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#endless bells hells
counterspelling · 6 days
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Endless Bells Hells
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deenadraws · 10 months
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Finally finished up my Bells Hells inspired piece to go along with my previous CR campaign pieces! Pate needed their own little screenshot because I adore that little horny bastid heheh. Enjoy!
Is it Thursday yet?
Bells Hells is owned by Critical Role and their respective players. ✨
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deep-swamp-bog · 1 year
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"You know you saved my life, right" has been on loop in my brain since Imogen said it. I choked up immediately because the emotional magnitude in her voice as she said it has the same energy as me and so many other fans at live shows, panels, and meet and greets meeting the cast and talking about critical role.
I found CR at a very dark place in my life where I felt so isolated, as a young adult in a small town just wanting a friend and to feel accepted. I needed a friend so badly and then i found a bunch of nerdy ass voice actors. I binged CR1 in 2.5 months, i caught up on CR2, i found a community and representation. CR has helped me figure out what I want to do with my life. It's given me the courage to move across the country, twice. CR changed my life for the better and that's not an uncommon experience in this fandom.
So for Imogen, the character I relate to most this campaign, be so vulnerable with the person she loves most in WHITESTONE of all places... I felt seen.
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undead-knick-knack · 5 months
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Ashton talking to Chetney be like
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Something about how Ashton is the only one not left behind. They're the one who managed to stay on and immediately demanded that that the ship go back and find them.
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horse-immorality · 10 months
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Every reaction Bor'Dor has to every single thing is correct
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andi-o-geyser · 1 year
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“There’s only so far you can push into the unknown before the unknown begins to push back”
the very eldritch vibe at the table tonight is unmatched. it’s like, you go girl, explore the depths of the universe and all the horrors it holds 
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If they get Laudna back and she’s any different than she was before, are her thoughts still going to sound musical to Imogen?
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actual-changeling · 8 months
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i have watched the kiss scene and the breakup as a whole more times than i can count and my brain is still trying to process all the things it picked up on.
my newest painful obsession: aziraphale thought crowley came back for him.
they kiss, aziraphale says i forgive you and instead condemns them both, crowley leaves. the lip touching itself is fucking essay worthy because holy SHIT the amount of micro expressions flickering across his face is endless, michael sheen acted his ass off.
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i think it's a mixture of surprise, unspoken love, a HEAVY dose of fear, disbelief, and oh my god what did he just do what did i just do. he turns away from the door and we get a very very quick shot of how exactly he is angled.
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standing up straight with faked spiteful anger, the same anger he spit at crowley out of fear and insecurity, chin up, clearly waiting for something - or rather someone. we gotta remember that every single time crowley has left aziraphale, he came back. every. single. time. he came back and apologized, that's what they do.
crowley comes back and aziraphale forgives him and they continue bearing their silence.
the bell rings when the door opens again, just like it did when crowley left, and just. look at his face. how quickly he swivels around. the blink and you will miss it spark of hope.
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and then the pure devastation when he realizes it's not crowley.
aziraphale thought crowley was coming back for him. he was WAITING for him to come back. even after all that, he couldn't imagine crowley actually leaving him behind, especially not after that kiss and his entire indirect love confession.
just like crowley thought for a tiny heartbeat that aziraphale was kissing him back, aziraphale hoped, hell, he fucking thought he KNEW crowley would never abandon him. not after "i could always rely on you. you could always rely on me." aziraphale has taken him for granted, of course he thought it was him coming through the door.
but that spark of hope gets stomped out beneath the metatrash's feet and he fully turns around, unable to face him and the reality of it all.
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this time, he went too far.
this time, crowley did not want forgiveness.
he was about to say i love you and turned it into i forgive you, still clinging to their old ways, their old rituals, just that they are no longer those beings, no longer in that specific relationship. everything has changed.
they both thought the other would never abandon them. turns out they were both wrong.
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beachylupin · 6 months
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Werewolves of London || Remus Lupin x American!Fem!Reader
i've crawled out of writing slump hell to publish this. i really hope you all enjoy. feedback is always appreciated :-) let me know if you'd like to see more! <3 pt. 2 here word count: 3.6k warnings: talking about children being turned, mentions of a weapon, maybe a few swear words, i literally can't think of anything else
“You’re looking for the Leaky Cauldron in London,” the gruff-sounding man said over the phone. “Where are you calling from?”
“Heathrow?” You said, sounding confused. Where else would you be calling from? “Am I supposed to be somewhere else?”
“Right…” he muttered into the phone, shushing the person who was talking behind him. “You didn’t apparate to King’s Cross from there?”
“I didn’t know I was supposed to,” you mumbled as he said, “Could’ve just apparated instead of just taking a plane.”
“Have you apparated across an ocean?” You quipped, and he stopped grumbling. “Listen, I’ll figure it out, okay? Should I catch the tram to King’s Cross and call you when I get there? Or would you like me to apparate to somewhere I’ve never been?”
“Just take the bloody tram. We’ll send someone to meet you,” he grumbled, half-talking to the person behind him before hanging up abruptly.
You stood confused for a beat before hanging up the phone, quietly apologizing to the person behind you for taking so long.
Following the signs, you made it to the tram, boarding just before the doors closed.
You sat, keeping your luggage on your lap and you looked around at the other passengers. You were sure they could tell you weren’t from here.
You had on a long, leather duster jacket, hiding a dark green top and a pair of black bell bottoms. Tapping your heels to the song playing on your walkman, you ignored them, staring out the window at the underground darkness.
It wasn’t strange being called somewhere else. As someone who worked as an herbalist and potioneer who specialized in harvesting monkshood and brewing the difficult potion invented a few years prior, this was your job.
You were a board member of the Lycanthropy Regulation and Control Committee at the Magical Congress of the United States of America. It was your duty to try and prevent them from coming into towns and completely ravaging them by giving them wolfsbane when they were caught.
Wolfsbane, monkshood, or aconite was deadly. If it was harvested by someone inexperienced, they could simply die. For a lycanthrope, this was their saving grace. This miracle plant is what kept them human.
You were here to help develop a type of werewolf resolution, Project Blue, for what a leader of sorts, Mr. Moody, had called “The Order.” You thought of this group as the resistance to whatever race war had been started here.
This resolution would be developed in secret by both you and the maker of the wolfsbane potion, Damocles Belby, and it had to remain a secret. You had received a list of names that could know exactly what you were doing attached to a different letter from Mr. Dumbledore, and you assumed the rest were to be left in the dark.
Mr. Dumbledore also gave you a protector, who was called Moony. You were given specific instructions to board with this Mr. Moony and tell nobody only if they told you the code word: blue. To anyone unsuspecting, blue is just a color, but to someone who knew about the project, it meant the color of the solution: wolfsbane.
The war really must have been in full swing, and considering that you were an American half-blood, you were stepping into dangerous territory.
Sure, the United States had its fair share of war, but it was the mixing pot of the world. Pure blood, half blood, or no-maj born: a wizard was a wizard. You had always been treated just the same.
Werewolves, however? They were something else completely. The United States werewolf was one of the most dangerous creatures in the world. Having endless room to roam, they often lived outside of civilization, only coming in when they needed someone new to join their tribe.
This meant taking the children in quiet towns and turning them into werewolves so that by the time that they were fully grown and strong, they had no memories of being a human. 
These were the werewolves that you typically saw: mangy, feral, and insisting that they didn’t need wolfsbane. Nearly all of them had never taken it before, spending their whole werewolf existence in the wild, losing themselves completely, even when they weren’t in their wolf form.
It was devastating, not only for the families of these children, but for the werewolves that were doing their part to prevent anyone else from getting this terrible disease.
The werewolves of London and the surrounding area were almost always docile. Having taken wolfsbane from the moment they turned, they’d given up the desire to live a feral life.
However, there was a pack that was a danger to The Order. A pack that led the American lifestyle and stayed away unless they needed a new member. One led by Fenrir Greyback. A name that put shivers down anyone’s spine.
The tram screeched to a stop at King’s Cross, and you got off, immediately finding a phone. You dialed the number again.
“Who am I looking for?” You asked as a now different louder man coughed.
“Uhhh-” He cupped the receiver, his shouting muffled. “Aye! Who’d we send again?” Someone answered him and he loudly removed his hand. “A blonde girl! My age! Pretty.”
“How am I supposed to know your age?” You asked, looking around for a blonde girl. “I can’t see you.”
“Oh… Um, right,” he mumbled, covering the receiver again. “Hey! How would you describe Marlene?!” His shouting was muffled again, but this time, the phone was forcibly taken from him, a girlish huff breathing into the receiver.
“Right, you’re looking for a girl named Marlene McKinnon.” This girl sounded exasperated, shushing the laughter behind her. “She left here wearing leather trousers and a feather duster coat. ‘M sure she’s wearing a beret,” she said as you looked around King’s Cross.
You found who fit the bill immediately, dressed in exactly what the girl described.
“I found her! Thank you!” You breathed. “I’ll probably see you in a little bit.”
“Most likely!” She sounded like she was smiling. “Goodbye, and safe travels!”
Hanging up the phone, you picked your luggage up again, weaving through the small crowd to where the pretty blonde was standing.
She looked to be about in her late teens. Her makeup was sparkly and dark, and she had on about a million necklaces. The feather duster coat was gaudy. Nearly everything about her was gaudy.
“Marlene?” You asked as soon as you approached her. You introduced yourself, taking her ringed hand into your gloved one.
“You must be our gal!” She said, pulling you into a tight hug. “How was your flight?”
You shrugged. “Long.”
“Bloody hell, I can only imagine,” she said, her hand still in yours as she pulled you through the station. “Leaky is just a few blocks down!”
Marlene finally let go of your hand as soon as you were out of the busy station and in the rainy September air. “Have you been to London before?”
You shook your head. “I’ve never been over the ocean.”
“Ooh, first time?” She asked, her eyebrows raised. “We’ll have to show you a good one then.”
“Well, I’m here on business,” you said, desperately trying to keep up with her. “I’m not sure if I’ll have enough time to have fun.”
“How long are you here for?” She asked.
You shrugged, genuinely not knowing. “However long it takes for it to get developed.”
She furrowed her eyebrows. “What’s it?”
“I’m not supposed to disclose that information,” you said quietly, looking at your feet. At least to you.
Marlene glanced at you, her expression unreadable. “Well, I’m sure you’ll still have time.”
You narrowed your eyes slightly, but not wanting to argue, you continued on after her, your luggage clattering on behind you.
The Leaky Cauldron was a hole-in-the-wall type of pub. It was no wonder they were allowed to be in downtown London without worrying about no-majs coming in.
It was fairly busy, and Marlene quickly bee-lined to the back where there was a secluded table full of people. She mumbled something before sitting down, and they all turned to look at you as you excused yourself past a group of open-mouthed witches.
“Hi everyone,” you said, tucking your hair behind your ears once you set your luggage down. You scanned their surprisingly young faces. “Who was the first person I talked to on the phone? Um.. Mr. Alastor M-” Moony? Moody?
“Moody?” The raven-haired boy said. You nodded, eyebrows raised hopefully. “He left.”
“He left?” You asked, scoffing when everyone at the table nodded. “Why?”
“You took too long,” he replied as if it was an easy answer. “He’ll be ‘round tomorrow morning with everyone else.”
“I told you that you’d have time,” Marlene said, smiling tightly. “Things don’t get done around here unless you stick us to it. The rest of ‘em are old.”
“They’re busy,” another boy corrected her.
“Great,” you sighed. “Well, in that case-” You pinched off your leather gloves and stuck your hand out to the raven-haired boy, introducing yourself.
“Sirius Black,” he said, shaking your hand enthusiastically. “It’s nice to meet you!”
You nodded then looked at the bespeckled boy. “Tell me your name is something easy to remember,” you teased, smiling at the other boy.
“I’m James,” he said, and you sighed a breath of faux relief.
“I’ll remember that one,” you said, smiling at the rest of the group.
James then pointed to the blonde boy. “That’s Peter. Next to him is Lily, and this-”
You could tell immediately who he was. Mr. Dumbledore, who you still hadn’t met yet, had told you that there was indeed a werewolf in “The Order,” and up until this point, you couldn’t discern who. 
But he looked the part, down to the claw-like scars that riddled his face. He didn’t look dangerous. He looked the least dangerous of them all, dressed like an old man in a funky blue and brown sweater and dingy jeans. You couldn’t tell if he was a teen or fifty from the way he held himself, but considering his friends, you decided he was on the younger side of the spectrum.
“Remus,” he said, smiling slightly.
“Remus,” you repeated. You held his gaze for a beat longer before clearing your throat. “Well, it’s nice to meet all of you.” You glanced at your luggage then back at the table.
He glanced at your luggage as well, meeting your eyes with a look that said, “Leave it.” You furrowed your eyebrows.
Sirius pulled out a chair for you, patting it so you’d sit.
You obliged, looking around the table.
“I was hoping Moo-” Your eyebrows furrowed, trying to remember his name. Not Moony. “Um, Alastor?”
“Moody,” Sirius finished for you, exchanging a look with James.
“Yeah, Moody was going to be here to set me up with the right person, but I see that might not happen tonight,” you said, settling into your seat.
“Well, who exactly are you looking for?” James asked, looking around the group. “We might be able to set you up with…” He baited you, waiting for the name.
“I’m not supposed to disclose that information with you,” you mumbled, looking down. “It’s… It’s all very secretive, I know, but I got very detailed instructions about what I’m supposed to do and who I’m supposed to discuss and do it with.” You threw a pained smile at the group. “Your names aren’t on that list…” You glanced at Remus, then sent your gaze at the table. “Only a few can know right now.”
“So we can know nothing?” Sirius asked, eyebrows furrowed.
“I’m sure you’ll know eventually,” you suggested and sighed when he rolled his eyes. “I’m really sorry. I wish I could tell you.”
“What can we know?” Marlene asked, causing you to shrug.
“What do you want to know?” You countered, glancing at the small group.
Lily stared at you with narrowed eyes. “What do you do in America?”
“I work for the Magical Congress of the United States,” you answered simply. “I’m a herbalist and potioneer.”
The girls cocked their heads.
“How old are you?” Peter asked, resting his cheeks on his hands.
“Nineteen.”
“And you work for them at nineteen?” Peter acted shocked, his eyebrows furrowed.
“Yeah?”
Peter humphed, sitting back in his chair. “Carry on.”
“Have you always lived in America?” James asked, and you nodded.
“Where do you live in America?” Sirius asked.
“I kind of move from place to place depending upon the need for me,” you replied. A few of them furrowed their eyebrows. “Home base is New York City, though.”
“Is that why you’re here?” Marlene asked. “They needed you for something?”
You paused, shrugging slightly. “Yes?”
“For herbalism and potions,” Lily clarified, and you sighed, shrugging.
“I suppose,” you said. “I’m not going to tell you why I’m here.”
Lily pursed her lips. “I’ll figure it out. Just give me a moment.”
“I really don’t think you will,” you said, your eyebrows pinched together. “I haven’t given you anything to work off of.”
But Lily ignored you, her eyes closed as she thought. Marlene was next to her, trying to piece it together.
“Remus,” Sirius said, leaning to look at him. “You’re awfully quiet over there. Do you have any dying questions for the girl at the stand?”
Remus, who had been all but paying attention, hummed, looking at you.
“What’s your favorite color?” He asked.
Sirius and James let out a laugh.
“Really?” Peter asked, hands hitting the table. “We’re in a Sherlock type mystery and you ask what her favorite color is?”
“It’s an important question,” Remus replied, shrugging. He looked back at you, hopeful.
“Blue,” you said, and he narrowed his eyes.
“Blue?” He repeated, and you nodded. A knowing smile grew on Remus’ face. “Interesting.”
“How is that bloody interesting?” Sirius asked. “It’s blue. Everything is bloody blue.”
Remus simply shrugged, glancing at you again. “Just… fitting.”
You narrowed your eyes. He must’ve been the one that Mr. Dumbledore called Moony.
“What’s yours?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Green,” he said, smiling. Sirius looked between the two of you.
