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captainfern · 11 months

Note

hey captain, it’s me again. I have come to repent from my sins by requesting your blessing with a jealous dbf!price that doesn’t like other “man” (aka boys) around you.

Thank you for your service captain 🫡

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Marigold pt. 3

dbf!Captain John Price x fem!reader

[“Marigold” by Nirvana]

[18+]

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• summary - what the request says but price shows you how jealous he is lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 1.8k • warnings - fem!reader, dad’sbestfriend!price, established relationship?, age gap [whatever you want it to be as long as it's legal lmao], jealous!price, possessive!price, unprotected piv, strong language

mmmmm look at that nose— yooooo what????? girl who said that oh my goddddd... 😏

a longer dbf!price fic will happen soon i’ve just got to start writing it LMAO

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Price never used to be a jealous man.

Past relationships came and went and he never found himself jealous if they spent time with other men, or had male co-workers or friends taking up a portion of their time.

It never bothered him, because he wasn't self-conscious. He knew that, at the end of the day, they'd come home to him.

But something changed within him. The past few months of building this secret relationship with you changed something within him.

Maybe it was the fact you were younger than him, thereby attracting younger men who, from knowledge, Price knew were total fuckheads. Or maybe it was the fact that you were just so nice— so polite, so smiley, such a good girl.

Upon re-evaluation, Price determined it was probably a mix of those two things.

The past week had been taking a toll on him. Watching the way you seemed to attract fucking idiots that fawned after you, showed off to you, all with the hopes of getting into your pants. Price knew you weren't dumb enough to let these morons get what they wanted, but the thought still made his jaw tick.

Today, especially, had him on the edge of his fucking seat. Not in excitement, or anticipation for anything. But because he was this close to ripping the trachea out of this guys throat beside you.

Price's best mate, your dad, invited some other friends around for a couple of drinks. They were mutual friends with Price, too, so he knew what he was expecting when two of them showed up. But he wasn't expecting one of them to bring their young adult son.

"This is Grayson," the friend introduced to your dad. "You don't mind that he came along, do you?"

"Of course not, mate. The more the merrier." Your dad said, offering Grayson a beer as everyone gravitated towards the living room, settling in on the couches there.

Not long after, you came home from work. Your eyes found Price's as soon as you walked through the door, and Price noticed the way your lips quirked at the corners, fighting a smile. Your dad was beckoning you into the living room before the smile could fully settle on your face.

And that's how you ended up here. Sitting on the couch across from Price, resting against the plush armrest. That cunt Grayson— stupid fucking name, anyway— sat beside you. Price saw how well the two of you hit it off. He saw how he made you smile with small joking remarks, how he kept you interested about whatever stupid fucking thing he was talking about. He made you smile, and nod, and laugh, and ask him more questions about his life.

The grasp Price had on his glass of whiskey was turning white-knuckled. If the force increased anymore, the tumbler would shatter.

Grayson dropped flirty remarks as the night progressed, your dad too engrossed in his own conversation to shield his daughter from the ridiculous amount of jokes and chat-up lines.

One thing that did stop Price from beating the shit out of Grayson in front of everyone was that you weren't flirting back. You were being nice, polite, but you shot down each one-liner with a cheeky quip, or a roll of your eyes. But, what pissed Price off was that Grayson, the dumb fuck, couldn't take the fucking hint.

"Hey, you want to come outside and get some fresh air?" Grayson asked you, already half off the couch.

"Um..." You hesitated, eyes flicking subtly over to Price.

He grit his teeth and shook his head, raising his tumbler of whiskey to his lips as he did so.

"Um... I'm okay for now." You said politely, smiling sweetly.

"Okay, no worries. I'll be outside if you change your mind." Grayson returned the smile, then left the room, heading for the front porch.

You fidgeted with your hands on your lap, avoiding Price's eyes. He was looking at you over the rim of his glass, and his stare was hot. So hot, you were starting to feel stuffy.

"I... I'm just going to pop outside..." You cleared your throat, telling your father.

"Alright, honey, see you soon." Your dad waved you off, not giving you much attention after that.

Ignoring Price's stare, you quickly shuffled across the room. You heard heavy footsteps behind you, and you tried not to squeal when you made it into the semi-seclusion of the entrance hall. You knew who it was.

You had a hand on the front door handle when Price's hand engulfed yours, pinning it there. His body pressed to yours, keeping your front pinned against the solid wood door. His chest heaved against your back, and you took a deep breath to try and soothe your nerves. It didn't help, since you could just smell him.

Price did much the same. He didn't even have to take a deep breath to smell your perfume, your shampoo, your everything. A smell he had grown obsessed with these past few months.

"Where're you going?" He asked, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"Outside..." You whispered, flinching when a burst of laughter erupted from the living room, just metres away.

"Why?"

"Just... just to get some fresh air."

"Is that right?" The hand around yours squeezed gently. "No other reason?"

You shook your head, body growing warm at the closeness of the two of you.

Price hummed, sceptical.

"Do you not trust me?" You bit out, trying to keep your voice level.

"Oh, sweetheart, of course I trust you," he said, other hand grabbing your hip and pushing your backside into his pelvis. "But I don't trust him."

With that, he let go of you and took a small step back. You felt like you could finally breathe again. You turned to face him, your back now leaning against the door.

"Are... you jealous, Price?"

Price cocked his heat, swiping his tongue over hit lower lip in thought, eyes locked to yours.

"Jealous...?" He whispered slowly as if he was tasting the word.

You waited for his reply, raising your eyebrows expectantly. "Mhm."

He chuckled lowly, shaking his head and finally breaking eye contact, looking at the floor for a moment. When he looked back up at you, his smile faded.

"I am," he said simply. His tone was dark. "You wanna know why?"

You nodded, another loud spurt of laughter sounding from your living room. It made your eyes dart to the doorway briefly.

"Look at me." Price whispered.

You did.

"I'm jealous because I don't like little fuckheads like him thinking he has a chance with you," he said. "I don't like boys flirting with you. Talking to you like you're theirs. D'you understand that?"

You forced yourself to nod stiffly. Was it weird you were turned on by this conversation?

"So, if you want to go outside with him, sweetheart, then be my guest," Price gestured at the door. "But if you do, he won't be leaving here with working legs."

You gaped at him.

"Or a working cock, for that matter."

"Oh my god, Price." You whisper-yelled at him.

You pressed your thighs together, butterflies in your stomach. Was it sick that this was making you horny? You had so many questions for yourself at this point.

"So?" He implored casually, if he hadn't just threatened to turn off Grayson's fucking legs. "Are you going to go outside, or—?"

"Or what?" You whispered. It was meant to be challenging. But it probably sounded pathetic as the heat in your core increased.

"Or are you going to come upstairs?"

•º•

"Mmpf— mmm—"

"Shh, come on, sweetheart, quiet." Price cooed in your air, leaning over your back as he fucked you hard against your bed.

He had a hand to the back of your head, pushing your head into your pillows. His other hand was on your hip with a bruising hold, slamming your arse back onto him, ramming his cock into you over and over.

"Mmm— mhm—" You tried to speak to him. Tried to moan, tried to sob, tried anything.

But he continued to rut into you at an animalistic pace. The only sounds you could hear was the faint slapping of skin, and the subtle wet shlicks when his cock fucked deeper into your wet heat.

"You don't want Grayson hearing you, right?" Price whispered, dragging his teeth along the top of your spine. "You don't want him to hear how good you're getting fucked. Don't want him to hear how wet this cunt is and how fucking desperate it is for my cock. Do you, sweetheart?"

"Un-uhhmmm—" That was meant to be a no.

"S'what I thought," Price increased his pace, dragging his cock hard against your gummy walls, literally pounding you into your mattress. "You're— fuck— you're mine. No one else gets to hear your pretty sounds, or gets to fuck your pretty cunt, but— ah, fuck— me, yeah? Just... fucking... me."

Each word was punctuated by a hard thrust that hit that spot inside you perfectly, and your entire body shuddered as you came around him, crying into your pillows.

He continued to rut into you, grunting deep from his chest, his body curled atop yours while pinning you to your mattress. He cursed, muttering your name around a grunting moan as he came inside you. You whined at the sensation, your cunt clenching around him, milking his release. He groaned, kissing down your back before he pulled out. You felt yourself shiver at the emptiness.

"You alright, sweetheart?" Price asked, gently flipping you onto your back, massaging up your sides.

"Mhm..." You hummed, blinking lazily at the ceiling.

He leaned over you and placed a couple of soft kisses to your mouth. "Was I too rough?"

"No, no, you were good," you reassured him. "Really good. I promise."

"Okay..." Price kissed you again, deeper this time, tongue running along the seam of your lips.

Before the kiss could progress further:

"Price, mate, you up there?" Came your dad's voice from the bottom of the stairs, and both you and Price froze.

Price cleared his throat, shouting back: "Yeah, mate. Just going to the bathroom!"

"Hurry up then! The game's about to start!"

Price shot you an apologetic look as he clambered off of you and began to dress hurriedly. You watched him from your bed.

"There's nothing to be jealous of, Price," you said suddenly, and he paused his actions of buckling his belt. "I only want you."

He grinned, sly, cocking his head. "That so?"

You nodded, smiling with your teeth snagged on your bottom lip in a gesture of bashfulness.

His grin grew while he threw his shirt on. "Good. I only want you, too."

"That so?" You mimicked him, and he chuckled, crossing the room.

He took your head in both of his hands and kissed you. He stroked your cheeks with his thumbs when he pulled away.

"What am I going to do with you..." He tutted, shaking his head.

"A lot of things, hopefully."

"Fucking hell. You'll be the death of me, sweetheart."

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#captainfern #captainfernsalutes #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #captain john price #captain price #fem reader #captain price smut #price x reader #captain john price x female reader #captain’snirvana #john price #captain john price x you #captain john price smut

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lincolndjarin · 10 months

Text

Best Kept Secret

chapter one : honeymoon (RE-UPLOAD)

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

A/N : i had to change accounts so this is a re-upload of my ongoing fic bks!!

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 6.7k

summary : you've been married off to a far away prince, turns out, he isn't your prince charming. however he did gift you a bodyguard as a wedding present.

warnings, etc. : arranged marriage, language

Absurd.

That is the only word that comes to mind as you stare at yourself in the mirror. “His favorite color is blue.” That’s what they had told you when they adorned you with the gaudy sapphire jewelry. “He’s going to love this.” That’s what they had told you as they pinned your hair into uncomfortable curls, braiding in unfamiliar flowers. They were horrendous, far too large and the smell of them nauseated you, or maybe that was just the nerves, who knows. If you were fortunate enough maybe you would discover a surprise allergy to the flowers and your throat would close and your face would turn blue. You wondered if the prince would like that.

Blue had once been a comforting color but not this blue. This blue was intense, harsh, hard to stare at for too long. Nothing like the blue that made you think of home. On the rare days where the snow stopped falling briefly and the sky was clear, Hoth was beautiful. The blue back home was quiet. The color of the sky seemed to swallow the snow and everything became one soft mix of periwinkle. This is not that. This is loud and garish.

The two girls who had been dressing you took a step back and smiled at you waiting for approval as you took in the sight of yourself in the floor length mirror. The dress itself was beautiful, if accompanied by tasteful accessories you might have actually found yourself almost nice to look at. A simple off the shoulder satin gown. On anyone else you were sure it would be absolutely stunning but it was so hot here, nobody had told you it would be this hot. The dress felt as though it was sticking to your skin, you hated the way it made you feel like you were trapped in some sort of fabric prison. But even with the thin sheen of sweat covering every inch of you it was the rest of the ensemble that made you look like you were supposed to be attending some sort of costume party, and not your own wedding. To say that the amount of accessories was excessive would be an understatement. Bracelets, bangles, arm bands, several tacky necklaces, even an anklet you couldn’t even see under the gown. All of the sapphires were so bright they seemed to glow, if you swayed your arms fast enough it almost mimicked the sight of hyperspace. The two ladies-in-waiting who had been assigned to you started to give each other nervous looks as you purse your lips silently taking in the ridiculous blue eyeshadow that adorned your otherwise unmade up face. The young Togruta girl speaks up first.

“Is everything to your liking ma’am?”

No. You look like you should be working in a pleasure house, not marrying a prince.

But the anxiety in her voice is enough to soften your gaze as you speak what might be the first words to leave your mouth since you landed on Naboo. It seemed like everyone was comfortable speaking for you and you knew none of them cared what you had to say so why bother.

“You two have done a wonderful job… thank you.” You turned around to face them, giving them the warmest smile you could muster considering the circumstances. The relief on their faces as you spoke gave you more comfort than you’d had in days. “I am truly grateful to have such wonderful staff, thank you for making me feel so at home. I’m sorry I didn’t catch your names earlier?”

“I am Elaine and this is Lysa.” The Togruta girl is the one who speaks up again, pointing to herself and then to the human girl. They both smiled as they turned you back towards the mirror and began to do last minute touch ups. You all stood in silence once more until Lysa spoke.

“You look so lovely, he is going to adore you.” She spoke softly, almost as if it was meant more for her own comfort than it was for yours as she straightened a flower in your hair.

He. That was how they referred to him. Nobody spoke of him other than to tell you how lucky you were, and how grateful you should be for this opportunity. No one described him to you in the slightest. No one even said his name, you were pretty sure it started with a “K.” Your betrothed was nothing more than a stranger. And as you stared at yourself in the mirror once more that was what you saw. A stranger. You didn’t recognize the woman in your reflection. She was not the young princess from Hoth, she was simply an item to entertain this “he.” Dolled up to be more appealing for a man she had never even met, adorned in his favorite color to make her more attractive to a man she had already decided she did not care for.

“What is he like?” You cocked your head slightly as you deliberately observed the girls facial expressions for a reaction, you immediately regretted that decision because of the glance they gave each other. It was enough to make you not want to know the answer so you quickly stammer out another question. “What does he look like?” The Togruta girl clears her throat, you make a mental note that out of the two girls she seems to be the voice.

“He is very handsome, my lady.” She straightens out your dress one last time and they both take a step back and observe you. “He dresses very well. Just like most of the royal family he has very defined features, striking blue eyes.”

“Oh yes my lady, he is very well known for his beautiful blue eyes.” The human girl smiles at you as she speaks nervously standing behind her partner now. A small part of you started to pray that his favorite color was not blue simply because that was the color of his eyes. They both seem to be struggling to come up with any other defining features of your intended which doesn’t exactly put you at ease.

“He is also blonde.” Elaine chimes in with a reassuring smile as you watch your reflection frown.

