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alltheirdamn · 7 months

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A Bounty for Reward (Mando x f!reader)

CHAPTER 12

Summary: Revenge tastes so fucking sweet. Warnings: extreme violence, blood and gore, weapons, dismemberment (sorry...), torture, wound care, shower sex, unprotected piv sex, oral (m receiving), fingering, language Word Count: 7.1k A/N: First and foremost, I am so sorry it took me a bit of extra time to get this chapter posted. I am the WORST at writing action-packed scenes and truly spent a week bashing my head against a wall trying to get it right. (it still isn't good lol) But anyway, pls look past the monstrosity that is ~my writing~ and enjoy the karma Kesi deserves.

Din really fucking hated being stuck on a ship with the three Mandalorians. Paz was a part of Clan Vizsla, another house within the Death Watch. While Din hadn’t interacted much with him, the scene in Nevarro was enough to make his blood boil. Paz had never seen Din remove his helmet, but the insinuation he knew had Din on edge. Maybe the apparent relationship between him and the girl led Paz to consider the chances of Din breaking his Creed. Paz wasn’t wrong, but his distaste for Din would cause a problem if it went any further.

All four of them had squeezed into the cockpit of the Gauntlet as they flew towards Oba Diah. For a few hours, there was nothing but silence and building tension between them all. Bo Katan and Koska had removed their helmets early on, proving to be one more thing that set Din on edge. Despite his loyalty to the Death Watch, seeing them so free in their own Clan made him extremely envious. Din had renounced his loyalty but wasn’t ready to completely break free from all he had known.

“So,” Bo Katan said, breaking the silence.

She turned the pilot's seat around to face Din, a smug grin teasing the corners of her lips.

“This girl must be something special if you’re killing in her honor,” she smirked. “Let me guess, you broke your loyalty for her, huh? Took off that shiny helmet?”

Din didn’t respond. Bo Katan could see right through him.

“Does she know what that means?” Bo Katan raised an eyebrow.

“You are no Mandalorian,” Paz growled from beside Din.

Din exhaled heavily, turning his visor towards Paz. While Paz was twice his size, Din wasn’t intimidated; he was just worried that this situation would affect the mission.

“I have done nothing wrong,” Din said.

“Apostate! You have gone against our Creed, and for what? That girl?”

Din was out of his seat, pining Paz against his own with a vibroblade. Paz’s strength outdid Din’s, but Din kept a firm hand on Paz’s cowl to hold him down.

“I am still a Mandalorian!” Din snapped.

“Your loyalty lies elsewhere,” Bo Katan chimed in. “Unless you and her have taken vows to one another, Paz is correct. You have broken the creed within your Clan. In their books, you are no longer a Mandalorian.”

“I am loyal to my Clan,” Din defended, though it felt like a lie.

“You are loyal to her,” Bo Katan argued.

Paz shoved Din, forcing him to stumble back into his chair. Din knew in his heart his loyalty was to her and her alone, but admitting that aloud to other Mandalorians made the weight of it too heavy to carry. Especially with Paz, that admission would come with a fight in words and fists, and he needed their focus on the mission. Din still needed time to learn who he was without his Creed before he could face any more scrutiny.

“Our focus is this mission,” Din said firmly. “Nothing else.”

“I will not stand beside someone who tosses their loyalty at a woman's feet,” Paz snapped.

“You have come to fight, Paz,” Bo Katan interjected. “You both can sort your issues out after. We will fight in return for Mando’s help, and I will not let the rules of your Clan stand in the way.”

Paz had little else to say in doing so, leaving the cockpit and retreating into the belly of the ship. Din sat defeated, watching the galaxy pass by as they flew closer to Oba Diah. His mind was fixated on Kesi and all the ways he would torture him, though he found his thoughts wandering to the quiet moments spent on the Crest with her. Just this one mission, and he’d be home.

The Gauntlet passed through Oba Diah’s atmosphere a day later. The planet was drenched in an endless array of grey clouds and smoke. As they flew further into the city, it became alight in colors of neon green that seemed to dissolve into the smoky haze surrounding the mountain crags. Din had never seen a city built around a fortress, but that’s what it was: a fortress. Nestled between the obsidian cliffs and mountain crags, they flew closer to a large spaceport where several ships were inbound. Bo Katan slowed the ship as they neared the port, her focus dead set on landing somewhere untraceable.

“We’ll be lucky to make it out of here in one piece,” she grumbled.

Koska scoffed at her words, throwing a deadly glare at Din. He knew it was because of his infatuation with killing Kesi that they were all in this predicament, but he didn’t care. He needed this.

“Once this is settled, my help will be returned,” Din swore.

“Oh, I know,” Bo Katan said.

She found a secluded area in the mountain range to land the Gauntlet, giving them enough time to gather weapons and create a somewhat thought-out plan. Din knew that the Pykes were unpredictable, and whatever they were walking into, they needed to keep sharp. He was in full hunter mode now; nothing would prevent him from finding and killing Kesi.

Paz was quieter towards Din now, instead focusing on loading his large blaster—there was a reason why Mandalorians referred to him as the Heavy Infantry Mandalorian.

As Bo Katan lowered the ship's ramp, she adjusted her helmet on her head, Koska following suit. Din felt a sudden wave of jealousy washing over him as he observed their nonchalance with the motion, wishing he could feel that free with his armor. He could be as free as he desired with her but not surrounded by Mandalorians who scrutinized his every move and decision.

“There’s an entrance into the fortress on the eastern edge of the mountain range,” Bo Katan explained. “We’ll move there and secure the surroundings before entering. I’m not sure where Kesi could be located in the fortress, but we need to stay alert and ready for any possible chance of a fight.”

They nodded in agreement and started to hike east towards the entrance. It was no easy trek to the entrance as they encountered unstable ground and falling rocks, but as they neared the fortress, the ground evened out and gave a clear path to the door. Din surveyed the surroundings; his blaster clutched tight as he scanned the perimeter. He gave an ‘all-clear’ sign to the other three, motioning them forward. Paz approached the entrance first, trying his hand at the coded system that kept it locked. Din wasn’t surprised to find it heavily armored, but it didn’t seem to phase Paz as he blasted the system and sent the door flying open.

“Easy enough,” Paz grumbled, forcing his large body through the door first.

It was, in fact, not easy.

The security system of the fortress set off a loud alarm, the entire entrance drenched in red as they sprinted down the hallway. The blaring sound of the alarm drowned out Din’s mind as he raced through the building, his weapon lifted as he readied himself for the fight. Bo Katan and Koska remained further back to guard Din and Paz as they swept through the lower floor, scanning for any indication of straggling spice traders. They came up empty and continued to scour the lower level until they reached an unmanned turbolift.

“Be ready for the fight,” Din instructed, leading them into the lift.

Bo Katan unsheathed her duel pistols, followed by Koska lifting her blaster rifle to eye level as they faced the door. Paz was grumbling nonsense as he readied his weapon, training it at the door for when it opened. The turbolift ascended above ground, the lights flickering red as it came to a stop. Din held in a breath as he anticipated the worst, his weapon mirroring the other Mandalorians.

They knew what awaited them when the doors opened.

Pykes littered the hallway as the turbolift door opened, their rifles sending a downpour of blasts toward the four Mandalorians. Din ducked under the fire, sending a return of shots that forced a domino effect of Pykes falling to the ground. Paz advanced in front of Din, his large blaster nearly incinerating the remaining smugglers that stood in their way.

“Good work,” Din panted.

Paz huffed at his words, stalking forward as they turned down another hallway. Bo Katan and Koska flanked Din’s sides, their helmets whipping back and forth for any other Pykes on their tails. Despite their arguments on the ship, Din was grateful for their help because he knew he wouldn’t have survived this alone.

The hallway opened into a large operations room, the screens covered in static and blinking lights. Bo Katan surged forward to inspect the operation systems, checking for locations within the fortress that might be useful. Paz remained in the doorway, his blaster set to kill in case anyone ventured their way. Once Bo Katan located a map of the fortress, Din’s eyes wildly searched it for any clues. The entire Pyke fortress was a series of mazes that led to various operation rooms or spice mills. Din had a hunch Kesi would be in one of the main operations rooms, so he set his sights on traveling higher to the heart of the building.

While they gathered information, another grouping of Pykes rounded the entrance, circling them until they were outnumbered. A slew of shots rang out from both sides, some of the shots hitting the hardware within the room and lighting the systems on fire. They had to move now before things got worse. All four Mandalorians fought their way out of the smoking room and maneuvered over the dead bodies as they searched for another escape route. Din led them back into the hallway toward another turbolift, keeping a mental note of which operations rooms he wanted to tear apart, all the while fantasizing about the way he’d torture Kesi.

The turbolift opened into the heart of the fortress, the hallway lined with Syndicate members waiting to strike them down. Each advanced at a deadly speed, their rifles more powerful than the last group they encountered. Din surged forward, dropping to a crouch as he tore through the bodies with his vibroblade. Din was bloodthirsty as he watched them drop to the ground, their masked faces staring blankly at the ceiling as they continued through the fortress. He was ruthless with each kill, striking some with his blaster while he tore into others with his blade. The other Mandalorians didn’t hold back with their violence, either, their body count adding to his as they moved in deadly silence.

“Check every room,” Din commanded. “If you find Kesi before I do, you alert me. He’s mine.”

The violence laced within Din’s words forced them to agree in silence as they split up, each tracking the halls on their own. Din moved through the main hallway of the fortress, the alarm still blaring in the back of his mind. His armor was doused in red light as he lurked around the corners, dropping Pykes where they stood. Some of their shots landed against his armor, but they made no impact on the beskar covering his chest or arms.

He approached the first row of rooms lining the hallway, the metal steel doors taunting him with each step. Din nearly vibrated with rage when he hijacked the last room, the remnants of sabacc tables and spice dirtying the ground. He was losing his sanity with each step, knowing how close he was to finding Kesi and coming up empty every time a new room appeared. Standing in the final empty room, Din let out a frustrated yell, sinking his fist into the metal wall until it dented.

“Mando!” Bo Katan’s voice broke through the rage-filled thoughts in his mind.

She appeared at the room entrance, her helmet flicking to the wall and back to Din’s heaving body. He schooled his features, straightening his shoulders as he waited for her to speak. He desperately needed to hear those three words leave her mouth.

“We found him,” Bo Katan said.

Din’s vision went red.

Bo Katan led him down a series of pathways, already covered in bloodshed and death left by her and Koska, till they reached a standalone room. Din clipped his blaster back onto his weaponry belt as he followed Bo Katan through the broken doorway. He wouldn’t need a gun for this death; he wanted to draw out the pain until there was nothing left of Kesi.

Paz had Kesi pinned to the floor, Koska flanking his side with her blaster raised and aimed at Kesi’s head. Din stepped into the room and motioned for her to lower her weapon. She stepped aside, letting Din take her spot.

“Leave us,” Din said, angling his head toward the doorway.

“We can kill him right now,” Paz argued.

Din’s helmet snapped toward Paz, and he wished Paz could see the dangerous glare twisting his facial features. Gnashing his teeth together, he waited for Paz to relent and leave.

“He’s mine,” Din snapped.

Paz gave one stiff nod and retreated into the hallway.

Kesi laughed, exhausted, as he slumped against the wall, his teeth barred and yellow eyes gleaming under the flashing red lights. The color distorted his features, his face shadowed and mocking as he stared at Din.

“All of this chaos for some whore?” He taunted.

Din’s fist made contact with the center of Kesi’s face, bone cracking the only noise above the alarm system. This was just the start of what he wanted to do to the vile piece of shit in front of him. Kesi doubled over, groaning and clutching his bleeding nose, and Din took a slow step forward, crowding him against the ground. Lowering himself into a crouch, he gripped Kesi by the hair on his scalp, forcing him to meet the visor of his helmet.

“I’m going to enjoy killing you,” Din growled.

Kesi spit blood at Din’s helmet, the splatter minimal across the visor. Din wished Kesi could see the murderous grin he had as he watched him writhe under his grasp.

“You realize the type of people that will hunt you down, right?” Kesi laughed, blood coating his teeth.

“Let them.”

Din unsheathed his vibroblade and angled it at the base of Kesi’s neck. Dragging the tip across the skin, he relished at how the blood slowly pooled to the surface. Releasing his grip on Kesi’s hair, Din reached for Kesi’s hand and bent it sideways, followed by another harmony of cracking bones. Kesi wailed in pain, thrashing against Din’s hold.

“You touched her once,” Din accused. “That needs to be fixed.”

Steadying the broken hand, Din took the blade to Kesi’s first finger, sawing against the bone until the flesh fell away along with the digit. He paid no mind to the sound of Kesi’s cries as he moved to the next finger, repeating the mutilation until his hand was void of all five fingers. Blood seeped into Din’s glove as he tossed the damaged hand aside, reaching for Kesi’s other to deliver the same torture.

“Stop!” Kesi begged as Din tore into the first finger.

“Did you stop when she begged?” Din seethed.

Kesi only whimpered, his body shaking with a mixture of pain and blood loss.

“I didn’t think so,” Din said.

With all of his fingers disposed onto the ground at his feet, Din lifted the blade back to the edge of Kesi’s jaw. The man was practically a heap of flesh and blood, his consciousness slipping with each passing moment.

“Hell is too good for someone like you,” Din whispered.

He drew the bloodied blade across Kesi’s neck, a gurgled sound seeping from his lips. Din stepped back to watch as it stained his tanned skin and tattered clothes, the color of it darkening with each flash of the red lights in the room. Kesi’s body crumpled to the floor, his eyes staring blankly at the walls. Din wasn’t done yet.

Grounding the sole of his boot between Kesi’s shoulder blades, he yanked Kesi’s head up and tore into the flesh and bone of his throat until his head fell from his body.

It wasn’t enough to fix the past, but it was enough to satisfy Din.

The other Mandalorians didn’t question Din when he emerged from the room drenched with Kesi’s blood. Bo Katan gave him a knowing nod, grasping his shoulder as they turned to leave. Din was in a murderous haze as they rewound their way down to the east entrance, still on alert for other Pykes. So far, they were clear as they rounded the path back to the Gauntlet.

“We need to go back to Nevarro,” Din huffed.

“I’ll give you a week with your girl, and we'll leave for our mission,” Bo Katan replied. “No backing out now, Mando. You did us a favor, and now you owe me.”

“I understand.”

The ramp lowered to the ship, and they began climbing up. From the corner of his eye, Din spotted a Pyke lurking on the ship's west side, barreling toward them. Din flipped his blaster from his hip, but not fast enough to avoid a sharp pain threading up his abdomen. He heard the remnants of footsteps running down the ramp behind him as everything around him faded.

You were getting stir-crazy in the confines of the room Karga had stuffed you into. You had the freedom to leave as long as he oversaw your every move, but without Din, nothing interested you. Which was pretty fucking pathetic. Never could you have imagined your life revolving around a man—it was sort of laughable. But you loved him, and that outweighed the unfortunate butterflies in your stomach swirling about.

You had sat yourself by the window most of the morning, watching the citizens of Nevarro roam about the main street. Though most of the town was filled with bounty hunters and drunken gamblers, you could spot small families occasionally. That pang of jealousy still thrummed inside your heart as you gazed upon them; you hated that you couldn’t have that life. You hated that you couldn’t give Din that same life, too. If he ever wanted to have a family, it wouldn’t happen with you, and that was a truth you’d have to learn to live with.

As the morning passed into early afternoon, you caught a glimpse of a ship passing through the atmosphere. It was Bo Katan’s ship; you knew that much. Your feet couldn’t carry you fast enough through the inn and streets; your breath ragged as you finally made ground toward the docking port. It wasn’t until you saw Paz Viszla carrying a limp body down the ramp that your body stood paralyzed.

It was Din.

“What the hell happened?” You nearly screamed, barely avoiding stumbling into Bo Katan. She kept you at arm's length despite your body fighting against her hold. You tried to conceal your worry, but you failed… poorly. Din’s hand was clutching his side, blood pooling over his glove. You didn’t even have time to understand why the rest of him was caked in dried blood, either, but you had a terrible hunch you knew the reason.

“A Pyke snuck up on us as we were leaving,” Bo Katan explained, still keeping you feet from Paz.

You schooled your expression as Paz laid Din on the ground, followed by a pained groan muffled through the modulator. You pushed off Bo Katan, crouching down to inspect the wound.

“You couldn’t have fucking helped him?” You yelled at Bo Katan.

She pulled her helmet from her head, her eyes filled with anger as she glared down at you.

“We barely made it out of Oba Diah alive,” she explained. “They hunted down our ship through the atmosphere and nearly shot us down. You’re lucky any of us survived.”

You shot to your feet, jabbing a finger into her breastplate, followed suit by Koska raising her blaster at you. You paid no mind to the weapon in your face as you barred your teeth at Bo Katan.

“Do you want his help for your own mission?” You cocked an eyebrow. “Then help.”

“He doesn’t want our help,” she argued. “He kept asking for you. So you help him. He’s no good to us if he’s injured, so the sooner he can heal, the sooner he can fulfill the side of his deal.”

You could barely contain your anger as you snapped your head toward Paz. You pointed to Din’s weak body and gave silent instructions to lift him.

“Bring him to the Crest,” you ordered. “I’ll take care of him. All of you need to fucking leave.”

“Remember, little one, he did this all for you,” Bo Katan said.

Her words were close to breaking you, but you wouldn’t give her that power. You had hated her from the start, and in that moment, you really fucking hated her. You hated her for the reminder that you were the reason Din had gotten into the mess, and more importantly, you were the reason he was injured. You’d carry that guilt for your life.

It took both you and Paz to carry Din up the ramp of the Crest, Din moaning with each step. He had mumbled your name a few times as you held his side, forcing tears to sting your eyes. He was alive; that was the important thing right now. Once Paz situated Din on the floor of the cargo hold, you screamed at him to leave and waited until the ramp closed to finally lose your shit.

You held Din against your body, his helmet tipping to the side, the cold metal grazing your skin. The coldness of it stung, eliciting a wince from your mouth, but you pushed past it as you came to wrap your arm around his shoulder. Glancing down at his side, you peeled his hands away, exposing the gnarly gash. It was still slowly leaking blood, the tear in his pilot suit soaked in crimson colors. The fabric itself was seared away, the weapon that caused it far more violent than a standard blade.

“Vibroblade,” he choked out, answering your wondering thoughts.

Your eyes shot up to the helmet, watching as it rocked to each side, his focus fading quickly. Your hand squeezed his bicep, forcing him to stay focused on you. You examined the wound again, seeing that it had penetrated through the thickest layer of his skin. It would need more than bacta spray and a med patch, but you would try what you could to suture it.

Din let out a low groan, his helmet smacking back against the wall.

“Hey!” You snapped. “Mando, you gotta stay with me, alright?”

“Din,” he sighed. “We’re alone.”

Your head rested against his arm momentarily, your pulse thumping in your ears as you tried to assess the situation. Fingers reaching up under his cowl, you pressed against his jawline, feeling for a pulse under his sweating skin. It was there; it was faint. No matter what, he had to stay awake and alert.

“Din,” you whispered. “Din, can I take your helmet off?”

He didn’t respond, his muscles growing lax under your hold.

“Din!” You hissed frantically.

Without a response and permission, you pressed the latches on either side of the helmet, letting it crash against the metal floor as you tossed it aside. The chestnut curls of his hair stuck to damp, tanned skin, the remnants of battle plastered across his face. His brows were furrowed in apparent discomfort, thick eyelashes fluttering as his eyes remained shut. You swiped a finger over his cheek, collecting a rolling trail of sweat as it fell from his brow. In any other situation, you would be pressing your lips against his urgently, but this wasn’t the time.

“Din,” you said quietly, “I’ve got to get the bacta spray, okay? I’ll be right back.”

He grunted in response, his lips twitching as if to say something. You halted, waiting for any sound to leave his pursed mouth. But nothing came. Leaving a chassed kiss on his forehead, you found your way to the refresher to grab the med kit, thankful he had restocked it when you arrived on Nevarro. Collecting everything you needed–wound cleaner, bacta spray, sutures, med patches–you rushed back to Din, watching as his chest rose and fell softly.

“You still with me?” You asked. Your hand came up to cup his cheek, his body leaning into your touch slightly.

“Hmph,” was all that came from his mouth.

“Good enough for me,” you sighed.

Eyes roaming back to the gash on his side, you tore away more of the suit’s fabric to make enough room for the wound cleaner. Dumping the liquid onto your hands, you started massaging it against the soft skin covering his ribcage. Din grunted as the liquid stung his open wound, the chemicals working overtime to sanitize the extremity of the injury. It would be a miracle if he came out unscathed from an infection. The more your hands worked around the skin, the more he flinched away.

