#but it gives me a moment for myself where I can contemplate eating the pieces

[kleefkruid]

Going hard this New Year’s Eve

[the-green-ravenclaw]

Magical Music pt 2

Relationship: Ominis x f!reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warning: Fluff

Notes: Characters aged up, so don't make it weird! The song that inspired this on is called Butterfly Waltz, it's so beautiful and I couldn't help it!

Read part 1 here

When you woke in the morning on Saturday you immediately started getting ready for your outing to Hogsmeade, you hadn't discussed a time to leave, so you wanted to be ready whenever he was. Walking into the common room you saw Ominis by the windows that look into the black lake, Sebastian standing next to him, whispering something into his ear.

Sebastian made eye contact with you a moment later and straightened as you started walking towards them. He met you halfway and stopped you, "take this how you will, but if you try anything funny, or hurt him in any way-"

"I'm not sure what gives you the impression that I'm that deplorable a person, but I have no plans of imposing myself on him in any way." You interrupted him sharply, your eyes never leaving Ominis' face. It didn't seem like he could hear your conversation, but you were still cautious. "If you're going to be so worried, why don't you come with us?"

Sebastian eyed you for a moment, contemplating the idea, "no, I'll trust you for now. But, my threat, though unfinished, is still relevant." With that he walked away.

You finished crossing the room to Ominis, he picked up on your presence quickly, "ah, good morning y/n. How are you?" He smiled lightly at you.

You couldn't help but smile back at him. "Oh, I'm fine. And yourself?"

"I am well. Though I wish I could have gotten more sleep, Sebastian kept me up half the night with his snoring.." You giggled as he let out a small chuckle himself. "I'll be fine though, shall we head out now? Make the most of the day?"

"Sure, if you're ready."

-

On the way to Hogsmeade the two of you discussed the other music pieces you know individually and found out you had some overlapping ones. "I am so excited to see if there are any pieces available in the shop that you already know!" You were practically skipping, your excitement was so strong.

"Are you sure you don't want to just play a piece we both already know?" Ominis was trying to keep up with you without running, it wasn't working well and he was getting winded.

You slowed down to let him catch up, "No, where's the fun in that?" He tilted his head towards you in curiosity. "Learning something new is always fun, especially new music! And, since you already know the piano part, if I get anything wrong you should be able to help me with it."

He smiled sweetly and nodded at you, "alright then."

-

You managed to find a few new pieces of music that Ominis knew and one you knew but for the piano. After purchasing them you two headed to the Three Broomsticks to grab lunch and go over the music together.

"This piece seems relatively easy for the piano, am I correct in assuming the same for the violin?" Ominis asked as you hummed out the notes for him.

"It can be, if you practice it enough. Though, that's probably how every musician feels." You flipped through some of the other music sheets in front of you, getting slightly lost in one particular piece. Looking over the notes while mentally playing your violin.

You had apparently started humming it as Ominis' voice softly came from beside you, "it's a slow piece, but it sounds nice on the piano at least. I'm quite excited to hear you play it. It's rare I've ever heard a violin play, let alone a piece I know well like this one."

"I'm excited to try these out as well! Should we finish eating and head back soon then?" You put down the papers and started eating again.

"Yes, that sounds good. But, where are we going to practice?" His question struck you like a ton of bricks.

"Oh.. Shoot! I didn't think of that. Maybe the music room? Since it's the weekend there shouldn't be anyone in there." You both mulled over the option before deciding that was the best, and only option.

-

Once in the music room Ominis started fiddling with the piano, making sure it was in tune and everything sounded proper. "Hey, Ominis, can you play the song for me first before I try it out?"

"Absolutely." That was all he said before he delicately started playing, it was amazing to see him play everything so fluidly from memory. The song was slow and sounded somber with just the piano.

You listened to his playing while reading the notes you were supposed to be playing along with him. As much as you genuinely just wanted to listen to the song you couldn't help the itch to play, to learn. You slowly leaned into the music, Ominis picked up on it instantly, almost as if he was expecting it.

Playing in tandem with him felt so natural, it was exhilarating, but you quelled that excitement as the song wasn't supposed to be fast. Ominis took a moment close to the end to just listen to you play, a beautiful sound on its own, light and lilting. He joined back in for the last few notes and the song ended.

"Even without you playing the whole song it sounded completely different than when I play by myself." He looked almost sad as he processed the song with the sound of your violin.

"Should we play it again? I think I've got it pretty well, even though I only played half of it." With a nod from Ominis you started up the song again. It seemed to just flow from the both of you effortlessly, leaving you both breathless at the end, not from effort, from amazement at each other's playing. "Ominis, why do you stop right before the end?"

"That's how the song is supposed to be for the piano part. I always wondered why, and I suppose now I know." He turned to face towards you with a smile and a blush. "It's like your own little moment to shine."

The blush was contagious with his words. "Aren't you two just so sweet?" Sebastian's voice came from behind you, startling you and Ominis both.

You stumbled back slightly and ended up sitting on the bench on the platform just below Ominis. "Goodness, Sebastian, you scared the snot out of me! What are you doing here?"

"I was just walking around and heard some music, so I came to investigate." He shrugged as he moved further into the room.

"Just walking around my arse. You were spying." Ominis' voice was harsh from above you, making you jump slightly. Ominis grabbed his wand and moved to be on the same level as the two of you. "Why are you spying, Sebastian? I told you I'd be fine today, and I have been."

"Well, I see that now. I guess I'll take my leave." He turned and started heading toward the door, turning his head slightly back to you, "by the way, that sounded good. You should play it in the common room for everyone soon." With that he left, closing the door behind him.

"A seal of approval from him if I've ever heard one." Ominis sat down beside you as he talked. "Your playing was indeed remarkable, especially for it being the first time playing the song."

"I learned how to read sheet music when I was young for competitions, so learning new songs isn't too bad, but it still takes a while to memorize it." As you rambled Ominis angled himself towards you, he was listening intently, but you could see something hidden in his features, like a twinkle in his eyes, making them look opalescent. "Ominis?"

"I know you told Sebastian you hadn't planned on imposing yourself on me in any way, and I appreciate that. But, I had just about every intention of getting as close as I could to you today." His face flushed crimson.

"O-Ominis.. I-" You face felt hot and you were sure your cheeks were as red as his.

"Your playing is beautiful, as is your voice. I've been entranced by you for some time, but I never had the courage to approach you." He grabbed for your hand that was sitting on your lap.

"Not enough courage to approach the person that sits alone in every room she's in?" You shifted slightly to be closer to him, welcoming any move he decided to take.

"More shy than uncourageous I suppose. Having you suddenly open a door for conversation by playing your violin with me a few days ago truly helped." He inched closer to you, "and now here we are, having a great trip to Hogsmeads, finding music, eating lunch, learning songs together. We've learned a decent amount about each other on our walks, and I'd like to learn more about you, but first, I'd really like to kiss you, if you're alright with that?"

You inch closer to him, doing your best to close the gap, "I've been admiring you from afar as well, but you're always around Sebastian, and the thought of approaching you both at the same time was incredibly intimidating. But, I'm glad for the time we've spent together as well, it's been incredibly fun, and I'd love to spend more time with you, especially after this-" you cut yourself off by closing the gap further and pressing your lips against his.

He flinches slightly but welcomes your lips eagerly after a second. He cups your cheek with his other hand, feeling your features slightly as he deepens the kiss. The kids lasted as long as you could handle it before you realized you were breathing, breaking away had you both breathing heavily, it seemed he had forgotten to breathe as well.

"Why is everything about you so exhilarating?" You laughed the words through your deep breaths, still trying to regulate yourself.

He chuckled as you spoke, "I could say the same to you, you keep impressing me." You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. He in turn, rested his head on your own. "This has been a wonderful day." You hummed in agreement, rubbing your thumb over his hand, he squeezed yours lightly. "I could stay like this forever."

"I'd like that as well. But, I do believe we had made assurances of another performance in the common room soon, we should probably continue practicing soon." Ominis grumbled a bit as he reached back up to your jaw, pulling your face up to meet his.

"Very well then," he pulled you in to another kiss, slowly letting you go after a moment, almost regretfully. "Shall we continue, butterfly?"

I hope you all enjoyed! Constructive criticism is always welcome!

[akocomyk]

November Weekend

2022's 2nd Most Memorable Moment

Nothing beats a day well-spent with the people you love—except maybe a memory that’s made so much impact in your life, nothing else that happened after that could be more memorable. Hence, this three-day event is only the runner-up of the year.

The following song was originally meant as an allusion to drugs. In a certain point of view, love is like a drug. It makes you feel good. It can liberate you. It’s more fun if you’re enjoying it with someone special. Ultimately, too much of it can kill you.

Nevertheless, the right amount of love is just perfect.

Last November, I posted three photo collages following the same visual theme. I did so because I knew right then that those days were one of the best memories I’ve had last year—if not the best—and it’s just interesting that they all happened consecutively.

I contemplated hard within myself if I should give this the top spot or not—obviously, the other memory won.

November 11

We were supposed to celebrate this day back on October 7, few days after our anniversary. Gerald was unfortunately sick that time, much to our dismay, and we couldn’t schedule at an earlier date because he wanted to focus on reviewing for his licensure exam.

It was a good decision, though. Having it in November made it a double celebration—our anniversary and him passing his exam.

We had a staycation at a cheap hotel somewhere in Pasay. It had a swimming pool on the roof deck.

We ate a lot—Manam, Greenwich, hotel food—and we played Nintendo.

November 12

After checking out from the hotel, we went to SM Mall of Asia where my sister joined us. We watched Black Panther: Wakanda Forever.

November 13

Wilma and I went to the Pintô Art Museum in Antipolo, Rizal. We ate breakfast there—pizza and pasta.

She was astounded at how quickly I roamed around the galleries—she expected me to observe longer than she and Jemar did when they visited the museum, knowing the artistic person that I am.

Don’t get me wrong. I love viewing art. Not to say anything bad about the artists who made the pieces, but I think the museum was just too cluttered—it didn’t give the pieces the ample space they deserve. I was just looking everywhere and I’m like, “Why are these displayed like this???” 

It’s difficult to appreciate a work of art if everything surrounding it is trying to grab your attention. Having said that, I still gave some time to appreciate and try to interpret some of them if they were given enough space and justice—or if I find the piece very intriguing.

So for me, the museum itself—its galleries, the collection of pieces from the different artists, and everything that makes up the whole place—is the artwork. The obra maestra of the museum's owner.

Going back to our story... We went to a nearby café right after. She had coffee and I had a calamansi juice—if I remember correctly.

Then we headed back to Cavite to grab my keyboard from her house, then to Marjette’s house to eat dinner—it was the feast day of Cavite City.

November 14 (just some extra)

Wilma was in Cavite City once more and wanted to pass the time to wait for the traffic to ease—there was heavy traffic outbound from the city. She invited us for dinner, only I responded, so we ate at Papa Chon’s Ribs and Wings.

[idkxwriting]

Could you please do a smutty fluffy oneshot where the reader is a witch and meets Elijah (around when he first appears on TVD, before Damon daggers him) and they're drawn to one another. And despite Damon not trusting him (he can be jealous if you wanna add that) the reader decides to invite Elijah into her home and get to know him. They bond, kiss, and do the sexy times. Also I think it would be cute if he said something about feeling alive with her for the first time in centuries.

“You did what!?” Damon stood in your doorway, his icy stare enough to make most people reconsider.

But you weren’t most people.

“I know what I’m doing, Damon,” you rolled your eyes and turned away from him only to find him in front of you once more.

Anger burned in his eyes, and you knew for a man with very little patience to begin with that you were pushing your luck. "Really? Because it sounds like to me you just invited Elijah Mikaelson for dinner."

You shrugged. "And a drink."

“You invited a vampire over for a drink?” His eyes narrowed. "You do hear yourself, right?" He snapped.

“Not that kind of drink," you were exasperated.

"I can't protect you from him," Damon growled.

"And I'm not asking you to," you countered. "I can protect myself." As you stepped around him once more, you felt the rage rolling off of him in waves. You knew Damon well, so you anticipated his next move, bringing your hand up and summoning your magic to drop him to his knees before he could attack.

Damon cried out, gripping his head in pain. You had never had an aneurysm personally, but you could only assume it was excruciating. You decided he had enough, releasing him. He panted, the pain subsiding as his body healed.

"See?" You smirked.

He glared at you, and you knew that had you been anyone else, you'd likely be dead - whether that was because of you were a witch or because Damon had a soft spot for you, you couldn’t decide. "I don't trust him."

You shrugged. "Well I do."

"Why!?"

"I can't explain it, Damon," you sighed. "There's something about him...I feel like I need to do this. Like I'm being drawn to him, and I need to figure out what that means."

Damon opened his mouth to argue when you cut him off.

"All I’m asking you to do is trust me."

He scoffed. "Maybe if you didn't make such colossally stupid decisions..."

You raised your brows at him. "I haven’t been on your case about you being drawn to Elena, have I?”

He narrowed his eyes.

“Exactly.”

He looked at you incredulously. "Elena isn't plotting our deaths..."

"Elena is alive because Elijah wants it that way. And he's saved your life what? Three times now?"

Damon rolled his eyes. "And what about when he decides he no longer needs Elena alive? Or me?"

You didn't have an answer for that - only a gut feeling. "We're missing something, Damon. I can't explain it, I just know I need to do this..."

He nodded, knowing you were stubborn and there was no changing your mind. He sighed heavily, walking over to a bookcase and pulling out a very large, very old book. The leather spine cracked as he opened it to reveal the pages had been hollowed out, and he took out an object wrapped in a white cloth. "Then here, take this."

You stepped towards him, and as he unwrapped it, you realized it was the dagger, a small jar of ash from the white oak tree beside it. "Damon..."

He shook his head, his face sullen. "Y/N, I've been around long enough to know when I'm fighting a losing battle with you. And if you're going to insist on being this stupid," he held the dagger out to you. "I at least need to know you have a backup plan."

You nodded, dipping the dagger in the ash before placing it carefully into your jacket. "I have to go," you whispered.

He rolled his eyes. "Wouldn't want to keep him waiting..."

*****

You paced in your kitchen, suddenly nervous as you waited for Elijah to arrive.

You couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. Sure, he was attractive, and his charm was refined, but there was something more. A gravity pulling you into him that you couldn't seem to escape.

Maybe Damon was right, maybe this was crazy. Elijah wasn't exactly safe - you had no reason to trust him. You considered the dagger hidden in your sweater, feeling as if even having it in your possession was a betrayal. Still, you weren't sure where the sense of loyalty came from. Before you could think on it any longer, you took it out.

A gentle knock alerted you to his arrival, and you panicked, shoving the dagger in the knife drawer before making your way to the front door. You looked yourself over once more, fixing your hair and wiping your palms on your thighs.

You took a deep breath, steeling your nerves. You swung the door open, the air leaving your lungs as you took in the sight of him.

He stood in a pristine suit. He oozed confidence, but the hint of a smile he offered you was reserved. His eyes were warm, and as they traced over you you felt the heat rise to your cheeks.

“Good evening, Y/N.”

You managed a breathy hi in response, and swallowed, leaning up against the door for balance as you felt the familiar pull. You waited for a moment and he let out a soft chuckle.

“Are you going to invite me in?” He asked calmly.

You shook your head, as if clearing the fog. “Right, yea, of course...sorry...” you muttered. “Elijah,” your eyes met his, a heaviness settling over the two of you, as if the invitation wasn’t just into your home, but your life. “Would you like to come in?”

He unbuttoned his jacket, placing his hands in his pockets as he stepped over the threshold with ease.

He maneuvered with a gracefulness you could never hope to possess and you were mesmerized with each movement. He stepped into your space, crowding you and making you realize you hadn’t backed up to give him room. He looked down at you, and your breath hitched at being so close to him.

His smile was knowing and soft, like he was holding something back. As if he had a secret. He took a deep breath, his eyes tracing your neck. “It smells delicious.”

You froze, unsure if you had made a mistake. Still, something in you stirred though, a curiosity that had you wanting to offer him everything.

“Are we having Italian?” He asked with a smirk.

You bit your lip, glad that his teasing broke the tension. “Umm, yea,” you laughed before remembering the oven. “Shit!”

You rushed to the kitchen, Elijah forgotten for a moment as you tried to save the lasagna you had slaved over. You grabbed pot holders, tearing the oven open and pulling out the ceramic dish. In your hurry you lost your grip, and it fell to the floor.

Elijah hadn’t been quick enough to save your grandmother’s recipe, or maybe it wasn’t where his priority had been, but he had rushed in, spinning you away from the scalding hot dish that splattered before you could even process what had happened.

In his movements you had lost your balance, but he steadied you, pulling you into him. You had your hands on his chest. Your gazes locked, his breath mingling with yours as he straightened up, steadying you with ease before releasing his grip on you.

Your hands remained on his chest for a moment longer before you stepped away from him. “Thank you,” you whispered before turning to see the damage. Tomato sauce was all over your kitchen floor, and you were grateful he had saved you from a burn. You should have been upset that you had nothing to offer him for dinner, but you began to laugh. It was soft at first, and he watched you in amusement as it bubbled up, tears building in your eyes. “I’m sorry,” you howled. “But I slaved over this all afternoon...and you don’t even eat.”

He chuckled at that, and you grinned at the sound.

“You’re a vampire, and I know it’s just a myth, but that thing is loaded with garlic. Kind of funny...”

The irony wasn’t lost on him, but he was distracted, taken with how carefree you seemed. Something he was not used to humans being in his presence. You were so alive, something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Until recently.

“Perhaps some wine,” he grinned.

The sight was enough to pull you from your fit of giggles, and you knew you’d do almost anything to pull that smile from him again. “Okay,” you agreed. You stooped down, using the pot holders to pick up the dish and dump it in the sink to be dealt with later. “You get the wine, I’ll clean this up,” you opened the closet, pulling out your mop.

He had offered to help, but you insisted, so he dug out a bottle of merlot from your cabinet while you made quick work of cleaning up the sauce.

“Do you have a bottle opener?” He asked, examining the label.

You placed the mop in the corner, it would need to be cleaned out, but it could wait. You glanced over your shoulder. “Second drawer to your right,” you replied as you moved to get wine glasses.

His movements stilled, and when you turned you found him holding the dagger in his hand, his eyes searching yours. “Tell me, Y/N,” he spoke slowly and deliberately. “What exactly did you have planned this evening?”

You moved next to him, pouring the wine and offering a glass to him.

He considered you for a moment, before taking the glass and placing the dagger on the counter between the two of you, the hilt facing you. If you wanted to, you could reach it with ease, and maybe he’d be quick enough, but something in you told you he wouldn’t stop you. Whatever your next move was, he was leaving it entirely up to you.

He sipped his wine in quiet contemplation, waiting for you to make your decision.

You opened the knife drawer, placing the bottle opener back inside. You picked up the dagger, twirling it in your fingers for a moment before placing it back where he had found it. You looked up at him, his head was cocked, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. “Dinner, drinks...pleasant conversation. Of course, that was before I ruined the dinner,” you added.

His eyes narrowed, as if he were trying to piece you together. “Perhaps,” he said. “However I believe we’ve remedied the drinks.”

“And the conversation?” You asked. He grinned again, and your heart pounded at the sight. He was achingly beautiful.

“I find conversation is almost always pleasant with you,” he admitted softly.

You took a sip of your wine. “Almost always?” You questioned.

He shrugged, a levity behind his eyes. “I believe you told me to...what was it?” He made a show of pretending to comb through his memories and you winced. “Go fuck myself, was it?”

The curse sounded foreign from his lips, as if something so crude didn’t belong coming from someone so noble, and you couldn’t help but chuckle in embarrassment. “To be fair, you were threatening my friend...”

He nodded, his tongue darting out and wetting his lips. You followed the movement. “Ahh yes, Damon Salvatore,” there was a hint of distaste in his voice, but you didn’t press the issue. After all, the feeling was mutual. “For all of his flaws I can see he cares about you.”

You nodded. “He’s my best friend,” you offered.

“And yet you’re here with me. I assume Damon provided the dagger.”

“He’s just looking out for me.”

He nodded at that, and you wondered if there was a hint of respect there. “He protects those he loves...”

“One of those qualities that keeps me hanging around,” you shrugged.

He took another sip. “Tell me, what is keeping you here with me?”

A heaviness settled between you as you considered your answer. “Gravity,” you breathed. You weren’t sure why you had made that confession, but something about the way he looked at you told you that he could be trusted. That he’d protect you, too. “It’s like every time I try to put some distance between us, I am pulled back in even further,” your voice was a whisper. “What is that?” You blushed, turning away and sipping at your wine.

“Gravity,” he repeated as though trying it on.

Your eyes shot to his again, and you found yourself inching closer in a trance. You were pulled out of the moment when your stomach rumbled loudly. Your face flushed. “Sorry,” you chuckled.

He straightened his posture, leaving space between you once more. “Let’s find you something to eat, shall we?”

You beamed as he took off his suit jacket, rolling up his sleeves and getting to work, rifling through your fridge. He ignored your protests, insisting that in all of his years he has managed to learn a thing or two, and that you had already slaved over one dinner. Now it was his turn. So you did as he said, and sat at the island, watching him work.

He asked you about your family, and you told him about your hometown. How moving to Mystic Falls hadn’t been so bad. You laughed as you told him about your siblings and the time you had gotten grounded for stealing your parents car. You told him how your mother had taught you magic, and how it had come from her mother before her.

As you ate he shared about the places he had traveled, how his time in New Orleans had felt the most like home and he’d like to return someday. He promised to take you to Paris, and told you how he had missed his baby sister.

And suddenly you realized that this Original that everyone had feared, this legend, was still just a man somehow. A man with regrets and dreams. A man who has suffered great loss throughout lifetimes, and your heart swelled. You got the sense as he talked that he saw himself as a monster, and it broke you inside a little. You suddenly couldn’t reconcile the monster he saw with the man you were getting to know. You only saw Elijah.

Maybe it was that realization, or the wine. Perhaps a combination of the two, but as he stood to clear your plate, you placed your hand on his wrist. He paused and you stood, moving into him. Slowly you inched closer, your eyes searching his for any signal that you may be unwelcome before they fluttered shut. You placed your lips against his delicately. His lips were soft and he stilled, breathing you in.

The kiss was brief, but you remained close, your faces almost touching and your breaths mingling before you pulled back and smiled. “Gravity,” you whispered.

When he didn’t respond you pulled away, clearing your throat. “Sorry, I just...”

His hand on your elbow cut you off, and he spun you back into his chest, his other hand brushing the hair from your face. His eyes searched yours. “Y/N,” he whispered. “I haven’t felt this alive in centuries,” he admitted softly.

You fisted your hands in his shirt, your body pleading for him to move.

As with all things Elijah (you had come to learn over the last few weeks) he was deliberate and controlled. He leaned in slowly, tasting your lips once more, and pulling a soft hum from you. He pulled back to look at you, his secret smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Gravity,” he said again.

And then he was moving, his lips crashing into yours, all hints of carefulness dissipated as his tongue begged for entrance. You opened to him, and he kissed you greedily, the taste of wine on his tongue. His hands traced your curves, and you were surprised when you found yourself pressed to the wall in your living room. His strength excited you, and you noted his restraint. You hitched a leg up, and he held it up, wrapping it around himself as he pressed into you.

You moaned, and he released you then, his mouth tracing a path down your neck. Your hands ran through his hair, running down the back of his neck, your fingertips desperately seeking. You traced along his shoulders to his chest, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt.

You pulled, untucking it from his belt and pushing it down his shoulders, desperate to feel him. Your hands roamed the hard muscle of his chest, but it wasn’t enough.

He pulled away, discarding his shirt before stripping you of your sweater. He took in the sight of your breasts greedily, and you were grateful you thought to wear the black lace bra. He traced his fingers along the edge of the fabric, and you yelped when he suddenly pulled, tearing the scrap of lace from your body.

You would have been annoyed that he had ruined your favorite bra if his mouth hadn’t latched on to your chest, his tongue tracing your nipple. His teeth grazing, dancing the line between pleasure and pain.

You arched your back, your hips searching, and once again he moved you, his hand cradling your head as you found yourself on your back on the couch. He rose up, eager to look at you, take you all in as he hiked your skirt up above your thighs.

His gaze burnt a trail into your skin, the blush rising as he watched you. Still, you didn’t shy away, letting him drink it all in. Your hips rose on their own volition, desperate and searching for purchase.

He clenched his jaw, and he traced his fingers along your panties. You whimpered beneath him, and even as you slammed your eyes shut you could tell he was cataloging the ways you reacted to him.

“Elijah,” you cried, sitting up on your elbows.

He leaned forward, kissing you again, tasting you. He pushed your panties aside his fingers teasing your folds and you cried out. He smiled, and you felt like you were in on his secret now, privy to a piece of himself he didn’t often share.

He swallowed your moans as he worked you, pressing one, then two fingers into you. He groaned at the tightness. His tongue traced your throat and you dug your nails into his back as he used his thumb to work your clit.

You gripped his arm desperately with one hand, the other tangling in his hair - your body tightening as you felt your orgasm building.

“Please,” you begged, reaching for his belt.

He sat up once more, making quick work of his belt and zipper, releasing himself before leaning back down, desperate to be close to you. He pressed into you, and you both groaned at the contact, a wave of relief washing over you both before he began to move.

He hitched your leg up, pressing himself deeper into you and you writhed beneath him. You met every thrust, slamming your eyes shut at the pure ecstasy that was Elijah. He held himself up with one arm, his other hand tracing your throat. You hoped there’d be more of this, that you would have time to give him everything.

He began to thrust harder, and he brought his thumb to your clit once more, rubbing deliciously as he filled you.

He sat up, pulling you with him so you straddled him, his thumb still teasing your clit as you rode him. He buried his face in your chest, kissing every inch of skin he could find. You bounced on him, chasing your orgasm wildly. You rose and rose, feeling like you were floating until suddenly you exploded. You cried out, and he followed you over the edge. He worked you through it, taking in every way you moved as you came.

You came back down softly, Elijah pulling you in, his gravity keeping you in his orbit.

He chuckled quietly against your throat, his voice deep and wrecked. “Does that happen often?”

You opened your eyes to ask him what he meant only to find you had shattered the bulbs in the house, your residual magic released and leaving you in a blackout. You laughed then, the movement quickly rippling into aftershocks of pleasure. “No,” you panted. “Never.” You leaned back to look at him.

Even in the dark you could see his secret smile. “We may need to get you a flashlight,” he teased.

You shook your head. “Mmm,” you hummed. “I’ve got it.” You closed your eyes, concentrating when suddenly all of the candles in the room lit up.

Your eyes met his in the flicker of light, and you leaned down in a languid kiss.

“Gravity,” he growled against your lips.

[myheelsdontmatchmysweatpants]

A/N: I would like to preface this by letting everyone know that I am in no way knowledgeable about actual science things. That being said I am amazed that in a random draw I actually managed to get a prompt that had to do with flowers lol. This is my contribution to the BakuHarem Collab! Please take a second to check out the other contributions here!

Warning: bad science, no protection, swearing, overs!mulation, accidental exhibti0som, intoxicated smut? idk sex pollen is a drug i guess.....

W/C: 3.5k

“Bakugou, dude. We should not-”

“Shut up Kirishima!” Bakugou walks through the sterile hallways checking every corner for signs of other people. “That bitch took my top spot with some bullshit flowers?!” He finally gets to the lab that was granted to you for your research. After winning first place, stealing first place in the UA university science expo. He walks into the observing lobby, looking through the large window to make sure you weren’t working in the lab after hours.

“Just keep quiet and listen for any one coming this way.” He walks over to the security door and holds his key card up to it, the light on the scanner turns green and he hears the dead bolt slide open.

Kirishima is lingering behind him, hovering in the doorway. He turns to Bakugou to talk him out of this again but his friend has already entered the lab. “Ahh geez.” He didn’t even wear any safety gear.

As the door clicks shut behind him, Bakugou stops to examine the lab. Several different species of flowers in full bloom behind temperature controlled enclosures. Some of them are recognizable; lavender, chamomile, and jasmine. “I thought it would smell like the perfume department, this fuckin place smells like heaven.” Guess it wasn’t a new shampoo she was using then.

He walks through the aisles turning his head this way and that, trying to find something, anything that he can fuck up without it being overtly obvious. He gets to the back corner of the lab and sees a piece of familiar equipment. “Perfect.”

*****

“He said WHAT?!”

Your roommate flinches at your reaction to her news. “He told Professor Aizawa that your ‘Viagra flowers’ are a joke to the science department and they should ‘wither and die’.”

You’re fuming. That fuck tard Bakugou, mister my shit don’t stink is ridiculing my research? “All that man knows is how to blow shit up! Just cause I beat him in the expo this year, he thinks my research is a joke?!” You stand up from the couch, pacing in front of it and you can’t decide whether to scream or cry. “Why did I ever like that twat?”

Cause he has wide shoulders, big hands and scarlet eyes that -

“Oh for the love of god shut up.” Screw your inner thoughts.

Ochako watches you pace, worrying in her eyes when yours line with silver and your neck flushes bright red. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you that.”