You had always had a preference for brunettes.

✩

He could be worse.

That was what you had to keep reminding yourself as you sat now in the large dining hall, it seemed like everyone was laughing and chatting it up except for you. The seat to your left reserved for your husband was empty, you could see him in the crowd toasting with a group of men you assumed were cousins or brothers purely based on the physical similarities. Honestly you wouldn’t be able to tell your husband apart from the rest of them if he wasn’t wearing that horrendous electric blue suit. Your table at the back of the room, facing the rest of the hall, was empty. Save for you and Leodall.

After your husband had so graciously run off after the ceremony to chat it up with his friends or whatever it was that was apparently much more important than you, you were walked to the reception by an orange Twi’lek who introduced himself as your personal servant, Leodall, Leo for short. No one seemed to even glance at you as they began to take to the dance floor. Of course your loving husband didn’t ask you to dance, why would he when he seemed to be taking the hand of a rather pretty red headed girl and wrapping his arms around her waist, laughing as they began to sway to the music. Prince Kodo Harand. That was his name, at least that is what the priest had said during the ceremony. He had given you a rather cocky “hello” once you had walked down the aisle, and he had kissed you with far more tongue than you would have liked, and now you sat alone. Princess Harand. Lucky you. And of course your family wasn’t here to keep you company, you don’t even think they were invited, why would they be? This wedding had nothing to do with you, it had everything to do with finding someone of royal descent to marry the prince of Naboo in exchange for trade deals. You wondered if there had ever been someone who felt as lonely as you did right now, at their own wedding.

“Leo?” You turned to where he was standing directly behind you. He was also staring at the prince with a rather annoyed look on his face.

“Yes my lady?” He turned his gaze to you. He was far too serious for someone who only seemed to be a few years older than you were.

“I am getting rather tired, I should like to retire to my chambers.”

You also should like to not watch my husband dance with some of the most gorgeous girls you’ve ever seen. Seems like he has found a rather attractive brunette now to keep him company on the dance floor. Leo looks to the prince and then back to you.

“It is rather early my lady… perhaps you could stay just a bit longer? It is after all your wedding.”

“Is it?” You couldn’t help but raise your eyebrows at him, gesturing to the empty chairs surrounding you. Before he could object you stood and began marching towards the exit.

“My lady! Perhaps you might enjoy some refreshments! And perhaps you might reconsider your early departure!” Even in the gown you were more agile than him as you weaved through the crowds, waving off muttered “congratulations.” Once through the large doors of the great hall you felt as though you could finally breathe. The halls out here were dark, a few guards seemed to be passing around a flask but they immediately straightened up as they saw you, you pretended not to see them, hoping they might resume they’re drinking. After all, someone should have fun at your wedding. You lifted your skirt slightly and tried to remember where your room was as Leo finally caught up to you.

“Was it right or left…?” You stare down the nearly identical hallways as you hear two sets of footsteps approaching you.

“Wife! Where are you off to? I have a wedding present for you!” How fortunate that you married someone with such a distinct, nasally voice so you can plaster on a faux smile before you face him. You turned to see a disgruntled Leo following behind Kodo. Great. Your clearly drunk husband has a present for you on your wedding night. You have to physically resist rolling your eyes as he takes your hand and begins dragging you towards your chambers, Leo stumbling to keep up with you.

“Are you sure this cannot wait until tomorrow dear husband?” It’s unlikely he’ll want to put this off but there’s no shame in trying.

“No no no… trust me you are going to love this…”

Well he certainly is confident in his abilities.

He stumbles through the many confusing halls of the castle until arriving at your door, stopping just outside. He opens the door just a crack and peers inside before shutting it again, putting his hands on your shoulders, a big dopey grin on his face as he drunkenly slurs.

“I must be getting back to the party my dear wife but your present is inside, I left you a little note on your vanity.” He leans forward and gives you a sloppy kiss, you do your best not to recoil.

“I’m sorry? I don’t quite understand?” You managed to pull him off you long enough to speak. But he’s already walking away.

“Do not fret, wife, you will love it. I will see you at dinner in a few days!” He yells over his shoulder before rushing back down to the party. You turn to stare at Leo who is just as shocked as you are as you can’t help but double over in laughter.

“Is he serious?” You’re laughing so hard you’re practically crying, Leo doesn’t seem to find the situation as funny as you do. You wipe a tear from your lash line as you straighten up. “If our marriage is anything like today has been I suppose it shall not be all that bad.” You manage to say through your laughter. He doesn’t speak, he simply opens the doors to your chambers for you, placing his hand on your back to usher you inside.

“I suppose I should not have expected any less of our prince.” Leo mutters as he closes the door behind the two of you he begins lighting the lamps around the dark room. “Shall I summon your ladies-in-waiting to help you undress my lady?” You open your mouth to answer but you’re stopped dead in your tracks as you stare at the suit of armor in the center of the room. The mannequin it appears to be resting on is rather tall. You can’t help but stare at the way the lamp light flickers against the Beskar. A Mandalorian statue? What an odd gift. You instinctively walk towards it as you mumble.

“That won’t be necessary… it is late, do not wake them, I can do it myself.” Leo looks as if he is about to protest but the note on the vanity catches his eye, he holds it between two fingers and begins to read it to himself as you stand directly in front of the armor now, your fingers raised to trace one of the gauntlets. “It certainly is a beautiful set of armor… I just don’t understand what exactly he wants me to do with it.” You run your hands across the chestplate, admiring the fine craftsmanship before you turn to face Leo, a concerned look on your face.

This better not be a weird sex thing.

“He doesn’t expect me to wear it, does he? Is this some sort of weird fetish of his?” You find yourself looking back to the armor nervously. “It’s far too large for me… I think I would look rather foolish, like a child wearing her mothers clothing...” You bring a hand up to the helmet, a small shiver running down your spine as you stare into the lifeless visor.

“Princess… perhaps you should wait a moment.” Leo stares at the note for a moment more before his mouth opens slightly to speak again as he gives you a warning look. But it is too late, you lift the helmet a fraction of an inch and let out a startled shriek as the armor shifts to grab both of your arms in one large hand, pulling your hand back down.

“Don’t.”

The voice that comes from the modulator is low, it is gentle with you but is by no means joking as he releases his grip on your arm you stumble backwards.

“Maker! You scared me half to death.” You bring your hand up to your chest as Leo rushes to your side to stabilize you, you stare at the Mandalorian in surprise for a moment before your gaze turns angry and you poke a finger into his chest. “What is your problem! Why didn’t you say something!?” He only shrugs in response.

“I was instructed not to speak to you until you read the note.”

Bastard.

Leo leans forward to whisper to you.

“It should appear that the prince has hired the Mandalorian to be your personal bodyguard, my lady.” Leo’s voice shakes as he stares up at the intimidating silhouette of the armored man but you are not so easily swayed, clearing your throat as you speak.

“You are dismissed Leo.” Your eyes never leave the steel visor.

“My lady, are you sure it is wise-”

“If my husband deems him fit to protect me then he is fit to protect me. Unless of course you are questioning the prince’s judgment?” You turn to glare at the Twi’lek who is now nervously tugging at the sleeves of his shirt. He does nothing but stare back at you for what feels like minutes until he finally sighs and makes a beeline for the door.

“As you wish, my lady. Ring for me if you require anything.” He closes the door and you turn back to the Mandalorian, who unsurprisingly hasn’t moved an inch, other than the way his helmet seems to shake ever so slightly but you ignore it as you walk over to your vanity, crumpling up the note and tossing it in the bin before starting to remove your jewelry, setting the ugly pieces onto the table.

“So what exactly is your job?” You don’t give him the courtesy of facing him, not after he scared you like that.

“It was all written in the note.”

It’s annoying how unbothered he sounds. You take off the last piece of jewelry, lifting your skirt and raising your leg to rest your foot on the ottoman to unclasp the anklet, you swear you see his helmet tilt in your direction in the mirror, but when you turn to face him he is in the same position, staring at the wall.

“I don’t care about the note. I want to hear it from you.” You fetch yourself a nightgown as you step behind the screen next to the vanity, carefully slipping out of the dress, out of sight of the Mandalorian.

“My job is to make sure you are not harmed.” He speaks so quietly you’re surprised the modulator even picks up his voice. Once dressed you step out from behind the screen and take a seat at the vanities mirror, wearing a gray silk nightgown. It’s fancier than what you’d usually wear but it doesn’t seem like they bothered to unpack any of your clothes you brought from home. You silently pray that they didn’t throw them away.

“So you just… follow me around?” You can feel the frown forming as you begin to carefully remove the now wilting flowers from your hair.

“Yes.”

Not much of a talker this guy.

“Actually I’m good.” Your voice is snippy and you know you’re being a bit blunt but you’ve had a rough day. Finally, he deliberately moves, his head turning to watch as you undo the pin curls, your hair falling down in waves as you do.

“Excuse me?” Finally, some sign of emotion. Even if it is a twinge of anger.

“Can you not hear through the helmet? I’m good. I’ve already got an ensemble of people trailing me. I don’t need another.” You rifle through the drawers until you find a rag to wipe the makeup from your eyes before turning around to stare at him. “You’re dismissed.”

“You don’t have the authority to dismiss me.” His voice is tense, if you could see his face you were sure he’d be scowling. It’s good to know he is capable of emotion. Even better to know it isn’t difficult to rile him up.

“I don’t know if you know this but I just married the eldest son of the king and queen. That makes me the future queen, I’m pretty sure I have the authority to do whatever I please.” You hadn’t said those words aloud until now, you hadn’t even thought them. It lifted a weight off your shoulders, somehow it made things a bit easier, to know that despite this entire situation you found yourself in that at the very least you found yourself in a position of power.

“I don’t know if you know this, but I have direct orders from the eldest son of the king and queen to not let you out of my site from the moment you leave this room until you return to it.” He mocks your tone exactly as he crosses his arms.

Shit. He’s got you there. Did Kodo have to pick this man to guard you?

“Well… I’m in this room now. So I don’t require your presence. You may go.” You wish you could come up with something more witty but you're tired, you just want to be alone, to have a single moment to try and process what a whirlwind these last few days have been. You swear you hear an annoyed huff come through his modulator.

“I’ll see you in the morning.” His voice is sharp and he speaks with a finality that makes you want to argue further.

But he doesn’t give you time to respond. He simply leaves. Once he is gone you rush to the door to lock it and begin to dim all the lamps in the room. In the pale light you stare at the comically large bed and your stomach drops. For the first time since arriving on Naboo you feel cold. The idea of spending your wedding night in such a big bed alone makes you feel sick. Were the ceilings of this room always so high? You find yourself opening the closet. It’s the size of your room back home, it’s perfect. All of the fabric of the unfamiliar clothes that were now yours made it quiet, and soft, and warm. You grabbed a lamp from one of the many small tables around the room, (who needs this many tables?) and bring it to the closet, closing the door behind you as you rummage through the many drawers until you find one full of blankets and pillows, making yourself a nest before settling down in it. It was just as comfortable as your bed back home and you wrapped yourself around one of the larger pillows.

You wanted to cry.

You should be crying but you're not. You’re just staring at the flickering lamp. There were a million things you could think about to make yourself cry but at this point it wasn’t even worth it. You’re tired, and there will be plenty of time for crying later, after all this was your life now. So instead you closed your eyes and pretended you weren’t here at all, that you were back home, and you weren’t completely alone, your many siblings were just down the hall in their respective rooms. But they aren’t, they’re back on Hoth. You’re on Naboo. They are all still together.

And you are alone.

✩

He won’t leave you alone.

It’s been ten days since the wedding but it feels like ten months. And the Mandalorian will not leave you alone. You have only seen your husband twice since the wedding, short dinners the night of every fifth cycle, last night he had told you that he saw no need to produce an heir until his father died.

How romantic.

But as much as you yearn for companionship you cannot help but be grateful that he has not ever joined you in bed. He doesn’t repulse you by any means but he just seems… indifferent. Like he couldn't care less for you, which is fine considering you aren’t exactly infatuated with him. But you’re lonely nonetheless. Conversations with your husband are one sided, once you realize he doesn’t care for anything that comes out of your mouth your dinners become much less awkward, he would ramble on about anything he found interesting for an hour and then leave. You heard a servant in passing whisper something about him going to a brothel after your second dinner. You wanted to be more upset about that but you just couldn’t find it in yourself to care. As long as it kept him out of your chambers.

Elaine and Lysa are sweet but they are clearly intimidated by you, or at the very least they are afraid of upsetting you. So you’ve found that it’s best to just not talk to them at all unless it is to praise them or thank them. They show up like clockwork every morning to dress you and in the evening to undress you. You’re starting to feel like a doll. But they do not comment on the makeshift bed in the closet so you decide they are your favorites. Leo on the other hand has made it quite clear he doesn’t approve of your sleeping situation, you don’t bother trying to explain yourself because you know he won’t care, so now you let him watch you get under the covers of your ornate bed every night before you retreat to the closet. He can be a bit uptight and he’s terrible at conversation but the best thing about Leo is that he doesn’t hover. You honestly don’t know where he runs off to but he’s always there when you need him and he doesn’t overstay his welcome.

Speaking of overstaying his welcome, you can see the Mandalorian over the top of the book you are currently pretending to read.

He has become your least favorite person in your new life. He is ranked even lower than Kodo. You were currently dedicating your life to exploring every inch of the castle and mapping it out, you had taken to carrying around a small journal and noting locations you liked and places to avoid. This might be an enjoyable challenge if it weren’t for the walking hunk of metal that seemed to always be standing just out of arm's reach from you. It’s infuriating the way he always stands in your peripherals, you are always aware of his presence even when you are doing everything in your power to ignore him.

Neither of you had spoken much since your first meeting. He had been rude, why would you speak to him? (Of course you had been rude as well but that's besides the point.) He waits outside your door every morning, and he is there when you return at night. Two days ago you had daydreamed about escaping out the window to avoid him, but considering your chambers were on the fourth floor you decided against it.

A few days ago was when you had reached your boiling point. He had to sleep eventually, that was what you had told yourself as you opened the door to your chambers at 3 a.m. Under all that metal he was still just a person. (Or at least you were pretty sure he was.) So you donned a robe and a glowrod as you slipped into the hall. For the first time he wasn’t standing there. You just had to find your way to the library, you wanted a few books and you didn’t want to feel his steel gaze judging your every choice, you wanted something cheesy and romantic, something you could read in the closet when you couldn’t sleep. (Which was most nights.) Everytime he followed you into the library you found yourself too nervous to read so now was your chance. Surprisingly it only took you a few minutes to find it. Creeping inside you managed to find five books, clutching them in your arms you stepped back out in the hall and as you closed the library doors as quietly and quickly as you could you turned around and slammed into metal, stumbling backwards and landing on your ass, your books going everywhere.