“Stop fucking moving,” you snapped. “I can’t help you if you keep jerking away from me.”

You hadn’t meant to be so mean, but it was the underlying worry bubbling to the surface. You weren’t mad at him; you were just mad. Mad that it was your fault he left in the first place. Mad that his fixation on killing Kesi led him to be attacked by the Pykes. Taking a moment to breathe, you wiped your hands on your work pants, the caked-on blood smearing across the linen fabric. That was never coming out, you thought to yourself.

Realizing you forgot a towel, you improvised, ripping apart your shirt to clean off the skin around the wound. Din winced again, this time his body twitching away from you as you touched him. Reaching a hand up to his neck, you tried soothing him, only for him to respond otherwise. With a violent grip, Din grabbed your wrist, the leather of his gloves digging into the tendons of your forearm. Yelping in pain, you glanced up, seeing his eyes set ablaze in anger and confusion. Twisting your arm harder, he hunched over you, face moving closer to yours with each constriction.

“Hey!” you cried, “Din, it’s me!”

Still, he was unwavering, the anger too blinding for him to see past. You used all your strength to pry his fingers from your arm, only to be matched with the same strength from his own, pinning you further against the ground. You pleaded silently, watching the emotions stir within the brown of his eyes. Glimpses of reality flickered back and forth, the hold of the past a stronger vice than the present.

“Din!” You nearly screamed.

That caught his attention.

Ripping your arm from his loosening grip, you stared at him in stunned silence, rubbing the finger marks that bruised your wrist. His eyes washed over you, up and down… up and down, until he settled on your face with an apologetic look. Your name fell off his lips with a broken rasp.

“Yeah, I know,” you sighed, the anger in you simmering, “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“I hurt you,” he said, hand lifting to hold your face.

You batted it away, grabbing the bacta spray and giving his wound a long coating of the medicine. He yelped in pain, the initial shock of the chemicals stunting him from speaking again.

“No more than getting yourself hurt,” you snapped. You resprayed the medicine, his body flinching from yours. “You should have never done this. I wasn’t worth this.”

“Angel,” He choked through a few breaths.

“Don’t,” you whispered. “You know I’m right.”

“I needed to do this.”

Frustrated, you laughed, tossing the bacta spray half away across the hold until it clattered against the refresher door. Din’s head turned from the bottle to you, his brows knit with confusion. Peeling away the backing of a med patch, you smoothed it over the wound, rubbing it over and over mindlessly. He winced again under you, this time locking his fingers around yours in an attempt to stop your sadistic behavior.

“Enough,” he rasped.

“If you had just let it go, you wouldn’t be hurt. You should have stayed,” you continued, talking through your anger. Your hand smoothed the patch down over and over and over again until he finally squeezed your fingers until the bones ground together. You yanked your hand away, sitting back on your heels as you watched him analyze the bandaged cut. With med supplies covering the ground, half your shirt torn off, and his helmet missing, you could finally see Din piecing together the situation you had been left in.

He sighed.

“He deserved to die, angel. I swore I’d go after him, and I’m sorry I got hurt. There would always be that risk of getting hurt, and I’m sorry it happened,” he conceded.

You paused, watching as his eyes batted themselves close. His lips parted slightly, chapped from the oxygen intake over the last several minutes. Every inch of his face was covered in exhaustion and pain, the worry lines in his skin far more prominent than ever. Reaching up again, you thumbed over the small patches of gray in his beard, rubbing it softly as the corners of his mouth twitched into a smile.

“What’re you smiling for?” You grumbled, pitching the coarse hair between two fingers.

Peaking out one eye, Din stared you down, capturing you in the dark brown of his eyes.

“You’re beautiful. And I missed you.”

“And you’re lucky to be alive,” you rolled your eyes. “You’re an idiot. You had me scared that I would lose you.”

Din wrapped an arm around you, hugging you gingerly to his side, exhaling your name. You took careful consideration in not leaning against the freshly cleaned wound, your weight leaning more into his shoulders than anything else. He huffed a long sigh, his lips connecting with your forehead for a long, thoughtful kiss.

“Thank you for taking care of me. I’m sorry you had to in the first place.”

“You left me no choice.”

Several moments passed without a response from him, the only sound being the light buzz of the cargo hold. His body rose and fell softly with each passing breath, his face finally softening as he rested. As long as his wound was cared for, he could rest, and you would let him. Peeling yourself out of his arms, you cleaned up the mess of supplies in the quiet, retiring to the cockpit to sit in silence.

Above all else, you were mad at yourself. You could pin your anger on Bo Katan, but it was useless. You could easily pin your anger on Din, but you knew the reason behind his actions. He promised you freedom; he promised you Kesi would be caught, and that’s what you wanted, right? It had been everything you wanted, yet seeing him injured and hurt made you rethink it all. Was this how he felt after the attack on the Crest?

But this was different. He had the help of three other Mandalorians and still came out injured. This could have been avoided if you hadn’t even been introduced into his life in the first place, but you wouldn’t let your mind roam to those invasive thoughts. Feeding into those thoughts brought you right back to that instinct to run. All you did was ruin everything around you, regardless of Din’s own choices; ultimately, it was your fault. Yes, you were free now, but that didn’t wash your hands clean of the blood on them.

Hours passed before you heard rustling in the cargo hold. Climbing down from the cockpit, you found Din in the refresher, the sound of water softly echoing beyond the door. His armor and flight suit were piled on the bed, and his weapons belt hung inside the armory across from the refresher. Your eyes lingered on the blood covering the beskar armor, a chill running up your spine at the thought of what he did. Kesi was dead—more than dead, by the looks of it.

The steam of the refresher left the cargo hold warm and humid, and the idea of warm water on your body seemed much better than staying in the freezing lower deck.

Stripping out of your torn and bloodied clothes, you slid open the refresher door, the soft hiss of it closing lost beneath the sound of the falling water. Behind the fog and steam, you could see the silhouette of your bounty hunter, his tanned skin glistening from the water. His back was to you, giving you a complete view of his broad shoulders. While his hands worked their way through his damped curls, you could see the flex and movement of his back muscles, along with the scatters of scars that covered his skin in clusters. Small slashes from past battles, memories of bounties, years of fighting… all displayed in an array of darkened marks against his skin.

Finding your way into the small space, you hugged your body against his, wrapping your arms around his torso. You could feel the way his body tensed and released as he adjusted to your chest flush with his back. He was warm, and you inhaled the lingering smell of gunpowder and sweat on his body. His hands snaked around your arms, fingers trailing down to interlock with yours. Your mouth roamed over his skin, kissing each scar as you moved across the planes of his shoulder blades. His fingers squeezed yours, drawing your own hands to his lips. With each kiss you placed, he left his own on your fingers, his soft lips covering you in tender kisses.

“C’mere,” he said, pulling you around to face him.

His eyes were soft in the dim lights of the refresher, his eyelashes covered in water droplets as he looked down on you lovingly. Din roamed his hands over the curves of your body, squeezing your hips as you leaned back to dampen your hair. Feeling him press against you, you pulled him down to meet your lips, the water falling over both your open mouths. Noticing him harden against your leg, you leaned into him, eliciting a soft moan from his lips.

“Let me take care of you now,” he rasped, his mouth nipping at your jawline. “Let me make things better.”

A warmth spread low in your body in response to his words, wetness growing between your thighs as his hand trailed lower. He brushed a finger up your inner thigh, a shiver running through your body as you bucked against his hand.

“Din,” you said breathlessly.

Din had you pressed against the wall in one smooth motion, the cold tile stinging your skin. His hand coaxed your thighs further apart, a calloused finger drawing hard, slow circles around your clit. Keening, your head fell against his chest, your core clenching at each movement of his fingers. He responded to your growing whimpers as he slipped a thick finger between your wet folds, curling it deep inside you until you released a loud moan. Slipping another finger in, Din pushed his hand further against your wet cunt, his thumb finding itself comfortably against your clit. A blinding ripple of pleasure clouded your vision as your nails dug into the tensed muscles of his biceps.

“Right there,” you panted, hips pushing forward to feel the curl of his fingers in the deepest part of you.

A growl vibrated through his chest as his fingers moved at a rougher pace, drawing you right to the brink of your orgasm. Letting out an exhausted cry, you clenched around his fingers, grinding your hips against his hand until his fingers were covered in your juices. As he pulled his fingers from you–drawing a small gasp from your lips–he bent down to meet your lips with a passionate kiss. Teasing your own open wider, Din deepened the kiss as your name fell off his tongue in a soft admission.

He was insatiable.

But you had other plans.

Using what little strength you had, you pivoted until he was pinned against the wall, his pupils blown wide with lust. You rubbed your hands over the expanse of his broad chest, fingers curling through the hair that covered his tan skin. You made sure to avoid his bandaged wound, seeing a small stain of blood leaking through the med patch. Kissing over his sternum, you let your weak legs draw you down, a trail of kisses leading the way as you positioned yourself on your knees. The placement of the water behind you hit your back in warm waves, the pressure of it soothing you as your fingers dug into the dip of his pelvic bone. Din let out a soft groan, his eyes never leaving you as your tongue danced over the soft flesh of his stomach.

He was achingly hard by the time your mouth roamed to his cock, the tip leaking with precum already. Leaving gentle kisses along the length of his cock, you gazed upwards to find him wrecked with wanton need. You were working at an agonizingly slow pace, and he was at your disposal. With the tip of your tongue, you drew a long, steady line from the base of his cock, a deep shudder echoing through his body. His hand tangled itself in your hair, his fingers scraping against your scalp as he urged you to take him in your mouth. Letting him guide his cock into your mouth, you suppressed a moan as it hit the back of your throat.

“Fuck,” he exhaled.

He thrust into your mouth, slow at first, then picking up speed as he felt your lips adjust to the girth of his cock. Your eyes stayed trained on him, watching as his jaw fell slack each time you swallowed him. You felt his body as it began to tense up, the peak of his orgasm straining through his muscles as he tightened his grip on your hair. You circled his cock, the sensitivity too much to bear as he finally spilled himself into your mouth. Swallowing hot ropes of cum, you waited until he softened to release him, a string of saliva connecting from the head of his cock to your wet lips. Grinning up at him, you kissed the soft skin of his thighs, sitting back on your heels as the water cascaded over your scalp.

Your rest didn’t last long as Din reached down, gripping your elbow and yanking you back to your feet. His lips were on you, hot and urgent, as his tongue dipped inside your mouth. He moaned deeply into the kiss, the salty taste of his cum still lingering on your tongue. His fingers dug themselves into the plush curve of your hips, their grip bruising and rough as he laid claim over you.

You mewled against his lips, your hands tangling themselves in the curls at the base of his neck, tugging softly as you felt his cock harden against your thigh. His mouth roamed down your neck, sucking marks into the skin–marks you knew would still be there tomorrow. You gasped as his teeth sucked down into the sensitive flesh between your neck and shoulder blade, just as his hands urged your thighs around his waist. With little effort on his end, Din hauled you up until your ankles were crossed at his lower back, your thighs widening to brace against his hips.

“You want me to show how badly I need you, angel?” He whispered, his voice low. “Need me to prove it to you?”

“Please,” you begged.

Taking himself in his hand, Din coated himself in your slick, splitting you open as he buried himself to the base of his cock. A cry escaped your lips as a hum of satisfaction left his. With a hand on your ass and the other braced against the wall, he thrust into you with violent strokes, each one hitting your core in blinding precision. He knew the exact spot that halted your breathing and left you wordless with nothing but high-pitched whines.

“This is how badly I need you,” he gritted. “I fucking need this cunt; I fucking need you. Fuck, so good for me.”

You cried out, your body clenching as the ache inside your stomach grew until you couldn’t contain it anymore.

“Din!” You sobbed.

He was relentless, his thrusts more brutal with each force into you, and you could feel the tears spilling down your cheeks as you came. Your cunt pulsed hard as you clenched around his cock; his strokes halted as you squeezed around it. There was a choked sound lodged in his throat, and his own body tensed as he spilled himself inside you. His nails dug into the plush skin of your ass, his body grinding against your wet cunt as you continued throbbing around him. He hung his head a moment, mouth open as he panted heavily. Your own body was wracked with pleasure, a sting of pain coursing through your cervix from how cruel his movements were. As he slipped out of you, you could feel the mixture of your cum spill down your inner thigh, the spraying water washing it away as he guided you back onto your feet. The soreness in your thighs now would be thousands of times worse tomorrow, but you didn’t mind.

You liked the reminder of him.

“I love you,” he said, kissing your head softly. “I’m sorry for scaring you today, but I’m not sorry for what I did. You’re free now… you’re free.”

Fresh tears clouded your eyes as that realization settled in. You were free, and you were his.

“Thank you,” you sighed. “I love you.”

You glanced up at him, your bounty hunter, eyes aglow as he looked down on you. A gentle smile played on his lips, yet it didn’t fully meet his eyes. You could tell he was in pain as your eyes wandered down to his wound, seeing blood soaked through the med patch far more than you recalled from moments ago.

“You won’t heal if you keep fucking me that hard,” you teased.

“I guess I’ll never heal then,” he countered, pulling you flush to his chest.

You laughed, tilting your head to meet his lips.

“Let me clean this up,” you said, hands resting on his shoulders.

“Later.” It was a warning. “I’m not ready to heal up just yet.”

Later, you’d ask him about Oba Diah, but you only wanted him and that taste of pure freedom.

#mando x reader #mando x f!reader #the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #mando #mandalorian fanfic #star wars fanfiction #ao3 #tw blood and gore #tw violence #wound care #sex makes everything better right?

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doumadono · 9 months

Note

Hiiiii, sweetheart.

Emergency Request here...

As you may know I got stood up by a a person I considered... My friend. The person was my friend since junior high school, despite some "turbulence" in past I kept in touch with her.

I got stood up on New Year's eve. I prepared something warm to eat, snack, drinks... I even planned some nice movies to watch and games to play... And she didn't show up nor she picked her phone. I saw her being online but that's all...

Eh, I feel a little pathetic if I can be honest.

I just... I need some comfort from Erasermic... I just want my two fav men to cuddle me or something like this.

Proszę, dziękuję i pozdrawiam. 🐺💎

Our very own New Year's Eve - Erasermic x Reader

A/N: I'm still angry that you had to go through such a disappointing experience, especially from someone you considered a friend for so long (but I told you before what I think about her). Your effort to create a warm and welcoming New Year's Eve atmosphere speaks volumes about your kindness and thoughtfulness. It's completely understandable to feel hurt and disappointed. Please, don't waste you time on someone acting like a total jerk. I hope this little piece will cheer you up, even if a little bit ♥

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST

As the early morning light streamed through the windows, Aizawa and Yamada returned home after celebrating the New Year's Eve with their fellow UA teachers. The sight that greeted them was unexpected - you curled up on the couch, a gentle sob escaping your lips as you cradled one of your cats on your lap.

Aizawa's brow furrowed with concern, his strict demeanor ready to address the situation, but Present Mic placed a calming hand on his shoulder, guiding him to the side. "Shota, let's figure out what's going on first." In a hushed tone, Present Mic whispered to Aizawa, "Our kitty is visibly upset, and the last thing she needs is us being stern. We need to show her love, not discipline."

Aizawa's usually stern expression softened, concern etching lines on his face.

Yamada, with his ever-present energy, approached cautiously. The sight of you in distress tugged at his heartstrings. "Hey, kitten, what happened?" Mic's voice was gentle as he sat beside you, his hand reaching out to stroke your hair.

You looked up, tear-stained eyes meeting his concerned gaze. "I-I got stood up by a friend," you managed to choke out, the hurt evident in your voice.

Aizawa's brows furrowed, a protective instinct rising within him. "Why didn't you call us? We would have come back immediately," he said, his voice tinged with a mix of anger and worry.

You sighed, a shaky breath escaping your lips. "I didn't want to ruin your night. You were having fun with your friends."

Aizawa's stern expression softened slightly at your words.

Mic was quick to intervene. "Babe, your happiness is our priority. You should've called. We're a team, remember?" Hizashi took your hand, squeezing it reassuringly, while Aizawa wrapped his arms around you in a protective embrace.

"We're here for you, always," Aizawa murmured, his usually gruff voice surprisingly gentle.

Mic planted a soft kiss on your forehead. "Let us make it up to you. How about a New Year's celebration of our own tonight? We'll have dinner, music, drinks — whatever you want."

You looked up, confusion evident in your eyes. "But New Year's Eve is already over."

Mic grinned, his infectious energy returning. "Who cares? It's our house, our rules. Besides, I'm declaring a second New Year's Eve celebration tonight. We're going to make it unforgettable."

Aizawa rolled his eyes but couldn't hide a small smile. "He's impossible, but he's right. We'll make sure you have a fantastic night to remember."

And so, the duo spent the morning turning your living room into a makeshift celebration space.

In a hushed conversation away from your earshot, Present Mic convinced Aizawa that showering you with affection was the best way to ease your pain. "Let's show her all the love we've got," he insisted.

Present Mic, determined to lift your spirits, took charge in the kitchen. He prepared a feast that would rival any high-end restaurant, showcasing his culinary prowess. The savory aroma filled the air as Aizawa joined in, silently supporting his friend's efforts. The dining table was adorned with an array of dishes, each one carefully crafted to appeal to your tastes.

As the evening progressed, Hizashi decided to add a sweet touch to the celebration. "Hey, sweetheart, how about we make those chocolate cupcakes you love?" he suggested, an optimistic glint in his eyes.

Despite your initial reluctance, the sadness pouring out of your existence, you found yourself nodding. Hizashi guided you through the process, his infectious enthusiasm turning the task into a shared experience. Mixing ingredients, laughter echoing in the kitchen, the cupcakes baked to perfection, their rich aroma adding to the ambiance.

After the delicious dinner and sweet treat, the three of you migrated to a cozy set of couches. Hizashi pulled you gently between them, his arm enveloping your shoulders. Aizawa's legs intertwined with yours, his rough hand tenderly caressing the curve of your hips.

Present Mic pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, whispering, "You mean the world to us, you know that, kitty?"

Aizawa added, "We're here for you, no matter what."

You felt a comforting warmth envelop you, surrounded by the two men you cherished. The presence of your cats, peacefully napping nearby, added to the serenity of the moment.

"Tonight's about leaving behind what hurt you and embracing what brings you joy," Hizashi murmured, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your arm.

Aizawa, not one for excessive words, simply nodded in agreement, his gaze conveying a depth of understanding.

The ambiance in the room was a delicate blend of warmth, laughter, and the lingering scent of chocolate cupcakes. As you snuggled between Aizawa and Present Mic, the conversation continued, weaving an intricate tapestry of shared moments.

Hizashi, his voice gentle, broke the silence, "You know, those cupcakes taste even better with your smile."

Aizawa, offering a rare smile, added, "He's right. Seeing you happy makes everything worthwhile."

You couldn't help but smile, feeling a surge of gratitude for the two men who had orchestrated this evening of comfort and joy.

Yamada grabbed a throw blanket, covering the three of you as you leaned into his embrace. "Now, let's continue this night with some chill vibes," he suggested, grabbing the remote to cue up your favorite show.

As the opening notes of "Home Alone" filled the room, Hizashi's fingers tapped the tip of your nose. "One of the best holiday movies, right?" he mused, his eyes reflecting the flickering light of the TV.

Aizawa, arms still wrapped around you, chimed in, "Classic. The kid's resourcefulness is impressive. If my class was in charge there, those burglars would pray to be sent right into the Tartarus."

Shota's remark caused Hizashi to choke on the sip of his coke. "Shota, dear Lord, ease up on the kids. They're nice kiddos!"

"Yeah, I wish they could ease up on me, so I could get some damn rest," the black-haired man grumbled.

You giggled, resting your head on his chest, rising and falling slowly with each breath he took.

The movie played in the background, the familiar scenes casting a nostalgic glow over the room.

You released a contented sigh as the movie came to an end. "Boys… Thank you."

"That's not the end!" Hizashi grinned at you, leaping out from under the covers, leaving you exposed. You nuzzled closer to Aizawa, seeking warmth.

Aizawa's hands reached around to your back, rubbing it gently as he planted a tender kiss on your lips.

Just as Present Mic returned, he huffed a little, looking a tad offended. "I was gone for thirty seconds, and you're already claiming our girl yours, Shota?!" He presented you with three glasses and a bottle of champagne. "I was keeping this hidden for a nice occasion, and it arrived today! Shota, come here and open it for me. You know I'm a bit clumsy."