You stop moving and look at her, guilt flooding through you as she slumps forward. “Don’t apologize, I was talkin to myself babe.” She nods her head weakly and you stand up straight “I’m gonna go.” You walk to the door grabbing your coat and key card.

“W-where are you going?” Ochako follows you to the door and grabs your wrist gently. You turn to her and smile, she was always so sweet but you knew that if shit went down she would be right beside you, kicking ass.

“I need to blow off some steam, so I’m gonna go check on my ‘Viagra flowers’.” She huffs a laugh and let's go.

“Alright, don’t stay too late.”

You nod, put on your shoes and leave the dorm. It’s a bit of a walk to the building the lab is in and hopefully the cool breeze will calm your mind.

*****

As you walk into the building you are grateful that your professor is more of a night owl than most students. Considering how many naps he takes during lectures it is no wonder he can’t sleep at night. You contemplate going to his office to say hi but think better of it.

Don’t wanna end up venting about Bakugou to my professor of all people.

You walk down the hallway and notice the door to your lab is cracked. Not unusual, a lot of students from your class have been coming and going to see the different species of flowers and plants you are growing. Assuming someone didn’t shut the door behind them you take your phone out of your pocket to check the time. Out of the corner of your vision a quick flash of red and you walk right into Kirishima, Bakugou’s friend and one of your classmates.

“Hey! How- how's it goin?”

You take a step back, rubbing your nose from face planting into his giant chest. Does this guy eat boulders for breakfast? “Hey Kiri! Just gonna do some late night tests! You checkin out my garden?”

“Yeah! Flowers are pretty.” He laughs, it’s high pitched and obviously forced.

You take in his nervous appearance, the fact that he is still standing in front of the door and your mood sours.

“Where is he?”

Kirishima looks like he is gonna try and stall but one look at the fury in your eyes and his head hangs down. “He’s in the lab,” you rush past him and punch in the code to open the door. “I tried to talk him out of it!”

The door clicks shut and the spiky blonde huffs in annoyance somewhere in the back of the lab.

“I told you shitty hair, if you’re gonna keep a look out you have to stand outside.”

You clear your throat and his head shoots up. You walk over to him, taking note of all of the plants and equipment, taking note of anything that looks different. As you get closer to him you notice that he smells particularly good tonight.

Keep it in your pants idiot

“Really Bakugou?” You stop a few steps away from him, noticing the various disassembled parts on the counter top behind him. “What were you gonna do, break my extraction equipment and make it look like a malfunction? Are you a B-Movie villain?”

He stands up and you are reminded of how small you feel next to him, wide shoulders, arms barely fitting the t-shirt he was wearing, strong chest that tapers to a toned waist. He laughs and you look at his face. What I wouldn’t give to just lick from your navel to your neck.

“A B-Movie villain huh? That’s rich coming from the fanfiction cliché scientist.” He crosses his arms, your eyes quickly dart to the sight of his biceps flexing with the movement then back at him.

“Fanfiction cliché? What the actual fuck are you talking about?” You take another step towards him, softly inhaling his scent. Why does he smell so good?

He laughs at you again, the sound caresses your skin and you realize your feeling very, very hot. You drag your fingers through your hair, your eyes zeroing in on a bead of sweat running down the side of his face. When you lick your lips and shift to take another step closer a small part of your brain connects the dots. “What. Did. You. Do?”

Bakugou looks at you, noticing your flushed cheeks and eyes that show you aren’t quite your normal smart and sexy self. Reaching behind himself you hear the unmistakable sound of clinking glass, he grabs a beaker, an open beaker. “Just grabbed this from your equipment, I know how long it takes to extract this stuff. Would suck if it were to suddenly go missing.”

“You idiot! Do you know how potent it is in that form?!” You reach for it but he pulls the beaker out of your reach. “Why do you think I keep it enclosed? You have to close it up now!”

“Why should I?”

Honestly how stupid can this guy get?!

“Put it back in the enclosure first and I’ll explain it to you!” Your breathing is getting heavy, the closer you get to Bakugou the hotter your body feels. You lunge for him again and trip, he hurries to put the beaker on the table behind him and catch you. Put off balance from the position you both crash to the floor with him underneath you. Sighing in frustration you lift yourself up only to bump your head on the table, knocking over the beaker and spilling the extract over you both.

“Shit!” You scramble off of him and run to the door, pressing the exposure button and effectively locking it. You turn to Bakugou and back up trying your best to keep your distance. “Stay on that side of the room, if we’re far enough apart the effects won’t be as bad.”

“What are the effects?” The question is spoken so calmly that you almost convince yourself he didn’t speak at all.

“What are the fucking side effects!?” His shirt is soaked, sticking to his tanned skin. The outline of his chiseled body makes your mouth go dry. You look back at his face, his mouth twisted in frustration at your silence but no less attractive. The sharp angle of his jawline, pink lips slightly chapped, aristocratic nose, scarlet eyes that-

“Take a picture, it'll last longer.” Shaking your head to clear some of the fog in your brain, you focus on him again.

“It’s an aphrodisiac so obviously it enhances sexual desire.”

“Yeah-yeah, sex pollen I get it. But what else?” he rings out the bottom of his shirt, lifting it slightly and you avert your eyes.

“It is not sex pollen, I don’t even use the pollen of the plant.” the last part coming out in a mumble. “The aphrodisiac only works on people who are consenting adults that are attracted to each other.” You clear your throat.

Bakugou freezes for a moment and looks up at you, examining you. The flushed skin, short breaths, and how you keep as much distance between the two of you as the small lab provides.

“So why are you so far away then?” The smirk on his face is sinful as all hell.

Cheeky bastard.

“Surely I don’t have to spell it out for you.” Resisting the urge to turn your face away from him like a pouty child..

“HA!” The smug look on his face momentarily lifts the cloud of lust and replaces it with anger. “Of course you’re attracted to me, who wouldn’t be?”

“Well, aren't you a cocky bastard?” Hoping you're not about to embarrass yourself you take a chance and muster up some courage. Slowly walking up to him you notice that his forehead is glistening with sweat, his breathing heavy, ears and back of his neck flushed with pink. “Tell me, Katsuki. How are you feeling?”

A few steps and you can see his hands balled up in white knuckled fists, a few more his jaw clench and unclench. Once you are only an arms length away you can see him swallow harshly, Adam's apple bobbing, nostrils flaring. You push your breasts against his toned chest, the light friction causing a moan to escape your mouth, the sound going straight to his cock.

“I’m - I’m fine.” Bakugou clears his throat, the sound of his first name from your lips sweeter than it should be.

“Lookin a little flushed, you feeling hot?”

He doesn’t answer, his attention captured by the closeness of your body, your lips, the tops of your breasts peeking out of the v neck top you’re wearing.. He stops breathing when your tongue flicks out to lick your bottom lip.

“Cat got your tongue?”

On impulse his hands move to rest on your hips, eyes never leaving your lips. “What was the question again?”

“How. Are. You. Feeling.” you walk your fingers up his chest with each word before pulling his head down so you can whisper in his ear, the anger fading fast. “Katsuki.” You hear him growl, the sound reverberating through your core, then you're being picked up.

“I’m gonna ruin you.” Bakugou crashes his lips to yours, pressing you up against one of the walls and bracing you with one hand so that the other can wrap around your throat. “Fuck, you drive me crazy.” He bites your lip, licking it to soothe the hurt. “Smart, funny, sexy, beautiful.”

You whine at the words and grind against the bulge in his pants, your pussy throbbing with need. “Need to feel you touch me Bakugou.” He stops moving and you shift to try and grind against him again but he holds you tight, slightly squeezing the sides of your neck.

“What happened to calling me by my first name, baby girl?” Loosening his hand and crouching down as if to put you down you sputter out “Kat-Katsuki Please touch me.”

The feral grin on his face has your pussy drooling and you all but sigh in relief when he stands up straight and slips a hand under your shirt, cupping one of your breasts. “Oh god yes.”

“You’re so soft baby,” he pulls one of the cups down and rolls your nipple in between his fingers. “Take off your shirt, wanna see those pretty tits.”

Katsuki keeps playing with your nipple when you rip your shirt off, making short work of your bra and tossing it. As soon as the other nipple is in view he dives down to suckle it, his mouth hot. You throw your head back, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and pushing your chest out to give him better access.

He is merciless in his teasing, alternating between breasts, making sure to suck each nipple till they are both hard peaks. Kissing the top of your soft globes, your collarbone and neck, everywhere his mouth goes is left with a mark in varying shades of red and purple.

You grow impatient with him, needing to make him feel as good wanting to feel him with your hands, mouth, teeth.

“Wanna feel you too Katsuki.” you whine as he pinches one nipple while nibbling the other one. When you pull on his hair a little he groans but lifts his head, pulling both nipples with him before letting them go.

“What do ya wanna feel, baby girl?”

With all your inhibitions throw out the window you lean down and whisper in his ear. “Wanna feel you fuck me.”

You pull away and he quickly sets you down, you’re about to object when he takes his shirt off in one smooth motion then starts unbuttoning his jeans. You rush to follow, unzipping your pants and pulling them down, before you can pull down your panties he grabs your hand stopping you. “Leave ‘m on.”

Katsuki picks you up again before you can get a good look at his cock, but when it's pressed against you there is no need to see it. “Fuck you’re huge.”

He smirks at you, smug pride in his eyes. “Glad you approve.” Reaching a hand down he pulls your panties to the side and runs his fingers through your wet folds. “This all for me?” bringing his fingers up to show you the slick dripping down them he puts them in his mouth and sucks. “Gonna have to enjoy that tasty treat later.”

Your body is burning up, breathing is heavy as you both watch him drag his cock along your wet slit before pushing in. Your moans echo in the lab and neither one of you cares as Katsuki's cock drags against your inner walls until bottoming out. Right now is not the time for slow strokes, not with the aphrodisiac flowing through both of your bodies, so he starts a pace that has your ass slapping against his thighs.

“C-cumming!” You scream out before your body bows in on itself and you're creaming around his cock.

“Already?” a sideways grin on his face Katsuki starts moving you up and down in time with his thrusts, his cock reaching that much deeper. “Gonna cum for me again? Come on baby, wanna feel you milk my cock.”

Your mind is going blank, the only thing running through it is Katsuki. “Please don’t stop,” you dig your nails into his shoulders. “M Gonna cum again.” His thrusts go shallow and the head of his cock drags against your walls, hitting all the right spots.

You’re repeating his name endlessly, the only word that is in your mind then you’re cumming again. Your legs tense around his waist and your pussy clenches down hard enough that he has to stop moving or risk hurting you. He watches your face contorted in pleasure and starts thrusting as soon as he feels your orgasm subside.

“One more.”

Your head fuzzy, body limp from two orgasms. “I can’t!”

“Wrong,” Katsuki pulls out for a second, setting you on the floor and pushing on your back. You obediently bend forward grabbing the edge of the counter top and he wastes no time in rutting back into you. “You want me to stop?”

“NO”

“Then you got one more beautiful thing.” He sticks two fingers in his mouth, getting them wet then reaches around rubbing soft circles on your puffy clit. His other hand gripping your hip, before moving up and grabbing your shoulder using it as leverage to fuck into you harder.

“Come on, cum for me.”

You turn your head to the side trying your best to look in his eyes, yours tearing up at the overstimulation. “You cum too, fill me up Katsuki.”

“Oh fuck yeah.” Bending his knees he thrusts up into you and with the new angle, teasing circles being rubbed on your clit and the feral moans coming out of his mouth you cum one last time.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck

Katsuki cums after you, rope after rope of cum coating your fluttering walls.

You both stand there catching your breath. Katsuki pulls out and you whimper, “Oh don’t worry beautiful,” he picks you up again, walks over to a chair and sits down with you in his lap “not done with you yet.”

By the time you are spent both of you are exhausted and lost track of how many times either of you came. He helps you stand up, quickly pulling your panties back in place. “Don’t want you leakin.”

You giggle and pick up your clothes from the floor, he helps you get dressed and you both walk to the door. Making sure to check the air quality before leaving the lab you confirm that nothing is left in the air and unlock it. Before opening the door you turn to him opening your mouth to ask a question but he talks first.

“Let's go back to my room, yeah? I’ll help you clean up.” His voice rough from moaning and growling but you can see a small smile on his lips. Even though you know that the effects of the extract have worn off you can’t help but worry that he is still under their influence. Nodding your head you turn away from him again and open the door, walking into the lobby.

“I assume you're finished with the lab?”

You stop dead in your tracks, Katsuki bumping into you. “P-professor Aizawa?” Red hair peeks out behind him and Kirishima looks at you both with a nervous sharp toothed smile and red face. The fog of your memory clears and you vaguely remember hearing knocking on the window and door while you were… indisposed.

Katsuki steps in front of you, from the lack of red on his face or neck you know he isn’t nearly as mortified as you. “How long have you been standing there?”

The tired eyes of your teacher examine both of you. “Long enough.” He sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You are both to meet me in my office tomorrow morning.”

And just before you can’t get anymore embarrassed he walks out and says over his shoulder. “The labs aren’t sound proof, and these walls echo.”

@doinmybesthere @patchworkpuzzle @eyebagsbutglam @sugarspiceanddynamight

[twsted-seas]

Congrats on the milestone! For a drabble, how about some Idia and Azul board game club interactions? Can be platonic or more shippy depending on how you’re feeling!

Sorry this took a little bit longer! I wanted to do right by my boys.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/38856336

Or, read on below!

Azul stared over his steepled fingers at Ortho, ignoring the wheezing Idia next to him. He glanced down at the chess board, counted the pieces, glanced back to Ortho, then back to the board.

“Ortho… where are the missing pieces?”

Idia finally lost the battle with his laughter, cackling and collapsing sideways onto the cushioned arm of the couch. Ortho smiled innocently.

“Ortho… I swear if you ate them like Floyd tried to -” and that was enough to make Ortho crack, giggling childishly as Idia fell off the couch from how hard he was laughing.

“Sorry, sorry Azul-san! Floyd and Jade told me what happened and I couldn’t help myself…” The android smiled sheepishly, opening a latch on his side to reveal a container with the missing pieces inside. He set them on the board gently, closing up the latch with a snap and standing from the table. “Thanks for playing with me Azul-san, I promise I’ll take it seriously next time!”

Azul just sighed, leaning back on the pillows of the couch and poking the still gasping Idia on the floor with his foot. “It’s fine, I should have expected that. I do expect you to give me a serious match in the future, however.”

Ortho grinned and nodded, bouncing slightly on the new leg mods Idia had given him after a… chat… with the Leech twins. “Sure thing, Azul-san! It’s a deal!” Azul sighed and Ortho just snickered. “I promised the Prefect that I would join their team for a Magishift rec match today, though, so that’ll have to be next time. Bye, Azul-san! I’ll be by to pick you up later, nii-san!”

Azul and Idia waved as the flame-haired boy flew off, the door banging behind him. The octopus mer looked down as Idia finally began to calm, splayed out on the ground with a teasing, sharp-toothed grin on his face.

“It wasn’t that funny, you know.”

“You’re right, it was only hilarious.” Azul accidentally knocked a pillow into Idia’s face, sending the other boy into another round of snickers as he sat up and shoved the pillow back at Azul. “The expression on your face! You were so confused! And then, that moment of realization-!”

“Yes, yes, I’m glad you enjoyed me making a fool of myself. Again.” Azul was not pouting, thank you very much. He was just contemplating what decisions he had made over the course of his life that led to not one but two different opponents essentially eating the chess pieces in front of him without him noticing.

“Aww, come on Azul-shi, you know Ortho was just playing.” Idia lifted an arm up to Azul, waving it at him pathetically while looking up with a pout of his own. Azul shook his head but reached down to lift the other boy up and back onto the couch nonetheless. “You know he doesn’t get a lot of opportunities to just… be a kid. Most people are still uncomfortable around him… some of the normies would freak out if Ortho had even opened his stomach compartment like that…”

It was Azul’s turn to reach out to Idia, leaning his shoulder against the taller boys�� and making him jump. “It’s hardly your or his fault that so many of our classmates are fools. If half of the entire student body agree to make a deal with me while knowing full well that their servitude is on the line…”

Idia’s laughter was meaner this time, the edge that was usually kept buried by his anxiety coming through. “Ehehe, that’s true. There’s no accounting for taste or smarts with normies.”

Azul merely hummed in agreement, pushing up his glasses before beginning to pack up the chess pieces. “Luckily for us, we only have to deal with them when it’s to our benefit. Now then, what would you like to play next?”

Idia shrugged, toppling back over to spread out along the couch, stretching his arms up and over his head before settling back into the excess of pillows they had collected. “Ehh, I dunno. I don’t really feel like doing anything too complicated today.”

“So what, Triumph of Chaos? Empire of Sun? Advanced Squad Leader? Twilight Struggle?”

Idia groaned, lifting up a pillow and burying his face in it. “Azul-shi, if you pull any of those out, I will cry, and then call Ortho back to hit you for me.”

The Octavinelle dorm leader laughed before pulling out a worn copy of Battleship, shaking the game in Idia’s direction before the Ignihyde leader cautiously pulled the pillow off his face, brightening at the sight and nodding in agreement.

“Please, we both know you wouldn’t pull Ortho away from his fun. This may be the only time the Prefect’s team absolutely decimates their opponents at Magishift.”

Idia grinned, spreading his hands out in a shrug.”True, but you know he’d still get revenge later for making his nii-san cry.”

“Hence, Battleship.” Azul took Ortho’s previous place at the table, pulling up the cushioned chair as Idia squirmed down the couch to reach the pieces more easily, fighting off a yawn as he did. The silver haired-boy frowned, glancing at the dark bags under his companions' eyes. “Did you stay up too late again, last night? We can, of course, postpone this meeting if required.”

“Nahhhhh, I wanna keep going. We don’t get many opportunities to play without the rest of the club. Not that they can’t be fun, but… ya know.”

Azul did, in fact, know.

“I suppose that’s fair enough. But if you do need to take a nap, do let me know. I have plenty to work on that I can manage from here if you’d like me to stay while you sleep.”

Idia nodded, not meeting Azul’s eyes as he finished setting up the game. “Thanks, Azul-shi… maybe later.”

“Perfect. Now then… shall I guess that you have a ship at F6?”

“Ehhh? On your first guess? Were you looking, Azul-shi?” The octopus mer merely pushed up his glasses and smirked while Idia sighed and shook his head. “Unfair…” The blue-haired boy stuck a little red marker on his ship before collapsing back onto the pillows, mock-glaring at Azul.

They both knew neither would bother cheating at something as simple as this, not against each other, but it was all part of the game.

“Alright then, let me guess… H8?” Azul sighed and held up a red piece as Idia cackled triumphantly. “I think this game gets faster and faster the more we play it.”

“You may have a point, there.”

True to their guesses, they were able to finish three matches within thirty minutes, at which point both had more than their fill of squinting at each other over the board and throwing red pins and sunken ships at each other during fake squabbles and losses.

“2-1 in your favor, Azul-shi. I think I’m done for the day…” Idia leaned back into the couch with a sigh, fighting off his thirtieth yawn in as many minutes. “I think… I might take you up on that nap offer… can you wake me up when it’s almost time for Ortho to return?”

Azul nodded easily enough, collecting the pieces for both of them and putting the board away. “Certainly, if you can spare someone to look at the lighting in Mostro Lounge later this month. We’ll be installing new light fixtures over the bar and I’m afraid we can’t trust just anyone with such delicate work.”

“Sure, sure, Ortho can swing by easily enough, just let us know when. Want me to sign something?”

“Your word is enough for this, I should think. Sleep well, Idia.”

“‘Night, Azul…”

The businessman stood quietly, putting away the board game and tidying up the clubroom before returning to the table, moving to sit near the already sleeping Ignihyde dorm leader. He pulled out the papers from his messenger bag, setting up two piles for schoolwork and the Mostro Lounge. Azul glanced over one more time at Idia, reaching out to brush the fly-away flames from the other’s face, taking only a moment to marvel at the magic in the gentle fire before returning to work.

It was just another day in the Boardgames Club.

And if Azul helped Ortho surprise Idia awake, and if Ortho showed up at the Mostro Lounge later that month to help with the lighting anyway, well. That was just part of the private game played between Azul and Idia.

[seokoloqy]

The Ravenheart Manor

➳ PAIRING(s): ot7 x reader

➳ GENRE: smut, pwp, mythical creature!au

➳ WORD COUNT: 4.1K

➳ WARNINGS: aphrodisiacs, suggestive content, more warnings will be added in each chapter

➳ SUMMARY: you’re the new maid at the Ravenheart Manor. Take your chance with each of its peculiar residents (hey, does that one have a tail?) after accidentally ingesting a powerful aphrodisiac that might just kill you if you don’t give in to your burning desires.

➳ A/N: at the end of the story it will be split off into seven different parts. Each of them dedicated to a different member they don’t have to be read in order and they are not connected. Enjoy your descent into monster fucker hell~

—

Rain pours all around you and it only seems to grow stronger the longer you wait at the looming door. You had rapped your knuckles against the ornate door twice now, but the manor is so large you doubt anyone would have heard unless they were lingering next to the door.

Your fingers begin to feel numb when the howling winds pick up. You raise your hand again to knock with all your strength, hoping someone will answer before you freeze.

Before your hand hits the door for the third time, the doors pull open and you’re greeted by a man in a waistcoat. His dark hair contrasts with his pale skin. He scans you slowly, eyes drifting down your shivering body, pretending not to notice how your clothes stick to your curves. He makes a small sound of approval before meeting your eyes.

To you, he seems normal, but that would be completely incorrect. When you took this job, you knew it’d be at your own risk. It pays so well you don’t even care about the dangers you potentially face.

“You must be the new help,” he says, pulling the door open wider. You get a glimpse of the inside and the grand decor. “Welcome to the Ravenheart Manor. I’m Yoongi, the butler. I’ll be helping you adjust to life here.”

You lift your suitcase and cross the threshold, taking in your surroundings. Yoongi reaches for your suitcase. When your hands touch briefly, you feel colder than before. You would have dropped your entire suitcase if he hadn’t grabbed it.

Yoongi isn’t phased, instead, he moves along, deeper into the heart of the manor. You force yourself to shake it off and follow him. You might as well get used to this. There’s certainly more encounters like this to come.

“I believe you’ve already been informed of this, but the residents here, including myself, aren’t exactly human. I would like to preface that before you meet them.”

“Yes, I’ve been told.”

You only know that they’re each different creatures, but you’re not entirely sure what. You can’t even tell what Yoongi is yet, but judging by his dark aura, he’s nothing to be messed with.

“May I ask what you are?”

He grins as if he were waiting for you to ask, but doesn’t turn around to meet your gaze. “A demon. If you’re not careful I could steal away your soul and your face. So I suggest not messing up.”

Although his tone is playful, you doubt he’s joking.

—

In the dining area, two men lounge in chairs across from each other, neither of them eating. One has his feet up on the white linen; his mud-coated boots stain the fabric. A toothpick rests between his lips and his eyes travel the pages of a worn book. The other nurses a cup of dark liquid that he seems mesmerized in, watching his tired reflection stare back at him. The room smells of coffee and you assume that’s what he’s drinking, despite the clock ticking close to midnight.

The ambient candle lighting is warm, casting a soft glow over the room. With the rain battering against the window it creates a cozy atmosphere, and for a brief moment, it’s almost a place you’d call home.

Yoongi clears his throat and both men call their attention towards you and you’re suddenly reminded of the dangers beneath this roof.

The man with his feet on the table grins, his canines peeking beneath his upper lip, plucking the toothpick from his mouth and shutting his novel with a loud slam that startles the other man out of his daze. “A toy? You love to spoil us, don’t you, Yoongi?”

“She’s not your toy, master Taehyung,” Yoongi says, eyes narrowing slightly at Taehyung’s shoes muddying up the table. “This is ___ and as of today she will be assisting me with chores around the manor.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t play around with her,” Taehyung pouts, “Jungkook, doesn’t she look like fun?”

Jungkook meets your eyes and immediately flushes, turning back to stare into his black coffee. “I don’t know,” he mutters, curling into himself like he wants to disappear.

Taehyung laughs, rich and melodious laughter, throwing his head back against his chair, “don’t mind him. All baku are shy things. It’s cute—don’t you agree, ___?”

At that, Jungkook dips his head lower, dark hair sweeping over his eyes as he tries hiding his embarrassment.

You don’t want to turn Jungkook any more red than he already is. You ignore Taehyung’s question and regard both men with a thin smile and a polite bow. “Hello, I’m eager to begin working here.”

Taehyung swings his boots off the counter—much to Yoongi’s relief—and leans forward with his elbow resting on the table and chin propped in his hands. His tongue wets his lower lip like a starving wolf.

“Will you call me master as well, ___?” Taehyung queries, popping his toothpick back in his mouth with a sly grin.

Your heart hammers at his charming smile.

“If you wish.”

“I’d love nothing more, my dear.”

You take a deep breath through your nose, unsure of your next words.

“Well then, master, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Taehyung’s smile drops and for a second you can see the predatory gaze in his eyes that tells you he craves to pounce on you. Maybe if Yoongi and a Jungkook weren’t in the room, he would. Maybe he’d have you pressed against the wall before you could say anything more and devour you completely. His voice is lower when he speaks again, any trace of his teasing attitude gone. “I think we’ll have a lot of fun together, my dear.”

—

“This room is the bathing area. You’ll be sharing it with the rest of the residents here. There is a scheduled amount of time for you to bathe alone, however. So don’t worry about anyone barging in on you.” Yoongi says, opening the door, releasing a thick cloud of steam. Upon entering, you notice the large bath in the center with two shadowy figures in the fog.

“You get off on making me angry, don’t you?” The hiss comes from the steam. “I said, don’t touch my things!”

“It’s just soap, Hobi. Relax before you pull something.”

Before you can turn away after the fog clears, you’re met with two men at the bath. One is submerged in the water with his arms crossed over the ledge and the other stands over him with a towel wrapped around his waist.

The one not in the bath has a scowl on his face, but more importantly, two leathery white and blue wings protruding from his back and a large sweeping tail matching in color tucked under his towel.

“Touch my things again and I’ll tie you up in the sun till you shrivel,” the one with the tail threatens.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Ahem,” Yoongi clears his throat. “Masters, may I introduce our newest guest?”

You almost gawk at Yoongi for thinking now, when there are two men practically naked and arguing, is an appropriate time to introduce you. But then again, he is a demon. He must not have any qualms over things that you’d normally find inappropriate. He is the embodiment of sin, after all.

The one in the bath is the first to look at you. He gasps, pushing himself up from the water. Instead of seeing him completely naked, his waist blends into iridescent smooth scales. A shimmering tail flicks behind him, splashing water over the edge of the bath.

“I had no idea she’d be so cute! Say, care to join me for a bath, dear?”

Saving you from the embarrassing stutters that would’ve left your mouth, Yoongi interrupts, “there’s no time for that tonight, master Jimin. I’m sure ___ is tired from her trip here and would like to get to bed as soon as this tour is over.”

You hold in your sigh of relief.

Jimin pouts, dropping his arms back into the water with a splash. “Alright. Maybe next time.” The disappointment is marred on his beautiful face.

“Why’d you have to bring a human into the manor, Yoongi?” The second man says.

“I think she is very qualified for the job, master Hoseok.”

“Tch,” Hoseok scoffs. “She won’t last here.”

—

The crackling fireplace warms your rain-soaked body. Worn books line the walls in this next room. Yoongi guides you deeper into the library where there are two men sitting in chairs across from one another, pondering over a chessboard.

“This is very boring, Namjoon,” the blonde one huffs, propping his elbow on the table to cradle his chin. He looks out the looming window at the drops of rain battering against the window with a sigh. “Nothing like celestial games.”

The man opposite him gives a similar sigh as his hand hovers over a pawn, contemplating his next move carefully, “Seokjin, it’s been over a century since you were cast out. When will you stop comparing everything to the celestial realm?”

“When my Father gives me my true wings back.”

“So never,” Namjoon says matter factly, pushing his dark-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. He pulls his hand back and scans over all his pieces on the board with furrowed brows.

“Masters,” Yoongi calls. “Please meet our newest maid.”

Seokjin turns from the window and nearly grimaces at Yoongi, but as his eyes travel to you they light up, absolutely delighted to see you.

“Hello! Come join us!” Seokjin says, “would you like to play for me?”

He’d like to get out of playing chess anyway he can. He’s already halfway across the room to greet you before you can speak.

“Hello, I’m ___,” you greet politely, placing your hand in Seokjin’s outstretched one. He’s warm, unlike Yoongi. You already feel so much more comfortable just being near him. Namjoon said something about heaven and you assume he must have been an angel.

You become frozen when Seokjin brings your knuckles to meet his lips in a tender kiss.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ___.”

“The theatrics are unnecessary.” Namjoon gives a tired sigh from his chair, still intent on the board before finally moving his piece. After he’s satisfied with the move, he rises from the chair and strides across the room with confidence. When he stops, looming before you, he stares down at you with dangerous maroon eyes. “I’m Namjoon, owner of the Ravenheart Manor. I hope you do not disappoint me.”

—

It’s been about a month since you started working at this manor. You’ve gotten to know a little bit more about each of the residents, but only surface-level things.