“Gods…” You groaned in pain as the back of your head knocked against the door, your eyes adjusted to the darkness as the glowrod illuminated a familiar pair of boots. “You are just- the nerve of you- I can’t even begin to-” Your mind stuttered through a million different insults but eventually you just gave up, huffing angrily as you picked up the light, he reached down to help you up and you shoved his gloved hands away. Leaving the books, you storm off, back towards what you hope is the direction of your room. He didn’t speak as he followed silently behind you, the only indication that he was still there was the reflection of the dim light against Beskar. You looked down two hallways trying fruitlessly to remember which way to go.

“Left.”

Maker, he didn’t even sound tired. If looks could kill the glare you gave him as you turned left would have him six feet under. As you finally see the doors to your chamber you sigh in relief, just wanting to forget about this silly attempt to have a moment of normalcy.

“I knew that.” Is all you can manage to mutter, still fuming to the point that you know you can’t form witty insults as you open your chamber doors.

“Sure you did.”

As you turn to give him a piece of your mind you find yourself in the dark corridor alone. Oh you hate him. This is why he is your least favorite.

You don’t know much about Mandalorians, your mother had always said they were dangerous but that was all that was ever said about the topic. He doesn’t seem all that threatening. Sure he’s tall, and his shoulders were ludicrously broad, and he wore impenetrable armor but you’ve been sitting here staring at him for two hours now and honestly you were pretty sure at this point that you could beat him in a fight.

Okay you might be starting to lose it.

You haven’t had a real conversation with anyone since your wedding night, it’s not your fault if you’re starting to feel a little scatterbrained. Maybe you could push him out a window. That armor certainly wouldn’t save him from a fall. That might be too risky, with your luck you’ll end up going out the window with him. As you begin to ponder if Beskar is fireproof a familiar modulated voice breaks the silence causing you to drop your book in shock.

“Don’t.”

In your fantasies of knocking a candle over onto his cape you hadn’t realized his helmet was facing you now.

“You really seem to love that word.” You cock an eyebrow at him. “You also seem to love scaring unsuspecting girls.” You mumble.

“I heard that.”

Stupid helmet with its stupid abilities. You really need to start keeping a list of what that thing is capable of. Maybe the helmet is what makes his stupid voice so deep.

“Of course you did.” You lean back in your chair as you look him up and down. “What exactly is it that you don’t want me doing?”

“Don’t act like you can outsmart me.”

Wiseass.

“I wasn’t doing that, I don’t know if you can see through that visor of yours but I was reading.” You scoff at him as you cross your arms.You hear him hum softly through the modulator as he walks in your direction, standing between you and the book on the floor.

“What were you reading?”

Dank Farrik.

You’re pretty sure you can see his shit-eating grin through the Beskar.

“I’m not even going to humor the accusation you’re getting at.” For a split second you swear you catch the start of a laugh before his modulator cuts it off. Soundproof, you can add that to the list. He leans up against a bookshelf as he stares down at you now.

“Maybe it was another romance novel?” Maker, he's the worst. You fight back the pink that threatens to tint your face as you play dumb.

“I’m sorry?”

“Don’t be.” You wondered if you could have him beheaded. Do they do public executions on Naboo?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about..” Is all you can manage to spit out as you reach to a nearby shelf and grab the first book your fingers touch, it looks to be some sort of architecture guide. Better than nothing. “Leave me be, I’m trying to read.” You open the book quickly and as your eyes glance across the pages, much to your dismay, you don’t recognize the language it’s in, he doesn’t need to know that though.

“You left some books out a few nights ago.”

You try to hide the way your breath hitches. There’s no way he went back for them. Unless he did. Why would he do that though there would be no reason. Why is your heart racing like you’re on trial? Why can’t you stop the pink that tinges the tips of your ears?

“I read a lot of books, you can’t possibly expect me to remember every one.” You turn a page and continue scanning your eyes across the unfamiliar text.

“The Smitten Paladin… My Barbarian Love… Interstellar Bride… The Tongues of-”

“SHUT UP.” You slam the book shut and you can’t fight the rose tint that fills your face now.

“As you wish, princess.”

Oh you were definitely gonna kill him now. How hard would it be to get your hands on a vibroblade…? You didn’t speak now, you couldn’t even look at him. There’s no way he had seen those that night when you dropped them, the bastard went back for them. If you could find out where is quarters were maybe you could smother him in his sleep. You assumed he would resume his mockery of you but he never did, he just stared for several minutes as you returned to your book, doing your best to pretend that you knew what it was about until he finally broke the silence.

“So how were you thinking of doing it?”

“Doing what?”

“Outsmarting me. Or escaping me, or killing me? Whichever one it was you were plotting.”

You wonder if he was sweating under all those layers as you allowed yourself the first indulgence of really taking him in. He wears heavy black fabric under all of his armor. You wore light and flowy dresses and you always felt like it was too hot. You also can’t stop yourself from wondering if he purposefully makes his voice lower, he must scream into a pillow or something to make it that raspy. You didn’t like how warm it suddenly got in here. This stupid planet and its stupid heat.

“Well I can’t just tell you my top secret plans, what will you give me in exchange?” You hated the way his helmet tilted to the side to mimic you.

“How about a walk through the gardens?”

“We have gardens?” Your eyebrows furrow in disbelief, just when you thought you were starting to map this place out… He nods and you ponder it for a moment before holding your hand out for a handshake. “Deal.” He takes your hand in his and gives you one firm shake but you hold him there and stare at his hand. “Your gloves are stupid, why are the fingers yellow?” He groans as he pulls away.

As he pulls his hand back you catch a glimpse of his bare wrist. You hadn’t really thought about what he might look like under the armor up until now. You’re sort of surprised by how tan his skin is. As you stare for what is definitely too long he clears his throat and you find yourself face to face with his visor.

Shit, shit shit.

“Sorry, I got distracted by how stupid your gloves are.”

“Keep talking like that and I won’t take you to the gardens at all.”

“That’s fine, now that I know they exist I’ll just find them on my own.” You stand up, making your way towards the library exit.

“You do realize I follow you everywhere right?”

“You’re very observative aren’t you?” You scoff.

“You won’t find them on your own. You’ve lived here two weeks and you still can’t find your room without help from Leo.”

“This is why you’re my least favorite.”

“What?” He doesn’t even pretend to sound hurt, his voice is filled with genuine curiosity and for a fleeting moment you want to give in because for the first time in weeks you aren’t thinking about how alone you are in a castle surrounded by people. Because for the first time since you arrived on this planet you were having a real conversation, and even though you hated him he was the first person who seemed like he actually cared about what you had to say, and not just because you were royalty and it was his job.

“Do you want to hear about my secret plans or not?” You decide to change the subject and watch as for the first time, he walks next to you, not behind you, as he nods.

“I’d love to know how you plan on getting away from a trained bounty hunter.”

Bounty hunter. You’ll have to ask him about that later if he allows you to keep talking to him. A small part of you hopes that he will.

“I thought I might start by pushing you off of something high up.” You grin at him. You can’t remember the last time you smiled and it wasn’t for the benefit of others.

“Wouldn’t work.”

“Oh come on, your armor isn’t gonna save you from a fall from one of the castle towers-” He pulls back his cape to reveal a jetpack and you shut up. “Okay new plan, I throw your pack off the roof first.” He nods.

“You would never be able to get it off me but sure. Next plan.” Maker, you hate how smug he is. You want to slap the stupid smile you have to assume he is currently donning off of his face.

“Well I really only had two plans, plan number two was to light your cape on fire.”

“Fire’s not gonna kill me, that's just gonna make me angry.”

“Well in that situation I wouldn't be trying to kill you, the fire would be a distraction as I make my escape.”

“There is not a single situation in this world in which you are capable of hiding from me.”

Why does he have to say it so huskily? Why does it suddenly feel so hot in this stupid castle? You decide he deliberately makes his voice sound deeper to make himself more intimidating.

You open your mouth to protest but you remember the bounty hunter thing and decide to save yourself from any more embarrassment. He stops walking and you stare at the familiar doors to your chambers.

“Hey! You promised me gardens!” He opens the door for you before taking a step back.

“It’s too late for gardens. We’ll go tomorrow.” You want to argue, you want to do anything to keep talking to him, even if you loathe him and his terrible attitude. But you don’t want to ruin this, and a part of you likes the prospect of more conversation tomorrow.

“Promise?” You hate how eager you sound.

“Promise.”

You begin to step inside your chambers but he puts a hand on your shoulder. It makes you let out a small gasp as you turn to face him.

“Before you go I have to tell you something, princess.” The voice that comes from the modulator is hushed, he leans in as if he is going to tell you a secret and your eyes get wide, you can see your reflection in his helmet, your face is going pink again.

“W-what…?” It’s embarrassing the way you stutter but he’s so close now that you can’t help it, if he got any closer your breath would fog up the Beskar. You had no idea what he was about to say but for some reason your heart was beating out of your chest. God what is wrong with you today? The heat must be messing with your head.

“It was in Galactic Basic.”

Well now he just wasn’t making any sense. Maybe the heat was messing with his head too.

“I don’t care for riddles.”

“Your book, earlier, the one about architecture. The one that you couldn’t understand.” He takes a step back and you furrow your brows, how the hell did he know you didn’t understand it, but more importantly, obviously you spoke Galactic Basic.

“I didn’t realize you were capable of telling jokes.”

“You were holding it upside down.” His hand drops from your shoulder and he takes a step back, waiting for a response but any snarky comeback dies on your tongue as your face burns up, realizing he’s right. Is he leaning forward in anticipation?

Scumbag.

“Good night, Mando.” As you start to close the door you can hear him chuckling.

“Good night, princess.”

Jackass. You hope that he’s ugly under the helmet.

You also hope he’s brunette.

I am no longer doing taglists so follow @lincolndjarinnotifs and turn on notifications to be notified when new chapters are posted !!

#lincolndjarin #the mandalorian #best kept secret #bks #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #din dijarin x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #RE UPLOAD

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strangerhottotties · 2 years

Text

Sex Tape - E.M.

Summary: Eddie produced a sex tape of himself as a dare and it's been circling the student body. There was a surprising reaction among the female population gravitating towards your best friend and its got you curious despite the mixed bag reaction he got. When a little cassest tape makes its way to you... you know you shouldn't...

Rating: explicit

Warnings: everyone is above 18 in this fic, no minors. Sex tapes, cream pie, dirty photos, blackmail, kinda? Bratty!Reader, Henderson!Reader. Enemiesish to Lovers. Unprotected sex. Mentions of birth control.

A/N: Because I can't stop listening to the sex tape.

"Hold on, I gotta go find my dice!" Eddie Munson heaves a sigh at the kid who reminded him so much of himself and watches said kid sprint into the tidy home.

The only thing out of place was how quiet it was inside.

"Where's your mom?" Eddie calls out.

"Uh... she went on a cruise with a couple of her friends." Eddie shrugs to himself, content to know there was no mother to yell at him about stepping through the front door and treading on her clean carpet.

He's kind enough to shut the door behind him as he follows the direction the kid went slowly, glancing around. It's a little too tidy to be a normal house he thinks. Not a speck of dust and despite the cat that wanders by his feet with a happy chirp, he spots no cat hair.

What the fuck kind of house- nevermind, he spots an imperfection like he's doing a reality check. There's an obnoxious stack of slutty romance novels over flowing on the coffee table.

"I guess your mom's into fantasy, too, huh?" Dustin pops his head out of a room at the end of the hall.

"What?" He then approaches to see what Eddie's gesturing to. "Oh, no, those are my sister's." He mutters.

It strikes Eddie like a harpoon and he whips to look at the pictures he wasn't paying close enough attention to. Oh yes, he forgot about you. Bitchy, mean, and so very pretty.

"She reads dirty romance?" He questions.

"Uh, yeah, I don't get it either," he shrugs heading off to his room again.

"Is she, uhhh... home?" Eddie picks up your senior photo, letting his eyes wonder over the details of your face.

"Yeah, probably," he turns to a different door and bangs on it. "Hey!"

"Fuck off!" Gets called back.

"Hey, what are you making for dinner tonight?" Dustin shouts through the door. He hears a loud groan and the door gets thrown open. You don't notice Eddie when you begin chewing him out, so he just gets to admire the way your tee shirt and underwear cling to you. He thought the mismatched socks were a nice touch but he tilts his head the longer he starts to stare.

"I was in the middle of something!"

Eddie thinks he agrees with that statement as he takes in your shiny red cheeks and wild hair. He begins to approach.

"So?"

"So, you have to bang on the door like that?"

"You've always got your headphones on listening to that stupid red cassette."

"Red cassette?" Eddie demands, your eyes widen in shock when you see him, and then it melts into utter horror. He's only a few slow steps from you.

There was no way.

Eddie wants to kiss the lucky d20 in his pocket that he just so happened to be here in this exact moment. You can't respond for a few moments, words sputter.

"What are you doing here?" You snap finally, defensively closing your bedroom door behind you. Eddie let's out a malicious laugh. It bubbles up and stretches out with his amusement.

"Oh, my, my, my, Henderson. I never knew you had this side to you, I always thought it was science and studying that got you all riled up." Dustin looks more confused between the two of you.

"What?" He asks only to get ignored.

"Your sister's got a pervy little secret," Eddie sings making your cheeks go redder than he's ever seen anyone go.

"I don't think I want to know," Dustin relents, "I'm just going to look for my dice."

You gulp when your brother disappears and your cornered against your door by Eddie Munson, caught red handed.

"You know, I knew it was out of rotation," he starts, eyes dark like you've never seen. "I kept waiting for the principal to show up because he confiscated it, or for some furious boyfriend to come beat the shit out of me when he found it in his girlfriends radio. And all this time," he simmers, lowering himself down into your ear. "All this time, you had it hidden away. I bet that's what you were just listening to, yeah?"

"It's not the same tape," you squeak out, lying through your teeth.

"Then prove it," he hums, leaning back just so he can grin down at you. "Go grab this red cassette that's definitely not my sex tape and this will all be over." You grasp your door handle tightly when he reaches for it.

"Stay out. I have a right to my privacy," you attempt, flustered about being caught in your lie. It was a futile attempt. He gives another evil laugh.

