest as well.

"Okay, got that. Tell me, how do they eat? Is it strictly human blood? Do they... Die, if they don't eat? Like humans?"

I sighed again. Those TV shows and movies got it all wrong.

"A vampire is a living dead person. According to every book known in the world, if you are dead you don't eat. The main source is blood, it only keeps them strong. Animal or human, it doesn't matter. Although, animal blood can't fend them for long. They can eat human food, but it won't mean anything."

"Then how does a vampire die? How do you... Kill it?"

That was the question I dreaded the most. It kind of hurt how much he was interested in the answer.

"Well... There are two ways to take down a vampire. The obvious one is by taking a wooden stake to their heart. The other doesn't kill them, more like incapacitates them so that you can land the final blow. There is an herb called vervain, and it's tough to find. It was used in older times to figure out who wasn't human."

I showed him a picture of the faded purple plant and he nodded.

"I get it. Okay, I think that's about it." He turned towards me and smirked a bit. "You know your way around vampires, it's impressive."

I chuckled and closed the book.

"Well, when you own a library mainly based on supernatural fiction, you find yourself full of knowledge about it."

Our eyes met briefly and I could still see the curiosity running through them. I stood up and went back to my counter.

"Oh my God, look at that. It dark outside. Sorry Y/N, I've overstayed my welcome here. This was really helpful."

I glanced at the clock and was shocked to find it was almost two hours after closing. The place was empty besides us.

"Hey, it's no big deal. I love to be of help in any way. I hope your friend will be satisfied with the answers."

"I hope so, too. He hasn't been himself lately. I find us growing apart day by day, and I don't like it. I know I'm rambling about something that doesn't interest you probably, sorry."

He put his head down and I could sense his unease.

"I want to know what bothers you Yunho. I consider you an acquaintance now. That's one step closer to friends I'd say."

The laught he let out sounded like one of relief. He notices my coffee cup (full of blood) and points at it. It was now my turn to feel uneasy.

"Your coffee got cold because of me. Sorry about that. I'll make it up to you."

I waved him away.

"No big deal, I like it cold anyway. By the way, if you need anything else, you know where to find me."

He nodded and grabbed the doorknob, without hitting the door like last time.

"Thank you Y/N. You're an angel, really. I'll see you around."

It almost felt as if my heart started and stopped beating all over again. Angel? Oh Yunho...

He was out of the door in a second, and I knew he was flustered again. Nevertheless, I waved as I watched him walk down the street for the second time this week.

Only this time, I knew I was in deep trouble.

.

.

.

The next morning I was browsing through the old book Yunho returned when I heard my newly installed bell ring. The man was handsome, abeit a bit short. His long black hair fell over his eyes and there was a little mole underneath one eye. Not a bad sight to see at ten o' clock.

"Hey there, how can I help you?"

"Hi. I'm looking for Y/N. I assume that's you. Listen, you may know me as Yunho's friend. I know you as the only other vampire in town, aside from the lunatic that turned me."

My hand flicking through the pages stopped.

"What in God's name are you talking about?"

I stood up and he hurried to the counter.

"Please Y/N. I don't have anybody else to talk to. I'm going out of my mind here."

I looked around the sitting area, fortunately sparce with customers. I turned towards him and grabbed his hand.

"Come with me."

I dragged him to the back of the supernatural section and tried to compose myself.

"How on Earth do you know what I am?"

He took a moment before he answered.

"I hoped you knew more about vampires than you told Yunho. Calling you one was a shot in the dark. However, when you count in all of the things you told him, some not even available on the internet, I knew you were different."

He took another deep breath.

"I need your help with controling these urges. Yunho probably hates me because I've been avoiding him for two months. That's pretty hard because we live together. We've known each other for twenty years, but I have this incredible urge to tear his neck appart with my teeth."

My eyes bled black and my hands were holding him by his throat against the shelves in an instant.

"You haven't done anything to him, have you? Believe me, I will rip your heart out and shove it down your throat in a second."

Wooyoung tried shaking his head, but he couldn't from my grip. I let him go and he crumbled to the floor. He started coughing, clawing at his throat in the process.

"No... God no! I had to bite three homeless people just last week so that I could come home and avoid him. I would personally kill myself if I let anything happen to him."

I nodded and crouched down to meet his gaze.

"What do you want then? I don't want him in danger, you've gathered as much."

"Okay, this may sound crazy to you, but I need you to come with us to a college bash on Saturday. I can't go there myself, not with too many people around. Yunho and I are at a breaking point. This anual bash is our tradition, this is the last year we can attend. He told me if I don't go with him he'll take that as the ending of our friendship. I can't let him down anymore Y/N. Please."

"Listen, and listen good pretty boy. I'm doing this for Yunho. I could care less if you went on a rampage, I just don't want him caught in the crossfire. Tell me the place and time and I'll be there."

He smiled as he stood up. I followed his movements.

"Believe me, I get it. I finally know why he hasn't stopped talking about you. You're hot as fuck when your mad."

I rolled my eyes and went around him.

"Keep dreaming, pretty boy. As you can tell, my cold heart has been stolen by your best friend."

If he wasn't a vampire, he would be classified as a puppy by the way he was following me.

"Yunho will deliver you all of the important details, don't worry. And hey, a guy could only dream. Besides, he's my best friend, I don't fuck with that."

I nodded as I watched him put his hood up before he opened the door. He pointed at it.

"The Sun is a pain in my ass. Anyways, see you on Saturday Y/N. Expect your boyfriend to stop by soon."

"He's not my..." He was out of the door before I could finish my sentence.

.

.

.

True to Wooyoung's word, Yunho showed up the next morning holding two coffees, one iced, the other hot, in a cup holder.

"Good morning Y/N. How have you been?"

If my heart was still beating, it would stop seeing his smile, directed right at me.

"Hey there. Not bad I might say. How about you? What brings you here? Antoher supernatural adventure?"

He chuckled and put the cups on the counter.

"Believe it or not, I don't want anything to do with the supernatural for a while." My smile dimmed a bit, but I brushed it off quickly.

"What is it then?"

"Well, I'm here to deliver you a new coffee, iced as I remember you liked it cold. And, um... I know Wooyoung's been here. He told you about the bash I assume?"

I took the coffee and held it in my hands. Vampires can indigest human food, but it mostly tastes like concrete. Don't ask me how I know to compare the two. Nevertheless, I took a sip, not wanting to make it suspicious.

Yep, cold, hard, concrete.

"He did. I was surprised at first, but I heard it means a lot to you. To be fair, I was waiting on you to fill me in. That's what a date should do I suppose?"

He flushed a bright red and adjusted his glasses.

"Well, yeah. I, um... I didn't think you would consider it a date, to be honest. I thought Wooyoung might one up me with that. But, yeah. I want you to go as my date, if you don't have anything better to do."

"Well, buddy boy, you're in luck. Aside from this library, my social life is pretty boring. And I won't oppose to a date with a handsome fellow like you."

Yunho got progressively more red as I kept on talking, or flirting my way around him. It felt good to see my impact on him.

"Well then, it's settled. It's on Saturday, which you knew already. It's at the big mansion a couple of miles from our campus. It's been passed down in the family, and our friend Hongjoong is the owner now."

I nodded as I scrabbled my address and phone number on a piece of paper. Handing it over to him I could see the confusion in his expression.

"This is my address and phone number. How can you know where to pick me up, silly? And I need to know more details by Saturday. I have to plan the best outfit for a college bash, God knows I haven't been to one in ages."

"You graduated already?"

I opened and closed my mouth. "Something like that."

"Okay then, it's settled. I hope you won't mind having Wooyoung come with us. I'm the one with the car."

I shook my head. "I don't mind at all, as long as I'm in the passanger seat."

His wide smile matched my own. "That can be arranged."

We looked at each other for some time before his flushed cheeks for the better of him.

"Well, I'll get going now. Enjoy your coffee Y/N. I'll see you on Saturday."

With that he stumbled his way out of the door, basking in the morning sunlight.

It's a shame my cold body couldn't join him in the pleasures.

.

.

.

Saturday rolled around faster than I expected, and here I was obsessing over what to wear. I haven't had this problem for litteral decades. Then again, I haven't been infatuated with a person as much as I am with Yunho.

He's used to seeing me in heels, jeans, sweaters and tight tops. However, tonight I'm pulling all of the stops.

With my blood-red dress, black strappy sandals with a killer heel, and the most expensive golden earrings on, I was more than ready. The perks of being a vampire is our natural beauty is enhanced after we turn. So, I know I'm radiating even more.

Yunho has been texting me non stop for the past couple of days. Texts turned into calls, which later became FaceTime calls. It was nice seeing him all relaxed, with his comfy pyjamas and black rimmed glasses.

What I also enjoyed was flustering him with my lacy tanks and satin nightgowns. I could see his flushed cheeks even with the bedroom light off.

Thinking about our late night talks almost made me miss the doorbell ringing. With one last look in the mirror, I was ready for this wild, college bash ride.

"Coming!" My heels clacked against the floor as I picked up my black handbag from the rack.

The door swung open and there he stood in all of his handsome glory, alongside a grining Wooyoung.

"Well hello there Y/N. You almost made my heart stop. Baby, you are on fire!"

Wooyoung winked at his own internal joke, but it made Yunho snap out of his trance. He ran his hand trough his brown locks and cleared his throat. He was wearing a black button down, top three buttons off, sleeves rolled up. The sliver of skin was enough to make me salivate. The veins on his arms were enought to make me go hungry.

"Hey Y/N. Wow... You look.... Just wow."

"Way to go big boy, your vocabulary is immaculate." Wooyoung jabbed him in the ribs and Yunho looked down at his shoes.

I glared at the shorter boy and smiled and Yunho.

"Thank you, buddy boy. I got dressed up all for you. Now, boys, we have a party to go to. Come on!"

Before he could react to my comment I was out of the door and down the steps to the exit. They followed after me as we stepped outside.

Yunho took the lead and opened his passanger door for me.

"Here you go Y/N."

"Thanks.... How nice of you to... -" "Hey that's my seat!"

If it weren't for my strength, I would be on my ass glaring up at this stupid, stupid boy.

"Knock it off Woo, it's hers for tonight."

The tone in Yunho's voice surprised the both of us. Shy, demure Yunho, being all manly? That did some things to me, not gonna lie.

"Okay, okay. I'll let her have it, but just for tonight! The things I do for young love!"

With his hands in the air, he let our a laugh before climbing into the backseat. Yunho shook his head and helped me sit as well. He walked around and hopped in beside me, turning the engine on and putting one hand on the wheel.

"Okay so the plan for tonight - get there, get drunk, then... Well that's all I've got."

The three of us laughed together.

"That's a smart and well thought out plan Woo." Yunho shook his head and turned on the radio to drown out the sound of his best friend.

"You do look really beautiful tonight Y/N. Sorry about my word vomit before. You kind of caught me off guard."

Getting shy is not my thing, but hearing him say it like that made me question if I, in fact, am bashful.

"Thank you. I must say, you look dashing as well. Black really is your colour." I winked and enjoyed his already flushed cheeks.

"Not to interrupt you lovebirds over there, but I think you missed a turn."

"Shoot."

After some driving around, we finally got to the place. I must say, college kids nowadays go all out on these things. The house was lit up and there was music blasting to the max. I could see couples making out along the walls, underaged teens sneaking their way in, and oh is that a beer keg thing? Boy, I'm too old for this.

"Come on people, let's party!" Wooyoung was out of the door before the engine was off.

"Is he always this energetic?" I turn to Yunho as I point in the direction his friend went in.

"Always. I think he was born a nuisance and stayed like that. You know, for once I'm glad he's like that. He hasn't been himself lately, and seeing him so enthusiastic gives me hope."

I smiled at the poor boy, feeling sorry he had no clue about the truth. In the end, this is why I'm supposed to be here. I need to keep an eye out for Wooyoung.

"Well then let's join him. You only live once, after all."

He smiled and we went up the steps leading to the grand entrance. It was packed with half-naked, grinding bodies. One of those bodies belonging to a person I hoped to never see again in my immortal life. He was still the same as 50 years ago. It didn't help that he noticed me, too. With a grin in his face,he made his was through the crowd and in front of me.

"Y/N Y/L. What a pleasure to see a familiar face."

"Seonghwa."

His black hair was longer now, bound by a hair tie. But his expression was the same as I remember. Same smug smile, droopy eyes and red painted lips.

Yunho stood confused for a second, noticing my trance. His hand took mine and if he hadn't squeezed me, I would still be as still as stone.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Seonghwa's eyes went to our hands and he smirked.

"My, my... You with a human? I must say, you surprise me Y/N."

Yunho for even more confused.

"Do you know this guy? What is he talking about?"

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it. Can you go get us some drinks? I promise I'm okay. Seonghwa's an... old friend of mine. Haven't seen him in ages."

"You're sure?" He squeezed my hand and I finally looked up at him.

"Yeah... Yes. Go buddy boy, I'll be right behind you."

He nodded, and with one last glance at Seonghwa, he was gone.

"So Y/N, baby. What is this about?"

My hard gaze caught his mischievous one.

"Do not call me that. You lost that privilege when you abandoned me to chase your own ambitions of becoming vampire royalty. And what the hell are you doing here anyways?"

He frowned for a second before putting himself together again.

"Hongjoong is a good friend of mine. I turned him a year ago when some freak stabbed him in an alley. Since then we've become like family. He has a hard time adjusting to vampire life, so I'm here to help."

He looked into my eyes.

"I know you are here on babysitting duty. That Wooyoung guy was collateral damage on one of Hongjoong's feedings gone wrong."

My eyes widened.

"You turned him? Is this what you do now? Turning innocent people for fun?"

Seonghwa's gaze hardened.

"You know I hate doing that more than anything. You know that best. I had to help them, I couldn't leave them be."

I was about to say something nasty to him when Yunho cađe back with two cups. He handed one to me.

"I didn't know if you liked alcohol so I got us some punch. Which is heavily infused with alcohol, a mistake I noticed right now actually."

He scratched at his head and gave me one of those bashful smiles again.

"Thank you, Yunho. I love punch...- " "Actually, she prefers red wine over anything else, but I suppose this will do. Enjoy yourselves kids. Glad seeing you again Y/N, you're as beautiful as I remember."

He out his cup in the air as a greeting and he was gone before I could blink.

"Wow, he's an asshole."

My eyes widened at the insult coming out of his mouth. How didn't I notice before...

"Yunho, did you have some punch before you came back?"

He nodded, a bit sloppy.

"Yeah, well... My nerves got the best of me so I chuged two cups. Did I mention I was a lightweight? No, probably not. Did I also mention that you look like an angel tonight? A red, hot, angel."

His bloodshot eyes reminded me this wouldn't be a conversation we'd be having if it weren't for the punch. But hey, a girl's gotta work with something.

"A red, hot angel? Can't say I've heard that before. Come on buddy boy, we need to find your pretty friend before he does something stupid."

"Hey how come you call him pretty? All I get is buddy." His little drunk pout was irresistible.

"Don't you worry. Wooyoung has got nothing on your handsome face. Don't get me started about your body." I winked and took his hand to lead him through the house. When I turned around all I could see was a goofy, but satisfied smile.

Not long after we found the troublemaker drinking from a vodka bottle, perched on top of the counter. He smiled widely when he noticed us.

"Well hey there lovebirds. How's it going? I drank my bodyweight in liqour but I can't feel a thing. Crazy, right? I suppose this is what comes with being..."

I put my hand over his mouth before he could finish the sentence.

"Hey Wooyoung, why don't we all head out for a bit. Since I know alcohol can lower your tolerance for different... Things."

He nodded and hopped down to his feet. My 'loverboy' was fast on our trail, although a bit pouty I let him go.

Once we stepped outside, the music wasn't so loud on mine and Wooyoung's poor ears. Yunho was in the background singing along happily. At least someone could enjoy it.

"I don't feel so good Y/N. I thought I could handle it, but I can't."

"You have to learn to fight it Woo. It won't be easy, but you have to resist. Remember that this is something you'll have to live with for eternity. It should be something you can control, not what controls you. You can do it, I know you..."

There was only one thing that could stop me mid sentence, even after a hundred years of practice.

Blood.

And by the smell of it, Yunho's.

"Aw man, I scraped my elbow on the wall. Clumsy me as always. Hey guys, you don't think I can die from this?"

Now, I've had my fair share of temptations, but I've got years of practice. I could see Wooyoung's eyes turning a crimson colour.

"Y/N. I want to bite him. I have to. The smell..."

"No, you don't. Listen to me Woo, you have to turn around and run. Please. You have to listen to me."

He shook his head and grabbed at his hair.

"No, no, no... I can't. Oh my God, I want to kill him."

I slapped him across the face.

"Listen to me you big baby. You think this is going to get any easier? It won't! You have to learn to control it. Ground it. Step on that desire. This is Yunho we are talking about. Sweet, funny, clumsy Yunho. Your best friend."

He closed his eyes and gulped. I could see the painful grip he had on himself.

"Y/N? Hey, is everything okay with Woo? I know I stumbled a bit, but I'm okay. Here I'll show you!"

"No, Yunho stay where..."

Everything happened in a second. Yunho took two steps forward and Wooyoung snapped.

He pushed past me at high speed and grabbed Yunho by the neck. I could see the shock sobering him up.