You know that Namjoon is half vampire, half werewolf but doesn’t care to speak of his werewolf side. He sometimes disappears into the garden in the middle of the night. You can see him strolling around and disappearing behind hedges from your window. You’ve never been down there because Yoongi has you working dusk to dawn scrubbing down the manor or doing laundry until you can hardly move once your head hits the pillow.

Seokjin is a fallen angel who was cast out centuries ago, but can’t seem to stop reminiscing about his time there. You enjoy being around him the most. He always puts you at ease and is the only one who occasionally helps you with chores. He’ll help you sweep the floors and tell stories of Heaven that always captivate you.

Yoongi is a demon who seems to take a great amount of joy in bossing you around on your hands and knees. Every morning, just before the sun is over the horizon, he’s hovering over you with endless amounts of chores to do and a new list of your flaws and how you can do better.

Hoseok is a dragon and it seems like he just doesn’t like you at all. The subtle glare he gives you whenever you walk into a room makes you want to exit immediately. He likes to keep to himself in his room most of the day and away from the other residents. No one gets to go into his room at all because he locks the door. You’re not sure what he’s hiding in there.

Jimin is a siren who endlessly flirts with you about getting into the bath with him. You’ve heard the stories of sirens seducing their prey just to drown and eat them so you avoid being near the baths whenever he’s in, but it seems like he’s always in the bath. Sometimes you catch yourself being tempted by his sweet voice whenever he offers.

Taehyung is a kumiho that loves to tease and pull you onto his lap while he reads a book just to watch you grow flustered. You always find yourself thrown onto his lap whenever he’s nearby. He loves having you curled against him, one arm securely around your waist and the other with a book open on your lap.

Jungkook is a baku. He’s easily flustered by you, turning red easily whenever you’re around. He’s so quiet; sometimes you don’t even notice his presence in a room until someone acknowledges him.

You sigh as you pour a glass of blood for Namjoon in his usual tall glass. You spent the whole day dusting the library and pulling yourself from Taehyung’s affectionate grasp most of the time.

“Uh-”

Another voice entering the kitchen disrupts your futile attempts at relaxing. Caught off guard, you accidentally let out a yelp, nearly tipping out the entire pitcher of blood. Consequently, your help causes the intruder to jump as well.

“Sorry!” He says.

You turn around to find Jungkook shrinking away under the door frame and not some hungry monster you didn’t know inhabited the manor.

“What are you doing here?” you breathe a sigh of relief. Out of all the residents in this house, Jungkook is the least of your worries. Actually, you doubt he’s even capable of hurting anything with how timid he is.

“Do you need more coffee?” You gesture towards the empty mug clutched in his hand.

He nods, extending his cup towards you. His arm strains to hand the cup to you from the distance he’s put between you two.

By now, you’re not surprised he’s here asking for more caffeine at night. His unusual sleeping schedule (not that he ever sleeps), along with a filled cup of black coffee always clinging to his side, keeps him up all through the night. You’ve never questioned his obsession with coffee and the habit of staying up. You don’t know much about baku, but there probably is a good explanation for it.

“Um,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck, “You seem… stressed?”

“A little,” you admit, moving to take the coffee pitcher off the heat.

“Oh,” he trails off, not knowing what else to say. You can see the cogs turning in his head as he attempts to think of something to say or do. “Maybe something to drink will help?”

You laugh, “I don’t think coffee is going to help me relax, especially at night.”

Jungkook flushes, averting his gaze towards the cupboards. “Th-That’s not what I meant.”

He shuffles over to the cupboard and opens a panel to reveal where the liquor is kept. He grabs one of the bottles off the top shelf—an opaque rose-colored glass with a wide rounded bottom and long neck.

“Here. Jimin always drinks this whenever he’s stressed and brags about how it can make anyone feel good,” he extends the bottle towards you, “maybe this’ll help.”

You haven’t had a good drink since coming to the manor. Even with Yoongi’s voice in the back of your head nagging about how a good maid wouldn’t drink on the job and how he’d be disappointed by your actions, you find yourself reaching for the bottle.

You take the bottle from Jungkook, who surprisingly doesn’t flinch when you accidentally brush fingertips, but you can see the familiar pink flush across his cheeks.

“One or two drinks won’t hurt.”

—

You drank a few shots of the oddly sweet liquor before dinner could begin. It filled you with a pleasant warmth that ran through your entire body. True to Jungkook’s word, it did help you relax—maybe a little too much.

Now you’re sitting at the dinner table surrounded by all seven of the residents. Yoongi is hovering behind Jungkook, refilling another cup of coffee, still working to serve his masters. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him eat.

Tonight is a mandatory dinner where you all sit down and have dinner at one table. Usually, the residents have separate meals at separate times in their own rooms or wherever they can find prey—willing, submissive volunteers, as Jimin likes to call them—but Namjoon made it a rule to have dinner together at least once a week to help you find normalcy and feel more comfortable living with a group of supernatural creatures.

You absentmindedly poke at your meal while your stomach churns. You’re not in pain—far from it actually. The all too familiar heat between your legs has you slowly sliding your legs together underneath the table to ease the tension. The throbbing is subtle but it’s there, rendering you unable to focus on anything else but that need.

“Not hungry?” Namjoon asks you, dabbing blood off the corner of his lip with a white cloth.

You glance toward the head of the table where Namjoon sits back in his chair watching with sapphire eyes as your hand swirls around a spoon. You tense under his gaze, which is entirely devoid of emotions when it travels back to your face.

The month that you’ve been in this manor you’ve picked up on some things about its peculiar residents.

This always seemed to be Namjoon’s demeanor—composed and seemingly one step ahead of everyone else. Namjoon is always eerily calm even when he should be livid. It only makes him more intimidating to you.

You’ve always wondered what goes on in his head. Maintaining a mansion full of different mythical creatures must be tough on him, and if it is, he doesn’t let it show.

In the corner of your eye, you see Yoongi cradling the pitcher of coffee behind Jungkook. His silent stare is a warning. ‘Don’t let the masters know you’re struggling. Maintain your composure or be punished.’

Working closely with Yoongi has taught you a few things about him too. He hates upsetting his masters and if you mess a single thing up, one of two things can happen. He’ll begin to lecture you about not being an adequate maid or he’ll stay silent and watch you until you crumble and apologize.

His silence is what you’re most afraid of. You’ve never seen what he looks like as a demon; but when he’s upset with you, a cloud of thick dark smoke rises from his body. If you ever do get to see his real demon form, you’re positive punishment would be laid out for you.

And that’s how he looks at you now—silently.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you lie. Even without Yoongi’s warning eyes, you wouldn’t want them to know about the embarrassing need between your legs anyway. Though you’re sure Jimin or Taehyung wouldn’t mind jumping at the chance to help you. They’re always eager to touch you and keep you close to their sides. Their hands roaming your body doesn’t seem like such a bad idea right now though.

All chatter halts as all the men turn their curious eyes towards you, all of a sudden very interested in your loss of appetite. Seokjin even soothingly rubs your back with one hand and you can’t help but melt at his touch. It’s not uncommon for the former angel to give you a hug or a head pat when you’re feeling down, but this time his hands on you feel different.

It’s like his hand sends tingles throughout your body, more importantly between your legs, as it rubs warm and soothing circles on your back. His hands between your legs are all you can think of—the heavenly angel, sinning between your thighs. His lips, his tongue on you, licking up your arousal like it’s the sweetest ambrosia.

“If you’re not feeling well you should rest,” Seokjin says, moving his hand to your forehead to check your temperature.

Once his hand makes contact with your bare skin, you bite your lip at how warm his hand feels against you and you just want more of his touch. You want to feel all of him against you.

He flinches back once he touches your skin and his face scrunches up in worry. “Oh my, you’re burning up.”

“You’ve been working her too hard, Yoongi,” Taehyung says. He’s sitting on you’re right and leans in closer to inspect your heated face. His hand subtly slides onto your thigh and you immediately move your hand over his to make sure he doesn’t move it. He looks shocked by your unusually bold move. Normally, you play coy and pretend that you don’t like his sly advances and push him away.

“I only give her as much as she can handle, master.”

You let out an accidental whimper. Why did that sound so much more sexual than it was? The idea of Yoongi’s punishments has a different ring to you now. If you were to disobey Yoongi would he bend you over his lap and make you beg for forgiveness?

Your grip tightens around Taehyung’s hand.

The rest of the table looks at you wide-eyed, a few gaping, mainly Jungkook who looks ready to disappear into his chair.

“What the hell was that?” Hoseok blurts, averting his gaze from your heated one.

“You sound like me after a sip of my aphrodisiac,” Jimin giggles to which Jungkook pales.

“W-What?” he stutters, a panicked expression settling on his face.

Namjoon puts down his glass, licking the drop of blood on the corner of his lip.

Jungkook shifts uncomfortably, an action not unnoticed by Namjoon’s sharp eye.

“Speak,“ Namjoon says, shooting a sharp glare towards Jungkook, causing him to press himself further into his chair. "If you know what’s the matter, then speak, Jungkook.”

At the sound of his name, Jungkook almost yelps, anxious to admit his mistake. He ducks his head down and fiddles with his hands in his lap.

"I-I think I accidentally let her drink some of Jimin’s aphrodisiac,” he mutters underneath his breath, voice trailing off near the end. The atmosphere surrounding the table goes silent for a moment. Namjoon simply stares at Jungkook with silent anger. Jungkook avoids eye contact with the entire table, especially you.

“You!” Jimin laughs aloud, interrupting the silence, and points his finger towards Jungkook, hardly getting a word past his laughter. “You gave her my aphrodisiac?! What were you trying to do, Jungkook? Get her into bed with you?”

“No! No, I swear!” Jungkook cries, sounding more and more helpless and meak, “I-I didn’t mean to! I was only trying to help! S-She said she was stressed!”

Namjoon puts his elbows on the table and rubs his temples. A groan escapes him. “How much did you drink, ___?”

You don’t trust your voice to speak without sounding breathless and needy. “A little,” you respond weakly.

“And how much is a little?” he repeats this time the question is aimed towards Jungkook.

“One…eh, m-maybe four shots?”

Yoongi looks disappointed in you, but you don’t really seem to mind. Your thoughts are still on the kinds of punishment Yoongi’s hands could give you. “What am I going to do with you?” He tsks.

“Don’t worry; the potion should wear off in a couple of hours or so. If you need any help with those urges feel free to knock on my door.” Jimin winks from across the table. Given your state, you wouldn’t mind taking him up on that offer. You’ve often walked by and heard the sounds his ‘guests’ make in his bedroom all night long. His very skilled hands stroking your body, the sweet lull of a siren’s song singing in your ears as he-

“The aphrodisiac potion may wear off in a couple of hours for us but the same can’t be said for humans. ___ should be monitored in case this potion turns out to have more negative consequences than expected.” He turns toward you. “To make you more comfortable I’ll let you choose who you’d like to watch over you.”

WHO WOULD YOU LIKE TO CHOOSE?

Seokjin - angel | coming soon

Namjoon - werewolf/vampire hybrid | coming soon

Yoongi - demon

Hoseok - dragon | coming soon

Jimin - siren | coming soon

Taehyung - kumiho | coming soon

Jungkook - baku | coming soon

[spenciegoob]

Cracked Mirror

A/N: hi, I continued to see a bunch of “season 2 Spencer would be so scared of season 12 Spencer, so I decided why not write them meeting? let’s do it, baby super angsty :P it took everything in me to not tag ‘how it should’ve gone’ but basically this is ‘how it should've gone.’

Summary: Spencer Reid? Meet a very much older Spencer Reid.

Pairing: Season 15 Spencer & Season 2 Spencer

Category: Angst

Content Warnings: no ship, mentions of drug addiction, drug abuse, Tobias Hankel, Maeve, mentions of Jeid

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.4K

_____

Spencer 15:

The smell was always the first thing I noticed when I woke up from a restless sleep. It meant I was alive, that the terrors that danced across my eyelids like a ballad of the doomed were not real. I never believed in the Higher Power, but if there was an Evil Spirit, it possessed my mind the second my guard fluctuated.

The smell, however, the one made up of stiff air that paralyzed you and blood you weren’t sure was yours, that smell meant I got to live another day.

It also meant I could still die.

But now I woke up in a startle because I wasn’t supposed to be here. I escaped this place before, I made it out. Did my only indicator of life just turn into my own personal Hell? Was I finally gone, seconds ago hoping for rest only to come to the conclusion that I would never get the chance?

I was back in a gray jumpsuit, and what scared me the most was how quickly I got up to make my bed.

“Reid, you have a visitor.”

Spencer 2:

They say every person in their career has a moment that changes the way they view their job forever, and I would’ve liked to continue to believe I had mine already, when I put away the first unsub that didn’t deserve the life they were unfortunately gifted to live out. I know I couldn’t sleep much after.

But now that I hurry past empty cells and recreation rooms on my way to a stone box with a killer, I changed my mind.

This was my moment.

I had to keep up with Hotch, and I wish it was because I was scared of getting lost, but it wasn't. If I lose Hotch, I’m afraid I’ll lose my life.

We just had to reach the interrogation room, and we’ll be fine. We just have to talk to... to who?

Who are we here to see? Why am I here?

“Hotch.” The older man stopped his fast pace to turn to me exasperated. I would have that expression too if someone stopped me in a place like this, but here I am, feet stuck to ground like a fear-inducing glue because I can’t remember why I’m here.

“What’s wrong, Reid?”

“Why am I here?” Hotch didn’t get angry, or confused at my question. Instead, Hotch’s face turned into something that was a prized rarity at other times, but right now, it ran my blood cold.

He nodded at me, his face visibly relaxing with understanding, and kindness spreading from his eyes into mine.

“You have someone here you need to see.”

And then he just continued the path we were on until we reached a metal door with a window not large enough to see who was waiting for me on the other side. I didn’t get too close, giving myself a 5 foot head start in case I needed to run, but Hotch would never put me in a position like that, right?

He would never use me as a pawn in a game of life or death.

“Whenever you’re ready.” By the time all the questions flooded through my head like a tsunami that made it to the tip of my tongue, Hotch was gone. 

The invisible magnetic field between myself and the door was a force backed up by science. I felt the way it tugged me forward, like negative and positive electrons charming me with the song of the buzzer unlocking it.

When I was ready, he said. Would I ever be ready for the feeling that washed over me? I felt the weight of the world rest on my shoulders, stuck in an ocean made entirely of resin, slowly hardening around me to keep me trapped.

But I still grasped the cool metal doorknob, and I wish I took a deep breath before entering. It was the wrong call on my part, because I walked in and all the oxygen left my lungs in a flash.

The air in the room felt different. It hung with the purpose of imprisoning those who dare breathe it into their lungs. Enchantment and intoxication were meant to hold beauty and grace, leading the charmed to a fulfillment in life worth living.

But the eyes of Medusa were in the room with me, and I was stupid enough to turn to stone.

“Who are you?” How could I ask that? I knew the answer by looking into his eyes. I say his, because they weren’t mine. Sure, they had the same hazel color, and the same round, boyish shape, but they looked so dull. Sadness, the kind that moves mountains and starts wars, was buried deep in the beholder, casting a shadow over his soul. 

I didn’t stare for very long. I couldn’t.

“You know who I am.” His voice was worse. “I know why I’m here. Sit down.”

“I- I just... Absolutely not! This is- this, I- I can’t. I have to get out of here.” Insanity! It had to be. I was staring at a person I didn’t know, yet knew every little detail about, and I couldn’t breathe.

“Sit down before you panic.” There was no point in lying and saying I was fine, he knew it would be a lie. We weren’t just profilers.

So I sat, taking my time to round the table and pull the chair farther back to establish a far enough distance between us. He did the same. Of course he did.

“Answer my question,” I whispered, looking down at the place where the leg of the table met the top.

“There are far better questions to ask me.” He was right, there were more pressing matters at hand, but how do you ask someone what landed them in a jumpsuit when you were terrified of the answer?

“Did- is time travel a thing?” The second the question left my mouth, I realized how absurd it was, but so was staring into the cracked funhouse mirror I was currently stuck in front of.

“Come on, we don’t have much time, and that’s what you want to ask me? Dig deeper.” Is this how Morgan feels when I’m always right?

How could I dig deeper when it all went so far that the only thing consuming my soul was a bottomless black hole? The memories flashing from projectors all around me as I sank further until eventually my oxygen ran out. Going deeper meant letting the weight of my heart push against my chest like a rock thrown into the depths of the ocean, but I suppose he would follow me.

“What happened?” I looked up to see him take a deep breath, leaning back in the chair with careful contemplation. There was something more though, something that lingered the second we met eyes.

Jealousy. There was nothing of myself to be jealous about, however.

“We made too many mistakes.” We. Only one of us was in the jumpsuit. There had to be some way to avoid that, right?

“God, this is insane!” I promptly shouted, standing up frantically. “You’re the prisoner here, not me, okay? I didn’t do anything. You did. How am I even here? What is happening, I don’t understand.” At the end of my yelling, I was so far out of breath that I had to lean against the wall. “What is this?”

“Tobias Hankel.” No no no, it can’t be. Am I dead?

“Sit down.” I listened immediately this time, too exasperated to care about being cautious about it.

“You’re with him right now, and from what I can tell, you’re probably in a drug-induced dream.” My head shot up at the mention of Tobias’s coping mechanism for myself. “When you wake up, I don’t expect you to hold onto hope, but for that quick second you let go, don’t feel guilty about it. It will eat you alive if you do.”

“You’re insane.”

“Maybe, but I’m right, and you need to listen to everything I’m telling you.” I was never one to make demands like this.

“And if I do? Will it stop me from becoming you?”

“No, probably not.” Before I had the chance to get angry again, I watched the way his eyes started to glisten with tears. I watched him crack a little bit more, adding to the already gaping slashes across his heart. How many more until he breaks?

“Leave them in his pocket,” he continued after taking a grounding deep breath. “You don’t need it.”

“What are you talking about?” Secretly, I knew what he was meant, because after this nightmare ended I would be back in a far worse one silently begging to return to this interrogation room. 

There were so many thoughts running through my head that it was hard to focus on just one. Plus, I wasn’t really getting any context here.

“I don’t think I can give you many details. I don’t even know if we’ll remember this, or how I got here, but we don’t have much time. There are so many things you need to know.”

“I know practically everything.”

“No you don’t, kid. You know nothing.” He suddenly stood up, walking over to the wall on our left, leaning a hand against it and hanging his head. “When you feel like something is wrong with him, don’t keep it to yourself. Tell Hotch, request time off, do whatever you have to do. Just, go visit him.”

“Who?”

“You’ll know.” There was so much guilt in his voice that I felt it in my chest. It was like a hole was drilled into me, leaving my heart exposed to vultures who wouldn’t hesitate to rip pieces from me.

“What about my mom? Do I... you know?”

“No, you don’t, but promise me something.” He turned to look at me again, hazel meeting hazel. “On days that she’s lucid, tell her everything. Tell her what you ate for breakfast, and that one time Morgan fell trying to kick a door open. Tell her about the dark parts, about how much you love her. Tell her everything.”

“Oh God is she-”

“No. I don’t think I should be telling you that, but no. Don’t think like that.” As if remembering something, he rushed back over to sit down, pulling his chair in and leaning over the table. “Stop running every negative outcome of every situation in your head. Be careful, but don’t be so careful it becomes reckless. That’s how people get hurt, including you.”

“Is that what happened to you? Is that how you ended up here?”

“No. I’m innocent, always was. I ended up in here because I let myself get blinded by a fantasy I had no business dreaming about. There’s going to be times for you to have dreams bigger than yourself, but the second they start to become nightmares, you have to pull yourself back. Don’t get trapped, kid.”

“You know, Morgan calls me ‘kid��. I don’t really know if I like it or not.”

“You’ll come to love it, but with Morgan, don’t push him away. He’s one of the only few people in this world that won’t scrutinize or judge you, and you need to be honest with him.”

“Why?” After asking, I immediately regretted it, because his answer was the one I’ve been dreading the most.

“Because things are going to hurt you, and it’s okay to ask for help every once in a while.”

“What things? Tell me,” I begged, rushing my words and internally cringing at how desperate I sound, but I needed to know. I needed to know the truth.

“When you fall in love, tell her.” He casted his eyes downward, staring at his hands rough and calloused from the years, kind of like Hotch.

“Is it... is it JJ?”

“No,” he let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head softly. “You’ll learn one day the difference between being in love with someone, and just simply loving them.”

I couldn’t help the disappointment spread through me for a second, but I quickly gained my composure when I remembered I’m sitting across a profiler.

“This is too much.” My brain was starting to hurt.

“I know, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything.” A question crossed my mind causing my hands to stop their fidgeting for just a moment, but as quickly as it came, it was gone and my hands resumed. He caught it though. Of course he did.

“What was that thought?”

“My d-” I cleared my throat before continuing. “William. Did he ever...?” I let the words fade out, hoping that he would understand where I was going. He did. Of course he did.

“No.” He took a deep breath, eyebrows furrowing and jaw clenching tightly. “He didn’t.”

“Oh.” While I was disappointed, he looked angry. As sick and twisted as it was, I wish I was more like him. Even with the despairing look in his eyes that came with agonizing memories, he was the man everyone expected me to be. 

He looked at me as if he also wished the roles were reversed. Of course he did.

The edges of the room slowly started to get fuzzy, my vision blurring for a second. “You’re waking up.”

“Can- can I ask you something?” Even though I was terrified of the answer.

“Of course.”

“When did it all go wrong?” He let out a long sigh before running his hands down his face.

“I can’t tell you the exact moment, because even I’m not sure. I can tell you that even when it doesn’t feel like it, you’re alive. You survived, and on some days that’s all that’s going to matter.”

“Do you smell that?” Please say yes, because the smell of burning fish hearts and livers was burning my nostrils and clouding my head.

“Wake up, Spencer. It’s okay.”

“Wait!”

Spencer 15:

My eyes shot open only to be met with blinding lights that seared my pupils. The beeping coming from the machine next to me was the second thing I noticed, and the third was a very alarmed Penelope.

“What happened?” My voice was raspy, and my throat burned intensely.

“You don’t remember? Spencer, you collapsed.”

“Oh.” I couldn’t think of what else to say. Logically, I knew I probably sustained a head injury from the explosion, but when I tried to think beyond that, my brain got fuzzy.

“Are you okay? You know, besides the whole passing out thing?”

“Y-yeah, I just.” I stopped talking. Just what? Penelope hummed curiously for me to continue, but I couldn’t.

“I think I got a second chance.” No matter how vague it was, how little she knew of what that truly meant, Penelope beamed with joy at my answer, and I smiled right back.

“I’ll go get the doctor.” And when she left, I stared up at the ceiling, hoping that the scared kid I used to be took my advice.

____

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[violetsoju]

page 30彡★

kageyama tobio · fluff · 3.2k

a/n: came up w this idea based on a tiktok vid of this trend that randomly popped up on my feed (which i can't find anymore T_T) do let me know if you enjoyed it! ❤️

“Hey, Tobio.”

The mop of raven hair doesn’t look up to you, eyes fixated on the jiggly onsen tamago on top of the curry tonkatsu.

“There’s this new trend going on.”

He hums in response, fingers gripping onto a pair of wooden chopsticks, manoeuvring the fragile soft lump towards the spoon. Just a few more steps till being cradled snugly in the deep end of the cool ceramic spoon.

“And we’re gonna learn the moves and film it right here after this.”

His fingers twitch. One of the long pointy chopsticks loses its cool and stabs the tamago right in the core, streaks of yellow bleeding across the crisp golden brown tonkatsu. Its counterpart desperately tries to put pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding, but too much yolk has been lost, and more jabs were made in the frantic rescue mission. Not even the string of ‘shit’ muttered could save the day. So long, dear onsen tamago.

You’re finally met with piercing blue eyes glaring at you.

“No. And look at what you did to my onsen tamago.”

“You should’ve scooped it up with your spoon instead of pushing it with your chopsticks. Common sense much?” You thank the waitress for the hot steaming tempura udon. “Plus, you’re supposed to break the yolk and coat the luscious essence over your rice, unless you’re a freak and eat it in one go.”

Kageyama’s scowl softens when a piece of fried tempura lands in his bowl in exchange for a piece of tonkatsu. A glint of delight gleams in the two pair of eyes at the first bite of delicious food, taste buds tingling in satisfaction.

It’s a rainy Wednesday night. And rainy nights call for warm comfort food to make up for the gloomy wet weather brought by the pitter patter parade of fat rain droplets. So after a spontaneous text message, here you are, with an old close friend of yours, inside a small cosy shop hidden in an alleyway without any prior arrangements.

“And let me repeat myself. I’m not going to do any dumb dance trends with you again.” Kageyama restates his point firmly.

“Come on, you had so much fun the last time! Even Tsukki sent a good job sticker in the group chat.” You reason.

“You mean he enjoyed seeing me almost tripping over my feet.”

“That was the highlight, to be honest.”

He smacks your chopsticks away with his at your attempt to snag another piece of tonkatsu, not giving in into your pout.

“Anyway, I was just kidding. You’re in luck this time because it’s not a dance trend.”

Kageyama raises an eyebrow at you suspiciously, tilting his head to ask you to continue on.

“This time it’s a trend where you grab your nearest book, turn to page 30, and the first sentence will describe your love life. Interesting, isn’t it?”

“Just when I thought you’ve outgrown these ridiculous nonsenses.”

“Says the one who still insists on drinking a box of strawberry milk before matches.” You jab your chopsticks towards his direction accusingly.

“That’s different because it actually works. And it’s good.” He counterattacks by returning your gesture.

“I hate to say this but, point taken.”

He triumphantly snickers as you sigh in defeat.

“Aren’t you curious on how my love life is described?” You question, blowing off the steam from your spoon full of udon.

Kageyama chomps on another piece of pork cutlet, unamused at your question. “If you’re generous enough to share, I’d be honoured.”

“‘He smiles’”

“What?”

“That’s the first sentence on my page 30. ‘He smiles’.” You reply matter-of-factly, taking a sip of your hot green tea.

“What’s that even supposed to mean?” His brows knit in confusion, hands momentarily forgetting the spoonful of curry rice in hand.

“Use your imagination, Tobio. Awaken your romantic cells.” You gesture with your hands dramatically, earning a deadpan look from the boy seated across you.

“Does it mean whoever’s smiling is the love of your life? Or someone who’s always smiling?” Kageyama rests his cheek against his left knuckle, trying to connect the dots together.

“Well-“

“Wait a minute! Don’t tell me it’s Suga-san. Because if it is, I won’t allow it because Suga-san is way too good for you.”

He yelps as you not-so-accidentally dip your chopsticks stained with broth into his green tea.

“Shush, we both know how much Suga-san adores me. And everyone else.” You smugly take another bite of your fried tempura as he frowns in disgust after drinking the now broth infused green tea.

“I guess it’s feeling of love at the sight of his smile? Like feeling all warm and fuzzy seeing him smile.”

“Is there someone who makes you feel that way with their smile?”

You swirl the udon with your chopsticks mindlessly for a moment. “Maybe there is.”

You look up to the pair of blue eyes staring back at you, holding the intense gaze firmly, neither side backing down to break the tension.

“Do I know him?” Kageyama falters, a hint of anxiousness cracks in his voice.

“Since when were you so interested in my love life?” You laugh awkwardly, hoping to conceal your nervousness.

Despite the surrounding bustling chatter, the world suddenly falls painstakingly silent, with the irregular beats of two young hearts thumping deafeningly and out of rhythm.

The raven-haired boy succumbs first, looking back down to his half empty bowl. You continue swirling your bowl of udon, mentally slapping yourself at your answer and cracking your head to come up with something to save the mood.

“Well, I could help to scan him for you, if you want. Boys know boys better after all,”

You snap back up to look at the boy seated across you, eyes not meeting yours. This is a surprise.

“Plus, you can save the tears and snot to yourself because I might not be free to attend to your midnight crying sessions. If it really happens.”

A surge of warmth radiates throughout your body at his words. Definitely not from the hot bowl of udon.

Kageyama still has his eyes on the bowl before him, looking anywhere else but you. He tries to keep himself busy by scooping more rice, groaning as he further destroys the onsen tamago, unaware of the faint blush painting his cheeks. Definitely not from the hot bowl of curry, too.

“Don’t worry, he isn’t a jerk. I’m sure you’ll like him too.” You chuckle, adjusting your chopsticks to pick up more udon.

Oh, Kageyama Tobio, what exactly should I do with you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽.* :☆ﾟ. ───

Scroll. Refresh. Switch apps. Repeat. Sigh.

You’ve been stuck in this constant loop for the past hour. Instead of getting much needed sleep for the next day, you subject yourself to the chains of the device held in your hand, despite the drooping eyelids and strained arm muscles.

What’s so fascinating about social media anyway? If it’s not friends or random acquaintances posting sinful food pics of ootds, it’d be someone ranting about either their work or love life, or memes you’ve already seen before. Sometimes you wonder if you’ve been casted a spell by social media.

Crying out a yelp as the gadget lands right in your face at the slip of your hands, you massage your nose bridge and forehead from the impact, grimacing in pain. It’s not easy being a slave to social media, huh.