"I have a right to my property though," he replies, licking his lips. You feel so stupid as you fling the door open and stomp into your room. He's on your heel, crowding your space as he makes his way to your bed with you. And what a sight it is.

You'd obviously been listening to it in your bed. The sheet look as though you'd thrown them off, your Walkman is set to pause but he sees it clear as day, in his very own messy scrawl: Eddie Munson from Corroded Coffin proudly presents: His official sex tape.

It's worn down more than he expected.

You fumble as you pick up your Walkman, nudging the eject button and getting frustrated when it sticks. "C'mon, not now," you grunt. You should have burned that stupid tape the moment it landed in front of you.

When you spare a miserable look at Eddie you find his big grin still plastered to his face. Smug as all get out. You thrust the broken machinery at him. "It's stuck," you grunt.

"How convenient. So do you just touch yourself to every night? Are you that mesmerized by my moans?" You flush, knowing he was referring to a particular part of his tape. Hating that you listened in the first time. Instead your just glaring him down in your bedroom.

"I've never- Hey! What are you- uh-" he looks up at your through his eyelashes, smug eyes still twinkling. But two of your fingers were being greeted by his tongue and your head was spinning. He hums around them as your eyes widen and you realize why he was sucking on your fingers.

Eddie was calling every bluff you had in the most unexpected ways. With a final lap to the tip of your finger, he grins. "Then why do your fingers taste like pussy?"

Your eyes dart back to your door, seeing it wide open. There was no recovering from this situation, and Eddie seemed all to pleased. You decide to change how you're handling this and head that way to close your door.

Eddie starts wordlessly stripping out of his jacket when you shut the door, reading you like a book. "Take off your pants," you demand, making him lift his eyebrows.

You'd only been moments away from climax when Dustin rudely interrupted you. You were still incredibly wet, still in need. Why listen to a tape when the real thing what right there.

You peel your top over your head, letting his eyes widen at your breasts. "Oh shit," he breaths and then starts working at his belt furiously. "Okay, get over here," he orders with a jerk of his head. You slip out of your underwear as you agree.

In moments Eddie Munson is pushing you head down into your mattress and pulling your hips higher. "Oh, you could have come to me if you needed me so bad. Promise the real thing is better," he hums, hands rubbing over your ass.

The door rattles under Dustin's fist. "Eddie? Did you guys get it sorted out?"

"Get out!" Your shout is muffled by blankets and Eddie giggles despite the situation.

"Dustin! Go wait in the van! Radio the rest of the party were going to cancel tonight!?"

"What!? Canceled!? But I found my dice!"

"We're a little busy, dude!"

"YOU BETTER KEEP YOUR HANDS TO YOURSELF!"

"Too late."

You gasp when he mutters that to himself and plunges a middle finger into your cunt. Dustin continues to pound on the door. He draws back slowly and your legs tremble.

Dustin gives up a moment later, wandering off to grumble into his walkie.

"Shit, you got so wet listen to me, huh?" You hear the filthy of it as he let's you rock against his fingers with a whimper.

"Hurry up, already."

"Oh, but you look like a kid with their hand in the cookie jar. Just can't help yourself, can you? You just," he groans eagerly at how your flexing around him, "you're really fucking hot right now, Henderson."

"Then fuck me, please," you whine quietly. He makes a delighted noise and his zipper comes down. You can't see it from here but you freeze your squirming the second the head of his cock presses against you. It's like a balm to your frayed nerves.

"Well, when you ask so nicely-" he starts and then let's out a loud, stuttery groan, "fuuuuuuck-right to the bottom!" He praises when you moan into the mattress below him. You both sink against each other to absorb that first push, soaking it in.

Then your lifting your hips and driving down on top of him. There's a whine from you both when it happens and he readjusts to your dismay. "Hey! I didn't say-UHHH!" You cry when he drives in again, setting a brutal pace, already hitting a deeply satisfying spot.

"Would you stop being such a fuckin' brat?" He grunts, forcing your back into a harder arch, your chest pressed completely into the mattress. You nearly sob as he manhandled you into the position he wanted. It feels so fucking good. "This all it takes, Henderson? A big, fat cock and you go all dumb?" His hips are relentless as he barrels into you, so turned on he knows he's not gonna last long. Especially when he's fucking you raw.

Oh, fuck!

He's got a rule about it. Hell, you've got a rule too. He's never broken it, too afraid to knock some poor, unfortunately soul up when he could barely figure his own shit out.

"Shit, babe," he groans out. "Your pussy feels so good like this," he let's out a little whimper that has you tightening around him.

He can both see and feel you tremble beneath him, so fucking close to cumming. He knows it'll set him off and as desperately as he doesn't want it to be over quite yet, he knows it's too much.

Your mutter breaks him out of his trance but he's not sure he heard you right. "What's that, babe. I can't hear you,"

"I-inside..." you whine, body wanting to tremble like an off-balance washing machine. "Want you to- uhhh, cum inside me."

That'll do it. His fingers tighten on you and he can't help himself this one time. Not when you're so kindly inviting him to do it.

With the bed repeatedly slamming against the wall, you hear him give out a loud laugh. It's insane. Normally, unnerving as whatever energy your words gave him has him fucking you so hard that the floodgates open and your cumming hard enough your screaming into the pillows below. You cum from the sound of his laughter as he gives a final jerk and cums hard.

You feel it as you begin to settle with your orgasm. His cock twitches and you feel the warmth of him spurting inside. "O-o-o-o-oh, fuck." He pants with you, watching as you slump against the mattress. He doesn't miss your whimper when his softening cock pulls out. He glances around the room because he saw it somewhere- there! He stumbles off your bed.

"Where are you-"

"Don't fuckin' move."

"Eddie," you whine, but remain in your spot on the bed as he trots to the otherside of the room and plucks something off your desk. You don't get time to look because he's returning behind you and

Flash!

You gasp, jerking up right. "You did not!" Your jaw drops as you turn to find Eddie grinning down at the Polaroid developing in his hand.

"Ohhhhh, that is quite the site." He commends, voice deepening. You lunge, climbing over him to reach for it. Instead he just holds it away.

It's not like you can even tell who it is. It's just a picture of your ass in the air and your cunt leaking his cream pie. "I didn't say you could take a fucking picture!"

"Mmm, no but I say it's an even trade," he hums, free hand tangling in your hair and jerking you to look at his fucked out face. He's flush, eyes lidded like he's stoned, and he's got a lazy smile etched on his smug face.

"Trade?" You demand.

"You keep my dirty sex tape, I keep the photo of you and your mismatched socks." You blush hard, going slack in his arms, unable to believe the words that just came out of his mouth. He wanted you to keep the sex tape? "Can't wait to show this to our kids one day and tell them about our first date."

"What first date?"

"This first date," he grins.

"Gross, you're not showing that to anyone-"

"No worries, princess. I'm sticking it in my wallet and only taking it out in the event I've gotta rub one out."

"I hate you," you groan, falling back. Your elbow hits the Walkman and the eject button finally seems to work. You groan loudly, then chance down a look at Eddie. He's only appreciating the sight before him. "I'm free Friday."

He cocks an eyebrow at you. "Did you just ask me out?"

"I'm not asking, Munson." Your grumpy face doesn't have the same power it normally holds on him.

"Alright, alright, I'll take you to Dinner..." he laughs, climbing over you. "And then I'm gonna fuck you again, but with a condom."

"I'm not dirty," you snap.

"Oh, you fuckin' are," he hums, grinning. "But I'm more worried about knocking you up."

"Fuck you," you grumble, "'mon the pill." Eddie let's out a sigh of relief.

"Thank fucking God! Look at how fuckin' beautiful that is!" He holds up the photo for you to see, it makes you flush hard. "That pussy is gonna get me in so much trouble." It's Dustin banging on the door again that knocks out the mood.

"Eddie! Get out here! We're fighting outside!"

"Oh, brother," you sigh.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fics #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #eddie munson smut

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minisugakoobies · 1 year

Text

Day 6 | KNJ, JJK

Kinks: thigh riding, Santa's lap

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader x Jungkook

Genre: holiday, smut, crack, Woodpeckers!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: swearing, drinking, thigh riding/grinding, OC gets a little possessive and Jungkook likes it, several mentions of erections, implied double stuffing, stupid party games, the members are all dressed as sexy Santas wearing chaps, user of the word 'Peckerhead' as a term of endearment, Hoseok's hips are a threat, so are the Namtiddies, it's just a bunch of very hot men doing very dumb but sexy things involving thrusting and teeth and wet t-shirts, I will not apologize for how stupid this is

Word Count: 3.8K

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: Welcome to the Annual Woodpecker Holiday Games! Have a seat on Santa’s lap and pick out your package - nice girls get one, but naughty girls get two!

A/N: This one's for you, @minttangerines 💜 Thank you for bringing the idea of "Woodpeckers" to my attention! This is just… *presses fingers to mouth in deep contemplation* This is just the dumbest thing I've ever written, maybe. And yet, so hot. I hope you enjoy it.

Uhhhhhh so I wrote the description for this before I wrote the actual fic so it's really more JK x reader with bonus Namjoon? But whatever, you're here for the chaos and the smut, so onwards!

Please don’t be a silent reader 🥺 I’d love to know what you think! 💕

Day 5 ❄️ Kinkmas Masterlist ❄️ Day 7

Jungkook takes one last look at himself in the mirror, adjusting the straps on the suspenders draped down his bare chest with a sigh. He looks ridiculous. But as Namjoon reminded him when he gave him the costume earlier today, “It’s not for you, it’s for the customers.” Jungkook understands that everything he does here is for the customers’ satisfaction. And he’s fine with that.

He’s always been a giver.

Jungkook’s only been a server at Woodpeckers for a month, but he feels like he’s got a pretty solid handle on the place. It’s the trashy male equivalent of a Hooters, except the servers here aren’t wearing tight shirts. No, usually Jungkook’s walking around in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants and a smile, ready to show his tables a good time.

Tonight’s a little different. The restaurant is closed for the Annual Woodpecker Holiday Games. The tables in the main room have been pushed back to create a little stage area. The kitchen staff is working on appetizers and snacks, the bar staff is mixing up holiday concoctions, and the other servers are currently lined up on the stage in their matching costumes.

Jungkook feels a little better knowing he’s not the only one who looks insane right now. It’s a wild outfit that their manager Yoongi picked out this year - everyone’s shirtless as usual, with tight bright red briefs worn under red velvet chaps that fall to mid-thigh and are ringed with white fur. The chaps are attached to a big black belt and suspenders, and the entire ensemble is topped off with a Santa hat. Jungkook fiddles with his suspenders again. He looks like the world’s horniest Santa, an epithet he’s not entirely happy to hold.

But clearly Yoongi knew what he was doing, because the audience gathered here is eating it up. This crowd paid to be here tonight, selling out the tickets for the event in mere minutes, and Jungkook knows they’re expecting a good show. He’ll do his best not to let them down.

“Ho ho ho and welcome to the Annual Woodpecker Holiday Games!” Yoongi announces, speaking into the karaoke mic that he’s repurposed for tonight’s games. “The open bar is now open, so please grab some Jingle Juice or a mistletoe shot while the staff prepares for our first game!”

Yoongi starts chucking white bundles at the staff and Jungkook unfurls his to find it’s a plain t-shirt. He cocks an eyebrow at Namjoon, his trainer.

Namjoon shrugs. “Wet t-shirt contest.”

“Really? That seems so… basic,” Jungkook says as he pulls the shirt over his head. He wasn’t sure what to expect tonight, since no one had bothered to tell him the roster of games ahead of time, but he figured they’d be a little wilder.

Namjoon grins, dimples popping. “It’s all about giving them what they want,” he replies, nodding his head towards the crowd. “And sometimes they just want wet tiddies.”

“Alright!” Yoongi claps from his perch on a stool near the front of the room. “Let the games begin!” Music starts thumping as he gestures to the line of servers. “Time to get wet, boys!”

The game starts with head server Hoseok slowly pouring water over himself, treating the audience to some sensational body rolls as he does so. Taehyung goes next, and rather than drag it out like Hoseok, he dumps the entire pitcher of water over his head at once, then shakes his thick fluffy hair like a dog, spraying some of the ladies in the crowd who shriek in delight. Head bartender Jin uses two cups instead of a pitcher, spinning in place as he soaks himself. Jimin, ever the showoff, puts a tray of water down on the floor, then does a dolphin kick into it, his chest dripping as he rises back up.

Jungkook bites his lip while he waits for his turn. His competitive side is roaring to life. What can he do to make sure he wins?

Next to him, Namjoon teases the crowd a little, flexing his massive pecs under his shirt as he dumps water over them, and the screaming in the audience gets louder as he makes them dance to the beat.

“Thank you, Namjoon!” Yoongi intones as the screams die down. “And now, time for our newest server, Jungkook! Peckerheads, let him know you’re ready!”

The crowd gets loud again when Yoongi refers to them by the restaurant’s affectionate name for its customers. Jungkook quickly grabs four cups from the bar and fills them, then he walks into the audience.

“Oh, looks like Jungkook’s gonna need a little help here! Won’t you help him out?”

Hands fly into the air as audience members beg Jungkook for a cup. As he hands them out, a familiar face catches his eye. One of his repeat customers, a face he’s always happy to see on one of his shifts - you. With a wink, he gives you the last glass. Then he starts thrusting to the beat, motioning for you and the others to douse him, and the air is filled with splashes of water as Jungkook gets soaked.

“Thanks, ladies,” he murmurs as the last drops drip down his torso. He rakes his hand through his wet hair and there’s a collective moan from the audience as he walks away.

It’s no contest. Jungkook wins the first round.

There’s a little break while the servers remove their sodden shirts and towel themselves off. This gives the audience time for more drinks, and Namjoon motions for Jungkook to join him at the bar for shots as well. Jungkook doesn’t drink on the job, but this is technically a party, so why not?

“All right, let’s keep the festivities going, shall we? Gentlemen, please grab your boxes!”

Jungkook is handed a tissue box with straps. The box is stuffed with ping pong balls.

“Uh…” he looks at Namjoon questioningly.

“Like this.” Namjoon demonstrates by tying the straps behind his back, so that the tissue box hangs in the front of waist like a giant ugly belt buckle. “Don’t drop any of the balls yet.”

“O… kay.”

“Peckerheads, if you’ll take your seats again, it’s time for everyone’s favorite - Bounce Those Balls!” Yoongi hits an air horn effect.

Jungkook is totally lost. Jimin sees this, and leans over.