"Wooyoung! Let him go, now!"

"I can't Y/N. I can't! I have to eat!"

"No, please, Wooyoung! No!"

Before long, his fangs went into Yunho's neck. I pulled him off as quickly as I could and Yunho's body slumped to the floor.

"Let me go, please! I have to eat!" There were tears flowing down his face as he pleaded with me to let him go.

I could hear Yunho's shallow breaths as he laid on the ground. I couldn't let go of Wooyoung, but Yunho's situation wasn't any better. I was about to panic when Seonghwa appeared before me.

"Go save your boyfriend Y/N. I'll handle Wooyoung."

"He's not my... You know what, thank you. Please, be careful with him."

"I will, I promise."

I quickly ran toward the boy who got my cold heart beating and saw his face. He looked like he was asleep.

"Hey buddy boy, it's going to be okay. I'll make sure you're safe. Come on baby boy, you can do it."

I picked him up and leaned his weight on my side. Seonghwa and Wooyoung were long gone.

.

.

.

The night was hell. I took Yunho to my apartment and hooked him up to an IV I kept for when I accidentally fed on someone too much. He was laying in my room, covered with a blanket. He looked peaceful like this.

I couldn't help the guilt eating away at me. If I hadn't moved to this town, then Seonghwa wouldn't have tried to find me. It's always like that with us, but I think even he knows after last night, we are officially done.

I was too deep into my thoughts to notice Yunho's eyes opening.

"One hell of a party, was it?"

My head shot up to look into his eyes. He had a small smile on his face.

I sat beside him and put a hand on his cheek.

"Hey buddy boy, how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine. A bit tired and sore, but I know how I am when I drink. I didn't ruin anything for you, did I? I don't remember much after..."

He got quiet all of the sudden.

"After what Yunho?"

He swallowed.

"After Woo bit me."

The room grew cold in an instant.

"I saw you throwing him off of me. I also heard you talking about blood? It's all jumbled. Although I get it now. Your knowledge about the supernatural, it's beyond any book we've found."

I couldn't look him in the eyes. I was too scared, for the first time in my immortal life.

"I... Yunho... You are too smart for your own good."

He nodded.

"Yeah, I know that."

He saw my hands had gone back to my lap, so he reached over and grabbed them with his warm ones.

"I'm not mad at you, or Wooyoung. I get that you couldn't tell me. Doesn't mean I'm not butt-hurt about it. I am more upset that our night was ruined because I wanted to tell you something."

I locked eyes with him and instead of hatred, all I could see was...

"I like you Y/N. You and your brain, full of knowledge. Your strut in those heels. The way you smile, the way you smirk. Your big eyes, which apparently change colour. But most of all, I love that you helped me even with my awkward self almost crying of embarrassment."

"Oh, Yunho. You have no idea how much I've wanted to tell you the same thing. I like your smile, I like your big round, kind eyes. I love your clumsy nature. You've become someone very dear to me."

He squeezed both of my hands and sat up in the bed.

"Y/N. I'm going to kiss you now."

All I could do was nod.

His plump lips were on mine in a second. If our simple touch contained sparks, this kiss was full of fireworks. I couldn't stop myself from pulling him even closer by holding his face.

He seemed to have the same idea, and put me in his lap, arms circling around my waist.

We got a bit carried away, and the kisses soon turned desperate. Only when I heard him wince did I stop abruptly.

"Sorry baby, my neck hurts a bit more than I thought."

"Baby? Oh my... Sorry, yeah, we'll stop."

He smiled and kissed my forehead.

"I guess I'll have to get used to having a vampire girlfriend from now on."

Wait, what?

"Girlfriend?"

"Yeah, well, unless you don't want that?"

"Oh hell yeah I want that!"

He chuckled and pulled me closer, laying my head on his chest.

"Thank you Y/N. I can't wait to take you out on a real, not so bloody date."

I smiled into his chest.

"Yeah, me too."

.

.

.

One year later

"Woo, I swear to God, if you as much as drop one book I will snap your neck."

"Okay boss, I get it. Precious antiques and all."

"Don't make my girlfriend mad Woo, she's stronger than you."

"Yeah, yeah I get it."

He left to rearrange the new books he brought back with Seonghwa after their last trip. My ex has been helpful in training the newborn, because I have my hands full with another one.

"Baby, where do you keep your coffee cups with the lids?"

"Under the desk Yun, you know that."

He came up behind the desk with three cups and a bag of blood.

"Yeah, but you know me. This newborn brain gets me muddled."

He begged me to change him after our six-month anniversary. I had to think about it for a while, but I eventually accepted.

I can't imagine a lifetime without this giant, clumsy boy next to me.

And now, with his arms around my waist while we drink our daily dose of B positive, I don't have to.

"I love you, buddy boy."

"Love you too, my angel."

[staytheword]

a kiss at midnight

a kiss at midnight — one shot [ general masterlist ]

this series (and this blog) are 18+ !! minors, please do not interact!!

• changbin x female reader; felix, jisung and hyujin are also featured. (felix and jisung are sunshine twins and mc's cousins)

• non idol au, strangers to lovers. new years themed! a basic plot, just an excuse for some changbin smut. :) a lot of drinking, explicit language, explicit smut.

•  smut warnings (spoilers ahead) — dom!changbin, sub!mc, slight degrading, use of pet names (slut, baby), handjob, cockwarming, oral sex, deepthroating, throat fucking, unprotected sex, public sex, agrexophilia.

• word count: 8.5k

Your cousins, Felix and Jisung, organized a big party for New Year's Eve. There, you meet someone new, and the attraction is instantaneous. You planned on drinking, eating, and dancing all night — it now looks like you'll be flirting, too.

• author’s note: I wanted to post this yesterday, but... there was a power outage and I couldn't :( I guess it's still relevant today, though, right? There is not much plot in this, I'm sorry! It was just for fun, to laugh, to enjoy some Bin. I hope you will like it ♡ Happy New Year everyone!!

The automated voice of your GPS announces you’ve reached your destination. You step on the breaks and frown at the screen of your phone, attached to the dashboard. No, this can’t be it. You’re at a cul de sac. There is no house here. No other cars. Just trees and snow and an empty road. This can’t be your destination. 

“Fuck’s sake, fuck me,” you hiss between your teeth. 

You try to enter the address you’ve been given away, but it gives no new results. Apparently you are there. Did Jisung give you the wrong address? You wouldn’t put it past him. You sigh deeply, rubbing your temples. What are you supposed to do now? The roads are a little icy, it’s getting dark, and you have no desire to drive around in the middle of nowhere trying to find this mysterious house. 

You take your phone from the holder and call your cousin. After a few rings, a familiar voice answers - it’s not Jisung, but Felix. Nothing out of the ordinary. 

“Hey, where are you?” 

“In the middle of fucking nowhere!” you cry out. “Are you sure Ji gave me the right address?” 

“Didn’t he tell you?”

“Tell me what?” 

“The GPS will only take you so far. He didn’t say anything about turning right and following the side road?”

You sigh deeply, pushing two fingers against your upper nose. In your ear, Felix lets out a chuckle. 

“I guess he didn’t,” he says. “Ok, listen.” 

He gives you a few more directions, which you try your best to remember, and you tell him you’ll be there in a few minutes - and if you’re not, that he calls you back because you’ve probably gotten lost in the woods. 

You put down your phone and accelerate slowly, making your way through the woods. The side road is mostly clear of snow, luckily, and when you spot a lighted house in between the trees, you sigh in relief. A few cars are parked there, and you can hear faint music coming from inside. 

Once you’re parked, you grab your bags from the trunk and make your way to the front door. The place is bigger than you imagined, looking modern and expensive. It’s apparently the home of a friend of Felix’s who is away on vacation for the winter and agreed that Lix hosted his party there. The whole thing had been Jisung’s idea, who wanted to make this New Year particularly memorable after a difficult year. He wanted all his friends in one place, and of course Felix had to make it dramatic and host a party of more than twenty people in a house that isn’t even his. 

Jisung and Felix, your cousins, are also twins. You grew up together. Your mother raised you on her own, had to work a lot, and so she ended up entrusting her sister to watch over you. This resulted in you spending way too much time with your cousins, the incarnations of chaos. 

A few seconds after you knock the door opens on Jisung, and he opens his arms wide for a hug but instead you gently slap the back of his head. 

“Oi, what the hell?!” he whines. 

“Forgot to tell me about the side road,” you say, still pulling him into an affectionate hug. 

“Oh, right… Sorry about that,” he chuckles. 

“I nearly got lost in the woods,” you cry out dramatically. “I could’ve frozen to death. I could’ve been eaten by a bear.”

As Jisung continues to apologize, you keep doubling down on the worst possible scenarios that could have happened. It’s certainly one aspect of your character that developed by hanging out with Jisung and Felix - a flair for the dramatic. 

A few people have already arrived for the party. Some of them you know, some you don’t - Jisung makes sure to introduce you and tells you where to put your bags. The house is big, but not that big, and all of you will have to share the different rooms with a few others. You don’t mind, it’s just for one night, and you’ve had enough sleepovers with your cousins to be comfortable sleeping in the same room as them. That’s if all of you even make it to the rooms - you can already bet people will be falling asleep all over the house in the early hours of the morning. 

You meet Felix in the kitchen, giving him a tight hug, admiring the blue highlights he’s had made in his dark hair, and start to help him get some food ready. 

On the speakers is a dynamic playlist, and you hum to the music, cutting pieces of smoked salmon to make rolls. Felix dances with you, his booming laugh filling your chest with warmth. 

A few more guests come in, a few passing in the kitchen, which you welcome with broad grins. As you are putting colorful cupcakes on a platter, the door opens and a familiar voice reaches your ears. You’d recognize that shrill laugh anywhere. You glare at Felix, who is carefully avoiding your gaze.

“You invited Daki?!” you hiss, squinting your eyes. 

Felix pinches his lips, trying to hold off laughter. “She invited herself, you know how she is. Besides she’s also our cousin, it would’ve been awkward to say no.”

“She’s not my cousin. You’re just too nice,” you groan. “I’m not going to be.” 

“Don’t be petty.” 

“Felix, she’s been mad at me ever since Hyunjin chose me to be a part of his team for that board game. And we were eight years old. I’m not petty, she is.” 

You exchange a knowing look, Felix letting out a sigh. 

“Speaking of Hyunjin, is he coming?” you ask. 

“Yes, but later,” Felix tells you. “After he gets off work.” 

“Fashionably late, as always.” 

Hyunjin was your cousin’s neighbor when you were young, and he ended up spending a lot of time with you. So did Daki, for that matter. She was Jisung and Felix’s cousin from their father’s side, and your nemesis since that fateful board game many years ago. She had a crush on Hyunjin at the time - well, she still does - and when he had chosen you to be his partner instead of hers, she had looked at you like it was your fault. You still remember her telling you, some time later, that you did it to steal him away from her. 

You had laughed because you had never been interested in Hyunjin that way, and somehow that made it worse. Ever since, everytime you met, Daki made it her job to provoke you, flirting with your boyfriends, making sure to eliminate you from games, that kind of thing. At first you fought back, but you had gotten tired. At this point, you just found it ridiculous. 

When she comes into the kitchen to put the drinks she brought in the fridge, she is closely followed by Jisung who is already giggling. When he sees your face he bursts out laughing, running away as you slowly turn the knife in your hands. 

“Hi Daki!” you say, giving her your fakest smile.

She gives you a similar one. “Y/N, it’s been so long!” 

Fortunately she does not acknowledge you more than that and you turn away, grimacing, leaving Felix to take care of her. Instead you chase your other cousin down to give him another slap behind the head, and you steal his beer for good measure. You’re not going to let this ruin your evening. 

Jisung throws an arm around your shoulder, his grin taking half of his face. You sit down on the stairs, sipping his beer, looking around, while Jisung answers a message on his phone. People are spread around the room - a few are chatting around the fireplace, others are already busy playing a card game. On the couch next to the fireplace, a bit further away, is a gorgeous looking girl with long chestnut hair, Yuna, who your cousin has a crush on, talking with a guy with wide shoulders. You don’t know either of them, but you find yourself staring at the guy in question. 

Dark hair, almost black, unevenly brushes his forehead. Glistening eyes of deep brown, plump lips in the shape of a heart that are slightly pouted. He wears silver jewelry, a simple chain around his neck, two small hoops on his ear, a bracelet that moves as he explains something. On his shoulders, a fitted beige sweater that hints at an impressively muscled chest, tucked at the waist in a pair of black pants. You eye him up and down, all the way to his elegant leather shoes. 

His sleeves are rolled up a little, his smirk leans on the left side of his face, and from where you sit you can hear the hints of a rough, loud voice.

You slap Jisung’s shoulder, getting his attention. 

“Who is that?” you ask him, nodding towards the stranger. 

Jisung follows your gaze. “Oh, you haven’t met Changbin?” 

Changbin. That’s his name. It suits him.

You glare at Jisung. “No, but I want to.” 

Your cousin lets out an amused laugh. “We work together. He’s the one that came up with the concept I told you about?” 

“Really?” you say, unable to hide the interest in your voice. 

“Keep your panties on, please. But don’t worry, your favorite cousin will introduce you. It’ll give me an excuse to flirt with Yuna.” 

You roll your eyes at the “favorite cousin” appellation - he and Felix have been at it since you were old enough to understand the concept - but give him a thankful nod. You follow Jisung, who taps Changbin’s shoulder when you get close enough. Both him and Yuna look up. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Jisung says cheerfully. “Bin, I wanted to introduce you to Y/N, my cousin.” 

Changbin glances at you with a smile, turning on the couch to get a better look at you. You wave at him with your most charming smile. It wouldn’t be much of a party if you didn’t get to flirt a little, right? 

“Oh, the infamous cousin,” Changbin chuckles. “I actually heard a lot about you. But then again, Ji talks a lot.” 

You laugh, ignoring Jisung’s complaints beside you. “It’s nice to meet you. I actually heard about you, too. I love that city lights concept you came up with.” 

Changbin’s face lights up, and you feel your heart flutter a little. You can’t help it - he’s incredibly charming, his smile even more. Jisung clears his throat next to you as you stare at Changbin, and him at you. 

“Hey, Yuna, want to get a drink?” 

The latter chuckles, nodding at Jisung. “Let’s go.” 

They walk away, and you point to the spot on the couch next to Changbin. “Can I sit down?” 

“Please,” he says. 

You sit, unable to stop looking at him. Of course Jisung would not have mentioned how hot his colleague was to you, but he is exactly your type and your cousin knows that. He’ll have to get another slap behind the head for that. 

“So you grew up with Ji, huh?” Changbin asks, leaning back on the couch. 

You nod. “Yup, him and Felix. My mom worked a lot, so my aunt watched over me.” 

“That must’ve been… exhausting,” Changbin chuckles. 

“I’m not that much better than them, to be honest,” you laugh. “Sometimes I might even be worse.” 

Amusement flashes in Changbin’s eyes. “I’m sensing good stories here.” 

You smile, unabashedly flirting. “You want one?” 

“Please.” 

So you tell him about the time the three built a fort when you were about ten and you had designated yourself main architect. You had made them build the whole thing, and then had pretended to throw a fit and destroyed everything. You played the same game two more times until you were “satisfied,” leaving your cousins frustrated and exhausted. 

Changbin listens attentively to you throughout, laughing, and you quickly grow fond of the sound. It’s playful, makes you laugh even more, and you get so immersed in your conversation you almost forget about the rest of the party. 

You notice a little scar on his chin. A beauty mark on his right ear. 

You talk for a while, sitting close to each other, when Felix appears from the kitchen and asks for your help. You apologize to Changbin, who tells you to go. 

“We’ll talk later,” he tells you with a wink. 

When you head to the kitchen, your legs feel a little wobbly. You’ve been smiling so much your cheeks hurt a little. 

You help Felix bring the food to the big table, which is set like a buffet. When you catch a glance of Changbin staring at you, you almost drop all the plates in your hands, because he is looking up and down at your body almost hungrily. If you were the type to blush, you would be scarlet right now. 

But you’re not. Instead, you have to refrain yourself from just walking over to him, dragging him over to the nearest room and making out until you can’t breathe. Your thoughts derail as you walk back to the kitchen. 

It’s been forever since you’ve felt such an instant attraction with someone. It has happened before, with one of your exes, a colleague at work. But like this? You aren’t sure but it might have never been this strong. All you want is to look back at him. See that lust in his eyes again. Know everything about him. You feel like you could run away to the other side of the world in this instant, take the biggest risks, a leap into the unknown, and he’d be holding your hand, laughing with you.  

What if you did drag him to a private spot? What would he say? Would he kiss you back, slide his fingers under your blouse? You would feel his muscles against your hands, bite into his full lips, push him inside you…

“You all right, cuz?” 

You look at Felix, who is frowning. 

“You looked really out of it just now,” he says. 

You bite your lip. “I’m fine, don’t worry,” you answer, although you can’t stay impassive.  

Felix’s mouth breaks into a grin.

“What were you thinking about, huh?” he giggles. “Or rather, who were you thinking about?” 

You nudge him, smirking to yourself. 

“Leave my dirty thoughts alone,” you tell him. 

He gasps. “So there IS someone… Tell me, tell me, please.” 