You nodded, looking around. “Any other questions?”
Sirius narrowed his eyes. “What does he know?”
You glanced at Remus. “Probably as much as you.”
Remus confirmed your suspicion with a nod.
“Well, we’ll figure you out,” Lily said, leaning her head on Sirius’ arm. “Before you tell us.”
“Where are you staying?” James asked, glancing at Lily and Sirius. “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you stayed with us.”
“I actually have a room booked here,” you lied, pushing yourself up from the chair. “I should probably see if it’s ready for me.”
“Right,” James said, smiling slightly as he stood. “We should be off, shouldn’t we?” He asked, reaching for Lily’s hand. She took it, allowing herself to be pulled up, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“We have an early morning,” Sirius said, glancing at Marlene. “You ready?”
Marlene nodded, getting up. “It was nice meeting you,” she said curtly.
“Yeah, it was nice meeting all of you,” you replied, watching Remus stand, nose crinkled as his knee popped.
“We’ll see you tomorrow,” Sirius said, looking at Lily. “We’ll have you figured out by then.”
You sighed. “Please don’t try to figure me out.”
“Too late,” Lily said sweetly, her hand in James’ as she started pulling him out of the pub.
James waved a goodbye to you and Marlene tailed the two of them out with Sirius following slightly behind. He turned around.
“You coming, Moony?” He asked, and Remus shook his head.
“I need a night cap,” he said, waving Sirius away. “Don’t worry about me.”
Sirius took this dismissal with a raised eyebrow, slightly shrugging before walking away.
“Moony?” You said quietly, crossing your arms over your chest. “That isn’t a very clever nickname.”
“Neither is Bane, but I didn’t say anything,” he quipped, reaching to take your luggage but you beat him to it.
“Bane?” You said, your nose crinkled. “That’s what your leader is calling me?”
“Better than Monk like he originally wanted,” he said, offering you his arm. You looked at it, sighing. “We’re going to have to apparate.”
“I know,” you grumbled, taking his arm. “I just hate doing it.”
“It’s not my favorite thing either,” he said, leading you outside the pub.
The wet sidewalk was clear, allowing Remus to quickly lead you into the alleyway, looking around again.
“Take a breath,” he said, and you did so, the breath leaving you as soon as there was a familiar tug on your navel.
The Eldritch Manor lay before you, half destroyed. It was supposed to be your place to sleep and work. A place to be safe. This didn’t look like a place where you could do any of those things.
Half of the manor was missing, rubble and stones lying in a place where a wing might’ve been. A house fire was possible, but it looked as though something hit the house.
“‘S not much,” Remus said quietly, allowing you to drop his arm. He immediately reached into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.
He could tell you weren’t impressed by the way you straightened, your owlish eyes staring at the half of the house that was still standing.
It was also made of stone, but it was covered in dying ivy, a plant that would’ve flourished in the summer. A gnarled branch weaved its way up the front of the house.
“I wasn’t impressed either,” he said through a puff of his cigarette. “But it’s what we’ve got.”
He stamped out the other half of his cigarette and headed inside, leaving you to follow behind him.
You looked around Remus’ house. It wasn’t huge but it wasn’t tiny. Books and blankets lay on almost every surface, and there was a chill running through the house that you couldn’t quite place. You set your luggage down and toed off your shoes, watching as Remus knelt down in front of the fireplace, busying himself with stacking logs.
“This isn’t where I normally live,” he said, his knees cracking as he stood up from the fireplace. “This is temporary.” He took his wand out, lighting the fire wordlessly.
“Like a safe-house?” You asked, sitting down in a leathery chair, covering yourself with the throw blanket.
“Exactly like that,” he said, sitting down across from you. “Got here a few days ago to make it homey.”
You looked around the small living room. There was an endless supply of books around, as if that’s all he did in his spare time. You leaned, peeking at the kitchenette, where a stove and a fridge sat, looking as if they’d never been used.
“It’s nice,” you said quietly, looking into the fire.
A lull fell over the two of you. Maybe Remus figured that you were tired from your journey, or maybe he didn’t know what to say.
You didn’t have much to say either. This was the first time that you were meeting him, and you only knew a few things about him. First, his name was Remus, and he went by Moony. Second, his favorite color was actually most likely green considering all of the blankets in this house were either green or brown, and third, he was a werewolf who hated being a werewolf.
You didn’t have to ask him to know that. The way he tried to act normal was a telltale sign.
Remus cleared his throat, causing you to turn your attention to him. “So Moody said what you’re working on is… dangerous? And that you needed my help?”
“Sort of,” you sighed, and he continued staring, urging you to go on. “You haven’t been debriefed yet, have you?” you asked, sitting up straighter. He shook his head causing you to sigh again.
“You need to talk with me?” Remus asked.
“I’m actually here to consult with Damocles Belby, the inventor of-”
“Wolfsbane, yeah,” he interjected. 
“Alastor was supposed to set that up tonight, but he left, as you know,” You said, your tone clipped. “Him and I… We’re trying to fashion a type of… explosive to use in case of-”
“A werewolf?” Remus asked, and you reluctantly nodded.
“A feral werewolf,” you corrected him, your mouth tight.
“Ah,” Remus tutted. “So you’re saying someone whose a monster-”
“That’s not at all what I’m saying,” you said quietly as his gaze dropped from yours. “I’m not saying they’re monsters. Werewolves aren’t monsters, but I don’t think you understand the real problem-“
“Moony is… I am the problem,” he quipped, getting up. “I think I understand it quite well. Now, if you’re thinking you’re going to use a bomb on me-”
“I never said it was going to be you-”
“-you’re daft, alright?” He finished over you, pulling the sleeves of his sweater down as he strode across the room.
You scrambled after him. “You’re not part of the problem, Remus!” You called, following him down the hall. “You do your part to prevent the spread! I can tell!”
He snorted, looking at you over his shoulder. “If that’s your way of telling me that you think I’m a virgin, you’re dead wrong.”
Your eyebrows instantly furrowed, taken aback. “Lycanthropy isn’t spread that way,” you muttered more to yourself than to him. You huffed, catching his hand as he rounded the kitchen doorway. He stopped, glaring at you. “You’re not understanding me. You haven’t turned anyone. You’re not biting anyone on full moons, right?”
“Right.”
“Okay, good,” you huffed, letting him pull his hand away from yours. “The explosive is for the ones who try their hardest to turn as many innocents as possible. The ones who flock into defenseless villages and towns to kill and turn anyone they see.” You swallowed, your tone quiet, “The ones who turn children.”
Remus’ face turned from sullen to serious as he blinked, eyebrows furrowing. “Why do you need my help?”
“I think you might know where they’re hiding.”
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yournowheregirl · 1 year
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my mind’s been stuck on secret dolly parton fan southern!eddie and suddenly it sprouted 2k of fic so uhhh here ya go? more to follow! (unbeta’d btw) [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6 + complete on ao3]
part 1: jolene
He might not look it, but deep down, hidden beneath the leather jackets and silver chains, Eddie Munson is a good old-fashioned southern boy. If you heard his uncle talk, you’d know he’s not from around Hawkins, but Eddie has mostly hidden his roots over the years. He had traded in his faded blue jeans for ripped black ones, his momma’s country vinyls were hidden away and replaced by heavy metal tapes and his drawl only comes out when he’s drunk out of his mind, calling everyone darlin’ and sweet pea. 
He misses Tennessee sometimes, though he doesn’t remember much. He misses the warmth of the people and the sunshine, he misses the cornbread his old neighbor Mrs. Carter used to make, but he mostly misses his mom. Misses her laugh and the way she tucked him into bed with a song every night, always with the same Dolly Parton song. 
Maybe that’s why he always reaches out to Dolly when he’s feeling down in the dumps. 
And all because of Steve motherfuckin’ Harrington.
He doesn’t really know when it started exactly. Maybe it was back in high school, when Steve just filled out those gym shorts way too nicely. Maybe it was that summer when Eddie kept wandering through Starcourt Mall, hoping to catch a glimpse of Steve in that damn sailor outfit. Maybe it was going through hell and back and somehow coming out alive, matching demobat scars and all. 
He doesn’t know when, all he knows he’s halfway in love with Steve and it’s frustrating to say the least.
Frustrating because he and Steve are somehow friends now and friends apparently talk each other’s ears off about their respective love lives. Including Steve’s endless supply of flirtations with girls at Family Video, just like today.
Steve’s been sweet talking some girl named Emily for the past twenty minutes now, really laying it on thick. Telling her how nice this shirt looks on her, how pretty her eyes look, how she really should find someone to watch Sixteen Candles with. Eddie turns away so that Steve won’t see the way his eyes roll at yet another one of Emily’s adorable little giggles. 
It’s not even justified, the nasty feeling in his stomach, the green snake of jealousy that slithers around his throat. It’s not like Steve is actually his. He’s just Eddie's friend. Eddie’s great, very straight, very much ladies’ man, friend. So Eddie keeps his mouth shut, grips his copy of The Thing a little tighter and pushes that feeling way deep down as the bell dings and Emily disappears through the door.
“Ha! Harrington’s back, baby!” Steve exclaims, pumping his fist in the air.
“What are we celebrating?” Eddie asks, even though he already knows the answer.
“Got a date this Friday.” Steve grins. He wiggles a piece of paper in between his fingers, probably with Emily’s phone number scribbled on it. 
“Nice.” Eddie says with a tight smile, hoping to God that Steve’s still too smitten to notice the way his body has gone all rigid. 
“Yeah, she’s pretty nice isn’t she?” Steve sighs happily. “Just hope she’s the one, y’know? I’m so tired of all those first dates, asking about each other’s siblings and favorite colors and I just… yeah, I just hope she’ll be the one.”
“Rooting for you, man.” Eddie says and oh my God, what kind of bro talk is that? Eddie wants to kick himself, but he just looks away instead, dropping the VHS on the counter.
“Thanks!” 
And he just looks so happy. His eyes glistening with hope, his lips (oh god his lips) turned into a victorious smile, his entire body just exuding confidence. Eddie really shouldn’t be mad at him, not when he looks like that.
Instead Eddie spends the entire drive back to the trailer park fuming and thinking of little miss ‘I-Hope-She’s-The-One’ Emily. Now, his momma raised him to be a gentleman but that vicious snake that made itself home in his stomach makes him want set fire to Emily’s stupidly perfect pleaded skirts. 
He’s so pissed off that he misses the exit that leads to Forest Hill, and instead he just keeps on driving. Past the luxurious villas, past the wide open fields, past the Leaving Hawkins sign. He doesn’t know where he’s going exactly, he just knows he has to leave. 
He only stops when it starts to turn dark outside and he spots a few warm lamps just on the side of the road. After closer inspection, it turns out to be a roadside bar, hidden away beneath some trees. Eddie’s stomach rumbles and he realizes that he hadn’t eaten since noon, so he parks the van and walks towards the bar, aptly named Off-Road.
Once Eddie steps inside, it’s like he’s suddenly back in Tennessee. He’s seeing men in flannel, shooting whiskey at the bar. Women in plaid dresses, dancing along to some honky-tonk song that’s playing on the radio. The wall decorated with all kinds of things that just scream Americana, old-faded photos of farms, a row of cowboy hats, an acoustic guitar on the wall.
He can’t believe what he's seeing, so he almost stumbles over his own feet as he makes his way to the bar.
“Hiya kid. What can I get ya?”
Eddie looks up to see a small, but buff woman standing behind the bar. Her silver hair is cropped short and pulled back by a red bandana and the tassels on her leather vest swivel as she cleans a glass with a dishrag.
“Uh, just a Coke, I guess?” Eddie says. “Do you also serve food?”
“Yeah, mac ’n cheese’s on the menu today.” The woman smiles, busying herself with finding a bottle of coke beneath the counter. “What’s your name kid? I’ve never seen you here before.”
“Eddie.”
“Nice to meet ya, Eddie. My name’s Pat.” Her voice is low and silky smooth, with the southern twang Eddie only hears when his uncle talks. “You from around here?”
“Hawkins.” Eddie nods. “But originally from Tennessee.”
Pat’s face lights up. “No way! Me too! Small world.”
“Yeah, it really is.” Eddie says. “Pat, can I ask… what is this place?”
“Oh this ol’ place?” Pat laughs. “This is just a lil’ home away from home. I’ve moved here for Tish, she’s the one in the green dress over there.” She waves towards the other side of the bar, where a woman with dark curls is scrubbing one of the tables. “But I’ve always missed home, y’know? So, we started this place a couple of years ago, 
“You and Tish are…” Eddie trails off, not sure if he’s put the right puzzle pieces together.
“Tish is my partner, yes.” Pat’s smile fades and gets replaced with a stern look. “You got a problem with that kid?”
“No!” Eddie says quickly, waving his hands in protest. “No, not at all. I’m… I’m also gay, y’know.”
“Tish!” Pat calls out, smiling when Tish looks up. “We got another one!”
“Stop adopting gay kids, Pat!” Tish calls back. “We’re running out of rooms!”
Eddie laughs. He’s gonna like it here.
-xxx-
After Pat’s absolutely heavenly mac ’n cheese, Eddie finds himself relax more and more and for the first time, he lets out his accent without any alcohol in his system. It’s not like anyone will make fun of him for it here, he thinks that Pat probably would encourage him to be as southern as he can be.
He chats with Pat and Tish and some of the other patrons as the time ticks by. Swapping stories about back down south, laughing at things the people here in Indiana just don’t understand, Eddie’s never felt more at home. 
Tish suddenly excuses herself as the bluegrass music on the speakers fades away. Eddie watches as she walks to the little podium in the far back of the bar and announces that the open mic night has begun and that anyone can join. An older man immediately jumps up and grabs the guitar off the wall and starts playing a song that Eddie vaguely remembers from back home.
“D’you play, kid?” Pat asks. “You look like you play.”
“Yeah, guitar.” Eddie replies. “Not like this though.”
“I figured.” Pat snorts. “You don’t really seem like the Willie Nelson type. But you’re welcome to step up and play us something.”
Eddie hesitates. Pat’s right, the music he normally plays doesn’t really fit in here. This is not the Hideout, this is not the place for screaming bloody murder about the injustices of the world and headbang while Gareth smashes the drums. 
Still, he’s feeling strangely drawn to the podium, especially when his mind provides him with a reminder why he drove away from Hawkins in the first place: Steve and perfect little Emily. And suddenly, he knows exactly what song to play. 
“Wish me luck.” Eddie grins at Pat as he stands up from his seat.
“Break a leg, Eddie.” Pat winks and shoots him an encouraging smile.
Eddie makes his way to the other side of the bar, patiently waiting until the older man finishes his song and whooping with excitement once he plays the final chord. The older man smiles at him, grateful, and hands the guitar over to him as Eddie sits down on the stool in front of the microphone.
“Uh, good evenin’ everyone.” Eddie says into the microphone. “It’s my first time here, actually and I, uh, I don’t even know if I can play this song, but let’s try, shall we?”
The room is eerily quiet as Eddie tries to remember the chords from so long ago, the chords his momma used to play on warm summer days in their backyard. 
“Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene… I’m beggin’ of ya, please don’t take my man.” 
The words feel foreign and yet strangely familiar in his mouth. It’s been so long since he heard this song, but the words just flow out of him easily
“He talks about you in his sleep and there’s nothing I can do to keep from cryin’ when he calls your name, Jolene.” Eddie’s voice is soft, softer than it’s ever been as he tries so hard to push away the images of Steve and Emily, happily together. “And I can easily understand how you could easily take my man. But you don’t know what he means to me, Jolene.”
It feels good, cathartic even, to sing this song. Maybe even better than screaming along to Metallica’s latest album. Not that he’ll ever admit that to anyone, but it’s the truth. There’s no other song right now that understands exactly what he’s going through, that says the things that he wants to say but can’t, not out loud anyway. 