“It’s like twerk pong. You know twerk pong?”

Jungkook shakes his head. He does not know twerk pong.

Jimin grins. “It’s a stupid tiktok thing, people put balls in these boxes and then wear them on their butts. The goal is to be the person to ‘twerk’ the balls out the fastest. Only we don’t twerk here. We thrust.”

Jungkook nods. “Got it.”

“Okay, once the beat drops, the game begins. On your marks, gentlemen!” Yoongi cues up another bass-heavy song, and Jungkook and the other servers start to thrust.

Ping pong balls fly everywhere, bouncing off chairs, tables, even audience members’ faces as the servers shake their moneymakers as hard as they can. The crowd is screaming their faces off, cheering on the men, and Jungkook lets the energy fuel him as he pumps away.

Despite how hard he’s thrusting, it’s taking a shockingly long time for his box to empty. Jungkook glances down the line at the others. Jimin is twisting his hips more than he’s thrusting, so he’s no competition. Namjoon and Jin are both dancing rather sensually, to Jungkook’s surprise, and have barely lost any balls. Meanwhile, Taehyung’s doing the robot, having apparently forgotten the object of the game.

But Hoseok. Hoseok’s got this intense look on his face that makes Jungkook shudder in fear. And the man is jackhammering like a machine, balls shooting out two by two like they’re lining up for the Ark. It’s impressive. It’s aggravating. It’s honestly a little terrifying.

And it’s enough for Hoseok’s box to empty first. Jungkook grits his teeth as Yoongi announces the winner. It’s fine. He’ll win the next one.

There’s another break as appetizers are brought out for the crowd by the kitchen staff, all of whom are in very high spirits tonight since none of them have to wear the sexy Santa costume the servers are stuck in. Jungkook ignores their snickering and sidles up to the bar.

“Are you having fun, rookie?” Namjoon asks, handing him two more shots.

Jungkook shrugs, downing one. “I almost had that last contest.”

“If it makes you feel better, Hoseok wins that one every year. Man’s got the hip flexors of a god.” Namjoon rolls his eyes. “But look, none of this really matters, you know? It’s not like you get anything if you win the most games. It’s all-”

“For the customers, I know, I know.” It’s hard to quiet his competitive nature once it’s awake. Jungkook tips back his second shot. He fumbles the glass as he places it back on the counter, and it shoots across and down onto the floor behind the bar, where it promptly smashes. “Whoops.”

He quickly ducks behind the bar to clean up his mess, not wanting to disturb Jin while he’s serving customers. While Jungkook’s crouching down with a dustpan, snippets of conversation float down to him.

“So, how are you enjoying your first Games?” someone asks.

“Mmm, honestly, I think you undersold them.” Jungkook recognizes your voice. “You didn’t say anything about those costumes, first of all.”

“That’s because they’re new!” The other voice giggles. “You should’ve seen last year’s, they were so freaky - just banana hammocks with reindeer faces. It’s a little weird when you see someone and all you think is, damn, Rudolph’s hung!”

Jungkook grins to himself, suddenly happy with this year’s costume choice.

“That does sound weird,” you agree. “But listen, I am struggling not to just stare at Jungkook’s dick in those briefs!”

Jungkook freezes. He looks up at the bar, but he can’t see anything from this angle. He’s not about to stand up right now, though.

“I don’t think they care if you stare,” the other person states. “I’m pretty sure that’s the whole point of those outfits.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you sigh. “I just can’t help it, you know? I mean, god, that thing looks heavy. I bet it would feel so comforting if I held it in my mouth. Like a weighted blanket for my tongue.”

“A weighted blanket?! You’re such a weirdo!” The words are accompanied by tons of delighted giggles.

“Whatever. I just want to suck him off so bad.”

Well, now Jungkook definitely can’t stand up, because the outfit you’re discussing is doing absolutely nothing to hide his erection.

“Damn, I thought you had a thing for Namjoon?”

“What, I can’t find more than one guy hot? Are you rationing my thirst?” you laugh. “Look at those two men and tell me you wouldn’t want to be the filling in a Woodpecker Oreo! Double stuffed, extra cream!”

There’s more wild cackling and then your voice drifts away. As Yoongi takes up his mic again, Jungkook stands, adjusting himself carefully. He manages to get himself under control quickly, thanks to some strategically placed ice cubes. But he feels more motivated than ever as he rejoins the other servers on the makeshift stage.

“It wouldn’t be Christmas without some presents, now would it?” Yoongi asks, holding up a little bag. “There’s a number on the back of your tickets. If I call your number, please join me here on the stage.” Yoongi rifles through the bag, pulling out slips of paper and calling out numbers until there are six audience members on stage. You’re among them, Jungkook notes, and his curiosity about the next game goes through the roof.

Yoongi cuts his mic as he explains the game to the audience members, all of whom have taken a little gift bag from him and are heading back into the hallway that leads to the bathrooms. Jungkook turns to Namjoon, who shrugs.

“I dunno. This is a new one.”

When the audience members return, Jungkook does a little double take. Each one is now wearing a bright green pair of underwear overtop their clothes. Each pair of green panties is patterned with a vibrant red bow in the front.

“Gentlemen, if you’ll just step aside, our chosen Peckerheads are going to line up across the stage, yep, just like that, thank you folks. Now, gentlemen, please pick your gift out of the line, and stand in front of them.”

Jungkook nearly hip checks Namjoon out of the way to stand in front of you. You grin at him, eyes wide with excitement. He grins back.

“Now, gentlemen, please kneel.”

The room fills with whoops as the servers all drop to their knees. Jungkook glances up at you, enjoying the way you press your fingers into your cheeks, like you’re flustered to see him in that position. So he milks it a little, licking his lip ring before winking at you, and he can’t help but laugh when you cover your face with your hands.

“Alright boys, since you’ve all been so good this year, you get to open your gifts early. The object of the game is to remove the wrapping as quickly as you can. But! We here at Woodpeckers are consummate professionals, so we’re not going to be ripping it away with our hands like animals.”

“Oh,” you breathe as you realize what Yoongi means. Jungkook smirks, eyeing the panties sitting over your jeans. Trying to find the right angle of attack.

“That’s right. Keep those hands behind you at all times. The first server who completely removes their wrapping paper using nothing but their teeth wins. But remember, boys, these are precious packages in front of you, so please do handle them with care.”

Jungkook can hear the joy in Yoongi’s voice. He knows his manager is thoroughly enjoying himself tonight. But he’s not looking at him, because he can’t seem to take his eyes off yours.

“Be gentle,” you whisper, lips quirking in a tiny smile.

“Is that what you really want?” Jungkook replies with a raised eyebrow.

Your eyes widen. Slowly, you shake your head.

“Good. Do me a favor and spread ‘em.” He nods to your legs. You obey his command, lip tucked between your teeth, and he has the sudden urge to stand up and tug it out with his own teeth.

“And three, two, one - go!”

Jungkook leans forward. Tilting his head to the side, he bites down on the crotch of the panties.

And in one swift move, rips it out completely.

He can hear the crowd screaming behind him as he sits back on his heels, green silk hanging between his lips while he gazes at you. You look like you’re frozen, torn between running away and eating him. He kinda hopes you pick the latter.

“We have a winner!” It’s not Yoongi yelling that but your friend, the one he’d overheard you talking with at the bar. Jungkook turns to find her jumping out of her seat, waving her arms and pointing at him.

Yoongi drags the mic over with him to inspect Jungkook’s work. “What are you talking about? He only ripped out the crotch!”

“Yeah? And??”

Yoongi scoffs, walking back to his stool to watch the other servers continue the challenge. Jungkook doesn’t even bother to look at how they’re doing. Instead, he rises up on his knees a little to finish the job, smoothly tugging the panties down one thigh, then the other, back and forth until they’re low enough that gravity takes them the rest of the way to the ground.

“You, uh, you didn’t have to do that,” you tell him, sucking in a shaky breath. “They already said that Taehyung won.”

“I know,” he grins. “But I always finish what I start.”

The grin remains on his face as he watches you return to your friend in the crowd. Namjoon offers him a hand as Yoongi announces one last break. “You look like you’re finally enjoying yourself,” he informs Jungkook.

“I am.” Jin slides them both a shot as they belly up to the bar again. “What about you? You having fun?”

Namjoon shrugs. “I always enjoy these parties, but tonight’s been a little on the tame side, if you ask me.”

Jungkook nods thoughtfully before tossing back his shot. “Maybe we should do something about that.”

The final game is another new one to Jungkook - the lap game. A ring of chairs has been set up on the stage area. The servers sit in every third chair, while the others are empty. Yoongi once again rattles off a series of numbers and slowly the chairs fill up with audience members - including six who take a seat right on the servers’ laps.

“I know a lot of you remember this one from last year, but if you’re new, don’t worry, it’s simple. I’m going to ask some questions. Some are yes or no questions. If your answer to the question is ‘yes,’ you’ll move one chair to your left. If your answer is ‘no,’ you’ll move one chair to your right. Other questions will have specific moves - like ‘If you’re not wearing underwear, move two seats.’ That kind of thing.”

Jungkook leans around the customer in his lap and glances around the circle. Most of the group is paying no attention to the instructions, either out of drunkenness or distraction, like the customer currently bouncing on Taehyung’s knee. This is going to get messy real fast.

“If there is a person already in the seat you’re moving to, congrats, they are now your seat. The boys are permanent chairs, meaning they won’t move. The game is over when the first Peckerhead makes it all the way around the circle and back to their original seat!” Yoongi pauses. “Okay, that sounded like a lot, in retrospect. Who the fuck cares, let’s go!”

It takes about three questions before the chaos begins. Two seats away from him, Namjoon has two customers in his lap, one on each thigh. He looks completely comfortable, unlike Jimin, who somehow has three, stacked one on top of another. Jungkook doesn’t pay any attention to the questions, just smiles politely at all the customers who end up in his lap for a turn or two before moving on.

And then you plop yourself down on his leg.

“Hi!” you beam, glancing over your shoulder to look at him.

“Hi,” he echoes. Then he pauses. “Did Yoongi call your number again?”

“Oh, no, uh, he called my friend’s number, but she said she didn’t want to play this year. Something about an elbow and a black eye?” You shrug, unconcerned for your own health despite how rowdy this year’s game is already getting.

Yoongi calls out another question and some of the customers rotate. A woman to Jungkook’s right knocks another off of her chair and Hoseok tries to help her back up, sending the two women in his lap teetering to the floor. Yoongi sighs loudly into the mic.

“It’s getting a little crazy out here,” Jungkook laughs. He slips his hands around your hips, sliding you back on his thigh a little. “I better hold on to you.”

“Mmm, yeah, you heard what Yoongi said earlier. Handle me with care, please,” you giggle, squirming a little as he tightens his grip. Your laughter is so sweet, a welcome respite from the shrieking going on around him as others move again.

Your fingers play with the fur cuff on Jungkook’s velvet chaps. “So, you’re supposed to be Santa, right? Sexy Santa, or whatever?”

Jungkook nods, though you can’t see him with your back pressed against his chest. “Yeah, that’s the idea.”

“Okay. Then, do you want to know what I want for Christmas this year?” You glance down at him, a shy smile on your face.

Another customer tries to sit on Jungkook’s other leg and immediately your shy smile dissolves, becoming a fierce glare. “I think Yoongi said to move two seats,” you snap, hand covering Jungkook’s other thigh possessively, and the other woman flinches, nodding in agreement, moving away quickly. Jungkook’s 99% sure that Yoongi in fact said to move only one seat.

You turn back to Jungkook with an innocent expression. “So? Do you want to hear my wish?”

Jungkook’s so turned on, he’s praying to the underwear gods that his briefs don’t snap from the force of his erection. “I’m pretty sure I can guess.”

“Is that so?” You squirm again, and Jungkook realizes you’re not reacting to the strength of his fingers as they dig into your sides. He flexes his thigh and gets his confirmation in the form of a low hiss. “Shit!”

“Yep. Just as I thought.” The circle shifts around him. “You really haven’t done any of the stuff Yoongi’s said?”

“Huh?”

“The questions. You haven’t moved for the last five rounds.”

“Oh. That’s because I stopped listening when I sat down,” you confess, grinning at him. “I’m not here to play the game, I’m here to play with you.”

Jungkook tongues his lip ring, rocking you back on his flexed thigh again. You stifle a moan, fingers curling into fists, and he does it again. “Well then, let’s play.”

As the game falls apart around him, Jungkook focuses all his attention on your reactions to his movements. He rolls your hips back and forth, sliding you more firmly into him when your strangled sighs start to get louder.

Yoongi finally stops asking questions, since more than half the circle is no longer listening, too caught up in their own debauchery, and Jungkook sees his opportunity. He leans forward, pressing his lips against your ear.

“There’s a supply room between the bathrooms. Meet me there in five minutes.” With one final squeeze, he releases his hold on your hips. You glance back at him for a moment before you rise and walk away.

Five minutes later, he knocks on the door. You open it and let him slip past you into the room. As you go to shut the door, a large hand slaps against it, holding it open.

“Hold on.” Namjoon grins as you step back to let him in. “Now you can lock it.”

“Um. What are we…” you trail off, gaze bouncing between the two men.

“We’re here to fulfill your Christmas wish.” Jungkook grins at your confused expression. He loops an arm around your waist, pulling you against his chest, as Namjoon slides behind you, hands rubbing circles over your hips. “I told you I knew exactly what you wanted, didn’t I?”

“You did,” you say slowly, practically hypnotized by Jungkook’s tongue as he licks his lips. “But how…?”

“Four little words,” Jungkook smirks. You gasp as Namjoon’s lips trace along the back of your neck, and close your eyes when Jungkook drags his mouth down your jaw. “Double stuffed, extra cream.”

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blog-name-idk · 1 year

Text

Mold a Pretty Lie | 08

Pairing: professor!Jin x Fem undergrad!Reader

Genre: College!AU, Unhealthy relationships, toxic relationships, virgin reader, eventual yandere, eventual smut

Summary: They say love is like a garden that requires regular care and attention. Kim Seokjin, your kind and handsome professor, is more than happy to cultivate the vines that bind his heart to yours.