Aizawa efficiently opened the champagne, the cork popping with a satisfying sound. He poured the sparkling alcohol into the glasses, handing one to you as you gracefully got up.

Present Mic, raising his glass, declared, "To you, my loves! To my sweet, charming kitty." He reached his free hand out, rubbing your cheek, "And to my one and only, handsome as hell Eraserhead." He grinned at Aizawa.

Shota acknowledged with a nod. "To you guys. May this year be better than the last."

You raised your glass, a smile playing on your lips. "To my handsome pro heroes, always ready to serve and protect. To my two absolutely cute boys that can turn into wild tigers in the sheets!"

Aizawa scoffed a little, but Present Mic playfully pointed out, "Look at that, kitty, you made Aizawa blush!"

Shota downed his champagne and glared down at you, his thumb rubbing against your lips. "So how about we move to the other part of the celebration now, kitten?" His tone was low and seductive, causing a familiar tingling in your abdomen.

With a mischievous grin, you nodded. "Yes, please. Let's celebrate our very own New Year's Eve." You bit your lower lip, adding, "I can't wait."

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mint-yooxgi · 2 years

Text

{12} - Hotel California - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Based off of This ask and Hotel California by Eagles

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humor

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Wooyoung & Yeosang, slight Jongho & Mingi)

Words: 13,562

Warnings: Sexual tension, a whole lot of it. Mentions of violence, some insecurities. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: The song that Yeosang plays for the OC is from The Two Towers, and is the first 1:30 or so from The King of the Golden Hall. It’s the main Rohan melody found throughout the series. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy the chapter, you should all know what and whom to expect for the next chapter *wink wonk* by the time you’re finished reading this. Hehehe, let me know your thoughts! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Main Story - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Mini Masterlist

The remainder of that same day is spent resting and catching up on sleep. That headache didn’t want to seem to break until late that same night, and once it did, the tremendous amount of relief you felt was insane.

The guys all noticed, of course, immediately offering to take your pain away and heal your headache. Only, you refused, saying you probably just needed some sleep. You had too many things on your mind to think about, so you figure that that’s probably what all the stress had been from, anyways. Plus, you have the added fact about Miyeon and the danger she poses.

Now, you aren’t dumb. You figured that they would have many, many exes and past relationships given who, and what they are. If they didn’t have at least ten significant others in all of their long years of living, you would be extremely curious as to why not. Still, you never expected their latest ex to hate your guts, more than likely wanting to kill you in the most brutal ways she knows how.

What a sad life that must be, to not be able to move on after twenty long years, and recognize one’s own faults. Clearly, Miyeon is incapable of self-reflection, but then again, she’s probably incapable of realizing a lot a things about herself if that’s always been the way she’s treated them. She is nothing but a narcissist, seeking that validation through manipulation, and believing that she can do no wrong.

When the next day comes, you still find it difficult to get out of bed, except to do the basic things like eat and bathe yourself. All you want to do is rest, your mind exhausted from all of this new information presented to you in the past week alone.

The guys are good about it. Giving you your space when you need it, but still making sure to check in on you every now and then. You’re still a little colder to Seonghwa, Hongjoong, and Jongho, though. A fact which the three know they all deserve, but still makes their hearts pang in their chests when it happens.

At least you never went back to ignoring them.

San, on the other hand, is constantly kissing up to you now. Every day, he’s making you your favourite meals, and showering you in praises and apologies. Granted, he didn’t surprise you as much as Jongho did when he originally voted ‘no’, but he did sound a bit hesitant to you when he said it, and he’s shown the greatest amount of remorse since the incident. The quickest, too. At least, in your opinion.

You’ve noticed a change within you, as well. The other four, certainly, you’ve grown closer to, but there’s a deeper understanding between you all now - a deeper trust. You even go so far as to begin smiling when you see one of them pop their head into your room, your eyes lighting up as they ask you how you’re feeling. Though, none have experienced quite the change as Yunho and Yeosang have.

If someone had told Yunho that you would be suddenly brushing up against his mind more often, let alone speaking to him through your connection over the next three days at the very start of your relationship - if you could have even called it that - he would have laughed in their face. Even now, on the fifth day after the mall incident, as you link your mind to his once more to show him an art meme you found that he might like, he cannot help but swoon. Finally, you’re opening up to him, just as he has always been ready and willing to open up to you.

He just wishes you’d come to see his art room, but he supposes that that’s all in due time. After all, good things come to those who wait.

Yeosang, on the other hand, is still one of the first ones to get you anything and everything you might need. He’s almost memorized your patterns, recognizing the familiar twitching of your lips when you’re starting to crave your favourite flavour of ice cream in the middle of the night, or even the slight trembling in your hands when you’re aching for another’s embrace.

One thing that they can both agree on, though, is how much more affectionate you are towards them. Even Mingi and Wooyoung have experienced the change, though you still keep a little bit of a closer eye on Wooyoung than the others. It saddens him, but he knows it’s only a matter of time before you’re opening yourself up to him in the same ways the others have already gotten the privilege to experience.

At least he’s not like Hongjoong, Seonghwa, or Jongho for the moment.

Poor Jongho. The one male you had seemed to be the closest to is suddenly the least of your concern now. You used to spend hours with him in the library, either simply just sitting in one another’s company, or discussing some book one or the both of you have read with each other. Now, it’s like all of that progress means nothing, and he knows he only has himself to blame. He just wishes you would talk to him again, instead of giving him short, one word answers, or brushing off his inquires entirely whenever he sees you.

Luckily, with each day that passes, the three of them have slowly been making their way back into your good graces. By the time a week has passed after the mall incident, it’s almost back to what it was like before the argument, just not as intimate. At least you’ve told them that you’ve forgiven them at this point, sternly reminding them about what would happen if a situation like this should arise again.

Both San and Jongho cried at your vindication, and even Hongjoong got a little teary-eyed. Though, none felt their hearts swell with joy as much as the eldest did.

As soon as those words had left your lips, Seonghwa had fallen to his knees, soft cries of gratitude falling like mantras from his lips. It was then that he asked if he could embrace you. A first for the eldest and what you have so often experienced with him.

The moment the confirmation had escaped your lips, his arms were around you. One hand immediately came up to cradle the back of your head as he tucked your face into the side of his neck, while the other wrapped securely around your waist. You felt the tears he had so desperately been holding back finally fall. The tiny droplets began to hit your shoulder once more as he whispered his thanks into your ear, promising you that he would never let you down again.

You had returned the embrace then, softly carding your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck while cooing comforting sentiments into his ear. Along with a joking, ‘you better not’, of course.

They had all chuckled at that, watching as you pulled away to stare deeply into Seonghwa’s eyes. An understanding had passed between you then, and you smiled. You actually smiled at him for the first time in what felt like ages.

All too soon, you were puling away, only to be asked by each of the other three if they could also embrace you.

You agreed, which could not have made any of them happier at that moment in time.

Currently, after a week and a day since the mall incident, you find yourself making your way towards the library, a bag held firmly in your hand. In all of the commotion and fallout of the past week, you have yet to open any of your new albums, or shelf your new books. Which is exactly what you’re going to do now.

Stepping into the library, you make your way over to your specific section, as you so lovingly call it, and place the bag onto the antique coffee table before you.

Excitement thrums through your veins at the prospect of reorganizing your shelves after opening your new albums. It’s been a while since you’ve been able to do so, and you’ve found that it’s always been able to help calm you down; a relaxing way to take your mind off of things for an hour or more, depending on how many new items you have, and how quickly you work. You’re just glad that there’s ample shelf space for all of your things, you were starting to run out back in your old apartment.

Turning to the bag you’ve just placed on top of the table, you start to remove all of the items, spacing them out in neat little piles on top of the desk after sitting on the edge of the couch.

You don’t even hear the door nearest to you opening until you hear a fond chuckle from across the room. Looking up with wide eyes, you see Wooyoung leaning against the side of the frame.

“Want some company?” A small grin tugs at the corner of his mouth as his arms are crossed over his chest, mirroring the exact same position he was in when he asked you such a question for the very first time in the game room.

You cannot help but think back to that moment, a slight upturning of your lips as you do so. He looks much less nervous now than he did then.

“Sure.” You respond. “Though, I don’t know how entertaining this’ll be for you.”

Looks like you might have to tone down your reactions for certain albums when you open them, especially if you pull your bias. The last thing you want is another jealous demon to deal with for the moment. You giggle to yourself.

“Penny for your thoughts, Beautiful?” He quirks a brow as he walks over to you, sitting right next to you on the couch so that your knees are almost brushing.

The best part? You don’t move away.

So, you decide to tease him, a knowing grin tugging at your lips. “I’m just surprised you’re willingly ready to be made jealous.”

“I would never,” his jaw drops, hand coming up to cover his heart as if he’s personally been scandalized. Then, he’s nudging your knee with his own, soft smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t feel like you have to tone down your excitement for me.”

You shoot him an incredulous look, brow quirked and all.

“I want to know more about you.” The way he repeats the same words you said to him merely a week ago with such earnest reflected in his voice has your heart warming in your chest.

“Alright,” you meet his gaze, a softness shining there that he’s only ever dreamed of being on the receiving end before that makes his heart jump into his throat. In a good way, of course. Then, you’re shooting him a playful look, “but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Seeing you happy makes me happy, Gorgeous,” he replies, smiling wide as his eyes fall shut.

You smile back softly, “I appreciate that, Woo.”

Oh, if only you knew how that one simple little word makes his heart thunder in his chest. His head spins at the fact that you’ve just referred to him by one of his own nicknames, the ghost of your lips tingling against his cheek once more.

A shudder nearly runs down his spine. Now, if only he could have you moaning as such beneath him… Yet, he knows: all in due time.

“So,” he begins, shifting closer so that his thigh is now pressed right up against your own, “how do you usually go about this kind of thing?”

“Well, I don’t really have a particular order in terms of opening certain groups first,” you admit, reaching for one of the albums in front of you. “But, I do usually save the albums I’m most anticipating opening until last.”

Wooyoung nods, eyes eagerly watching as your hands unwrap the plastic from the colourful package held in your grip.

There was more than one reason Wooyoung wanted to join you today. Yes, he wanted to spend time with you, and he’s so glad that none of his brothers have decided to interrupt so far. However, he also wants to get more of an idea of how you think. What so many people do not realize, is that every action they make, every word they say, slowly gives away everything about them. All of their fantasies - all of their desires - are laid bare in the subtleties that make up who they are, and how they want to be treated.

He isn’t the master of seduction for nothing.

Every single action you make, every ministration against the packaging, he observes. Even the words you have just uttered ring through his ears as he does so.

You must like to be built up, then. Teasing yourself until you’re finally able to find relief in what you crave most. A relief that Wooyoung is always more than ready and willing to give to you, in any and every way he knows how.

He’s so caught up in his own thoughts, and staring at the delicate way your hands open each album, that he hardly registers that you’ve asked him a question.

“Sorry, Beautiful,” he grins sheepishly, “what was that?”

“I said,” you simply shoot him a playful side-eyed look, a chuckle falling from your lips in the next second, “any luck with finding Miyeon yet?”

“Not yet.” Wooyoung exhales a small sigh through his nose, lips tugging downwards in the corners. “We’re still trying to track her down, but she keeps moving from one place to the next before we can get to her.”

You nod your head in understanding. “I’m sure you’ll find her soon. I have faith in you.” You turn your head to meet his gaze, a soft smile causing your lips to quirk upwards reassuringly. “All of you.”

“Thank you, Beautiful.” Wooyoung cannot contain the pleased hum that builds in his throat. “That means a lot to me.”

Before he can stop himself, or lose the nerve for that matter, Wooyoung places a gentle hand onto your knee, giving it a light squeeze. Of course, he lets his touch linger, especially as he watches you place your own hand on top of his, giving him a soft squeeze back.

Oh, so badly does he want to let out a roar in happiness. You’re touching him. You’re actually touching him! And you’re not pulling away, or tensing beneath his grip. A fact of which only makes him more ecstatic for the moment, the pleasant thrum of his heartbeat echoing in his ears.

In the next moment, he’s shifting his gaze to the three opened albums you have stacked in a pile on the table, keeping his hand resting upon your knee all the while.

“Pull anything good so far?” Genuine curiosity is held in his voice as he asks this.

“So far, so good, but nothing monumental.” You smile back. “These three are only groups I listen to casually, anyways. Now, these on the other hand…” you trail off, motioning to the last five albums you have yet to open, “will be a different story.”

“Which one are you looking forward to most?” He looks over the five items spaced out before you on the table.

There seems to be three groups left, for there are two piles of two albums stacked together, while a singular album lays in between them. You reach for that one first.

“You’ll just have to wait and find out,” you shoot him a wink, and you feel him physically shiver with his leg still pressed firmly up against your own.

So, you like to tease, do you? Though, that fact isn’t all that surprising to him any more. He’s known that since the very beginning. It’s just different when you tease him now, for you’re no longer doing it unknowingly. At least, most of the time. Plus, there’s a greater significance to it now than there was when you were just doing it before just for fun. The fact that you want to tease him, to rile him up and make him go even crazier for you drives him insane. Always, in a good way.

Fuck, he can’t wait for the day when he can properly tease you back. In any and all the different ways he knows how.

Though, that’s not including the times he teases you now. No. Wooyoung wants to be able to build you up, to have you aching for his touch in the best ways until you finally give in to him. He wants you to embrace every primal desire you’ve ever had, and experience a type of pleasure only he can provide for you. After all, he’d do anything for you, including letting you use him in any and every way you so desire. As long as it’s him you’re using, you could do whatever you want, and he would not complain.

“My word, she’s so beautiful,” your breathless voice draws him out of his much too vivid thoughts of laying you down on this couch and kissing you until you’re breathless and clinging on to him desperately, begging him for more.

Wooyoung blinks, eyes focussing on the album you seem to be flipping through at the moment. He takes the opportunity to lean further into you, resting his head on your shoulder as he gazes down at the pictures printed on the pages you keep looking at.

“Isn’t she gorgeous?” You sigh wistfully, turning another page and admiring the photos there.

“Sure, she’s pretty,” Wooyoung shrugs, nonchalantly agreeing with your statement. Then, in the next second, he’s turning his head to stare intently at you, his eyes shining as his chin rests on your shoulder, “but I’ve seen prettier.”

“Psh, sure,” you chuckle, a playful roll of your eyes as you flip over another page. “Who could be prettier than Kang Seulgi?”

Wooyoung hums, his lips tugging upwards gently. “I’m looking at her right now.”

You wish you could deny the way that your heart positively flutters at his words, a heat rising to your cheeks fairly quickly in the next moment. From the way you can practically feel his cheeky smile boring a hole into the side of your face at the reaction you give him, you just know he’s heard your response loud and clear.

“I meant it in a gay way,” you mutter, slightly embarrassed for the moment.

“Oh?” Wooyoung quirks a brow, shifting his body so that he practically drapes himself over you, wrapping his arms around your torso and leaning further into you in the next second. His voice is a low drawl right by your ear as his breath tickles the skin of your neck. “Should I start getting jealous, then?”

At the way he can feel you shiver in his arms, a smug smirk is stretching across his features.

“Depends.” You hum, deciding to play along with him for now.

“On?” The grin that pulls onto his lips is nothing short of devious, loving the way you still have yet to pull away from his embrace.

“If you believe there’s really anything to get jealous over.” You shrug, managing to push him slightly off of you for the moment as you close the album and place it to the side.

You can feel the growl reverberate in his chest as you say this, the pleased sound caressing your ears softly. You chuckle, reaching for the next two albums by the same group.

Little do you know of how significant those words are to Wooyoung. If what he’s interpreting them to be is correct, you’re implying that you would still choose him over this female idol any day. Despite the attraction you may feel towards her, the attraction you feel towards him is stronger, so he has nothing to worry about. Besides, you two share a deeper connection. You always will.

The sound of your voice draws him back to the reality before him.

“Two bitches, two bitches, one Porsche,” you mutter, almost subconsciously to yourself as you unwrap the one album.

Wooyoung snorts, “please tell me that’s not actually how the song goes.”

“The demo did,” you laugh, right along with him. “No, they changed it to ‘Two Baddies’, which, in my opinion, doesn’t make it any better.”

“Is the song any good?” He asks innocently.

“Subjective.” You tilt your head, tossing the wrappings into the bag with the others as you place the album on the table in front of you, flipping to where all the inclusions are. “My bias wrecker looks great this comeback, though- holy fuck!”

The gasp that escapes your mouth as you flip the first photocard around is nothing short of shocked. The way he can see your eyes widen, lips parting in awe has a pout tugging at his features. However, it’s the way he can hear you hum in content, nodding your head in the next moment that has the growl of discontent finally escaping him.

“Who is that?” His eyes narrow at the one photocard in your hand, nearly flashing black as he sees the second photocard displaying the same exact male on it.

“Mmmh,” it’s like you don’t even recognize Wooyoung is even there anymore as your hooded eyes stare at the two cards held in your hands, “Yuta. What a fine ass man.”

Wooyoung’s lips pull back against his teeth in a snarl as he releases you from his hold. The worst part is, you don’t even seem to be registering you’re saying these things. The response is so natural from you, almost as if it’s been ingrained in your mind since the very beginning, that Wooyoung hates every second of it. Why can’t you react like that for him? Why can’t he be the one who has you practically drooling at the mere thought of him?

“What’s so special about him, anyways?” He grumbles, crossing his arms against his chest as he slouches in his spot.

“So, it’s only the males I find attractive that you’ll get jealous over?” You quirk a teasing brow as you place the cards back into the album. “Double standard, much.”

“I’ll get jealous over anybody you find attractive that’s not me,” he tells you, a slight rumble to his voice as he watches you flip through the rest of the inclusions with a soft smile on your face.

“Even your brothers?” You quirk a brow knowingly as you close the album, placing it onto the pile with the others in the next second.

He grins, “especially my brothers.”

“It’s a shame, then,” you hum, a teasing lilt to your voice. “You won’t have a reason to be jealous much longer.”

“Oh?” His heart begins racing in his chest, excitement beginning to pour through his veins as he leans closer into you, eyes briefly glancing down to your lips. “Why is that, Beautiful?”

“Because, Woo,” the way you drawl out his name sends a pleasant shiver down his spine, “I find you extremely attractive, so you have no reason to be jealous over someone who doesn’t even know I exist.”

The growl of pleasure that wants to escape him gets caught in his throat, doing whatever he can to stifle his immense satisfaction for the moment. He can tell you have more to say, and like hell is he going to stop you, especially right now.

“You should know, though, that yes, I can still find people attractive, but looks aren’t what matter the most to me.” You shake your head. “In fact, I don’t really care about how someone looks. It’s their attitude and personality that really attracts me to someone in the end. And Sunshine?” You meet his gaze and his breath hitches in his throat at what he sees swirling behind your eyes. “You’re stunning.”

This time, he doesn’t even try to muffle his pleased snarl, eyes swirling with that all too familiar blackness as his hands find purchase on your waist, instantly pulling you on top of his lap so that your legs rest on either side of him. His grip is desperate, fingers digging into the skin of your thighs as he pulls you in closer, staring deeply into your gaze before his own is flicking to your lips once more.

Only, the way your breath hitches in your throat, your whole body tensing as you do so has him freezing in his spot. He can feel how hesitant your touch is as your hands steady yourself on his shoulders, purposely holding yourself away from him as far as you can for the moment.

A soft breath escapes him, immediately releasing his grip on your thighs in the next moment. His eyes droop, averting his gaze as he squeezes his hands into fists beside him on the couch to prevent himself from shaking until the need to touch you, the need to pull you closer into him until there’s no space between your bodies left, dissipates.

“Sorry, Gorgeous,” he swallows thickly, clearing his throat in the next second. “I got a little too carried away.”

Seonghwa is right. You really do make it so difficult to control themselves around you, in any and every way possible. Looks like he owes the eldest an apology.

You move off of him carefully, sitting back onto the couch beside him with just a tad more space between the two of you than before. A fact which makes his heart squeeze in his chest.

Fuck. Why can’t he seem to do anything right? Three steps forwards, one step back.

“It’s okay,” that all too familiar heat rises to your face once more as you reach for another album, attempting to control the trembling of your own hands. “I’m just-“ you let out a soft sigh, “I’m just not used to it.”

Wooyoung blinks, completely caught off guard by your admission. “Surely, you’ve been desired before.”

It’s not a question, but a statement that falls from his lips.