Tossing your phone to the side, you roll over to lie flat on your back, sprawled like a star fish on your bed. A long sigh escapes your lips, eyes staring blankly at the bare celling above. Maybe you should really call it a day.

A beep from your phone tells you otherwise.

Tobio [23:17]

I did it. You owe me one box of strawberry milk.

[23:18]

IMG_20210402_961222

You immediately plop yourself up to sit cross-legged on your bed, tapping on the notification to open the message. As expected of Kageyama Tobio, it was a full-page picture of a book, with a small number 30 on the top left-hand corner. But unexpectedly of Kageyama Tobio too, the page wasn’t from those volleyball books or magazines stacked in the corner of his room. Looks like the mini ramble session you gave him on the way to the metro station worked.

“I know volleyball is the love of your life too, but we’re talking about your actual love life here! So no volleyball books or magazines, go rummage Miwa-san’s book shelf for one random romance novel. Just one. She’ll thank me for taking care of your love life.”

Sliding both your thumbs outwards on the screen to zoom in, your lips press together to form an ‘o’, brows arching in fascination at the first sentence.

She knows.

Interesting.

Your fingers dance across the screen swiftly.

me [23:20]

Ohhh interesting. See, it’s exciting, isn’t it?

Tobio [23:21]

I guess so

me [23:22]

Do you think it describes your love life well?

To actually imagine Kageyama Tobio having something that he loves as much as volleyball is, an odd and foreign feeling.

Tobio [23:24]

I’m not sure tbh

me [23:25]

Well spill the tea so I can help you analyse it

Tobio [23:25]

No

You swear you would throw punches at him if he was beside you now.

me [23:26]

Tsk tsk, so who’s the girl you’ve been hiding from me

Tobio [23:27]

Since when were you interested in my love life?

The use of your own words against you has you clicking your tongue in amusement.

You were contemplating between a civil or sarcastic remark when a new message bubble pops up.

Tobio [23:29]

But do you think she knows?

me [23:30]

About what?

Tobio [23:31]

Nvm, forget what I said

Seriously? This conversation is by no means, ending like this. You tap on the video icon on the right-hand corner of the screen hastily.

It takes a few rings for the familiar face to appear on screen, face a little too close to the camera, brows furrowed, lips pursed.

“What the heck, do you know what time it is?” Kageyama huffs in annoyance, running his fingers through his dishevelled black hair.

“Says the one who sent me such juicy information at this hour.” You bend your legs up, resting your hand on your knees for a better angle.

He throws his head back exasperatedly, muttering something inaudible along the static noise from the speakers, resting his head on a wooden frame you recognise. He still hasn’t changed his bed that he has long outgrown, complaining about soreness in his legs and arms that dangle off the edge every night.

“How do you expect me to go to bed with you hanging me like this? You have the worst timing ever.” You raise your hands in protest.

Kageyama buries half of his face in his palm. “I shouldn’t have listened to you.”

“But you get a box of strawberry milk from this! It’s worth it.” You gesture a finger gun to him knowingly.

He moves two fingers away from his face, peeking to see you through the screen like a child. Heaving a long, heavy sigh, he shifts his weight to sit up properly, half of his face still cradled in his palm.

“So, ‘she knows’, huh. Back to your question. What do you think she knows?” A tinge of excitement and fear bubble up your throat.

Kageyama avoids your gaze, looking to the side. “Well, I mean, about my, er- my feelings, I guess?”

“You mean your heart.”

The sentence has his eyes back on you, vivid blue eyes clouded by the shadows of dimly lit room.

“Yeah, uhm, well, I guess.” His voice trails off.

“Well, have you told her before?” You keep your voice steady.

“No, of course.” His words come out like a whisper.

“Then how is she going to know without any words or actions?” It comes out like a blunt statement, but somewhere deep down, a wave of relief washes over you.

“But I’m always there for her. Whenever she needs me, wherever she is, I try my best to be there for her,” Passionate flames ignite across the vast blue ocean. “I know something is on her mind when she bites the insides of her cheeks, when she flicks the tip of her thumb with her index finger constantly, or when she plays with the piercings on her ears. I’m not one with words, but I stay by her side when she needs me to, listening to her rambles or vents, or wiping away tears that stain her cheeks soft like mochi.

“I set notifications the night before to give her morning calls during her exams or important days because she tends to snooze the alarm on days like these. I always have extra band-aids ready on hand because she always somehow cuts and hurts herself, which hurts my heart too. Heck, I even learn ridiculous things that would be the death of me just for her, because nothing compares to the sparkle in her eyes when she flashes her precious smile, brighter than the sun that takes my breath away every time. I-”

Kageyama stops midway, face painted with horror as if he just let out a million-dollar secret. Panic flares in his eyes, mouth agape in incredulity as his body rigids, dumbstruck with terror by what rolled off his tongue so smoothly. You wonder if the line got disconnected because he turned into a static image, with a full-blown flustered look on his face.

You wave at the screen. “Tobio, you still there?”

It takes a few seconds for the raven-haired boy to snap back to his senses and regain his composure, coughing awkwardly in attempt to calm himself down. Small patches of blush blooming furiously on his cheeks peek out from his hands covering his mouth.

He looks cute.

No, he’s cute.

He’s always been cute.

“I- Er- Ye- Yeah, I’m still here.” Kageyama struggles to find words from his tad-larger-than-average vocabulary vault that has seem to disappear into thin air.

“Gosh, breathe Tobio, breathe. Come on, take a deep breath with me. One, two, three.”

He exhales deeply at the count of three with eyes shut close, hoping that all his jitters have been expelled away in the air.

“There you go. Feel better now?” Your lips tug up gently as the boy on the screen visibly relaxes, shoulders loosening from the tension, face free of creased lines.

He opens his eyes slowly, blinking a few times to adjust his vision before returning a soft smile to you. “Yeah, I do. Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

A tranquil silence blankets over the both of you. This time, the steady beats of two young hearts thump in tune like a metronome. Two young souls gaze at each other, basking in the calmness and comfort of the sincere warm smiles that felt so much like home; but too proud to admit they were like lovesick fools, brushing off the feelings that were screaming loudly to be heard, feelings that they were afraid to face.

“Do you think she knows?” It’s a genuine question, one that takes a mountain high of courage to come up with.

“I’m sure she does.” It’s a genuine answer, one that takes a of couple hundred meters of might to emerge from the deep ends of the sea to come up with.

And you both hope that you’re on the same wavelength.

“So back to square one. Who’s the girl?”

“None of your business.”

“Another piece of crap from you and I’ll leave without you at the metro station tomorrow.”

“Sorry.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽.* :☆ﾟ. ───

When you reach the designated exit of the metro station the next day, a pair of eyes as blue as the day immediately catches your attention among the crowd, feet shuffling on its own accord towards them. As if there was a detector sensing your presence within him, the owner of the beautiful pair of orbs turns to you, raising a hand in greeting.

Kageyama gives you a smile, a smile that says, ‘I hope my smile makes you feel warm and fuzzy’.

You smile back at him, with a smile that says, ‘I hope you know that I know your heart’.

It’s hard to shake off the pride to be damned, but the two lovesick fools find themselves discarding it slowly, bit by bit with each step taken, together.

【☾】

Kageyama is a creature of routine. He always has his day planned out in detail and hates it when it doesn’t go according to plan, or when something pops out of the blue. But there are a few which he can make exceptions for. So when he receives your text asking for dinner after his training session, he agrees in a heartbeat.

He felt his heart sink deeply in his guts when you said there was, indeed, someone who made you feel warm and fuzzy with their smile. But who was he to have his say when his status was merely just a close friend?

Miwa thought he had lost it when he barged into her room without notice that night, scanning her bookshelf for novels, specifically of the romance genre. It was more nerve-wrecking than retaking exams back in high school with Hinata while flipping through the pages, and it didn’t help much when he finally found the particular page, with the first line inked in black staring back at him in doubt.

He doesn’t know why he sent the picture of the page to you. What exactly was he expecting?

Worse, he doesn’t even know why he started blabbing about how he was always there for you, how much he cares for you, and how much you mean to him. It all just came out so naturally that he could actually score an A+ for impromptu speaking.

But when your eyes were filled with concern while calming him down instead of making fun of him or pestering him for more, something flutters in his mind. Maybe it was from the rush of adrenaline from before, or maybe it was his heart that had leaped out from his chest taking over. He brings up the question once again, with more confidence this time.

He knows you’re not one to lie with your eyes. And he sees the kindness and honesty in them.

A ray of hope flickers in him.

So today, Kageyama musters up every ounce of courage he has, and tells himself it’s now or never: to close the gap he has longed for so long between two hands that swayed side by side. Instead of retreating his hands away when they brush against yours, he curls the tip of his fingers with yours delicately, as if your fingers would melt at his touch.

He hopes that he made the right decision.

And when your fingers curl back, intertwined with his, he knows he has made the right decision, and that his question has been answered.

She knows.

And the fact that he’s the one behind the smile that makes you go all warm and fuzzy, he swears it feels like he could run for miles and miles without running out of breath, soaring even higher than the clouds in the skies. None of the perfect sets he has set in his lifetime could compare to the satisfaction and bliss he was feeling right now.

Because you had set his life ablaze the moment fate brought the both of you together, and you’re his end game.

[alreadyblondenow]

I want it and I f*cking got it

Lee Haechan x virgin!reader 

high school setting / crush became boyfriend 

Themes: FLUFF, SMUT

Summary: You are the shining new girl and the Lee Haechan has eyes on you.

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: This some high school shit realness haha, theres a part where he touched her without consent, swearing, detailed (?) smut, smut again, mentions of blowjob, fingering, oral, mentions of other idols, unprotected sex (pulling out), mentions of alcohol

A/N: Inspired by Hairspray’s ‘I can hear the bells’, I made this just for fun so I can take a break from writing fics with heavy plots. If there are misplaced words or typos I’m sorry. Happy reading!

.........................................................................

Lee Haechan, is so handsome.

That’s the first thing that came in your head when you saw him at the hallway for the first time. He was with his friends Mark, Renjun and Jeno laughing and teasing each other while walking to their next class. You on the other hand is watching them from a far while you put your books and other stuff in your locker.

“Forget it, he’s with Lia. The most popular girl in school” Yeri nudge you and told you more facts about Lia and Haechan. Because of your cousin Yeri, you’re now updated about your crush’s love life. In less than a minute you found out that they’ve been dating basically since freshman year, “those two are inseparable” she added.

A mild heat slowly builds up around your body because they will walk pass by you so you decided to turn your back on them. But then someone bumped you hard that you almost hit your head on your locker door. You wanted to shout and curse at the person who bumped you but you became speechless when you finally saw who it was.

“Oh sorry. I didn’t mean to bump you. The hallways can be so crowded, you should be careful”

Lee Haechan smiled and pats your head and went to his third period. Definitely unprepared and you didn’t expect that that will be your first interaction with him. It happened so fast. You can’t believe it but that sure made you smile from ear to ear, even your cousin was surprised. Being the new girl wasn’t so bad after all when you have Lee Haechan as your happy crush.

ROUND 1

The next day, during your English Literature class with Haechan, he tapped your shoulder and gave you a small piece of paper which you accepted when Mr. Kim wasn’t looking.

I’m really sorry about yesterday. Hope you’re okay -Fullsun

You wrote back with caution, thinking about how you’re just being polite and that this is not considered flirting.

No harm done. Thank you for the reminder about the hallways.  

You turned your back and faced him quickly, gave him the paper with a smile then faced front again. Just like that the chance to flirt back with your crush slipped away. Why? Because you didn’t want to play with fire and ruin your good girl reputation in your new school by flirting with your crush who has a girlfriend.  

Day by day, Haechan tries to start a simple conversation with you before class starts. Telling you how you look you look nice, asking you what did you eat for breakfast, updating you about the weather, and basically everything he could ever think of just to get the chance to talk to you.

It gets harder and harder to avoid Haechan so you gave up and gave him the satisfaction of finally having a decent conversation with you. It was in the middle of watching Titanic during class when he started to whisper beside your ear softly that sends tingles to your spine. Everyone was quiet and focused to how handsome Leonardo DiCaprio is while you focus on how Haechan melts your heart whispering how he loves this movie.  

“That movie is the movie of my life”

“I agree that it’s a great movie. Nicely made and deserving for it’s awards but I still don’t know it’s connection with our English Lit” you whispered back to him, trying to be subtle as possible so you wont get caught by Mr. Kim. “I think Mr. Kim is a hopeless romantic, and so are you”

He giggled quietly at what you said to him, trying so hard not to forget how your voice sounds like the whole time you were whispering beside him. The next think you know, you two were keeping the conversation going until he caught you crying and hands you his handkerchief. It was not necessary but you felt him caress your head and pat it softly to give you comfort.

If the Lee Haechan is normally friendly like this, so be it. You decided to befriend him if you can’t flirt with him, you started talking whenever he sees you around school, during lunch breaks, class hours or dismissal. He continued giving you small notes during class that mainly contains questions about Romeo and Juliet, or whenever he notices that Mr. Kim’s tie doesn’t go with his outfit. Even giving you songs to listen to and a Micheal Jackson playlist.  Little did you know he was flirting already.

“Hey, Jeno is having a party this Friday. You should go” your heart thumps the whole time you were putting your books inside your bag while Haechan was talking to you about Jeno’s party. “since you’re new here, I can introduce you around” he added and gave you an awkward smile.

“Not sure” you shook your head.

“Give me your phone” you didn’t have a choice but you handed it to him. You watch him save his number and name himself ‘Fullsun ☀️’. “Here, text me if you’ll go. I got you, I promise”

After that conversation with Haechan, you told Yeri the whole story which she finds hard to believe. You even showed her Haechan’s contact to make her believe you and she screeched like a bird when she finally did. “Not bad cousin! You should totally go, meet the popular kids you know” she winked at you, “who knows maybe you’ll be friends with Jeno and you can introduce him to me”

“Psh. Yeah, and show Lia that I’m interested with his sexy hot boyfriend? No thanks”

“Ooh by the way, update about the couple…” Yeri stopped walking, “they’re not together anymore. Shocker right? Story says, Lia told Haechan he’s not good enough for her”

“What the actual fu- How perfect does she think she is?”

How can someone say that to someone perfect like Haechan. What Yeri just told you made you swim with never ending thoughts about Haechan. Like, how is he holding on? Is he okay? Because he looked totally fine during the days he was talking to you. Should you really go to the party for him? “Thanks for the update Yeri, I’ll think about it. See you in school!”

When you’re finally home and relaxed, you thought maybe you could give the party a shot. It’s not that you hate parties, it’s just that you don’t know enough people to have fun in a party. But still, even though you’re convinced to go you always find a reason to stop yourself.

While you’re busy contemplating if you’re going to the party, Haechan is busy thinking about you and waiting for your text. Hoping that you will come save him from the sea of people judging him because of his ex Lia. “You do realise that once that girl step foot in this house and people start seeing you together, that will totally bring chaos in her life” Mark came out of nowhere with a cup of beer for Haechan.

“It’s my first time liking someone, I’m not going to let the chance slip away to try and win her”

“What do you mean first time? How about Lia?”

“Oh come on dude, you know I never liked Lia, it’s just a stupid favor I did for my family. I tried to like her. But really, I can’t” he scoffed and took a sip, “y/n gave me reasons everyday to like her”

Mark tried to warn his best friend but he figured he was too late. Haechan is already head over heels and no one can stop him from making a move to you. “Yeah, you’re right. This is the first time I see you smile because of a girl” Mark chugged his beer and left Haechan to get a refill.

To be completely honest, Haechan is scared to drag you with the drama that comes with him the moment he finally confess to you. He thought about ways on how to avoid all that and what Mark said when suddenly his phone dings.

You: Sorry it took me awhile. Send me the address?

This time, it’s Haechan who’s smiling from ear to ear because of you and nervous because you’re finally coming.

ROUND 2

You put on a simple white shirt, black pants, your favorite shoes and your favorite biker jacket. Hoping that Haechan will like your simplicity and that the party will appreciate people who underdress. Now that you know the truth between him and Lia, you’re not holding yourself back. If Haechan flirts with you tonight, you will definitely flirt back.

“You look iconic, come on I’ll get you a drink” he welcomed you with a hug outside Jeno’s house which you think is nice, he didn’t let you step inside a stranger’s house alone. The house looks great and you’re sure that without the neon lights scattered everywhere the house will definitely look like a home. Besides the generous amount of neon lights, the house is loud and full of jumping teenagers who are all strangers to you.

To your surprise, Haechan grabbed hold to your hand so you wont get lost in the crowd. You follow his lead which brought you to the mini bar beside the pool full of horny teenagers who are probably having pool sex at this very second.

“No hard drinks for the lady please” he said to his friend Renjun who mixes the drinks. He saw you and Haechan still holding each other’s hands and he quickly gave Haechan a teasing look that made him let go of you. “Before my dumb friend gets you into trouble, let me introduce myself” he offered his hand for you to shake which you gladly accepted, “Hi, I’m Renjun. I made every mixed drink you see in this party”

Haechan rolled his eyes and mouthed ‘show off’ towards his friend. “Impressive, and you’re not getting tired?- Oh y/n by the way” you shake his hand firmly and the next thing you know Haechan is getting the drinks and dragging you away from his friend to meet the other two, which you already knew who they are. Mark is the smart one and Jeno is the captain of the Taekwondo team.

The night went on beautifully and fun while you two flirt with each other the whole time in front of everyone to see without giving even one fuck about what they say behind your back. Even though you’re already a little buzzed because of the alcohol, you didn’t miss how Haechan placed his hand while he helps you win the beer pong game against Jeno and Mark, which again isn’t necessary because you know how to play beer pong.

“Okay, I think you’ve had enough fun for tonight. I’m taking you home” Haechan said while helping you put your jacket. He walked you home under the quiet and dark neighbourhood, laughing quietly while he tells you the most funniest jokes. Neither one of you don’t want to finish this night but it’s getting late, “thank you for inviting me to Jeno’s party” you said, stopping in front of your house. Crossing your arms and telling yourself that if this guy kiss you tonight, you’re going to scare him and make fun of him.

“Yeah, I definitely can tell you had fun” he slowly went closer to you and kissed your lips. Letting him fall to your trap. You pushed him away with enough force that tells him to stop, “s-sorry. I thought, were on the same page” Haechan panics and apologised immediately.

“Am I some kind of rebound? Or you’re just flirting because you want your ex to get jealous and win her back?” what you said was part true, you do want to know his intentions.

He breathes heavily before he explains with shaking voice, “The relationship I had with Lia is something I did for my mom, because my mom and Lia’s mom are friends and they want us to end up with each other. And I clearly don’t like that idea. I tried liking Lia but I couldn’t force myself when what I feel tells me exactly the truth and the answers to my questions”

He moved away to you while he’s pouring his heart out by explaining and telling you the truth. Hearing it made you feel guilty but at the same time you’re praising yourself for being a genius because you got Haechan to tell you the truth effortlessly.

“Quite frankly I don’t want this to end. If I fuck this up so what, I don’t care. I’ll fix it. I’m going to start over again, even if it means I have to bump on you accidentally on the hallway. Again. Just- fuck, I didn’t mean to move so fast, I’m so sorry” Haechan can hear his own heart beat, nervous that you’re just standing in front of him with crossed arms and not saying anything after everything he told you.  

Soon, you can’t hold it in even longer. You burst into laughter and giggled loudly. Bringing Haechan closer to you and cupping his handsome face, admiring how cute he is with panic eyes. “It’s a joke. I’m sorry I made you nervous, handsome” you put your arms around Haechan’s neck and watch him get playfully annoyed to you. He shook his head on disbelief because you’re the only person who can match with his wit.

“Kiss me again?” you asked oh so sweetly, raking his soft hair.

He nods his head and kissed you again, softer than before and even meaningful than the first. You felt him smile in between kissing when you finally kissed him back. Savouring the feeling of your lips on his and the warmth of your embrace. And when the kiss is over, he puts his thumb on your lips, swiping the spit on those pretty lips. “Is this finally good night?” he asked, still looking at your lips.

“Sad to say, yes. Unless you find a way to climb up quietly to my room?”

He let out a soft giggle, “No. I don’t want to move so fast. Talk to you when I get home?”

“Yes please” before you two part ways, he gave you one last peck on the lips and finally let you go.

When Haechan got home, you were tucked in bed and waiting for your phone to ring and answer his call. And when he finally did, you two can’t see it but you’re both smiling widely while talking to each other and just hearing each other’s voices makes your heart flutter. It didn’t bother you two if the sun is shinning brightly already, Haechan waited for you to get tired and eventually fall asleep. Before he ends the call, he whispered a soft good night through the phone and went to bed with a smile.

ROUND 3

Come Monday, you were just telling Yeri about your weekend with Haechan and his friends and talking like how you two normally do around school when Lia blocked your way out on the girl’s restroom. “So you’re the new girl? If it wasn’t for you, Hyuck and I would still be together. You just had to ruin everything we’ve built for our relationship when you decided to go to this school”  

“Not my fault you didn’t locked him up before I transfer schools. But it is my fault that you’re single now” you flashed a teasing smile at her before you head out and made sure to bump her shoulder on purpose. That would teach her a lesson and she will definitely know you’re not just anybody.

Truth be told you don’t want any fight because of someone who doesn’t understand the core meaning of the word ‘breakup.’ It’s clear that she’s just mad that you’re seeing Haechan now and that he’s more than happy with the relationship. But you can’t let someone treat you bad just because you got who you want, fair and square.

After school, you and Haechan went to his house to do some studying for English Literature. You love how it’s so quiet around their neighbourhood and the golden ray of light hits Haechan’s skin perfectly. From now on, golden hours with Haechan will be your thing.

You two sat on their hammock swing chair at their backyard, enjoying the golden hour by talking and giggling like little kids on a swing. “Who made this swing? I feel like I’m a baby” you said, feeling so comfortable beside Haechan.

“You are a baby. My baby” he raised his eyebrows once and winked at you. As your heart flutter because of what he said, you rolled your eyes at him and gave him a peck on the lips. Just a peck, because you knew all too well he will ask for more.

“What? That’s it? Just a peck?” he whines on disappointment.

“Yes. That’s all, come on. Homework time” breaking away from his embrace, you force yourself to stand up and convince Haechan to start studying. He brought you to your room so you two could focus on studying and to have some privacy after doing the homework.

“Guess who blocked my way at the girl’s restroom earlier” you sat on Haechan’s lap and put your arms around his neck.

“I know. Jeno told me he found Lia crying with Yeji and Ryunjin” he starts kissing your neck then realised he shouldn’t. “Listen, that girl is drama and I know you can take care of her but I just want to have a peaceful relationship with you. Please, just ignore her. These people will bring you down, and the more you notice them the more they will ruin you”

And it’s true what Haechan said, for the following weeks Lia’s group of friends has been hating you with all their might. Typical high school bullies who won’t stop at nothing but when Haechan took care of it, you felt so proud and safe. The look on Lia’s face when Haechan stood up for you in front of everyone definitely gave you the satisfaction and happiness. From there on, no one dares to meddle with your relationship with Haechan.

Things has been great between you and Haechan, you met his sister and his parents which are all adorable. Although his mom is still in favor with Lia, but nonetheless she respects Haechan’s decision.

After graduation, you spend too much time on Haechan’s place and sometimes things can go out of control. In the middle of making out with Haechan, your eyes widened when he suddenly slips his hand under your shirt and pull down the left cup of your bra. It felt uncomfortable and violating so you pushed him away from you.

“Nah, I’m not falling for that” you can’t believe what you’re hearing from your boyfriend and it’s making you crazy how suffocating it felt the whole time he was groping your boobs and pinching your nipples. Haechan thought you pushing him away was a prank like the one you did when he kissed you for the first time.

But he heard you sobbing and it made him stop. “Shit- shit! I’m sorry” he covered you with his thick duvet and gave you space. He went downstairs to get you a glass of water and slightly hated himself for what he just did to you.

Before he came back, you convinced yourself that he didn’t mean it and that your boyfriend is not a bad person. You made yourself presentable again and wiped your tears not wanting your boyfriend to see you scared around him. The moment he knocks on the door your heart jumped and you got nervous again, feeling your tears fall but you don’t know why.

He gave you a glass of water and you accepted it with shaking hands. Haechan sat on the edge of his bed, turning his back on you because he knew what he just did. He violated you and he didn’t even stop when you told him to, you don’t know but deep inside he’s punishing himself for being like that.

The two of you stayed away from each other for a good twenty minutes. Then you crawled towards him slowly and hugged him from behind, he’s more than happy that you don’t hate him and that you’re not going to breakup with him. “This will never happen again, I promise. I will never rush you ever again”

And it’s a promise he kept.

ROUND 4

When Haechan promised you that he will take it slow and not rush you with anything, he kept his word.

But now that you two are heading to college and spending the whole summer together as much as you can, you two can’t get enough of each other. There are times when you two will just lay down the swing, enjoy the quietness of the afternoon and watch the sun go down. Hands intertwined and legs tangled.

Some days are extra fun when you two help his sister bake anything she wants from cookies to cupcakes and Haechan will end up making a mess at the kitchen. Then by night you three will enjoy what you guys made while watching scary movies on Netflix.

And even though you’re still a virgin and so inexperienced compared to Haechan, you two find a way to feed your sex life without going all the way. You finally let him touch you without pushing him away or feeling violated, little by little you learned how to let go.

You remember when Haechan finger fucked you for the first time, you were so nervous because anyone can step in the living room and see that Haechan is on top of you. “Keep it down, my sister is on the other room” his kisses on your neck are not like any other, now it’s wet and his hands are all over your body. Kneading your clothed boobs, squeezing it a little harsh because he’s too horny. You can’t say you don’t like what he’s doing because you love it. Every part of it.

You love how his hands cups your boobs while he’s busy kissing your neck and you make quiet moans that Haechan loves so much. There were no talking the whole time, just pure kissing and quiet everything. You don’t have to ask him to do something because he knew perfectly well what you want. The couch is a bit uncomfortable for two people grinding on each other and kissing hungrily but no one seems to care.

“We won’t go all the way, I promise” he said but his hands are creeping under your skirt and on its way to remove your panties. “But we will go pretty far tonight, is that okay?” you nod your head nervously. To be honest he’s nervous too. Scared even. Scared that maybe you won’t approve of what he’s going to do and push him away again. You on the other hand really have no idea why he needs to remove your panties if he promised not to have sex with you tonight.

Heat surrounds your body when you saw Haechan put your panties on their coffee table. The living room is dark but once you opened your knees and lift your skirt, he will see your pussy for the first time. You breathe deeply when you felt his cold hands on top of your knee, ready to spread your legs open. “Shit- baby, stop” he stopped and gave you his jacket to cover your exposed legs. “Just give me a minute. I’m really shy right now, I don’t know why. Fuck, I’m sorry Hyuck”

“It’s okay, do you want to go to the bathroom to wear your panties?”

“No no, I don’t want to stop. Just getting shy that’s all. This will pass” it’s true you don’t want him to stop because you’re too horny now. “Kiss me?” he smiled and gave your request. You put away his jacket and pulled him close to you. Now you’re leaning comfortably on the armrest of their couch while Haechan kiss you softly. “I think I’m ready now” you told him in between kisses, but instead of making his move he just smiled at you and continue kissing you.

“I’ll tell you when you’re ready”

You don’t know what does that mean. You just enjoyed how he kisses you so filthy for the first time while his hands are resting on your closed legs. His tongue moves perfectly around your neck, leaving marks on the exposed skin of your cleavage and whispering dirty words that makes your legs spread unconsciously and put him right in between you.

“See, now you’re ready. You’re pretty wild yourself baby, spreading your legs for me huh” he teased you in between kisses that made you smile. Who would’ve thought spreading your legs for Haechan would feel really great.

In middle of feeling Haechan’s tongue dance around your neck and your hands are busy keeping him closer to your body, you feel his right hand made it’s way in between your legs and made contact with your wet folds. Without hesitation, you rolled your head back and closed your eyes as you enjoy his middle finger glide up and down your slit and spread your pussy juices.

Of course he knows what he’s doing, he watched you to melt with his touch underneath him while he play with your pussy. And again, unconsciously, you grind your hips on his finger completely letting go of your innocence. This will definitely not the first and last time Haechan will do this to you.

As your mind floats on how good Haechan makes you feel good, he flicks his finger a little faster, pinching your clit to make you moan, and finally putting his finger inside you. It made you open your eyes and look him in the eye. “that’s like a sneak peek on what it feels like to be fucked. Not even close but for the mean time, I’ll make cum using my fingers”

Your lips touched as he pumps his finger inside you, adding digits without any warning so you can have the full experience. Being quiet became a challenge when you’re finally on edge and Haechan’s fingers were still inside you while he’s whispering dirty things beside your ear. He needed to cover your mouth to muffle your moans when you finally came, closing your legs, crushing his arm in between them to ease the sensitivity of your clenching pussy.

“I fucking love you Lee Haechan”

ROUND 5

After slowly introducing you to more sexual activities you two are now bold and confident about touching each other. After a lot of trial and errors, you’re now an expert of sucking your boyfriend’s dick whenever you two are alone at their living room. You now happily open your legs for him to eat your pussy in your room and you let him finger you during Netflix and chill with his sister.