Word Count: 6746

Rating: 18+

AN: TY to my beloved @matchy6812 and @madbutgloriouspond (whom this fic is FOR 💜💜💜) for beta-ing and general awesomeness and support. Also I T ' S H A P P E N I N G ! ! !

~~~~~

"This is highly inappropriate," you heard Dr. Kim arguing as you tried to wrap your head around what the concierge had just said. "What about the rooms for my colleague and their student?"

"Unfortunately the university already canceled their reservation," the receptionist replied apologetically after clicking through the computer. "It looks like when their rooms were canceled, they accidentally included a third. We can have a cot put into your room, but otherwise we are completely booked for the conference, along with most of the hotels in the area."

Sharing a room? With your beautiful professor? Who you had kissed and still couldn't stop thinking about despite all common sense telling you to stop? What even was your life right now?

Your chest twisted guiltily as you caught the frown on Dr. Kim's face, killing any of your budding excitement. How could you feel that way when you had already put him in an uncomfortable position? And it would probably look strange or suspect for him if word got out that he shared a room with a female student, no matter how necessary the circumstances.

"Professor," you began, feeling your face warm when he turned to look at you. "I'm fine with whatever you decide. If this is the only option then I promise I'll do my best not to bother you."

Dr. Kim stared at you with an indecipherable expression on his face, his normally friendly gaze so intense you began to twist at your shirt. Did he really despise the idea that much?

"Let me make a few calls first," he finally replied, pulling his phone out and walking a short way away, leaving you standing awkwardly with your carry-on. God, you had really fucked up when you had kissed him. Why did you have to be such an idiot? He obviously didn't believe you wouldn't do something, he was just too kind to tell you to your face.

Feeling morose, you moved out of the way so others could check in, and settled yourself on a couch in view of your professor.

"Can I take your bag, miss?"

You started when a bellboy appeared by your side, a smile on his face as he held his hand out questioningly.

"Oh – thank you, but not quite yet," you answered apologetically, smiling back at him. "We're trying to figure out a mix-up with reservations, we were supposed to have separate rooms."

You meant it as an explanation because you didn't want your professor to look like some opportunistic predator, but for some reason the bellboy's smile brightened.

"It happens sometimes," he agreed, giving you a commiserating look that made you feel a little better about the awkward situation. "Is this your first time in the area?"

"Yeah, me and my professor are here for the conference," you replied, relieved he didn't seem to think anything odd about the situation. He didn't look that much older than you, and you wished the other student was here so you would have had someone else your age to talk to. It really sucked that she had won and couldn't even make it. "There were supposed to be a couple others, but they got sick."

"Well, if you get tired of hanging out with a bunch of old brainiacs I wouldn't mind showing you around."

The offer took you by surprise, and you felt a moment of panic. Was he being friendly or was he hitting on you? Why were you even full of yourself enough to believe he was hitting on you?

"Um, that might be nice," you began cautiously, at a complete loss for what to say. He was kind of cute, and maybe it would be better to spend time away to lower the probability of making an idiot out of yourself again. But he was a total stranger whose name you didn't even know. And what would Dr. Kim think if you left the hotel just to hang out with some random guy after the whole Taehyung thing?

"I believe that couple needs help with their luggage."

You looked up to see that your professor had joined you, and was looking at the bellboy with narrowed eyes and something very near a glare.

"Of course, sir," the bellboy nodded politely before turning back to you. "I'll be working here til four if you end up having time."

With a grin that was now definitely flirtatious, he turned to go back to work, leaving you with your frowning professor. You felt yourself wilting at the disapproval emanating from his form, until he turned to you and his face softened.

"Is everything alright?"

What did that mean? The bellboy hadn't really been bothering you, necessarily. Or was he talking about the rooming situation? Was he concerned that you would neglect the conference to go gallivanting with some stranger? Perhaps he really did just think you were a flighty party girl.

No, he knew you took your work and responsibilities seriously. Hadn't he praised you enough, even offered for you to continue working with him despite all of your embarrassing missteps?

"Um, yes, why wouldn't it be?" you asked tentatively, peeking up to see that Dr. Kim's smile had tightened at your words. Was he annoyed that you might spend time with the nameless bellboy? Or were you just projecting something you wished was the case?

"The keynote speech starts early tomorrow, and the student talks are right after," he finally replied. "I wouldn't suggest staying up too late tonight."

So he did think you might go off with the bellboy. And he wasn't bothered by that, but because he thought it might affect your presentation. Great. Just great.

"Thanks, professor," you said with a sigh, hoping you could somehow change however he saw you to a responsible adult. "I didn't particularly want to spend time with a stranger but I didn't want to be rude."

"Always so considerate," he teased, his face relaxing. To your relief, he smiled at you and held out a hand to help you up. "You're allowed to be selfish too, you know."

You took it, despite not needing the aid. His skin was warm against yours, and he tugged a little harder than you expected, bringing you close. His dark eyes gazed down at you and you stared back, completely bewitched.

"Am I?" you asked a little breathlessly before you could stop yourself, drawn to him as if invisible tendrils were binding your heart onwards. His eyes widened in surprise, and you suddenly came to your senses, letting go and turning to adjust the zipper on your carry-on. "Er, so were you able to figure something out?"

You internally cringed at your obvious behavior and terrible subject change, too embarrassed to look back at Dr. Kim. Why did you keep doing this?

"Unfortunately there aren't any other options," was the unexpected reply. "I hate to ask this of you, but…"

He trailed off and you turned back to look at him in surprise. Dr. Kim was still open to the idea? Even after you had just – whatever you had just done? And he was acting as if it was an imposition on you, letting the two of you pretend you weren't constantly embarrassing yourself. He really was too good to you.

~~~~~

The hotel room was at least decently sized and would fit the promised cot easily, though Seokjin wasn't sure how he would be able to sleep knowing you were right there, so near and yet out of his reach. But the sight of the obnoxious bellboy making eyes at you had him hanging up the phone and striding towards you before anyone even picked up.

And despite your assurances to the contrary, over your shoulder he had seen the bellboy glance your way. He didn't trust the boy not to show up to your room unannounced if he managed to find some alternate accommodation, and well – if sharing meant he'd be able to keep a better eye on you then perhaps that was the best option anyway. Besides, it was already late enough that finding a new place would have taken too long for a decent night's rest.

It would be fine. He was an adult, not some hormonal college kid who couldn't keep it in his pants. He had enough self-control not to take advantage of a student. No matter how captivating you happened to be, or how much you consumed his thoughts.

"Professor, I'm done in the bathroom."

Your quiet voice broke through his inner musings and he looked up, only to wish he hadn't. You were wearing an oversized t-shirt that almost hung off your shoulder, revealing a tempting amount of collarbone. Your bare legs taunted him, and Seokjin wondered whether you were wearing shorts under your shirt.

You had also washed your face, looking so soft and sweet he felt his own ears heating up as he drank you in.

"Thanks, [y/n]. I might shower, so feel free to turn off the lights as long as you keep one of them on so I don't embarrass myself by running into anything."

Seokjin swallowed hard, unable to miss the way your eyes had widened when he said the word shower. Your gaze darted to the bathroom, then back to him with an expression that was slightly hazier than before.

He knew you were still attracted to him. It was obvious in the way your breath quickened when he gave into temptation and let himself touch you with seemingly innocuous gestures, in the way your eyes always sought him out first in a room.

He knew he was to blame. Jin was supposed to know better, to be better, but every time you smiled he found it difficult to care.

Now here the two of you were, alone in a hotel room, protected only by the fraying strands of his self control. He couldn't stop himself from wondering what thoughts were swirling behind those pretty eyes of yours. Were you picturing what it might be like for you to join him?

His pants tightened at the thought of you bare and wet with water rolling down your soft skin, and he suppressed a groan as he tore his eyes away from you and gathered his things. Well fuck, now he really needed a long shower.

Seokjin let himself stand under a blast of cool water, willing himself to calm down and stop thinking of you. Unfortunately his traitorous brain had other plans, tormenting him with the hint of collarbone you had shown, your pretty lips, and the way your eyes had darkened at the thought of him in the shower.

"Fuck," he groaned quietly, wrapping his hand around his hard length as he gave in. Had he locked the door? Did it even matter? What if you came in, clothes already off to slip into the shower with him?

You would probably look uncertain, embarrassed by your boldness, and he would kiss the hesitation off your face until you were soft and yielding in his embrace. You would let out that little sigh he couldn't erase from his mind and wrap your arms around his shoulders while the water ran over the two of you, washing away any evidence of his sins.

What other sounds could he coax out of you? Jin let out a little groan as he pumped harder, haunted by the enticing whimpers and moans he pictured leaving your lips while he explored everything your body had to offer.

And you were such a good girl. You might sink to your knees before him, looking up at him with wide eyes for permission before wrapping your pretty, perfect lips around his cock.

You would struggle with his size, eyes watering as you tried to take him deeper despite gagging on his length. But you would persevere, staring up with him with glassy, determined eyes as you swallowed around him.

"Fuck, fuck," he cursed softly through gritted teeth, feeling his balls begin to tighten. He sped up his pace, hips thrusting into his grip as images of you, perfect and pliant, flooded his mind. "Shit, [y/n]."

As soon as your name left his lips and he came hard, groaning as ropes of thick, white cum swirled down the drain. Along with his pride and dignity. He shuddered in pleasure, panting as he let go of his softening member, and closed his eyes as guilt began to set in.

In the clarity of his release, he let the cool water wash over his burning skin as he stood, dumbfounded and unsure of what to do next. How could he go out there and face you after this? Could he even look you in the eye, knowing that this had really been only the tip of the iceberg of the depraved things he wanted to do to you?

There was a knock on the door and he jumped, heart pounding. You wouldn't… would you? His cock gave a traitorous twitch.

"Professor," you called through the closed door. "I'm going to bed. I'll leave the reading light on for you."

"Okay, good night, [y/n]," he called back, surprised by the steadiness of his voice. At least he wouldn't have to face you until tomorrow morning.

When he finally left the bathroom, already wearing his pajamas, you were nestled under the covers of the cot and fast asleep. He gave a fond, exasperated sigh - the two of you had argued long and hard over who would get the bed, and he assumed he had won. He smiled at your sleeping face, your mouth a little open, almost forgetting his earlier shame in the surge of fondness that filled his chest.

"Sneaky," he murmured appreciatively before moving to the large queen-sized bed and pulling back the covers. He paused, then padded quietly back to your sleeping figure and pulled off your covers gently before his breath hitched. Your shirt had ridden up past your hips, exposing your bellybutton and a mouth-watering expanse of bare skin. You were in fact wearing shorts, not that it made much of a difference considering how tiny they were, and Jin swallowed hard as his eyes roved over your defenseless form. You were so beautiful it hurt, and before he could stop himself he was brushing a stray lock of hair out of your face.

A sleepy little grumble made him freeze, but when you made no other motion or noise he relaxed. As gently as he could, he slid his arms beneath you to pick you up, and you instinctively snuggled into his chest, making his heart jolt.

Your body nestled perfectly against his, and he couldn't resist brushing his nose against your hair to take in the scent of your shampoo. Then he forced himself to deposit you onto the queen bed, resisting the urge to crawl in next to you, and tucked the covers firmly around your sleeping figure.

When he finally burrowed into the sheets of the cramped cot, he stared up at the ceiling, mind racing. The pillow smelled like you, and he breathed in, feeling your scent wrap its sweet tendrils around his heart.