“Please don’t take him even though you can…”
Eddie plays a few more chords until he finally lets the song fade out and the bar burst out into the applause. It’s not the biggest applause he’s ever had (apparently murder charges does wonders for forming a crowd at the Hideout), but it’s definitely in the top three of best post-performance feelings of his life. Maybe because these people just get him, maybe because he can just sing about his feelings for Steve out in the open and no one will judge him or ask any questions about it.
“You got some real talent, kid.” Pat nods as Eddie slides back onto his bar stool.“You’re welcome to come back and sing a little Dolly for us anytime.”
Eddie’s certain that he will.
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counterspelling · 7 months
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ihavemanyhusbands · 8 months
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The Black Kaiser's Nightmare
Duncan Vizla x Assassin!FemReader
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A/N: Shout out to beelmons and G for their endless support and help with my fics <3 :') where would I be without y'all?
Summary: You run into your long-time nemesis in the last place you ever expected, but things take a turn for the worst when you find yourself stuck with him during a snowstorm.
WC: 7.2k words
Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), enemies to lovers speedrun into the bed, mentions and depictions of violence, fighting, accidental assassination of a third party, some serious bickering, abundant cursing, rough sex (unprotected, don't do it at home!), choking, very light knifeplay, dirty talk, slight degradation mixed with some praise, rampant sexual tension, ooey gooey lovesick fools who are just SO SO STUBBORN, I think that's it but lmk if I missed anything!
You are responsible for your own media consumption!
----
Triple Oak, Montana.
It’d been a while since you’d last found yourself in such a quaint little town, especially in the middle of winter, but you supposed you’d been in way worse places. It was barely even on the map, which made it a convenient place to lay low. 
You didn’t have to worry about interacting with many people, and you sure as hell didn’t think you’d encounter anyone you knew. At least for the time being, you felt like you could relax just a little bit while you made plans.
In a few more days, you’d continue driving north and cross the Canadian border into Saskatchewan, where you were meant to carry out your next assignment. Your target was a skeevy arms dealer that had to move his whole operation out of Serbia and was now shacked up somewhere in the vast prairies. 
You’d been tracking his activity for some time, slowly narrowing down the list of possible locations. You’d also scored some insider information about a big upcoming transaction with a terrorist cell, and your goal was to get to him before the sale was finalized.
Successfully eliminating him would pay handsomely, and you were already planning on a months-long vacation in which you’d go fully off the radar. Preferably somewhere by the beach, where you didn’t feel the constant threat of frostbite.
You pulled into a small gas station — the only one to be found in a long stretch of the highway between the town and more secluded cabins  — and occupied one of the three measly pumps. There was only one other old pickup truck next to you, but the owner was nowhere to be seen. 
You blew hot air into your hands as you walked into the convenience store, eager for some coffee despite how shitty it was. 
“Hey Lou,” you said to the now familiar attendant, the little bell above the door ringing as you pushed in. “How’s it goin’?”
“Eh, slow, the usual,” he shrugged. “At least it’s decently warm in ‘ere. They say there’s gonna be a snowstorm over the weekend, starting tonight.”
“Shit, really?” You groaned, not only because you loathed the freezing temperatures, but because it would set you back by a few more days. 
“Yup, perfect time to cozy up with the missus back at home.”
You poured yourself a large cup of black coffee and snapped the lid on top. On the way back to the register, you grabbed a couple of magazines and a pack of Ding-Dongs to eat on the road.
“Well, lucky you,” you said, putting everything on the counter. “I gotta find ways to keep myself busy and warm in case I lose power.”
As you spoke, the door to the restroom opened behind you and a tall, rugged-looking man stepped out. His eyes instinctively flickered between the two of you, even if he couldn’t see your face. He lingered close to the back, trying not to bring attention to himself.
“You sure you’ll be good all by yourself out there?” Lou asked. “Enough supplies and all?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself,” you said, fishing cash out of your wallet. “Give me thirty on number two, also.”
“You got it, tough gal.”
You chuckled as he rang you up, glancing outside. The man behind you tensed, gripped with the dread that came with sudden recognition. Your voice was one he knew well, the very same one he’d heard all seventeen times he’d almost died. Well, eighteen if he counted that one brief altercation in Belfast.
And that laugh… How many times had it been directed at him? Taunting him, teasing him, driving him utterly mad. 
It was perhaps the only thing that stopped him from actually getting rid of you that one night you slept so soundly at some shoddy little hotel in Madrid.  He’d watched your chest's steady rise and fall from his spot in the darkness, and he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.
And now he’d most likely have to pay for the consequences of his mercy. 
Lou looked over your shoulder at him, but you didn’t immediately notice since you were absently flipping through one of the magazines. 
“Need anything else, Duncan?” He offered. “Pack of Winstons?”
Your skin prickled at these two very familiar details, but you didn’t move, still staring down at the magazine without actually reading. It was probably a mere coincidence. Really, there had to be dozens of Duncans in the world that just so happened to smoke Winstons.
But then, a very particular smell reached your nose — cheap cologne you didn’t know the name of, with strikingly bitter notes that had flooded your nostrils when his hands were tightly wrapped around your neck.
You glanced up at the fisheye mirror above the register… and there he fucking was, in all his deadly glory. The Black Kaiser himself.
You couldn’t help an amused huff, especially after hearing the faintest rustle of a knife being unsheathed under his coat.
“Are you sure you want to stab me with that, old man?” You said slowly over your shoulder. 
“Less impersonal than a gun. I owe you that much, don’t I?” he said with that deep, gravelly voice of his that always made a stubborn tingle form at the base of your spine.
Your hand just barely inched towards the hidden holster of your gun. “Oh, but you know I get a little crazy when the knives come out.”
Lou looked between the two of you, confusion and a tinge of fear in his eyes. 
“Uh, you two know each oth—”
Before he could finish his sentence, you whirled around and shot Duncan’s head. He ducked, but not before hurling a large knife at you in return. You dove out of the way, hearing it whizz right past your ear, and it sank into Lou’s forehead with a wet thud. His body slumped behind the counter, blood spraying over the stuff you’d intended to buy.
“Hey!” You yelled from your hiding spot. “I didn’t even get my change back!”
“You’re not gonna need it anymore,” he said gruffly, his voice not too far from you. “But before that… want to tell me what the fuck you’re doing here?”
“I could ask you the same,” you said, glancing up at the fisheye mirror once more. 
Unfortunately for you, you couldn’t get a very good look at where he was, but you couldn’t stay put. You slowly began to inch to the end of the aisle, staying low. “Let me guess, you missed me so much these last three years that you decided to hunt me down.”
He scoffed. “Three years was not nearly long enough time away from you.”
You dove around the corner to the next aisle, but he wasn’t there. You started pulling yourself forward, but suddenly you were flipped onto your back. You were about to whip your gun around, but it was harshly knocked out of your grasp, sliding against the linoleum. You thrashed against the weight that pressed down on you, but he pinned your hands down beside your head. 
“Who sent you?” He asked. 
“No one sent me, you paranoid geezer!” You sneered, driving your knee up full force right into his crotch. “Not everything’s about you.”
He growled at the pain, swaying to the side, his grip on your hands relaxing. You pushed him off of you, scrambling to get to your gun. Right as you managed to get a hold of it, he was on you again, pulling you back by the legs. You tried twisting around all the way, firing another shot semi-blindly. It narrowly missed his shoulder, shattering one of the windows.
“Can’t kill me without paralyzing me, eh, little Nightmare?” He taunted.
“Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”
You swallowed a scream as he stepped on the hand you held your weapon with, his heavy boot cracking your wrist. Your fingers splayed involuntarily due to the pain, and he bent down to take the gun. He kept it pointed at you as he removed his boot from your wrist and grabbed your arm.
“You’re coming with me,” he stated, starting to pull you up. 
“Like hell I am!” You spat, but you froze as you felt the barrel pressed against the back of your head.
“You were saying?”
He dragged you to your feet, leading you through the broken window, glass crunching under your boots. The wind seemed icier than it had been when you first arrived, which made you remember Lou’s warning about a snowstorm.
There was no way in hell you’d be stuck with him during it, so you’d have to find a way to weasel out of his grasp… and kill him in the process. 
He led you towards his truck, but you pretended to trip at the last second, bending down and retrieving a knife you had hidden in your boot. You stabbed backward, aiming for his femoral artery, but he moved and the knife stabbed into his thigh muscle instead.
“Motherfucker,” he hissed through clenched teeth, but he didn’t let go of you, tightening his grip on your arm. He fired off a warning shot into the air, which made you flinch a little. “Try me again and I won’t hesitate to put the next bullet through your thick fucking skull. I only have so much patience.”
He shoved you into the passenger seat of the truck, managing to tie you up with the seatbelt. Your bound hands were still slick with his blood, and you smiled triumphantly at him as he slid into the driver’s seat, immediately peeling out of the gas station.
“This is what gets you hard, isn’t it?” you said, raising an eyebrow at him. “You’re kind of a sick fuck, old man… but I didn’t expect any better from you.”
He said nothing, instead momentarily glaring at you. He grunted as he pulled the knife out of his leg, tossing it out of the window. You grumbled about him owing you a knife, but he continued to ignore you. He drove mostly in silence, winding through the icy roads as he gripped his wounded leg with one hand.
So far, it had been one of your tamest encounters. Really, it had all sort of felt like a game, but neither of you had won quite yet. After all, a game such as this could not be left unfinished.
Usually, the circumstances were vastly different. Your respective agencies had assigned you the same target a couple of times, and it always turned into a competition on who would finish the job first. As it turned out, the two of you were very competitive.
You’d left plenty of souvenirs on each other every single time you crossed paths – broken bones, an assortment of scars, and bruises as dark as the midnight sky. You wondered vaguely how much more damage you might make by the end of the day.
Why neither of you had succeeded in killing each other was… a bit of a mystery. Maybe he saw something in you that reminded him of himself, or perhaps he was growing soft with age. He would never admit it, but he’d had plenty of fun in this deadly dance with you so far, and it seemed a shame to let it come to its conclusion so soon. 
He’d have to do it though, after some thorough interrogation.
Soon enough, he pulled up a long gravel road hidden among the tall pine trees. In the clearing ahead, you saw what you supposed was his cabin. It was modestly sized and a little dilapidated, but at least it seemed to be sturdy enough to withstand harsh conditions.
“Nice place,” you said sarcastically. “I don’t suppose you have many visitors?”
“Rarely,” he said without looking at you. “I like the quiet. No one’s going to bother us here.”
“You mean no one’s gonna come running when you scream?”
He grunted, readjusting his position in his seat. You were mostly tied up at the arms so your legs had some room to move. Rookie mistake on his part, which you would definitely take advantage of. 
Before he could pull up in front of the actual cabin, you leaned back and kicked at the steering wheel. The truck swerved to the right, throwing you against the window. He tried to correct it on time, slamming on the brakes, but the snow made it careen right into a tree. 
It wasn’t a tremendous crash, but the windshield still broke, glass raining down on both of you. You were both disoriented for a moment from the whiplash, but then you began to untangle yourself from the seatbelt. You kicked at him when he tried to reach for you, but he managed to pin your legs down.
“Can’t you stay put for one fucking second!?” He growled, fully bracketing you between his sturdy legs as he freed you from the seatbelt. 
You panted heavily, trying to thrash beneath him, but he only pressed his legs tighter against your sides. A small, high-pitched whine escaped your lips as you felt the air being squeezed out of you, and you stopped moving. 
“Satis…fied?” You managed between gasps.
“Not nearly,” he said, grabbing a fistful of your hair as he pulled back. “Come here.”
He kept a firm grip on it as he dragged you out of the truck and towards the cabin. He wobbled a little with each step, his leg still bleeding some. 
“I warned you about the knives,” you said. “Even if you didn’t let me finish having fun.”
He chuckled sardonically. “No, you’re mistaken. The fun is only just beginning.”
He led you inside and locked the door behind him, making you sit down on a rickety chair. He bound your hands and feet with duct tape, wrapping some of it around your torso and the back of the chair for good measure. You decided not to struggle for the time being and instead ponder on your next move, covertly glancing at your surroundings for anything useful.
When Duncan was sure you wouldn’t be able to bolt, he went to grab something from an adjacent room, returning with his version of a first aid kit and a bottle of vodka. He looked at you from the corner of his eye as he undid his pants and lowered them to his knees.
“I didn’t realize it was that kind of fun,” you said, raising an eyebrow. 
Still, your gaze was drawn to his crotch first before trailing further down to the injury you’d caused. Rolling his eyes, he plopped down on the bed, which creaked a little under his weight. 
He took a long swig of vodka and then poured some on the bleeding gash, hissing through his teeth. Your expression of slight amusement didn’t change as he glanced at you once more, taking out a needle and thread.
“I have to be careful about infections, who knows where that knife of yours has been?” he said.
You merely watched as he began stitching himself up without so much as a grimace. His breathing was slow and steady as he concentrated, and you found yourself entranced by the precise movements of his hands.
An obscene thought about those hands wriggled into your mind, but you immediately pushed it away. It was all the more reason for you to get the hell out of there, especially now that his pants were down.
As he was finishing his stitches, you leaned forward onto your tiptoes and then threw yourself back as hard as you could. The chair broke apart under you, the force of the blow and the angle in which you fell spraining one of your wrists. The adrenaline made you barely register the pain, and you quickly wriggled out of the tape wrapped around you.
You pulled a Swiss army knife out of your boot and hastily sawed off the tape binding your ankles. He swore as you stood, lifting your arms and slamming them down to free your hands. You stumbled towards the front door and yanked it open.
Outside, the wind howled ferociously and a thick flurry of snow limited your vision of your surroundings. You felt the unforgiving cold slicing through you as you hesitated, knowing deep down that your chances of survival were very slim. 
Still, you were reckless enough to try and brave it. You started towards the steps when you were yanked back once more, your back pinned against the wall and Duncan’s hand around your throat.
“You just don’t fucking learn, do you?” He growled. 
“You only caught me because I hesitated, old man.”
His grip tightened a little in warning. “Didn’t anybody teach you never to hesitate?”
“There is a very fine line between foolishness and courage, you know…” The corners of your mouth twitched, an amused gleam in your eye. “I wonder how often you cross from one side to the other.”
He clenched his teeth and an absolutely devious, cheshire cat grin spread across your face. The mere sight of it made his blood boil with both rage and arousal, and he felt it flowing southward. Your back instinctually arched towards him, as if you could somehow sense the sudden influx of violent desire, and became infected by it.
You stared at each other for a charged moment before he suddenly fell upon you, intent on devouring you. His lips clashed with yours in a fierce kiss and you buried your fingers in his hair, tugging at it as you retaliated.
You bit his lower lip hard, making him groan into your mouth. You used this opportunity to slide your tongue against his, and he moved the hand that had been around your neck toward your jaw. Without thinking, you pressed harder against him, your fingers about to slide under the hem of his sweater.
He clasped your wrist to stop you, assuming you were reaching for some hidden weapon. You whimpered slightly, painfully reminded that it was in fact sprained. He pulled back to look at you, both of you panting heavily and still clutching each other tightly. 
“I fear that line was blurred a long time ago, and I suspect it’s the same case with you,” He murmured. 
His words broke through your daze and you immediately pushed him away from you, cradling your injured hand against your chest. A maelstrom of emotions roiled inside of you, predominantly confusion and a worrisome throb between your legs. 
“And what now?” You asked, glancing out of the window. “It’s clear neither of us are going anywhere any time soon.”
“Now we weather the storm,” he said, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“No, seriously.”
“I am being serious.”
You huffed in annoyance, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I… can’t believe I’m asking this right now but, maybe we can… put the killing each other thing on hold for a few days?”
“So you were coming for me.”
“No! I wasn’t!” You threw your hands up exasperatedly. “Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but I have work further up north. This was just a pit stop.”
He assessed you for a moment, trying to find any clues that you were lying. You stood your ground, keeping your eyes on his face. He sniffed, leaning against the wall to get his weight off his injured leg. 
“I’m fine with a temporary truce, but only if we both keep our weapons in plain sight at all times.”
“I am a weapon myself, big boy.”
“So am I. I suppose we’ll have to keep an eye on each other as well, then.”