“No way,” you laugh. “If I tell you, next time you talk to him you won’t be able to stop giggling. I love you, Lix, but you’re the worst at keeping secrets.” 

He pouts, gathering forks to put on the table. 

“If you tell me your secret, I’ll tell you mine.” 

“What?!” you say. “You have a secret?” 

“I do.” 

“What is it?” 

“Only if you tell me who you were thinking of.” 

You squint your eyes, trying to decide if your cousin is making all of this up just to get the name out of you. It just isn’t Felix’s style, but you never know. As you’re trying to make up your mind, Jisung appears, sliding in the space between you.   

“What are we whispering about?” 

“Y/N was just going to tell me who she’s daydreaming fucking the brains out of,” Felix says with a sleazy smile. 

“Oh, Changbin?” Jisung says. 

You give him a furious look as Felix bursts out laughing. “JI, FUCK’S SAKE…” 

“Oops,” Jisung chuckles, putting a hand over his mouth. 

You slap his arm repeatedly, pouting. “Now I’ll never know Felix’s secret.” 

“What secret? That he hooked up with theatre guy?” 

“JISUNG,” Felix yells. 

It’s your turn to laugh hysterically, shaking your head. Eventually the three of you are snickering like you’re twelve again and looking up porn on the internet - you just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. 

“Never mind what I said, Lix,” you say, wiping tears from your eyes. “Ji is definitely the worst at keeping secrets.”

You’re eating too much, you’re drinking too much, you’re laughing too much - but is there such a thing as too much when it comes to those? It’s what parties are all about to you, anyway. 

Another thing you’re doing too much is flirting. You’ve always enjoyed it and clearly, so does Changbin, because like other things, you indulge in it a little too much.

There’s really no other way to say it - Changbin and you have been eyefucking each other since you met. Sitting beside one another, or being on opposite sides of the room, it seems like your eyes have constantly drawn to the other’s. At one point you thought he would be the one to take your hand and drag you away from the crowd, but neither of you have made a move yet. There has been some hand brushing, a few suggestive looks, even a seductive eyebrow raise or two. You gather that both of you are enjoying the tension that is rising, the what if that is surely turning into a when, waiting for the right opportunity. 

That has made an already wonderful evening even better. The food is delicious, the booze is plentiful, and Daki has barely bothered you so far, too busy glancing at the door, clearly waiting for Hyunjin to show up. She’s made you a few snarky comments but you can’t be bothered by them when Changbin stretches his arms, flexing his biceps a little, his shirt embracing his pectoral muscles. You’d rather focus on that.

Music is playing loudly, people are getting decidedly drunk, midnight is approaching, and you agree to play a game of poker with your cousins, Yuna, Changbin and a few others. Daki joins you seconds before the game starts, sitting next to Changbin. You can guess she’s noticed you and him flirting, and that she will try and get his attention to annoy you. Too predictable, Daki. She’s probably bored because Hyunjin isn’t here yet and she can’t annoy him. 

You are right, of course. You haven’t been playing for two minutes and she’s already whispering things in Changbin’s ear. However, the latter isn’t responding to her at all - he even shoots her annoyed glances, which makes you snicker. You try to focus on your own game, but it’s too entertaining to see Changbin repeatedly shooting down her attempts to flirt. When she giggles hysterically, leaning against him, Changbin directly takes her hand and puts it away from him, giving her a look that clearly says leave me alone. 

You bite your lip so hard it almost bleeds, trying not to burst out laughing. You’re not petty, but this is almost better than sex.

As you end the first round, Daki finally seems to give up on Changbin. You hope she will just go away, but of course she stays for another round and changes her target - you. 

When you make a raise, she laughs mockingly. 

“I think Y/N has good cards, guys,” she says. “Look at her face, it’s just so obvious.” 

You ignore her, keeping a straight face, but of course that only makes her laugh harder, and she points at you. 

“Aw, look, she’s trying to bluff. That’s cute, Y/N, really.” 

You keep ignoring her - her words aren’t getting to you. You notice that Changbin, however, is getting angry. He scrunches his nose, tilting his head to the side, as if he’s trying to stop himself from telling her to shut up. You try to smile at him to reassure him, but he’s too busy damning her to hell with his eyes. 

As if he wasn’t already so damn attractive. 

Daki continues taunting you, inciting the others to ruin your game, but except for those who don’t know you, none of them are having it. The atmosphere is tense. You will thank them later - for the moment, you focus on playing, because you have a plan and it is working perfectly. 

It ends up between you and Daki, of course, as you planned. You stare at her as she reveals her cards. A flush. 

“Not bad,” you say. 

“I’m so good at poker, Y/N, don’t worry!” she laughs.

“Yeah, like, I don’t know,” you say, putting on a fake confused expression as you put down your cards. “Isn’t this better?” 

Everyone looks at your cards. You have a flush, too - except it’s a straight one. The tension evaporates as the table erupts in screams and applause, and you finally break into a grin. Felix and Jisung jump on you, making you fall backwards, while Yuna gets a bottle of whisky to pour a few shots. You just get a glimpse at Daki’s defeated face, not giving her your attention. Instead you focus on Changbin’s shining eyes and amused smirk. 

You raise your shot glass to him. 

Hyunjin arrives not long after, holding the hand of his new girlfriend. She has red hair and the most beautiful smile. As you hug your old friend, you take a look at Daki, who looks like she’s just been slapped. Karma’s a bitch, huh?

You can’t help but snicker. That might be a little petty, but you’ve been drinking and you don’t care. Daki’s hurt your feelings more times than you can count in the past, and you feel like her having a shitty evening barely grazes the idea of payback. Unluckily, she catches you laughing and heads towards you, fists clenched, eyes full of rage. 

“What are you laughing at, you fucking bitch?” she spits at you.

You raise your hands. “Woah, calm down, will you?” 

“You think I’m pathetic?” she chuckles mockingly. “Have you seen yourself acting like a fucking slut all night? You think that guy’s going to be interested in you? You’re just a skank and everybody knows -” 

“What the fuck’s your problem?” 

You and Daki turn your heads towards Changbin, who has appeared next to you. His jaw is clenched, and he’s looking down at Daki with disgust. 

Daki scoffs. “This is none of your -” 

“Leave her alone,” Changbin interrupts in a dry voice. 

“I’m not going to -”

“Fuck off.” 

His voice is so commanding that Daki pales a little. She straightens her back, shoots you a last malicious look and walks away. You breathe out, shaking your head. 

“Fuck,” you sigh. “I thought she was going to hit me for a second there.” 

Changbin shakes his head, giving Daki a dirty look. 

“You guys have history or something?” 

“Yeah,” you sigh. “A long one.” 

He gives you a nod, sensing you do not want to talk about it too much. Instead you smile at him, sliding a hand through your hair. 

“Thanks for the intervention. I appreciate it. I’m too drunk to be the bigger person, so it would have ended badly.” 

He smirks, leaning towards you. You get a whiff of his cologne and it makes you a little dizzy. Fuck, he smells good. 

“I have an idea,” he breathes in your ear. 

You frown, giving him a questioning look. He raises an eyebrow. 

“On how you can pay me back.” 

The words send your thoughts reeling. Oh, fuck. Is he finally going to do it? Take your hand and lead you to an empty room to ruin you? You hope so. You so desperately hope so. 

Are you a little too horny? 

“Yeah?” you ask, your voice a little weak. 

“Follow me.” 

He takes your hand and guides you through the room. Your heart is pounding, your eyes fixed on the back of his neck. Is this happening? It’s going too fast and not nearly fast enough. Your mouth is dry, your legs weak, and -

Changbin goes to the kitchen. You frown when he stops at the counter, looking at the numerous bottles of strong alcohol that are stored there, carefully choosing one. You’re confused - but clearly, you misread his intentions. 

He shows you the bottle of tequila rose, and you chuckle. 

“You want me to take a shot?” you suggest. 

He grins. “Jisung came to work one morning with the worst hangover I’d ever seen. Said it was the fault of homemade shots with tequila rose in them. Made by you. I don’t know why, it stuck in my head, and I’d like to try one.” 

“Oh,” you laugh. “You mean the Hot Lips.” 

You don’t miss Changbin glancing at your mouth, looking perfectly satisfied with the turn of events. “Is that what they are called?” 

“It is,” you answer, taking the bottle from his hands. “Give me that. You’re not ready for this. Your liver will hate you tomorrow.”

“Can’t wait.” 

You get busy gathering the ingredients while Changbin gets the shot glasses, and you talk about that infamous night with your cousins. You, Felix and Jisung had gotten so ridiculously drunk on your shots you had gone outside in the freezing winter to build a snowman at three in the morning wearing no shoes. You were horribly sick for nearly a week after that. 

Changbin stays close to you as you pour the right ounces of the ingredients. Tequila rose. Grenadine. Soda. A little vodka. A little whisky. And a little surprise of your own. 

“Just a little bit of lemon to soften the sweetness,” you whisper to Changbin, giving him a wink. “Don’t tell anyone.” 

He’s standing so close to you you can feel his breathing in your hair. 

“I wouldn’t dare.” 

You turn to face him, keeping your eyes in his. You hand him his shot, filled to the brim, and take yours. 

“See you on the other side,” you tell him. 

You cheer and take the shot. The taste is almost overwhelming in your throat, and you let out a sharp woo. Glancing at Changbin, you realize he’s closed his eyes. He shakes his head and groans. 

“Damn, fuck, that is strong,” he laughs. 

You bite your lip, trying not to laugh too much, but his eyes are glimmering with mischief. He puts down the shot glass, licking his lips slowly. His eyes find yours again, and he takes another step towards you. You’re just drunk enough for your inhibitions to have disappeared. Changbin smells good. Changbin looks good. 

“Delicious, though,” he states, staring at you intently. “Just the right amount of sweet. Just the right amount of rough.”

You swallow, mouth parted. You’re not even sure what he is talking about, at this point.

“I can see why it’s addictive,” he smirks. “Can I have another?” 

“As many as you want, baby.” 

The nickname escapes your lips but he doesn’t seem to mind it. On the contrary, his smirk deepens and you feel the warmth pooling between your legs. You must already be soaked at this point. Fuck, there’s no one in the room. What if I sucked his dick in the kitchen? Would he like that? 

You chuckle to yourself, and Changbin looks at you questioningly. 

“I was just thinking about sucking your dick,” you say. 

Changbin remains silent, and you realize that you’ve actually said this. Out loud. 

You gasp, your eyes wide. You stammer. “Holy fuck, I’m sorry. Shit, I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that, it just -” 

“Why don’t you?” he interrupts, his voice low and husky, placing his fingers underneath your chin to lift your head. You meet his gaze, dark and lustful. “I wouldn’t mind you sucking my dick right now. I bet you’d look even more sweet with your mouth full.” 

You gulp, feeling your walls clench at the sound of his words. Fuck, you need this man to ruin you right now. You’re dizzy with arousal, and he gently takes your hand, guides it on his crotch. He places your palm around his hardening cock, and you can’t hold back a whimper. 

“You’re not going to leave me with this unattended, are you, baby?” 

Instinctively, your hand squeezes his cock, and you smile. 

“I wouldn’t dare.” 

Outside the kitchen you hear people bursting into laughter. The risk of someone walking in is so dangerously high it makes you dizzy, but you’re a little too drunk to care. And honestly, it makes the whole situation even better. 

Keeping your eyes in his, you unzip his pants, taking out his cock. It’s decidedly hard now, which makes you very happy. You kneel on the cold floor, looking up at Changbin. Slowly, keeping your eyes in his, you lick the length of his cock, smearing your saliva on it so you can lazily stroke it. He pushes the hair out of your face, biting his lower lip. 

“You look fucking good like that, Y/N,” he growls. “I fucking love that dress, by the way. Made me want to snuggle my dick between your tits all night.” 

You chuckle, kissing the tip of his cock. “Who knows, if you’re nice to me, your dream might come true.” 

“Nice?” he laughs. “I’m not sure I know how to do nice. But I can certainly fuck your brains out.”

“Sounds nice enough to me.” 

You guide his cock in your mouth, slowly taking it as deep as you can. Changbin breathes out, holding your hair. You start to bob your head up and down his length, swirling your tongue at the same time. 

“Good, that’s good,” he whispers. “Fucking good.” 

Encouraged by his praise, you accelerate your movements, and Changbin thrusts his hips sharply. Surprised, you gag a little, taking a deep breath. 

“Hm,” he chuckles. “Let’s try it again, huh? I know you can do better.” 

It’s like he knows exactly what to tell you - you can do better, and you want to prove it to him. So you take him in your mouth again, taking your hand off his base, and make sure you almost reach his pelvis. Changbin breathes a guttural growl, pushing your head against the kitchen island, trapping you there. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes.” 

He fucks your mouth and you feel your eyes tear up, but you adore the sounds he makes, the way his face scrunches as he throbs in your mouth. When he pulls back after a few seconds to let you breathe, you give him a broad smile. 

“This is so fucking hot,” you chuckle. 

Changbin smiles, grazing your cheek with his thumb. “You like this, Y/N?” You like the way he says your name, like he’s still learning it, tasting it on his tongue. “Well, maybe you are a slut, huh?” 

“For you, definitely,” you tell him. 

“That’s the attitude,” he grins. “Keep sucking, my little slut.” 

You go back to it. As you moan around his length, the kitchen door opens, and Changbin quickly pulls himself out of your mouth. Luckily, from where you are behind the kitchen island, you are not visible from the entrance of the kitchen, and the island is high enough to prevent the person from seeing what is exactly happening. 

“Oh, Changbin,” the person says, and you realize it’s Felix.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“Have you seen Y/N?” your cousin asks, his voice slurry. “It’s going to be midnight soon, and we always celebrate together, and…” 

He rambles on, clearly drunker than you. That might help prevent him from suspecting anything, you tell yourself. Still, you bite your lip hard, trying not to move or breathe too loud. 

“I haven’t, sorry,” Changbin says. “Just fixing myself a drink. Maybe she went to get some air outside?” 

Felix gasps. “Oh, right. Good idea.” 

For a second you think Felix might have gone, but Changbin remains immobile, and when you look up he’s giving your cousin a broad smile. 

“You need help with something?” Felix offers. 

“Nope,” Changbin quickly replies. “All good.” 

“Cool,” Felix says. “I’ll check outside, thanks, Changbin.”

You see him wave, and the kitchen door closes behind your cousin. You breathe out, and you look at each other for a second before starting to laugh. 

“Fuck, that would’ve been awkward,” you say. 

“He’s so drunk I bet he wouldn’t have noticed,” Changbin replies, stroking your hair. “You still good to go?” 

You smile. “Fuck, yeah.” 

“Oh, you like that, don’t you? The risk of being walked on. I can see it in your eyes.” 

You don’t deny it - instead, you take his cock and slap it against your tongue. Changbin throws his head backwards and guides himself back in your mouth. It fits back easily, and you secure your hands on his thighs. 

“How does my cock fit in your mouth so well?” he breathes. “My good little slut.”

You let him fuck your mouth, feeling his thrusts getting a little more restless, and from the way he grips your hair, you know he is close. 

“I’m gonna come,” he grunts. “Look at me, Y/N.” 

When your eyes flutter up to meet his, Changbin lets out a shaky breath. You hold his penetrative gaze as he buck his hips and empties himself in your mouth. He manages not to make too much noise, clenching his jaw, and when he relaxes, you take his cock in your hands and proceed to lick him clean. You trace his length, lick your lips, and he twitches a little, coming down from his orgasm. 

“Did my little slut swallow everything?” he asks hoarsely. 

You nod, showing him your tongue. He chuckles, putting his cock back in his pants. You look at his face, smiling, and he brings you up to your feet. 

“Let’s fix you up.” 

He proceeds to put your hair back in order, taking a napkin to wipe the corners of your mouth and the mascara that dripped down your cheeks a little. Meanwhile you just take the opportunity to look at him. When he’s done, he eyes you up and down, and you pout. 

“What about me?” 

“What about you, sweet thing?” 

“I want to come in your mouth, too.” 

Changbin smiles, and you take his hand to guide it under your dress. You open his palm so he cups your soaked underwear. The contact already makes you moan, and you roll your hips against his hand. 

“I’m so fucking wet, Changbin…” 

He parts his mouth at the same time the kitchen door opens again. You twirl around, Changbin’s hand escaping the throbbing space between your legs. It’s Felix again. 

“I didn’t find her, so I -” 

Your cousin stops, staring at you, blinking, visibly confused. 

“I found her,” Changbin smiles. 

You grin at your cousin, who finally breaks into a smile and walks up to you, oblivious, rambling about the fact that it’s almost midnight and you almost missed it. You can feel it - you’ve been lucky not to get caught during the blowjob, and you can’t push it. Your drenched, aching cunt will have to wait.

“THREE, TWO, ONE… HAPPY NEW YEAR!” 

As per tradition, you, Felix and Jisung grab each other’s shoulders and start to turn in a circle. It’s something you’ve created when you were kids. You call it your manifesting circle, invoking good energy for the rest of the year. It’s bullshit, but you couldn’t see yourself not doing it every New Year’s. 