You shoot him a side-eyed glance, hands momentarily pausing in unwrapping the plastic from the album you’re currently holding. Then, you’re letting out a small sigh through your nose, a slight shake to your head. “Not in the way you all want me.”

For a brief moment, that conversation with Seonghwa all those weeks ago flashes through your mind.

“You lie,” there’s no malice in his voice when he says this, only pure and honest disbelief. “Impossible.”

When you remain silent, he shifts closer to you. Though, he’s cautious, not wanting to scare you away again.

“Have you-“ his voice is gentle, swallowing the sudden dryness in his throat. “Have you ever-“

“If you’re asking about whether or not I’ve had sex before, the answer is yes.” You reply, keeping your gaze locked on the album in your hands as you cling to it for dear life. “Now, whether it’s been satisfactory or not… well, that’s a different story.”

“What imbecile didn’t take the time to learn how to please you properly?” He nearly scoffs.

“You’d be surprised,” you huff, flipping open your album quite pointedly as if you’re recalling the memory right now.

He nearly growls in response until an idea pops into his mind.

“Well, you know what they say,” he hums, a smug look taking over his features as he leans into you, breath once more tickling the shell of your ear as his voice drops, “it takes a true King to know how to please his Goddess.”

The way his words have your breath hitching in your throat has another content rumble building in his chest, eyes swirling with that all too familiar blackness. The way he can practically smell your scent spiking in arousal has his eyelids practically fluttering shut, the ghost of a moan on his lips.

What Wooyoung wouldn’t give to completely ravish you right now. To pull you into his arms and beg you to let him please you in any and every way he knows how. A single touch isn’t enough. A small taste won’t be able to sate him. He wants it all, - your everything - and he wants it bad.

“Tell me, Gorgeous,” he shifts his head ever so sightly, his nose brushing along the column of your neck and causing a shiver to run down your spine. “When was the last time someone had you trembling from their touch? When was the last time someone worshipped you like you’ve always deserved?”

Your heart skips a beat, voice catching in your throat as your lips part in response.

“Tell me,” he hums, placing a tender kiss right over your racing pulse beneath the skin of your neck, and absolutely revelling in the way a shuddering gasp leaves your lips. “Has no one ever taken the time to drown you in ecstasy, focussing solely on your own pleasure, and the intimacy it brings from knowing that they are the only one to touch you like this? To please you in any and every way they know how, making you come over, and over, and over again for them and them alone?”

“Wooyoung,” your voice is breathless, an airy whimper of his name that he’s long since desperately craved to hear fall from your lips. Hearing it now sends a shiver down his spine, his cock twitching excitedly beneath his slacks.

“Because I would do it all in a heartbeat,” his voice is but a low growl on his lips, shifting once more so that he can nip at the skin of your ear, “and I would never expect anything in return.”

Your eyelids flutter closed, your breathing coming in shallow breaths as you attempt to control yourself for the time being. No one has ever said anything remotely like this to you before, and meant it so sincerely. A fact which just makes heat flood straight to your core, liquid fire burning in your veins. The fact that you believe him only adds to the amount of anticipation growing within you at this very moment.

Much to your disappointment, or perhaps relief, he’s pulling away from you while another pleased rumble escapes his chest.

“How about we save that for later, though,” he trails his fingers down your spine, caressing you tenderly as shivers follow in his wake. “Why don’t we start with you telling me about everything that you like? I cannot please you to the best of my abilities if you do not tell me how.”

Though, even without you saying anything, he can already tell the type of effect his words have had on you. You must absolutely adore when your lover is vocal, then. In every way possible, too - dirty talk, moans, groans, growls. Wooyoung is willing to bet you love praise, too, and heartfelt confessions during the moment, especially if your reactions now are anything to go by.

Still, anything and everything there is to know about you, he wants to find out. What better way, too, than to ask?

A moment later and you’re inhaling a shaky breath as your eyelids flutter opened once more. You take a few calming breaths to steady yourself, noticing how he continues to trail his fingers along the back of your spine comfortingly, the touch both soothing and sensual at the same time.

“No one’s-“ you swallow the dryness in your throat, “no one’s ever asked me that before.”

The admission feels like a condemnation as you clasp your hands in front of yourself while leaning forward to rest your elbows on your knees. An image he recognizes from last week as he watches you curl in on yourself in embarrassment.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever cared enough to ask,” you say, your thumbs nervously rubbing over one another.

Immediately, his entire demeanour is shifting and the tension around the both of you lessons. Concern is on his features as his one hand stills on your back, the other reaching over to gently cup you chin using the tips of his fingers, guiding your gaze to meet his. The sincerity and love that you can see shining there has your breath hitching in your throat once more.

“I do.” His voice is firm as he stares deeply into your eyes. “I care. More than you’ll ever know.”

You smile faintly, heart racing in your chest at his words as you feel your entire body relax in his hold. Your eyes briefly glance down to his lips before a small, albeit hesitant, smirk is pulling at your own. “I didn’t think I’d need to explain the female gaze to you."

“The only female’s gaze who is important to me right now is your own, Beautiful.” He breathes out, his skin singing beneath his fingertips where his touches your own. “I want to know everything about you. I want to know what makes that pretty little mind of yours tick. I want to know your greatest desires, and I want to be the one to be able to fulfill them all.”

He swallows, licking his lips in the next moment as his voice drops, his eyes hooding over as his grip tightens against your back. “I want to know every single little thing that drives you crazy, and then I want to drown you in the deepest of pleasures so that you can feel my love, my passion for you in everything that I do. Every touch, every whisper is for you, and you alone. Please, never forget that.”

“Wooyoung,” again, the way you whisper his name, so tenderly as your one hand comes up to cup his cheek, has his eyes fluttering shut, a shaky breath escaping him as he leans into your touch. “I believe you.”

His heart is pounding in his chest, and he’s sure that you can feel it pulsing beneath your fingertips as he watches you begin to lean in. His eyes glance to your lips once more just as he knows yours do the same to his, his tongue darting out to wet them in the next second.

This is everything he’s ever wanted, and so much more. The only thing that would make this moment sweeter is hearing you say how badly you want to kiss him, just as he does to you right now.

Only, before the question of permission can escape his lips, a harsh clearing of somebody’s throat draws both of your attention to the side.

You practically fling yourself away from Wooyoung, and to the opposite end of the couch as you both turn to see Jongho standing there with his arms crossed over his chest.

“No fucking in the library.” His voice is low, accusatory as he glares at his brother across from him.

“I wasn’t-“ you splutter, eyes wide in shock, “we weren’t-“

“Aw, come on, Jongie,” Wooyoung whines teasingly, “you ruin all the fun.”

Internally, though, Wooyoung is more than irritated with the younger male right now. He was this close to finally kissing you after simply dreaming about it for so long, and then Jongho had to go and ruin it for him. Ugh, Wooyoung could just scream.

From the pointed glare the younger sends him, too, a smug upturn of his lips as he takes a seat in the empty armchair across form the two of you, Wooyoung knows that Jongho’s doing this on purpose.

You little fucking shit. Wooyoung glares at him from across the way.

It’s not my fault you’re sitting in the place that I frequent the most. Jongho retorts, flipping open the book held in his hands quite exaggeratedly in the next second and pulling out his bookmark before beginning to read.

Wooyoung is so caught up in cussing his brother out mentally that he doesn’t even register that you’ve managed to recover much quicker than he has. In the next moment, an excited ‘oh’ is escaping you as you finally pull the photocards out of the other album you had unwrapped a little while ago.

Immediately, Jongho is glancing at you from over his book with a fond look in his eyes. “Who’d you get?”

“Jaehyun.” You smile to yourself, placing the inclusions all back into the album before reaching for the final two on the table.

Little do you notice the way both males seem to stiffen as soon as the admission is out of your mouth.

You mean that same bastard that broke her heart? Wooyoung nearly growls audibly.

At least we know which one he is now. Jongho adds.

“Who’s Jaehyun?” Before he can stop himself, the words are out of Wooyoung’s lips.

“Isn’t that just the million dollar question right there?” You sigh, shaking your head. “He’s just an idol I enjoy.”

“Enjoy how?” Jongho quirks his brow at you, doing his best to hide the snarl that pulls at his lips behind his raised book.

“In the same ways I enjoy the other idols I like, you weirdo,” you shoot him a suspicious look. “What are you expecting me to say? That I saw him every weekend for funsies until he broke my heart, and now I’m stuck in a sad bit of unrequited love pining after an idol I can never have?”

The snarls both men release are probably the most feral you have ever heard from them.

“Woah, okay,” you raise your hands, a semi-amused chuckle falling from your lips. “Reminded me not to joke about the idols I like around you guys anymore.” Then, more to yourself, “and here I thought the reaction to Kai and Taemin was bad.”

Wooyoung’s eyes flash at the mention of those two dancers, but specifically Taemin. There you go again, probably thinking about him when Wooyoung is right there, ready and willing to dance for you at a moment’s notice. Not to mention how he literally just admitted to being open to pleasing you whenever and wherever you wanted him to.

“We’re just…” Jongho searches for the right word, “concerned, given the fact that you told Yeosang and I that he broke your heart without a care.”

“Wait,” you blink at him, brow furrowing in the next second, “you thought I was serious about that? Did you also believe me when I said Samantha pushed me off the swings when we were five, and I scraped my knee?”

Jongho shoots you a bit of an irritated look.

“Darling, I wasn’t being serious.” You chuckle, and the use of the pet name has him instantly relaxing in his seat, unlike a certain demon beside you who only pouts at the fact that your attention is no longer on him for the moment.

“We just worry about you, Angel.” Wooyoung replies, a gentle tone to his voice as he looks towards you. “Knowing that you’ve been hurt before drives us insane because we haven’t been there to protect you.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Woo. I really do,” you shoot him a tender smile as you reach for the second last album you have yet to open. “But, you all won’t be able to protect me from everything. No matter how badly you may want to.”

“We can try.” Jongho mutters, flipping the page of his book rather pointedly.

You let out an amused huff, shaking your head in the next moment as a silence settles over the three of you. It’s neither tense, nor awkward as you finish opening the final two albums on the table, a smile painting your features as you manage to pull a few of your biases for Stray Kids, sending a quick pic to your friend as you’ve also pulled one of hers.

Immediately, she’s texting you back, saying she’ll trade you her Lee Know for the Bang Chan you’ve pulled. Of course, you immediately agree, a smile tugging at your lips as she sends you a meme imitating how you usually react to seeing Minho in general.

“Thighs, huh?” Wooyoung’s voice is teasing, the same lilt to his tone as there was when he inquired about a certain knife kink you may or may not have.

At this, Jongho shoots a quick look towards his brother from overtop of his book, sliding slightly downwards in his seat to extend his own legs outwards, emphasizing the thickness of his thighs as he spreads them slightly apart. He nearly smirks when Wooyoung sends him a mental image of that brief flash of your phone screen with a meme of a gold star with ‘goddamn, your thighs are just *positive grunting*’ printed on it beneath a message of your friend saying ‘you when you see Minho’s thighs’.

“Female gaze, remember?” You decide to tease back, a quirk to your brow as you quickly lock your phone before standing back to your feet. Not before sparing a quick glance at the way Jongho is now sitting, of course. In the next second, you’re turning to your shelves. “Now, the fun part!”

The next hour or so is spent integrating your new books and albums onto your shelves, fitting them in nicely where there’s space and moving some things around to categorize them how you like. The two males still keep you company, chatting with you idly to pass the time.

Wooyoung did offer to help at first, but you brushed him off, saying you were okay for now. You admitted you don’t really like other people touching your albums when you shift, because that way if you drop them, or damage them in any way, you have no one but yourself to blame. That is, until near the end of everything, when they hear you swear under your breath.

“Shit,” you sigh, looking back at the coffee table where the last few albums rest as you purposely hold the space open on the shelf for them. You turn to look at the two men already staring at you. “Can one of you-“ you immediately stop, recalling the way your sweater was torn in two by two other eager demons ready and willing to lend a helping hand. “Sunshine, can you please hand me those albums on the table?”

“Of course I can, Gorgeous!” Immediately, he’s hopping up from his spot, a large smile on his face as he reaches for the albums.

“Remember,” your smile is nothing short of threatening, “if you damage them in any way, I will damage you.”

Wooyoung falters for only a moment as he picks up the albums from the table. Then, a sultry grin is pulling at his lips at he walks over to you.

“Promise?” His voice is full of hope, his eyebrows raising at you expectantly.

“Wooyoung!” You gasp, clearly scandalized as your mouth parts in shock, hitting his arm lightly with your free hand as he comes to stand beside you. “I’m starting to think you’re a masochist.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Jongho snorts from his seat, turning another page of his book as his brother shoots him a pointed look from over his shoulder.

Your eyes widen in understanding, a chuckle falling from your lips as you take the albums from Wooyoung’s hand to place them on the shelf before you. A moment later, you take a step back, admiring your work.

“Looks wonderful, Darling,” Jongho appears on your opposite side, hand finding purchase on your lower back as he looks over your shelves with you.

The best part is, you don’t move away, or brush off his touch like the last few times he had attempted to initiate contact with you.

You smile faintly, admiring the detailing of the library once more. Your heart swells in your chest as those all too familiar emotions of awe and gratitude flood your veins, eyes shining as they roam over the shelves of your collection.

“Oh, perfect timing,” you hear a voice from the doorway to your left. “Looks like you’ve just finished.”

Turning your head, you see both Mingi and Yeosang standing there with grins on their faces.

“I did,” you confirm, stepping back towards the table to grab the bag with all your garbage in it to clean it up, only to see it already gone.

“Great!” Mingi grins, sharing a look between his two other brothers standing just off to your right. “Yeosang and I have something to show you.”

“You do?” You blink in mild shock. “What is it?”

“It’s a surprise, My Dear,” Yeosang smiles at you, extending his hand out to you in invitation.

Instantly, you close the distance between the both of you, placing your hand in his. Yeosang wastes no time in interlocking your fingers together, leading you out of the library in the next second with the others following close behind.

Slowly, he leads you through the hallways and back to your own room. Only, you don’t recall closing your door when you left. Which is when you realize that the surprise must be inside, especially given the way Mingi giddily smiles at you when you spare him a glance over your shoulder.

You pause just outside the threshold, anticipation and excitement shining in both Yeosang’s and Mingi’s eyes as they watch you carefully. Both Jongho and Wooyoung stand just behind, also eager to see your reaction to their brother’s gifts. After all, your happiness brings them no greater sense of joy, or pride, especially when they are the cause of it.

“Go on, Starlight,” Mingi encourages softly with a nod of his head. “We’re right here.”

Carefully, you extend your free hand out to turn the handle, entering your room shortly after that. As soon as you cross the threshold, a gasp is escaping your lips.

“No fucking way,” your jaw drops, along with your hold on Yeosang’s hand as you see the giant Snorlax beanbag chair sitting off to the side, a black fuzzy lump curled up right in the centre of it.

The first step you take closer to the cushion is synonymous with the little furry lump’s raise of it’s head, and you cannot help but let your jaw drop. In the next second, an excited squeal is escaping your lips as you cover your mouth with both hands.

“Is that-“ you turn to look at both Mingi and Yeosang, eyes shining in awe. “Is that Kuroo?”

Mingi nods, eyes crinkling at the sides as he smiles widely at you.

At the soft mewl you hear, you turn your head just in time to see the little black kitten with the golden eyes jump off of the giant Snorlax and trot over to you. Happily, he rubs against your leg, beginning to purr quite loudly as you pick him up and hold him in your arms.

“Oh, yes, hello there,” you chuckle as Kuroo rubs his face all along your jaw and neck, purring all the while. “I’m happy to see you, too, Tetsurou.”

At the lick he gives your cheek, you giggle, and it’s one of the most melodic sounds the four men have had the pleasure of hearing, soft smiles adorning their faces as they take in the sight before them. What makes it even better is that in the next moment, you’re turning back around to face them, that look of wonder and awe directed directly at them.

“Which one of you-“ you briefly glance between Mingi and Yeosang.

“I did,” Mingi smiles once more, feeling his heart race as the bright expression is mirrored on your own face, directed straight at him. The fact that he feels you tenderly reach out with your mind to his own in this moment only makes it all the more sweeter.

“And the Snorlax?” You turn to look towards the shorter male standing right beside his brother knowingly.

“Was me, Dearest,” Yeosang nods in confirmation, a loving smile tugging at his features as you send one back. A fact which has Yeosang’s heart racing erratically in his chest.

You walk up to them, a warmth blooming in your chest as you take the time to meet each of their gazes.

“Thank you,” you breathe out, holding Kuroo securely in your one arm as you reach out to place a kiss onto Mingi’s cheek before turning to Yeosang and placing a lingering kiss onto his forehead. “The both of you.”

Mingi’s ears turn bright red, a giddy chuckle escaping him as he brings his one hand up to cover the cheek you’ve just graced with your lips. His fingers press lightly into his tingling skin, heart swelling with love for you and only you. He smiles wide, eyes crinkling naturally in response.

“Of course, Starlight,” his voice is barely above a whisper as he responds to you.

“We’re just glad you like the surprises we got for you,” Yeosang replies with a smile of his own, cheeks warming as he clasps his hands in front of himself almost bashfully.

He can feel his forehead tingling from where you’ve kissed him, and he couldn’t help but to notice how he’s the only one to have ever been graced such an intimacy with you. Sure, three of his other brothers have all received kisses on the cheek from you, but he’s the only one who has had your lips grace his forehead. Besides, if Yeosang didn’t know any better, he would swear that your lips lingered against his skin a little longer than the rest, too.

“I love them,” you reply earnestly, scratching happily at Kuroo’s chin as he continues to purr loudly in your arms. “Now, could one of you hold him? There’s an urgent matter I need to attend to.”

“Of course, Dearest,” Yeosang is already moving to take Kuroo from you without a second thought.

“Thank you,” you grin while handing the kitten over to Yeosang. “Now, if you’ll excuse me for a moment.”

All of the boys share a brief, curious glance with one another as they watch you walk right up to the Snorlax bean bag chair before flopping face first into it with your arms spread wide.

You let out a blissful sigh. “Yeah, this is the life.”

None of them can help the fond chuckles that escape them, projecting this happy memory immediately to the others who are more than willing to share in your joy, even if they’re not in the room. The way your legs seem to be kicking slightly in earnest behind you has warmth flooding their veins, jaws twinging from smiling so widely.

“I think I’m going to have a nap,” you call from over your shoulder, snuggling deeper into the plush comfort of the Snorlax beneath you. “This is way too comfortable to be legal.”

“We’re glad you’re enjoying yourself, Dearest,” you hear Yeosang reply from behind you.

“We’ll let you rest, then,” Jongho says, and you can hear the soft smile in his voice as they begin to exit your room.

Just as Mingi goes to shut your door like you normally do, your voice calling out to him stops him right in his tracks.

“You can leave the door open, Min,” you turn to look at him from over your shoulder and notice the way he freezes with his hand still holding the knob. You smile softly at him. “I don’t mind.”

Mingi nods gently back in acknowledgement, his eyes shining with something you can’t quite understand from this far away. He leaves only a moment later, but not before wishing you sweet dreams, an adoring smile on his features.

Little do you realize the significance of what leaving your door open for them means. The trust alone makes their hearts flutter in their chests, warmth flooding their veins as content rumbles build beneath the surface.

The opening of your door feels like the opening of your heart. To all of them. A fact of which they could not be more grateful for.

Turning back around, you adjust your position on the large plush beneath you, cradling your head beneath your arms as you let out a blissful sigh. Cuddling deeper into the cushion, you close your eyes, letting the darkness consume your thoughts and mind.

About an hour and a half later, your eyes are fluttering open, sleep still clinging to the corners. You yawn, stretching your limbs outwards like a cat would as you rub your neck. Next time, you should definitely grab a pillow or something for extra support.

Shifting slightly, you feel a small warmth at your side that mewls when you move.

A smile tugs at your features as you turn yourself around, allowing Kuroo to immediately crawl onto your chest and curl up into a little ball there. You fingers gently stroke through his fur, giving him soft, gentle scratches as he begins to purr once more. A few minutes later, and he’s fallen back asleep, perfectly content to lay on your chest.

Being stuck beneath a cat, or any animal like this, is never a bad thing. As your fingers continue to mindlessly pet Kuroo, it allows you time to think. All of the events from the past week and a day flood your mind, and that familiar warmth blossoms in your chest.

Despite the minor setback you had, and the major one with Miyeon, you do trust them. More than that, you appreciate their honesty. For, to you, it not only demonstrates the trust that they have in you, but also their respect.