“Fine,” you huffed, stomping to the couch and pulling it over to the kitchen. “I’ll stay on this side of the cabin, you can stay on the other side.”
“What!? This is my house!” He scoffed.
“Yeah, well, I’m being generous by letting you keep your bed. Not to mention, your life.”
He rolled his eyes, limping back over to his bed. “Whatever you say. Now, can I please fix my stitches in peace for one fucking second?”
———————
There was no sleep for the entirety of the first night. 
The cabin creaked and groaned, straining against the disastrously strong wind. Your breaths fogged up in the air as you shivered under the thin blanket Duncan had given you. The cold seemed to seep into your very bones as if punishing you for your decisions. To distract yourself from the chill, you kept an eye on his prone form across the room, knowing well he wasn’t sleeping either. 
When dawn broke, a thin grayish light filtered into the room. The storm raged on and all you wanted to do was doze off, but you were still on edge. You clenched your jaw to keep your teeth from chattering, irritated by a headache. Your mood didn’t get any better when Duncan rose from his bed, crossing towards the kitchen.
“What do you think you’re doing?” You inquired, not moving an inch.
He stopped in his tracks. “I’m hungry. Don’t you want to eat?” 
Your stomach growled in answer and he lifted an eyebrow in slight amusement. You unwillingly threw the blanket off of you, getting up with an annoyed grunt. 
“I’ll give you the food. Let’s see what you’ve got,” you said, rummaging through the cabinets.
“I could just show you…”
“No, stay on your side. Even better, why don’t you go sit back down on your bed?”
He followed orders, not really wanting to start quarreling with you so early in the morning. You finally found some oatmeal packets in one of the cupboards, and you took out a few and poured them into a pot along with some water. You left it to boil over the stove top, crossing your arms over your chest and turning to face him.
“How’s your leg doing, anyway?” You asked. 
“Fine. Why do you care?”
“I really don’t.”
He chuckled. “Good thing you’re a better assassin than you are a liar.”
You sighed deeply. “Well, it is your house, I should at least have some manners.”
He scoffed, still amused. “We are way past manners. Our only courtesy to each other would be a painless death.”
“Oh, really? Painless?” You arched an eyebrow. “Did you forget Lisbon? And that grenade launcher you stole?”
“Okay, well, I wasn’t technically aiming at you. You just happened to be in the way,” He argued. “And it’s not like you haven’t given me the same sort of treatment…”
You shrugged one shoulder. “It’s only fair.”
The two of you lapsed into silence as you turned your attention back to the pot. Once the oatmeal was ready, you spooned it into two bowls and walked to the invisible line that divided the cabin in two.
He got up and met you there, reaching slowly for his bowl so as not to seem threatening. Not that you were viewing him that way, anyway. At least not in the clearly exhausted state he was in. 
“Careful, it’s hot,” you said. “Need me to blow on it first?”
He raised an eyebrow at you, resisting the lure of your impish grin. He figured it was perhaps the more masochistic part of him that made him so drawn to you. Always pushing him, testing him, keeping him on the edge. He would never admit it to himself — much less to you — but it made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t for a really long time.
He muttered a quick thank you before heading back to his side of the room, plopping down on the bed and immediately digging in. If he burned his mouth, he showed no indication of it, but you still huffed in amusement. 
When he was done, he said nothing as he lied down, his back to you once again. A little confused and wary, you watched him as you slowly ate. Soon enough, his breath evened out into a steady rhythm, and you assumed he’d fallen asleep.
You glanced over at the dining table, where the two of you had laid out all your weapons, and considered them for a long moment. 
It seemed too easy to have such a window of opportunity. Normally, you’d have jumped at any such chance, but once more, you hesitated. Not out of any sort of newfound benevolence, but something deeper than that. Something that had been gnawing at you since the previous night.
In the end, you opted not to do anything. Surely, it was bound to be a mistake to not have killed him at that moment. But that would be a problem for another day, perhaps when the storm was over. 
You sat down on the floor by the foot of the couch, back resting against the frame. Sleep deprivation was starting to hit you as well, and you knew that if you were to lay down you would certainly fall asleep. Instead, your eyes focused on the suspiciously peaceful sight of Duncan sleeping. 
The longer you stared, the blurrier the lines seemed to get. Literally. His broad form was smudged into a single sphere, and without much thought about it, everything suddenly went black. 
Until… Shit. 
How long were you asleep?
It had been long since you’d last awakened to a man in front of you, let alone holding a knife to your face. The blade shone in your half-open eyes, reflecting the setting sun outside the window. You must have been unconscious for over two hours.  Stupid, so very stupid.
You blinked the haze of sleep out of your eyes and followed the glint to his fingers, his forearm, up his broad chest and shoulders, until it finally landed on his face. 
 “So, the game ends at last, huh?” you muttered, your gaze not wavering from his.
“Could’ve ended long ago, but it didn’t,” he said, once again looking every bit the coldhearted killer he was. You could still see, however, the presence of doubt in his dark eyes. “Why didn’t you kill me?” 
“I knew you weren’t actually sleeping…”
“Even so,” he pressed, straightening to his full, imposing height. “You didn’t even try. Why?”
You blinked, not really having an answer, not one that would satisfy him at least. What's more, you had a set of questions of your own, ones that would likely also have no answer. 
The words slipped before you could even think about them. “Why did you kiss me?” 
Silence hung between you like a heavy drape. You were cornered in more than one sense. Windows for precaution and escape had long since closed, maybe even since the moment you ran into him in that little gas station. And through hardships, you learned that if there’s no way back, the only way is forward. 
The wound in his thigh didn’t seem to bother him as much anymore, so there was no way you could outrun him. You looked down to avoid his scrutiny and he used the back of his knife to force your chin back up. 
He didn’t speak, but his eyes bore into yours, almost as if seeing through them into parts of you that were foreign even to yourself. The flat part of the blade trailed up to your cheek in what could be interpreted as a caress. 
Your hand unconsciously intended to return the favor, running up his knee to his thigh, extra cautious around his wound. You noticed a change of pattern in his breathing, and so you looked down only to find one of the answers you sought — the print of his hardened cock cruelly imprisoned within his pants. 
“Oh,” you breathed, surprised. Then again, when the reality of what you were looking at fully sank in. “Oh.”
Your hand moved on its own accord again, slowly slipping further up his thigh. Again, he tightly grabbed your wrist before your fingers reached their target, and you hissed in pain. He immediately let go, withdrawing the knife as well.
“Are you hurt?” He asked. 
“A sprained wrist isn’t gonna kill me,” you said, keeping your hand on his leg to drive your point across. “Now that, on the other hand, has to be taken care of.”
“Taken care of, huh?” He rasped, his voice hoarse with want and self-directed anger because of it. 
He raked a hand through your hair, gathering it in his first and pulling your head towards his crotch. He pressed your cheek against his bulge, his hips bucking ever so slightly. 
“And how do you suppose that’s gonna happen?” He added.
“I have a few ideas if you’re open to them,” you panted, ignited in a way that almost fully consumed you. 
His eyes searched your face for a moment, drinking you in as he searched for any indications of doubt, and then he whispered, “Are you sure?” 
This time you didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
He saw the feverish gleam of hunger in your eyes as he pulled away and unbuckled his belt, pushing down his pants. The outline of his cock was even more prominent through his briefs and you couldn’t help a sharp intake of breath at the sheer size of him. He was still holding onto your hair, stepping closer and effectively cornering you against the couch. 
You boldly started to reach for the hem of his briefs, but he said, “No. I want you to use your teeth.”
“Getting a little bold there, old man,” you said with a smirk, keeping your eyes on him as you dipped your head to plant a soft kiss on his thigh, right by his stitches. 
He winced slightly at the contact, but you could see his cock throb against the fabric covering it.  Your smirk only widened, “But I gotta admit I’m pretty impressed so far. Didn’t even have to slip a blue pill in your oatmeal.”
He gripped your jaw, clicking his tongue in disappointment. “I think you need more proof, actually. Allow me.”
With his free hand, he roughly tugged down his briefs and his cock finally sprang free — so thick and long and just fucking perfect — hitting his lower abdomen. The head of it glistened with precum, which he spread with his thumb. You shifted in your seat, biting your lip as saliva flooded your mouth.
“Open,” he ordered.
You immediately complied, wondering when the fuck you’d gotten so obedient. He gripped the base of it and fed it into your mouth slowly. You wrapped your lips around it, feeling it slide smoothly against your tongue. 
A small groan escaped him, his head tipped back at the first rush of pleasure. You hummed a little in response and he felt the vibration of the sound against his shaft. His hips began to move again, shuttling his length deeper into your mouth, until you could feel the head of it reach your throat.
He let you steady yourself by placing your hands on his legs, his hand returning to the back of your head as it bobbed up and down. Then suddenly, when you’d reached the very base, he kept your head down. Your nose was against his pelvis, your deep, even breaths fanning against the fine hair that curled there. 
Your nails dug into the flesh of his legs as you staved off your gag reflex as best as you could. Still, you couldn’t help but squirm a little, already pretty slick between your thighs.
 He cursed under his breath as he let you come up for air, an obscene string of saliva connecting your lips to the tip of his cock.
"If I knew you were such a cock drunk slut, I would have dropped my pants much earlier just to shut you up,” he said with a smug grin, looking down at you.
“More bold words from someone who’s only gonna last this round. I’m gonna have to take care of myself after you’re done,” you taunted lightly, making him pull at your hair.
You kept eye contact with him as you stuck your tongue out and traced it over a large vein on the underside of his shaft. You left a trail of wet, sloppy kisses as you made your way back to the tip, and he lightly slapped it against your tongue a couple of times before pushing your head back down on it. His balls tightened momentarily as he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, and you knew he was enjoying himself much more than he let on.
"Well, if it's gonna be only one, might as well make good use of it, don't you think?" He said, pulling you off of him and making you stand up.
His lips were on yours in the next moment, just as desperate and hungry as the first kiss. He kicked his pants off the rest of the way and yanked your sweater off along with your thermal undershirt. He reached for your pants, but you slapped his hand away, extricating yourself from his lips to undo them yourself.
As soon as they were off, he turned you around and bent you over the back of the couch. There was a wet spot in your underwear that made him smirk, but he also couldn’t deny the way his cock throbbed at the sight.
“This is in the way…” he grunted, tugging at your bra strap.
Before you even registered what was happening, he brought the knife back out and sawed the bra off of you. You let out a gasp that was both surprised and indignant as he proceeded to rip your panties off with his bare hands, tossing the scraps of fabric aside.
“Hey! Those are the only ones I have here!” You huffed, glaring at him over your shoulder. “Unless you have a secret stash of women’s underwear, you seriously owe me.”
He nudged your knees apart with his leg. “I don’t think you’re going to need them while you’re here. You were already ruining them yourself, anyway.”
Before you could retort, you felt him push inside of you slowly, grabbing your hips as he let out a low moan. 
“Fuck…” you sighed without thinking, leaning your elbows against the back of the couch. 
“Yeah? Does that feel good?” He cooed condescendingly.
“In your drea–”
His hips snapped into yours harshly, interrupting you. You felt the heat of him against your back as he leaned over you, his breath fanning across the side of your face. 
“If I were you, I’d be careful about lying again. I might just stop and leave you all drenched like this, with your hands tied behind your back so you couldn’t touch yourself.”
He felt you clench around him at that and his smirk turned victorious. He kissed and sucked at your shoulder and neck, making sure to leave plenty of marks. His thrusts were hard and deep at first, hips barely pulling back as his weight pinned you down.
You let out a sound that was a strange mix between a whimper and a gasp as he bit into the tender flesh of your shoulder, hard enough to leave teeth marks behind. The jolt of pain mixed with pleasure – not to mention the slight shame that came with the feeling of your arousal dripping down your inner thighs – only fueled the fire that was steadily growing within you. 
Then, a little mindlessly, you pleaded, “Harder. Fuck me harder.”
He straightened immediately, readjusting himself to start pounding into you at a nearly punishing pace. You bit your bottom lip to try and keep quiet, but wanton sounds of pleasure escaped your throat despite your efforts. He was hitting a spot that made your head spin, tugging you backward onto his cock to meet his thrusts.
The lewd sound of flesh slapping together, along with your collective pants and groans, filled the room. He reached forward to grab your throat again, keeping you semi-upright as he continued to take you. In truth, he was focusing hard to stave off his release. He had plenty of stamina for his age, but the way your cunt took him so perfectly, as if molded just for him, was enough to have his balls tightening again. 
But he would never hear the end of it. 
Your legs began to shake a little as the coil in your belly tightened, threatening to snap. “I-I think I’m gonna cum, fuck…”
“Not yet,” he said firmly, immediately stopping his motions. 
You cursed him under your breath, beyond frustrated. You pushed your hips back, intent on fucking yourself on him, but his firm grip stopped you. He landed a firm smack on your ass, making you involuntarily clench around him. He hissed, feeling the strong urge to give in and continue fucking you until you came all over his cock, but he kept his composure. He wanted to keep indulging you for as long as he could, still not fully believing he wasn’t just having a dirty dream.
“Do that again and I’ll rip your fucking head off,” you snarled as he pulled out, grabbing your arm and leading you toward the bed.
“I told you I was going to make it count.”
He tossed you onto your back on the bed, crawling on top of you and pushing your knees up to your shoulders. He positioned himself between your thighs and sank back into your cunt with no further preambles, his strong body covering yours once more.
His hands cradled your head as he began to move again, reaching impossibly deeper than before. You clawed at his biceps as he ground his pelvis against you, making your brain practically short-circuit.
“There we go… See? I knew you could take more,” he said, kissing the corner of your lips. “Are you scared I'll pull out again? You keep sucking me back in.”
Too dazed to form words, your lips chased his so he would kiss you properly. Your tongue trailed over his upper lip enticingly, and he opened his mouth so his tongue could meet yours. This kiss was deeper, less frantic, finally giving yourselves a chance to taste each other properly. 
Soon you were clenching around him again, too distracted by your mounting pleasure to continue kissing him properly. 
“Fuck, don’t stop, Duncan. Please, please, please, just like that,” you begged desperately, moaning as he moved to kiss your jaw. 
“Yeah? You want me to fill you up, too?” He rasped against your skin. “Claim this needy cunt all for myself?”
You nodded eagerly, face contorting with ecstasy as you held onto him for dear life. Your muscles seized up as your climax washed over you, overpowering your senses. His hips stuttered as you cried out, your hot flesh molding into his like the deepest embrace. 
He kissed you again as he felt his own release rippling over him, groaning into your mouth as he shuddered, unable to hold himself back any longer. He thrusted hard a few more times before remaining fully inside of you, and you felt heat flooding your cunt. 
A whimper of slight overstimulation escaped you, but he soothed you with a whispered praise in your ear. You couldn’t help but smile beatifically, almost purring in content as he kept his cum inside of you.
As you both rode out your highs, your kisses turned lazy, almost tender, and even the way he held you felt different. Somehow, in some deep recess of your mind, it seemed right… and that scared you a little.
Still, you tried not to let it get to you then. Not as he leaned his sweaty forehead against yours, still panting, and said, “I think I tore my stitches.”
You chuckled. “You should probably take care of that, then.”
“In a minute…”
He disentangled himself from you, pulling out and sliding his body down between your legs. You tried to draw your thighs together, but he stopped you, planting a kiss on your mound.
He spread your lips with two fingers so he could see his cum trickling out of you, but then he pushed it back in with those same fingers, making your hips jerk slightly.
“T-this was a one time thing, you know,” you breathed, trying to sound firm. 
He barely glanced up at you, seemingly unbothered. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
But only an hour or so later, you found yourself riding him on the couch. Then, he took you against the wall, over the kitchen counter, off the edge of the bed, and subsequently on the floor. He seemed intent on making sure you never questioned his endurance ever again.
Even throughout the night, you slept sporadically, pawing at each other whenever you stirred. Not many words were exchanged during this time, but that didn’t mean your mouths weren’t put to good use. As usual, you both wound up with bruises, bite marks, and scratches all over each other, but the intention behind them couldn’t be any more different.