Felix smooches you on the cheek, Jisung runs away to find Yuna, and you feel someone tapping your shoulder. You turn to find Changbin standing behind you, a smirk on his lips. He takes your chin in his hand and guides your head upwards, kissing you deeply. Felix yells happily in your ear, but you barely hear him, drunk on the booze, drunk on Changbin’s tongue playing with yours. You wrap your arms around his neck, making out with him for what seems like hours, until you’re out of breath, until you can barely stand straight. 

When you look at him afterwards, his eyes are shining, and his smile steals your heart. 

“Happy New Year,” he whispers. 

The only thing reminding you that what happened with Changbin is real is that your mouth and throat feel a little sore - but other than that, you might have thought it was some kind of vivid, waking dream. 

You want to keep talking to him, but Felix really wants to dance with you and you can never say no to him, so Changbin just decides to do it with the two of you. You giggle excitedly as he rolls his hips seductively, and you and Felix show him a choreography that you created when you were kids. Changbin laughs so hard he holds his sides.  

When the three of you get too tired, Felix joins a board game and Changbin sits down on the couch next to you, his arm around your shoulder, not caring in the slightest at what people might say. You snuggle against him as you talk to Hyunjin, who wanted to talk to you about Daki. She has gone home, apparently. You feel bad for her, but not really. It never brings any good to be mean with no reason, Hyunjin tells you. 

You and Changbin keep close to each other, exchanging knowing smiles. His hand is resting on your thigh, and your head is leaning on his shoulder. You’re a little impatient for more, but it’s also thrilling. You want to kiss him. You want to know how his tongue feels against yours. How he would use his lips on your pussy. How his cock would feel inside you. You want to hear him groan again. 

Although he’s softer outside of sex, you’re not surprised by his dominating personality, and you find yourself craving it. It’s not always a kink of yours, but with the right person, it can reduce you to a trembling mess, which is exactly what you want to become in Changbin’s arms. There’s just something about him. 

So you slowly and discreetly pull on your dress so it falls higher on your thighs. Changbin’s eyes drop on them, and he slides his hand higher. You repeat the same game two more times, stopping before it gets downright inappropriate. Eventually you can’t focus on anything else, so you stand up and say you’re going to the bathroom. 

You’re hoping Changbin gets the hint. You don’t care much anymore - everyone is either too drunk or busy to notice, and you’ve seen people disappearing for a while inside rooms. Why not you? It’s the new year, open to all opportunities, and you’re not going to waste this one. 

You walk up the stairs, glancing back at Changbin who is staring at you, biting his lip. You just smile back, and you walk very slowly upstairs. You’re almost there when you hear footsteps behind you, and you barely have time to twirl on your feet that Changbin grabs your wrist and pulls you inside the bathroom. He slams you against the door, his eyes drilling into yours. 

“I think you might be having an issue with your dress,” he smiles. 

“Do I?” you ask innocently. “Maybe you should help me with it.” 

He chuckles, spinning you around. Your palms rest against the door, your ass facing him. Changbin hikes up your dress slowly, revealing your panties. He groans and slaps your ass, kneading the skin.

“My little slut,” he breathes. “Already can’t get enough of me, huh?” 

“I can’t focus on anything,” you admit with a chuckle. “I need you, Changbin, please…” 

You breathe heavily as he brushes a finger against the fabric of your panties, over your clit and your entrance. You are soaked. 

“Fuck, please touch me…” 

He slaps your ass again, drawing a sharp breath from your mouth. 

“You want to show me your pretty pussy?” he breathes in your ear. 

“Yes.” 

“You want my fingers or my tongue?” 

“T-tongue.” 

He chuckles, taking a step back, and you glance above your shoulder to see him kneel behind you. He grins at you, pulling down your panties. 

“Arch that cute ass for me, will you?” 

You do, and he hums appreciatively, spreading your legs to get better access. He starts by coating your pussy with his fingers, licking your juices off them, and then his tongue flicks you. 

“Fuck,” you moan, twitching a little. 

“You taste so good, baby,” he sighs. “I’m going to make you come so hard your legs won’t be able to hold you up.” 

You breathe out, aching for more of his touch, and fortunately Changbin obliges. His mouth comes to rest against your throbbing cunt, and he starts to eat you out hungrily. His tongue swirls against you, presses against your clit, teases your entrance. Changbin holds your thighs apart, massaging your skin, and as you whimper and pant against his caresses, his thumb circles your folds. 

“Don’t fucking stop,” you cry out, feeling your orgasm building quickly. 

He doesn’t, only smiles against your pussy, and it’s the best feeling in the world. He kisses you, rolling his tongue on your wetness, and you only wish you could see him there, buried between your legs, his mouth and chin coated in you. 

You push your fingers against the door, biting your lip as your orgasm suddenly flashes through you. A cry escapes your mouth, your entire body shaking against Changbin who does not stop and even accelerates, guiding you through. When your muscles untense, you feel your legs give in, but Changbin quickly sits up to hold you up by the waist, pulling you to him with a chuckle. 

“What did I say, huh?” 

He groans in your ear, and you feel his hard cock against your ass. 

“I need to fuck that tight little cunt of yours. Just like it is now. Still throbbing, all drenched and ready for me.” 

“Do it, Changbin,” you nod, still hazy from your orgasm. “P-please.” 

He quickly undoes his belt and frees his cock, and brushes it against your still sensitive folds. You moan, Changbin breathing hard against your neck. 

“Ready, baby?” 

You nod, and he enters you slowly, leaving you time to adjust to him. He feels big and thick, but you’re so wet he slides in easily, not stopping until he is deep inside of you. Once he’s there, you both breathe out, chuckling in delight. 

“That’s where my cock belongs,” Changbin growls. “You good?” 

“Fuck, yes,” you sigh. 

You roll your ass against him, and Changbin takes it as an invitation to start moving. He draws his hips away from you only to thrust sharply, fucking you hard. Soon he’s pounding into you, and you’re moaning, and he’s holding your waist and burying himself inside of you like he’s going mad. 

Neither of you are going to last long, you can feel it. The teasing has been enough, and deep down you know this won’t be your last time fucking. 

“I want to fucking come inside of you,” he breathes. “Will you let me, little slut? Take my cum deep, keep it in you?” 

“Yes,” you breathe. “Give it to me. Fuck, I’m gonna come again.” 

He’s rubbing against the right spots and you’re rolling your eyes in your head. As your second orgasm flashes through you, you clench around Changbin and he lets out a low groan. You feel his cock twitch and then spurt inside of you, warm and heavy. 

He fucks you until you both ride out your orgasms, breathing heavily, his body laying against yours. Once your breathing steadies, Changbin removes himself from inside of you, and you feel his cum, mixed with your own, sliding down your inner thigh. 

You fall into his arms, letting out a long, shaky sigh. 

“Fuck… That was so good,” you breathe with a laugh. “You are so good at this, what the fuck?” 

“Right back at you,” he chuckles, pushing your hair away from your face before giving you a long kiss. “Let’s clean you up. We still have a party to attend.”

Felix is trying to explain a board game to you. He’s the worst at it. You really should just read the instruction manual, but you like hearing his voice, so you let him do it. Eventually, though, he just gives up. It’s way too late and you’re both too drunk to play such a complicated game, anyway. Instead Felix relaxes on the couch, and you lean against him. 

You talk about food, about family, about work - and then Felix catches you looking over at Changbin, who is clearly winning a game of beer pong not too far. 

“So, Changbin?” he asks, grinning. “Anything happened between you?” 

You smirk, and Felix breaks into giggles. 

“Tell me, tell me,” he begs. 

“A lady doesn’t tell,” you reply, poking his chest. 

Felix scoffs. “You, a lady? Please. I’m more of a lady than you.” 

“True,” you laugh. “Well… Yeah, something might’ve happened.” 

“Oh, that smile,” he says. “You really like him, huh?” 

You nod. 

Felix wiggles his eyebrows. “Why not go spend more time with him?” 

“Maybe later,” you smile. “For now I like spending time with my favorite cousin.” 

“Tssssk,” Felix chuckles. “I don’t believe you. You say that, but I know you tell Ji the same.” 

“Well Ji is clearly busy somewhere else, so it’s you I get to annoy.” 

You start to tickle him, and Felix gets distracted into another conversation topic, and you lose track of time, soothed by the sound of your cousin breathing, the music, the conversation around you. 

It feels like seconds later when you open your eyes, realizing you’ve been dozing off on Felix’s shoulder. Your cousin is deep asleep next to you, cuddling the plush mushroom he got from the gift exchange. He’s not the only one - a lot of people have gone to their rooms, the music is softer, and the place is a reassuring mess, with plates and glasses and pieces of wrapping paper everywhere.

Near the fireplace, Hyunjin is stroking his girlfriend’s hair, lovingly whispering things in her ear. You stand up on shaky legs, looking around for Changbin. He’s sitting in a corner with another guy, playing a quiet game of cards. You catch his gaze, and he smirks, waving at you to come. You drag your feet towards him, settling down on his leg. You nestle your head in the crook of his neck, and Changbin chuckles. 

You’re good there. You doze off a little again, and open your eyes when you hear Changbin’s friend say he’s going to sleep. You expect him to get up and walk upstairs, but instead he draws his hoodie on his head, leans against the wall and closes his eyes. You giggle, turning your face towards Changbin. 

“You want to go to bed?” he whispers. 

“Hm,” you nod. 

“Let’s go.” 

He takes your hand gently and you follow him upstairs. The first room is locked, another is already packed. The last one you find has two other people in it, so you head back downstairs and decide to nestle in an unoccupied corner of the living room. Changbin finds two blankets, laying one down on the floor, and another on your bodies. You snuggle against him, his arm enveloping you. You feel his breath in your neck. 

The living room is silent. All you can hear is the hushed whispers of Hyunjin and his girlfriend - but even those stop after a few minutes. The fire is nearly extinguished, the living room plunged in darkness. You feel warm and safe in Changbin’s arms - but you can’t bring yourself to sleep. All you can think about is how nice his body feels, how wet you are - and how you feel his cock hardening against your ass. 

“What are you thinking about?” you whisper. 

He lets out a breath. “Are you still wet?” 

His low voice in your ear makes you shiver. You nod. 

“Good,” he answers. 

His hand slips on your waist, feeling the fabric of your dress. You breathe out, closing your eyes to enjoy the sensation. His fingers go further up, cupping your breasts, teasing your nipples. You arch your back, pushing your ass against his crotch. Changbin starts to breathe heavily in your neck, sending strands of your hair dancing. 

You don’t even care that you’re in the middle of a room filled with people. You just want to feel him. Besides, nobody is paying attention to you. The room is dark, and you’re protected by the blanket. 

Changbin’s hand pushes up your dress, removes your panties. When his fingers finally find your still soaked cunt, you softly whimper. 

“Fuck, you’re so warm,” Changbin breathes. “Can you be a good girl and be silent, baby?” 

You nod again. 

“Just don’t stop touching me,” you tell him. 

He smiles against the back of your neck, planting a kiss there. You open your legs a little, facilitating his access. Changbin takes two fingers and pushes them on your swollen clit, tracing wide circles, exerting just the right amount of pressure. You shudder, biting your lip to keep from moaning aloud. 

But you keep breathing, holding it back to enjoy Changbin’s caresses. His fingers relieve the ache of your folds, and then he teases your entrance. When he plunges into you, caressing your inner walls, you have to grab his sweater behind you, anything to keep yourself from moaning his name. He starts to finger you, relentlessly. It feels so fucking good. 

“Is that good, Y/N? Do you love my fingers deep inside your cunt?” 

“Yes, Changbin, fuck…” 

“I can’t wait to replace them with my cock.”

You clench around his fingers, and he must feel it, because he chuckles. 

“Do you want that, huh? Do you want me to fuck you in the middle of a crowded room?” 

“I want you to fuck me, Changbin, please… Fuck, I’m gonna come -” 

He removes his fingers in a sweep, leaving you gasping. Changbin pushes a hand against your mouth, muffling the sound. 

“Can’t have you waking everyone up, baby,” he whispers in your ear. 

You feel him pull down his pants, the tip of his cock brushing your cunt, and you breathe against his fingers. He holds them there, pushing himself inside of you, stretching you. He feels big, he feels good, already familiar - and you fall back against his body. His chest feels firm, his arms big and strong. Although there’s not much space for maneuver under the blanket, Changbin still manages to buck his hips, filling you deep. His thrusts are slow and powerful, making your body shake, and the rest of the world becomes a blur. 

“Shhhh,” he breathes in your ear. “Do you want them to know I’m fucking you?” 

You can’t help but whimper a little against his palm as he fucks you deeper, slamming his hips into you, and then you’re coming, writhing in his arms. Changbin growls in your ear, fucking you even faster, and then you feel him come inside of you. You are still trembling, slowly coming down your high, and Changbin removes his hand. 

He sighs, and you let out a chuckle, turning to face him. 

“Do you think anybody noticed?” you whisper, and he smiles. 

“I don’t really care.” 

You smile back, rubbing your nose on his jaw, his neck. Your eyes are heavy, and you feel yourself drifting off. 

“Y/N?” he asks in your ear. 

“Hm?” 

“Will you go on a date with me next week?” 

You open your eyes just enough to see him look at you. You kiss him, gently, and put your hand against his chest. 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

• permanent taglist: @ughbehavior ; @upallnight-s ; @changbinluvr ; @rosexjimin ; @nasiaisan ; @lotus-dly ; @cb97percent ; @j-0ne25 ; @hwan-g ; @jhopesucker ; @tanyas97 ; @raspbinniecreme ; @septicrebel ; @imtoooyoungforthisshit ; @sikebishes ; @sai-kida134 ; @sstarryoong ❤️ (let me know if you want to be added/removed)

[citrus-moonlight]

Salvation is a Deep Dark Well

Chapter 2: Raise Your Chin and Howl

[ Masterlist - Part Two ] -> [ Masterlist - Part One ]

Fandom: MCU - Age of Ultron, Black Panther Pairing: Ulysses Klaue x F! Reader Word count: 9.7K Chapters: 2/6 Rating: Explicit

Summary: The actions of others leads to chaos at the compound, and after Klaue returns to deal with the aftermath you're surprised to learn that his reasons for being upset aren't what you think, and you finally have to admit some things that you've been denying.

Warnings: Explicit!, Mild Age Difference, Reader is Late 30s, Use of Pet Names, Injury, Workplace Injury, Mention of Blood, Reference to Guns, Insecurity (Reader is an Idiot), Light Angst, Smut, Dirty Talk, Teasing, Reference to Masturbation (M), Finger Sucking, Spit Kink, Oral Sex (M receiving), Brief Rough Oral, Cock Worship, Messy Blowjob, Mouth Fucking, Cum Swallowing, Hair Holding/Pulling, Guided Masturbation (F), Mild Size Kink, Soft Dom, Teasing, Praise Kink, Porn With Plot, More Accidental Feelings Oh No

AN: Welcome back, friends! It's been quite a while since I updated this one, but I'm excited to finally bring you so more of these two! it wasn't so much that this one got away from me, but what I wanted (and needed) to do with it was getting more involved, and ultimately I'm happy with how this ended up turning out. Especially since I also accidentally wrote a holiday "interlude" story that comes after this but before what was supposed to be the next chapter (which is now chapter four), which was simultaneously challenging and helpful in finding the right balance in this part as things progress.

As always, thank you for reading and to everyone who has commented or reblogged so far, and I am unendingly grateful to those who have provided encouragement and support through this writing of this story. I hope that you enjoy! 💕

AO3 Link

Title is from "Hands Like Roots" by The Builders and the Butchers

And if thee should die tonight Well it won't be without a sound When your hands move like roots Making their way through the ground

The afternoon is crisp but bright when you step outside, the sun actively working to melt much of the late autumn snow that had fallen overnight. 

You’d only gone out to take a quick inventory of the oxygen and argon stock, but when you make your way past the loading dock to get to the storage cages you see something that makes you pause and do a double take.

On the compound’s property there are three industrial propane tanks that power and heat the facility, and today they were scheduled to be refilled before the snow properly settles in the mountains making the roads difficult to access during winter.

The refilling had already been completed and the tankers should have been long on their way, so you’re surprised when you see what appears to be a fuel transfer being done between the two bobtail trucks, which is illegal except in special circumstances, and making it more concerning they're also uncomfortably close to the loading dock. 

On top of that, as far as you’re aware this compound isn’t licensed to allow truck to truck transfers at all - something that would normally only be done at the refilling plant - making it doubly illegal

And while this might not be a facility where “legality” is necessarily a top concern, that doesn’t change the fact that it’s still dangerous and incredibly stupid. 

“What are you doing?” You blurt out, standing stock-still as you stare at Anatoly, the man who seems to be directing what’s happening. You weren’t necessarily on friendly terms with the Sokovian man, but you had chatted occasionally and he’d seemed to have more sense than this.

“We didn’t want to do it right next to the big tanks.” He gestures across the yard.

You continue to stare, perplexed. 

“Ok, well, you shouldn’t be doing it here at all, but now you’re right next to the building, and the five pound tanks -” 

“It was the only place flat enough for both trucks.”

“- are a lot closer than those big ones.” 

“Don’t worry, it’s fine.” He brushes you off, starting to get visibly frustrated that you won’t let it go.

Changing tacks you turn to one of the drivers who’s in conversation with Milo, a welder you recognize from another shift.

“Hey, you know you’re not supposed to be doing this here, right?”