Taking a deep breath in to steel your nerves, you decide it’s time to extend that same curtesy.

You drop your void.

It’s Yunho that notices first. Is everything alright, Petal?

Everything’s fine, you don’t need to panic. You reassure all of them. Don’t be popping up in my room suddenly, either.

Aw, darn, you hear Wooyoung jokingly complain. There go my plans for the evening.

Did you sleep well, Starlight? It’s Mingi’s voice that echoes through your head next, and you cannot help but smile softly, his concern easing some of the tension you can already feel building within.

I did. You hum. Thank you, Min.

You cannot see him, but you just know he’s smiling at you right now.

There’s, uh, actually something I wanted to share with you all. You begin, somewhat nervously. But I want you all to promise me not to come running. It’s nothing bad, I swear. I just don’t want to be crowded, and I’ve already received the comfort I needed at the time. I just- they can all hear you sigh, I just want you all to understand some things about me that I think you all deserve to know.

Did you kill someone? Perhaps it’s just you, but San sounds just a little too hopeful in his inquiry.

What? No! You immediately respond, and you notice how your shoulders relax from the distraction.

You smile softly to yourself as Kuroo stretches, curling deeper into your chest.

Whatever it is you would like to tell us, My Love, know that we are all ears. Hongjoong’s gentle tone resounds in your head, and you can feel the way he reaches out to you to caress your mind tenderly.

Thank you, Joongie, you reply, subconsciously leaning into his phantom touch.

Hongjoong nearly drops the dagger he had been sharpening in his hands. This is the first time you’ve ever referred to him with an affectionate name, and he wants to revel in it. His heart thunders, for more than one reason now.

One of you already knows what I’m about to share with you all, you begin and Seonghwa can already sense where this is going, but I need you all to promise me not to come running.

There’s a brief moment where you can practically feel them all agreeing with one another before one of them is speaking to you in your mind.

We promise, My Love. Hongjoong informs you, a lingering feeling tugging at the back of his mind as to what you might be about to share with them.

Okay. Good. You nod to yourself before continuing. You’ve all been honest with me this past week, and I want to extend that same curtesy to you. I am sharing this memory with you all because I trust you, and I feel comfortable enough to do so. It will hopefully shed a little bit of light on why things have been a little rough to start on my end.

You pause, and they all wait anxiously for your thoughts to return. They can feel the nervousness pouring off of you in waves, the uncertainty in your emotions clear as day. This is a big part of yourself you’re sharing with them, after all. The vulnerability alone is astounding, and each male recognizes that, even before you continue.

Whenever you’re ready, Dearest. Yeosang’s soft voice assures you, feeling him also reach out to caress you tenderly with his mind in the next second.

You lean into his touch more than you realize.

Immediately, all eight of them are plunged into your memory, unfamiliar to all, except two.

“Do you want to know why I reacted the way I did when that happened?” You seem to be sitting inside of Seonghwa’s tailor shop, said man sitting across from you with your sweater held firmly in his hands.

That’s when they all realize: this is what transpired between the both of you that day all those weeks ago. You are finally sharing this memory with them, a fact which could not make them happier as Seonghwa’s own words about this not being his memory to share with them rings through their ears.

Intently, they all listen, hearing your words wash over them as you explain your feelings to the eldest in your memories. Each cannot help the way their breaths hitch at hearing that you actually enjoyed Seonghwa’s ministrations that first day all those weeks ago. A fact which still takes the eldest’s breath away hearing it for the nth time in your shared memories.

The echoes of your conversation from earlier begin to flit through Wooyoung’s mind as he listens to you admit to everything in your memory. No wonder you were so tense when he pulled you into his lap today. No wonder you said what you did.

If each of them could, they would go back in time to comfort you right then and there, pulling you softly into their embrace and whispering sweet nothings into your ears. They would tell you that you have nothing to worry about. That they do want you. You, and only you. Yet, from where this is going, they know Seonghwa’s already beat them to it.

Mingi and San both drop the glasses in their hands as they hear you utter words that could not be more untrue in this memory of yours.

“It’s because I’m not- I’m not beautiful.”

Wooyoung falls to his knees in his room, mirrored exactly by how Yeosang collapses into a chair in his own at this admission. Yunho, who had been working on painting a bouquet of your favourite flowers, drops his brush, managing to spill his paint water all over the floor without even realizing. The book Jongho had gone back to reading tumbles to the floor, his whole body frozen in shock as your words reverberate through him.

The two eldest, who had both been expecting such an admission, are still not prepared for how harshly their hearts squeeze in their chests at hearing you say such an untrue thing once more in your memory.

Unbeknownst to you, tears spring to each male’s eyes, falling freely down their faces as your emotions within the memory wash over them.

The last glimpse they see of the memory is Seonghwa’s look of complete and utter bewilderment before he’s hissing out, “That is the filthiest lie that has ever fallen from your lips and you know it.”

A fact of which they all agree upon.

You end the memory there, choosing not to share with the seven men the words of comfort Seonghwa had given to you at the time. A sort of silence settles over all of you as you let the memory sink in. That is, until you’re breaking it.

Well, now you all know. Your voice is calmer than you feel, inhaling a shaky breath as you hold onto Kuroo’s soft body for support. Do with that what you will.

In the blink of an eye, you’ve closed your mind off to them once more.

San’s reaction is immediate, the sentiment echoed by nearly all of his brothers as he prepares himself for what he’s about to do.

I need to go to her. He’s about to transport to your room despite the promise they all made not to. Until Yeosang is appearing beside him and holding him back. Let me go! She needs me!

We all promised her we wouldn’t disturb her after this. Mingi reminds him mentally, even if he is also having a hard time not running to you immediately and pulling you into his arms, comforting every negative thought in that beautiful head of yours until they are no more.

This is not just difficult for you, San. Seonghwa reminds him.

Says you. Jongho is having a hard time keeping his breathing under control as more tears escape his eyes. You were there. You gave her comfort at the time, didn’t you?

Of course I did! Seonghwa’s response is immediate. Do you think that little of me, brother, that I would let the love of our lives believe such filthy lies about herself?

We never doubted your integrity, Hwa. Yunho wipes at his tears before moving to clean up the spilt water on there ground. Any one of us would have comforted her were we in that situation.

Did anyone else know? Yeosang finally manages to calm San down enough to sit him in a chair, the two clinging to each other practically for dear life as another sob escapes the younger’s throat.

A moment of silence as most of them deny knowing. All, except one.

Captain? It’s Mingi’s soft voice that asks.

I did. Hongjoong admits, staring intently at the dagger held in his hand. I overheard them talking that day, and concealed myself so Hwa wouldn’t know I was there.

When did you get there? Seonghwa asks, a slight frown pulling at his features. Only Hongjoong could sneak up on him like that. No wonder the younger entered the shop at the point he did, acting the way he did.

Shortly after she admitted that she enjoyed what had transpired between the both of you. Hongjoong tells them, twirling the blade slowly in his grip.

And neither of you told us? It’s Jongho who says it, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

It was not our memory to share. Seonghwa repeats his same words from days earlier.

We could have went to her. Wooyoung attempts to reason. We could have done something to lesson those worries in her mind.

I think we already have. Yeosang breathes, stroking a comforting hand through San’s hair as the younger demon finally calms down enough to speak.

She trusted us enough to share such emotions with us. San says, and they can hear the lingering tears still in his voice. She chose to share that memory with us.

All we can do now going forward is make sure that she never thinks - she never believes - such things to be true about herself. Yunho replies, eyes catching on the now dried out flower crown he has hanging on display at the side of his art room.

I’m sure whatever Seonghwa told her was what we all would have said in the moment. Yeosang adds.

It was. Hongjoong confirms. She believed it, too.

How do you know? San questions, genuine curiosity in his inquiry.

We felt it. Seonghwa answers for him. At least, I know I did.

A moment of silence as they all wipe at their lingering tears.

What are we going to do now? Mingi leans against the wall, supporting himself as he runs a hand through his hair.

We’re going to do what we promised her we would, and give her as much time and space she needs until she wants us to go to her, or she comes to one of us. Hongjoong responds. Until that time, just go back to whatever you were doing. Or do whatever you can to pass the time and take your mind off of things for now.

Echoes of agreement sound throughout each other’s minds, each male going off to do their own things to channel their feelings for the moment.

Immediately, Yunho is grabbing a fresh canvas, setting the one with the bouquet of your favourite flowers aside for the moment. If there’s one thing he knows he can do right now, is express himself through his art, and he knows exactly what he’s going to paint.

Grabbing a pencil to begin outlining the figure, a single tear escapes his eye once more.

Artistry be damned, Yunho is going to paint the most beautiful portrait of his life right now, and he doesn’t care if it takes him weeks to do it. By the time he’s done, he’ll have painted the exact way he sees you. A fact which he hopes will make you never question your unfathomable beauty again.

Meanwhile, Seonghwa loses himself in his shop. He grabs a fresh stencil, outlining a design for a new dress, this one even more extravagant than the rest. A brief thought crosses his mind, but he quickly shakes it away. He doesn’t think you’re ready for that type of gift from him, yet. Though, perhaps he’ll still start a set for you. After all, he only wants you to feel as beautiful as he’s always known you are.

By the time he’s done designing and fashioning you an entire outfit like this, you will finally be able to realize the royalty that you are. By the time he’s finished, he’ll make sure you both look and feel like a Queen.

Jongho, on the other hand, begins browsing through the stacks of poetry in the library. He’s always been better with words on paper than with speaking them, anyways. Besides, he’s more of a listener, and he loves listening to you, but perhaps this time, it’s better if you listen to what he has to say.

Pulling some books off of the shelf, Jongho is quick to grab a highlighter and a pen. Once he’s done, he will have compiled an entire library’s worth of quotes from his favourite poems and poets about how he feels about you, and of beauty, life, and love. He will quote them to you as you read them, repeating every annotation he adds in order for you to understand what you mean to him.

There is no greater part of himself that he can give to you than the pieces of his soul scattered throughout his favourite pieces of literature for you to find. For you, and only you.

San, Mingi, and Hongjoong all do what they normally do when they need to relieve some tension from their bodies. They spar, practice, and train.

Hongjoong focusses on throwing his knives, hitting each target and pretending that they are every single person who has ever made you feel less about yourself, or insignificant in some way. He imagines skinning everyone alive who has ever told you such lies and made you believe you are not the most beautiful thing to have ever walked this earth in decades. He only wishes he could kill all of your insecurities in the same ways.

Mingi and San spar with each other, a tangle of emotions and limbs as they clash their weapons against one another. Each male has tears still lining their eyes, not caring how rough or irrational they’re being with their attacks right now. The only thing on their minds is how best to comfort you when you call; how best to protect your mind from such horrid thoughts taking control again.

There are tears in Wooyoung’s eyes as he vents his frustrations out while in the dance studio, the speakers playing some of his favourite songs. Choreographies he’s made for you are second nature to him at this point as he runs through the dances again, and again, and again until he collapses onto the ground in a pile of sweat and tears. The sound of the music barely muffles his sobs, his mind reeling with both your shared memory and what happened with you earlier in the day.

Wooyoung doesn’t regret what he said or did earlier, no. He only wishes he knew. He wishes he could have controlled himself better, or even tried to brush against your mind to see if you would be open to sharing your thoughts in the moment.

He just doesn’t understand how you can’t see how precious you are to him. To all of them. He feels as if they’ve failed you, that he has failed you by not making you see how utterly stunning you are to him - to all of them. He’ll just have to find a way to show you; to make you believe you are both incredibly special and beautiful for the rest of your life.

At the same time, Yeosang finds himself in the music room, picking up the instrument that he loves so dearly. He spends a minute tuning it, making sure everything is properly in its place before bringing the small piece of carved wood and strings up to his shoulder. Raising the bow in the next second, he begins to paint a melody, letting the music guide him through his emotions.

The notes soon begin to flow together, blending into a hauntingly beautiful symphony that cascades around the room as his eyes flutter shut. He’s always had a way of getting lost in the music he creates, and when it now concerns you - the emotions you shared, the memory, and everything that you make him feel, Yeosang cannot help but to let the sombre notes ring out.

The song is hauntingly beautiful, reflecting every emotion that he’s feeling right now for you. The melody itself is you, embodied within his music - how he sees you, how you make him feel, what you do to him. Everything that you mean to him is put into the way he draws his bow across the strings, his fingers pressing into the neck of the violin as he plays this song for you.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been since he’s started, but by the time he hears footsteps approaching the room, the sun is beginning to set behind him. The warm hues of light filter through the large windows as he rounds out the melody, heartbeat racing erratically as he recognizes those soft footfalls to be yours, drawing closer and closer to the music room with each step.

His back is turned to you when you reach the open doorway, and he can feel your gaze staring intently at him as he lets the last note ring out through the air. Slowly, he lowers the instrument to his side, turning to face you in the next moment.

The moment his eyes meet yours, your breath hitches in your throat. The tender love and affection you can see shining there sets your heart racing. Not only that, but the clear concern, and empathy you can see lingering there, too, has a warmth spreading through your entire body.

You smile at him softly, an expression which he returns almost immediately.

“You play beautifully.” You comment, voice a bit airy as your breath escapes you in awe.

That single expression - and admission - is enough to knock the wind right out of his lungs.

“Thank you.” His voice is small, heart catching in his throat as you two stare at one another.

“How long have you been playing for?” There’s an excitement in your voice that he can hear you trying to contain for the moment. A fact which just makes him smile, palms suddenly becoming sweaty at you interest in his other passion.

“A millennia or so,” he admits, running his thumb lovingly over a string as he holds the violin at his side. “Give or take a few centuries.”

“Wow,” your eyes go wide, swallowing the sudden dryness in your throat. “Can I-“ you nervously shift from foot to foot, averting your gaze so sweetly. “May I watch you play?”

Yeosang nearly collapses on the spot. This is everything he’s always wanted, and so much more.

He clears his throat, a soft smile gracing his features as he meets your gaze, “I would be honoured.”

Slowly, carefully, he walks over to your form still standing in the doorway. Extending his free hand out to you in offering, he gently guides you into the room. Your touch, placed so delicately on top of his own, sends a pleasant shiver up his spine, his thumb brushing over the skin on the back of your hand.

“I, uh-“ he clears his throat, helping you sit down on the piano bench at the side of the room, “I actually have something that I would like to play for you. Would that be okay?”

Immediately, you nod your head, eyes lighting up as a smile adorns your features. “I would be honoured.”

It’s the way you repeat his very own words back to him, combined with the way you’re looking at him right now that has a feeling unlike any other spreading throughout his body. It’s a pleasant feeling, yes, but there’s also a lingering sense of nervousness that Yeosang has not felt when he’s played in years.

He says nothing, opting to place a lingering kiss onto your forehead instead before stepping away from you and taking his place once more in the centre of the room. The way he feels you brushing against his mind has him immediately latching onto that feeling, solidifying that connection so that you both won’t be disturbed by the others.

This moment is for the two of you, and the two of you only. Nothing will change that.

With the connection open like this, Yeosang is privy to all of your thoughts and emotions. He can sense the excitement strumming through your blood, making your pulse race beneath your delicate skin. He can feel the anticipation lingering in your mind, curious to hear the song that he wants to play for you. His only hope is that you like it, and that he can do such a song, given it’s meaning to you, justice.

He raises his instrument, bow at the ready, as he shoots you a final smile. A soft one being sent back from you almost instantly.

Taking a deep breath, Yeosang begins to play.

As soon as you hear the first notes echoing around the room, your whole body straightens in your spot. Your breath hitches in your throat, heart leaping in your chest as tears spring to your eyes. Immediately, your one hand comes up to cover your mouth while the other grasps at the jewel shining around your neck.

The beautiful sound of the melody of Rohan fills the air, flooding your senses and comforting you like a warm blanket on a cold day. Your absolute favourite violin melody.

You can feel your entire body trembling as the first of your tears begin to trail down your cheeks, your hands never leaving their positions for even a second. Chills wrack your body as goosebumps form over your skin, the meaning and significance of such a song washing over you in this very moment.

With each rise and fall of the notes, your breath hitches, sitting frozen to your spot as you watch Yeosang lose himself to the melody, his eyes having long since fallen shut.

It isn’t a very long song by any means, the simple melody only lasting a minute, maybe a minute and a half at most. However, the fact that he learned this for you, that he is playing this for you because he wants to, not because you asked him to, or he felt the need to, has your heart swelling in your chest.

More tears trail silently down your cheeks as the final notes ring out in the air between you. You wipe at your eyes, chest shaking as you inhale a breath, your emotions overwhelming you.

Every thought, every feeling, Yeosang understands. His mind is still connected to yours, so every fleeting emotion you felt during his performance, he felt, too. A fact which has his own heart thundering away in his chest as he’s over come by your awe, your gratitude, your wonder, your fondness, but more than all of that, a single emotion he’s never experienced from you before. An emotion that he doesn’t want to assume, or feel for too long, as he doesn’t want to get his hopes up before the time is due.

Wordlessly, you stand to your feet, drying your eyes with the back of your hands. You swallow the lump in your throat, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves.

“Yeosang,” the soft call of his name from your lips is like the gentlest of breezes caressing his skin after a long summer’s day. You begin to step towards him slowly. “Did you-“

You can hardly form the words, but he already knows exactly what you want to say. Even if you both already know the answer, you still want to hear him say it. You need to hear him say it.

“I did.” He breathes, allowing his arms to fall to his sides, his one hand holding both his violin and bow. “I learnt it for you.” A brief pause as he swallows. “I learned them all for you.”

All of your favourite songs. He taught himself all of your favourite songs on the violin for you.

You can hear your heartbeat echoing in your ears as you come to stand in front of him, tongue darting out to wet your lips. A movement, which you notice, that he catches.

Softly, your one hand comes up to caress the side of his face, eyes shining with all of the unspoken words you wish to convey. Not only that, but there’s such adoration and fondness shining there, that he cannot help but stare into them.

He leans into your touch, raising his free hand to gently place it over your own.

“Thank you,” you breathe out, caressing his cheek softly with your thumb. “Yeosang, thank you.”

It’s one of the greatest, most meaningful gifts you could ever give me.

His heart skips a beat in his chest, eyelids fluttering shut as he revels in both your touch, and your praise. Anything for you, Dearest.

Your lips part, glancing down at his own as you subconsciously step closer into him.

“Can I-“ your breath catches in your throat, hardly able to get the proper words out. “May I-“

“Yes,” Yeosang’s eyes are flinging open, a desperation you’ve never seen before shining within as he hears you pose the question in your mind. “Please, Dearest. Kiss me.”

Your lips are on his without another thought, your one hand moving to tangle in his hair as the other continues to cradle the side of his face tenderly in your palm. Without another thought, you deepen the kiss, pulling him in closer as he gently cradles the back of your head with his one hand, his opposite arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you into him.

Yeosang cannot help but let the pleased rumble that builds in his chest escape him as he feels you tug him closer into you. This is everything that he could have ever asked for, and so much more, especially when he hears the small whine escape your throat as he pulls away, teasingly tugging your lower lip between his teeth as he does so.

His eyes fall shut once more as you both lean your heads forward to rest against each other. Nothing can take this moment away from him, right here, right now, with you. He revels in the feeling of your hands against his skin, his lips still tingling with the ghost of yours as he attempts to catch his breath, along with you.

“Dearest,” his one hand tightens its hold on you as he pulls you impossibly closer, overcome by his own emotions for the moment as his lips tug upwards in a brilliant smile. “You are my entire world. There is nothing that I would never do for you. I am so in love with you, I fear I lack the words to describe such strong emotions. You are so unbelievable beautiful, kind, intelligent, and unquestionably perfect in every way. Please, never forget that.”

“Yeosang,” you breathe out his name once more, pulling away just enough to stare deeply into his eyes as a tender smile tugs at your features. A brief pause, until you’re uttering the words that have his heart racing once more in his chest, “I believe you.”

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lovecarisi · 3 months

Text

Mistakes We Knew We Were Making

Chapter 6: Relief

Dominick’s not there when you wake up. It’s almost 11am and your head feels like it’s about to split open. The curtains are still drawn and you’re thankful for the dark room. There’s water, coffee, and aspirin on the nightstand and you swallow pretty much everything within seconds before sinking back down into the pillow. Your stomach is in knots but not from the alcohol. You remember. Not word for word but you remember the gist of it. Fuck. The embarrassment you feel is overwhelming. What the fuck were you thinking? Even for drunk you, this is a new low. Normally you pride yourself in not making a fool of yourself under the influence; you’re usually the drunk friend that keeps all the other drunk friends in check. Damn, you knew as soon as you arrived at this house, as soon as you and Dominick entered this room with your bags that this would be a test and that you would fail miserably. God. And this had only been Day One. Now what would await you? Would he be mad? Sad? Would he call it quits? He would probably volunteer to sleep on the sofa for the remainder of the weekend. Not with that crazy girl he regrettably chose to fuck a few weeks ago who turned out to be a mess. Surprise, surprise.