The storm died sometime during the night, but instead of fleeing right away, you let him hold you until dawn broke. There were too many new questions floating about in your head, but you weren’t really sure you wanted the answer to any of them for the time being. Perhaps it was simply best to let what happened remain in the past and simply move on.
As quietly as you could, you got up from the bed, cleaned yourself up, and dressed. You sheathed your weapons, avoiding looking at him as you prepared to leave. When your hand was on the doorknob, his voice stopped you.
“You didn’t kill me again,” he said. “Should I take that as an indication that you like me?”
You looked over at him, frowning. “Absolutely not. I’m serious, this was the last time it’ll ever happen.”
“I’m not sure I can trust your word.”
You huffed, irritated. “Well, you’ll have to. I intend to keep it.”
You yanked the door open, about to stomp outside, but you heard the creak of the bed as he sat up. 
“You know, I’m going to be in Portofino in a few months. I heard it’s beautiful there in the summer, and I figured I could use a vacation.”
“Are you trying to make yourself an easy target?”
“...Maybe.”
“And if I decide not to hunt you down?”
He raised an eyebrow. “If?”
You grimaced. “All I’m saying is don’t get your hopes up. I’m a very busy gal, I don’t have time to play cat and mouse with you.”
“And who’s who in that analogy, hm?”
You shook your head, rolling your eyes. “Goodbye, Duncan. Truce is over, do you hear me?”
“I’ll see you in Portofino. Make sure you bring sunscreen.”
The door slammed shut behind you. 
---——-
Part 2 out now!
424 notes · View notes
lbxbxx · 2 months
Text
Cockpit 5 | knj
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Pair: Namjoon x reader
Summary: Namjoon goes through a rough time while getting a divorce, meeting you at the club two weeks in a row when attraction becomes unreal.
Rating: +18 mature content, Smut, divorce, fatherhood.
Previous | Next
“Who’s Jay?” You ask him, out of breath, your motion slowly coming to an end.
Namjoon feels every pore on his skin excrete cold sweat, he even shivers and he feels cold for a second at the mention of his son, his body stiffens and for a split second he wants to stop everything and just leave. He thinks he got caught.
Got caught? He’s not even sure it’s the right term. But guilt washes through his entire body, his son would be very disappointed if he found out his father is cheating. But no, the man wants all his rights as a husband and she didn’t give him any, she’s totally not available for him. He needs to love and be loved, and to touch and be touched by someone.
Not that Namjoon is seeking a relationship or love or anything. But he cannot keep himself from being with other women anymore, when the women he calls his wife isn’t there for him.
He does go out with his co workers to clubs or bars or even hang out every now and then, and people are not blind. He does get hit on by men and women almost every time. But he could never tell someone to come over to his house when there’s a toddler and a wife there. Even when they weren’t home, he could never tell someone to come over. He just wouldn’t do it.
He’s a smart man but isn’t sane anymore. Frustration wore him out.
And the moment he asked for your number back in the club, it took him a lot of courage to do so. He never saved female contacts on his phone other than family and co workers, and that alone made him scold his self endless that night. Did he really do that?
He knows that keeping your number on his phone is going to be opening the gates of hell, he tried keeping himself from texting you or calling you, but the moment he rested his head on his pillow the next day after a very long argument that his son ended up hearing and acting really agitated upon, he grabbed his phone and texted you, he needed to get his mind out of his miserable life.
And Jay is this man’s weakness, it shatters his heart into pieces when he sees his son crying and covering his ears at the sound of them fighting, those nights usually end up with Jay having a very high fever and he doesn’t get good sleep. Namjoon always tried so hard to stifle their fights and compromise in front of his son, and just laugh it out. But it’s his wife that turns everything into a dramatic scene. That night he lost his mind and was very loud with her, and it was over a very stupid reason that was totally not worth his son hearing.
He snaps himself out of his thoughts and looks at you sitting over him, the necklace in your hand, with a very hazy look on your face. You deserve to know the truth. The man you spent the night with is involved in a miserable marriage.
Namjoon is saved by the bell when his phone rings, he reaches for the night stand and grabs his phone, of course he slept out of the house without letting his wife know, he has 6 missed calls from her, the last one a couple hours ago. But the call he’s getting now is from work.
“Shit- I gotta take this, I’m sorry.” He slips from underneath you and gets off of bed, collecting his clothes in his hands. “Hello?”
Your shoulders sulk in disappointment, and you just lay down flat on your bed and look at him getting dressed. You were hoping for more but it looks like you’re not going to get any. You shrug it off, Hoseok should be here any minute and Namjoon has to leave before he sees him.
“Sure, I’ll be there in no time.” Namjoon looks at you laying in bed and smirks. “Sure, Bye.” He hangs up and puts his phone down, slowly approaches you and hovers his lips over yours, his nose hitting yours and you could feel his breath on your face, his fingertips run on your forearm slowly before he whispers. “If I knew I’d get called by work, I would have set an alarm just to wake up early and fuck you.”
You’re clenching again and it’s around nothing, now you get greedy and you want him even more, you push forward to end the space between you and kiss him, his body moving back a little from the harshness of your kiss, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him towards you, his hands lands on your hips and he moves down to your neck, kissing and sucking on a few spots which end up leaving a small red spot on your neck.
“I wish I could stay for a little longer but I have to go.” He leans his forehead against yours, he wishes he could cancel work and just be with you for longer, but they really need him. You end up nodding and sitting up, he rushes to get into his clothes before he looks at you one last time near your apartment door.
“I’ll see you later, Y/N.” He smiles, his dimple now looking more tempting than ever, your intrusive thoughts work and your finger reaches to poke his dimple and kiss it softly, he bites on his bottom lip and it’s hardly noticeable, but he’s blushing.
You panic when you hear the pass code to your door being clicked, only Hoseok knows your pass code and at this exact moment you regret giving it to him. You take a few steps away from Namjoon and wait for Hoseok to open the door.
You’re caught way sooner than you thought you would be.
Hoseok finally opens the door, he takes his shoes off before looking up at you, he’s startled that he actually trips in his steps when he walks in. “Shit. Hi.” And the social butterfly smiles at Namjoon before he looks at you with a wide grin. You clench on your teeth and give him a sign to shut up subtly without Namjoon noticing.
Namjoon awkwardly greets back and he shifts in his spot, he’s a little uncomfortable that he actually stands behind you, you find it cute but you’re not very comfortable yourself too. “Hobi, this is—“
“Namjoon, yeah I remember you.” Hoseok reaches his hands out to give Namjoon a handshake, and you clench on your teeth again, embarrassed at Hoseok’s attempt to make the man less uncomfortable, but little does he know, it’s makes Namjoon way more uncomfortable.
“Namjoon, this is Hoseok, my best friend.” You introduce, Namjoon handshakes Hoseok and looks at you. “I really should get going.”
“Hobi, you can take the food to the kitchen, thank you.” You look at Hoseok and point your head towards the kitchen, signaling him to leave you two alone, he looks at both of you one last time before he smiles. “Lovely to see you again Namjoon.” Then disappears into the kitchen, or at least you think so. He’s hiding behind the wall listening to your conversation.
“I’m sorry.” You look at Namjoon. “I didn’t think he’d be here early.”
He shakes his head and walks closer to you, kissing your cheek softly which you makes you freeze in your spot, “It’s totally okay, thanks for letting me stay the night, I really had fun.”
“I had fun too.” You nod, “I’ll see you later.” He finally waves goodbye and leaves, you lock the door behind him and rush to the kitchen, Hoseok looks up at you and grins before taking his suit jacket off. “Look at you.”
“Before you say anything.” You put your palm up in the air. “If this goes out to anyone, I will murder you Jung Hoseok.” And that doesn’t even make him stop laughing, he eyes you from head to toe and crosses his arms.
You roll your eyes at him before pulling a chair and taking a seat, you unpack the food and start eating like you’ve never eaten before, you were starving. Hoseok’s eyes on you don’t go unnoticed but you decide to ignore it, he’s going to give you a hard time anyway, so you just decide to enjoy your food.
“How was it?” He asks, you totally ignore him and get up to put coffee pods into your coffee machine, you get yourself a cup and sit back down to devour your breakfast.
“On a scale from one to ten.” He tries again, you look at him and with a full mouth you say “Nine.” Which makes him go crazy, he looks at you dead in the eye and says: “That good?”
You shrug, stuffing more food in your mouth, you know he’s going to pull words out of your mouth in one way or another, so you just tell him in full surrender.
Hoseok is respectful though, he got what he wanted so he nods and gets up, not asking any more questions at all, he takes off his shirt and turns on the air conditioning. “I’m just glad you finally got laid.” Before he starts working on your pantry shelves.
Very respectful.
-
Hoseok is tackling your pantry shelves, helping you change into the screws he got you earlier. The weather is extremely hot that you end up walking around your house in a pair of shorts and a sports bra. You have a tub of ice cream on your lap and your hair is up in a bun. You had enough with the weather.
“We should totally go swimming like we did last summer.” Hoseok suggests before taking a few bites from the tub in your lap, you immediately refuse his suggestion to which he pouts.
“We said we were going alone but all of you ended up bringing a plus one and I was alone for the entire night.” You recall your last trip.
It was August of last year when all of you decided to rent out a villa with a swimming pool and a hot tub, you made a pact that was suggested by Seokjin that it’s only your group, no girlfriends nor boyfriends. Yoongi was excluded of course since all of you liked Mia and wanted her to come. They were newly engaged.
You and Hoseok took care of renting the place and everyone else took care of foods and drinks and everything else you may need. It started with Taehyung who just got into a relationship with his now girlfriend and he told her to come, which first you were okay with but then they all brought girls along. Even Hoseok.
They’re not even still with the girls they brought that day except for Taehyung and Yoongi.
You remember being in the swimming pool, planning out teams to play volleyball, they all wanted to be in the same team with their partners and you were the extra player that kept switching teams. It was very pathetic that you swore you won’t do it again.
“Come on, I promise I won’t do it again.” Hoseok adores those kinds of activities, so he tries his best to convince you. You roll your eyes “If you don’t others will.”
“Okay maybe they will, but I promise I’ll hang out with you the entire night.” He sounds genuine, you hate saying no to this man but you’re still not convinced.
Your door bell rings and you know it’s Jimin since he called Hoseok and found out he was at your place, he wanted to hang out too. You get up on your feet and put the tub of ice cream down. “I’ll think about it.”
You open the door for Jimin who’s carrying a bunch of bags, he never showed up with his hands empty, even if he got you the simplest thing ever like a bag of chips or a six pack of drinks. He would even show up with board games and puzzles for the two of you to work on. He adores you so much and so do you, the two of you were enemies first when you used to live in the same building, he would leave trash near your door by mistake and you would scold him for it.
You started apartment haunting immediately after a big fight, you told the owner that you wanted him to get evicted but no one agreed with you, they all loved Jimin which made you cringe. This terrible human being? Really?
And when you found the apartment you’re currently in is when the two of you suddenly click and become closer than ever. You found it really adorable when he absolutely refused helping you move your furniture, he didn’t want you to move out.
“I got you your favorite seaweed chips.” He takes off his shoes and takes the bags to the kitchen. “Hi hyung. I got us drinks to make cocktails too.”
You look through the bags. Seaweed chips, gummy candy, tequila, lemons, a six pack of beer and a bath and body works candle which makes you laugh.
He comes from behind you and kisses your cheek. “You liked the smell of it when you came over to my place, I thought you’d like one.” You hug him closer and start unloading the bags. “You didn’t have to.”
-
Hoseok and Jimin are now working on your shelves while you have your ice cream around the kitchen table, your phone buzzes a text message, you want to ignore it first thinking it was work telling you to come over for the night, but you usually answer your texts quick, so you grab your phone and unlock it.
It’s Namjoon, he sent a photo of him in his uniform, taken through a bathroom mirror with a carry on bag next to him. He looks clean, his sunglasses lifted to the top of head. He looks all big and attractive, the sleeve from his shirt tight on his biceps and his pants hugging his thighs perfectly. With a smile on his face showing the dimple you kissed this morning.
Your stomach is twisting, you cross your legs hoping for that throbbing feeling in your panties disappears, but who are you kidding?
“I’m flying to Jeju in an hour :*”
Are you..
Are you smiling at your phone screen?
Grow the fuck up.
You know the reason behind his text is not to inform you. This man knows he looks like a fine snack and he sent you a picture just to rub it in your face. Who are you to complain? You like it.
Your fingers hover over the screen and you dare to send him a risky text.
“do you need company? Hehehe”
You put your phone down and cringe at your text, but you know men are easy to seduce so you just went ahead. Hoseok and Jimin too occupied arguing which size of screws they should use on the next shelf.
Your phone rings in a text again and you check it immediately.
“wanna join the mile high club with me?”
“I’m more than glad to have your company.”
The heat between your legs is increasing and it’s not because of the hot weather, Kim Namjoon has you wipped and drooling all over him. You secretly want to suck his big dick in the cockpit behind the locked door.
“I think this should be okay.” Hoseok puts his palms on the shelves and presses down testing the weight. “Do you want me to reload them?”
You’re not even listening because your brain is trying to function to get an answer to Namjoon’s texts, Jimin squints his eyes and looks at your neck, noticing a few dark spots before he looks at Hoseok, nudging him with his fingers. The older looks back at Jimin in confusion.
“i’m not sure if your passengers want to hear you while your dick is getting sucked.”
You’re really surprising yourself with your texts, Namjoon on the other side is dragging his carry on and heading to the gate, his phone in his other hand and he’s texting you back with a smirk on his face.
“but they will love hearing you get fucked until you pass out.”
“or until you can’t walk.”
“up to you.”
Fuck his work that made him leave early and fuck you for not keeping your hands to yourself. Get your shit together.
Jimin points at his neck while looking at Hoseok, before looking at you, Hoseok nods and turns so their backs face you and mouths Jimin. “She doesn’t want to talk about it.” And Jimin nods with a smirk.
You put your phone down and lock the screen, you know if you keep talking to Namjoon it’s going to end up with you sending nudes to try and tease him while he’s at work, because you already did it before with a stranger, and with Namjoon? You’d do it all over again.
“Are you done with the shelves?” You get up, your panties aren’t really comfortable and they’re wet. So you try your best to hide a cringe.
“Yeah, I already asked you if you wanted me to reload them.” Hoseok discards the old screws into the bin. You take a last look on the shelves and nod. “It’s okay Hobi I’ll do it, thanks for helping me.”
“Did you get laid?” Jimin spits out and your body freezes, did Hoseok tell him or did he see something? You were careful enough to hide Namjoon’s used towel and toothbrush, you even changed the garbage bags that had used condoms inside, you made sure to open the windows to let out the smell of cigarettes.
“What are you talking about?” You try to sound nonchalant while you’re reloading your shelves, but you were too easy to read. “I must be seeing things, but you look different and your neck-“
“Yeah you’re seeing things.” Hoseok quickly answers and you feel him moving his hands behind you, you look at Jimin and his eyes are on Hoseok, before he nods and helps you with your pantry. “Yeah, you’re right.”
You look back at Hoseok who gives you a nervous smile. You roll your eyes and exhale. “What did you tell him?”
“He found out on his own.” He exclaims. “You’re being too obvious.”
“Do I have it written on my face?” You mirror his tone and look at Jimin. He shrugs and says. “In mine and Hobi’s defense, you have spots on your neck, they’re not that obvious but they look fresh.”
Your face flushes red and you rush to your microwave to see your reflection in it, it’s hardly noticeable. “I don’t see it.”
“Who was it?” Jimin asks, a look of mere panic shows on his face when he continues. “Please don’t tell me Jungkook convinced you.”
Well, Jungkook tried to get you into sleeping with him multiple times, and he’s still trying but it’s nearly impossible.
“I’m not surprised you think it’s Jungkook.” You cringe. “And no, It’s not him.”
“Is it someone from work?” Jimin continues with his parade of questions, have they always been this curious? “Is it someone we know?”