He was so fucked.

~~~~~

You awoke to the sound of two alarms ringing, feeling comfortable. Too comfortable.

Your suspicions were confirmed when you sat up and realized you were in the queen bed. Chagrin warred with embarrassment when you realized he must have carried you into bed, and you felt warmth flood your body at the thought of your professor's arms around you.

Part of you wailed that you had slept through it. Another part of you was relieved, because you weren't sure if your heart could have taken it if you were awake.

You looked over to the cot to see Dr. Kim sprawled out on it, mouth hanging open as his feet almost dangled off the edge, and had to suppress a giggle. He looked almost comical in the cramped space, and he seemed to be wearing a matching pajama set with cute llamas dotting the fabric.

It was disarming to see him looking so silly and casual, a far cry from the polished professor you were used to. You had always seen him as perfect and put together, far out of your league and impossible to reach. But like this he looked so young, and for a moment you let yourself dream.

Still, you weren't going to let him get away with it no matter how cute he looked.

Nodding to yourself, you pushed out of bed and marched over to your professor, reaching forward to gently shake his broad shoulder. He grumbled cutely, a furrow appearing in his brow as he tried to turn away from you.

"Professor," you whisper-shouted, shaking him more insistently as you tried not to laugh. To your surprise, his hand snaked to grab your wrist; he pulled, and you toppled on top of him with a surprised squeak. Strong arms wrapped around you and you instinctively melted into his chest, letting his warmth fill your senses.

Then you realized what you were doing, taking advantage of your professor's sleepy state to get what you wanted, and shame flooded you. You pushed against his chest to get up, but his hold only tightened.

"Professor!" you said more loudly, wondering how the hell you were going to explain this. His eyes began to drift open, and when they met yours his lips curved into a drowsy smile. Your heart hammered in your chest at the thought that he was happy to wake up to you.

But then lucidity crept into his gaze, his eyes widened and his arms loosened. Feeling your stomach sink, you scrambled off of him and took several steps backwards, as if that could somehow erase his memory.

"[Y/n]?" he asked, looking confused and still a little sleepy. Your heart plummeted as you wondered if Dr. Kim had thought you were someone else – someone he wanted to wake up to. Of course he probably had someone.

"I'm so sorry!" you stammered, looking at your feet as shame warred with disappointment. "I was trying to wake you up, and you pulled me in your sleep, and I lost my balance, and…"

You realized you were babbling, and shut up as Dr. Kim stared at you with an unreadable expression. Did he believe you? God, he probably thought you were a perv who couldn't keep from throwing herself at him. And after you had promised him not to do anything, too.

"I've been told I get clingy when I sleep," he finally responded with a chuckle, relaxing. Your relief was marred by the bitter taste of jealousy. You envied the lucky person who had that firsthand experience. Then you forced the thought out of your head, knowing it was none of your business, and remembered what you had meant to do in the first place.

"I can't believe you switched us," you complained, crossing your arms and glaring at him as menacingly as you could. His full lips began to twitch into a smirk that made you forget your annoyance, and possibly your name.

"And I can't believe you disobeyed your professor like that," he teased, eyes twinkling as he pushed back his covers and got up. It was a matching set, and it was unbearably cute that your older, beautiful professor was wearing it. The top couple buttons were undone, and you cast about in your head for any reply while you tried not to ogle the toned chest peeking out at you.

"Well at your age you should think more about your back," you shot back before you could stop yourself. His eyebrows shot up at your snark, and he stepped a little closer to you.

"Calling me an old man?" he asked, tone still amused, though something else you couldn't identify gleamed in his eyes. You wanted to step backwards, but something kept you rooted to the spot, as if vines had sprouted up from the ground and locked you into place.

"U-um, I just meant older," you stuttered meekly, your brief flare of defiance fading with each step he took towards you. You stared at your feet as he came closer, until fingers dipped below your chin to tilt your face up to meet his.

"Hmm, so that should mean I know better, shouldn't it?"

Dr. Kim's voice was still husky from sleep, and something in his eyes sent heat rushing through you as you stared at him like a deer in the headlights. The way he said it made you wonder if he was talking about something else, and you gave an involuntary shiver you hoped he didn't notice.

You licked suddenly dry lips as your pulse quickened, but before your mind could get too carried away, he stepped backwards and walked past you to the bathroom.

"I'm going to take a quick shower," he called over his shoulder. "But I shouldn't be long."

You blinked as the door closed behind him, taking the time to let your racing heart settle to a pace akin to normal. Hadn't he just showered last night? He really liked to be clean, apparently.

You tried not to dwell on the fact that he was naked just a few feet away from you, divided by only a wall and a door. It had been hard enough last night, and now you had that dark glint in his eye filling your head, the underlying croon in his voice, and the memory of his arms wrapped around your body.

A part of you knew that he was perhaps a bit touchier than a professor should be. But the idea that your handsome, brilliant, and kind professor paid you special attention made your chest feel warm. Perhaps nothing could ever happen, but you wished you could somehow bottle up the way he made you feel in moments like these. Maybe then you wouldn't so pathetically hope for more.

With a sigh, you went to the closet to pull out the clothes you hung there the night before. You had already decided on what to wear for the three days of the conference. The pathetic, hopeful part of your brain hoped the professional clothing would make you seem more like a woman to Dr. Kim, someone worthy of his attention. You had agonized over what to bring for an embarrassingly long period of time. It was foolish – selfish – of you to want more when that would be nothing but catastrophic for him, when he had already told you it was impossible, but your heart refused to heed your advice.

You doffed your pajamas and pulled on your well-fitting pants, admiring how perky it made your butt look in the mirror. Remembering your underthings were in your suitcase, you hurried over to grab a bra, sliding your arms through the straps and fiddling it as you walked back to the closet. Your fingers fumbled over the hooks as you struggled to clasp them, and then the bathroom door opened and you froze, staring at a wide eyed, shirtless Dr. Kim.

"I-I forgot to bring in my clothes," he stuttered, sounding like something was strangling him. You couldn't stop yourself from ogling at his gloriously toned chest and abs, or the way his towel was slung low around his hips, revealing hip bones that made your mouth water. Was it normal for academics to be so – so fit?

You were so distracted by his naked chest that you didn't notice the way he was similarly captivated. His own eyes roamed the bare skin of your shoulders, your stomach, and the way your bra was hanging teasingly off of your breasts.

Suddenly you came to your senses and whirled around at the same exact time he did.

"Tell me when I can turn around," you heard him say in that same choked tone, and you wondered if he could hear the way your heart was pounding from across the room. Your fingers didn't want to cooperate, but you were finally able to hook your bra and you almost flew into the blouse you had chosen to wear. Despite your clumsiness you were able to button it up relatively quickly, and finally you turned back around, pulse picking back up as you took a moment to appreciate the way Dr. Kim's broad shoulders tapered into a slim waist. Of course his back was also perfect.

"You're good," you said softly, tearing your gaze away to fiddle with the bottom button of your shirt, too embarrassed to look your professor in the eye. You heard him take quick steps toward the closet where his own clothes were hung up and flushed, belatedly wondering if you should have moved out of the way. You shuffled to the side as you felt warmth and the smell of soap wash over you, and his arm brushed your shoulder as he reached to pluck his own clothes off the hanger.

"Sorry about that," he whispered into your ear, his breath hot against your skin. You let out a squeaky noise of response, eyes fixed on your feet as you tried to ignore how close he was standing. Then his body heat vanished and he retreated to the bathroom, door clicking firmly shut behind him.

Feeling lightheaded, you moved to fall face-first onto the bed with a muffled thump. You were not going to survive this conference.

~~~~~

Three days. Seokjin just needed to hold out for three days, and he could go back to sleeping alone without being blessed and cursed by your constant proximity. He took a deep breath before releasing it in a slow exhale as he did his tie in the bathroom mirror, wondering how exactly you would inadvertently tempt him next.

His morning jerk off session had been in vain, and all he could think of was your bare skin and the little noise you had made when he had leaned in close. You had no idea what you were doing to him, a pretty, innocent little lamb walking willingly into his clutches.

It made him want to protect you, cradle you in his arms against anything that might hurt you. It made him want to bend you over the bed and ruin you for anyone who wasn't him.

"I'm ready, Professor," you called as you stepped out of the bathroom, hair and make up done, blouse tucked into your slacks, wearing heels that drew his eyes to the curve of your backside. You still couldn't meet his eyes, which allowed him to drink you in without fear of being caught. Still, this wouldn't do. As endearing as it was, he didn't want you to be embarrassed forever, or for others at the conference to sense something might be amiss.

"[Y/n]."

At his tone, you forced yourself to look up, and he gave you a reassuring smile even as he admired the way your lipstick emphasized the pout of your lips. You looked so lovely, professional and subtly sexy with an outfit that emphasized your figure without announcing it. If it weren't for your doe-eyes and flushed cheeks, you could have passed as one of his colleagues, albeit with a younger face.

"Come here."

Jin sat on the queen sized bed and patted the spot beside him. You obeyed without hesitation despite your apprehension, and he smiled.

"I-I'm really sorry about earlier," you stammered, eyes fixed on your hands, which were in your lap. "I wasn't trying to - I thought you were going to take longer."

"I should have warned you, too," he replied, hesitating just slightly before he gave in and rested his hand on your shoulder. He knew he shouldn't keep doing this, keep entering your personal space or touching you, but he couldn't help himself. You were like a drug he couldn't get enough of. "Let's just pretend nothing happened, and be more careful in the future, okay?"

Your muscles relaxed at his words and you finally turned your head to peek up with him, a tentative smile touching your lips. "Okay," you agreed, looking so sweet he had to restrain himself from doing something that would make his earlier words useless.

"Good girl," he responded, and the way you shivered at his praise made him wonder just what else you liked to be called. He was playing a dangerous game, but you were impossible to resist. "Now let's get some breakfast. I'm starving."

~~~~~

"In short, phyto and zooplankton populations appear to be in a dangerously fast decline in the world's oceans," you explained, flicking your presentation to its final slide. You cast your gaze over the audience to lock eyes with Dr. Kim, who was grinning with undeniable pride on his face. Your chest fluttered, and you continued your presentation with renewed confidence.

"With their position as the basis of the food chain for marine life everywhere, it will likely lead to even more disastrous results than are already being witnessed. Fishing villages have been reporting worse catches year after year, and fishing trawlers are crossing over international lines to reach their quotas, which will have both economic and political ramifications."

Another handsome man was nodding along with your words, cheeks dimpling into an approving smile, and you felt another surge of delight that your work was being so well-received.

"Unless policies are put into place to protect these fragile ecosystems, these shortages will only grow worse. We need to urge stronger guidelines and restrictions on waste disposal and climate change, otherwise the damage we are causing to these ecosystems may be irrevocable."

You clicked your presentation shut, feeling your cheeks heat up at the applause as the lights in the room turned back on.

"Thank you for such an enlightening report," said the mediator, smiling at you and then looking out at the row of seats. "We will now commence the five-minute Q&A, does anyone have any questions?"

A few hands popped into the air, including that of the handsome, dimpled man. Your chest thumped as you nervously prayed that you would be able to answer everything adequately, and you met Dr. Kim's eyes again for reassurance. He made a goofy face as he gave you a thumbs up, and you felt your nerves settle. The mediator gestured towards Dr. Dimples, and he stood as someone passed him a microphone.

"That was a lovely presentation, Miss [L/n]," he began in a pleasant baritone, eyes crinkling into a warm smile. You felt your face flush despite yourself, and distractedly wondered if you had a thing for older men. "The ocean is vast, and often some findings can be exclusive to a specific area. How has this been accounted for in your research?"

"Great question," you began brightly, relaxing as you realized this was something you could answer quite easily. You smiled at the man as you continued. "You are correct, hard numbers did vary amongst different samples, but…"

You were able to answer every other inquiry just as easily, and you felt your confidence build with each response. What you didn't notice was the way Dr. Kim's smile had faded, and the way his jaw clenched every time you smiled at someone who wasn't him.

~~~~~

"Wonderful job, [y/n]," murmured Dr. Kim quietly when you took your seat next to him.

You felt your body heat up at his praise, and you couldn't help but beam at him. Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much, but you couldn't help it, high off adrenaline and triumph and your professor's approval. He gave a quiet chuckle at the way you were practically vibrating next to him, setting a warm hand on your knee to settle you down before the next presentation.

You tried not to read too much into it, especially since his touch vanished as quickly as it arrived, but it was impossible. Instead of paying attention, you spent the entirety of the next talk hyper-aware of his presence beside you, daydreaming about what it might have felt like if he had kept his hand there.

Would it have stayed innocently in place for the entire presentation? Maybe his fingers would have drawn absent-minded patterns against your stockinged skin as he listened to the lecturer, clueless to the effect he was having on you. Or perhaps he would have dragged those digits teasingly up your thigh, to rest just shy of where you wanted him most.

With a start, you realized the lights had flicked back on and everyone around you was applauding. Holy shit, had you just spent an entire twenty minute presentation daydreaming about your professor's hand not even actually touching you? You shifted in your seat uncomfortably to ease the ache between your legs, realizing your underwear had grown uncomfortably damp.

"Are you alright?"

Hearing Dr. Kim's husky voice, breath hot against your ear, was certainly not helping the state of your body. You squirmed again, too embarrassed to meet his eyes, and thus unable to see the way they flashed darker when he saw your thighs clench.

"J-just a little tired," you mumbled, looking anywhere but at your beautiful, concerned professor. You had literally just promised him earlier that you wouldn't be weird, and here you were fantasizing right next to him. You were the worst.

"It does get a little tiring to sit through talk after talk," he whispered conspiratorially, voice laced with humor. "Did you know that once I fell asleep and woke myself up by snoring during a lecture?"

You giggled in spite of yourself, picturing a cute Dr. Kim with his mouth open, a hint of drool at the corner of those plump lips.

"Are you sure you should be telling me that?" you asked with a grin, finally able to look straight at him and immediately regretting it when his smile pierced your heart. "You're a bad influence, professor."

Something in his eyes shifted at your words, and though his smile didn't change you suddenly felt exposed under his gaze as he responded.

"You have no idea."

~~~~~

Objectively, the conference was going incredibly well. You had absolutely killed your presentation, and Seokjin was currently watching from afar with a glass of wine as you mingled with the other conference-goers. While he had been with you initially, introducing you to a few colleagues here and there, he had backed off to let you handle things on your own. It was important for you to network, and having him hovering over you as if you couldn't speak for yourself would do you no favors.

Even if he absolutely hated it.

He took a long sip of the burgundy liquid, letting it slide down his throat as he watched Namjoon fucking Kim, marine biologist and wunderkind, introduce himself. Seokjin tried not to read into the excited way you answered whatever question he had posed, or the way you flushed when the man aimed his deadly dimples in your direction. He had no right to feel this way, no claim to your smiles or laughter or – why the fuck was he touching you?

"Dr. Kim!"

The surprised cry brought him back to reality, and he realized that his hand was wet with a mixture of wine and blood. There was glass stabbing into his palm and yet he could barely feel it over the rage eating at his chest.

"Oops," he said with a forced chuckle as one of the caterers rushed towards him with a cloth napkin. "I guess I don't know my own strength."

His colleague relaxed slightly at his nonchalance, giving an awkward snort as he took a sip of his own glass.

"I swear, you take absent-minded academic to a whole new level," he teased. Anything further was interrupted when you arrived, somehow beating the caterer.

"Professor!" you exclaimed, looking worried and frantic as you grabbed his hand, uncaring of the glass around your feet. Seokjin glanced at where you had come from, and saw Namjoon Kim staring after you looking more than a little disappointed. Another surge of irritation ran through him. Didn't he know you were way too young for him?

"Do you have a first-aid kit?" you asked the employee who had finally arrived, grabbing the napkin from him without asking and holding it gently beneath Jin's bleeding hand. The roaring in his chest faded to a muted buzz at the tender way you were touching him, careful not to dislodge any of the glass piercing his skin.

"Not here," squeaked the employee, staring wide-eyed at the red dripping to the floor and looking a little green around the edges. "Each room has one though."

"Let's go," you ordered, looking Seokjin straight into the eyes with an adorably determined expression. He couldn't help but humor you, and gave a nod to his colleague before letting you tow him out of the conference hall and into an elevator.

"What happened?" you asked softly, still holding his hand face-up, staring wide-eyed at the lacerations on his skin. What had happened? He had just been watching you, when that man had fucking set his hand on your lower back, and –

"Professor!"

He realized that his hand had tried to clench into a fist and he forced himself to relax.

"I'm not sure," he replied, saved from further questioning when the elevator dinged and the doors swished open.

"You should be more careful," you scolded cutely, pulling him down the hall and fumbling with the keycard for your - our, hissed Jin's brain - hotel room. You dragged him into the bathroom, seating him on the covered toilet as you opened drawers until you found what you were looking for. He watched in amused interest as you pulled a first-aid kit from under the sink, utterly endeared by how you were acting like you were in charge.

You frowned when you opened it, ordered him to stay put as you left the bathroom, then returned with some dainty tweezers.

"Are those for your eyebrows?" he asked in amusement, making you scowl at the clearly lacking first-aid kit.

"Yes," you responded primly before kneeling next to him and taking his bleeding hand in a tender grip that made his heart stutter. "Now be quiet and let me concentrate."

Why did you have to be so fucking cute when you tried to be bossy? You began plucking glass from his palm, attention completely absorbed by your task, and he took the opportunity to drink you in without interruption.

You really were too beautiful for your own good, Jin mused with a mixture of admiration and despair. His eyes trailed over the scrunch of your brow, the slopes of your cheeks, and your pursed lips in a soft caress his hands itched to make a reality. He was only torn away from his silent worship when you clucked your teeth and tugged him to the sink to rinse his hand.

"I think I got everything," you said in a fretful voice that made him want to kiss the worry off your face. "How does it feel?"

"Fine," Jin assured you. He felt better than fine, honestly. The pain in his hand was nothing compared to the euphoria of your skin on his own, or the way your attention was on him and him alone.

"Okay, good," you murmured with a smile, smearing his hand with something that made him hiss. Your expression dropped in an instant, though you wasted no time grabbing a roll of bandages. You wrapped the white cloth around his palm in gentle, almost reverent hands, and peeked up at his face when you were done.

"All set," you said quietly, looking at him tentatively, your hands still holding his in a soft, warm grip. Jin swallowed as he gazed back, completely captivated. You were perfect, a lovely blossom just waiting to be plucked by some uncaring hand. But he couldn't.

Shouldn't.

Then you smiled, and he decided that hell was worth it if it meant that look was reserved for him and him alone, if he could keep you from those who wouldn't treasure you the way you deserved. Especially undeserving predators like Namjoon Kim.

"Not quite," he heard himself say, almost as if he were underwater. You cocked your head at him, confused, and he grinned as the dark vines inside of him cut through the final strands of his self-control. "I hear kisses help speed up the healing process."