Wait, was there crying? Did you cry? And did he hold you and did you cry even more when he did? Oh good lord.

A knock on the door. Fuck.

‘It’s me.’ Louisa. Thank God.

She comes in and closes the door. Sits on the bed next to you.

‘I’m guessing you’re as hungover as the rest of us?’ she smiles a painful smile.

‘I sure am. Where’s Dominick? Is he okay?’ you ask, not sure if you’re ready for the answer.

‘He’s downstairs. Preparing for the barbeque. He’s going mental, I can tell you, like crazy. That guy has some mad skills when it comes to food. He’s made some marinade - I don’t know what he put in there but it smells so delicious I wanna bathe in it. So yeah, he’s okay, why wouldn’t he be? Did something happen? Did you break his dick or something?’ she giggles and you sigh with relief.

‘No, we just…I was drunk and said some words. Things. Stuff. I don’t know.’

‘Oh God, what did you say!?!’

‘I’m not sure. Something about him being too good for me. And I might have said that he thinks he has feelings for me but he doesn’t really, and that he will make a good husband for someone one day but just not for me. It was crazy drunk talk and now I hate myself, what can I say. Also I’m pretty sure I started crying because he got annoyed and then he had to comfort me.’

‘Oh honey, no. No you didn’t.’ Louisa looks at you in the most pitying way a best friend can and you feel even more sorry for yourself.

‘Yeah, I did. I feel so awkward. I don’t even know how to face him to be honest. Knowing him, and knowing how fucking good of a man he is, he will definitely pretend he doesn’t remember and I know he remembers because he wasn’t nearly as drunk. So I’m gonna have to pretend that I believe him.’

‘Just fuck it out like you always do.’ she suggests and you nod because obviously, that’s what’s most likely going to happen.

Louisa heads back downstairs and you get up and take a shower. Luckily, you feel slightly better afterwards, at least physically. Now comes the hard part. And you decide to be a woman about it. As you walk into the kitchen, Dominick is still there, preparing food with Louisa’s help but she flees as she sees you coming and you give her a grateful smile. He looks up and you wrap your arms around his waist, and thankfully he leans into you invitingly.

‘I’m sorry about last night.’ you whisper, looking for a reaction from him and he gives you a soft smile. ‘I think I still have a lot of…stuff I haven’t dealt with from my past relationship and I guess that all came up in my drunken state. And I’m sorry I projected that onto you. That wasn’t fair. But you are a good man. And that other man would have taken advantage, so thank you for taking care of me last night. And for not being angry with me.’

You’re not quite sure if it’s the entire truth; whether your past relationship has anything to do with what you felt about Dominick last night. But for now it’s the best explanation you can come up with, for yourself and for him. So you mean it, earnestly. And he turns towards you and hugs you, kisses your hair, and you feel so much relief. There’s so much rawness in this moment between you two, you somehow wish you could take it back but at the same time you savor every second of it.

‘It’s okay, my sweet. I could never be angry with you. And we all have our stuff. I get it. Don’t worry, yeah?’ he assures you and you hug him tighter.

You can tell he’s relieved too, and you’ve been given more time. How much more you don’t know. One month, two, three. Until the end of the summer maybe. Another tremor has passed.

_______________

The rest of your 4th of July celebrations continue on without a hitch. You and Louisa help Dominick finish with the food, he wouldn’t let anyone else touch anything even though the others offer but he shoos them away. In exchange they take charge of the barbecuing and everything is delicious and you have the most fun, relaxed day, this time with a much more controlled alcohol intake. When the fireworks start in the evening, everyone is busy with each other so Dominick pulls you away and up the stairs and there you are again, naked and entangled under the sheets.

Compared to yesterday afternoon, it’s slow and passionate and you hold on to him for dear life, and it’s probably all the emotions of last night, for both of you. You try not to let it get to you but let’s face it, you are not a very good actress.

‘It’s okay.’ he whispers as he sinks into you, kissing you deeply. Is this what Louisa meant when she said ‘fuck it out’?

You shut off your mind and let your body take over, or rather, you let Dominick take over your body. Your legs wrap around him and you focus solely on the feeling of him inside you, his skin against yours, his breath, the way he moans your name. It’s an intoxicating feeling having him this close. If you’re being completely honest with yourself it messes with your mind and perhaps that’s why you prefer the less intimate ways. One could argue that being on all fours and having a man raw you from behind is even more intimate but no, this is it for you. There’s no escaping how he looks into your eyes, how he kisses you; you are trapped, not just physically. Of course it feels wonderful, there’s no denying it. Everything is so intense with Dominick, and in these moments he brings you to the brink of almost forgetting that you are only lovers, not in love. And that is a dangerous thing.

So yes, it’s cute and lovely when you ‘make love’ but you will always try to fuck instead for that exact reason. To avoid the feeling in your stomach you get when your eyes meet and he tells you that there isn’t a minute of the day he doesn’t think of you. And you should feel delighted but there’s regret and guilt you feel when he says it, so you kiss him again desperately so he doesn’t realize. So then you shut off your mind because you’ve had enough of your own fucked up thoughts this weekend and you try to focus on just the way your body feels. And your back arches as Dominick thrusts into you, still slowly but expertly hitting your gspot. He cups your breast softly, telling you how beautiful you are, and you do feel beautiful with him, and you do tell him he’s beautiful too because he is. Your hands grab his arms, tracing the muscles there, up his shoulders, down his back, leaving light scratch marks on his tanned skin, and you know he likes it as he hisses into your ear. You’ve gotten carried away in the past, just looking at him; while he was sleeping, while he was lying next to you in the sun. Giving him up will mean going cold turkey and you know it so you have to enjoy every inch of him as long as you can. You do wish you could stop time.

When you pack your bags the next day it feels surprisingly bittersweet. All the anxiety you felt about sharing a room with Dominick for the weekend has been replaced by sadness that it’s over and you two have to leave your love nest behind. First night’s alcohol-fueled antics aside, it’s been really nice and knowing you’ll never get this back makes your heart sink. He seems to read your mind.

‘This wasn’t so bad.’ Dominick says, grabbing his toiletries from the bathroom.

‘Yeah, well, apart from my little emotional outburst I’d say we did pretty good.’

‘Happens to the best of us.’ he smirks but you still wish you could make it unhappen.

‘I guess we’re not gonna see each other for a while then, huh?’ you’re referring to the Bar of course, and the fact that it’s less than four weeks to the exam and all of you have to study and none of you need distractions.

‘For real? I’d think we need a bit of a, y’know, stress relief, at the end of each day. Like, as a reward.’ he’s standing there with his hands on his hips, all serious and you have to laugh.

‘Okay, fair enough. So a stress relief fuck date every night?’

‘You don’t have to make it sound so seedy but yeah.’

You roll your eyes at him, cursing him for being adorable and so needy for you. Truth be told, you don’t think you could have gone even a week without him. If he hadn’t suggested it, you would have been at his door in a matter of days, scratching like a starved kitten, begging to be fed and petted. You’re just as bad as he is.

________________

So it goes. Your alarm wakes you every day at 6am. A shower, a huge cup of iced coffee, a quick breakfast, and then it’s you and the books and papers until noon. You allow yourself ten minutes for a lunch break, usually some prepared snack or a bagel, more coffee, repeat. Time flies by and soon it’s 8pm and your stomach is growling and your doorbell rings and it’s Dominick and he always brings food and you devour it and then you devour each other. He was right about the stress relief. It does wonders. By 9.30pm you are usually asleep, worn out from studying and sex. He stays with you some nights but he knows not to be there when your alarm goes off so you have developed a routine although you do allow yourself to spend the weekends at his place, studying together, a little bit more relaxed.

You admire his brain. The way he thinks. You have no doubt he’s going to pass the Bar with ease. Dominick says the same thing about you but you have always been unsure of yourself while he has this confidence, this tenacity that seems to just flow through him naturally. When you imagine him as a lawyer, you can just see a jury hanging on his every word while he delivers his opening or closing arguments or questions the witnesses; his intelligence, eloquence and charm all paired up will make for a deadly combination in a courtroom. It certainly worked on you, from the very first second. Dominick has this force of attraction about him that makes everyone around him, no matter the gender, want to be close to him, talk to him, have his attention. And at times it had made you jealous before realizing that you were the center of his attention, always. You’ve never used the term ‘exclusive’ and there have been instances when gorgeous girls have made their way over to him while you were nowhere near him but watching from afar. There were no rules about flirting with other people and he was unaware you were even looking but it put a winning smile on your face every time you saw him ignore their advances. In all honesty, the thought of him with someone else killed you inside. You knew, eventually you would both move on from one another and then some other girl would have him. Once you let him go you would have to be ready for that. But right now you weren’t ready to let him go just yet.

_______________

The day of the Bar finally came and went and overall you have a good feeling about it. Now all you could do is wait for the results, stay at your part-time job in the meantime, or, if you’re lucky, get that clerk position with Emily at the UN you applied for. At the moment though, you’re in limbo, so you enjoy the summer, let the pressure fall off your shoulders, and celebrate with your friends.

One of your fellow students is throwing a party on the rooftop of his apartment building the day after the exam. It’s the hottest day of the summer, or so they said and you’re wearing your skimpiest dress, hair up, and trying to cool yourself by pressing a cold glass of Vodka Soda against your neck. Dominick is late, on the hunt for more ice he promised to bring. You scan the crowd, wondering how many of these people will stay in your life now that you don’t even see each other at the library anymore. It’s a new chapter in your life for all of you and a lot of you will move on, perhaps even you. At the end of the day though, New York is a village and being in the same profession, you will run into each other, like it or not.

A cold pair of hands on your shoulders interrupts your thoughts and you shriek in surprise, turning around to find Dominick giggling at you.

‘Ugh, you’re so mean!’ you scold but kiss the corner of his mouth, hugging him.

‘And here I was thinking you’d appreciate it considering this heat!’ he hugs you back, swaying you from side to side a little.

‘With a bit of a warning, maybe.’ there you are again, back and forth like an old married couple. You have to roll your eyes at yourself.

‘You look divine.’ he says and lets go of you, looking you up and down.

‘I’m sweating, everywhere.’

‘That’s hot. Won’t make a difference then when I tear off that dress and throw you down somewhere to-’ you put your finger on his lips to shut him up as you see some of your friends approaching.

That visual he gave you stays with you the entire night. And apparently, he has some thoughts on his mind as well. You can tell by how his fingers are brushing the back of your thighs just below the hem of your dress every time he walks by you. The way he tucks the loose strands of your hair behind your ears whenever he stands next to you, hand lingering there for a bit too long. The way his eyes are focusing on your lips whenever you suck on your straw and you make a point of licking them ever so often, on purpose, of course. Fluttering your lashes up at him innocently, making him blush because he sure as fuck is thinking about your mouth wrapped around his cock. And he sighs and looks away, and swears under his breath and you giggle and he comes back, his hand on the small of your back.

And you check that no one is watching and you stick your butt out a little and he double-checks for witnesses, and his hand wanders there for a brief second. Cupping your asscheek, squeezing before he withdraws quickly as though he burned himself on a hot oven. Then your fingers, wet from the condensation of your cold glass, casually wander down your neck to the mounds of your breasts, leaving a moist trail you know he is dying to lick. He clears his throat, moving closer again and you feel the heat of his body against yours, you can swear he’s shaking as he grabs your thigh, fingers digging into your flesh under the makeshift bar. He’s dangerously close to your lace-covered center, a few more inches and he would feel just how wet you are from toying with him like this. So you walk away to the other side of the roof, out of sight a little bit, leaning against the wall, waiting for him to join you.

‘You’re being a really bad girl tonight.’ Dominick sighs, flustered out of his mind.

‘I can be even worse.’ you grin, shoving your leg between his legs, feeling him get hard.

‘Don’t you dare.’ he warns softly but you know he has lost this battle already and there’s not much he can do.

‘What? Hmm?’ you raise your leg, until your thigh is at his crotch, moving back and forth gently over him.

‘Stop!’

‘You came over here. You followed me. Just walk away then. You can’t, huh?’ you laugh, continuing your movements.

‘No, I can’t. You got me in a chokehold and you know it. You and these red lips.’ his thumb is on your bottom lip and you open your mouth, sucking it in, making him gasp.

‘You want something else in there, don’t you, Dominick?’ you look up at him and he has that look on his face, that look of denial but you know what he wants. ‘You want me to be a really, really bad girl? You want me to suck your cock and swallow your cum for you, hmm? Every last drop? I want it so bad, Dominick. I want to taste you so bad. Have you throbbing in my mouth.’

He curses and grabs you and you giggle while he pulls you toward the rooftop exit. Down the stairs you go until you find a dark corner in the stairwell, and soon that red lipstick of yours is leaving marks down his neck, chest and stomach. And you get on your knees and unbuckle his belt and his head falls back against the cool wall and you feel dizzy because he looks so fucking hot and you can’t wait to make him feel good. His cock is rock hard as you pull down his underwear and you take him into your mouth hungrily, and he growls your name desperately. He can’t help but grab your head and fuck into you but you don’t mind; on the contrary, you can feel yourself growing even wetter as his cock hits the back of your throat, making you gag slightly. You riled him up good all evening and seeing him lose it is all you wanted.

It doesn’t take long until you can feel his muscles tense but instead of picking up the pace he withdraws from your mouth, leaving you surprised as he pulls you up. His hand immediately under your dress, feeling for your wetness and he smiles before kissing you sinfully.

‘Ah, you thought you could fuck with me? Act like you got me all wrapped around your little finger? Like you’re the one in control. Nuh-uh, kitten. Look how wet you are for me. Two can play that game, baby.’ he whispers, shoving you against the wall as he removes your thong.

You want to protest but his words make you delirious as he wraps your legs around his hips, aligning himself with your entrance. He kisses you again and slips into you without effort, immediately starting a hard, relentless rhythm, fucking you against the wall.

Fuck. You come undone. Yes, you wanted to be in control but now he’s making you lose all of it. All you can do is hold on to him while he slams into you, over and over. It’s quick, it’s rough, it lasts only a few minutes. The only sounds are your moans and your bodies, slick with sweat, pounding together. And you cum hard and unexpectedly, biting down on his shoulder to stifle a scream that the whole apartment complex would have heard otherwise. He can barely hold you up, his own knees buckling from his orgasm, and when it’s over you just hang from each other, foreheads pressed together, panting, shaking.

And then somewhere above you you can hear a door open and footsteps coming down the stairs and you quickly gather up your clothes and retreat further into the corner, giggling.

‘How ironic would it be if we’d get arrested one day after taking the Bar?’ he says, zipping up his jeans while you pull up your thong.

__________________

Half an hour later Dominick walks you home and kisses you goodnight in front of your building. You can tell he wants to come up but you leave for Connecticut in the morning, to visit your family for a few days. Come to think of it, it’s the longest you’ve been without him since the two weeks at the beginning of your summer fling. And you admit to yourself that you’re going to miss him terribly.

__________________

thank you so much to my betareader for this chapter @pascalispretty aka The Rose of the Reach on AO3 please check out her works!)

tagging @plaidbooks @eltrujillo :)

#dominick carisi #dominick carisi x reader #law and order svu #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi #carisi x reader #carisi smut #carisi fic #carisi fan fic #svu

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peachyjinx · 5 months

Text

On The Edge- Chapter 3: The Hunger

Word count: 3.8k

Summary: Loki, as usual, is a big flirt and driving you crazy. You finally find out why you can't orgasm (this chapter is all plot).

Warnings: This fic kind of goes into the non-consensual realm, Loki really is a jerk. But also he's also a sexy mischievous God so I'm into it...

Day 21

Ok things are definitely desperate now. You thought you were desperate weeks ago, but this is a whole other level. You laid sweaty in your sheets, hopelessness creeping in as you stared at the ceiling. The early morning light shined in, giving your room a soft, warm glow.

This time, you had tried mixing it up while you masturbated, and thought of Eric. That kind, handsome man who looked like he walked straight off of the cover of a bodice ripper in the 90’s. Yet still- no orgasm.

Eric had been out of town for work, so you’d still been unable to test Wanda's theory with a real dick. And to make matters worse, Loki had been insufferable. He’d increased his flirtations with you, which you can’t help but suspect is because he knows you and Eric are talking.

Now Loki blatantly hits on you, and you thought you might die when he caressed the small of your back the other day when the team gathered for a meeting. It’s as if he’s constantly teasing you, keeping you right on the edge without relief.

And it doesn’t help that none of the Avengers are currently on a mission. Everything has been calm, and all of your co-workers are around, making you even more stir crazy. You’ve busied yourself with museum trips and hanging with Wanda and Vision, but it’s not enough.

But relief was just around the corner. Today Eric gets back, and the two of you have yet to make plans. You decide there’s no way you’re giving in to Loki now, especially with his performance at the fair and the fact that he only seems to want you when you’re interested in someone else.

You took a deep breath, trying not to let yet another missed orgasm cloud your judgment as you texted Eric. Play it cool, and not like you’re miserably horny and in aching need for a good fuck.

Hey, do you want to meet up tonight?

Within a minute, Eric replied.

Yea, that’d be great! Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there ;)

A stupid grin spread across your face- you loved how easy it was with Eric. Here he was, excited to see you, and not teasing or messing with you in any way. Just available. You imagined Loki and Eric as a little devil and angel on your shoulder like those old cartoons and chuckled to yourself. You’ll go with the angel- it’s probably a better decision in the long run. You shook your head as you stood out of bed, mentally shaking off Loki and embracing Eric.

What was it your grandma always said? “The best way to get over someone is to get under someone!”. You smirked to yourself, knowing how much it would piss off Loki to see you dating Eric. Good.

BEEEEP BEEEEP BEEEEP

Suddenly, the alarms went off, and your eyes darted to the flashing red light in the corner of your room. OF COURSE there’s a mission when you’re literally hours from finally getting thoroughly fucked.

-----

Day 23

Your mind wandered to Loki casually walking through the staff showers the other week. The way he sauntered with just a towel around his waist as he walked past you. You thought about his chest, strong and powerful, begging to be kissed. His abdominal muscles, perfectly carved and ready for you to run your nails down. That peek of hair below his belly button, trailing towards…

You snapped out of your intrusive and horny thoughts.

You could feel his eyes on you as you looked anywhere else but his direction. The quarters were too close, Loki sat only a few feet across from you for the last hour. The Quinjet was quiet, but your brain was humming with anxious, dirty thoughts. You tried to focus on the equipment piled against the wall of the aircraft.

You realized you were fidgeting with your feet and stopped, and stole a glance at Loki. Those piercing eyes were watching you, studying you. You felt yourself squirm as you immediately looked away. What is his problem? Your eyes drifted to Steve and Wanda in the cockpit flying your team home, and tried to figure out how much longer until you were back in the tower. Back to Eric.

The moment the aircraft landed, you jumped out of your seat, texting Eric with an update on your availability.

“You seemed a bit distracted,” Loki chastised you as he followed you off of the Quinjet. You rolled your eyes, trying to move as quickly as possible to the showers. It was dinner time, and you were hungry for more than a meal. And you had a date- a sure thing.

"Whatever," you muttered as you marched down the hall, opting to go back to your room to clean up instead of the staff locker room. You were not in the mood for Loki’s shit tonight, you had a more serious mission- to have an orgasm.

You stood at the elevator, ignoring Loki as he walked up behind you. You felt his strong hands wrap around your waist as he pulled you up against him.

“Hey- what are you?-”, you could barely blurt out in shock as you looked around, wondering if anyone saw what he was doing.

“If you need help…with your distraction…all you have to do is ask,” he purred in your ear, sending a chill down your body, making you shudder. You could feel his strong chest against your shoulders, his breath on the back of your neck. You had never been more turned on in your life, and your eyes closed for a moment as you felt yourself begin to melt into his body. Memories of his flirting, teasing, and dickish behaviour at the fair flashed through your mind.

You weren’t going to let him do this to you- toy with you because he was bored. The last month had been hell, and he has been making it infinitely more difficult. The flirting. The touching. And now…

All of your annoyance and pent up sexual frustration bubbled up and you exploded.