“He doesn’t know how, so I’m doing it for him,” Anatoly replies before the driver can answer himself. “You’re making a big deal from nothing.”

“Why are you doing it at all? Unless there’s an emergency you can’t just -”

“I’ve done it before.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Listen, they both would've had to go back to their plant, but now one can go straight to the next job.”

“So let me get this straight: Doing a favour for someone whose job doesn’t have anything to do with you is a good enough reason to create a potentially dangerous situation here? I don’t think that Klaue will love hearing that.”

“You’re not going to tell him.” His annoyed demeanor quickly shifts, his expression going icy.

“No? Why wouldn’t I? You’re doing something incredibly stupid and I think that he should-”

“So you’re going to snitch on me?” He sneers.

“About this? Yeah, I guess I am. And if you’re concerned about him finding out then you must have at least enough common sense to-”

“I don’t need common sense to know that you- ”

“Jesus Christ, would you let me finish a fucking sentence!”

Your voice surprises you and to Anatoly’s credit he actually shuts up, scowling like a petulant teenager who’s realizing that they’re not going to be able to intimidate their way out of trouble. 

The other workers who had been milling around and watching half-interestedly now straighten up and turn towards the trucks.

“You.” Gesturing at both drivers, pleased that they at least appear to be somewhat chastised. 

“You are supposed to be in control at all times. These trucks are your responsibility from start to finish and you’re letting him do something that’s illegal just to save a bit of time?”

“He offered!” The first one exclaims.

“Which he shouldn’t have, but you should have said no and moved on.”

You turn back to Anatoly whose mouth is downturned in an almost comical grimace. 

“And you may think this is no big deal but I very much doubt that Klaue would appreciate you being so flippant about potentially damaging his operation.”

He looks like he wants to say something else but bites his tongue, his stare still condescending even though he knows you’re right and has no argument left. 

At this point, and while you wouldn’t be surprised to learn it, you’re not yet aware that there’s a crack in the hose near to the end connected to the receiving truck. Before you’d even gone outside propane vapour had been steadily leaking out, the only indication that there was a problem the occasional whiff of mercaptan - faint and not out of the ordinary from a typical delivery.

Normally this wouldn’t be an issue and the vapours would simply disperse since you’re outdoors, but it’s unusually calm today with next to no breeze to move the air, allowing the heavier than air propane molecules to instead pool between the trucks like an invisible low-lying fog.

As it is, you’re relieved when everything is finally disconnected and sealed up, and having abandoned your inventory you turn to make your way back inside to try to get this documented, even if others think that you really are overreacting and Anatoly doesn’t face the consequences you think he should.

“You know, maybe next time you could- ”

You’re cut off again, but instead of a condescending comment this time it's by the sudden percussion of an explosion. 

When the full truck’s engine started up an unknown faulty battery sparked and ignited the vapours that had been collecting, the flashback loud enough that your ears don’t register the sound until you’re already on the ground. 

Fortunately you manage not to hit your head but your shoulder feels like you’re lucky it didn’t dislocate when you landed. Slowly pushing yourself up onto your elbow you look around, blinking until your vision slowly comes back into focus and you realize with a sinking feeling that the truck itself is now burning, flames appearing to emerge from one of the valves at the rear.

“Goddamnit,” you curse, momentarily frozen in place as you watch the flames growing quickly in front of your eyes. 

You know that as the temperature rises the pressure inside the tanker does as well, and it needs to be stopped before the valve can no longer vent faster than the pressure is building, and  you have no way of knowing whether any of the internal mechanisms were damaged in the explosion, so you may have even less time than normal.

Finally you manage to convince your muscles to move. Sucking in a breath you grit your teeth and force yourself to standing, moving as quickly as you can to reach the cabinet that houses the fire extinguishers, and then Milo is suddenly there next to you.

“I’ll take this one,” he offers and you quickly nod your thanks. Maneuvering over to the truck you unspool your hose and get as close as you can until the heat of the flames forces you back.

Stumbling briefly from the recoil when you pull the nozzle’s lever back you grimace at the sudden jolt of pain in your shoulder but manage to recover quickly, widening your stance to better brace yourself and focus the thick white cloud on the brightest part of the fire. 

Thankfully the flames seem to be quickly smothered and you move closer as the heat begins to die down. Occasionally you or Milo alternate your focus on the truck’s own fuel tank, working to extinguish the burning propane while also trying to prevent the diesel from possibly igniting as well. 

You can see Tom in your peripheral now, dimly aware of him barking directions, relieved that someone else was there to take charge, and even when the fire appears to be doused you keep your hoses pointed at the truck until both extinguishers have been completely emptied.

Finally, after what feels like hours but was probably less than fifteen minutes since you had walked outside you take a deep, shaky breath and simply sit down right where you stand in the mess of slush and extinguisher residue.

You can almost feel the adrenaline physically draining out of your system, your jaw involuntarily clenching as you begin to shiver. You’re not sure who’s hand squeezes your shoulder, your mind feels fuzzy as mild shock sets in, and it takes conscious effort to release your grip from the hose that’s still sitting across your lap and slowly stand back up.

You're buzzing wildly between a range of emotions: anger, frustration, relief, a blanket of exhaustion settling over all of it as you waver on unsteady legs, tamping down the thoughts of how much more badly this could have gone.

Two days after the incident with the trucks and the ringing in your ears has nearly stopped, and aside from stiff muscles and a painterly bruise blooming across your shoulder you'd come out of it all more or less unscathed.

Once the chaos had wound down and things could be assessed it was fortunate that damage was minimal and the overall injuries turned out to be minor, mostly cuts and bruises from being knocked over or from the burst of gravel from the initial explosion. Even the alarming amount of blood you'd seen running down Anatoly’s face ended up just being a superficial gash.

There are already at least two versions of what happened circulating through the facility, one casting your actions more favourably and one much less so (no question where that one started), though you’re not particularly concerned which version others decide to believe. Enough people witnessed what actually happened, and regardless you know that what you did was the right thing, and you’re confident that Klaue will see that.

You haven’t had a chance to talk to him yet but he's supposed to be on his way back, abandoning the South African coast early to assess the damage and meet with the kind of investigators that a facility that doesn’t exist in the strictest sense will allow.

Although you have his return to look forward to, you can’t help still feeling on edge as the dregs of adrenaline continue to circulate in your blood, and you regularly have to force yourself to take a deep inhale when you realize that your breathing has gone shallow again.

Fortunately you’ve had a simple job the last couple of days, spending your shift taking apart scrap metal to be sent to a foundry to be melted down. Oxy acetylene cutting can be physically taxing and it's hot as hell but it doesn’t require finesse, and right now you’re happy to simply let muscle memory guide you, focusing only on regulating the flow of gas and keeping the glide of the flame’s sharp tip steady as you work. 

You’re waiting for the disassembled pieces you'd just cut to cool before moving them so that you can start on the next section when there’s a sudden burst of activity at the entrance to the shop, and when you turn towards the disturbance you see that Klaue has just walked in.

His eyes have already found you but the swell of excitement at seeing him unexpectedly is quickly replaced by confusion when you register his dark expression.

“You.” He points, singling you out from the crowd. “Come with me.”

Your mouth drops open in surprise at the anger in his tone, and when you don’t immediately move to follow he raises his eyebrows, impatience clear in the tight set of his jaw.

“Now.” He grits through clenched teeth.

“Ohh, someone’s in trouble.” 

You whip around to find the source of the taunt, the anger and frustration that you haven’t fully processed surging out in a red-hot wave, and the words are out before you can think.

“Shut the fuck up!” 

The idiot is looking at you like he’s made some world-class joke and you're ready to lay into him, but suddenly his focus moves behind you and the smirk drops away as the blood drains from his face.

Slowly turning to follow his eyes you see Klaue standing as still as a steel lathe with his arm extended, but it takes several seconds for you to register that the leather holster on his leg is empty and his gun now aimed at the center of the man's chest.

“Shit.” You gasp. 

All of the oxygen seems to have been sucked out of the room and you're rooted to the spot, your hearing gone muffled and tinny. The joker’s eyes are flashbulb wide, standing with his arms jutting into the air as though that might have any impact on what happens next.

Every inch of Klaue appears calm, you might almost say he was relaxed if it weren't for the weapon in his hand. But the unmistakable fury in his eyes colours them nearly black, an obsidian blade glinting in the shadows simply waiting for an excuse to strike, and though he speaks quietly you know that everyone watching this happen can hear every word clear as day. 

“If you ever speak to her about anything other than this job again...” 

He doesn't finish the sentence, he doesn't have to, the sound of the safety lever being flicked off is deafening. The only movement in the room is the flex of tendons in Klaue's hand as his thumb deftly finds the switch.

You’re not sure whether the man is actually breathing, and even though your own heart is pounding out of your chest you find that you’re not exactly upset about the look of abject fear in his eyes.

“No! I mean I won’t! I didn’t mean anything, I’m sorry I-” he stammers, panicked eyes flicking back and forth between the weapon and Klaue’s face, forcing his hands almost comically high until his biceps are covering his ears. 

No one else speaks.

After several more excruciating seconds you finally hear the click of the safety re-engaging and you let out the breath you’d been holding as he slowly replaces the gun in its holster.

Then he turns back to you and repeats:

“Now.”

You have to work to keep up with Klaue’s brisk pace as you make your way through the warren of hallways, eventually ending up in an area you’d only passed by before. You follow him into a room filled with various pieces of vaguely familiar military equipment, a heavy desk and a bank of monitors against one wall, and in your still flustered state it’s only when he closes the door behind you that you realize that he’s taken you to his office.

He walks over and leans on the desk, weight braced on his knuckles as his shoulders rise and fall, each breath slow and deep.

He doesn’t speak, doesn’t look at you - in fact he hasn’t looked at you since he’d turned away expecting you would follow.

“Klaue?”

You think that you note a brief hitch in his breathing, but beyond that he doesn’t respond. 

“Listen, it’s been a long couple of days and I’d really appreciate it if you’d tell me what’s going on.”

“What you did was dangerous.” He replies quietly, finally seeming to find his words.

You sigh. You’re not entirely surprised that that’s what this is about but you’re still irritated and your lingering anger is back at the surface, leaving you fighting to keep your response measured. You’re not the one who’d done anything wrong. You thought he’d understand that.

“I did what needed to be done, that whole situation was getting worse by the second.“

“You put yourself in harm's way. There was no need to get that close when there had already been an explosion.”

“So was I just supposed to stand around with my mouth hanging open like almost everyone else? Or walk away and pretend that nothing was happening?”

“You didn’t need to get yourself involved, period. Those men would have dealt with the consequences of their actions.”

You throw your hands up in resignation.

“This is perfect, I was one of the few people actually trying to help, and yet I’m the one you’re taking it out on? That seems par for the course in all of this.”

Finally Klaue turns around to face you.

“I’m not- ”

"What about Milo? Or more importantly the asshole that actually caused the whole fucking mess??" You're close to yelling now, unable to help it as your anger and disappointment finally boil over.

"Do you really think he hasn't already been dealt with?” He replies sharply. “He’s gone, and won't be stepping foot in another shop anywhere, ever again. I'll be making sure of it.”

There's something flat in his eyes that cloaks the usual sharp blue.

“Ok, well…good.” You’re happy to hear it, though you’re still only somewhat placated. “But that doesn’t change the fact that the damage could have been so much worse if that truck had kept burning. I had to do something."

"That shouldn’t be your concern. I would have handled it."

“More people would have gotten injured.”

“I’m aware.”

“Or killed!"

"You could have gotten- "

He cuts himself off with a sharp exhale, fists balled tight at his sides. 

He hasn’t raised his voice until now, but it's his tone and the way his words waver that gives you pause. As you watch Klaue collect himself you feel something trying to work its way into your chest - something that’s whispering to you what that clouded look in his eyes might have been. 

Fear.

He’s visibly tense, lips pressed in a thin line as he takes a step toward you, broad shoulders curling inwards in an almost protective posture.

“I know you didn’t have anything to do with the accident, and that you wanted to help. But what you did still wasn't-”

He stops again and it surprises you, normally so certain of his words and not exactly afraid to speak his mind, you instead watch the muscles of his jaw working as his eyes burn into yours.

“This is a risky job.” You finally break the silence, trying to reason with him, taking your own tentative step closer to him. “Even when I’m not working for an arms dealer, by the way. Anywhere in this trade mistakes like that can happen.”

There’s a soft “careful” in the quick tilt of his head, and even now you feel a spark of relief at the flash of that familiar part of him.

“And you got hurt here.” 

You only realize that your hand has been rubbing your bruised shoulder when you notice his eyes have shifted to watch your fingers.

“So did other people! Why am I being singled out? What is the concern about me?” 

A part of him seems to drift from you again, and when he doesn’t respond a vice of cold steel begins to tighten around your chest. Has he discerned the real question that was hidden in your words? Is he angry? Disappointed? Indifferent?

Damnit, you curse yourself. 

You wished you hadn’t said it  but the recent stress has eroded your filters and you couldn’t help but push. Even though you’re not going to get the answer you can barely admit that you want.

“If you had really been hurt. If you had gotten killed..” 

When his eyes focus on you again there’s a coldness in them that you’ve only seen hints of before, but now it’s right there at the surface, clear and sharp and seething.

“That man wouldn’t be gone, he would be dead.” 

Oh.

Klaue’s words are laced with a calm certainty that sets your heart racing, your skin prickling hot under the weight of his gaze as you stand there shocked silent by his admission, unsure how to respond.

Just as suddenly as it appeared the cold begins to melt away, his eyes sweeping over you as if confirming that you’re still there, still whole and standing in front of him.

“Did you think I wouldn’t be concerned about you?” He asks, a curious frown knitting his brows.

You’re not sure how to respond to that either and you’re quiet for several long moments, chewing your lower lip while you consider, nervous for a different reason now.

He’s pushing you back, and it’s what you wanted (what you needed), not letting you get away with hiding, because if you’re going to ask the question you need to answer it, too.

But he must know it’s not a simple question, and right now you can’t give him a simple answer.

“I don’t…know what this is.” You start, haltingly. 

The first threads of an admission that there’s something for this to be. 

An admission that although a part of you has known it since the first night he slowly, achingly buried himself inside you, you can no longer pretend that he hasn’t already ruined you.

”Neither do I.” He concedes, slowly closing the last steps that separate you, surprised to find yourself relaxing at his words. It's not an answer, not yet, but still an acknowledgement, that you’re both uncertain but unable to help the way that you’re drawn together. Moths lost in the dark, instinctively picking up on the invisible spark of the other.

His hand reaches up to touch the shoulder that you'd been massaging.

“Let me see.” Klaue rumbles softly as he moves to lift the edge of your shirt, and silently you help him work your arm from the sleeve before he pulls the garment the rest of the way off, leaving you in your sports bra.

“I don’t know that I have to know, but I-” 

You start to speak but then inhale a sharp breath when his palm slides over your shoulder, soothing the bruised warmth, fingers also dance along the scar on your other arm which was fortunately not the side you’d landed on.

“And I don’t know if I can tell you.” His frown deepens as he takes in the angry bloom of purpling skin. “But I haven’t been able to think about anyone else since you’ve been here.” 

You hadn’t assumed anything but you can’t help the sting of relief, even as you fight to hold back the dam of want that’s cracking open beneath your ribs.

But when his hand slides up over your shoulder, your neck, tilting your head so that you meet his eyes, you realize that it's a battle you've already lost.

Your fingers curl around his wrist, the other hand pressing flat against the firm warmth of his chest. 

“I hadn’t been seeing anyone for a while, before Utrech..” You start and then pause, your eyes slipping closed with a sigh as you sink into the sensation of his palm against your cheek. “But even when I was still trying to pretend that I didn’t…since then it hasn’t even occurred to me to think about anyone but you.” 

“Is that right?” Klaue’s voice hums with a pleased timbre though his eyes flick searchingly across your face.

“Yes. There’s no one else. Not now, not-”

Not ever.

“No one has ever come close to making me feel the way you do, Ulysses. And maybe I don’t know what this is, but…I know that I don’t want to stop.” 

The last words come out in a breathless rush, forced out before you can overthink and lock them away again. Finally admitting it as much to yourself as to him.

“I’m not going to stop, darling. Not a fucking chance.” 

You nearly laugh with giddy relief but it’s interrupted when his hand tightens around your jaw, leaning in so that his mouth is hovering over yours as you press your body flush against him, arching into the stiffening ridge of his erection that juts into your hip.

You try to angle your mouth to find the warmth of his lips against yours, but strong hands continue to hold you just there, a breath apart. The air has shifted, a charge growing in the dwindling space between you that leaves your skin tingling from the near contact, and when you feel a faint brush of his lips against yours an audible whine slides from your throat.

“That night, after the bar, I thought about you.” Klaue continues.

“You did?” 

“Yes.” He nearly groans the word. “Thought about how you'd taste when you come.” 

The wet heat that’s been building in your core surges at his words, at the sudden image of him flushed and sweaty, his fist moving in rough strokes over his swollen cock and the thought of you in his head.

One of your hands begins to slide between your bodies, needy fingers plucking at his belt, reaching beneath the waistband and tugging.

“Thought about taking you into the back, finding a quiet corner, having you on your knees in front- in front of me.” His voice hitches and he shudders when you find the now stiff curve of his cock beneath the fabric.