And now, after you suck him off and make him moan for the first time, you finally told him that you want to have sex with him and that you’re ready to go all the way. With no questions asked, Haechan helped you remove your clothes quickly and you did the same with him. Ending up fully naked in Haechan’s bed is making you shy like the first time he touched you and this is not good.

“Baby, calm the fuck down... stop moving” he giggle at you while lining his dick to your dripping entrance. The head of his dick is finally inside when you hiss again closing your legs and moving away from him. Telling him that it fucking hurts, even though it wasn’t even in yet.

“It wont hurt, I got you! You’re fucking dripping for crying out loud. Sliding in wont be a problem. Come on” he taps and caress both your thighs as he waits for you to open your legs again for him. Slowly he touches your soft skin, admiring how you stayed a virgin for him, your skin is glowing because of the golden sunlight from the window beside his bed.

Opening your legs again, Haechan kneels in between you and hooks both of his arms under your legs so you won’t get to close them again. “Line my cock so I can push in” you followed him like a good girl as he leans closer to your face for a kiss. His cock just perfectly lined to your cunt while you both kiss and enjoy each other’s sweet lips. Sweating and really nervous, he felt your chest move up and down against his and noticed that you’re getting scared every second that passes.

“Baby, it’s me, Haechan. Your boyfriend. Why are you being like this? Hmm? I thought you wanted this?” his tone was telling you to trust him because he’s your boyfriend. Telling you oh so sweetly to calm down or else he will stop and put your clothes back on. Still not moving from his position, Haechan didn’t want you to be scared before pushing his cock inside you so he continued talking to you.

“S-sorry. Just stuff running in my head. S-scared but I- yeah, I want this. Fuck, baby I want this to happen so bad. Can you just force it? Don’t wait for me to calm down?” You beg your boyfriend but he shook his head no.

“Where’s the love in that if I force this in you? I’ll kiss you while I go in, hows that?” the offer wasn’t bad, you nod agreeing to him and his lips touch yours the moment you nod.

Waiting for the perfect time to push in, Haechan can be really patient when it comes to you. When he felt you let go, he slowly pushed in and you swear you stopped breathing for a moment. Taking a second to finally believe that Haechan is fucking you now. Speechless the whole time as you feel him go inside you, you stare at his eyes shining because of the afternoon light.

Your hand flew to his face, gripping his chin and jaw as you feel slightly betrayed. “You said it wouldn’t hurt?” a small tear run down your eye as you feel the stretch of your cunt stinging so bad you can’t stop whimpering.

“Sshh. Of course it will hurt baby. Can you feel this?” Haechan was half moaning and grunting while talking to you, moving his cock in and out slowly to prove his point not pulling out entirely. You nod your head, moaning deliciously. Feeling how he’s so good, lips parted as you wait for him to be balls deep inside you, letting go a low “ooh” once he’s fully inside.

You reach in for his lips again devouring it while you clench and unclench all you want. “You won’t cum if we just keep on kissing. Stop luring me you minx” he kissed your left boob, biting and sucking it as he rolls his hips a little giving you a peak of what’s about to happen. Haechan pull away when he felt you stiffen again, hips roll slowly as you get familiar with the stretch.

“Sensitive baby, I cant-“

“Of course you can you’re my girl”

Without a warning he gave you piercing thrust, enough to make your boobs bounce. Licking the valley between your breast before you could curse him out. Reaching for your hands as he brings them both on top of your head together with the pillows, fucking you with a steady and fast pace.

“I love you. You know that right?” A breathy and weak “yes” escaped from your mouth. Toes curling already as you feel that knot on your lower abdomen.

After a few fast thrust and some delicious slow ones that you specifically loved, you reached your much awaited high and Haechan pulled his dick out and pumps it in front of you. Ruining his perfect blue sheets. Making you horny and crave for your boyfriend again, you reach in for another condom,  “Again, Haechan please let’s make round two a little longer”

He let out a small laugh as he lays beside you, fingertips scraping on your golden skin. “So now you’re begging me to fuck you again huh, okay. Round 2 in five minutes, I need to catch my breath” he said and left a kiss on your shoulders.

.........................................................................

Masterlist

First of all thank you for reading! This is inspired by Link and Tracy’s love story in Hairspray. I just rewatched it earlier and damn I forgot how I used to love every song in that movie. Hope you guys can watch it :) Also listen to I can hear the bells hihi.

[jessie-writes-things]

Too Far From Home

This was a test for the table fic. I always like to do test runs to get a feel for the character's dynamics before writing longer pieces, plus I haven't done anything full-on smutty in a while, so wanted to ease myself back into it. Still not the best, but I hope it's getting better! 😅

Based on a combination of these smutty prompts.

Pairing: King Arthur x Female Reader

Words: 1k

Genre: Smut

Warnings: P/V, fingering. It's pretty tame. There's some dirty talk if you can even call it that. 😂

Notes: There's absolutely no logic to any of this. There is plot and really no editing. Why are they there? 🤷‍♀️ What is their relation? 🤷‍♀️ Where the fuck did that cloth come from at the end? 🤷‍♀️ Was there actually someone spying on them? 🤷‍♀️ Who knows.

There were a million and one places better suited for this situation, but the problem was they were all too far away. So, you made do with a tree, somewhat secluded deep in the woods. Or so Arthur said it was out of bounds from prying, a boyish smirk playing on his lips as he pressed you against the trunk. There was no space between the two of you, and you could feel another trunk growing against your leg.

‘We’re fine.’ No time was wasted as deft fingers explored under your skirt, lifting it just enough for him to catch glimpse of the holder secured around your thigh, dagger still neatly in its little hiding place and you could feel Arthur’s warm amusement against your neck as he kissed you, ‘No one ever comes here.’

His fingers were creeping higher and higher, lips threatening to attack that sweet spot just below your jaw and it was getting increasingly hard not to lose every ounce of control right there and then, ‘Apart from us?’

‘Apart from us.’ Arthur humoured your anxieties, twisted with a smile. He made easy work pleasing you, kissing and licking every single spot along your neck, paying particular attention to the places that made you squirm for him. But his own arousal threatened to get the better of him, reaching the place he had been searching for only to let out a low groan when he found you were already bear for him, ‘Fuck me.’

‘Don’t think that was the plan, but we could always try.’ You quipped but were eating your words three seconds later when two of those fingers pushed into you without a moment's notice, catching your moan with a sharp breath. The last thing you wanted was some perve to catch you because you were screaming, although you were sure Arthur would have no problem with that whatsoever, ‘Bastard.’

His brow shot up, ‘Play nice or you won’t get fucked.’

At this point, you weren’t sure what was worse; getting caught or not having the chance to get caught.

You moved with him, pushing him deeper, fingers curled around his neck as you tugged his lips down to yours, needing anything to mask the obscene sounds spilling from your mouth. Every little movement of his was magic, sending bolts of energy buzzing through your entire being and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer when he found the place deep inside you that turned your knees weak, thumb brushing against the appendix of your thighs at an almost brutal speed.

But you didn’t have time for that. Not here, at least.

Arthur looked near damn offended when you grabbed his wrist and pulled him away. But that look didn’t last long when you brought his fingers to your mouth, sucking the mess away so he wouldn’t have to dirty his clothes doing so. Because God forbid Wet Stick or Back Lack caught wind to anything of the kind. That was a level of humiliation you would never be able to live down.

Not that having your bear arse rubbing against the ruff bark of a tree was any better, your skirt hiked up around your waist, your legs around his, trousers pulled to his knees because any more would just be a waste of time.

And there was no time for niceties, hips slapping into yours hard enough to have you begging for air. You were already so close and he could feel that, the sticky wetness dripping onto his leg and he managed to get the shirt of your dress down far enough to free your breast. The hot midsummer air was nothing in comparison to the warmth of his mouth, sucking and nipping at any exposed flesh he could reach before taking one of your pert nipples between his teeth with enough pressure to have you seeing stars.

A twig snapped. Arthur stilled, still buried deep inside you, turning to look in the direction of the sound.

The woods had darkened significantly from when you first got here, dusk falling fast but from what you could see no one was there. Or at least you hoped no one was there as you guided Arthur back to you, fingers pulled in his mused hair just hard enough to have him gasping into your mouth, ‘You wanted to fuck me here, so fuck me.’

And fuck you he did with a growl rumbled deep in his chest, feeling it against your own and suddenly he was pounding into you like his life depended on it. Fingers gripped at your thigh, your hip, anywhere to keep you from moving.

You didn’t last much longer, not when he was fucking you so well, pulling wave after wave of pleasure from you until you were limp in his arms, mewling softly, his ruthless pace never faltering. Not that he was far behind, a few more thrusts and he was a dead man, spilling into you until it was leaking down your thigh.

Your bones felt too heavy to move and you honestly contemplated if it were worth just sleeping where you were for the night. Dusk had fully set in, casting the woodland in a golden glow, birds getting out their last songs as the air slowly began to cool.

Arthur was the first to pull away, although not far, just enough to give you both back some decency, using the same cloth he used to clean his sword to wipe your legs before shoving it back in his pocket, all the while wearing a goofy smile across his face, ‘You’re never leaving for that long again.’

[hyuckssunchip]

Redemption Pt. 2

Pairings: Jungwoo x reader, ft. Johnny, Jaehyun, Mark

Words: 2.3K

Warnings: Language (there is almost always language in my writings), some angst

Summary:

Y/N finds Jungwoo in a compromising position weeks after their breakup. A list of misunderstandings leads to outcomes neither of them can bear to handle. Will the two of them be able to move past this and sort things out again? Or is there no room for redemption?

Part 1 | Part 2 |

The tickets from the movie of our first date

"Hey I'm sorry I'm late." There was a breathless voice that came from across the room. A boy in a grey shirt stood before his date and she blushed shaking her head.

You reached for another piece of popcorn, slowly chewing on the piece before sighing and reaching for another.

As the last call for your movie showed on the big screen you glanced at your watch again.

"Is this your movie?" He was tall, wearing a baby blue shirt and wore a thin pair of spectacles. Definitely not your blind date.

You sighed.

"Yeah, it's supposed to be."

"Supposed to be? You don't want to watch it anymore?" He asked, taking the seat in front of you.

"My date stood me up." You said bluntly, "I'm not really in the mood for a romance movie right now."

"How about murder mystery?" He flashed two tickets in the air, and sent you a sweet smile.

"Murder mystery? You don't really seem the type." You laughed, looking at the screen one last time. Perhaps this was a blessing in disguise.

“Excuse me? I’ll have you know that this is research and I kill people on my down time.”

You cringed at him.

“Okay, that was bad, I know. But don’t you pity me now? Now you have to join this loser for a movie date.” He smiled, his dimples on display.

You laughed standing up from your chair, “If you promise never to say stuff like that again, I’ll join you.”

“So it worked!” he fist pumped the air before skipping the way to the right theater with you in tow.

Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

“I can’t believe that it was the police officer the whole time!” You spoke animatedly, genuinely shocked that you spent the majority of the movie liking the man.

“I know right! People are so crooked.” He said, shaking his head on disappointment. “But what a great plot twist right?”

“Yeah I thought for sure that it was the store owner. I mean who carries around a metal wedge like that?” You nodded enthusiastically, way too into the conversation.

Jungwoo laughed beside you. “So you don’t regret joining me?”

“Nope, I think I rather enjoyed myself.” You sent him a cheesy smile when you noticed that the two of you had already made it to the exit.

You didn’t want this to end quite yet.

Almost as if he sense your hesitation he spoke up. “How about dessert? There’s this fantastic ice cream shop just down the street and I’d love to treat you, y’know cause I just stole two hours of your time.” He grinned softly.

“I’d love that.” You couldn’t help the smile that was bursting to break free.

“Then shall we?” He asked in a fake posh manner, sticking out his elbow for you to grab onto.

“We shall.” You linked your arm and his and the two of you left for the shop.

The evening had started out sour, but like always Jungwoo managed to bring a little extra spark into your life. Imagine if he had never come up to you that evening, imagine if he had never stepped foot in that movie theater. You might’ve lost out on the most important thing in your life and never started your journey with Jungwoo. Where would you be now?

JUNGWOO’S POV

PRESENT DAY

The movie ticket of our first date.

The three boys looked down at the list and contemplated what they should do next. 

“Okay, how am I supposed to find movie tickets with the same movie and date?” Jungwoo groaned. “This isn’t going to work it’s just stupid.”

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine. All we need to do is get comfortable with photoshop. Right? It’s not like it’s that hard to make a pretend movie ticket.” Jaehyun rested his hand on Jungwoo’s shoulder, “It’ll be fine.”

“Sure it will.”

“Do you atleast remember the movie? And date?” Mark asked, notebook already in his hands again.

“Of course I do. How could I forget?” The last bit he muttered under his breath, but still loud enough that the boys could hear him. 

They gave each other pitying looks.

“Right. Write it down then.”

Jungwoo’s hands moved on its own. 

“Dude! No way! That’s what you watched on your first date?” Mark couldn’t help but giggle at the title, earning a glare from Jungwoo and a shove from Johnny.

“Dude. Not helping.” Johnny shook his head at the youngest before turning back to Jungwoo.

“Sorry. It’s just that they’re making a sequel to that. It came out last week.”

Jungwoo cringed at the thought, vowing not to watch it.

“Was it good?” Jaehyun asked, more interested in the movie than the current situation.

“Yeah! God you would not believe the plot twist there. It was awesome, I would totally watch it again-”

Johnny shoved the two of them. “Guys, not important right now.”

Jungwoo had retreated back, heads in his arms again and sighed, hearing the others talk.

“Sorry.”

You didn’t know how you got yourself dragged to the movie theater in the middle of the week. It was Wednesday and it seemed like all of a sudden your friends decided that movie night could be moved up a few days.

“Popcorn?”

You nodded haphazardly in response to your best friend Jennie’s question. 

“Cool, I’ll wait in line, go ahead and go to the bathroom, I can see you squirming from here. I’ll meet you in the theatre.”

You sent her a look of relief, and rushed towards the bathroom. 

Staring at yourself in the reflection of the mirror, you couldn’t help but notice the large black circles under your eyes. You rubbed them once more before heading to the theatre. 

Jennie had picked out the movie, dragging you along and you pulled out the ticket that she shoved into your hands the moment you walked in the building. 

Theatre 2 B14.

That should be easy enough to find. Although your direction skills could always use improving.

You froze as you stood before your theatre, noticing the large poster next to it. 

No.

You recognized the familiar poster, same cast, give or take a few, but it was almost identical to the one you remembered as your first encounter with Jungwoo.

You scrambled for your phone and typed in the title of the movie, your heart dropping at the description. It was the sequel. 

Your feet refused to move, stuck in the same spot and you heard a loud bang coming from the theatre. The commercials had already started. 

A group of teenagers bumped into your shoulder trying to enter the theatre, you stumbled forward, hearing the faint giggles and muttered apologies. 

It was the push that you needed to make your way into the theatre. 

As you walked up the aisles to find your seat you felt a wave of anxiety as you noted the group of rowdy boys in the seats next to yours. 

You sighed, knowing that you were in for a uncomfortable movie. 

Taking your seat, the boy next to you turned to give you a hesitant smile, almost as an offering of an apology in advance. 

Your blood ran cold. 

“Jungwoo?” It came out as a whisper, catching in your throat, but it was undeniable that he heard you.

He gulped, eyes fluttering across your face.

The noise next to you seemed to hush, a familiar voice called out to you, tearing you from Jungwoo’s face.

“Y/N?” Mark couldn’t control the amount of shock as well as the other boys, letting you know that you were the last person they were expecting. You lifted your hand into a shy wave, to which they returned, leaning back into their respective seats.

“So...”

You turned awkwardly to your ex, waiting for him to continue.

“Are you excited for the movie?”

You raised your eyebrows, the idea of small talk still uncomfortable to you.

“Yeah, I guess... I hope it lives up to the first one.” You blushed in memory of your first date brought up subtly.

Although it was dark, the red tint on Jungwoo’s was noticeable by you.

“Yeah... I heard it was good though, Mark’s already watched it and he dragged the rest of us here again.” His voice dropped a few octaves, lowering as the commercials got quiet as well.

You nodded, facing the screen, refusing to take your eyes off of it.

“Y/N.” There was a hiss coming from your right, you found Jennie desperately trying to find your form before initiating a crouch run to your side. She sank into the seat and leaned towards you, not noticing the boy next to you.

“I’m so so so sorry. But Lucas just asked me to pick him up from school. My mom stranded him again and he won’t stop calling.” She grimaced and looked at you apologetically.

Your eyes widened, realizing that she was planning on leaving you here. 

“He’s been waiting for three hours and I actually think he’ll try to kill me in my sleep if I don’t go to pick him up.”

You nodded, knowing that Lucas may be younger than his sister, but he was ten times bigger and had enough passion in him to do so.

“Okay.” You moved to get up, you didn’t really want to stay here alone. “I’ll come with you.”

“No. You should stay for the movie, we already paid and movie tickets are not cheap. Plus I think you’ll like this one, it looks right up your alley. I’ll call you tomorrow.” She shoved the bucket of popcorn into your lap and left before you could respond.

You sighed, slumping in your seat and picking at the pieces of popcorn that sat on top.

Jungwoo looked over at your side profile nervously from his seat.

You were tempted to move into Jennie’s unoccupied seat, eager to distance yourself from Jungwoo. But your body didn’t move.

His eyes followed the movement of your fingers, aching to reach out and grasp them in his own.

Less focused on the beginning of the movie and more concentrated on the bucket in front of you, you could feel yourself eating your way through your anxiety of the situation.

You choked slightly, turning red from embarrassment and tried to suppress the urge to cough.

You felt a nudge in your side, Jungwoo slid his drink towards you, and invitation to relieve your throat of pain.

You hesitated, as childish as it seemed you really didn’t want to drink from the same cup as him, but you were suffering.

You gave him a thankful smile and sipped for moment until you felt alright again.

In return you stuck the bucket of popcorn out towards him, after all there was no way that you could finish the whole thing on your own.

Halfway through the movie you felt the warmth of his hand graze yours as you simultaneously reached for a handful. As cliche as it seemed you felt sparks fly up your arm and you flinched pulling away, watching him do the same.

You hated that you still felt your heart rush at the close proximity. You hated that  he still made you nervous. You hated that you still had these feelings.

Before you knew it the closing credits had rolled across the screen and the lights of the theatre began to fade on.

From the corner of your eye you could see as the other boys stretched and stood up, making their way out of the theatre. It was only you and Jungwoo now.

You avoided eye contact, moving to make your exit. He followed.

The bright lights of the lobby had you blinking in distress. Johnny grinned at your fazed state and walked the group over to where you were standing, Jungwoo steps behind.

“Hey Y/N.” Jaehyun waved shyly at you before shoving his hands back into his pocket.

You smiled in response before turning to face Johnny, who looked like he was dying to say something.

“Y/N fancy seeing you here.” There was a grin that crossed his face, he looked too happy to be seeing you here.

You furrowed your eyebrows and nodded at him, not saying anything.

Standing awkwardly in the group you glanced at your phone checking the time. It was getting late and you groaned suddenly realizing that Jennie had left earlier. You no longer had a ride. 

You grimaced, pulling your phone out to text her, then realized that it was best not to bother her,  as she was dealing with a very upset Lucas.

“What’s up?” Johnny asked, peering over at your screen.

“Nothing.” You sighed, “I just remembered that my ride left earlier. I should go now to see if I could catch the bus.”

He shook his head, “No way, why don’t you let us give you a ride?”

“Oh. You wouldn’t mind?” As much as you hated the thought of being confined in a car with the four of the them, it was much better than getting on the sketchy bus that comes by every hour.

“Of course not, the bus is gross.” You nodded thankfully.

“Oh, that makes things easy then, could we pick up my box of things on the way then?” You asked, remembering that Johnny said they were at his place.

There was a pause, and you didn’t miss the look the three of them gave each other.

“I-uh... I forgot I actually have this thing I have to go to, with Mark and Jaehyun. Jungwoo, why don’t you drop her off?”

Your eyes widened at him. 

Jungwoo nodded more enthusiastically than you expected him to. 

You glanced at him, reluctantly following his lead. 

How bad could one car ride be?

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[rafesgfs]

love me, hate me - part two

Warnings: explicit sexual content, swearing

Word count: 3.3k

Summary: Christmas comes around and Ransom wants you more than ever.

part one

"You're telling me you actually want to date this guy? The one who can't even make you cum?" you asked, licking the remaining frosting from your finger. You placed the messy bowl in the sink, watching your best friend trying—and failing—to get the egg shells out of the mixture.

Meg gave up, dumping the brownie batter down the sink with the water running, fed up with the shells. "Yeah, but sex isn't everything, you know. I don't know—it's just this guy isn't like my exes. He genuinely cares about my feelings, and doesn't control me. Besides, he made me cum a few times. He's nice."

With Mariah Carey's Christmas music playing in the background, the miniature Christmas tree on the table, and the snow falling, the Thrombey household felt festive. Although, the people bundled up and arguing in the next room—not so much. Yet, neither of you cared while you continued to work, helping Martha out, on the desserts. It wasn't going as well as planned, but you took it as a positive considering you hadn't started a fire. Yet.

"Ah, yes, nice. Can't relate. I'm currently attracted to assholes who have anger issues." you commented, passing Meg the flour once again. Your creation was in the oven, and all you hoped was that no one got food poisoning because of it. Even you couldn't live with the guilt of Ransom, or his touchy father, throwing up Christmas morning.

"Currently?" Meg asked, raising an eyebrow, getting eggs out of the fridge for the hundredth time. She glanced at the direction of the door, the sound of it opening drawing both of your attention. "I'm pretty sure your daddy issues didn't just happen recently. Speaking of which, you may be the main reason Ransom decided to come back for Christmas instead chasing a model around."

You rolled your eyes, sitting back in your chair while contemplating whether or not it's too late to ditch. While Ransom was hot, his spoiled attitude wasn't worth tolerating for a quick fuck. With sarcasm dripping, you sighed. "Oh, how wonderful. 'Cause, that's exactly what I need right now."

Meg chuckled, focusing on the task at hand, trying not get shells in the mixture again. She had held off on mixing the dry stuff, much to your dismay, but to her it made sense to get the hard part out of the way so it wouldn't fuck everything up. Your best friend had just finished cracking her last egg when Harlan walked into the kitchen, Ransom trailing a few feet behind him. The playboy's eyes immediately landed on you, yet you didn't meet his, too preoccupied with the phone in your hands.

Harlan's slight frown lifted into a smile, surveying how messy the kitchen had gotten. "My, my, I wasn't aware a cake had exploded in my kitchen."

Looking up, you grinned at the old man, the smile reaching your eyes until you saw who was behind him. Ignoring Ransom, you giggled at Harlan's remark. "You call it a mess, we call it baking."

"As long as you ladies are having fun." Harlan replied, patting your shoulder before heading off towards his office, too tired to deal with his dysfunctional family at the moment.

Ransom lingered, walking up to you, a smirk impended on his face. Yet, you refocused you're attention back on your phone while Meg left the room, her apron still attached to her. You didn't question her sudden disappearance, knowing she was just as annoyed at Ransom's presence. The man in question peeked over you shoulder to see your screen showing off another man's dick, the words right below it explicit.

His jaw clenched in jealousy. Much to his chagrin, the man's dick was just as big as his own. But, he kept the icy exterior up. "Would it be offensive to ask whether or not your baking will make me sick this evening?"

You scoffed without looking up, tapping out of the dick pic your previous hook up had sent. "Since when do you care if you're offensive or not? Who are you, and what have you done to Ransom Drysdale?"

Ransom shrugged, leaning against the kitchen island while facing your annoyed expression. His smug behavior got under your skin, and the bastard was well aware. "Maybe all this Christmas spirit got into me. Or maybe I'm trying to be nice."

You raised an eyebrow, getting off your chair, rushing to the window, pretending to be looking for something. After a few seconds, Ransom's curiosity got the best of him and he joined you, looking for anything unusual outside. The snow-covered land showed nothing out of the ordinary, furthering Ransom's confusion.

"What are you looking at? I can't see anything." he said, squinting at the general direction you had look at.

Shrugging, you moved back to your seat, propping your elbows on the back of the chair, allowing a smug smirk lift your lips. "I thought pigs were flying. Ransom Drysdale isn't capable of being nice, yet alone say the word. I'm shocked hell hadn't freeze over. Yet."

The playboy rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he took your body in, wrapped in his favorite color, the dress hugging your curves. "What's a guy have to do to be taken seriously with you? You and I both know I can give you everything you want, and more."

"Are you trying to buy me right now?" you asked, half teasing, half annoyed. Ransom could not take a hint, and you hated the fact that he didn't back off despite the sarcasm and insults you threw his way.

"I'm trying to be nice but you're making it really hard." Ransom answered, his cockiness wearing off. He was growing frustrated the more you looked at him like he was a piece of trash. All you wanted him to be was nice, now that he was trying to be, you wouldn't believe his intentions, despite wanting to prove it to you.

Pursing your lips, you tapped your finger against the table, the acrylic nail making a clicking noise. "You wanna prove it? Fine. You've got til midnight tonight. If you're unable to change my mind, you have to buy me my spring break vacation, all the fees and expenses."

"And if I do change your mind..." Ransom smirked, brushing a stray hair behind your ear, earning a half-hearted glare. "... you have to go on a date with me."

Ransom nearly burst out laughing from your shocked expression, the genuine look of surprised slapped on your face with the words. You shut your hanging jaw, still not processing what he was saying. "Excuse me?"

"You have to go on a date with me if I convince you that I'm willing to change my, and I quote, 'bratty and douchebag ways.' An actual date where we sit down, eat dinner, talk about our feelings, and get drunk. Whatever happens, happens." Ransom purred, placing a finger on your bottom lip. You slapped his hand away, and his smirked grew. "Are you going to back out of this already, princess?"

It was your stubborn side that made agree, pressing your lips into a thin line, you grabbed Ransom's hand, shaking it. He raised an eyebrow while you sighed. "You're on. Hope you have enough money to pay for a lengthy trip. I plan on drinking every bottle of wine in Italy."

Despite your baking debacle, you left the kitchen, leaving Meg's monstrous creation on the counter along with Ransom. You went into the living room, trying to find the girl in question when you happened to stumble upon Richard. He barely got to say a word before you turned around, and left the pervert behind. It was always a puzzle how Ransom turned out so hot with Richard and Linda as parents.

Climbing the stairs, you heard the family arguing growing quieter with each step. The second floor was almost a safe haven considering Harlan didn't let anyone raise their voice in the upper level, making it the only quiet place in the house, safe from any Thrombey fights. It was a wonder how the family hadn't murdered each other yet; it was only a matter of time.

Unable to find Meg in your shared room, you sighed, patting your body to find your phone only to realize you left it in the kitchen. With Ransom.

"Looking for this?" Ransom held out your phone, coming up behind you. His usual smirk was gone, a small, genuine smile in its place. It made him look less arrogant.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

You took your phone back, half expecting him to take it back just as you wrapped your fingers around it. But he didn't. You realized he was pulling out all the stops, all the little things that you found annoying was gone. He was acting. Eyes narrowing, you unlocked your phone, studying him. "Thanks. I think."

"Meg is helping the Brazilian maid." Ransom answered your silent question. Your thumb hovered her contact, going back to the home screen. Your eyebrows had risen by his mis-categorization of Martha's race and employment. "Pretty sure they went to the grocery store or something."

"Oh, okay." you replied lamely, putting your phone in your back pocket, the tight jeans making it nearly impossible. Opening the door to your room, you stepped in, not giving Ransom another look. But he followed inside, making you turn around. "Do you need something?"

Ransom stuffed his hands in his pockets, the cream-colored sweater shifting with the gesture. "You didn't exactly give me much time to prove myself. And looking around, we're all alone. I can't think of a better time."

As much as you hated to admit it, he had a point. The bet was a bit unfair considering how stubborn you were, and the amount of time he had to convince you. But it was a bit unsettling seeing Ransom try so hard, let alone being nice. You nodded, agreeing. "Fine, but can I change first? I'd rather not be covered in flour while you try to seduce me."

"You and I both know I wouldn't seduce you before dinner. There's no way in hell I'd treat you like the others." he mumbled to himself, but you heard it. Clearing his throat, he stepped out of the room. "Yeah, I'll be outside. Waiting. Take your time."

As soon as the door closed, you looked around the room to check if you were being pranked, expecting Ashton Kutcher to burst out of the closet along with a bunch of cameramen. After a few seconds, you came to the conclusion that Supernatural was in this universe, deciding "Ransom" was a shapeshifter or a demon possessed him. It was the only reasonable explanation.

Reaching for the hem of your top, pulling it off in one swift move, dropping it on the bed. Your jeans piling on top, allowing your legs to breathe. Despite Joni's hippie side, she had let Meg sneak in a few joints, the smell becoming stronger as you neared both your suitcases. You didn't think Harlan would be too please to have weed in his house, no matter how lenient he is.