“First of all, I was never distracted in the mission! And second of all, I can’t take this anymore, Loki!! Do you want me or not?! You’ve been fucking with my head too much, I can’t take it anymore!! Stop flirting with me, I’ve got a date tonight and I don’t need you messing with my head!!,” you screamed, stomping as you whipped your body away from his.

Your face felt hot from anger and lust, and you glared at him, pointing a finger. His expression was even more enraging. Loki looked at you as if you were a sad puppy begging for a treat. Pity? He knowingly smirked at you as he always did, stepping to close the gap between you that you had created.

“Family dinner downstairs, 5 minutes!”, Tony’s voice rang out over the intercoms.

“God damnit, I have HAD IT with you people!!,” you stormed onto the elevator, holding up a hand to show Loki you didn’t want him to follow.

“What’s another few minutes before you’re off to your date with that buffoon?,” Loki asked, his playful demeanor irritating you.

“At least Eric’s a nice man. Something you’d know nothing about!”, you spat out while glaring at him as the doors closed.

~~~~~~

Your shower was frenzied with anticipation. Your anger at Loki, not getting off, and desperation for release was all consuming. Every time your mind drifted to Loki holding you up against him, you shook your head and thought of Eric.

Thankfully, this would all be resolved after dinner. You quickly threw on a cute outfit for drinks with Eric, and headed towards the dining hall the team shared for your “family dinners” as Tony liked to call them.

A beautiful buffet was spread over tables featuring fresh fruits, roasted vegetables, game bird, and breads. It smelled amazing and reminded you that you were famished.

“I could get used to these- it’s one reason to keep Loki around,” Nat elbowed you as you all sat down to the large table, with the enticing spread before you. A few weeks ago, Loki had created a similar spread for you all, and your stomach growled excitedly because you knew this one would also be delicious.

You sat down next to Nat and immediately began filling your plate like your teammates. You saw Loki out of the corner of your eye and you ignored him. But of course he sat next to you. Could he irritate you any more?

“My, you seem hungry this evening,” Loki noted, and you felt yourself immediately suspicious. What is this game? Why is he always messing with you?

“Well I need a full meal- I’m going out tonight and don’t want it to get too messy,” you snarkily responded, still not looking at him.

“Ah, yes off to your date with that oaf, ” he drawled as he delicately picked at his food, not eating.

“Yes, as a matter of fact- I am. And his name is Eric,” you snapped, acknowledging his presence with a glare. You tried not to focus on Loki, but you noticed he wore a black three piece suit with no tie, and the top buttons of his dark green shirt were unbuttoned. You reminded yourself that he’s also an asshole, and you had another hot man who wants you, and you needed to continue to focus on finishing your meal so you can get out as soon as possible.

Loki leaned closer to you, his breath hitting your ear as he lowered his voice.

“What's the matter Darling, unable to bring yourself to completion on your own?", he asked, before leaning back with a knowing smile.

“Huh?”, you eloquently replied, trying to assess what he meant. Did he mean…?

Loki leaned forward, his hand snaking to your leg under the table. Your cunt clenched from the electricity of his touch, and you felt your breath hitch. Loki leaned in close again, and you could swear you felt the touch of his lips on your earlobe.

“Have you been unable to bring yourself the release you so achingly crave? Your lustful fantasies not bringing you the results that you need?”, Loki practically purred in his deep, melodic voice.

You felt your heart sink in your chest as your cheeks heated up. How did he know? Your mind raced through a million thoughts a minute as you tried to piece together what was going on.

Loki knew you couldn’t orgasm. How did he know? Did Wanda tell him? You looked at him in shock, a devilish smile spread across his face as he popped a grape in his mouth.

“Loki…how did you know that?,” you asked as calmly as you could, trying to keep your voice down so no one could hear. You glanced around the table, and everyone was engrossed in their own conversations, not paying attention to the two of you.

“Eric will be unable to satisfy you,” Loki spoke Eric’s name with a hint of venom as he sipped from a glass of wine and continued to ignore your question.

You sat still, confused for a moment.

How did he know that?

“What are you talking about??,” you asked with distress, looking into his icy blue eyes. He is so close, you can smell him- warm, leather undertones with a crispness like the pine trees in a forest on a cold day. You begin to feel dizzy, the heady thoughts of wanton sex and anger building in you. His hand drifted a bit, closer to your inner thigh. Your mini skirt gave easy access, and he was dangerously close to where you needed him. A small moan escaped your lips and Loki smirked.

Loki reached forward on the table and offered you the exotic Asgardian fruit he'd conjured up, holding it up to your mouth to bite.

“I remember you loved this fruit the last time I conjured one,” Loki showed you, the fruit was pear shaped and peach colored.

“Loki answer me,” you said with a warning in your voice, trying to replace your neediness with sternness as you set down your silverware.

He nodded to the fruit, and then his blue eyes flickered back to you. You searched his eyes for answers, when a memory flashed through your mind. The fruit.

Nearly a month ago. When you had all gotten back from that mission in Vancouver. Loki gave everyone a spread of Asgardian dishes when you got back to New York, since none of you could decide on where to order from. A flick of a wrist and you were all feasting like royalty.

Your mind acted quickly, finishing the puzzle.

The moment on the bench.

Loki flirting with you. The fair.

“Are you quite parched, Darling?”

“If you need help…with your distraction…all you have to do is ask,”

"You seem hungry this evening…"

LOKI DID THIS.

“Loki…,” your voice shaking as you looked him in the eyes. You could see a glimmer of mischief as he watched you put everything together.

“...you’d didn’t by chance do anything to me…did you?,” you asked, removing his hand off of your thigh as you turned to face him.

A wry smile slowly spread across his lips, “And why would I do that?”.

He’s testing you, teasing you again. Like he has been for the last few weeks. Ever since you had that fruit he gave you, you’ve been unable to achieve orgasm.

You stared at him, a storm of emotions swirling in you- anger, violation, and desire. You could feel your heart racing, and you weren’t sure what you’re going to do next, but you knew you needed to leave the room. You suppressed all of your emotions, slowly getting up from the table.

“Excuse me,” you forced out before quickly leaving your co-workers, trying not to raise suspicion.

You moved as quickly to the elevators as you could, but Loki was faster. You felt his iron grip around your wrist as he twirled you towards him from behind.

You instinctively shoved him away, " You ASSHOLE!!"

Your eyes were seeing red from the rage that’s built, your hands shook as you glared at the handsome prince standing in front of you.

"Tsk tsk, I wouldn't advise you to touch me like that again, unless it were to lead to more romantic intentions," he casually warned you with a slight smile.

"WHAT THE FUCK?! You POISONED me?! Why did you do this?! Why did you have to torture me?!,” you screamed, not holding back any more.

Loki reached out and grabbed your arm again, quickly pulling you closer to his body. He towered above you, his breath skirting your face. His expression was serious now- he was no longer playing.

"I could have easily taken you. Cornered you in any room of this godforsaken tower. Taken you like you so desperately wanted…,” he paused for a moment, and then a slight tug of a smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth.

“...but where's the fun in that? I wanted to tease you, make you come to me, begging for release,” Loki had pulled your body closer to his.

For a moment you felt the heat in your veins shift to lust again. His strong grip on your arms and the intensity between the two of you at its peak clouding your judgment. You found yourself lost in his eyes, searching for any kind of regret, or an apology. Nothing. You regained your senses and tried to ignore your lust that was overflowing for this man, despite his cruel actions.

“Oh like hell, I'm not begging you for shit!,” you insisted, determined not to let the intimacy of the moment take you over. Loki chuckled darkly.

“You can only find release with me. Nothing- and no one else - will sate you,” he replied matter of fact. His blue eyes were bright as he was clearly enjoying the chaos he had unleashed in your life.

A wave of hopelessness spread across you, at the mercy of Loki. You thought briefly of how much you lusted after this god, cared about him, only for him to choose this path. He was right, he could’ve easily fucked you any time, any place. But he chose to curse you instead.

A huge smile spread across his perfect lips revealing his perfect teeth and your anger flared up again.

“I’m going to smack that grin off of your face, why are you smiling like that??!”, you demanded, desperate for all of this to be over.

“The spell will only work when the subject- you- has lustful intentions for the creator- me. And I love being right”, his hands dropped down to your hips, pulling your body flush with his.

“Beg me,” he whispered hoarsely, pushing the hard bulge in his pants against your stomach. You felt your hips instinctively buck against his and you heard yourself whine. Again you suppressed your desire, using all the restraint you had.

You summoned all of the courage you could, defiantly looking back in his eyes, “No.”

His eyebrow raised but his knowing smile didn’t change. You wriggled from his grasp, turning from him and quickly walking towards the elevators, not looking back as you stepped in and selected the floor for Wanda’s room.

------

“A curse? Wow, that’s a bit much,” Wanda looked at you confused after you gave her a summary of the last hour of events in her bedroom.

“I’m just so mad, and annoyed. And to be totally honest, I haven’t come in like a month so I’m trying not to get distracted by my pent up horniness. Can you please remove his spell?,” you implored with a wearied tone.

You couldn’t tell her that under all of that anger, you were ignited with lust. Loki wanted you, yet had kept you edging for nearly a month. On the precipice. He teased you and taunted you. And all you wanted was release, and now you knew you could only get it from him. Exactly what you had wanted since the day the two of you met. You felt so conflicted, saying no to him in the hallway, while the fire inside you raged for him. You felt yourself starting to panic, pacing in Wanda’s bedroom.

“Breathe,” Wanda gently held your arms so you were facing her, prompting you to slowly breathe with her. You felt yourself calm a bit after a few moments.

“Of course I will do anything I can,” she gestured for you to sit on a pillow on the floor while she gathered candles and herbs.

You sat down and slowly breathed, centering yourself. Wanda created a circle with candles, and sat down across from you on a large fluffy pillow. She set down a small cauldron between the two of you, lighting the herbs sitting inside.

“Okay, I need you to remain calm while I try this, try to clear your thoughts as much as you can”

You groaned and complied, trying to just focus on the moment and the earthy smell wafting through the air, pushing out any thoughts of Loki.

Wanda closed her eyes, concentrating hard as a red aura wrapped around you. You closed your eyes and tried to remain calm. Wanda began chanting in a language you didn’t know, and you continued to clear your mind of any thought just like Dr. Strange had taught you in your meditation lessons.

“I can’t lift it, I’m sorry,” her sad voice prompted you to open your eyes. Her face was covered with disappointment as she slowly shook her head.

“What? Aren’t you a witch?!”, you heard your voice raised more than you had meant to and immediately felt guilty.

“He’s way more advanced than I am, he’s got centuries ahead of me. Plus, he's a God. I’m sorry, I can’t,” Wanda reached out and grabbed your hand to soothe you as she could see your mood shift again.

You huffed in frustration for the millionth time in nearly a month. The reality of everything suddenly came crashing down and you lost it.

“FUCK!!” you screamed, prompting Vision to appear in the room suddenly, phasing through the wall. You pulled your hand from Wanda, grabbing your head in frustration as your eyes focused on the cauldron on the floor.

“It’s okay Vis, she’s just frustrated,” Wanda assured Vision, gesturing for him to leave the room.

“What am I gonna do?,” you looked at Wanda, you could feel the tears of aggravation building in your eyes. This all felt so overwhelming. And exciting. It was so confusing, you didn’t know what to feel anymore.

“Well I think you have to fuck Loki,” Wanda remarked with a smirk, coaxing a small smile from you.

She’s right, and it’s everything you’ve wanted for months. Reality hits you when you realize Loki is into you. Loki wants you. Desperately. The memory of a few moments ago, when he had his straining cock pushed up against you, passed through your mind again and you felt a wave of heat all over, and your cunt clenched with need.

“Give me your phone,” Wanda put out her hand, nodding thoughtfully at you. You sighed, unlocked your phone and obliged. Wanda opened your messenger app and began to type.

“Wait- what are you doing??”

“I’m canceling your plans with Eric,” she looked at you and raised her eyebrows like a big sister who knows best.

“What! No, why?”, you were trying your best not to get mad at Wanda, she didn’t put you in this position.

“Loki said Eric can’t make you come, and Loki’s the one you want, anyways! You obviously need to get laid, not to mention this massive crush you have on Loki, too. Now go and get fucked already!,” Wanda enunciated her point as she finished her text to Eric.

You sat, bewildered for a moment about the events that had unfolded. You didn’t even bother to open the texts to see what Wanda had sent Eric. You knew it didn’t matter.

“Thanks Wanda, I think I need to be alone for a few minutes before I do anything. This is all a little much,” you felt the roller coaster of emotions slowing down, and you just needed to recoup and make your plan.

“Of course, but I think we both know where you should go when you leave this room,” she chuckled, escorting you to her door.

You mustered out a small smirk as your nerves began to set in. You slowly left her room, your mind swirling with the way everything had unfolded. Mindlessly, you entered the elevator and looked at the floor number buttons, not sure which to choose.

You were mad, but unbelievably turned on. He could’ve just fucked you. Instead, he chose to tease you mercilessly, edging you for nearly a month. You were sopping wet now, unable to ignore the wetness pooling in your panties. You knew that the moment you surrendered yourself to him, it would be erotic bliss like you’ve never experienced.

What do you do?

Should you go directly to his room and finally succumb to your desires?

Or make him suffer for what he’s put you through?

Give in?

Or torture him like he did to you?

-----

Author's Note:

Pick the chapter based on which decision you want to make :)

Chapter 4- Submission

Chapter 5- Tease

On the Edge Chapter List

#loki smut #loki #loki x reader #loki series #dom!loki smut #dom!loki x sub!reader #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki x female reader #loki fanfiction

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south-of-heaven · 1 year

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Hi there! Can I please request a Dominick Mysterio/reader where he is super sweet with reader and an all around gentleman. Reader hasn’t had the best luck in previous relationships and has never been involved with someone like Dom before. Someone who is so caring and kind, who makes her feel so loved. One night they’re on a date and Dom steps away for a few moments and while he’s gone, someone starts hitting on her and making her uncomfortable. She tries to tell them that she’s here with her boyfriend and not interested, but the person won’t take no for an answer. When Dom comes back, he sends the creep away before making sure the reader is ok and assuring her he’ll keep her safe always.

Thank you very much as always!

Spoken for || Dominik Mysterio x Reader

Summary: After a few pretty bad previous relationships you've found the one. Dominik is the ultimate gentleman and always takes care of you. When you get into an uncomfortable situation while you're out with him he doesn't hesitate to show you he'll step up and protect you.

You and Dominik Mysterio had embarked on a relationship that was unlike any you'd experienced before. Your past relationships had been marred by misunderstandings, neglect, and a general lack of care. But Dominik was different; he was the ultimate gentleman, and he took such good care of you that it often left you in awe.

Tonight, the two of you were out for a drink and some food at a local bar. It was a relaxed evening, and you were enjoying the pleasant conversation and laughter that flowed freely between you. But as luck would have it, an unfortunate accident occurred – you spilled some of your drink on your shirt.

Dominik, always attentive, excused himself from the table to grab a napkin for you. As he disappeared into the crowd for a moment, you sat there, trying to discreetly blot at the stain on your shirt. That's when things took an uncomfortable turn.

A man, who had clearly had a few too many drinks, sidled up to you. He was overly familiar, and you could tell that he was hitting on you, his words slurred and his intentions far from innocent. Panic rose within you as he invaded your personal space, and you immediately felt your discomfort escalate.

"I'm sorry, but I'm here with my boyfriend," you said firmly, hoping to deter him.

The man, however, seemed undeterred. He leaned in closer, his words becoming more insistent and invasive. You repeated your statement, your voice trembling slightly, "I told you, I'm not interested. I'm here with my boyfriend."

Just as you were beginning to feel overwhelmed, Dominik returned to the table, a napkin in hand. His eyes immediately assessed the situation, and he sensed your distress. Without hesitation, he stepped between you and the persistent man, his protective instincts taking over.

"Hey, pal, she's spoken for," Dominik said firmly, his voice carrying a weight of authority. "She's with me, and I think you should find someone else to talk to."

The man, now faced with Dominik's unwavering presence, finally got the message. He mumbled something incoherent and staggered away, leaving you feeling relieved and grateful.

Dominik turned back to you, his expression softening as he gently dabbed at the stain on your shirt with the napkin. "Are you alright?" he asked, concern evident in his eyes.

You nodded, feeling your heart swell with love and gratitude. "Yeah, thanks to you," you replied, your voice filled with emotion. "You always take such good care of me, Dom."

He smiled, leaning in to place a tender kiss on your forehead. "I love you," he whispered, his words filled with sincerity. "And I'll always keep you safe, no matter what."

In that moment, you knew that you had found something truly special in Dominik – a love that was built on care, trust, and a fierce protectiveness that made you feel cherished and safe. You couldn't have asked for a better partner, and you were grateful every day for the love he showered upon you.

#wwe fanfiction #wwe x reader #pro wrestling #wrestling #wwe #dominik mysterio x reader #dirty dom #dominik mysterio

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ectoplasmic-entity · 2 months

Note

Could you do alphabet sfw of dark danny, since you did a nsfw one?

Oh, hah, I actually didn't do a nsfw alphabet, a past anon brought it up and I'd said I might do it one day. Unless you're thinking of someone else who did it? Although, if someone's willing to throw me a bone... 👀

SFW Alphabet Template

Dan Phantom SFW Alphabet

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Not super affectionate, in public that is. The less people are around, the more he'll shower his partner with it. He doesn't have a reason for it, in his mind anyway, Dan feels like it's the equivalent of stripping naked in public. He doesn't like being seen as soft and vulnerable. He doesn't voice out affection a lot, and as hesitant as he may be, he prefers the physical aspects. The longer he's with a partner, the less reserved he becomes. He prefers having his partner in his sight, within reach so he can pull them close. He feels the need to have his hand on them somewhere, usually on their side, shoulder, or even hip. He'll give quick kisses, nuzzles, and nibbles anywhere on their upper body. He of course, takes more time to shower his partner in private, sometimes in a painstakingly slow manner just to keep them close for a little longer.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Dan would basically be like that troubled kid your parents would warn you to stay away from. He's done a lot of questionable shit, in the same vein, it's because its fuelled by trauma and he doesn't know when to stop. If he actually likes someone, they've earned themselves a mostly dependable friend. He knows the ins and outs of the shadier parts of the Zone, knows where to get the "good" stuff, can be protective at times, gives from downright bad advice to some wise words in the silver lining. Dan will take interest in someone if they've shown that they're not afraid of him, and will watch from afar for a while.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Dan hates admitting it, but he is clingy. Particularly in instances when he and a partner have time to rest and have breathing room. And he wants them all to himself for a bit. His favourite manner of cuddling is having them sitting on his lap while he holds them close - just having someone on top of him no matter what position. Or, if they're laying down, his partner will curl into his side and he will drape himself over them.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Is it still on the table after laying waste to the entire planet over the course of a decade? Dan supposes he wouldn't mind some quiet and solitude with his partner. He's never "ran" a household, but he does like to cook on occasion to bring him out of a bad funk.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Dan has attachment issues, breaking up with his partner would be emotionally taxing. He'll become standoffish and hide away for a little while. Eventually, it comes to a head when his partner asks him what's the issue, he rationalizes himself it's like ripping the bandaid off. Once it's done and done, he'll clam up tight to try to control his emotions.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Sure, he might fuck around a lot. But once Dan has someone he genuinely likes and wants to stay with, all of his focus will be on them. No desire to get married at all, just being with his partner is enough for Dan.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Once he gradually eases himself into getting comfortable with affection and intimacy, Dan is surprisingly gentle. He wants it to feel good, so he'd rather not hurt his partner by accident (unless they asked him to). Emotionally, well, he's not great with them. He can try as best as he can.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Dan's really awkward about hugging. Most of the time, he doesn't initiate them. When he does, he does his best to not accidentally crush his partner / the other individual. His hugs go from one armed to a bear hug, but supernaturally enhanced.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Probably never. Dan cannot physically bring himself to say the words. In his mind, he knows he loves his partner. He prefers to express in other ways that don't require speaking.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Honestly, Dan's not the type to get jealous. He might be suspicious on occasion, but he trusts his partner. He may declare his partner as "his" on occasion, but nothing more.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Firm but passionate, he's had some practice 😉 Soft when he's in a mellow mood. Anywhere his partner lets him, although Dan's favourite body part to kiss is the neck. He enjoys being kissed on the chest, oh, and on the lips of course, he wants to get a good taste of his partner too.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Kind of awkward to be frank. Not overly paternal and more likely to treat them as a younger sibling than as his own child. He will be protective and make sure they know how to take care of themselves when they're older. Sometimes a child is inexplicably drawn to him, but Dan puts up with it since he doesn't mind it, much.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Slow and lazy, filled with a lot of sleepy mumbling and cuddling and nuzzling in bed. Most times, Dan gets up before his partner does. He doesn't have a consistent morning routine and will follow along with whatever his partner does.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights out when the sky's clear enough to see the stars. It's like a whole other reality to Dan, he finds it quiet compared to his daily activities. Exploring the depths of the Ghost Zone, there's all sorts of strange places no ghost has been before Dan discovered them. Back home, it's unwinding until the evening bleeds into night, sometimes it's having some "fun" with his partner 😉