“I don’t feel comfortable talking about this.” You try so hard to avoid eye contact, “It’s not someone from work.”
Jimin lifts an eyebrow and looks at Hoseok, then back at you. “Do we know him?” He repeats his question. The face Hoseok makes when he looks at you is what exposes you.
“I don’t go around asking you about the girls you slept with.” You blurt out in a serious tone.
“Exactly.” You think Hoseok agrees with you but he continues. “That’s because we tell you before you even ask.” Which makes you roll your eyes. “I never asked.”
Jimin signs in frustration. “Is it just sex or are you dating?” You immediately shake your head. “Of course it’s just sex, I just met the guy.”
“Then tell us who your fuck buddy is.” Jimin whines. “It’s not worth hiding his identity if he’s a fuck buddy.” He looks proud of the silly point he thinks he made. But he’s partially right.
“Did I tell you that we’re planning out a trip like last years?” Hoseok finally changes the subject which makes sigh in relief. Jimin opens the fridge and grabs a drink. “Which one? We went on so many trips last year.” Finally his attention is averted off of you.
“The one we had in August.” Hoseok grabs the drink that Jimin handed him. “When we went swimming.”
You are a little offended when Jimin speaks. “Oh isn’t that when Y/N threw a tantrum because she was alone?” You gasp. “Fuck you.”
“Cool, I’ll tell the guys on the group chat.” Jimin grabs his phone out of his pocket. “Can we bring a plus one this year also?”
You roll your eyes and look at Hoseok who’s already looking at you. “See?”
“This year it’s only us, I know Yoongi is bringing Mia along but I’m not sure about Taehyung. Plus it clearly made Y/N uncomfortable, so we probably shouldn’t do last year’s mistake.” Hoseok leaves the kitchen, you look at Jimin who squints his eyes while looking at you. “You could invite your fuck buddy.”
You’re intrigued for a second, but you and Namjoon only slept together once, of course it’s not going to happen. Your friends brought their flings along last year, maybe you could bring your fling along with you?
-
It’s the near the end of the week, you and Namjoon have been texting daily at this point, mostly work related stuff or even flirting back and forth. He called you the night before by midnight and he ended up making himself cum to your voice. You’re being tortured because work has been beating your ass up and you can’t find time to tell him to come over.
You’re in a night shift and you’re texting him, he’s sweet enough to stay up during your night shifts just to text you and tease you while you’re at work, just like you do to him. And it works and you scold yourself for it. You’ve lost count over how many times you had to make yourself cum in the dorms of your hospital while video chatting him. It was erotic.
“i miss kissing your lips.”
“just give me the word and I’ll drive to your work now to kiss u and fuck u.”
You have thought of telling him to come over to work, but you’re not willing to risk being caught, so of course that’s off the table. But you need him so much that your body itches for his touch.
“I miss feeling your lips around my dick L”
You rub your face in frustration and try thinking clearly.
You’ve been sleep deprived for a few days now, so when you get back from your shifts you end up sleeping the rest of the day, even  though it’s not the best sleep you’ve ever had. Or just resting because you’re extremely exhausted. But at the same time your body is tired and you need some kind of relief.
“are you flying today?”
“maybe you can come over”
He answers very quickly.
“but you’re tired from work and you need sleep.”
“yeah I’m flying but it’s later in the evening.”
Your fingers hover over the screen quick.
“It’s okay we can spend the morning together and get some sleep.”
“if you want to you can go to work from my place.”
“just get your clothes w you.”
“okay.”
He simply agrees, although your stomach is twisting and turning and you feel your nausea creeping up on you, your body is already acting upon your sex appointment and you’re nervous. But still there’s some kind of relief. Your body needs him.
It’s almost 4 in the morning and Namjoon stopped texting you a couple hours ago, you lean back onto your chair and close your  eyes for a split second, they started burning due to lack of sleep and you felt yourself getting dizzy and exhausted.
An inch close to falling asleep when the emergency room door opens and a group of paramedics walk in carrying a child who seemed to be unconscious, you and your team immediately rush to get up and start working with the child.
The child seemed to have a fever and started having convulsions because the fever wasn’t going down, you give the order to the nurses and rush to give the child full body examination, he’s totally fine and no symptoms are found that could cause his fever.
“Draw a blood sample and give him oxygen please.” You give the order and the nurses rush to obey, you look up at the paramedics. “Do you know the kid?”
“No his family just called, they’re on their way here.” The paramedic answers while holding the child’s head in place, you nod and tell one of the nurses. “Call doctor Kim Seokjin please, we could use a consult.”
“Where is he?” A woman rushes into the emergency  room and pulls the curtains open, she’s panicking and breathing quickly, she sits on her knees and grabs her son’s hand into hers, kissing him a couple of times. “Is he okay?”
You hear rushing footsteps and the curtain opens, Seokjin’s eyes are extremely red and he looks  like he was in deep sleep. “What’s the case?”
He starts taking history from his mother to distract her away from her son while you work with the nurse to give him intravenous medication to stop the convulsion, but it seems to be getting worse with every second now you’re getting worried. “Monitor the child and keep the side rails up.” You give the last order before a very familiar voice resonates from far away.
You could swear you heard the voice before, a frown sits on your face while you try and focus on  who the voice belongs to, you open the curtain and the second you peek your head out of it, the owner of the voice disappears behind the curtain and goes closer  around the child. “Is he okay?”
You peek back in and you cannot believe your eyes, what is he doing here?
He looks different, his hair all messed up, his face swollen, he’s been crying the entire way to the hospital, he couldn’t stop putting the worst case scenario on the table and he thought he might just lose his son.
He’s wearing a ring on his left ring finger, the frown on your face gets tighter, and all of a sudden you cannot think of anything, you cannot process why he’s wearing the ring? And who’s this child? And the woman too.
You’re probably seeing things, you close your eyes and shake your head, you look up at the monitor and try so hard to focus. “How much does he weigh?”
Seokjin opens the calculator on his phone and Namjoon and the woman look up at you. Namjoon’s face turns pale in seconds, his chest feels heavy and he’s breaking into cold sweat again. This is not how he wanted you to find out.
“He’s 13 kilograms.” The woman answers really  fast. “You’re his..?” You pause.
“Mother, that’s his father.”
Namjoon’s eyes pierce on your face and now he knows that he’s exposed. He wishes if the earth can swallow him whole, he can’t face you with this.
Nausea hits you again and this time you’re swallowing continuously to stop yourself from vomiting, you’re sweating like crazy and your ears start buzzing. You’d expect him to say that it’s his brother or a nephew, or even a goddamn kid he ran over with his car or found in the streets, but it’s his son.
You look back right into his eyes and he looks down, the look on his face proving that she’s serious, it is his son, and he is in fact, married.
He looks ashamed and totally not proud of what he did, he clears his throat and wipes his tears, another weave of panic hits you when you realize that he cheated on his wife with you, he has a goddamn son and he slept with another woman.
Oh my god the nausea isn’t  giving you a break when you realize again that his wife is standing in front of you, the mistress. Does she even know? Or doubt anything? As much as you wanted to spit in Namjoon’s face and beat him up, yet you can’t make a scene in your workplace because it will risk your career.
“I.. Uhm- Pardon me.” You excuse yourself, you’re swallowing back to back, you turn and walk away, you hold onto the counter because your legs can’t hold you anymore, you’re blaming yourself for not asking the man if he was involved in some kind of relationship first before sleeping with him.
Of course it’s not your fault, how would you know? He’s the one who hit on you and asked for your phone number after all.
You shiver when you remember what both of you texted each other a couple hours ago, goodness, did he text you that with his wife and  child in the same room? You’re about to vomit. The air in the emergency room is now suffocating you, you turn and actually leave through the main gate.
You try so hard to calm yourself down and you even try to convince yourself, that it was a one time thing and it won’t happen again, especially after what you just found out. No strings attached, you’ll just stop contacting him and let him solve his problems on his own.
But still, you cringe at yourself, you slept with a married man.
“Y/N,” You hear him rushing from the inside, your body never moved faster when you turned around and walked away from him, “Wait, please.” He tries catching up with your fast footsteps, but his physical and emotional state won’t let him go any faster. “Please hear me out, I was going to tell you.”
Your steps fully stop and you turn to face him out of breath, you walk closer to him your eyes shooting fire and your mouth half open. “I cannot believe you, you’re fucking disgusting for letting yourself do this.”
“I know, please-“
“How are you going to explain this? I can’t believe that you agreed to sleep with someone when you’re involved in a marriage, I can’t believe you let yourself do that, you’re a fucking cheater do you know that?”  That’s what shoots out of the top of your head, which you even regret, you should’ve told him to go fuck himself and left.
“I was going to tell you, I swear, I just didn’t find the right time.” He steps closer and you take a step back while exclaiming, your voice being the only voice that resonates through the parking lot. “The right time was before we even fucked!”
He looks around for a second making sure no one’s listening before he opens his mouth again. “I know and I’m sorry, but I swear it’s not what it looks like.”
You sarcastically cover your mouth and feign sympathy. “Oh no, did I get you wrong when you showed up with your wife and son?”
He sighs and walks closer, his hand barely hovering over your forearm. “Don’t touch me.” You pull back from him, this time you’re not swallowing and you cannot hold back the vomit anymore, you bend down and finally throw up, your tears even roll down your cheek and you gasp for air. Namjoon panics and holds on to you tightly. “Y/N! Fuck, are you okay?”
You cover your mouth with the back of your hand before shaking your head and finally straightening your back, your eyes land on him for one last time before you speak.
“Just go Namjoon, go solve your own problems, I’m not going to tell her anything just please, go away and block my number or something. I’m not a home wrecker, I would’ve never done this if I knew.”  You don’t wait for him to say anything, you just go back inside the hospital to go to the bathroom, you take too long to clean yourself up on purpose, you’re hoping his son is now okay and they left.
-
It would be a big fat lie if you denied the lesson you learned from this fling, it actually scratched something inside you and it makes you feel uneasy, you feel bad for the woman.
“You think I didn’t notice?” Seokjin who suddenly decided to visit you the next afternoon speaks, he’s sitting on your couch while helping you fold your laundry. “I was the only one sober that night and I made you two kiss, so it was partially my fault.” He recalls the night you and Namjoon kissed in the club. “You’ve been acting weird the entire night, what’s up?”
“We had sex.” You find it hard to say and for some reason there’s a lump in your throat. You knew he was too good to be true and something about him was in fact setting you off. “We actually exchanged numbers that night and we hooked up like two days after.”
“Ouch.” He scrunches his face. “Men are trash after all.”
“No they’re not.” You force a laugh. “You guys are incredible and you’re everything I could ever wish for, but Kim Namjoon was a lesson.”
“Did you block him?” He asks while putting the last piece of clothing down, and you just simply nod, he nudges your shoulder and stands up. “Hey, it was just a hook up, it’s okay. I’m going to make you something to eat.”
“Thank you.” You smile genuinely this time, he pecks your cheek and makes his way to the kitchen, you curl down onto your couch and just close your eyes.
You need to forget about that man.
-
“Hello?” Namjoon’s picks up the phone call, he was in the cockpit just about to put his phone into airplane mode so he can start the usual check before takeoff.
“Mr. Kim, How have you been?” His lawyer speaks. He’s been waiting for this phone call since forever.
As if that night wasn’t already going downhill when he was texting you and his wife decided to pick out a fight. Their son woke up terrified from his sleep and immediately had one of those fever that are induced by their arguments. Jay was hallucinating and exhausted, his fever spiked up very high and it wouldn’t go down, which made him for the first time ever, experience convulsions and tremors that he never had before, he was totally unconscious.
That night went even worse when you found out, it was totally not planned for and he was going to tell you that he’s going through a divorce, but he really didn’t have the chance.  That night guilt washed through his entire body and he felt like utter shit for making you feel the way you felt. He finally decided to go through the divorce papers again and try and finish everything faster.
“I’m going good, anything new?” Namjoon cuts to the chase, he’s had enough.
“Yes, I just wanted to inform you that we’ve sent the papers to the courthouse and they’ve scheduled an appointment in September, I hope that’s okay for you.”
Namjoon rubs his eyes. “But there’s so much time left for September.”
“Not much really, it’s a little over a month, I don’t want you to worry about it. But I wanted you to know that I’ll be in Japan throughout September. Sadly I won’t be able to attend your hearing with you, but I’ve already assigned one of Seoul’s best lawyers and he’s more than glad to help.” Althrough Namjoon is frustrated and impatient, he reminds himself that he’s been in this marriage for 3 years, and he can wait for another month, as long he’ll finally end this nightmare once and for all.
“It’s okay, can you give me his number or anything so I can contact him?” Namjoon asks.
“Don’t worry, he has your number and he will be contacting you near the end of August to meet up with you, he needs to prepare you for your hearing. Oh, and Mr. Kim?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t worry about Jay, Mr. Jung will make sure everything ends the way you want it to.”
Namjoon remembers what his son is about to go through and sighs, he recalls what happened to Jay the other night and convinces himself, that after the divorce, none of this will ever happen again. Jay will be way better off without his mother.
“Okay, thank you. I’ll see you soon.” Namjoon hangs up.
“Everything okay?” His co pilot asks while ticking the list on the paper in front of him, Namjoon nods and puts the headphones back over his head. He’s about to turn his phone off the airplane mode, but he got so used to texting you before he takes off, that his fingers work automatically and open your chat, he’s starts to type but the whole tape rewinds again.
He hasn’t blocked you and he’s not planning to, even if you two don’t hook up again, he still wants to fix his mistake, he owes you an apology and an explanation.
He deletes the few words he typed before putting his phone on airplane mode and throwing it back into his pocket. “KA 377 ready for pushback.” He speaks into his headphones and gets back to his job.
-
You finally finished getting ready, it was Friday night and you had plans with your friends to play poker at Yoongi’s,  you had already bought them a housewarming gift and wrapped it up nicely. You’re standing in front of your full body mirror setting your hair with hairspray, you slip on a cute yellow summer dress and grab your phone and keys and the gift before taking the elevator down. Hoseok already blew up your phone with calls since you’re already late.
The elevator door opens and you rush outside, Hoseok is standing near the main gate waiting for you with his phone in his hands. He’s overly protective over you so he always insists on getting out of his car to pick you up. “Finally?” He whines, you roll your eyes and walk towards him to kiss him on the cheek. “I lost track of time.”
“Let’s go.” He puts his hand behind your back and both of you walk towards his car, he gets into his seat and you open the door, you’re about to step a foot inside the car when you see Hoseok grabbing a bunch of papers from the passenger seat and putting them onto his lap to rearrange them, you finally get inside and close the door. “What are those?”
“Those are the new cases I got handed over.” He nonchalantly says, a car behind you starts honking nonstop, he looks through his rear mirror before clicking his tongue, you look behind to see someone flashing their lights, signaling him to move his car.
“You don’t have to move, he can wait.” You frown at the constant honking, Hoseok huffs before putting his seat belt on. “Here, just throw them in the back seat, let me move the car.”
Hoseok is a very well known lawyer in Seoul’s family court, he worked so hard on himself to build his own name and he became extremely popular amongst all the other lawyers, he’s been interviewed on several newspapers and magazines so many times that now all his clients are really big and known names.
“Wow these are all divorce people.” You scoff, flipping through the folders one by one, you could swear it was just you seeing things but the name you see on the last folder is what makes you pull the paper closer to your eyes.
Application for dissolution of marriage, hearing scheduled on September 12th.
Husband’s full name, Kim Namjoon.
Usual occupation, Aircraft Pilot.
You don’t need to finish reading the paper, you’re genuinely shocked he’s getting a divorce, a hint of guilt washes through you when you realize that you could be the actual reason they filed for the divorce, did she find out about you?
Goodness, you remember the young boy who’s going through his parent’s divorce because of you. You rub your eyes, your guilt increasing by the second.
“Just put them in the back seat.” Hoseok repeats, you gather the papers together and leave them unorganized on the back seat.