You took your time, a little baffled by what to wear. Ransom hadn't exactly given you an agenda on his plans, leaving you to grab a clean pair of black jeans, and a classy, yet simple, red top. You looked decent enough to fit in a nice restaurant, but casual in case Ransom decided he wanted McDonald's, and most importantly: warm. If he wanted to take you to the North Pole, then he'd have to give you his cozy-looking sweater.

You opened the door, the sight of Ransom rocking on his heels greeting you. His back was to you, his hands inside his pockets as he looked out the window, frost crawling along the edges. It genuinely concerned you how much this man was acting; if you didn't know better, you'd think it was real.

Clearing your throat, you watched him jump in surprise, quickly turning to you. Raising an eyebrow, you tucked your phone in your pocket, meeting his warm, blue eyes. "I'm ready."

"Okay." said Ransom, motioning for you to follow him. You walked down the stairs without a word, the air becoming thick as you walked behind him. The sweater did little to no good disguising his broad shoulders, the muscles somehow still visible under the clothing.

As soon as you reached the bottom, you glanced around, the Thrombey fighting becoming louder with each second. It wouldn't be long before one of them stormed out of the room, muttering a curse under their breath. You'd seen all of them do it at least once. You crossed your arms, wary of whatever Ransom was planning. "Be honest, you're not just going to drive me off to the middle of the woods and murder me, are you?"

Ransom chuckled, giving you a wink as he held his hand out. Without hesitation, you took it. "If I was planning to murder you, I wouldn't do it in the woods. If you're going to die, it's going to be epic."

"Oh, well, that makes me feel better." you sneered sarcastically, instantly rolling your eyes. In the back of your mind, you pondered how long it would take for your eyes to get stuck in your brain with the amount of times you rolled them at Ransom.

He led you towards the door, smirking. "You ready?"

"No. Let's go."

—

"Fuck, baby."

He spent a few moments just staring at your spread pussy, amazed and aching for you more than he ever ached for anything.

"Don't you know why I want you to see it, Ransom?"

Ransom just shook his head without taking his eyes off the your pneumatic body.

"Because it's yours," you sighed. "All yours, baby. You're the one I've been keeping it nice and fresh for."

"Fuck," he muttered.

He kept staring at you, waiting for you to rub you pussy again, but you didn't. You just kept holding it spread.

"Don't you wanna taste me, Ransom?" you purred, barely above a whisper. "C'mon, baby, please. I want you to lick it so bad. I love you so much and I want to give you everything that belongs to you."

The playboy was all but paralyzed by your words. He finally dragged his eyes off your open pussy and looked at your face. You were staring back at him with a glazed look in your eyes. His solid cock was pulsing hard in the tight grip of his fist. No girl had ever looked at him the way you were at that very moment, yet at the same time, he knew you were playing with the hottest kind of fire there was.

"Sweetheart, you know this wasn't the deal." he whispered, distracted.

You smirked. "But you still won."

He finished the thought by leaning down and sliding his tongue up and over your generously offered pussy. You pulled in a sharp gasp when Ransom's tongue lit up your heavily tingling pussy. Your hips rolled instantly in response, your gasps turning to moans while Ransom eagerly slathered his tongue all around your creamily delicious slit. He soon focused his attention on your clit and slipped a finger up inside your hole at the same time.

The man's finger curled and twisted inside you, searching for you g spot while he suckled and lapped at your fully swollen clit. You could barely form words as you gasped and moaned, your luscious body now writhing with desire.

Your pussy oozed heavily the more he licked and fingered you. Your cream was sweet, tangy and intensely intoxicating. Ransom probed at your hole with his finger and the tip of his tongue at the same time, but he soon drew his soaking wet finger out of your hole and wedged it between your ass cheeks, searching for your puckered rimhole.

You gasped deeply and lifted your legs up higher, giving Ransom better access to your asshole. He massaged your tight bud with his honey-coated finger and made deep, hungry love to your pussy with his mouth.

"God god god god, Ransom!" you cried, your hips rolling harder and harder against the man's mouth and finger.

Your body went tense for a few moments and then relaxed. Ransom backed off and watched you languish after your orgasm, pausing briefly to catch your breath. Then you shifted your body and took the hem of your outfit into your hands and peeled it off over your head. Ransom pulled off his T shirt and slid over on top of your luscious body, grinding his rock-hard cock against your pussy as he lowered himself to kiss you.

You whimpered while Ransom's chest mashed down against your heavy, naked tits. They felt amazing against his body, and he was beyond reason when the your mouth opened and set your tongue into motion against his.

Ransom had never kissed any girl so hard or hungrily in his life. Nor had any kissed him back the way you had. At the same time, you were grinding your slick, wet pussy against his cock as hard as he was grinding against you. Then he squeezed his hands in between them and grasped at your tits, kneading them eagerly with his strong hands.

He released your mouth and said," Baby girl, reach down there and put my cock inside you for me. I need that pussy bad, but I can't bring myself to let go of these fantastic tits now that I finally have my hands on them."

You giggled happily and kissed him again while you worked your hands down between your naked bodies. Finally, you got one hand on your pussy and spreading yourself open while you wrapped the other around Ransom's thick cock.

"Oh geezus, fuck, Ransom, you're so fucking hard," you cooed. "Oh god fuck me deep."

You tucked Ransom's cock head into your wet maw and he began grinding his shaft deeper into your sheath. Your pussy felt so tight and creamy, and you both groaned as his rock-hard flesh gradually filled your body. You looked at each other in disbelief, even though nothing had ever felt more right or natural.

Ransom growled as he began to pump his cock in and out of your spectacular body with long strokes. His grip on your tits went tighter and he lowered his head to suck and lick on your swollen nipples.

You whimpered with pleasure, wrapping your legs around his hips and grinding your pussy hard against his thrusting cock. It wasn't long before he was straining to hold on and keep fucking you deep and hard. You didn't make it any easier because of the way you were moaning and your cunt squeezed his pounding cock every time you came.

Finally, Ransom raised himself up on his hands while he pumped your succulent pussy hole as hard and fast as he could, watching your pretty face twist with pleasure while your tits heaved with the force of his lunging body.

"Gimme your cum, baby. I want it in me...fuck!"

With a final, frenzied volley of full body thrusts, Ransom's pulsing cock exploded in your pussy, filling you with a hot flow of jetting spunk.

After, they spent a long time kissing while Ransom caressed the your beautiful tits. He kept his cock buried inside you until his flesh finally started to relax.

You fell asleep in each other's arms, and Ransom knew he had the girl he always needed right there with him. He had been right, all the sarcastic comments and stupid fights had been worth it.

In the morning, Ransom awoke from a haze of dreams to look down and find you lying between his legs with your lips sliding up and down his swollen cock. When you realized he was awake and watching you, you released his big cock from your mouth, giving his shaft a long lick before greeting him.

"Merry Christmas, Ransom."

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Evan’s Personal Route Chapter 1-2: Candle-Lit Game (烛光博弈) Translation

“So this is how he, who I've always been following, is truly like?”

*Light and Night Master-list | Evan’s Personal Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *Evan’s tag will be #For Night, For Revolution

Not long later, Evan's car stopped in front of a quiet victorian-style townhouse amidst a noisy neighbourhood.

An impeccably dressed waiter steps up politely to help us open the doors of the car.

I followed after him as we proceeded along a gravel path surrounded by rose bushes.

I looked at the gap between the rocks of the gravel path and back to my high heels again, awkwardly slowing down as I went.

This was when Evan, who had been walking alongside me, came to a stop. He crooked his elbow in my direction, offering it for me to take.

Evan: The path here is hard to tread.

Taking one cautionary glance at the winding road before me, I hesitated for a moment before linking my arm with his.

Perhaps it was because of how stiffly I was moving, for the sides of Evan’s lips quirked upwards. He slightly inclined his head, glancing at me.

Evan: Why? Are you not used to it?

I was speechless for a while as I attempted to formulate an answer that wouldn’t immediately out me.

As if reading my mind, he spoke once more, his voice tinged with faint amusement.

Evan: I'm talking about the dinner party.

MC: Oh, the dinner party… Honestly, it's a little out of my league.

MC: Can I ask who's going to be attending?

Evan: One is a senior I'm familiar with, and another, is something I think you'll know.

MC: Someone I know?

I tried to think of who it might be; alas, coming up with nothing.

Evan: I remember you once saying that you fancied the perfume brand that was under Zeal.

Evan: If so, then do you know about the founder, Zee?

MC: Oh! I saw his post this afternoon. I think he’s in Guangqi City now.

MC: Wait a minute! Don't tell me—

I gave Evan an incredulous look, only to see him nod with a faint smile playing on his lips.

Evan: Yes. The senior that I happen to be close to is also coincidentally a close friend of Mr. Zee’s.

Evan: Today’s dinner party’s to welcome him.

Evan spoke lightly of it, but I couldn’t help but feel nervous.

Today’s dinner party is way more important than I thought! It might even affect the cooperation between both companies!

My heart unwittingly raced at the thought, and I’d subconsciously tightened my grip on his arm.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

The waiter pulled the doors open for us when we reached the entrance, and a middle-aged man immediately came up to greet us both.

??: It's been a long time, young Lu.

Evan: Sorry to keep you waiting, Uncle Pan.

Mr. Pan: No need to be so polite. I've only just arrived as well.

Mr. Pan: Let's put all of that aside for now. Shouldn't you first introduce your lady friend here?

I suddenly realized that I’ve been clinging onto his arm ever since entering the room, quickly letting go of it.

Evan merely went along with me and relaxed the arm that he’d held up for me. He nodded at Uncle Pan and faced him with a light smile.

Evan: This is (Y/n), a very talented Fashion Designer of my Company's.

Evan: (Y/n), this is Uncle Pan, a renowned businessman in Guangqi's business world, and also a senior of mine that I greatly respect.

I hurriedly extended a hand to Uncle Pan, who'd come to greet us.

MC: Hello, Uncle Pan…

Mr. Pan: Haha, no need to be so polite, Miss (Y/n). The food served in this restaurant is something that you cannot miss out on! Do be sure to eat lots!

MC: Will do! Thank you!

Mr. Pan: Take (Y/n) inside first, young Lu.

Evan: Alright.

We both bowed our heads slightly at him, expressing our gratitude. The waiter immediately came up, leading us to the room on the second floor.

All that could be heard was our footsteps, echoing in the elegant hallway.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Not long after we’d seated ourselves, Uncle Pan entered the room followed by another middle-aged man.

I could recognize him at a glance. That man was none other than Zee.

Time did not dull his edge. In fact, it merely gave him a couple of notches of calmness. His sharp eyes openly swept across everyone present without the slightest bit of hesitation. I don’t know if it was just me, but I felt as if something had flashed in his eyes when his line of sight fell on me.

After Uncle Pan had finished with his brief introductions, Evan leaned forwards, extending a hand out to Zee.

Evan: It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Zee.

Zee raised his eyebrows and contemplated him for a good long while before slowly reaching out to shake his hand.

Zee: Warson's CEO? Pleasure's mine.

After exchanging greetings, Uncle Pan smiled as he patted both of their shoulders, gesturing for everyone to take a seat at the table.

Evan and I were seated at one side, while Zee and Uncle Pan were on the other.

The waiter began to serve us the dishes in an orderly manner.

For a while, the only thing that could be heard was the soft thuds of a leather shoe against the low pile carpet, accompanied by the occasional clink of tableware.

Evan: I've long since heard that you're an avid collector of antiques, Mr. Zee. So, I've prepared a gift to commemorate our first meeting.

The words had only left his lips when two men dressed impeccably in suit and gloves stepped up with a scroll, unravelling it for everyone to view.

It was an ancient painting. The paper had already yellowed, but the picture depicted on it was complete and clear, boasting vibrant colours, its inscription and seal as clear as the day and distinguishable.

Although I’d often visited the museum as a kid, it was the ancient outfits and accessories that had piqued my interest. Hence, my limited understanding when it came to calligraphy and paintings. I could only tell that this was a work that originated from the Qing Dynasty, which had used the lighting styles, shading styles, and the perspective of many western artworks as reference.

The sides of Zee’s mouth curved slightly upwards, his eyes lighting up with joy at the sight.

Zee: It truly is a treasure of invaluable rarity.

Zee: Looks like you really do know your stuff, Mr. Lu.

Evan: Can’t say I do, myself; but, I’ve often heard Uncle Pan talk about your passion when it comes to these things.

Mr. Pan: Young Lu here’s very considerate. He remembers everything I tell him!

Mr. Pan: You too. Stop evading and take it already!

Zee: If my old pal insists; then I shall.

Zee: Still, it wouldn’t look all that good for me to take something without giving something else in return.

Zee: I’ve recently found an interesting little gadget. You can have it as a return gift if it interests you.

Saying so, Zee snapped his fingers with a smirk.

In a snap of a finger, a man behind him brought forth an intricately carved jewellery box made out of lacquered wood, placing it before us.

The inside of the red box was padded with fine silk, and lying above it was an exquisite gold hairpin.

MC: This! Isn't this Wanli’s Gold Hairpin!?

Then, all gazes turned to me. I flushed with embarrassment.

MC: Sorry, that was inappropriate of me….

Zee turned to look at me in rapt interest, with something inexplicable simmering behind his smile.

Zee: As expected of you, Mr. Lu. Even your female companion’s so learned and talented. You have a keen eye, Miss (Y/n).

Zee: I wonder just how much you know about this gold hairpin? How about you tell us more about it?

He'd already motioned towards the man in a suit, not waiting for me to reply. The box was then placed before me.

The gold and reds perfectly complemented each other, traversing through hundreds of years to now stand before my eyes. I could acutely feel the complexity and magnificence of this gold hairpin.

However, tonight was not a night of antique appreciation. Every act, every action of mine might contribute to whether or not the cooperation between the two companies will come to pass in the future…

I subconsciously turned to Evan. He smiled faintly, nodding his head in what seemed like encouragement.

The nervousness I felt instantaneously dispersed somewhat. I requested a set of gloves from the suited man, putting them on before carefully cracking the gold hairpin in my palm.

MC: Well… if you’ll pardon my inadequacy.

MC: Judging from the appearance and the workmanship, this filigree dragon pattern inlaid with the jewellery should have been made in the Ming Dynasty, during Wanli's reign.

MC: The gold and silver accessories during that time were richly patterned and intricately pieced together. They're often made through carving methods like this, alongside hollowing methods.

MC: I've once seen a similar gold kissing prochilodus hairpin with a self-defence mechanism.

MC: It had a silver needle hidden in a hollow compartment at the end, which can be released when required.

MC: I think this one’s the same as well.

Saying so, I tried to recall how the mechanism worked and where it was located from a book I’d seen in the past. Sure enough, I managed to find a catch at the very tip of the dragon’s tail.

MC: Maybe down here?

MC: The material used on this particular part is different from what the rest of the hairpin is made of, which means that this is most likely the place where the trigger’s hidden.

Zee: Oh? Then how about you show us, Miss (Y/n)?

MC: But this is just a hypothesis of mine, and this gold hairpin is way too valuable to be poking around with…

Zee: No matter. All hypotheses require to be tested. Besides, you’ve intrigued me.

MC: I’ll… I’ll try then.

Under everyone’s watchful gazes, I focused all my concentration on the gold hairpin in my hand as I gave it a thorough check through.

MC: There’s a small metal latch to the left of the ruby at the bottom. That should be the trigger!

Hearing that, Zee merely raised his eyebrows, as if awaiting my next move.

Is he… waiting for me to trigger it?

I was nervous because I didn't know whether it'd really make a silver needle slide out; so much that my back was covered in a sheen of nervous sweat. I took in a deep breath, trying my damndest to curb the tremor in my hand as I reached out towards that one particular ruby.

Just as I was about to touch the trigger, a hand placed itself atop my wrist, holding me back.

Evan: Allow me.

I could acutely feel his slightly cooler body temperature even through the gloves I wore.

Having said that, he too, requested a set of gloves before taking the gold hairpin from my grasp.

Evan: Here?

MC: Yeah…

Evan carefully angled the end of the hairpin so that it faced the inside of the jewellery box before gently pressing on the mechanism's trigger…

All we heard was a slight swoosh as a silver needle revealed itself against the silk cushions that padded the box under everyone's watchful gazes.

MC: !

I drew in a long, deep breath, shooting Evan a grateful look, which he returned with a smile.

He placed the gold hairpin back into the jewellery box before turning back to Zee.

Evan: Your return gift certainly does have exquisite workmanship, Mr. Zee. Thank you, I love it.

Hearing what Evan said, Zee, who had been leaning back into his chair with his eyes closed, suddenly perked up and leaned forwards with the sides of his mouth raised.

Zee: Why, don’t give me all the credit here. If Miss (Y/n) hadn’t found the mechanism, I wouldn’t have ever known that this little thing had a catch to it.

Zee: Looks like I should talk to her more, given the chance. I believe that we share a lot of common interests.

Zee: How about… we get Mr. Lu to specially authorize you to be my assistant during my stay here in Guangqi City?

Zee: If so, then we'll have more opportunities to talk and work together with each other.

Zee raised the goblet in his hand, gesturing at me.

For a while, I couldn't find a way to refuse him as I subconsciously raised my wineglass along with him, preparing to take a sip out of it.

Suddenly, Evan's hand cane upon mine, removing the glass from my grasp.

Evan: Thank you for your appreciation.

Evan: Although… she's a brilliant Designer of ours, so she has her responsibilities as well as her work arrangements.

Evan: If there is a need, I can always elect someone better and much more suited to be your assistant.

Evan's curvy eyes still held a smile within them, yet what came out from his mouth was an undeniable refusal towards Zee's request.

The red wine swirled within the glass as two glasses clinked together with a crisp and clear sound.

I could faintly see a tinge of dark red mixed into the bottom of his eyes. Perhaps it was an illusion caused by the candlelight, or perhaps of the reflection from the dark red wine within the glass...

Zee glanced at me, unfazed. His fingers slowly trailed along the rim of his cup. His smile returned to his face after a moment of silence.

Zee: I’ll have to trouble you then.

Evan: Not at all.

Zee: I'm not trying to make things hard for anyone here, but who knows, we might have another chance to work together in the future.

Zee: All beauty in this world requires time to ferment and brew like fine wine, and I'm not against waiting.

Evan nodded, smiling humbly at him. However, the edges of his eyes, slightly curved upwards in a smile, held a faint, yet dangerously sharp glint to them.

Evan: How about we add a little value into your time of wait instead of wasting the time that passes doing nothing?

Evan: I’ve heard that Zeal is expanding into the global market as of late. I do have a suggestion if you’re interested…

Zee narrowed his eyes into a pensive smile. There was a sly scheming glint in his long and narrow eyes as he did the math

Zee: You’ve really done your homework, Mr. Lu. Do share with the class.

He leaned forward, peaking with interest. A rush of nervousness hits me, but just as we were about to enter the main topic...

A vibrating sound suddenly sounded. Zee held up his phone, glancing at it, before turning back to us with a smile.

Zee: I’ll go pick this call up. You don’t mind, do you?

Uncle Pan responded in the affirmative, and I hurriedly followed suit, shaking my head together with Evan.

Zee pushed the door open and left. I didn’t know if it was because my nerves had been too highly strung in nervousness earlier, or if it was due to the temperatures running higher within the dining room, but I suddenly felt a bout of dizziness hit me.

Should I take this chance to go outside for some fresh air?

❖ Choice A: Do nothing

I looked out at the rustling leaves outside the window, swaying in the wind, slightly hesitant.

Evan: Want to go out and stretch your legs?

Evan’s voice suddenly sounded by my ear, making me turn and look up.

He was always like this, easily seeing through my thoughts, yet remaining a comfortable distance away as he asks for my opinion.

MC: Yeah… I feel a little cooped up in here.

Hearing this, Uncle Pan only smiled.

Mr. Pan: Take her out for a walk then, young Lu. The scenery outside is beautiful, if I must say so myself.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

After thanking Uncle Pan, Evan led me out to the veranda.

The white sheer curtain fluttered along with the wind with the soft moonlight dancing quietly on top of it. Everything was calm and serene.

The air was filled with the faint fragrance of flowers. I stretched my neck, peering down. There was a large bed of roses blooming in the gardens down below.

I braced both hands on the railing, closing my eyes and inhaling deeply.

Evan: Feel better?

MC: Much better!

Evan smiled gently, but it soon turned into one of concern.

Evan: I can send you back first if you're uncomfortable with the dinner party.

MC: ...Did I cause trouble for you?

He shakes his head, gently stroking the top of my head.

Evan: No. You've done brilliantly.

Evan: It's just… I don't wish to see you push yourself, even if it's only out of your concern for me.

MC: Right…

The pent-up frustration in my head seemingly subsided upon hearing his words.

What’s there for me to worry about when I have him by my side?

I lowered my hands from the railings and turned towards the direction of the dining room.

MC: But, I think I'll accompany you till the end of this dinner party.

Evan was stunned for a while before he smiled and offered me his arm.

This time, I took his arm without hesitation as we headed further down the corridor side-by-side.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Zee had already returned to the dining room by the time we got back.

Evan and Zee both continued their precious discussion about working together and the dinner party soon ended smoothly without a hitch.

☆   NORMAL END: Fading Exit   ☆   "Next time, keep up and stay sharp!"

❖ Choice B: Stay in the private dining room

Although Zee has left, he'll probably be back shortly. The first half of the dinner party's over, so I just have to pull through for a while more.

I breathed a light sigh as I tucked the loose strands of hair back behind my ear, trying to relax.

Noticing this, Evan inclined his head.

Evan: Relax. It's fine.

MC: ...Okay.

The tense atmosphere within the dining room lightened up with Uncle Pan's warm hospitality, and Zee soon returned.

The waiter continued serving the next set of dishes. One exquisite dish after another was slowly placed before me, and they all tasted pleasantly divine.

In the end, Zee never once broached the topic of an assistant again.

The night grew on as we walked out of the victorian-style townhouse. The waiter already had our car prepared and waiting for us.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Upon reaching my apartment building, Evan got out of the car, holding the door open for me. He stood under the streetlights, looking at me.

Evan: Rest earlier today.

After making my way upstairs, I leaned out of the window and waved as I watched his car disappear around the corner of the road.

My phone vibrated not long after the car disappeared from my field of vision.

Picking it up, I saw that it was a message from Evan.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

Evan (SMS): Good night, sweet dreams.

I held my phone, smiling as I inputted the same words into it.

MC (SMS): Good night, Evan...

☆  NORMAL END: Bystander   ☆   "Sometimes, opportunities lie beyond the light at the end of the tunnel through the cracks of the willow's shade…"

❖ Choice C: Head out to the veranda and get some air

I took the chance and excused myself from the room, coming out to the veranda in hopes of easing my nerves.

⊹ ˚✩ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ∘◦ ✥ ◦∘ ━━━━━━━━━━━ ✩˚ ⊹

The night breeze up at the veranda was cooling. It blew off the heat that had been created from my restlessness and felt utterly refreshing.

After taking in a couple of deep breaths, I patted my face and prepared to go back inside. Much to my surprise, I turned around only to be met face-to-face by none other than Zee himself.

Zee: Miss (Y/n), what a coincidence to see you here.

He smiled as he strolled up to me. I subconsciously took a step backwards. Noticing this, Zee's smile widened.

Zee: I do hope you weren’t bothered by the incident earlier. Is that why you’re purposely trying to avoid me, Miss (Y/n)?

I hurriedly shook my head, slightly raising my head to meet his gaze.

MC: Surely, you must be joking, Mr. Zee. I just came out for some air and was just about to head back in.

Zee had a playful glint in his eyes. He lifted his hand to his chin, suddenly moving forwards to block me off.

Zee: Why such a hurry? Care to accompany me for a walk?

MC: But Uncle Pan and Mr. Lu are still waiting for us back inside…

Before I could finish, Zee purposely moved even closer, his eyes narrowed into a close eyed smile.

Zee: Looks like you trust Mr. Lu a great lot, Miss (Y/n). I wonder… Just how much do you know about his past?

MC: What are you implying, Mr. Zee?

Zee: There's no need for you to be afraid, Miss (Y/n). The more approachable a person,  the higher the chance that they're hiding another side of them.

Zee: They do say that "Someone of talent is free to choose their own master". And it seems like you are completely unaware of Evan's past.

Zee: And with someone as talented as you, Miss (Y/n)... I cannot bear to leave you in the dark.

He presumptuously sized me up in such a smarmy manner that it was unsettlingly uncomfortable.

I tried to bypass him and head in the direction of the dining room, but he'd seen through me and moved his body to block off my escape.

A sort of unease that stemmed from being forced to do something welled up on me. I wanted to flee, yet I didn't dare to refuse him outright.

What should I do now?

Just as I was trapped between a wall and a hard place, I heard a familiar set of footsteps sound from the other end of the hallway.

Raising my head, I saw a reassuring figure headed straight for us.

Evan!

He walked straight up to us, reaching out to place his hand around my shoulders before pulling me back to his side with a little force.

I raised my head, looking up at him. Those eyes of his, usually as warm and gentle as jade, were now slightly dark. There was an unknown emotion flickering within the bottom of his eyes that I couldn't make out.

Evan: So this was where you were, Mr. Zee.

The corners of Zee's lips slowly upturned into a smile, although that didn't quite reach his eyes, which were clearly glinting in displeasure.

Zee: Mr. Lu. I only wanted to have a nice chat with her, so what is the meaning of this?

Zee: I know that she's someone close to you, but you can't go making all the decisions for her like that.

Zee: Actually, she has just agreed to become my special assistant during my stay here at Guangqi City. What!?

Zee had effortlessly told a lie, with not a trace of it to be seen on his face. He raises his eyebrow and turns to look at me.

I steeled myself, forcing a polite smile onto my face.

MC: Surely you must be joking, Mr. Zee. Antiques and managing daily schedules are not things that I specialize in, so there's no way I can ever become an assistant of yours...

Zee's countenance darkens upon hearing this. His eyes landed on me as he seemingly contemplates something.

I don't know whether it was because I was too nervous, but I could feel my shoulders trembling ever so slightly. Evan calmly drew me closer to him, the amiable smile remaining ever-present on his face.

Evan: If you require an assistant, then I shall personally arrange one for you.

Evan: It is merely a matter of picking out the right candidate for the job. However, please do give me some time to make a good selection for your needs.

Looking at the expression Evan had on his face, Zee suddenly lets out a loud laugh.

Zee: Hahaha. Alright. Beautiful women are one a plenty in this world, and it looks like you're not willing to forsake this treasured one of yours.

The smile was still on Evan's face, but this time, he'd slightly narrowed his eyes.

Evan: Now, you're mistaken, Mr. Zee. (Y/n) doesn't belong to anyone at all, so any talk of "forsaking" will never come to pass.

Evan: Uncle Pan is still waiting for us inside the dining room. We shouldn't keep him waiting.

Not another peep came from Zee as he turned and walked back to the dining room in large strides.

It was only when he'd completely disappeared from our view that Evan let go of me and faced me with a thoroughly concerned look.

Evan: You okay, (Y/n)?

I shook my head. My heart was still wildly pounding.

Evan: I apologize for making you face that sort of predicament alone.

Evan: It won't happen again. You have my word.

The panic in my heart gradually subsided. I shut my eyes tight and fought against the stuffiness of my nose as I tried not to cry.

MC: Thank you, Evan.

Evan's expression gradually grew softer. He raised his hand, gently patting my back.

Evan: Don't worry. We're the only ones here now.

Evan: Enjoy the wind a little more with me, then we can head back in together.

MC: Okay...

I knew, deep down. He wasn't here to enjoy the wind at all, but rather, he'd used it as an excuse to allow me, in all my embarrassing glory, some time to calm myself down.

The strength behind the hand on my back brought about a comforting warmth, settling my taut nerves.

The moonlight was akin to water, shrouding us within its silvery embrace.

❖☆————— ⊹ Oblique Curtains of the Night⊹ —————★❖

⊹ Previous Part: (Chapter 1-1: Unexpected Request) ⊹ Next Part: (Chapter 1-3: Strike in the Dark )

[marlahey]

under the same roof part three: all the time you need

a harry styles rpf part three of six written by annie and aj (marlahey and formerly harryonstage) ratings/warnings: disaster gays, endangered ovaries from dad!harry, women aggressively supporting women notes: enter the rest of harry’s family unit! in case anyone’s curious, annie tells sylvia to give her dad a kiss in vietnamese, to which he responds, good girl. before anyone comes for me, there will be plenty more opportunities for bed-sharing to come. side note: aj always pictured olivia coleman as officer warren.  masterlist | part one | part two | part four (21.12.20)

............................................... • saturday, 5th january 9:18 am • The second time you’re roused from sleep, sunlight illuminates Harry’s room. You lift your head, squinting, but more quickly you recognize where you are.