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Dan's not the best with his emotions, certain ones coupled with trauma is too much for him. He will take a while, sometimes even longer than necessary, to open up. It usually takes a fair bit of prodding from his partner, along with the idea planted in his mind that he shouldn't be holding it all in. Over the course of however many days, Dan will slowly speak about whatever's bothering him.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Surprisingly patient, Dan will tolerate a lot because he's had so much thrown at him, it slides off of him easily. However, there will come a time when his patience will wear thin.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He always remembers his favourite things about his partner, and mentions them frequently.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The fact that he even has a partner at all. He wants the feeling to last for as long as he can.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Quite protective, even if his partner can fight for themselves, and especially if they get hurt. Dan will hover over them for a period of time until they're back on their feet, and sometimes he'll go out and take care of the culprits himself. Dan doesn't need much protection himself, he's not the most powerful ghost for nothing.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Not a whole lot, since to ghosts, those kinds of things are arbitrary. Dan always remembers his partner's birthday if they're human, he just does. One of those small details. Since Dan also goes exploring the Zone a lot, he's always bringing something back for his partner.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Hiding his troubles, to the point his emotions implode. It... gets pretty distressing for both Dan and his partner. He has a bad habit of physically hiding away too. Lashes out when angry, he tries to redirect it away from his partner and somewhere else.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Not particularly. The most Dan worries about is his hair.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes 🥲 He doesn't want to be left alone again.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

When the opportunity comes up, Dan loves taking a dip in the Ghost Zone's natural hot springs. To kick back and "relax", especially if his partner comes along~

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Dan doesn't like people who are too weak willed, or just can't handle his intensity. The life of a ghost isn't a walk in the park. He doesn't like bad hygiene either, odd as it may be for him since he's killed people. The thing is, he always cleans himself up afterwards.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Dan doesn't actually sleep. He can't, the darkest depths of his mind will rise up and torment him. That and ghosts don't necessarily need sleep, it's optional if they want to recharge ecto-energy. He watches his partner sleep through the night, since, well, what else is there to do? Dan almost always big spoons his partner.

#ask #anonymous #danny phantom #dan phantom #dark danny #sfw alphabet #headcanon #romantic headcanons #zone culture

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gayf1hoe · 2 months

Text

Part 1

As I sit down with my bowl of cereal I begin to open my laptop and see an abundance of emails that I have ignored over the course of the past few weeks, because I've been having a full media and work detox.

As the emails load I see the latest email is from Gunther so I decide I best not ignore it otherwise if I ignore it like I did when I first joined the team he will give me a lecture about how rude it is to ignore emails. Opening it I scan it with my eyes whilst spooning my cereal into my mouth. I read that Gunther has called for a meeting for today which isn't much of a surprise given it's only a few weeks until pre-season testing and I don't even know who my teammate is. After last season I need a good teammate. Nikita was a great person but a terrible teammate. It was like Haas had only one driver driving for them because he spent half of his time spinning off the track or going into the wall so this year I need a teammate who will be able to score points alongside me.

I continue scrolling through the emails and curse myself for putting myself in this position, when people say F1 drivers just drive a car they are so wrong. They should try keeping up with all the emails and brand deals we have to do.

I finish my breakfast and quickly jump in the shower and dig out an outfit from my draws that are more than due a clear out but that's very far down on my very long to do list that never seems to be fully complete.

I double check I have everything before shutting the door to my apartment and heading to the factory where the meeting is, thankfully it isn't far away as when I joined Haas I bought an apartment close to the factory and moved.

As I approach the entrance I am handed my ID pass and make my way to Guenther's office. The building has become like a second home to me, in fact I have probably spent more time here in the past 2 years than I have at home, it's full of loads of Haas memorabilia such as the burnt Halo that saved Grosejans life, or the chassis of previous cars. Unfortunately the trophy cabinet isn't as grand or as full as Red Bull's or Ferrari's but it still displays the team's short history.

Eventually after greeting everyone who I haven't seen for a few months I reach the door of Gunther's office and confidently knock and wait for a response from within, it doesn't take long for him to say "come in".

Whilst he is my team principal he is also like a father figure to me and I would be lying if I said I didn't miss his dry humour and constant use of profane langauge over the course of the break.

I take a seat opposite him and see that there is another chair next to me so I assume someone else will be joining us shortly. We take a brief moment to catch up after the break and we discuss what we did and he asks if my swearing is under control yet. As last year every team radio and interview I almost certainly used a swear word, although I don't think he has much room to talk.

I could tell how stressed he was last year having Nikita crashing his car every 5 seconds, Dimitry threatening to pull out the Uralkali sponsor and having 2 rookies on his team was never going to be easy but I don't think he envisaged it being that hard, last year Haas managed to get 112 points all of which came from me so by the end of the year I was very burnt out and spent the entire break doing absolutely nothing.

The conversation bounces back and forth until there is a knock on the door causing silence to hit the room, Gunther goes over to the door and greets who ever is there but I can't see or hear who it is until Gunther moves out the way and motions to the chair, causing me to stand up and prepare to shake the person's hand what I didn't expect was to see that my new teammate was Carlos Sainz.

I knew Carlos was out of a seat this year, with much controversy behind it. I just never would have expected him to come to Haas, it's not that I'm unhappy with the team choosing him but he's going from one of the top teams to a team that is struggling to stay in the fight to be a midfielder.

Another reason I'm stood in silence is because well, Carlos is gorgeous there is no denying that and his natural charm makes him irresistible. I'm snapped out of my thoughts by Gunther repeatedly saying my name until I turn my head towards him and he then motions with his head for me to shake his hand. I shake his hand, make eye contact with him and say hello.

We both take a seat and Gunther walks around to his side of the desk, it kind of feels like you've been called to the Principal's office, even if you know you have done nothing wrong there is always nerves in your stomach.

"So Y/N if you can't tell by now Carlos is your new teammate" Gunther says in his typical blunt tone that makes me smile.

"Yes I had gathered that much Gunther"

We spend ages talking about media and contracts but it's more focused on informing Carlos on how the team works and what the expectations are although I can only assume they are a lot lower compared to Ferrari.

We are doing pre-season testing and revealing the livery in 2 weeks time so there are a lot of things to sort out in a short period of time. But after the meeting Gunther lets us go to lunch and it provides me and Carlos with an opportunity to get to know each other. before we go into the simulator for practice.

The lunch hall is quite full as the preparations for the next season are very much in full swing and with MoneyGram being the new sponsor there is a lot to change, I wish I could say I will miss having Nikita as a teammate but his father and Uralkali made my first season and absolute nightmare constantly accusing me of having a different or better car to Mazepin, I can't even begin count how many times my car was inspected by the FIA last year.

We collect our food and head to a quiet conference room as the dining hall is flooded by engineers, designers and loads of other staff that makes it barely possible to actually hear anyone. We eventually reach a quiet conference room and place our lunch down at the table before sitting down. For the initial 10 minutes we are just sat in silence before I'm the one to ask the first question.

"So why Haas, you must have been pretty desperate for that F1 seat? I say trying to break the silence with some humour.

"No, I wanted a team that would challenge me and I thought you would make a great teammate" as he finishes his sentence I have to look down because I can feel my cheeks blushing bright red like I've just seen my high-school crush.

He has great charisma, humour and looks and he is an extremely talented driver, the polar opposite to my previous teammate so I am elated at the fact he is my team mate although I'm sure my attraction to him will at some point cause a predicament that will arouse drama for us and the team. I can't help but admire him from the opposing side of the table, I probably look obsessed right now - but maybe that's an accurate description.

Throughout lunch we get to know each other more and more. He speaks about what it was like to have Charles as a teammate and I speak about what it was like to have Nikita as a teammate and I think I win at having the more Interesting stories.

But no sooner than lunch had started we have to go and do testing in the simulator which is an all too common thing in preparing for the season however I have never been a fan of simulators I don't feel they give the proper experience and plus 20 to 30 years ago there was no such thing as simulator testing and the drivers managed just as well. Me and Carlos go to separate rooms for the simulator tests and after we have to get our seats moulded so we don't see eachother until about 5 PM when we are allowed to go back home.

Unlike Carlos I live near the factory however he still lives in Spain so he's renting a hotel room. When we meet in the lobby I suggest we go for dinner at a nearby restaurant I know well and he agrees. We both head to my Audi and take a seat, "nice car" he compliments as he buckles his seat belt. We begin driving and in typical England fashion it starts to rain and the sound of rain pelting against the metal is a sound that feels the air of silence. But eventually Carlos sparks a conversation between us that is more personal and detached from racing.

"So do you have a partner?" He asks "nope, painfully single and probably will be forever" I reply further questioning "What about you?".

"Same, still single" he replies, "but sure someone with your good looks would be able to find someone" I instantly regret saying that it sounds like I'm hitting on him and he can clearly tell that I'm embarrassed.

"No need to feel shy, I am very honoured that you think I'm good-looking" whilst his response calms me, I still can't help but feel a little embarrassed still.

Shortly after making a fool of myself we pull into the parking bay of the restaurant and step out into the rain. We hastily rush into the restaurant taking refuge from the rain and are guided to our table by the waiter I know very well.

We are sitting down at the table and the waiter comes by again, "Now Y/N will it be the usual" he says whilst placing his hand on my shoulder, Carlos quickly averts his attention away from us and back to the menu after he's finished taking our orders Carlos comments on his behaviour.

"He's very touchy don't you think, maybe he likes you"

I laugh at his comment, "please I know his mother and he's so not my type"

"Well what is your type?" He presses on.

"The complete opposite of him" I state trying to give as little away as possible.

"Anyway, what's your type?" I ask, trying to deflect.

"Well I don't have a specific type I'm open to all kinds of people" He answers and as he finishes our food comes out putting an abrupt end to that conversation.

Over the course of dinner we talk about the plans for the forthcoming weeks and what the reaction is going to be like when everyone finds out that he's going to be driving for Haas. I can't lie, I can't wait to see the out roar of disappointment when they find out Carlos Sainz, one of the best drivers on the grid is in a Haas. I bet it's an image some can't even begin to imagine.

After dinner I drive Carlos back to his hotel which isn't too far from the restaurant and as I am about to drive off he invites me in.

"Hey, do you want to come in for a glass of wine?" He asks whilst undoing his seat belt.

"I can't, I'm driving" I say.

"Well you can just stay the night", I think about it momentarily and agree to come in. I quickly park the car and walk into the hotel with Carlos.

When we reach his room he quickly digs around in his pocket and pulls out his key card and opens the door. His room is more grand and well decorated than my own apartment and it's fixtures are more extravagant than anything I had ever seen.

Carlos walks over to the mini bar and pours two glasses of red wine and hands me one as I'm walking over to take a seat. I take a moment to admire the rest of the room, and wonder where Haas found the money in the budget for such a nice hotel.

We continue talking about our F1 careers and whilst mine is only 2 seasons old his is much more interesting than mine. We also talk about our personal lives, friends, family, relationships, hobbies and soon one glass of wine turns into a whole bottle.

Whilst I'm not drunk I'm certainly a little tipsy and probably not in the right mind frame to drive or walk home so I decide to take Carlos' offer of staying the night so I quickly get changed into some shorts and a t- shirt Carlos had given me and climb into the bed. Yes it's a little weird sharing the bed with my new team mate but I have known Carlos since last year so I guess it's not that bad.

A little after I had gotten into the bed Carlos comes out of the bathroom and gets into the bed next to me and turns the TV on.

"What do you want to watch?" He asks.

"I don't mind," I respond.

Shortly after he picks a TV show I drift off to sleep and don't really remember much.

Waking up in the morning I feel a headache and a slight hangover sweep over me. I hadn't had a single alcoholic drink since the last race of the season so it hit me pretty hard.

With my eyes feeling extremely sensitive the slight slither of light that bypasses the blinds peirces into my eyes causing me to let out an audible groan that causes Carlos to wake up.

"Are you ok?" He asks.

"Aside from a banging headache I should be fine" I say, pulling myself out of the bed and walking over to his table where there is a pair of sunglasses and putting them on to reduce the strain on my eyes.

I walk into the bathroom and have a shower all whilst keeping the sunglasses on my headache only seems to intensify as time passes.

I get changed in the bedroom whilst Carlos has a shower and we have to be at the factory in less than an hour so I only manage to have an apple and a glass of water for my breakfast and due to my headache I can't drive, so I entrust Carlos with my most expensive possession and pray he doesn't have an accident, but as he is an ex Ferrari driver I have faith in his competence and driving ability.

Although Carlos is a good driver I don't think he understands the speed limit is a limit and not a target and I'm sure when I go home there will be a speeding ticket in the post. However we do arrive much earlier than expected so I guess that's a positive. As we walk into the factory the smell of automotive oil is a smell that doesn't help my hangover at all.

We are left standing around for about 5 minutes before the head of Technical Engineering arrives and tells us what we are doing today, not before he questions me.

"Y/N is there a reason why you are wearing sunglasses indoors when it is winter?".

"I've got a little headache" I reply but he already knows.

"As long as your hangover doesn't impact your performance today I will look past it" he says unlocking the doors to the simulators.

Today is the day that Haas will announce that Carlos is joining the team and we have been informed we are filming a short video which will cause many people to have the shock of their lives.

3 hours of my day is spent in the simulator running through every single setting the car has and the different types of balance settings the car has. It's quite boring but it's also important.

The media manager comes by and pulls me and Carlos out to film the video and we have to do so many retakes because we can't stop laughing and I keep on saying "Uralkali Haas" instead of "MoneyGram Haas" but the final result doesn't show how many times we had to go through it.

"Hi guys my name is Y/N L/N, and I'm Carlos Sainz and we are the drivers for MoneyGram Haas F1 Team"

The team are then going to take that speech and make a promo using photos of me and Carlos in the sim and in our race suits and by 2 PM the video is out and the Internet is going wild especially the other drivers who had no idea Carlos was going to Haas.

I get a text message from George who knows about my slight crush on Carlos and says:

"Don't get too carried away" I laugh at his message and Carlos asks what I'm laughing at but I just say it's a meme, and technically I'm not lying because I am talking to the most meme-able man ever.

Over the course of the next hour the media is going absolutely berserk. They never saw this coming and quite frankly I can't blame them because I didn't either and I don't think Gunther expected Carlos to actually say yes.

Mid way through scrolling through the comments Carlos comes over and says, "I'm going out for dinner tonight with Lando, George and Alex and they told me to tell you that you are also invited" I thank him for telling me and I get back to doing some admin tasks to pass time and clear things off my extensive to-do list.

As the day progresses my hangover eases off and I manage to cope without wearing sunglasses and I vow to myself that I'm not going to drink for a few weeks, but these self promises never seem to stick.

I'm sitting in one of the conference rooms meticulously reading through emails, rules and regulation changes, and other miscellaneous things like sponsorship information. It's all quite banal and mundane but I'm in a great flow and manage to read most of the stuff that I had been tasked with so it should make Gunther and the management team very happy, last year I didn't really make an effort and didn't fully comprehend all the rules and may have accidentally touched Zhou's Rear wing in parc ferme and it was a costly mistake that resulted in me being shouted at by Gunther like a school child.

I decide that I have read enough for one day so I decide to collect my belongings and head down to the reception area to wait for Carlos. He is taking a while so I begin to pace up and down admiring the past cars that are on display showcasing the history of Haas, but eventually Carlos does turn up.

"Sorry I'm late, Gunther was lecturing me" he says sincerely.

"It's fine he does that often" I say putting my coat on and removing my keys from my pocket.

"So what restaurant are we going to?" I add.

"It's a Thai restaurant that Alex found, I'll drive if you want me to".

I think for a moment but see he clearly wants to drive so I chuck him my keys and we exit the building.

When we arrive the guys are already standing outside waiting for us and as we step out the car George is giving me his usual devilish smile that is insinuating something. We greet each other and shake hands and hug each other and they are all excited as they haven't seen each other in a few months. Despite being in F1 for a year I kept myself to myself and maintained a private life and didn't really connect with other drivers apart from George, Lance and Pierre so it's a little awkward for me as I have barely said 10 words to Lando or Alex.

We eventually head in and we are shown to our table. I try to sit next to Carlos but Lando gets there before me so I sit down in-between Alex and George.

I take this time as an opportunity to get to know Alex as we haven't really had much time to talk.

"So how's things going at Williams?" Is the first question that comes to mind but given the results of the season I can sort of make my own answer up.

"Yeah it was a tough season but we are working hard this year, anyway how are things going at Haas especially after Mazepin?"

"Going well, obviously I have a new teammate now so hopefully more points and hopefully the car spends more time on the track than in the wall".

He laughs lightly at my little dig at Nikita and then asks how I'm finding Carlos being my new teammate and I can't really think of an answer as we have only done two days of simulator testing so I can't really give a valid answer so I simply reply "it's going well, I think we get on" George hears my response and I see him pulling that grin again and I lightly hit his leg with my foot under the table causing his grin to dissipate.

Over the course of dinner Lando and Carlos are constantly touching each other and joking with one another and for some reason I feel angry, jealous?

I know I have nothing to be jealous of, it's not as if he's my boyfriend or even remotely interested in me so I have no idea why I'm feeling these feelings that are so irrational.

At one point Lando is holding on to one of Carlos' arms and I excuse myself from the table and head to the bathroom where I take a moment to just cool down and splash some water on my face. I don't intend to make an embarrassment out of myself over a guy I have only really known for 2 days. As I'm patting my face dry with the paper towel I hear the door behind me creaking open and see George enter.

"Are you alright?" he asks.

"I'm fine just struggling with a hangover still" I reply.

"You know you are one of two people after Carlos and Lando is fierce competition. He won't let Carlos go that easily, but don't give up."

"I'm not after Carlos I'm after a race win and more points are the only 2 things I'm after in this world, besides relationships just get in the way" I start heading for the door and George places his hand on my shoulder.

"Believe me trying to block him out it won't work, I've seen Lando try and fail doing that. And you are teammates you are going to constantly be reminded of him"

"Thanks for the words of encouragement George" I say sarcastically before heading back to the table.

I manage to finish my meal and decide I have had enough of watching Lando fanboy over Carlos and say I'm going home and I ask Carlos for my car key.

When he asks why I'm going I say I'm just tired and he asks if I want him to drop me off but I tell him it's fine and he can stay and enjoy his evening.

As I walk out to my car and press unlock I hear someone call my name and turn to see Lando running towards me.

"Is everything alright?" I ask

"Everything is fine, just do me a favour and don't make things difficult for me and Carlos," he says.

"I'm sorry what do you mean exactly"

"Well I like him and I want to get with him at some point but I know you like him too so please let him go and settle for second best"

When he says that I become enraged and say something I probably shouldn't have.

"I guess you know a lot about being second best considering Oscar is always out qualifying you and getting more points than you, McLaren must really love you to still keep extending your contract but you will never be as good as Oscar"

"Don't be bitter Y/N it's not a good look"

During the drive home I am fueled by anger and I have gone over the speed limit a few times but at this point I don't really care, I have never been so annoyed by a single person.

I spent a year with Nikita and Dimitry Mazepin. I thought I had the patience of a Saint to deal with them, yet some McLaren driver comes along, makes a few comments and I see red.

I fumble around with my house keys before eventually finding the right one and open the door. The entire apartment is dead silent apart from the faint ticking of the clock. I throw my keys onto the small table by the front door and sit on the chair by the kitchen Island sipping on a glass of water when my phone pings and it's a message from Carlos.

'Hey Y/N me and Lando are going to a karting track tomorrow for a quadrant video. Would you like to come?"

I can't think of any excuse to get out of it so I text back "sure" despite the fact I'm completely unsure and a day with Lando and Carlos will really test my patience.

#Carlos Sainz #Male reader #Carlos Sainz x Male Reader #F1 #Haas #Red Bull #Carlando #Lando Norris #McLaren #Lando Norris x Carlos Sainz

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