“And then..when you were there, kneeling, I was sure I was dreaming. But you were so much better than my dreams. Such a tease, weren’t you?” He hums, and you can hear the grin even as his voice drops to a rasp of granite and silk. 

“Thinking you could get away with that.”

Klaue’s hips rock into your touch as you squeeze more firmly, sliding your hand along the shape of him, rewarded with a harsh sigh as he pulls back and fixes his eyes fix on yours. You thrill at the heat that you find there, helplessly reaching for the flames that lick against your skin. 

That invite you to burn.

“I didn’t think that for a second. But I already apologized, didn’t I?” 

A flash of him holding you against the door, desperation on your lips as he finally let you fall apart.

“Oh, you thought that was your apology? Getting to come on my fingers?”

“I didn’t, I mean-” You stammer, the movement of your hand faltering even as his admonition sends another wave of heat through your body.

“I’m afraid not, darling. And right now..” Your eyelids flutter and it takes a moment to realize that he’s waiting to make sure he has your attention.

“Y-yes?”

“Maybe I do.”

“You do…what?” Frowning, you try to figure out his meaning through the growing haze of arousal.

“Want to take it out on you.”

Your eyes snap to his, molten sapphire when you meet them.

“And maybe,” Klaue’s thumb swipes across the corner of your lips. “I want to take it out on this mouth of yours.”

His eyes flick down to catch your tongue peeking out as you reflexively lick your lips.

“Because a day hasn’t gone by that I haven’t thought about that sweet promise you made on your knees.” 

His thumb slides against the seam of your lips, smug when they part easily beneath the pressure.

He tsks, but any response you might give is cut off when he pushes past your teeth and your tongue gratefully tastes the calloused skin. But just as you move to take his thumb deeper into your mouth he pulls back, quickly replacing it with his index and middle fingers before you can lament the loss, and you can’t help but moan around the thick digits.

Eagerly you begin to slide your mouth along them, slowly bobbing your head, taking them further until they’re far enough back that your gag reflex triggers and your body stiffens, squeezing your eyes shut as you force yourself to take slow breaths.

Eventually your eyelids flutter open again, your focus coming back to him and the pleased look in his eyes.

Once you catch your breath you increase the suction of your lips to pull his fingers a little deeper, your tongue teasing around and between his two fingers, the texture of his warm skin contrasted with the smooth edges of his ring.

The next time you pull back he takes the opportunity to add a third finger, his other hand reaching up to cup the back of your neck, gently but firmly holding your head in place as he slides them all the way into your mouth again until his thumb and pinky are cradling your jaw.

Klaue’s mouth has dropped open, his breathing gone rough as he watches your lips stretching around his fingers. Both of your hands have moved to grip his shirt, steadying yourself, your eyes beginning to water as your breath comes in quick gasps.

“Shhh,” he soothes. “Just like that.”

His fingers stay where they are until your breathing slows again, nearly wincing at the deep velvet of his gaze on you, soft but inescapable. 

You still feel the instinct to gag, but once your throat relaxes the rest of you follows, and you sigh as he withdraws a little, rubbing gentle circles against your tongue. Your inhibitions are quickly falling away as you become focused only on more, moaning as his fingers continue to move, the thumb of his hand that’s curled around your neck caressing the sensitive skin there.

A heady thrum of desire is growing, settling deep between your thighs as you watch him through heavy-lidded eyes as he alternates between slowly pumping and then pressing deep and holding there, pleased when your breathing evens out more quickly every time.

Watching his expression cloud over with lust it occurs that you’d never really thought about how much he liked this. How watching your lips, and feeling your warm, slick mouth around his fingers as they grow shiny with your spit has him barely hanging on.

“That’s my needy girl.” 

Klaue’s words are a sigh, almost a release, the tension when you had first followed him ebbing from his body, smoothing the set of his shoulders as his fingers continue to move.

You shudder again, unable to hold back the keening sounds from escaping your throat, your center already soaked and aching and you don’t even have his cock in your mouth yet.

“What’s the matter, isn’t this enough?” His words are cut with a smug glint of gold, seeming to guess what you’re thinking about.

And honestly you would let him keep doing this if he wanted, turning you into a mindless mess with just his fingers and only your eyes able to plead wordlessly for more. But he said he was going to fuck your mouth, and the narrowing of your eyes answers his question.

His unoccupied hand releases your neck and takes one of your hands, returning it to the waist of his pants where you quickly work at his belt and zipper, determined though distracted by the continued slip and drag through your lips. 

Eventually you manage to reach beneath the fabric to grip his hard length, your other hand tugging the layers down until you’re able to free his cock. The movement of his fingers falters at your touch but then he’s grinning when your moans become more plaintive, saliva spilling from the corners of your mouth as your hand hungrily strokes the intoxicating heat of him.

“Now, don’t swallow.” Klaue murmurs.

You have a split second to frown before he withdraws, realization dawning when you have to quickly close your mouth to keep from drooling.

Unable to reply, you wait a beat before your eyebrows raise in a question.

“On your knees.” His hand drops, slick fingers replacing yours where they’re wrapped around his length.

Your breath catches with anticipation, and unable and unwilling to hide how eager you are now you keep your eyes on his as you sink down slowly until the thick circle of his fist is directly in front of you, the slit already leaking as he strokes himself. 

The sight of it has you aching, desperate for your lips to replace the languid slide of his fingers, to take him deep into your mouth then and nose into the dark, grey-flecked hair that spreads from the base of him.

“Now, spit on my cock, darling.”

Your reverie suddenly broken you look up to see him watching you intently, eyes dark and commanding, his hand now gripping the thick base, holding himself out to you.

Waiting.

Still unable to reply, all you can do - all you want to do - is acquiesce. So you lean forward and slowly let the saliva slide from your parted lips until it drops onto the head of his cock, his palm quickly gathering and dragging your offering down his length, groaning at the slide of it beneath his fingers.

Only when you hear the low timbre of his laugh do you realize that you’re practically pouting as your eyes eagerly follow the movement of his hand.

You lean forward again, glossy lips parting in anticipation, but his other hand quickly reaches to grasp your hair and stops you. 

You’re agonizingly close, not caring how desperate you must look straining against his grip as your tongue flicks out, the sounds of skin on slick skin making you increasingly desperate to taste him as he holds you just out of reach of what you want.

“Look at you.” Klaue croons.“You’re always switched on. You’re strong and I can see how hard you work, and I want you to know how much I appreciate that.”

You flush at his praise, briefly distracted from your conquest.

“But when I use your mouth…then I get to watch you let go. I can tell that you don’t like to do it for yourself, so I’m going to do it for you. Going to empty that head of yours.”

His hips nudge toward you and this time when your lips drop open he lets you move to meet him.

He sucks a hiss through his teeth when you press a wet kiss against the thick head of his cock, chased by a relieved groan as you let your lips smear the glisten of precum that continues to leak there, fresh heat blooming between your legs at the sounds this draws from him.

You keep the muscles of your jaw relaxed and pliant as you press slowly forward. Not sucking yet, simply using the head of his cock to part your lips to slide over the already slick skin, slowly and thoroughly mapping the shape of him with your mouth.

And he's right, of course. You can feel yourself relaxing as you finally taste the musk of his heated skin, humming contentedly as your tongue swirls around the head and drags over the sensitive frenulum, the tension of the last few days finally draining away with every languorous slip of your mouth. 

A different kind of tension quickly swelling deep in your core.

“Jesus.” Klaue sighs above you as you gradually take him deeper, one hand braced on his thigh while the other wraps around him, his cock achingly hard beneath your fingers. 

Still loosely holding your hair he's letting you work him, your own pleased moans slipping from your throat as you lick hungrily over every ridge and vein, savouring the salty tang of his velvet-slick skin warm against your tongue

Pleasure thrums through your body, growing hotter with the attention you’re giving him, but as you take him deeper again, your lips stretching wider, realization flickers in the back of your mind that you haven’t even taken him halfway yet and you’re already growing overwhelmed by how full your mouth is. 

But, god, the ragged sound he makes when you slide down until his cock nudges the back of your throat makes your cunt throb, so you pull back so that you’re holding just the tip of him between your lips and then you do it again, reveling in every inch that you can take.

Slowly you build a steady rhythm until saliva is dripping down your chin, he's continuing to let you control the pace for now, allowing you to breathe and adjust until he’s deeper than when he was on the couch.

Your hunger is growing, though, and soon you're pushing forward with more intention and when your throat spasms you swallow reflexively, your eyes watering when this draws him in further. Klaue’s moans deepen at the ripple of the muscles around his cock but you’re unable to fight it any longer and you gag, even as his drawn out “Fuck” has your hips rocking.

Squeezing your eyes shut you just barely manage to stay where you are, tears dampening your lashes until you finally have to pull back, although you keep him in your mouth, breathing hard through your nose to catch your breath.

“It’s alright,” he rasps. ”Don’t think you’re going to be able to take all of me right now, darling. But you’ll take as much as you can, and when you can swallow every inch of my cock then you’ll get to feel me come down your throat.” 

You can’t help the muffled sound you make that’s equal parts arousal and disappointment.

“Don’t worry, I’m still going to make a pretty mess of your mouth," he teases, his heaving chest and half-lidded eyes betraying his own growing need.

Not that he isn’t doing a fair job of it already, of course, unable to properly swallow, your chin is quickly growing shiny with drool. The pressure of his other hand still cradling the back of your neck firm but soothing as he holds you in place, as the still restrained flex of his hips begins seeking the wet heat of your mouth again, and you sigh at the intoxicating weight of his cock dragging against your tongue.

As you relax your awareness drifts back down to the heat between your legs, the slick press of the seam of your pants against your sex barely relieving the ache there as you squeeze your thighs together. 

After a few more slow thrusts he presses forward into the back of your throat again, and as he holds himself there you take a shaky breath and swallow once, and then again, taking more of him than you have so far. 

“There you go, God-”

You try to hollow your cheeks to pull him in further but you gag again when he bucks suddenly, his words cut off with a growled curse.

“It’s alright,” Klaue soothes, pulling back to give you a moment to recover, though it was more startling than painful. “You’re doing so fucking well.” 

Looking up at him you see that his eyes are screwed shut, head bowed and breathing hard, concentration etched clearly across his face. When he finally opens his them he can only groan at the sight of your tear-damp reverence, his attention is first drawn first to where he's disappearing into your mouth as he starts to move again, but it’s not long before they catch instead on the needy cant of your hips.

“You do love this, don’t you? Have you soaked through your panties already?”

You can only let out a whimpered moan as you attempt to nod.

He hasn’t let you take his cock out of your mouth yet and you can feel the drool that continues to spill from your lips beginning to collect and drip off of your chin, down onto your chest where it slicks the skin between your breasts.

There’s a flicker in the back of your mind, a needling thought that you should feel…ashamed. By the mess, and your neediness, by how much you fucking adore being on your knees for this man. 

But that flicker is quickly snuffed out as Klaue continues to use your mouth, and as you take in the look of awe in his eyes, when you feel his thumb softly stroking over the curve of your cheekbone, you realize that you don’t feel below him. 

That although you're on your knees, it feels like you’re the one being worshiped.

You want to focus on him and you try, really you do, but the heated ache in your cunt is becoming unbearable and you can't  help shifting and squeezing your thighs together, made breathless by your need as much as by the fullness of him in your mouth.

He's has been watching - and clearly enjoying - this increasingly desperate movement of your hips, but finally he seems to take pity on you.

“Do you want to touch yourself, darling? Want to come while you drool all over my cock?” 

Even through his tease you can feel how his own words affect him in the quickening buck of his hips.

“Go on then, feel how wet your pussy is just from this.”

The words are barely past his lips and you’re already moving, but just as you manage to work your hand beneath the waistband of your pants he speaks again.

“Slow.” 

The word is quiet but firm, Klaue's tone softer than before yet shot through with an irresistible command and you pause, glancing back up.

His shoulders and neck are impossibly broad from this vantage, eyes bright but tinged with a smoky darkness that does away with your resistance, and you know with a thrilling certainty that as desperate as you are for relief, in this moment you’d do whatever he asked.

Keeping your eyes locked on his you begin to move again, dipping your hand down - slowly.

“That’s it. Slip your hand into your panties now. Just- just one finger, darling.” His voice is uneven and clipped like he's having to concentrate on forming the words. “Slide it along that pretty slit of yours. Barely need to press to feel it, don’t you? How wet you are.”

You can only whimper in response, the building ache between your thighs only made worse by how close you are to relief, by how you could increase the pressure just slightly and you’d be able to part yourself and find your desperate bundle of nerves.

“You have no idea how delicious that first taste of you is. So fucking sweet.” 

There’s an edge to his words, as though he were jealous of your fingers, that they get to slide and tease between your legs and not his tongue.

There’s barely any friction beneath your index finger, but the soft glide combined with his grunted breaths above you has you clenching and it's near agony to keep your movements slow and controlled, fighting against every instinct in your body not to give in as your sex quivers, pleading for more.

So instead you pull your focus back to his cock and let your mouth move the way you wish your fingers could, quickly and hungrily sliding your lips along his shaft until with a sudden movement you take him into the back of your throat again and keep him there, your hand stroking the part of him you can't take.

“Christ,” he grits through his teeth, your scalp stinging from the quick jerk of his hand in your hair. “Not yet.” 

You can't tell if this is directed at you or himself as he swallows and releases a shuddered breath, his voice strained when he speaks again.

“Slide two fingers over your clit for me, now.” 

Relief ripples up your spine as you eagerly press through your drenched folds, fingers dragging against your swollen bud, unable to let out more than a choked sound as you push forward to keep his cock where it is in your throat, hot tears spilling over.

“Again.” 

Your touch grows rougher, matching his words, feeling the inevitable swell of pleasure growing as you float there, caught in the riptide of his voice.

”Want to go faster, don’t you?” Klaue rasps. “Want to reach down to feel how soaked your needy hole is?” 

You do, trembling fingers unable to help chasing the path of his words as if they were his tongue instead, sliding along your slick cleft and down to gather more of your arousal. 

Pleasure strings tighter when your fingers slide back up and over your clit, cursing  him internally as you gasp short breaths through your nose. You try to relax your throat even as every other muscle in your body draws tight, unsure how much longer you can keep yourself from falling over the edge.

You can’t really tell him, only your eyes can plead, I’m close, I’m so close it feels so good please let me come. 

“So used to begging with that pretty mouth.” He taunts with a breathless growl, reading your desperation, his lips curled in a grin at your half-delirious expression.

“It's alright, I know how good it's making you feel to use your mouth like this instead. Just like I know you’re going to make yourself come now.”

You're so close to lost that it takes a second for you to process his command, but when you do something in you snaps.

Your fingers immediately find a tight rhythm as you chase the swollen edge of pleasure, his fist gripping your hair tight to hold you firmly in place as your movements begin to grow frantic, unable to control any part of you as the blinding heat of your climax finally shocks through you.

The muscles of your throat spasm as your cunt flutters around nothing, desperate sounds caught in your chest as your hips buck and writhe against your fingers. Your other hand is entirely lost to any sense of rhythm and it drops to grasp at the fabric covering his thigh in an attempt to find purchase, and then suddenly his hand not in your hair is there, strong fingers twining tightly with yours, holding on to you as you fall apart.

“That’s it,” Klaue pants, his voice thick with lust and awe. “Choke on my cock while you come.”

You want to curse and cry and plead as ecstasy works its way through you in eddies and purls, and it almost feels like you might be drowning but you’re powerless to want anything else but to drown in him, trembling with relief as your fingers roughly work every pulse of pleasure from your clit.

As the waves begin to soften your other senses gradually filter back in: the ache in your throat and your jaw, the sting in your knees where they press into the floor, and when your body slackens as you start to come down he allows you pull back enough to properly catch your breath. 

Slowly you’re able to focus again, eyes damp and red rimmed as you look up at him, but you only have a brief moment to appreciate his pleased expression before his eyes go storm dark.

“Going to come in your mouth, now.”

Fingers tighten in your hair once more and then he’s moving. His thrusts are rough now with surrendered control as his hips chase a harsh rhythm, a low groan rolling through his chest that's woven together with your name as he finally gives in and takes what you'd promised. 

You attempt to tighten your lips around him as his rasping curses continue above you, but it’s no use, all you can do is kneel and relent to the slide of his cock filling your mouth again and again.

You want to beg him, words that fall so easily from your lips now when you sense that he’s about to let go for you, but you can only whine for it, your plaintive noises slipping messily around his cock until the pattern of his thrusts falters. And then, finally, there's only bliss when you hear his choked gasp as he stiffens, and you feel the first warm spurts of his spend coating your tongue.

With a low, open-mouthed moan he continues to fuck into the wet suck of your mouth, spilling himself across your lips and chin as well as your tongue until pearly ropes of cum are mixing with your drool, the mess of it dripping in slick stands off of your chin.

Then suddenly Klaue pulls out completely for the first time since this started and at first you can only gasp and cough, but when his hand wraps around himself your mouth instinctively drops open. Resting the head of his cock against the offering of your tongue he slowly strokes though the last pulses of his orgasm, making sure to give you every last drop, dragging through the slick mess with slow, sated thrusts until his fist gradually stills.