Harry is nowhere in sight, but a fresh glass of water is within reach on the nightstand, and a cardigan knitted with primary-colored patches lies folded at the foot of the bed. After slipping your arms through the loose sleeves, you take a few gulps of water and make sure to shut his bedroom door quietly on your way out. You hadn’t spent much time in the living room as per Officer Warren’s instructions to avoid the windows, but you can see into it from the hall. And since there’s still no sign of Harry, you take a minute to discreetly look around at the place he and his daughter call home. His flat is obviously larger than yours—he has two bedrooms versus one—but the morning light seems to stretch the space even further, like an open armed welcome. The atmosphere bustles with a little dose of chaos. Two brimming bookshelves span one wall of the living room, and plants line the windowsills. A half-sized Christmas tree stands off in the corner, wrapped in twinkly lights and strings of popcorn. A white fender guitar decorated with various stickers stands with a speaker beside the couch, and records tile the wall behind it: Pink Floyd, Fleetwood Mac, The Stones, The Cars, Hello I’m Dolly.  There is ample evidence that a child lives here, too. The walls are dotted with drawings in watercolor, crayon, and sparkles. You can see pieces of Lego strewn out on the carpet; they must be from that towering box Harry had towed into the lift a week before Christmas. A small smile tugs at your lips as you follow the smell of espresso into the kitchen. You find Harry leaning against the counter looking contemplative, holding aloft a cup of coffee that he seems to have forgotten about. He’s wearing the same shirt he’d slept in, but thrown on a pair of joggers. You bid a quiet, “Good morning.” He inhales sharply as his head whips toward you, his drink sloshing over the edge of his mug slightly. “Jesus, sorry,” he laughs softly, shaking his head at himself. You watch as he wets a dishrag and cleans the small mess. “Not really used to company my age.” “Oh… Sorry.” “S’alright.” His voice is covered in sleep; it almost sounds like he has a cold. “Coffee?” You hum appreciatively. “Love some.” “Were you able to get some sleep?” he asks, pulling a mug from the cabinet. “Enough, yeah.” All you can think about is waking up locked in his embrace, on the still-dark cusp of sunrise. “Thank you for letting me, um…” “Course. Cream?” “That’s great, thanks.” Harry nods over his shoulder towards the bedroom. “It help at all?” How are you supposed to answer that? “The real bed?” he clarifies, like it is at all necessary.  You listen to the spoon clink rhythmically against the ceramic, and settle on “I think so,” as noncommittally as possible. “How did you sleep?” “Very well.” In passing you your mug, Harry catches your eyes for the first time today in a way that feels like not an accident. “More importantly, how are you feeling about everything else?” You shrug, eyes glued to the cream swirling in your coffee. “Better, a little.” “That’s good.” “What about you?” you ask. “You’ve kinda been through the wringer, yourself.” “I’m good, yeah.” Harry pushes up his glasses. “I was thinking—if you don’t mind—I’d like to come with you to the police department this morning.”  “No, no, Harry.” You wave away the offer. “Don’t worry about that.” “No, really. It might make more sense. I saw him in the hall last night, and I was with you in the lift. They might need to ask some questions of both of us.” You consider this a moment. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to.” “I don’t have to,” Harry counters. “I want to. I want you to, y’know… ” he trails off. “I want them to get this guy.” You blink at him. There’s a strange feeling in knowing that Harry has clearly thought about your wellbeing beyond the night that you’ve effectively been trapped in his flat. Regardless, it’s too early for a battle of wills, and he has a point. You slouch against the fridge. “Alright. Well… I still have India’s car so I can drive us,” you concede. A smile lights Harry’s face. Suddenly your stomach rumbles so powerfully and for so long that it interrupts the conversation. You cover a small, mortified laugh with both hands as Harry’s eyebrows raise. “Well,” he begins, exaggerated. “Let’s take care of that… You take the first turn in the bathroom, I’ll fix us some breakfast.” “You sure?” “Go ahead.” He grabs a skillet from the drying rack, turning on one of the burners. “Thank you, Harry.” “It’s no problem.” You wash your face with something you find above the sink and brush your teeth on auto-pilot before considering your bundle of clothes from the night before. Your cardigan lays at the top of the stack. Four of your fingers fit through the gaping hole in its collar, and dirt covers one of the sleeves. You hadn’t forgotten about the shape it was in last night, but you didn’t consider it a problem until now, as you hold it up in front of you by the shoulders, frowning. You try to tame your hair with a purple, sparkly brush to no avail, so you take a quick look around to see if Sylvia has any spare barrettes or pins. Thankfully there’s a single hair tie floating in the bottom of your purse. You shrug back into Harry’s patchwork sweater—oddly comforting in how fully it swallows your shoulders and hands—and slip back out to the kitchen, where Harry plates grilled tomatoes and bacon. “We’re about ready to eat.” Harry turns the stovetop down to a simmer as the toaster pops. “How do you take your eggs?” “Sunny side up, please.”  He salutes you with his spatula, attention already returned to the pan.  “Can I help with anything?” Harry nods to a drawer. “Yeah can you pass us a couple napkins from just there? I’ll be right back,” he rushes, already halfway out of the kitchen. You pull a few paper napkins from their packet as he returns with two chairs that you recognize from his small wicker table. “Blinds are open in the other room, thought it might be best if we just eat in here.” He sets the chairs apart, facing one another. “Now this is living,” you deadpan. Harry laughs lightly as he gestures for you to sit. The two of you get adjusted with your plates on your lap, and your knees almost bump in the small space. “This is great, Harry. Thank you.”  “I’d make you bubble and squeak, too, but we’re fresh out and Sylvia hates beans so we don’t keep them on hand. So technically...” Harry lowers his voice to a whisper. “S’not a full English fry up.” You can only smile around your mouthful, unexpectedly endeared. The rest of breakfast passes in silence. You shouldn’t have slept on an empty stomach; you’re ravenous from skipping a meal last night.  He looks up at you eventually, a touch more serious than before. “Shall we think about heading to the police station soon?”  You dab your mouth with your napkin and nod. Harry stands from his chair and reaches an open hand down to you for your plate. “No, no,” you nudge him away with your elbow. “You cooked, I’ll clean.”  “Let me deal with these. You’re a guest.” “I’m a captive.” “No you’re not! You’re—” He breaks off, hesitating a moment before plunging on with an amused slant to his lips. “You’re my sort-of friend.” Your assumption he hadn’t overheard that comment to your mother last night on the phone was clearly in vain. You press your lips together against any inadvertent reaction. Your head swivels toward him, eyes full of lighthearted reproach. “Look, just let me do the dishes to give myself the illusion that I’m not just a freeloader here. Besides, I’m already ready to go.” "Fine,” he caves disapprovingly. “I’ll get myself sorted and be out in a minute.” “Take your time.” While Harry is preoccupied, you finish slotting the clean plates from breakfast carefully into the drying rack and pull out your phone to message India. Hey, I have a lot to update you on but it’ll be much easier to explain in person. I still have your car and I need it for one thing this morning but I promise I’ll fill the tank ASAP. It’s about the guy that’s been following me. Just know that I’m safe and everything’s okay. I’ll call you when I can. Love you. Send. That’ll have to do for now. Harry returns in jeans and a sweater. It’s still strange to see him so dressed down. “Ready?” he asks. “Yeah. You mind if I wear this to the police station?” you ask, pinching the fabric of his cardigan. You feel the urge to explain yourself—the hole in your sweater, the grime—but Harry’s already shaking his head. “Not at all. Do you maybe want something a little less… loud? I don’t even wear that one out, myself, really.”  You consider the bright cacophony of color like it’s brand new to your eyes. Loud is right. “Yeah, that’s not a terrible idea.”  Harry’s lips twitch. “C’mon then. You’re welcome to pick anything you’d like.” Pick? You nod because you’re worried the surprise is painted on your face. “Okay.” Harry leads you to his bedroom again, and over to the large wooden wardrobe.  He pulls the double doors open and you cannot help yourself from gawking a little. You’re taken by all the exquisite patterns and intricate textures of the suits, but it’s oddly wistful to run your fingertips along all of them hung in a row. You smile privately, a bit removed. “What?” Harry laughs from behind you. “Nothing!” you reply, glancing over your shoulder before saying more softly, “I just recognize some of these.” “Oh, thought you were sizing them up. My mates all take the piss… They say my suits are eccentric.” He rolls his eyes, reciting the insult like he’s quoting their words verbatim. You turn back around to his closet. “I think they look nice—I think you look nice in them.” You take a step back and crane your neck to the shelf of folded sweaters above the hanging rod. The extensive array of muted wool and cotton is a bit overwhelming. You spot the planet sweater he’d worn the first time you saw Sylvia, the oversized yellow one that reminded you of Charlie Brown, the black one with half a red heart and the letters, NY in bold white text… It takes a minute of jogging your memory before you can recall him wearing something more plain. Harry doesn’t own a lot of plain. You still can’t quite reach the shelf up on your tiptoes, but Harry is at your side immediately. “The brown?” He tugs it from the stacks and passes it down. “Yeah, thanks.” You examine the camel colored fabric with tiny flecks of black thread, and run your hand along the smooth purl. “This should do.” You tug the sweater over your head; it’s boxy, your arms aren’t long enough to fit, and it isn’t doing any favors for your shoulders. You have to roll the sleeves up past your wrists before the outfit can half pass as something you purposely wore out of the house. You spin around to face him. “Does it look normal?” Harry’s jaw flexes as he gives you the up-down. You fiddle with one of the sleeves. “Yeah,” Harry says stiffly. “Looks normal.” It’s bizarre walking through the level six hallway; it’s identical to your own, but the last time you’d been here, everything down to the carpet and light fixtures had been tainted by your deafening fear. What’s more is that riding down in the lift with Harry feels entirely different now. You see it all from his perspective, and try to visualize what you look like to him most mornings, standing in the corner with your school bag and a book tucked beneath your arm. The lift picks up a few people on its way down, but by the time it reaches the garage, you and Harry are alone. You catch his eyes in the reflection of the doors a second before they open. He clears his throat. “I know it’s probably… we’ll be fine, but stay close, yeah?” You look up at him and nod. It’s easy to keep to your word. Harry guides you to walk in front of him the entire way as your eyes scan the shadows in between the rows of cars. You’re sure you will never be able to see this garage quite the same way. “It’s the old Volkswagen.” “I see it.” You’re so out of it that you almost try to get in on the passenger side. It’s the kind of slip up that Harry might have teased you about, but he’s quiet and looking around, too. You pull the jacket you’d left on the seat last night into your lap, the two of you strap in, and you cannot pull out into the street fast enough. The mustard yellow envelope in the back seat is an unwelcome passenger, visible in your rearview mirror.  Who else knew about these photos? How many are there that weren’t in your envelope? Are they online somewhere? Would they follow you to law school? Your grip tightens on the steering wheel as you grind your teeth. “Alright?” Harry asks. His voice brings you back down to earth. He’d asked you that question when you pricked your finger on the poppy in your jacket pocket. He’d asked you in his bed on the most terrifying night of your life. And he’s asking you now. You nod. “I will be.” • saturday, 5th january 10:42 am • In the parking lot behind Lavender Hill Police Station, you’ve killed the engine but remain in your seat. Part of you is still reluctant to have Harry come along; keeping your composure in front of the police feels hard enough without the prospect of him being there, too, but maybe that’s the one thing that will get you through this. “Sorry.” You shake your head, suddenly aware of how long you’ve been sitting motionless at the wheel. Harry’s gaze is unperturbed. He watches you push anxiously at the sleeves of his sweater. “Take all the time you need.” It’s the same phrase the initial officer who’d taken your statement all those weeks ago had used. It’s what Officer Warren had said to you on the phone last night, and you’re so tired of hearing it. You don’t want to have as much time as you need to feel calm or steady or normal again. You want your time back. You want to reclaim all those extra seconds spent checking over your shoulder, the minutes lost to changing your routes, and the hours spent staring up at the ceiling when you should have been asleep. Rationally, you know that there will be time to relearn how to walk down the street and feel at ease, and plan that trip to Brighton you and India have been talking about for months. There will be time with Harry that isn’t this… stuck in a cramped space, crushed by the weight of your own fear. You hate the way you felt with him in the lift this morning; you want that back most of all. “Faster we get in there,” you say—half to Harry, half to yourself, “the faster we’ll get to leave.” Harry nods. “C’mon then.” The heather grey of the building is no less intimidating than it was in October, but at least this time you don’t have to pull the heavy glass doors open on your own. Inside, you speak with the woman at reception, who gestures for you to sit in a small waiting area just beyond the desk. People in uniform bustle back and forth. Harry’s leg brushes against yours as you sit. He doesn’t move. Neither do you. You have no sense of how long you sit waiting—this doesn’t feel like a place where it’s appropriate to play Solitaire on your phone. You can feel Harry looking at you periodically, but you don’t glance back until a woman with a familiar voice appears before you. She ushers you to follow with a quick, professional smile. Harry doesn’t quite offer the same, but you’re reassured anyway. “I’m Officer Warren.” She stops at a desk with an empty chair beside it. You take care to shake her hand firmly, introducing yourself with all the confidence you can scrap together. “Are you comfortable sitting here?” “Yes, this is fine.” If either Harry or Officer Warren notice your voice is an octave higher, neither of them make any sign. “Good.” She reaches past you to shake Harry’s hand too. “Harry.” “Nice to meet you both. We can also find a conference room, if you’d like somewhere more private, or if you’d both like to sit.” Harry speaks up when you don’t right away. “I’m fine standing.” He looks exactly as he had in the car—calm and willing to take your lead, so you sit before you can change your mind. Officer Warren smiles again, clearly trying to put you at ease. You wish it was more effective. “Right, well I won’t take up too much of your time. Since I took your statement last night, I’ve already got a copy of the transcript from our conversation over the phone, and you won’t need to go over all of that again.” Your shoulders cave a little in relief. Harry’s fingers hook gently over the top of your chair. “Okay.” “But,” she continues, “there is the matter of how to proceed. What we talked about regarding your flat still stands… it really isn’t safe for you to remain there, especially since the suspect seems to know which one is yours, and we still don’t have a clear idea of where he is now, or how he was able to access the car park in your building in the first place.” “So…” You shake your head, in either confusion or denial. “I can’t even go home?” “I’m afraid not, for the time being.” Her eyes are soft, regretful. “Not if he knows where you live. Not if there’s a chance he could get more photographs, or try to break in again.” Your stomach twists. “Were you able to figure out who he is?” You’re not even sure you want to know. Officer Warren’s mouth pinches apologetically. “Not yet. We have a couple technicians working on the security footage and the photos you’ve turned in, so hopefully we’ll be able to get something from them. The car he was driving had no plates. You haven’t seen any sign of him since we spoke last?” You shake your head, and she glances up at Harry as if to confirm. “Alright, that’s a good sign at least. He knows we’re watching, now. On the other hand, there’s a chance he’ll carry on, but be stealthier about it. Is it possible for you to physically stay inside, completely out of sight for let’s say, a week?” “I mean… where?” “Do you have somewhere else you can stay for the time being? With a friend?” You open your mouth, but the “Yes,” is not your own. You force yourself not to turn back to look at him; Harry’s fingers touch your shoulder again. “Yes, she does. She can stay with me. We live in the same building after all, so it’ll hardly be disruptive.” Officer Warren gives him a long look. You can’t tell if she approves or is displeased with him for speaking for you, but now that the initial shock has worn off, gratitude washes over you. Asking India to stay with her indefinitely would have been out of the question; there’s no way you’re endangering your best friend any more than you already have. You’d be putting her in a position where she couldn’t say no. She has four roommates. She doesn’t even know about the photos yet.  “That works,” you hear yourself say. This will only be for a few days, you reason—it’ll buy you just enough time to find your feet. By then, you can sort out a longer-term place to stay if the police still haven’t found the man. Officer Warren is speaking again, and it takes effort to actively refocus on the conversation. “The objective here is to make it seem as though you’re gone. On holiday. He’ll be keeping an eye on the building, no doubt, so he’ll notice if the car is gone, or your flat is empty. Is there any way you can take your classes remotely?” You find you can barely speak, so you just nod instead.  She leans in a little, her eyes finding yours more carefully. “I know it’s frightening, but you’ve been incredibly strong. This won’t be forever. In the meantime, we can send an officer back with you this afternoon so you can gather a few of your things.” You nod again. “Do you have any questions for me?” You force yourself to say, “No, thank you,” which Harry echoes. Officer Warren nods, almost perfunctorily, and stands. “If you wait here just a minute, I’ll introduce you to the officer who’ll take you back to your flat. You’ll be in an unmarked car, and we can arrange for yours to be retrieved.” “Thank you. I’ll call my friend now,” you say. “Maybe she can… I'll have to ask her to look after my cat. And it’s her car, anyway.” Officer Warren nods, apparently satisfied.  You shake her hand again, though your mind is stuck on this won’t be forever. As you rise from the chair, you feel the gentle pressure of Harry’s hand on the small of your back. When Officer Warren returns with another uniformed policeman, you don’t want to move, but your legs carry you anyway. Harry’s gaze finds the side of your face periodically like a lighthouse beam while you call India from the backseat of the police car. After reassuring her again that you’re fine, you gloss over the details of staying in Harry’s flat. You can tell even in her silence that she’s not going to let you off the hook that easily, so you start rambling about what to do with Chowder before she gets the chance to say something embarrassing while Harry is sitting right there. “Of course I’m taking Chowder,” she says before you get the chance to phrase the question. “Don’t even worry about it. I’ll get in a cab right now. Do you need help packing up?” “Yeah sure, thank you. But what about your car?” “I’ll take the keys from you and get it after. Honestly, it’s fine. It’s not like it’s gonna get stolen from the bloody police station.” It’s a stupid joke but you’re comforted a little anyway. “Okay.” “Be there soon. I love you.” “Love you too.” Harry glances over at you. “Everything okay?” “Yeah.” You smile a little and for the first time in ages, it doesn’t feel forced. “She’s gonna meet us at home and take Chowder for me.” “That’s great.” “I know,” you reply, a little distant. “Harry, thank you for coming with me… It was nice not to have to, y’know, do that alone.” “That’s alright.” His voice is equally gentle. “We’re gonna… They’re gonna find him. And they’re gonna fix this, and then everything’s gonna go back to normal.” You aren’t sure which of you he’s trying to reassure, but Harry meets your eyes and you nod. Back at your building, you meet up with India. “Think I might just pop home, if that’s alright,” Harry says, going in for the sixth-floor button on the keypad. “I told Annie a bit about what’s going on, but I owe her an update.” “Of course.” You look up at him in the reflection of the doors. “We’ll see you down there.” It’s your first time seeing the dent and scratches on the door to your flat in person. You shiver, turn the key, and push the door open.  “Chowder!” you shout as a flash of orange darts through your legs, meowing down the hall. The officer’s hand lands reflexively on his baton as your cat scares all three of you half to death. Once you manage to corral your cat back to your corner of the hallway, you struggle to keep him still in your arms. “Indy, his crate is under my bed—” “Hold off a minute, I’m going to do a quick walkthrough. I’m sure everything’s fine, but wait out here.” The officer leaves the door cracked open behind him. India offers a small, encouraging smile when you flinch at the sound of him announcing himself in your apartment. You stroke between Chowder’s ears; he is heavy and warm in your arms, and his fur sticks uncomfortably to the sweat on your palms. “All clear.” The officer reappears. “Let’s try to be quick about this.” India immediately ducks through the door following him, but you have to take a deep breath before stepping through the threshold. The place looks completely untouched. Had you been expecting company, perhaps you would have thought to clear the dishes from the sink or remove your laundry from the drying rack. After coercing an unusually talkative Chowder into his travel crate, you and India work as a team to stuff as much into your duffel bag as will fit. Shirts, bras, and pants hurtle past your head. “Indy, I’m staying at a neighbor’s for a few days—what on earth am I going to need this for?” You hold up the silk, strappy dress that just landed on your neatly-folded stacks, shooting her a disapproving look. “I’m just grabbing and throwing!” “Well just, y’know… let’s make sure we’re not speeding through this at the expense of packing with a little common sense.” “I’ve got this,” India says, waving down at the open duffel. “Go sort whatever toiletries you need, yeah?” Thankfully you’ve stayed overnight at her place enough times to warrant a travel case of essentials that lives under your bathroom sink. There’s makeup cluttered all over the counter. You stare at it a moment before rolling your eyes at yourself. “We should probably get going.” The officer’s voice from the other room startles you both as India zips up your duffel. “Are you two about ready?”  As you stick your head out of your bedroom, the officer is peeking through the blinds across the street. “Yes,” you reply. “We are.” Overnight bag and Chowder in tow, you clamber back onto the lift. “Did you get your toothbrush?” “Yes.” “Face wash?” “Yes.” “Pillow?” “Indy, you saw me putting it in—” “Towel?” “Yes.” “Phone charger?” “… Shit.” Ding. The officer steps out with you on the sixth floor as you thank him, and bid a quick goodbye once he reassures you to call if you need anything or, of course, if anything happens. India turns to face you next. “He’s this way.” You nod down the hall, and she leads. “It’s right at the end. The one with the wreath.” The doors of the lift close. You don’t want to think about the last time you’d been walking down this corridor and heard that sound from behind you. India moves aside holding Chowder’s crate by the handle, and the shopping bag full of his supplies as you step up to the welcome mat with your things. Harry swings open the door to his apartment after the second knock, immediately taking the duffel bag from off of your shoulder. “Oh, Harry, you don’t have to—” “I got it.” India elbows you in the ribs. Harry turns to carry your bag to Sylvia's room, and when you look behind at her, her eyebrows are raised above an animated smirk. “Don’t,” you whisper through gritted teeth. She raises a hand in defense as Harry returns before reaching out to accept his offered hand. “Hello, I’m India.” “Harry.”  “Pleasure.” He flashes her a warm smile. She nods appreciatively as they shake hands—at you, however, instead of Harry and your cheeks ignite. “Okay great. That’s settled then. Shall we—um… Indy?” You cut in, then turn to her, nodding to the door with I’m going to kill you in your eyes. “Lovely to meet you, Harry!” “Cheers, dear. You as well.” Harry’s attention returns to you for a moment. “I’ll just be…” He gestures vaguely to the kitchen. You step out into the hall with India. Chowder meows from the crate in her arms and she almost drops him. “What,” you hiss, “was that?”  She ignores your tone, then says your name like it’s a plea. “Call me if you need absolutely anything, or text me—no matter what time it is. I’ll drop everything and come straight to you.” “I’m sleeping two floors below where I usually do, Indy, I’m not dying.” “I know, I know… How’s a Skype dinner tomorrow night? I’ll order us a take away.” “Definitely.” You wish you could squeeze her in another tight hug, but Chowder’s crate impedes you. “Thank you.” “Love you, babe.” “Love you too.” She looks unsatisfied. “It’s going to be fine, I promise. Text me when we’re eating, okay?” You begin to walk backward into Harry’s apartment and blow her a kiss. “I will… Bye!” “Please don’t kill my cat!” You lean on the door frame, watching India’s silhouette shrink as she heads back down the hall to the lift with Chowder. You sigh and close the door, but as you turn around, your hand rushes to your chest in a gasp; Harry is standing just behind you, rubbing his face. “So I’ve just rung Annie while you were upstairs… ” He steps aside to give you a clear path through the hallway. “Oh?” “I’m sorry—they’re just coming,” he rushes, sounding a little panicked as you step into Sylvia's room. You set your phone and laptop down with the rest of your things. “They insisted ‘cause they’ve got a spare mattress, and I told them you needed a place to crash for a bit and also that you stayed here last night so… yeah. You don’t have to be here for that. When they come—oh, and they probably have Sylvia, too, if that’s… ” Harry trails off.” “Wait, I’m sorry.” You close your eyes and shake your head. “Annie? You mean—” “Sylvia’s mum, yeah, and um… her fiancé, AJ.” Harry tilts his head down, as if to gauge your reaction. “And they want to give… they have a spare mattress? But you already have a mattress.” “That’s what I said!” Harry gestures wildly. It must have been a lively phone call. “Oh, well that’s… awfully kind of them,” you begin, trying to keep up. “Would it be easier if I wasn’t—” “No.” He’s clearly surprised at his own volume as he cuts you off. Harry literally leans back, hesitating. “I mean… stay. They’d love to meet you. They’re my family and you’re…” His eyes flit back to yours and hang on. “You’re obviously gonna to be staying here a bit, and they drop by all the time so I jus’ don’t wanna overwhelm you, is all.” Suddenly, it’s your turn struggling to look at him. “Well, I—” “H, open the door! This is heavy!” a voice bellows from beyond the front door. Harry’s eyes shut momentarily. “Coming!” he calls. You stand there, in the doorway to Sylvia’s room, stunned at the pace with which this is all unfolding. Harry jogs to the door. You poke your head out as an explosion of noise disrupts what had before been so peaceful. A child’s high-pitched shriek rips through the flat, followed by a long, labored groan from Harry as Sylvia barrels into his arms and he crouches down to lift her. “How’s Daddy’s girl?” he greets. Sylvia simply continues screaming and tries to bend over backward out of his arms. “Hi, Harry.” A striking woman with jet-black hair waltzes in, carrying a large dish of food wrapped in tin foil, seemingly unphased. Harry shifts Sylvia to one arm, bending over to greet her in a side hug and quick kiss to the cheek. “Hi, love.” What appears to be a twin sized mattress with twig legs follows in suit, grunting softly. “Still heavy.” “Right, sorry.” Harry hands Sylvia off to who you assume is Annie as he hurries to take the mattress, revealing a second, much taller woman with sunglasses atop her blonde head of hair. She’s wearing red lipstick and bright suede pumps. “There we go,” she sighs. “I need a fag.” Harry almost takes out a light fixture as he hauls the bed. You press yourself up against the wall as he offers a quick, “S’cuse me,” and passes you to Sylvia's room. The two women look at you as simultaneous smiles light their faces. “Hi!” “Hello!” Sylvia waves at you, too. “Guess this one doesn’t need an introduction,” the dark-haired woman laughs, approaching with a hand extended. You notice that she’s the one wearing the ring. “I’m Annie.” “It’s great to meet you, Harry has spoken so highly of both of you.” You turn to the other woman after introducing yourself. “AJ.” One corner of her mouth quirks up. “It’s a pleasure.” “Thank you so much for the mattress, ” you begin, wringing your hands. “It seems like everyone’s done so much to help me in the past few days… It’s really meant a lot.” AJ tilts her head to look at you with a more meaningful gaze, and Annie steps forward to rest a hand on your forearm. “Harry hasn’t gone into a terrible amount of detail but… we’re so, awfully sorry for what’s happened to you.” She squeezes gently, her fingers in the crook of your elbow. The strange familiarity of the gesture disarms you. “I can’t imagine what you must be going through, and with your family so far away—I just… we heard about what was going on, and that was it. We had to help.” You nod and suddenly have trouble swallowing. There’s just something different about discussing this with women. “Harry’s air mattress,” AJ chips in, sardonic, “belongs in an incinerator.” “Hey!” His voice comes muted from the open door of Sylvia’s bedroom. Now that you’ve seen the both of them together up close, you realize how wrong you were in thinking that Sylvia only took after her father. Annie’s features are evident in her daughter’s deep, brown eyes, her nose, and the high angles of her cheeks.  “Well,” Annie starts, raising her eyebrows at everyone, “we’re obviously feeding you.” You laugh in disbelief. “No you’re not!” “We are!” She smiles as she sets Sylvia down, who weaves through everyone’s legs to her bedroom. “And relax, it’s already cooked so there’s no use in turning it down.” AJ pulls you in for a side hug, which you were grossly unprepared for. “Thank… you.” In your bewilderment, it’s all you can manage to say as Annie removes the tin foil from a full pan’s helping of chicken and vegetables. “Isn’t this supposed to be tomorrow’s roast? The Sunday roast?” Harry appears in the kitchen with Sylvia on his hip. He frowns, poking his head over Annie’s shoulder as she preheats the oven. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she replies. They lock eyes. Something tender passes between them; part of you feels like you should look away. “Annie… ” Harry says, softer now. “You didn’t have to do all this.” She ignores him, setting the timer on the oven as AJ slides a small mountain of tupperware into the fridge. The kettle starts to scream. You hadn’t realized someone started tea. You’re not sure what to do besides stand by the sink and stare. AJ rushes over to fill four steaming mugs, portioning different amounts of cream and honey into each. She turns to the few stray dishes in the sink, beginning to wash. “AJ, stop tha—” “Harry, relax would you?” She whips his leg with a dish towel and he relents. “Why is she staying in my room?” Sylvia pipes up from Harry’s arms. He looks across the kitchen at you, and then down to her. “Well see, bug, Daddy’s got a friend who’s gonna stay here for a little while.” Harry points at you and twists so she has a better view. You wave your fingers at her, and Harry asks Sylvia if she can say your name, but she simply buries her face into his sweater. “Like a slumber party?” “Um—” Harry falters. “Sort of, but not quite.” “It’s a grown-up slumber party?” AJ chokes on her tea. The tips of Harry’s ears go crimson.  “Honey, it’s like when Auntie Kristen comes over to Mummy and Mum’s to stay on holiday,” Annie salvages. Harry’s shoulders visibly relax.  Sylvia tugs at the collar of Harry’s sweater. “How long?” she begs. Your heart falls. “‘M not sure, Vi.” Harry moves some hair from her face as she pouts, then kisses her forehead. “Not forever.” “This’ll be good for you, Harry. You need more friends.” Annie pinches Harry’s side before turning to you with a smirk. “Maybe you can finally start hanging out with people your own age.” You shrug to play along, pursing your lips against a smile. “I mean… ” “Harry doesn’t go out much.” Annie’s comedic whisper fills the room as she carries your tea over to you. “Neither do you!” Harry retorts, frowning playfully over his shoulder, attempting to smack her; she narrowly dodges. “Yeah, just the one time,” AJ deadpans, pointing between them and then nodding to Sylvia. “Jesus Christ,” Harry breathes before they break into laughter. You can’t help but join in. Sylvia’s head swings from parent to parent, smiling in oblivious delight. “Alright, alright,” Annie wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. “Just leave the roast in there until you’re ready to eat. We should get going soon.” “Have you got sheets that fit the bed?” Harry asks, bouncing Sylvia on his hip. “Right!” Annie’s eyes go wide. She turns to AJ, “Darling, you mind popping down to the car to get those?” “Since I already hauled up the mattress, am I allowed to play the gender card?” AJ throws eyes at Harry. “Hands are full,” he replies cheerfully. He holds one of Sylvia’s arms up to wave. “Fine,” she relents, plucking the keys from Annie’s back pocket. “Thank you!” Annie calls after her. AJ simply waves a hand behind her head. “Promise I’ll make it worth your while later!” AJ begins to walk faster. Harry shoots Annie a jokingly scandalized look with a hand covering his gaping mouth. She squints at him and rolls her eyes. He puts Sylvia down, whispering in her ear as he points to the miniature arts and crafts table in the living room.  Sylvia takes a seat on the colorful stool, her tiny features already pinched in concentration as she finds a crayon and begins to draw. Harry crouches at her side, watching her for a moment before kissing the top of her head. He breezes past you before you hear the bathroom door lock shut and now it’s just you and Annie alone together. “I love Harry, but he’s a man and he doesn’t know anything.” You shouldn’t laugh, but you do. “We live ten minutes away. If you need anything at all—anything, I mean it, please call us. Mine and AJ’s mobile numbers are both on the fridge.” “Thank you, Annie.” She hesitates, playing absently with the tag of her tea bag before nodding to the living room. “Let’s sit.” You have a seat on the couch; Annie takes the small leather armchair on the other side of the coffee table. Her eyes are warm. You see a flash of that expression that had passed between her and Harry. “He is a good man.” Annie’s voice is so low, it’s almost a whisper. “One of the best I’ve ever met… You’re in good hands, I promise.” There isn’t a chance for you to respond as the sound of the faucet running in the bathroom interrupts. Harry re-enters the living room, his eyes flitting between yours and Annie’s with a curious look on his face. “Am I interrupting something?” “Course not, lovely. We’re just waiting for AJ with the sheets,” Annie replies. She must be killer at poker. AJ slips through the door with a folded bundle of checkered sheets nearly covering her face. “Miss me?” She perches on the armrest of Annie’s chair upon returning from Syvia’s room, an arm wrapped around her shoulders. You are acutely aware of the warmth of Harry’s leg against yours, suddenly too nervous to shift and potentially draw attention to it. Though you try hard not to, you can practically see the silent conversation happening between the three other adults in the room; if you had to guess, it’s probably about you. You categorically refuse to look at Harry, so you’re left with AJ’s nearly imperceptible eyebrow-raising, and a curl of Annie’s lip that seems to be a question and a confirmation all at once. The three of them are a little… too quiet. “Well we should be off then,” she says, drawing her hands together in a clap. “Someone needs a bath tonight.”  Sylvia hurries over and locks her arms around Harry’s legs. He scoops her up like she weighs absolutely nothing. “C’mon now, angel,” he murmurs, glancing over his daughter’s head to look at you with a vaguely resigned expression. “Gonna see you tomorrow, aren’t I? Gotta be good for your mums.” Harry fixes Sylvia’s wobbling lower lip with a stern look. “Hey, now. What’s this about? S’not any different from Mummy’s normal turn with you, right? You know you’ve got too much love pumpkin, we gotta share ya.” Sylvia mumbles something too soft to make out; Harry ducks his head close. “Tell me?” You don’t catch all the words, except, “stars.” His face crumples a bit. “Oh honey, of course you’ll still have your bedtime stars. They’re not going anywhere. Nobody’s gonna take your stars.” “And that sounds like the beginning of a meltdown,” Annie says, standing quickly and pulling Sylvia from Harry’s arms. “Best be on our way before she tests all our eardrums.” Sylvia momentarily seems like she might reach back for him, but then she looks at you as though by accident, and shrinks back into her mother’s arms. Shame knots in your stomach as the two women head for the door. Sylvia peeks over Annie’s shoulder as AJ slings her purse over her arm with the car keys in hand. You busy yourself clearing the empty mugs of tea in some small attempt to give them privacy. “Come ‘round about six, yeah?” Annie says as AJ waves at you and disappears first out the door. Harry is sliding Sylvia’s arm through the second sleeve of her coat. His and Annie’s teamwork seems fluid and practiced. “Sounds good.” He tugs her tiny knit hat more securely over her curls. “Love you, bug.” “Hôn ba đi, Vi.”  You have no idea what Annie’s just said to Sylvia but Harry leans forward to receive his daughter’s kiss, placing an audible one on her forehead in return.  He says something else to Sylvia that’s not English. That deeply tender look in Annie’s face returns. Harry’s hand falls to her waist and she touches his jaw to place a quick peck at the corner of his mouth. “Call us if you need anything.” She turns back to you. “You too. Our numbers are—” “On the fridge,” you finish with a smile, waving. “Thank you, Annie.” Harry shuts the door behind them and the flat falls silent for the first time in what feels like ages. You hear him laugh once before he turns to you. “Sorry about that.” “No. Harry, I should be the one apologizing. Sylvia’s so upset, I feel awful.” Harry looks from you to the door and back again, shaking his head as he moves towards the kitchen. “Oh no, don’t worry about that. She was mostly tired, is all. Happens all the time.” He pauses before joking, “Sorry you had to hear my really terrible Vietnamese.” You watch as he begins to rifle through the cabinets. “What are you doing?” “I’m sure I left it in here somewhere—aha!” He holds an empty mason jar aloft before grabbing a sharpie and the magnetic pad of Hello Kitty sticky notes from the fridge door. Harry scrawls quickly, the cap of the pen between his teeth, before sticking a note on the glass and holding it up for you to read the big, block letters. APOLOGIES.