Well, in your defense, you didn’t know he was married, and he was the one who agreed sleeping with you even when he had a wife and a son back home, fucking disgusting, you think. And deep down you knew something was off and your gut feeling never failed you. The man was fit, smart, he had a great job, freakishly good in bed. Something just had to be wrong.
-
Namjoon finally checks into the airport hotel in Jeju, he’s been flying for almost five years so he visited almost every city around the republic and had enough sightseeing, these days he just sits in his hotel room until he’s scheduled for his departure back to Seoul, which usually happens in the minimum of 18 hours, and a maximum of two days. It’s always the same routine, he checks in, orders take out, takes a shower in case he needs one, unlocks his iPad and binge watches a series on Netflix while having his meal.
He’s in the hotel bed, it’s already late in the night and he’s not even remotely close from falling asleep. The series is playing on the device but his mind is somewhere else. He grabs his phone and unlocks it before opening his chat with you.
He scrolls up and reads all your texts all over again, he’s beating himself on the inside, you were a genuinely nice person who actually offered him what he was missing the most, intimacy.
And he simply lost you because he couldn’t confront you about his so shitty life and marriage, he finds himself gritting on his teeth, he’s been married for 3 years and he hasn’t seen one beautiful day since then. He rubs his forehead.
He rolls his eyes and scoffs, even if he did confront you and tell you he’s married from the beginning, of course you would’ve refused to sleep with him.
But goodness, you were everything he could’ve wished for, you’re really social and hardworking, you take your life pretty seriously and you’re very well behaved, someone clearly knows how to have fun and enjoy their time. Your amazing figure left him whine on his bed, he’s still extremely thirsty for you.
Even though it was just a one time hook up,
He misses you.
A long sigh leaves his plump lips when he sees his call log, it was a 40 minute long video call between you two, and he recalls exactly what happened on that call.
“Of course I can’t do that.” You whine, holding your phone closer to you while whisper shouting, Namjoon laughs and his eyes don’t leave his screen, he finds you so damn gorgeous when you’re blushing.
“Don’t look at me like that.” You scold him. It was 3 in the morning, both of you were sexting for the past hour, he decided on video calling you so you two could cum together. You were working that night.
“What are you doing to me, Y/N.” His voice was barely above a whisper. You finally head to one of the residents dorms and lock the door, the walls were extremely thin and you know you could be heard even when you’re whispering.
You lean your phone down against the wall and pull your scrub pants and panties down, you throw them away and lie down on the floor, your legs spread open so your bare wet cunt is now visible to Namjoon through the video call.
The camera is on his face and you can see his eyes burning you through the screen, he even licks his lip and gulps, his fingers run through his hair before he whispers. “Come closer.” And you immediately obey, using your heels for support, you buck up your hip and move closer to the camera.
He’s shirtless in his bed, you can see his shoulder clearly moving when he’s stroking his erect cock, he finally presses on his screen to flip the camera, showing you his monstrous cock sitting in his hand, the red head and throbbing waiting to be touched, oh how you wish you could wrap your lips around him.
He uses his index finger to smear his precum all over the head of his cock, retrieving his finger slowly to show you a thin string of precum still stuck to his finger, which makes your stomach tighten and you finally move your hand to your mouth, you spit on your middle and ring finger before moving them down to your bare cunt, rubbing your clit in slow circular motion, your eyes locked onto the screen.
“Good girl.” He whispers, you can hear a smirk in his voice, you tease your entrance with your fingers while humming. “You like it when I touch myself for you?”
“I fucking love it.” He grits on his own teeth. “Mm.” He moans when he sees you push your fingers deep into your pulsating pussy, your breath hitches in pleasure, your eyelids feel heavy but you fight the urge to close them, you need to see him since you can’t feel his touch.
His cock sits in the crock of his hand between his thumb and index finger before he strokes the head tightly, you have your earbuds into your ear which highlight every single shaky breath he’s taking. “Namjoon I’m cumming.” You announce.
His eyes roll to the back of his head when he hears his own name escape your lips, you sound so needy when you’re calling his name which drives him crazy. “Cum for me baby.”
You thrust your fingers fast inside your greedy cunt and even curl them against your spot, the pleasure that’s washing through your entire body makes you lose control of your fingers, you try so hard to fight it but you couldn’t, you figure another patter of moving your entire arm to slam your fingers against your clit and it drives you to your high immediately. “Fuck.” You whimper, your other hand traveling to the collar of your top, you bite onto it and you start breathing heavily. You finally release and you feel yourself clenching around your fingers, your arousal now covers your fingers and drips down onto your butt cheek.”Y/n, y/n-“ His deep voice rings into your ear and he finally releases, white ribbons flying into the air before landing on the bed and on his lower stomach and thighs. You can see his lower stomach tightening repeatedly with each spring of cum he shoots out. “Shit-“ He finally breathes fast, you could swear you can feel his breath into your ear and you even shiver.
You giggle before reaching over for your phone, you grab it and fully lie on the floor, he turns the camera and it’s his face again, all glowing from both the sweat and the magnificent orgasm his just had. He laughs lazily and runs his fingers through his hair again, “Was it good?”
“Mhm.” You nod, a smile sits on your face, your eyes are half closed. “I’ve never done that before.”
“Me too.” He whispers. “You’re beautiful.” He caught you off guard, your face flushes again before you turn the phone away from your face. “Stop it, such an idiot.”
A laugh escapes his plump lips that are glistening right after he licked them, he tilts his head before whining. “Let me see you.”
“I will if you shut up.” You giggle. Both of you are high on each other.
Namjoon closes his eyes and sighs again, he manages to shake out his thoughts even when he doesn’t want to, he opens his eyes again and panics when he sees you online, he even adjusts his seat and straightens his back, he puts his phone down and leans his chin on his palm and watches you stay online for a few minutes before going offline again.
He finds himself getting slightly irritated at the thought of you hanging out with another man, after all, it’s a Friday night, you could be exchanging numbers with someone else at the club or something.
He clicks his tongue again, he doesn’t have the audacity to think this way, he surrenders and locks his phone before resting back on the bed and finally watches the series properly.
-
“Full house.” You shout and put your cards down before your teammates Jungkook, Hoseok and Mia get really excited and get up to cheer you. “You guys suck!” Jungkook laughs hysterically at the other team before squeezing you closer, you take the last sip of your beer before standing up. “We should’ve put a bet on this game.” You shrug. “I knew I could beat your asses.”
“You just got lucky.” Yoongi puts his cards down. Mia walks behind him and wraps her arms around his neck before kissing him on the jaw. “Honey, don’t be a sore loser.”
“I’m not.” Yoongi rests his hand on his wife’s arms, Seokjin stands up and puts his cards down. “But you are.”
“More drinks?” Mia offers, and all of you monotonously refuse and grab your stuff. “We should get going really.”
“But it’s still early, are you working tomorrow?” She walks towards you, you shake your head. “Nope, my next shift is on Tuesday.”
“You guys wanna do something? Since most of us are actually staying home.” Jimin stands behind you. “Aren’t we supposed to go swimming?”
“Yeah, I found a few places but they’re all fully booked.” Hoseok grabs out his phone.
You were actually supposed to invite Namjoon with you to go swimming but now everything is messed up, you were so distracted with this man that even when your phone buzzes a notification you checked it quickly, you got used to him texting you.
You really need to forget about this man.
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silverinkbottle · 2 months
Text
Oh. You
Alright. Finished up the season, enraptured by the concept and premise. Especially with our lovely deer boi's total not mental break at the end.
HUGE SPOILERS FOR FINALE OF HAZBIN. GO WATCH THEN READ
Chapter 2 <-
Warnings: Violence. Murky employment of child-like spirits.
Alright. On to the premise of the fic AU.
Summary: Unexpected meetings with Exes are always dramatic. Meetings in Hell after a historic battle aren't an exception to the rule.
A/N: Shorter chapter, but writing the next one as we speak. Yes, more Reader powers/backstory shall be revealed. This was just a hint of it.
Radio Demon..Gone
A pause in the wave of whispers.
Defeated?
Your lips curled in quaint satisfaction. It wasn’t true. No, he was far too proud to go out like that. The cigarette in your left hand was quickly extinguished in a nearby ash tray as you slid over the familiar carriage of the metal typewriter. The melodic ding of the mechanisms as your fingers hovered over the cool keys. The pamphlet would have to be perfect as you could all but hear your boss’s ranting and raving if the ‘excitement’ of the failed extermination. The bravado of Hell’s singular Princess. That was the problem when writing propaganda, it was so much harder when imagining details instead witnessing them first. Or second hand as there was a faint ding of a bell, a small furred paw slid across a new memo over your desk as you glanced over it with little interest. 
Radio Demon. Located.
“Show me. My little rabbit.” You purred as your little messenger respectfully tipped his hat to you. Gently gripping your hand with its paws, you couldn’t help but hold your breath at the claustrophobic sensation of the endless darkness. It was how these little lost souls traveled throughout Hell, through the little pockets of forgotten realities.  Never really existing as a true Sinner or Hellborne, all but clinging to a semblance of existence instead of nothing. It’s how your ‘paper’ boys came to your service. The boys came in a collection of fur colors, blacks, browns, whites even the occasional red, all with long rabbit ears popping through tweed caps, looking smart in little vests and trousers. One key feature remained the same, their facial features were blank like a mannequin in a shop. As if unable to manifest their ‘true’ faces from their past, or was it the disjointed collection of spirits unable to enforce a singular will on the others. 
“Oh”.  Your eyes flickered around to the carnage of rubble. It was a mess, that was the gentlest way of putting it. However, there was an undeniable note of copper in the air, mingling with strangely sweet notes as you nudged at the corpse of an Exorcist in passing. Even that tap with your boot provoked further golden ichor from numerous stab wounds. 
“Don’t touch that.” You hissed quickly grabbing the paperboy’s hand to plug him away from the puddle. Who knew what would happen if it managed to somehow consume the holy blood. The gory vision of an imploded corpse passed over your mind. Or somehow the souls reviving themselves. No, it wouldn’t do as your hand tightened about the child-like figure’s wrist as the pair of you marched toward the wreckage of the radio station. 
The copper flecks in the warped into something far saltier as you unceremoniously kicked in the half-broken door. A squeak of excitement came from your servant as it was drawn to the energy lingering in the air, bouncing into the room. Paws reaching for the unseen as another loud squeal came from its’ faceless mask. A true scream like that of a small child as black blood dripped down onto the floor, followed by the corpse dissipating much to the disappointment of the predator. Alastor lazily flicked the ink-like blood from his hand as you sighed.
“You look like shit.” You said as that seemed to grab his attention from the corpse to you. Suit torn, a visibly hurt shoulder and above all, that dim smile that seemed to go even thinner with your inspection.
“Like even worse than the time with those moonshiners who gave us a bad batch after that wrong call out. Worse than-” 
“What. Are. You. Doing. Here.” 
His words edged with a metallic screech as you couldn’t help but laugh. His pride made it all the worse to have someone witness the great, dangerous, infamous ‘Radio Demon’ licking his wounds. 
“Making sure your ears aren’t burning, darling. The walls talk and this whole stand-off with Heaven will be all the rage on the streets. Especially about YOUR disappearance after returning so briefly for all the fanfare you stirred up. Aligning yourself with the Princess of Hell, facing Angels and aiding in some hotel. Had to come see it for myself..”
“Seems like I was a bit late for that last part. Shame.” You sighed as you jabbed a pointed finger towards the mess outside. Stepping over the corpse it was all too easy to see the little restraint remaining in the demon’s gaze as sharp nails grabbed your face.
“Don’t get pissy because I am telling YOU the truth. A nice change for once, don’t you agree?” You teased as his free hand drifted over the crimson fur of your fox ears. Your sharp canine sank down onto your lower lip to resist the urge to squeal when the gentle touch turned to a rougher tug. A thin trickle of blood drifted over Alastor’s smug expression as you had managed to cut a razor-thin line with your folding knife over his skin. His throat would be next if he didn’t release your ears as you hissed low in your throat.
“Curiosity killed the cat, dearest. Surely you know that better than most.” Alastor retorted as his gaze flicked down to your covered throat. 
“Aren’t we terribly clever.” You sneered as you took a few steps back. Even in his weakened state, you knew it was wiser to play your cards cautiously than provoke him further. Genuine surprise crossed your features as you spied to battered remains of that infernal microphone. So those rumors were true as you withdrew your little black book from your dress pocket. A snap of your fingers as an inkwell pen neatly checked off the short list. You were quick to close the book with a loud sigh as Alastor’s peering over your shoulder was less than subtle. 
“Don’t you-”
“My, my, still writing all sorts of rumors aren’t you. However, do you find the time?” Alastor mused as he flicked lazily through the pages. Irritatingly sidestepping you with each attempted grab. There wasn’t much worth in that book, but it was still beyond infuriating. Taking a deep breath, you forced a pleasant smile on your face as your fingers snapped together. There was the faintest ding of a typewriter as another small rabbit-like creature sprang from the floor, collecting the book with a quick grab. 
“I have reliable help. Which is surprisingly difficult to come by these days. Unlike some Sinners, I can’t shrink from my duties to throw a temper tantrum.” You ticked off the comments on your fingers as Alastor’s ears went flat at the petty remark. 
“Oh, I am sorry. Would you like me to embellish it a bit? A dramatic session of sulking after a bruising defeat. An outburst of egotistical pride? No. Something far more crude. A shit-fit.” You nodded to your little rabbit as its paws hastily scribbled your dictation into the notebook.
“Hilarious.”
“I prefer charming.” You deadpanned as he shook his head at you. There was an almost faint feeling of nostalgia in the air now. It was almost human as the faintest memory of you finding him sulking after a less than perfect evening show. That his beat was off, ever the perfectionist as you patted his head with gentle encouragement. Far less cruel times before the darkness began to contaminate both of you.
“You never did answer my question. What are you doing here?” Alastor quipped as he ran a fingertip over the broken top of the microphone. 
“You really think I would miss out on the potential of this?” You dramatically gestured to the carnage about you.So many stories waiting to be written as you clapped your hands together. Summoning two more paperboys as their ears quivered from side to side waiting for your word. 
“Now off you go. Don’t leave a stone unturned. I wonder if we can get some true numbers on the casualties of saintly Heaven. Now would stir up the populace.” Your pen cut through your book without a thought as if you were in the privacy of your office. Instead of that of one ex-husband who was looking more and more perturbed at your avoidance of the question.
“I’m waiting.” Alastor chirped as his fingers splayed over the wet ink, pulling the book away from you. Or at least he tried to as you were quick to jab the sharp tip of the pen into his index fingers provoking a small hiss from the demon.
“You’ll keep waiting. I’ll give you a single crumb, I didn’t come here for YOU.” You snapped as you did your best to smooth out the crinkled page. The writing itself was a smudged mess of ink as you scowled at the once crisp paper.
“Then. Why?” Alastor asked as you gently closed the book shut, slipping it into your dress pocket. Now came the difficult or was it the dangerous part? Despite your estranged relationship, he was an Overlord and you were well..You. Your connections came from the rumor mills of Hell, whispers of your paperboys hiding in the shadows and the scant bit of information from the rants of your boss.
“I was asked to inspect the battleground, sort out the truth from the gossip and exaggerations. Plus the smallest bit of curiosity-”
“About-?” Alastor mused as he cocked his head at you.
“If it was true that Angels had been slain by their own weapons. I know markets are going to flux with all that. Not to mention the apparent discovery of near comatose cannibals found on the side of the road. Complaining about being TOO full for once, it was quite-” 
“You’re chirping an all too familiar song, kit. I know you are hiding something far more than that. Now whoever could have convinced YOU to do the dirty business of finding out sources yourself.” Alastor mused as he placed a single finger under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.
“It was Vox.” 
Laughter burst from you as saw the telltale twitch of his right eye. The harsher smile over his face at the mere mention of his hated rival. The potential power vacuum or perhaps the reverse of it now that the King of Hell seemed less reclusive.