Eventually he pulls back though not away, panting and heavy lidded as he looks down at you where you kneel, a shining strand strung between his tip and your swollen lips that glisten with the pearly sheen he’s painted them with.

“Now you can swallow, darling.” 

You’re not sure if you should laugh or sob, but fighting both you make sure to keep your eyes on his as you curl your tongue back into your mouth and swallow, before dragging your fingers across your chin to gather the mess he left there, too.

A lazy smile curves his lips as he watches your mouth sliding around your fingers, and once you've cleaned as much as you can your hand drops, both of them resting on the tops of your thighs. 

Gently, the backs of Klaue’s fingers brush at the streaks of tears that are beginning to dry on your cheeks, then one slowly hooks under your chin to tip your head up, not letting you hide, leaving you startled by the affection that vines its way through your ribcage, burrowing into the want that even now burns hot. 

The want that folds into a desperation to please him, to give and take everything until the only thing left is your desire. 

You wish that you could explain it to him, that you could say something coherent, but any words you try to form seem to dissipate before they can reach your mouth, and you’re unsure that you could even articulate your thoughts as you sit in the filmy haze of your afterglow. 

So when you do open your mouth you're nearly as caught off guard by the words that come out as he is, your voice an almost unfamiliar, grateful rasp.

“Thank you.” 

Klaue’s satisfied grin falls away, his lips parting with a groaned sigh and then he’s reaching down, a hand curling around your bicep to pull you up to standing. You waver against the stiffness in your legs but he supports you, his palm again finding its place against your cheek.

He pauses, really taking in the state of you: your dazed expression and cock-swollen lips, standing there bruised and mussed and shirtless and pleased, his large hand brushing across your chin to catch more of the sheen there, words seeming to hover on the tip of his tongue.

The line between his brows deepens with a purse of his lips, a barely perceptible shake of his head. 

“You’re going to be the death of me, klein Mot.”

Then he's pulling you against him, his lips suddenly on yours and he's kissing you deeply, licking hungrily into your mouth and you swiftly grow breathless as he chases the taste of himself on your tongue. But just as you’re sinking into it, he pulls away. 

“Come here.” 

He turns with you, quickly crowding you back against his desk, hands reach down to wrap around your thighs and you quickly brace against the surface as he lifts you until you’re perched on the edge of it.

Your legs fall open easily as he moves forward, his focus coming to rest on you again as his hands slide up to circle your waist.

“You did so fucking well.” A smile tugs at his lips again as thumbs trail soft patterns against your bare skin. “Are you alright?” 

Warmth blooms at his concern, an unexpected contrast with what had just transpired.

“Yes.” You’re still finding your voice, still feeling like you're catching your breath, but you’re good. More than.

“You're sure?”

Leaning forward you slide your arms around his broad waist, hitching your legs up as well, drawing him into you.

“Yes, I promise.” You assure, brushing the ghost of a smile against his lips. “And…I promise that I won’t lie to you if anything is too much.”

“Good.” Klaue pulls back to look at you, a pleased edge of gold glinting in the blue before a more serious expression settles into the creases around eyes. “Because I'm going to keep pushing you.” 

You inhale sharply, a fresh throb of heat blooming in your still slick core as your legs tighten around his hips.

“I want you to, Ulysses,” you hum, slowly arching and rolling your center against him, feeling him still half hard where he'd tucked himself back into his pants. 

“I know, my darling.” His words are knowing and smooth with the edges singed dark, hands roving slowly over the soft flesh of your waist as he continues matter-of-factly. “But right now, you’re going to have some water, and then I’m going to make you come again.”

“Yeah?” You say hopefully as you continue to move against him, chasing the heat he so easily stokes in you with just a few words.

A slow nod and a rumbled confirmation. 

“I’m going to take care of you, now, Mot. I don’t need you to make any decisions today. Except for one.”

“Oh?” 

“Not how many times you’re going to come, that's up to me. But you’re going to tell me how.”

“God, Ulysses.” You’re burning with arousal now, every inch of your skin prickling hot. “That's all?”

“Will it be my fingers?” 

His hands brush further up your waist, thumbs teasing beneath the band of your bra to just brush against the sensitive curve of your breasts before trailing back down.

“Or my mouth?”

Leaning in his lips press against your neck, a silvered shimmer of nerves swirling out from the point where his tongue flicks out to taste your skin, your body swiftly surrendering to the heat of his promise.

“Or perhaps you’d like to straddle my thigh until you’ve made a lovely mess for me.”

A needy sound rends itself from your chest as his thumbs press into the sensitive creases where your hips meet your thighs, but just as you open your mouth to reply, a loud knock sounds on the door.

“Not right now.” Klaue calls out to whoever is in the hall without pulling away from you.

“Yes, now.”

“I’m not ask-”

“It’s a call you’ve been waiting for. There's a problem.”

Jaw clenching, he exhales a sharp breath.

“Just a minute,” he replies.

“You really need to-”

“Just a minute.” Klaue snaps, his head jerking towards the door and you jump, your legs tightening around him.

“Alright, alright.” 

The man’s voice trails off and it sounds like he’s moved down the hallway, at least for now. 

When he looks back at you you’re biting your lip, the look in his eye telling you he must have noticed your reaction to his tone.

“Think about what I asked.” 

You're about to reply that you will, but something occurs to you about the suggestions he’d given you.

“Wait, is.. is your cock not an option?” You give him a coy look through your lashes, intending to tease but still a little nervous that maybe it won't be.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to fuck you, darling. If you’re good.”

A thumb grazes the corner of your mouth, distracting you momentarily from what that means as you unconsciously flick your tongue out to meet it, earning you a knowing grin when you quickly pull away with a sheepish laugh.

“So?” He says, waiting for your confirmation of his request.

“I will. I’ll…think about it.” You're nearly panting now as the rock of your hips grows needier, shocked at how quickly you can feel another orgasm building already, if you just had a few more minutes you could-

“That’s all you’ll be doing, though. Yeah?” 

Strong hands tighten around your hips, pinning their faltering movement against him and you pull back with a frown.

“Are you saying…you want me to think about how I want to come, but I can’t- ”

“Smart girl, you did hear what I said.” His gaze sweeps over your face, and you barely manage not to scoff.

“Yes, I heard you. But I mean, I did already make myself come. I made that decision.”

Klaue tilts his head, mock curiosity knitting his brows.

“Did you?”

You open your mouth to argue but then close it again, pursing your lips together in a pout. He has a point, though: It may have been your fingers, but it was his words guiding you, and you only made yourself come when he told you that you would.

“I decide,” he repeats, and you bite back a whimper when he slowly grinds you against him again. “And I've decided you're going to wait.”

There’s another, more insistent knock at the door.

“Coming.” Suddenly letting go he steps back from you, not hiding his pleasure at your pained expression as he finds and hands you your shirt which you reluctantly put back on.

“I’ll walk you back to the main corridor.” He pauses with his hand on the doorknob and raises a brow, waiting for you to follow.

“Fine. I’ll think about it.” You finally say, pushing yourself off of the desk, not bothering to hide the frustration in your voice.

“I know you will, darling.” His certainty overlaps with a challenge as he opens the door. 

Be good, and you can come on my cock. 

You shudder when his hand quickly presses against your lower back as you move past him, even the brief pressure burns hot through the fabric of your shirt, and then the door clicks shut behind you.

So, you have to wait. Again. And though you’re getting good at it now, and even knowing that it won’t be long, you’re not sure how you’re going to make it, your nerves already on fire as you part and watch him walk away.

AN: As always thank you so much for reading! 🥰 The next chapter will not be nearly as long a wait since about 75% of it was already written before I decided to split this on up! Will it be soon soon? No, but it won't be quite as long as this break as this was! Though to be fair I did write two other fics (and a drabble), flew to London, and dealt with a personal loss, and then the recovery from of all the that plus y'know, life in general. But we're finally here, and I'm glad that I made it and can finally share this with you all!

Full disclosure I am not someone who works with propane, and while much of the information is based what I've been able to find online, the accident itself is based on the events of a real explosion at a propane plant that happened in Canada several years ago. So things are likely not necessarily going to be 100% correct, but there are real variables here that would explain something like this happening.

I also want to mention that there's a line in that that was actually the first (filthy) line of not just this chapter, but also of this entire part two. I was only around halfway through part one and was just realizing there would even be a part two (the line did end up changing a bit as the story evolved, but it's still in here. 😏). Also I wrote it, closed the doc, then opened Instagram and immediately saw that Andy was coming to to Toronto. And instantly panicked. So there's that. 😂

[qiutls]

TNGDH 004

Evening came, and at the study of the Grade Duke of Blake, Cashew Nut was having a theme park party. If we tone it down a little, you could call in a hamster feast.

Okay! All right! Is there anyone else who wants to get on the Ferris wheel? We'll bring you up to the top in a blink of an eye. Get on now and get a view of the Northern Grand Duke's office!

This kind of opportunity will not come twice. At the top we can also play disco music... Oh wait a bit, isn't this wheel a lot more like disco pang pang rather than a Ferris wheel? Anyway, hurry and come quickly, to Cashew Nut Land, the land of fantasy.

I shook my head in silence and turned the wheel by hand.

Rattle. Rattle.

The wheel which was too heavy to spin at first began to roll quickly once it was accelerated. It seems you can turn it with just your hands. No, these hands can also be called as feet. My front feet.

[ㄟ(˘ o ˘)ノ] shrug emoji

...If I spin it by hand... Isn't it also called rolling the wheel? basically the term used for the quest was the same as rolling the wheel, the quest means to run as a hamster to make the wheel turn, but Soohyun is trying to roll the wheel with just his hands

No, look at this small and fragile limbs. You unscrupulous system. I'm telling you, if I run with my feet, I'll die.

Hey, excuse me. Mr. System.

Are you listening, you punk?

[ 0003/1000 ]

I really can't complete the mission like this?

[ It's a system without conscience!ꉂꉂ(ᵔᗜᵔ*) ]

Ah...

I began to spin the wheel quickly in order to break it. Yet my heart didn't feel any better even when I heard a rattling sound of something breaking. 

This damn Ferris wheel. No, this hamster wheel. How long would I have to run on this. Can't you just pretend to not know and be a little bit more tolerant.

No, it's Kyle's fault. Who puts a wheel like this without even considering the size of his pet hamster? You can't even find a guinea pig that would enjoy this size of a wheel!

This shitty life! Damn it!

I was busy venting my anger when all of a sudden, the door opened without a knock. Of course, it was Kyle, the owner of the estate.

No, what kind of estate is this? Is it possible to oversee all of it with just a quick turn. It didn't even take him a day...

I got caught... Come to think of it, wasn't I supposed to be taking a nap.

Kyle Jane Minehardt walked toward the hamster house with great force. He walked confidently enough to be called the leader of the North.

What about his outfit? Thick capes to keep out the icy wind, armor made out of both iron and leather and boots that come up to below the knees to help you tread the snow.

A handsome man who seems like he can't be stopped by anything, his whole being is marred by winter.

"Cashew Nut?" He called me in a puzzled voice. 

I would be confused as well, if the first thing I see when I come back is the hamster wheel spinning all alone and the hamster went missing. Of course, I didn't actually vanish, I just went to the back to take a breather.

"I can see your butt."

​No wonder the house seemed a little small. I came out of my hiding place with an awkward expression.

"I want to spend time with you right away, but...​ Unfortunately, there are many documents to check today so it's a little difficult."

― Eek [ No thanks! ]

"That's right, I'm sad too."

― Eeek [ No! I'm not sad. ]

Feeling sad my ass! I hope through this personal time, you are able to reform your inner self. Let's stop kissing and singing silly praises, okay?

Kyle looked as if he wanted to take me to his hand and kiss me. However, it seemed as if what he said about being busy was not a lie. He just looked at me with a longing gaze, and soon sighed and sat down in front of his desk.

That's right, I doubt you were given the title of a Great Duke just because you were good at using your sword.

If it were that way, the throne would've been handed through a duel and not as a hereditary succession. Whether you like it or not, you have to endure the boring paperwork for the betterment of the estate. It's the same whether it's here or it's back in my world, it's hard to make ends meet in both places.

Still, you're pretty cool... So professional

​I sat between the sawdust and watched Kyle.

He was diligently writing something on a roll of parchment paper. I didn't know how his exact handwriting looked like because I couldn't see it from here, but I think it would be very neat.

He went to work in serious manner as if he was completely oblivious to my existence.

Even a guy with just a month left to live works so hard.

​Well, I guess, you never really know when your life's about to end. I shook my knee and stood up. Somehow, I felt like I had to do something.

...Of course, I'm not doing this just because I finished napping and there was nothing else to do.

That's right, if you have to run a thousand rounds anyways, just finish it earlier. What kind of humans are we? Koreans! Hurry up! the last line is a Korean slogan, back then foreigners thought Koreans were always in a hurry and Koreans used that as their slogan

I was determined to carry out a "fast-paced operation."  How am I supposed to complete it fast? As a developer, the answer to completing things quickly is... Do it overnight.

A developer is a creature that's used to working overnight. Let's burn our bodies like we're in Pangyo's lighthouse. Pangyo's lighthouse is a term used in KR, it symbolizes how offices never turn off their lights because of overtime shifts

[ I think that's a good idea! (*´╰╯`๓) ]

Don't laugh. I don't like it.

[ (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞ ]

I got on the wheel with a deep sigh. Then using all my physical strength, I ran on the huge Ferris wheel with my four feet.

I've already become a dog after drinking so much, and now for the first time I've become a hamster spinning a wheel... It's a relief that both have four legs. the first line is a KR saying, that if you drink too much, you become unruly like a dog

Clatter.

After a few laps, I finally got a sense on how to efficiently run.

I got the feeling while running around earlier, it was more convenient to just leave your body to the flow and run at moderate speed than to speed up at the beginning and fail to keep up. But the wheel was heavier than I thought, so it was really hard to keep roll it with your feet.

Rattle. Clack. Clatter. Splat... Oh... I fell down. I fell flat on my face. I took a quick glance at Kyle.

You didn't see it right?

Yeah, I don't think he saw it. Kyle was still reading the report with a serious look on his face. I don't know if he's that good at concentrating or if he was just indifferent towards me.

"...I think I'm done."

A few hours passed just like that. Kyle massaged his stiff neck and stretched it side to side. At the same time, I also smelled an unusual scent from my mouth. It was time to rest, I didn't want to die of overwork. search keto diet bad breath if you wanna know more about it

[ 0213/1000 ]

That's right, after resting a bit, that guy will go back to his bedroom, and I'll be alone till morning.

Rattle.

The ceiling of the hamster house was opened. 

Whatever, do as you please. You'll put me down anyways and go to bed after saying some silly comments. Then I'll do my best and run for a thousand laps, turn into a human, set aside my life as a hamster and receive the next quest.

It was the perfect plan, assuming I can ride 800 more laps just like earlier.

"Well, let's take this out."

...Huh, w-wait a minute!

​Hey! Don't take my wheel.

I grabbed the wheel reflexively and hung on it. What kind of wheel is this? Why are you taking it with you?! Why are you taking it all of a sudden, you didn't even care when I fell from it earlier!

I put some more strength on my small paws hanging from the wheel. Even though Kyle changed directions while pulling up the wheel, I snuggly hung on it. However, my rebellion didn't last for long, he carefully grabbed me with his other hand and separated me from the wheel. 

― Squeak! Squeak! [ Hey! You bad guy! ] "I know you liked it, but no more, Cashew Nut. I'm worried that your knee joints would get damaged."

― Squeak! [ Is this your first time seeing a hamster spin a wheel?!  ]

"Yes, yes. You must be sad, but it's all for your health. Don't be too unhappy."

Kyle left the wheel far away and gave me a kiss on the belly. I turned and slapped him with my feet on the face and rushed to the system.

Hey! Honestly, shouldn't this quest be invalid, how am I going to complete it without a wheel!

[ Let's become an active hamster! (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ]

I clenched my fist again, feeling my insides boil. If only I could see the system in front of me, I would have hit its head.

What? An active hamster? The kind of hamster that gets caught by the Northern Grand Duke and gets nonstop kisses?

If you want that kind of hamster, then you transmigrate! To be honest, even if I had transmigrated to Serena's body instead of here, my fate would be better than now. Even though she goes through many ups and downs, it isn't as frustrating as being a beast who cannot even speak.

My human rights. Give me back my human rights, this damn world!

"Anyways, you must be hungry. You've rolled the wheel so much, you must be famished."

Now he thinks I'm grumpy because of mere hunger. Once I stepped on the sawdust, I huffed and forced myself as close to the corner as possible.

Kyle picked something up from the drawer on this table and soon he hang the macadamia above me.

"You can eat it."

​He spoke so gently, if people overheard, they would have thought he was speaking to a lover.

I grabbed Kyle's fingers with my small hands and bit it, that's right i bit his finger and not the macadamia.

Then a system window popped up in front of me.

[ More than anything, I'm not a hamster, but a human. I don't do barbaric things like biting. ]

That's what I said to the system.

Yeah, there was a time like that. But Bae Soohyun died yesterday. I am Bae Soohyun who was born anew. Now this Bae Soohyun bites people. Meat is better than macadamia.

And isn't this just what people call karma? If you don't want to be bitten, don't do something that would get you bitten!

"Is your tooth itchy?"