[rhysismydaddy]

An Artful Revenge Pt. 1

First part of The Archeron Damnation series. 

~Rhysand~

Have you ever had everything you’ve ever wanted dropped in your lap like a present? 

It makes it so easy you almost don’t even want it anymore. 

Before today, this had never happened to me. For over thirty years, I’ve worked and fought and killed for everything I’ve wanted. Nothing about my life has been easy. 

Until today. 

Until a young, beautiful woman paused to look at a piece of art, oblivious to the monster who stood behind her. 

As soon as I looked up and saw her, I felt like an anvil fell on my chest and robbed me of air. I couldn’t fucking breathe.

For the first time in my long, miserable life, I was utterly speechless as Feyre Archeron tilted her head contemplatively, as if the slab of paint was something that required great concentration. 

Her focus was so singular it gave me more than enough time to figure out what I wanted to do. 

But I couldn’t concentrate enough to even do that. Not yet. For now, I just took her in. Photos didn’t do her justice, honestly. Sandy blonde hair, a slight frame more than pleasing to look at from the back, defined cheekbones, full lips. Beautiful. 

It was almost unfair for someone like her to be so beautiful.

She had a hand on her chest and was completely still as she looked at the work in front of her, like she almost couldn’t stand the rush of emotions it gave her. 

I understood the feeling. 

My friends often tell me I should go on the road as a mind reader or fortune teller or some other bullshit. The point is, I’m pretty decent at reading people. 

And just from the way the woman in front of me is looking at an overpriced, ugly piece of art, I know she’s innocent. 

She has no idea who she used to share a bed with, no idea what kind of evil she invited into her life with a smile. 

I also know I can’t let it change things in the slightest. Innocent or not, beautiful or not, I’ve been trying to find the perfect moment to worm my way into her life and turn it fucking upside down. 

And she’s just handed it to me on a silver platter. 

I’ve been looking for her, and I’ve finally found her. 

She’s mine.

~Feyre~

“You like it?”

Gasping and pressing my hand harder against my chest to calm my racing heart, I spin around to face whoever just asked such an obvious question. 

And the first thing I can think is, He’s more beautiful than the painting. 

The stranger’s casually leaning against the opposite wall, hands in his pockets, confidence and wealth and class draped over him like a very impressive, very handsome mask. 

He’s concealed in a jet black suit, but somehow I can tell he’s impressively built; it’s like strength and power are radiating off of him. His face probably took the gods years to craft, the sharp angles of his jaw and slash of his brows perfectly creating the most alluring thing I’ve ever seen. 

Dark hair, piercing violet eyes that scan me head to toe, and smirking, sensual lips complete his features. 

He’s the most attractive male I’ve ever seen. And I’m an art major who frequently finds herself painting models, so that’s saying something. 

“You like it,” he states, whatever he finds on my face taking away the need for a question mark. 

“I do,” I confirm, forcing myself to turn back to the painting and stop gawking like an idiot. 

He surprises me by asking openly, “Why?” 

The painting in question is one of the most revered paintings in the world: Dancers in Blue by Degas. But he’s asking in a way that makes it clear he genuinely doesn’t know why people pay to look at it.

Running my hand through my hair, I try and put it into words. “There’s just so much... energy in it. The background’s nothing but a bunch of paint splatters, and yet you can feel it almost. The dancer’s excitement, the energy of the crowd. It’s breathtaking.”

There’s a beat of silence, and I cringe inwardly, thinking of how weird that probably sounded. 

Then, “Would you like it?”

Only four words and they almost knock me on my ass. I spin back around so fast he chuckles, eyes wide, and sputter, “Would I what?”

I mean, it’s clear he’s rich, but there’s rich, and then there’s buying a Degas rich. 

“I was planning on buying it anyway. It should belong to someone who loves it as much as you obviously do.”

“What?” I repeat, still not understanding why he would offer something like that to a total stranger.

“I presumed you to be intelligent, but if you keep asking that question, I might have to amend that.”

I narrow my eyes, somehow intelligent enough to pick up on the insult. “I’m just confused. I mean, you look rich and all, but that painting’s worth $45 million dollars. And you just asked...”

“If you want it.”

Putting my hands on my hips, I regard him speculatively. “Which psych ward did you break out of, exactly?” 

He smiles, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “The way I see it, you have two options. You can accept the painting and stare at it from home, or I can buy it and hang it with the other one and never give it a second thought.”

My mind can’t stop running, and I think if I wasn’t determined to not completely embarrass myself, I’d collapse to the ground and sob at the impobability of this situation. “What do you mean the other one? You already have a Degas?”

“The pink one,” he confirms casually, flicking a nonexistent fleck of dust off his jacket. 

“You have Dancers in Pink?” He nods, lips twitching at the look on my face. “And why, exactly, are you buying priceless pieces of art if you don’t like them?”

“It’s not priceless. You just told me it’s worth $45 million.” I scowl at the non-answer, and he shrugs. “Someone I don’t care for likes them.”

I connect the dots slowly. “So you buy them so he can’t.”

He nods. 

My mouth falls open, making him smile again. It’s dangerously attractive and distracting, but I still demand, “Who the fuck are you?”

The stranger laughs outright at that, strolling forward and offering me a tan, tattooed hand with practiced ease. I notice there’s a platinum, engraved ring on his pointer finger, and I stare at it for a moment because it looks strangely familiar. 

He seems to pause as I look at it, holding his breath. I’m probably acting like a total weirdo, so I snap out of it and take his hand. 

Because he’s rich and confident and beautiful, he feels entitled to drag his calloused thumb across the back of my hand. 

And because I’m poor and stupid and at the end of the day, just a woman, I blush. Which only gets worse as he notices and smirks. 

“My name is Rhysand.”

“Rhysand what, exactly? Rockefeller? Vanderbilt? Carnegie?” I run out of rich families and fall silent, and he gives me a look like I’m the most amusing thing he’s ever come across. 

“Rhysand Azara. When you google me, you won’t find anything of consequence, I’m afraid.”

The way he says when instead of if makes me blush again, because I’d been waiting for him to leave so I could pull out my cracked, struggling little phone and do exactly that. 

He looks at me expectantly, and I realize I haven’t said a word, just held onto his hand like a toddler being led across the street. “Oh, I’m Feyre.”

Rhysand just raises an eyebrow. 

“Feyre Archeron.”

“And what would I find if I were going to google your name?”

I notice his statement has an if, but I answer anyway, stating facts nervously like an army cadet reporting for duty. “I’m an art major at UChicago. From Missouri.”

“What else?”

“There’s really not much else.”

He tsks, telling me this answer is unacceptable, but doesn’t press it. Instead he shocks the hell out of me once again. “Have dinner with me tonight.”

It isn’t a question, but it isn’t quite a demand, either. It’s a statement, and it’s said like he already knows what my response is going to be. 

But like I just told him, I’m a college student. 

Which means for the past three years, I’ve been dealing with college boys. 

I’ve been asked to “hang,” “smash,” and even to go to coffee on a few rare, wonderful instances. But never, in my entire life, have I been asked---or told--to go to dinner by someone like him. 

I realize it’s because I’ve never met anyone like him. 

Even my ex-boyfriend, who’d been well off and older, was nothing like him. Compared to the man in front of me, everyone else seemed... juvenile. 

They were boys, toddlers even, compared to the man still gripping my hand.

It prompts me to ask, “How old are you?”

He smiles. “Too old for you, I’m sure. Have dinner with me anyway. For the sake of the painting.”

I’m halfway sure I’m in the middle of a fever dream, about to wake up covered in sweat and wondering what the hell just happened, because this cannot be real. 

“You’re... are you actually... you’re offering to give me a $45 million painting if I have dinner with you?” I sound incredulous and wheezy to my own ears, but I don’t even care. 

Who the hell is this guy? 

“You’ll be my second most expensive date.”

“You’re insane.” I look down to where he still holds my hand, entire focus narrowing on the strength in his grip. How would it feel to have him grip me somewhere else? Rhysand gives me a look like he knows what I’m thinking, so I look at the ceiling. Then declare, “I can’t have dinner with you.”

It almost hurt to say it, honestly, because I really love that painting. 

He waits until I look back down at his face before asking, “Why not?” 

Blushing to high hell, I murmur, “It feels a little like... prostitution.”

Rhysand throws his head back and laughs, a full, wonderful sound I hadn’t been expecting. It’s easy and contagious, and I find myself grinning, even though what I said was true. 

“Dinner, gorgeous, was the deal.” He leans in close and whispers, “You coming home with me won’t have anything to do with it.”

I push him away, mind set on giving myself a few feet away from him to compose myself, but I’m so dizzy and confused and strangely turned on I almost fall. His hands shoot out, landing on the bare skin of my shoulders, and I pause. 

And really, really contemplate my life. 

Yesterday I was sitting on the floor of my dusty apartment in my underwear, eating Ramen and struggling to figure out what the fuck to put in the background of my painting. Today I’m being asked to dinner by a probable-billionaire. On the condition I accept a very expensive form of bribery. 

“I’m not going home with you, but I’ll have dinner with you.” He starts to smile, so I cut him off, “Only if you promise to not buy the painting.”

His brows narrow, a silent demand for information. 

“I come here almost every day to see it anyway,” I explain. “Besides, there’s no way I can accept it. It’ll get stolen or damaged or... I just can’t accept it. And the thought of you putting it in some forgotten hallway depresses me.”

He sighs dramatically and re-puts his hand out. “No painting. Just dinner.”

“And no sex.”

A very male look crosses his features. “We’ll discuss that later, I think.”

I roll my eyes but shake hands with him, a strange sense of finality settling over me. I shake it off, telling myself the bare mention of having sex with him is why I’m so nervous. 

~

Four hours later, I stand at the door, purse clutched in one hand, keys in the other. I’m staring at the door, practically foaming at the mouth, waiting for a knock on the other side to hopefully shock me out of my crazed state. 

I’ve been like this for ten minutes already, for some reason not wanting him to wait for a second after he got here. Or maybe I just don’t think he’s actually coming. 

Maybe I’ve been on some horrible practical jokes show, and Rhysand Azara isn’t even a real person. I’ll probably end up on television, blushing and beyond naïve, having been convinced a man who looked like a male model wanted to buy me a Degas. 

I snort, shaking my head at myself. And then almost fall down when a soft yet somehow insistent knock sounds through my small apartment. 

“Holy fuck, he’s here.”

I have no idea why I state it aloud, to myself no less, but I feel like it should be said. Hell, it should be written down in history books. If I kept a diary, I’d write in bold, underlined letters: I HAVE A DATE WITH A VERY STRANGE, VERY HANDSOME MAN.

After fluffing my hair and checking my makeup in a mirror, I stop stalling and open the door. 

He, of course, looks like sex on a goddamn spoon. And for a split second--just a moment, I swear--I debate grabbing him by his expensive lapels, dragging him backward into my apartment, and finding out what his mouth feels like against mine. 

“Feyre,” he greets, snapping me out of my perverted daydream. “You look beautiful.”

I know it’s dumb to be flattered, because it’s fairly standard to tell a girl she looks nice when you pick her up for a date, but it does my ego no harm because how I look right now took some fucking work. 

I shaved from the eyebrows down, exfoliated, scrubbed, cleansed, plucked, and spent thirty minutes deciding what to wear. 

I’d taken a gamble he’d wear a suit and dressed to match in a black dress, unremarkable save for the very low back, and simple heels. 

I step outside with him, grateful for the warm weather, and turn to lock the door. 

Rhysand makes a humming sound, and I freeze as I feel a finger drag down my spine, stopping right at the edge of the fabric. Which happens to be very, very close to something indecent. 

“Beautiful,” he states again, and hell if I don’t feel like it. 

I finally manage to get the lock closed, then spin around to face him. Up close, there’s silver flecks in his eyes, like starlight. Oh, and he smells amazing. Something manly and wintery and not sold in a bottle. 

I. Am in. So much. Trouble. 

I have no idea why this man has taken an interest in me, but I know it can only end in one way: me in love, him long gone. 

But even though I know it, I’m ready. Five minutes with him makes me feel more alive than I ever have, and even though it’s a disaster in the making, I can’t bring myself to care. 

He offers his hand and pulls me towards a--surprise--black car, one that looks expensive. After depositing me in the passenger seat, he goes around and climbs in beside me. 

“Where are we going?”

“I’m making a guess about something.”

I glance over at him. “Have you ever realized you don’t give actual answers?”

"Yes,” he responds with a grin, turning the stereo on. 

Twenty minutes later, I’m practically bursting at the seems to know where he’s taking me. 

What kind of guess is he making? Also, what does that even mean?

He pulls up in front of a nice looking place I’ve never been to--again, surprise--and comes around to open my door. Despite the crowd, as soon as the hostess sees the man leading me through the restaurant, we’re ushered into the back. 

Turns out the place has private rooms. It’s quiet and cozy, and I’m pretty sure only the president gets this kind of treatment. 

Once I’m seated across from him, menu in hand, I have to ask, “Was your guess correct?”

“I don’t know, do you like French food?”

I smile because j’adore French food, and he grins back because he somehow knew that already. 

The waiter comes to ask for our drink order, and I gesture at Rhysand for him to order mine. I know nothing about wine, and he obviously does, because he orders something fancy and expensive sounding. 

There’s soft music playing in the background, candles in the corner, and a handsome man sitting across from me. It’s the most romantic situation I’ve ever been in, hands down. 

He braces an arm on the table, watching as I take a small sip of the wine. Trying to maintain some sort of maturity, I say, “You have good taste.”

“I do,” he replies, but his eyes are on me, not the wine. “Are you almost done with school?”

“One more year,” I answer, trying not to cheer as I say it. Four years of education for an art major is kind of ridiculous to me, but it would’ve been stupid to turn down a full scholarship. 

Rhysand hums, nodding. Even though he asked, I somehow feel like he already knew that. Weird. 

“Did you go to college?”

He gives me a strange look. “My formal education stopped around seventh grade.”

It’s an effort to keep my jaw off the table, and I’m proud of myself when I say mildly, “Impressive.”

“Being uneducated impresses you?”

I scowl. “No, but having everything you do despite not being handed anything is.”

His face stays impassive, but there’s a twinkle of respect in his eyes. The waiter comes back and asks what we want to eat, and because the menu I’ve barely even looked at is in French, I get the same thing as Rhysand. 

When we’re alone again, I ask, “Okay, spill. How’d you know I love French food?”

Rhysand shrugs. “I’m good at reading people.”

I wave a hand, because that wasn’t answer enough, and he continues on a sigh. “You’re kind of... easy to read. No offense.”

“Interesting you say ‘No offense’ after calling a woman easy,” I note.

He laughs, but points out, “You’re not easy. I offer to buy you a Degas and you won’t even come home with me.”

It’s my turn to shrug. “Once again, you haven’t answered my question.”

There’s a long beat of silence. “You like French food because you like Impressionist art, and both Degas and Monet were French. Your dream vacation also happens to be Paris, and eating French food makes you feel closer to that goal.”

My mouth drops open, and he laughs soundly at the blatant display of shock, but before I can ask how the hell he knew that, the waiter comes with our food. Identical displays of delicious-smelling pasta are set in front of us. 

I reach for my fork, but he grabs our plates and switches them. 

When I raise a brow, he shrugs and says, “In case you were thinking about poisoning me.”

I snort in a very ladylike manner, tucking into my food. A soft moan escapes me, and he looks up at me, bite halfway between his plate and mouth. 

“Uh, sorry,” I murmur, blushing down the neckline of my dress. 

Rhysand just smiles, making me feel young once again. “Don’t be. I quite enjoy the sound of a pleasured woman.”

Rolling my eyes, I take another bite, managing to refrain from sounding too pleasured. “So, Paris. How’d you know?”

He doesn’t really give me an answer, just says, “I bet you have a little Eifel Tower trinket on your desk and everything.”

An embarrassed laugh bubbles out of me, because I do. I totally do. I’ve had it for three years and look at it every time I’m tempted to drop out.

“What do you do for a living?” I ask, trying to get us back on even ground. I feel like he somehow knows everything about me, and even though I’ll have to ask questions, I’m finding out at least one thing about him. 

“I’m in real estate.”

I nod, ready to just accept that answer. Then I look around us, remembering how crowded the restaurant was, and start giggling. “You own this restaurant, don’t you?”

A sigh. Busted. “Yes, I do.” 

I tsk and give him a judgmental look. “You can’t take me somewhere you own for a date. That’s cheating.”

He takes a sip of his wine. “How so?”

“It just is.” I sigh, just to tease him. “Shame. I was feeling so romanticized, maybe enough so to go home with you. Not anymore, though.”

He rolls his eyes, the gesture making him younger. “Eat your food.”

I do, and by the end, I’m so full I probably look pregnant. “Holy fuck, that was good.”

Rhysand smiles, like it’s adorable that I cursed, and pushes back his empty plate. “Dessert?” I shake my head. “Coffee?” 

“I’m so full I might die.”

Rising with fluid grace, he extends a hand. “Then come with me.”

Not bothering to ask questions at this point, I just take his hand and follow him out, noticing the city has a slight chill now that the sun’s gone down.

“Why is it women can never plan for the sun going down?” he ponders, wrapping me in his suit jacket.

“It’s a test to see if you’ll let us freeze to death.”

Rhysand chuckles and slides his hand into mine, so casually and simply it seems like a mundane thing we do every day.

I know I’ve known him for a total of five hours, but everything about today has been... easy. Natural. It’s like we just click, and I’m not stupid enough to question it right now. 

“You’re quite the gentleman,” I remark, bringing up our intertwined fingers to look at the tattoos on his skin. He’s silent for a minute, and when I glance over, he’s looking at the ground as we walk, a strange look on his face. “What?”

“You’re probably the only person in this entire world who believes that.”

I scoff, because the idea that the man next to me, holding my hand and running his thumb across my fingers, is anything but a gentleman is absurd.

“What other paintings do you have?” 

It’s a question I’ve been dying to ask since he mention his other Degas. 

“It’s a shame you’re determined to not go home with me. You could see them yourself.”

I drop his hand and shove his shoulder, my lips twitching as he laughs. “You asshole. You’re leveraging access to a private collection for sex? Men are horrible.”

Rhysand chuckles, throwing an arm around me and pulling me close. “I have a Monet,” he whispers in my ear, placing a featherlight kiss to my temple. “And a Rembrandt.” 

“I hate you.”

He releases me and grabs my hand again, then pulls me toward a dark alley I hadn’t noticed he’d been guiding me toward. “Um... where are you taking me?”

He, of course, doesn’t tell me. No, he shushes me. 

“I will not be quiet while you drag me down some seedy alley!” I’m beginning to panic a bit, because besides spending way too much time alone, I like to watch Law and Order, and this is turning into the beginning of a familiar episode. 

“Is this because I said I won’t have sex with you tonight?” Before he can respond, I blurt, “Because I probably will at some point, I’m just kind of nervous-”

“I’m not going to murder you, Feyre darling.”

“Promise?”

“Yes. Now shut up.”

Pouting like a sullen child, I shut my mouth and accept my fate. He tugs me further down the black alley, and eventually I can’t even see. Can he? Is he some sort of vampire? Am I really asking myself that?

The glow of his phone illuminates the dark for a second, and I catch the time 11:59. “One more minute.”

“Until...?”

He’s silent for thirty-eight seconds, then he says, “Until this.”

Suddenly, the space above us lights up, colors shooting all around us in a kaleidoscope of reds and blues and greens. 

Gasping, I look up to see the air above us full of glass lanterns, the surfaces painted with swirling black paint. The alley is covered wall to wall, and the end result gives the walls around us beautiful designs and dimension.

I laugh in surprise, twirling around to take in the entire place. “What is this?”

“We’re in the artist’s quadrant of the city. I don’t know why, but they do this every night, exactly at midnight.”

I spin around in a circle, arms out, smiling from ear to ear. He watches with a grin, leaning against one of the walls casually. I walk down the alley, eyes up, taking in everything. 

It’s the best thing I’ve ever seen. 

The lanterns are each unique, like they were done by different people. Some are solid colors, others are mixtures. 

I look back over at Rhysand, beams of red and blue and pink bouncing off his face, a smile playing at his full lips. It’s obvious he took me here because he knew I’d love it, and it makes me feel insanely special. 

Still giddy with happiness, I bound over to him, put my hands on either side of his face, and press my lips to his. 

For a second, we probably look like idiots, just standing there pressing our smiles together. 

Then, like we’re in synch, the smiles fall away and we start to actually kiss. 

His hands slip inside the jacket, linking at the small of my back and pulling me closer to him. He’s still leaning against the wall, back against the brick, and I put my hands on his chest, fingers digging into the corded muscle I find there. 

Rhysand pulls back for a minute, traces his fingers over my face lightly. He looks so surprised and confused, I’m tempted to ask what’s wrong. But then his mouth is back on mine, moving more fervently, and I forget all about it. 

His hands cup my jaw, tilting my face to where he wants it, then slide in my hair. 

He tastes like honey and citrus, and I slide my tongue in his mouth, desperate for more. I moan at the taste of him, and he suddenly moves, like the sound unleashed something in him. 

One hand grabs the back of my thigh, the other wrapping around my waist, and then I’m the one against the wall. The brick digs into my shoulder blades, but I hardly even notice, because he wraps my leg around his hips and presses us together. 

His mouth is sliding down my jaw, sucking on the spot between my neck and shoulder softly. I make a low sound, slip my hands in his hair, and prepare to eat him alive. 

And then the world goes dark. 

The lanterns above us turn off, casting us in darkness, but we don’t stop for a few minutes. When we’re both breathless, he pulls away with a low chuckle and releases my leg. 

I slide down him slowly, leaning against the wall for support. 

What the hell was that? 

Did I really just make out with a complete stranger in an alley? 

The answer to that question--and the one of if I’d do it again--is hell yes.  

He runs a hand over his lips, almost in disbelief, then takes a healthy step back and holds out a hand. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

I take another look at the disheveled hair, swollen lips, rumpled shirt. And I know without a doubt that if he were on my doorstep, looking at me with those bedroom eyes, I’d pull him inside without a thought. 

“I think I should take a cab.”

Rhysand smiles, knowing exactly why. “I’m flattered.”

“Shut up,” I laugh, pushing him away and starting back toward the busier street. 

Even though the street’s deserted, he manages to hail a cab easily, the bright yellow car slowing to a stop next to us. I open the back door, kiss his cheek, and slip inside. “Thank you for dinner. Even though you cheated.”

He rolls his eyes and shuts the door behind me. “I’ll call you.”

I nod, feeling a little ridiculous for how happy that statement makes me. Tonight was... like nothing I’ve ever experienced. It was just dinner, I remind myself, but it doesn’t do any good. 

It feels like the beginning of something. 

The cab driver glances at me in the rearview mirror and laughs. “That good, huh?”

I don’t even respond because yeah. That good. 

I’m halfway home before I realize I never even gave him my number. And I honestly wonder if I’ll ever see Rhysand Azara again. 

_________________________________________________

Part 2

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