‘Now, don’t get your antlers in a knot. It wasn’t Vox, you really think I would lower myself and quality for his trash version of news? Please, darling. I do have standards.” You smirked as you smugly patted his cheek before turning on your heel to leave the wreckage of the studio.
“Now, don’t sulk for too long. I imagine that little hotel needs you now more than ever.” 
As soon as you stepped back into the air. Small papers were all but shoved in your direction. Questions, answers, comments all things to be filed away as you dove into your work. Allowing words to shove out the memories of the past. To continue forging your path in this forsaken place in your own way. With the smallest bit of leverage through blackmail, threats and a flair all your own. 
Flipping through the notes, the faintest tug on your sleeve pulled your attention from the words. A simple request. One that made you want to throw a tantrum of your own as the golden ink burned in your vision. It wasn’t a request. 
It was an order.
“Fuck me.” You hissed as you pulled a cigarette from your pocket, allowing the flame of your lighter to ignite the blissful nicotine and eat away at the fine paper. Burning the message into ash to join the rest of the wreckage around you.
You hated feeling cornered. It was an ugly feeling that made your skin crawl like a fox with its leg caught in a trap. There was bitter irony in the scenario as you caught sight of your reflection in the mirror. The vulpine-like features weren’t as much of a hindrance as you knew it could be for other sinners. Your ears twitched as you could hear the faint conversation outside on the street beneath your room’s window. However, it did make your emotions more expressive as you could guard your tongue, but your ears were another story when it came to harsher emotions.  Running a brush through the soft fur of your tail as you perched on the edge of your desk, quietly directing the paperboys about you. Files had to be carefully moved, copied, sent elsewhere for safekeeping and then copied again. Each copy had little fragments of the truth in it, it would be quite the task to assemble all the pieces of the puzzle if someone was desperate enough. Or stupid enough given the true owner of the content wasn’t fond of others knowing his secrets.
Hours passed in a mere blink of the eye as you sighed running your fingers over the last box of files with satisfaction. All written in ink or typed by typewriter, some called your method of recordkeeping outdated. You preferred to think of it as efficient, it was far more difficult to change dried ink than a meddlesome electronic document. Besides, your boss was pleased as long as you managed to write his dictations without the need for a pause in his rambling. Yet, given the events lately, hopefully the work would keep him bursting into your quarters late at night too often.
Clicking together the last few buttons of your tweed dress collar as the lapel was accented by a singular red rose pin, you couldn't help but admire the shine of it. Its metallic petals caught in the sunlight as you stepped out onto the busy streets.You were quick to grab the ears of the paperboys flanking you, halting them from bolting off, especially with the boxes in their hands.
“No time to dawdle, I can’t be late..” You hissed before releasing the furry ears with a nod. Others would soon follow their steps as you silently hoped your arrival wouldn’t be met with much trouble. Up to the steps of the newly refurbished, rebuilt and endorsed by the King of Hell himself, the newly improved..
Hazbin Hotel
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pasukiyo · 10 months
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𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | cedric diggory
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cedric diggory x f!reader 2,733 words warnings; nothing except for fluff<3 summary; cedric diggory had an idea. that was never a good sign.
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 He was staring again. 
 Out from the corner of her eye, she could see the bluish-gray of his irises, a rosy cheek squished against the heel of his palm where it rested, the fingers of his other hand drumming against the top of his desk. She shifted in her seat, color growing in her cheeks as she tried to focus on what Professor Trelawney was saying. Alas, between Cedric’s eyes boring into the side of her skull and the tedious Divination lesson, her attempts were aimless. 
 Her fingers curled around the edge of her parchment, her fists tightening with the paper balled inside them, her face so hot she was certain her skin would break out in a layer of sweat any moment. He was planning something. She could feel it. The only problem was, she had no idea what could possibly be going on inside that head of his. 
 The realm of possibilities were endless, and she found herself tapping her own fingers against the top of her desk, her opposite hand absentmindedly scribbling notes onto her piece of parchment in an attempt to ignore him. From the corner of her eye, she could see a blur of black and yellow as Cedric moved, and she blinked up to where Professor Trelawney stood at the front of the class, her back now turned. Cedric was leaning over the aisle now, his Hufflepuff scarf dangling in front of his chest, ignoring the looks he was getting from Fred and George where they sat behind them.
 She pouted. There was no way in hell the Weasley twins would let her live this down. 
 “Meet me in the South Wing at nine?” Cedric whispered in her ear and she narrowed her eyes, turning to eye his features. His lips were curved into a soft yet mischievous grin, a knowing glint in his eyes. Somehow, she had a strange feeling about this. “Nine o’clock?” She scoffed beneath her breath. “You are crazy, Cedric Diggory,” she shook her head. “You realize that I am not a prefect? I’ll be in trouble if I’m seen.”
 Cedric tittered and leaned in even closer, his breath a whisper against the shell of her ear and creeping shivers down the coil of her spine. “You know I’ll take care of you,” he murmured, her cheeks flooding with warmth. “Don’t you trust me?”
 It was then that the bells from outside began to chime, indicating that the period has ended, therefore finally, Divination was over. She practically sprung from her seat, nearly butting heads with Cedric as she pulled the strap of her bag over her shoulder, making haste towards the exit. 
 She began her descent down the ladder leading to the hallway outside the Divination classroom and as soon as her feet hit the ground, Cedric was calling her name. She picked up her pace, her robes flying behind her as she dashed down the corridor, making it as far as the top step of the staircase before his hand was latching around her wrist, tugging her back into him. 
 “Cedric,” she whined, turning to peer over her shoulder at him. He chuckled, “you’re awfully fast.” She huffed, blowing a strand of hair away from her face. “And somehow, not fast enough,” she muttered. Cedric’s grin widened and his hands rose between them, a few rolls of parchment spilling over his knuckles. “You forgot your notes.”
 Her chest heaved when she sighed and snatched the parchment from his hands, stuffing them into the knapsack at her hip. “So… you’re meeting me in the South Wing at nine, yes?” He said, hopeful as he swiped his tongue between his lips, eyeing the way she gleaned down to her shoes. She exhaled again, leaning her shoulder against the wall as students passed by and Cedric, too, leaned into the wall, stuffing his hands in his trouser pockets, awaiting her answer. Unfortunately for her, she was a sucker for Cedric Diggory.
 “Do I really have a choice?” She finally asked, pinching her bottom lip between her teeth as she looked back up at him, to which Cedric’s lips peeled to unveil his pearly whites, and he chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m afraid not,” he replied. “So, I take it I’ll see you then? Say… in the courtyard?”
 Her shoulders droop in defeat, but when Cedric draws in closer to her body until his toes were teasing the top of hers, she knew she couldn’t stay upset for long. She gazed up at the Hufflepuff boy, and it was then that she realized just how close he was, his breath looming over her skin. Her cheeks burned and finally, she tore herself away, taking steps backwards down the staircase. 
 “I’ll see you tonight,” she confirmed. “But if I’m caught, I’ll never let you live it down, do you hear me, Diggory?” 
 Cedric rolled his eyes as he watched her venture further down the stairs, “you shouldn’t worry so much. You’re in good hands!”
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 Sneaking to the South Wing after curfew proved to be a lot more difficult than she had initially anticipated. She wondered if Cedric chose tonight on purpose, if he somehow knew that Snape and Filch and Mrs Norris would be around almost every single corner. She huffed as she pressed herself further into the wall, hoping the shadows were doing enough to conceal her as Mrs Norris pranced by, thankfully not looking her way. She exhaled the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding in as she turned into the– hopefully– empty corridor, looking around for Cedric.
 Where was that boy?
 She stopped in front of the door leading to the Clock Tower Courtyard to turn and peer over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes as she searched the end of the corridor to make sure the course was clear. She pushed open the doors as carefully as she could to avoid making noise, hoping that Cedric would be somewhere on the other side, waiting for her. She guided the doors closed behind her, wincing as they latched closed, hoping she had been cautious enough to not attract any attention. 
 She turned and blinked around the dark, empty courtyard, the boy in question still nowhere in sight. Her chest heaved when she huffed, crossing her arms as frustration swelled inside of her. It wasn’t like him to be late, but it was likely he could be messing with her. Cedric always loved playing games, but it was late and the wind had a chill to it, and the idea that she could be caught by Professor Snape had her on the very edge. 
 She turned around on her heels and was so close to slipping back inside the castle, but before she could even get her hands on the doors, a pair of arms slithered around her waist and her feet were lifted from the ground, the hairs on her body standing erect. Her lips parted and she nearly screeched, and she would’ve if she hadn’t realized who it was holding her close, her eyebrows knitted together when she turned to face Cedric, balling up her fist to give him a not-so-kind knock against the chest. 
 “Merlin’s beard, Cedric, don’t sneak up on me like that!” She whined, narrowing her eyes when he laughed. “It’s not funny. You know you happened to choose the night where nearly the entire teaching staff is on the prowl?” Cedric only rolled his eyes as he pressed her back closer into his chest, swaying them back and forth as he buried his lips in her hair. “You underestimate Cedric,” he murmurs into the top of her head, “Cedric is a lot more than a pretty face, you know.”
 She rolled her eyes and turned in his arms to face him and even in the dark of the night, she was still able to make out the gleam in his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re thinking,” she whispered, eyes surging into his, her lips twisting into a scowl. “But I already think I’m not going to like whatever it is.” 
 Cedric’s bottom lip jut out into a pout as she began to slip from her arms and he caught her hands before she could detach completely. “You’re no fun,” he groaned, squeezing her hands even tighter when she whined, trying to pull away. “But I’m going to prove you wrong.”
 She pursed her lips, giving up her attempts to tug her hands away from his to once again gaze up into the slate grayness of his irises, illuminated with mischief. Despite his claims that she should feel otherwise, she had a terrible feeling about this. 
 “Cedric…” she trailed off as he began to tug her forward by the hand, leading her through the moonlit courtyard, dread creeping down her spine and making her insides churn. “...where are you taking me?” She asked, her glare like a dagger against the back of his head. 
 If he could feel her gaze, he paid it no mind. 
 He led her outside of the courtyard and past the walls surrounding the castle, leading her further into the black of the night. “Cedric,” she whined, shaking his arm until his stride fell to her pace, glancing to where she walked beside him. “It’s cold. You couldn’t have chosen somewhere indoors?” She asked as he led her further down the hill until he came to a stop and she turned to gaze at the moonlit water ahead of them.
 And it was then that she realized where he had taken her. 
 “Cedric…” she murmured his name in a warning tone, eyeing him as wiggled his hand out of her grasp and knelt down to work at his shoes, tossing them off somewhere behind him. Her lips fell agape, “Cedric!” She shook her head. “You cannot be serious!”
 Cedric’s lips only curved into a crescent, beaming at her as he rolled his socks off his feet and began to shoulder his robe off of him. “What’s wrong?” He tittered, cocking an eyebrow to his hairline. “Scared?”
 She pressed her lips together in a firm line and crossed her arms over her chest, scoffing at the Black Lake, the moonlight rippling in its waving waters. “It’s freezing out here, Cedric,” she hissed between her teeth. “And there’s… there’s things in there.”
 Cedric chuckled, “I should know. I had to swim it to rescue you for the task last month, remember?”
 She scoffed again and rolled her eyes as Cedric finally stripped down to nothing but his undergarments, backpedaling towards the shore. “So? Are you coming?” He questioned, the water rolling around his ankles. She raised her eyebrows and scoffed, “you’re insane, Cedric Diggory,” she said, disbelieving the scene as it unraveled before her. She could still make out Cedric’s grin even as he waded further into the water until the lake swallowed his shoulders, leaving everything except for his head submerged. “Crazy! And there is no way that I am swimming in that freezing, creature-infested water!”
 Cedric rolled his eyes and leaned his head back against the surface, somehow reveling in the icy cold lake as if it were a warm bath. She shivered, chills littering her skin with goosebumps partly due to the breeze but also from just watching him. “You needn’t worry,” Cedric said as he rose to his feet, droplets of water dripping from his arms and chest as he gave her a little salute. “Your knight in shining armor is he–!”
 Her eyes widened in their sockets and her lips fell apart in a gasp as Cedric tumbled backwards as if something had grabbed ahold of him, tugging him below the surface. She stepped closer to the water, searching the surface for any sign of him, her search coming to no avail. 
 A string of panicked curses tumbled from her lips as she made quick work of ripping her shoes from her feet, quickly stripping her body of her clothes until she, too, was down to her underwear. Pursing her lips and puffing out her cheeks, she willed herself to wade into the water– which was just as cold as she had anticipated it to be. But Cedric still had not reappeared to the surface and she knew that if something had really grabbed him, it was only a matter of time until it was too late. 
 “Cedric!” She called his name, shivering as the water rose to her shoulders, ice frosting her limbs and making her muscles numb, every move she made harder than the last. “Cedric!” She called again, her feet no longer able to touch the sand below, her arms swinging as hard as they could to keep her head above the surface. Her heart began to drum against her chest– how long had it been since Cedric had been dragged down under? Was he alright? Was he still able to breathe?
 She squeezed her eyelids shut, trying to muster up all the courage she had to will herself below the surface despite her fears of whatever lurked beneath, despite how cold she was. Just as she had begun to take a deep breath, something latched around her ankle and dragged her down below the water, completely submerging her. Her mouth parted to release her scream as she snapped her eyelids open, still somehow to make out Cedric’s grin even below the surface of the dark lake. 
 She furrowed her brows as he circled his arms around her waist, trying to sneak his lips onto hers as she kicked and flailed, bringing them both back up to the surface. She gasped as air filled her lungs, her cheeks warm with anger as she watched Cedric brush his hair back away from his face, laughing as she pushed water into his face. 
 “You are such an arse!” She shrieked, her body trembling as the breeze hit her wet skin. “I thought something had you! I thought… I thought you were… ugh!” She kicked her way to an area where her feet could touch the ground, crossing her arms back over her chest as she turned away from him, glaring up at the castle. Cedric chuckled as he made his way over to where she stood, slithering his arms around her waist and dropping his chin to her shoulder, giving the wet flesh of her neck a few playful kisses.
 “Awe, are you mad at me?” He cooed close to her ear and she pressed her lips together tighter, yet, allowing herself to fall back into his warmth. Cedric pouted, planting more kisses along the curve of her shoulder. “Please don’t be mad at Cedric,” he said, knocking the pitch of his voice up a few octaves. “Cedric isn’t a bad boy. Cedric loves you very much.”
 She rolled her eyes again but couldn’t suppress the smile creeping up on her lips, breathing out a laugh. “You’re such an idiot, Cedric Diggory,” she tittered, twisting in his arms, his interlocked hands now pressing against the small of her back. She rested the sides of her fists against the slick skin of his chest as his forehead dropped against hers, scrunching his nose at her. “But because of my brilliant plan, you got in the water,” he muttered, shrugging his shoulders as he gently swayed their bodies back and forth. “So, you know, I’m not a total idiot.”
 She scoffed, but it came out as more of a laugh as he nuzzled his nose against hers, breathing in her scent, drawing her body closer to his. “This is nice,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss beneath her eye. She shrugged, “I could do without the ‘freezing my arse off’ part.”
 Cedric chuckled and the tip of his nose dragged down along her cheek until his lips were against hers, gentle as they captured them in a soft, chaste kiss, the pad of his thumb soothing over the skin at the small of her back. Her heart stuttered in her chest as they pulled away, and she blinked up at him, reveling in the reassurance that she was in her boy’s arms, and he wasn’t going to let her go. 
 With her still in his arms, he kicked back off the ground, leading her further into the lake. “It’s a beautiful night,” he whispered, brushing wet strands of hair away from her face and behind her ear. “Let’s enjoy it.”
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a/n; OMG I FINALLY FINISHED AN IMAGINE! so sorry this one took so long to write up and post, i went to disney world and universal studios at the beginning of may for my birthday so i didn't have any time to write and then when i got back home, i just didn't feel like writing lol but! it's been awhile since i've written for the best hufflepuff boy and there's definitely not enough fics out there on this platform for him so here you go<3
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