Contrary to the pain I expected, Kyle was very calm. He even lifted me from the butt and began to look at me with worried eyes.

Hey! What are you looking at?

Don't look! Don't look at my butt as well!

Give me back my wheel!

"Behave and play well."

After that he put me back into the house and went back to his bedroom. Clack. The lights in the study went out, and it became silent in an instant.

I sat down on the sawdust and fell back to the ground. 

My wheel...

​Really, what a lucky day...

novel ⠀✿⠀ next

[psychelis-new]

pick a pile: "Message from your inner child"

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read a message from your inner child probably on how to reconnect with them and work with them. reminder that we're plenty of layers and there are also different children's ages inside of us (and teens too, if you're older), so you may need to reconnect with a specific inner child at this moment.

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

1 2 3 4 - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 1

Your inner child seems to love winter -I heard "best season!"- (maybe you were born in winter too), snow/ice (making snow angels or playing with snow), and Christmas (if applies). You probably loved receiving gifts (it made you feel special) or you not always had what you wanted. Your inner child needs you to comfort them and remind them that they are worthy of anything they want and that they can receive it too. Help them believe in Santa again, or be their Santa ("work" -mostly inner work- so to bring them the stability/safety/self worth they lack so much after having being told many no's). Your inner child is cute and funny but only with people they like. They probably are a bit closed off with other people and children and rather play/stay alone. They are an observer, probably don't talk too much but know and understands a lot. So very sensitive and caring. Probably loved to listen to blues and jazz with someone from your family, or any other type of music (music relaxed/s them).

Someone here (or on pile 3 maybe, but prolly just a few from there) doesn't want to do something they're supposed to do and keep procrastinating/postponing the task ("adulthood... meh"). It's probably cause you feel worn out for some reason, maybe you kept going for so much without giving yourself a break and now your tiredness is hitting you all of a sudden. Or maybe you somewhat "fear" doing that will comport you having to take some type of action/decision (and leaving this current "stagnant" but safe situation) and probably you don't want it, especially unconsciously. It's okay, it happens, do not fight that feeling. Listen to yourself, to your inner child -they probably want to help you understand why it happens-.

Your inner child wants you to take a break, just enjoy a nice walk outside or do anything you feel like, even just taking a nap. They want you to hug them and cherish them, and to give yourself accolades cause of all the work you have done until today. They are better with actions than words, they're so cute. Please take care of them, stay around them and play with them a bit when you can. They need your presence, even if it feels like they are used to be alone. They don't have to (and not even you). Hugs to both.

song: love me | jerry butler

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 2

Your inner child is very pretty and elegant (i am seeing them dressed up for a picture, maybe it's picture day at school or a family pic for grandparents). For some of you, they may have been a bit spoiled but at the same time, they may have been idealized a lot as THE child: the one who had to be "perfect", with "perfect" grades, clothes, behaviour... This child is just very sweet but got very pressured into being more than a child. They had to be what they didn't want to be, despite they didn't know what they wanted, except for making others happy and being praised. It may have made them a bit naive or egoistical on occasion, but they never act this way consciously, with bad intentions. They're (you're) just hurt, but don't know how or why cause they didn't do anything wrong. They obeyed the rules. This child has idolized their parents/caregivers too (which is normal for many kids, to see their parents as superheroes and to want to follow them/obey without asking why).

Your inner child needs some support from a different type of adult. A more permissive and a less pretending one. An adult that understands that we all make mistakes, no matter if we are children or adults. And it's fine to make them. They need to remove that little bow tie or the hairgrips/barrette and just go splash in the mud. To cover their clothes in mud, to let things be. They need you to be that type of adult, to teach them how to be their real imperfect self, cause nobody is perfect (perfection is also very subjective). To take them around on a bike and laugh with them if they stick their tongue out to passers-by. No reason, just because. They need you to ruffle their hair and laugh with them at how funny/crazy they look. They need support into being just a child, not a copy of an adult. They need you to ask them about their opinions and to help them form some others, cause they always relied on others' ones and it doesn't have to be so forever. They need to think and see with their own mind, heart and eyes. And they want you to do this for them too. They want to listen to your own opinions and ideas, they want you to stand out and to be yourself. To be unafraid of others' thoughts and reactions about you. To not care if you are not who others want you to be but to know that you're happy to be who you are also thanks to them and all they did and learned in the process.

Still, remember to pump them up on occasion, I feel they still need to feel nice words and compliments here and there. No matter what they do ofc. Just get on your knees and imagine to look at the in the eyes, and compliment them.

song: love your voice | jony

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 3

Your inner child probably felt very different when little. It was hard to feel like they belonged. Maybe they also had to grow up quite fast. They are very sweet and gentle, nice, lovely big smile (for some their teeth aren't perfect but nobody cares, this big smile can brighten anyone's day and any room). [TW childhood] They probably had to parent themselves at times or kinda act as a parent to their parents or adults (especially if emotionally immature/unstable). They are very welcoming and helping, at times even to a fault. May have been people pleasing, maybe their home wasn't the best to grow up in and had to do it, not just because they felt it as an inner need. Still, it didn't changed their big heart. [/TW childhood]

If you're called to pile 1, you may want to check it (2nd paragraph in particular), cause I feel for some of you too that you don't want to do something you are supposed to do.

Your inner child wants you to sit and talk with them, and tell them about your adulthood and how things are there. They want to know if things changed and they... want to help you too just by listening and being there. It's like you two keep working together as a team, and sustain each other. Be there for them too, I do think they need it a lot. Listen to them rant and talk, and do children stuff like playing or running. Take them with you in a field, sing, shout... make a flower crown or anything really.

And please, if your inner child feels scared sometimes, hug them (physically envision hugging them): remind them you can make it together as you always did. And you can always ask for support to some other adults too if it's too much for you as well. If you both feel lost at times, which is normal after all you had to go through, just talk and ask for support to adults. It's okay. We live in communities, we can ask others and be helped too. If you don't trust other adults to be able to help you, try to breathe and give them a chance. Not all the adults are like those you turned you down and couldn't support you or give you a stable fundation. Also, remember it's okay as adults too to not have all the answer and to not always be in control of everything. I know it feels so scary, but it's what life has to be like sometimes. Just do not let fear take control of you. Remember you can control your decisions and yourself anytime and anyway. Whatever happens. You can do it. You both can.

song: truth is | sabrina claudio

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 4

Your inner child loved adventure, playing with other kids, maybe dressing up as a pirate (for Carnival or not)... they also loved to read story or imaginging living in different worlds/times, being a hero or similar things. A very vivid imagination. I do believe they still love to watch animations, to draw, or to write stories (do you?). The life-of-the-party kid. Not necessaily had many friends, but just by mood they're always hyped and happy (unless they have to go to school? I heard so, lol. How can I blame them). Maybe had a tree house or favorite a hiding place, or could create one in their room/garden. Always busy creating something new, drawing, painting, running somewhere... such a funny exciting energy.

They are asking you to put down in words whatever is going on inside. Especially if you haven't been paying attention to your emotions and feelings. Take some time out and focus on you. Come back to your dear words, let the pen roll on the paper and write down it all. Be it in the form of a journal or a diary or a letter to someone (write a letter to them too, I totally feel like they want to listen to your story since you lost contacts -"but make it funny/adventurous"). Write, write it all until you can't no more, until you've written all you needed to and cannot think about anything else. Until you're so tired you need to go to sleep. And have a refreshing sleep then.

They are a bit concerned about you. They want you to know that they see how busy you are and that maybe you cannot connect with them too often, but they want you to remember that they're always by your side. They want you to remember how it feels to be free. To take time for yourself. It feels like you're ovewhelming yourself with things to do and this is causing you pain, inside out. They want you to take time out and meet with them so that they can take you on a pirate ship on adventure (may it even be doing chores in a different and more adventurous way, like dancing/singing, or better, trying to battle with "Captain Dust"... Idk, something like that, talk with your inner child :'D). Just create a safe space for you two to come together again, even just a few moments here and there during your week. You don't have to always be so serious and busy.

song: hope ur okay | olivia rodrigo

[tikosblogg]

HIDDEN HEARTS//PT 2.

Summary: love triangle? you grew up with folio, you are best friends. Both in very successful bands. folio tries to ignore his hidden feelings for you, especially when the one and only Noah Sebastian steals your heart.

Warnings: angst, lil make out sesh, nothing crazy.

A/N: welp I had ALOT of time on my hands today, SO here is part two! I’m so excited for this story, part three will more than likely be out tomorrow afternoon LOL. ALSO thank you all so much for the love and support you’re sending my way! It means the absolute world to me.❤️

I woke up the next morning, with a pep in my step. I am so excited about today. This song is fucking sick, and I can’t believe I get to sing it for the band. I walked to the closet picking out a hoodie and some sweats, throwing them on. Nick texted me that they were on their way 15 minutes ago. I have to make time today to sit and talk to him. I need to figure out what is going on. I didn’t bother fixing my hair, or putting on makeup, since I was going to get it done there anyways. I grabbed my belongings and walked out waiting for the guys to pull up.

Five minutes later, a black suv came pulling into the driveway. Jolly rolls his window down “get in loser, we’re going to shoot a music video.” He smiles at me, opening the door from the inside for me. I threw my head back with a laugh, at the mean girls reference. “Here you can sit next to Noah so he can talk your ear off about his anime show.” Jolly laughs moving to the third row of seats.

I slide in next to Noah, with a small smile. “We can change seats if you want, lungs” Nick suggests from the front passenger seat. “Oh it’s okay really, thanks nick.” I patted his shoulder, as he gave me a small nod turning back around as Ruffilo pulled out of the driveway. “You like anime?” Noah leans in and whispers, I let out a giggle nodding my head yes.

We pulled up to the set, a lot of cameras and people swarmed the area, some fans linger outside the building, waiting for Bad Omens to make an appearance. We pulled around back to a secluded area and made a beeline inside, straight to hair and makeup. The guys walked me to a room that had a whole vanity set up, and racks of clothing.

I said hello to my makeup and hair stylists for the day. They were really sweet women. The hair stylist Jenna, got to me first. She took the straightener to my long blonde hair, straightening it pin straight. She sprayed some texturizing spray, and hair spray to make sure it stayed put. Next Sarah came to do my makeup. It came out flawless. It looked almost eerie?

I’m supposed to be playing a rogue AI. It’s amazing seeing Noah’s vision come to life. I thanked them both, as a guy came in, and lead me to the racks of clothes. He pulled out a sheer white outfit. I took the outfit from him, sliding it on. The white long sleeve turtleneck was soft against my skin. I looked up towards the mirror, my tits clearly visible through the shirt.

I felt my cheeks flush. I’m not really embarrassed of my body, but I’ve never worn anything this sheer. I feel like I might as well be wearing plastic wrap as a shirt. I shook my nerves away, sliding into the bottom half. Thankfully they came with white underwear type bottoms. My most important bits, thankfully being covered. The man I learned who’s name is Jon walked back in, adjusting the outfit.

“Perfect, it looks amazing on you hon.” I smiled, thanking him as he walked me to set. When we entered, all the guys were standing around a big glass box. My eyes widened at how beautiful it looked. It was exactly like I pictured it when I was explaining it to Noah. There was a chair dead in the center of the glass case. The floor was covered in what looked like green moss.

I gasped when I saw the cutest Snow White bunny, sat in the corner of it. My sudden outburst caused all the guys to turn their attention to me. “Damn y/n….you look great!” Nick smiled, as I walked over to them. They all nodded in agreement, as I thanked them. I looked over at Noah, who was frozen still eyes glued to me. I gave him a small smile, getting worried that he hated it.

He cleared his throat, taking a step towards me. “Wow…you uh..you look amazing.” I could see a slight pink tint cover his cheeks, making my confidence shoot through the roof. Did I really just make him blush? Fuck yeah I did. “Thank you Noah.” We did what felt like hundreds of takes. Some in the glass case, and more on a gurney, and even the hallway.

After finishing them, Jon took me back to the dressing room grabbing me another outfit. He quickly shoved it into my arms making his way out of the room. “Change quickly hon, they need you back out there in 5.” He slammed the door behind him, as I stood there dumbfounded. I looked at the “outfit” in my hands, looking like a bunch of leather straps. “What in the hell?”

Well after 5 minutes, I finally got it on. Turning towards the mirror, I froze in horror. I thought the first outfit was bad….I look like I belong in hustlers magazine. This one piece was literally just straps. I twisted around in the mirror, looking at myself from every angle.

The bottoms were cut very high, my ass no doubt making its appearance. My tits barely fit into the top. My thoughts were interrupted when the dressing room door swung open. “Hey is everything-.” Noah walked in, pausing when he saw me. All of sudden I felt completely bare. I could feel my cheeks getting hot.

“Oh um yeah, sorry…couldn’t figure the uh…the straps out.” I stammered, awkwardly gesturing to my outfit. He said nothing, as he quietly shut the door behind him. I let out a half hearted chuckle, as he slowly stalked over to me. I could feel my heart pounding, the closer he got. He said nothing, stopping just in front of me.

I held my breath waiting for him to say something. We were so close to each other at this point, I could feel the heat emitting from his body. He slowly raised his hand, reaching for the strap at my hip untwisting it to lay properly against my skin. “There. You ready?” His voice was low, and husky. I nodded my head, afraid to even open my mouth, afraid of what would come out. He smiled, and I followed him out of the room back to set.

We finally finished up, at about 12am. All of us were exhausted, and ready for bed. We piled back into the suv, headed back to my place. This time Noah drove, and I sat in the very back with Nick. Noah had the radio playing, while jolly scrolled through his phone in the passenger seat, and Ruffilo was passed out against his window.

“Are you okay Nick? You’ve been acting weird for the past two days…did do I something?” He looked over at me, with his brows furrowed. “Of course not y/n. I’m sorry, I’ve just been a little stressed out is all.” I nodded my head, not really believing it. So I pushed a little further. “What’s got you so stressed?.”

He shook his head, looking down to his lap. “You know I love you right?” I smiled, bumping his shoulder with mine. “Of course, I love you too.” He nodded his head with a weak smile. “All I want is for you to be happy, no matter who it’s with.” I furrowed my brows confused, about to ask what he meant when jolly’s voice broke the silence of the car.

“Thank god, I’m so tired of being in this car.” Everyone agreed, as we all climbed out. “We still have to drive to our place dumbass.” Ruffilo laughed, as we entered my air bnb. They all looked rough. I felt bad for them, they still had a 30 minute drive home. “Why don’t you guys just crash here? There’s plenty of space.” I offered, and they all perked up. “Really? That’d be awesome actually.” Jolly said, slumping onto the couch.

I smiled, kicking my shoes off at the door. “Of course make yourself at home.” I walked back to my room, ridding my clothes and hopping in the shower. When I got out, I walked back to the living room to see jolly, and both nicks already passed out on the couches. I looked around, wondering where Noah was until I saw the sliding glass door to the patio slightly open.

I walked over to it, peering out seeing Noah on one of the couches, scrolling through his phone. “Hey…everything okay?” His head shot up, his lips forming a smile. “Yeah, I just can’t sleep. Too much going on in here.” He tapped the side of his skull, setting his phone down on the little coffee table in front of him. I nodded in understanding, stepping out and shutting the door behind me.

“Want some company?” I asked, standing to the side, waiting for an answer before I just plopped down beside him, not wanting to invade his space. He nodded his head, and patted the spot next to him. I sat down, criss crossing my legs to get comfortable. He was the first to break the silence. We talked for a while, about anything and everything. Just enjoying each others presence.

“You did great today y/n, I know this video is going to be amazing. Your creativity is mind blowing. I loved all your ideas, they really helped bring it all together.” I blushed at his praises, looking down at my lap. “Thank you Noah, you too. I can’t tell you how much I love the song. The visions you have for this whole album are fucking sick.” He laughed, thanking me.

“Did you like the wardrobe choices? Sorry if they were a little much.” He smiled, looking over at me. “I was a little caught off guard honestly, but looking back now I think they were pretty badass. I think I did them justice.” I laughed jokingly, looking over at him, when I didn’t hear him laughing with me. He was staring with a serious expression, making me nervous all over again.

“You looked amazing y/n.” I don’t even know who leaned in first, but before I knew it his lips softly grazed mine. I threw caution to the wind, and leaned the rest of the way in. It started off innocent, our lips just pressed together in a simple kiss. We slightly pulled away, our foreheads still touching. Both our breathing turned heavy, as his hand came up grabbing my cheek and pulling me in for another. This time was faster, and more rushed.

I felt his teeth nip my bottom lip, and I opened up to let his tongue slip inside. He pulled my body closer to him, as our tongues softly played with each other. A soft whimper left my mouth, bringing me back to reality. I jerked away, quickly standing from my seat. “Fuck Noah. I’m so sorry….I shouldn’t of…fuck.” I quickly turned around, headed back inside. “Wait y/n-“

I slid the door closed, and beelined for my room. Fuck! What did I do? This is not a good idea. I like Noah so much, so fucking much but I’m terrified of causing issues in the band. Nick is my best friend, I don’t ever want to jeopardize his career, or any of theirs for that matter. Noah is one of his best friends, It just feels so wrong. My feelings for Noah are so strong, but my love for Nick and our friendship mean more. I have to do what’s right…stay as far away from Noah as possible.