~~~~~

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Tags: @moonleeai @random-and-out-of-context @amenjiminsan @innebulae @seoqity @lilacdreams-00 @chowb @shescharlie @mazmaz30 @definetlythinkimanalien @seokjins-luigi @lucci-girl @xicanacorpse @bighitbabie @8loominghell @jung-nika-hoseok @staradorned @zealouslightcookiebasketball @kissme-ornot @dyhrbls @nabiolive

#bts imagines #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts jin #bts x reader #bts x you #kim seokjin x reader #bts x y/n #bts smut #kim seokjin smut #jin x reader #bts yandere #yandere seokjin #seokjin x reader #yandere kim seokjin

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jawritter · 1 year

Text

My Brother’s Keeper

Chapter 2

Summary: Y/N, Sam’s roommate, so far have a pretty good thing going. Both work and function around one another well. What happens when his big brother comes down for the holidays with his mysterious past, mixed with Sam’s own mysterious previous life? Can Y/N and the grumpy older brother find a way to get along? Or will it be a not so happy holidays at the Winchester house?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Sized!Reader x Sam

Word Count: 2682

Prompt: Reunion

Written for: @spnchristmasbingo

Rating: Mature (because of future chapters, this story is 18 + only, and not fit for minor consumption.)

Warnings: Angst, self-hating reader. Brief mentions of past bullying.

A/N: This is the first Christmas fic I have written in a long time! You guys will get this one real time, and I hope to finish it before New Years! Fingers crossed! Anyways, This fic is unbeta’d, so all mistakes are my won! Feedback is golden! My work is 18+ only! No minors! Thanks so much for reading!

Main Masterlist

Y/N leaned heavily against the entryway that separated the mostly open floor plan of the kitchen and dining room with a heavy sigh. Off somewhere in the background, the TV played in the corner now instead of Pandora, having received an update on her phone about a possible upcoming snow storm she thought it best to see what the actual news might have to say. With their house guest with them, they might need some extra supplies to see them through the holidays, especially if Dean ends up having to stay longer because of the weather. Still, she wasn’t even really paying attention to it right now. All she could think about was the metal note that she made to herself to assign, Sam as well as herself, daily chores so that it didn’t get that bad again.

She was exhausted, but she did have to admit that she felt accomplished. If a stranger looked around at this place, they might think that Sam and Y/N might actually have their life together, instead of the custerfuck of work and barely meeting at the dinner table most days. Which, she guessed, was the point of spending the whole day cleaning for some guy that all she could do was pray that he wouldn’t be a giant dick bag and was at least as descent of a guy as Sam had portrayed him to be. From the one picture she’d seen of him, he looked like every big bag of dicks that she went to high school with that did nothing but gain gratification of some sort by making her life a living hell.

Shaking herself, she pushed herself off of the wall, and made her way over to the TV to turn it off, her anxiety was really too high to deal with any sound, and besides, Dean would probably be there any moment. It was too late to go and fix herself up, so she settled on making her way into the kitchen to go and fix herself, and Dean some coffee if he wanted it. It was fucking cold out, and honestly, if he didn’t drink Coffee for some reason, she had no problem finishing the pot for herself.

She was trying her best to trust Sam, and not judge Dean before the man even pulled up in the driveway, because as Sam’s friend, she felt that she at least owed Dean the benefit of the doubt. If Dean had practically raised Sam, and Sam had turned out to be as nice of a guy as he was, that surely had to count for something, and besides, never judge a book by its cover. At least, that’s what she kept retorting to herself as she bustled around the kitchen making coffee.

She hated this side of herself. This anxious, self-conscious, insecure mess that she was. It wasn’t as if it were bad enough, she didn’t really have all that much going for her in the looks department, but years of bullying through high school and collage had left their mark into adulthood, and even though she was damn near 32 years old now, and all those guys that harassed her shouldn’t have held any importance to her life now she still carried the baggage. It had affected her so much that she’d only had one real boyfriend, and it turned out that he was just using her to get a position at the company she’d been a secretary for at the time. She had thought at the time, he was the one, so needless to say, she hadn’t exactly had all that great of a track record with men… well ever.

She had just pressed brew on the coffee machine, when a loud knock sounded at the front door, jolting her back from her traumatic past to an equally unsettling reality. Dean was here.

“You’re an adult for fucks sakes Y/N get it together, he’s not here to spend time with you, he doesn’t care that you’re here, he’s just here to see Sam, that’s all,” she whispered to herself as she forced her sock clad feet to shuffle along the freshly mopped hardwood floor towards the front door, and the impressive shadow of the man that stood through the window.

This must have been what Scrooge felt like every time it was time for a new ghost to come calling.

Another loud knock sounded at the door, and she took a deep breath before reaching out and opening it to reveal the greenest eyes she’d ever seen, sat in a stern, but somehow boyishly freckle dusted face and military cut. He was even more handsome than she’d seen in the pictures, with the years of lines around his eyes that barely peeked back at her, but she assumed if he were to smile, or even laugh, it would make them even more defined, and himself somehow even more beautiful.

Sam didn't mention the fact that his brother was some walking version of a Greek God!

“Hey, uhm… I don’t know if I have the right house,” Dean said, clearing his throat and fuck if his deep voice didn’t make fucking chill bumps rise up on her arms that she quickly crossed. “I’m Dean Winchester, I’m looking for my brother Sam Winchester’s house?”

She didn't miss the way his eyes traveled over her body as he spoke, and she automatically took a self-conscious step back.

"You, uhm, you got the right house," Y/N stuttered. "I'm Y/N, Sam's roommate, he told me you were coming."

She took a step back so that Dean could come inside, but he froze at the door with an old, green duffle bag over his shoulder, and a somewhat cautious look on his face.

"Listen, I hope it's okay, but I brought my dog with me. I don't like leaving him behind when I travel," Dean confessed before looking over his shoulder to whistled for a medium sized, shaggily adorable dog to come trotting dutifully to his incredibly attractive owner's side.

"Oh," Y/N blinked in surprise. "I'm sure Sam doesn't mind. Come on in, it's freezing out there."

This time, Dean stepped inside, sidestepping Y/N in the threshold of the door with a glance as he looked cautiously around the freshly cleaned house, while Y/N closed the door tightly behind him.

"So, uhm… Do I just take the couch or…?" Dean questioned as Y/N turned around to face her, his four-legged friend already trotting off in the kitchen to lay under the kitchen table.

"No," Y/N quickly corrected. "Sam has the guest room just down the hallway there across from my room all set up for you," she blurted out quickly, then regretted the overshare immediately. Like Dean really gave two fucks that the guest room was across from her room.

"Uhh, cool," he said, giving another clear of his throat. She wondered if she was irritating him, and that's why he kept doing that. God he was so hard to read!

"Miracle, come on boy," he called over his shoulder with a whistle and a quick pat of his leg.

His companion wasted no time in scurrying to his feet and following his owner to the guest room Y/N had indicated, but Y/N really saw none of that, because she was too stuck on the broadness of the man. He was tall, admittedly not as tall as Sam, maybe he would be had he not been adorably bow legged, but honestly, it was the shoulder to waist ratio that had her dumb founded on the spot as they disappeared, and the guest room door closed behind him, shaking her from the drooling mess that this man suddenly made her become.

“Fuck Y/N! Get it together!” Y/N angrily whispered to herself. Her own behavior towards this man made her cheeks flush red with embarrassment. She honestly never acted this way towards any man in her life! The behavior was completely out of character for her. It wasn’t something she did, ogle after attractive men. Honestly, she usually hid from them, not wanting to fall victim to what would surely be hateful remarks, and disgusted stares.

“But in all fairness, you’ve never encountered Adonis walking in the flesh before either have you?” The not so subtle little voice whispered inside her head where her continuous once was, and honestly, she made a reminder to mentally kick herself later as the aroma of warm coffee filtered into the living room where she was still standing, making her feet travel towards the inviting odor, which she guessed was better than standing in the middle of the floor like an idiot.

She couldn’t help the inescapable feeling that this Christmas for her might be the worst one yet.

She was so steeped in her own self-loathing, that she did not hear her abnormally attractive house guest wonder into the kitchen where she was as she made her cup of coffee, until the deep clearing of his voice made her jump as she turned around to be astounded once more as if it were the first time by the same astonishing green eyes.

“Do you mind if I—” he stated unsure, gesturing at the coffee maker behind her right shoulder, and Y/N quickly scurried out of his way.

“Oh, sure, of course, make yourself at home,” she blubbered out maybe a little too quickly, but he was nice enough to not call her out on her awkwardness, and she appreciated the effort. It’s not like he had to be nice to her. She was just the roommate after all.

She moved herself over to the small kitchen table that they had in the corner of the old kitchen setting, and settled herself down with her cup of coffee, because to be honest, he made her feel a little weak in the knees, and that scared the hell out of her.

Dean made quick work of pouring himself a large, black cup of coffee, and came to sit down across from her at the table, which nearly made her fall out of her seat at the sheer shock that he was sitting anywhere near her at all.

“So,” he stated as he took a long swig of the hot liquid from his glass as if they had been old buddies for years that needed to catch up, and not complete strangers that they were. “How did you meet Sammy, he’s pretty tight lipped when it comes to shit. He doesn’t tell me anything anymore. I didn’t even know you existed until a week ago.”

Y/N blushed deeply, forcing herself to look away from Dean, even though she really didn’t want to. Honestly, she could stare for hours at the man and never get bored.

“We uhm… We met through work actually. I was a secretary at the firm he’d just started to work at a few years back,” she admitted, and she felt the air in the room shift dramatically, making her eyes drift back up to Dean’s stare, which had suddenly turned hard. Cold even.

“You mean the two of you have been together for years, and he hadn’t even bothered to mention anything at all about it to me,” he questioned, and the thick rumble of his voice made her shrink down a little in her chair, but the surprise that he thought that that Sam and herself where ‘together’, was something she hadn’t expected, nor did she understand.

“What? No, We’re not, ya know, ‘together’ like that,” she corrected quickly. “We’re just friends. Sam did know a lot of people when he moved down here, and we worked a lot together while he was at the firm I was working at. I didn’t move in here until Covid layoff took a toll on the office I was still at about six months ago, and Sam let me move in here when I lost my apartment, other than that, we’re just friends.”

Dean slouched a little in his seat, almost like a kicked dog or someone that had overstepped and was regretting it.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment. “I assumed you were— Look, Sam and I have had our share of communication troubles in the past, and when he called me to see if I wanted to come down for Christmas this year, I assumed he’d at least be here, and I thought this was his coward ass way of trying to tell me he had a girlfriend or something, because when Sam gets a girlfriend, well, let’s just say I don’t hear from him after that.”

She made a mental note to kick Sam’s ass when he got home. She knew that Dean was telling the truth, and honestly, she’d experienced Sam’s lack of communication herself, as well as lived through a few girlfriends, she knew what it felt like to be ignored, but never on the level Dean seemed to have experienced.

“Wait,” she said after a moment’s thought, “I thought that he said YOU were the one that wanted to come down and see him because of your roommate and a girl or something like that?” she questioned, and Dean snorted in disgust as took a drink from his mug in front of him.

“That what he told you?” he questioned, shaking his head. “Well sweetheart, I don’t have a roommate, and he is the one who called me and apparently couldn’t even have the decency to take time off work to be here when I got here.”

“I’m sorry, I told him the same thing, you know, that you are coming to see him, not sit here with me,” she stood a little too harshly maybe, and but she was irritated, not with Dean, but Sam.

“I’m sorry,” Dean apologized again, and she hated that she made him feel that he had to keep apologizing to her. None of this was his fault, it was Sam’s. “I shouldn’t have dumped all that on you. My issues with my little brother shouldn’t be something you’ve been dragged into. Besides, I don’t mind spending time with you, honestly, I would have just been alone for Christmas anyway, besides Miracle that is.”

Three things stung her in that sentence. First, she was better than being alone with a dog, noted. Second, Sam is gonna have some serious ass kissing to do, because she had a feeling that this man that had put so much of his life into raising him had spent way too much time alone. Third, the look on his handsome face didn’t belong there. It just didn’t. He was too handsome to look that alone, that down, she knew that feeling well. But people like him, they were never alone. Pretty people always had people around them. Didn’t they?

Miracle trotted into the kitchen to sit dutifully by his master’s side, and she smiled as she looked down at the light sandy colored, adorable creature.

“Is he a service dog?” she questioned, attempting to lighten the mood. Dean smiled down at his friend, reaching to scratch him behind his floppy ear.

“No, but I honestly never thought about it. He’d make a good one.”

Just then, the front door opened and closed loudly, announcing the younger Winchester’s return.

“Well sweetheart, are you ready for the Winchester’s happy family Christmas reunion?” Dean announced sarcastically.

Y/N snorted into her cup. Honestly, she was liking Dean a little too much for her liking, and she was pretty mad at Sam, so whatever he said to Sam, she was probably gonna side with him. Roommate be damned.

“It’s feeling like a warm family sitcom already,” she jests, and Dean tossed his head back to laugh a full body laugh that she so desperately wanted to see more of. God he was gorgeous when he laughed.

“Some twisted version of Christmas with the Fockers maybe,” he agreed, as he stood to go face his baby brother for the first time in what was probably years…

Chapter 3 HERE!!!

Forever:

@demongirl1996

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Jensen and Dean’s Babes

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#my brother's keeper #spnchristmasbingo #spnchristmasbingo2022 #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester series #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x plus sized reader #dean winchester x pluse sized you #dean x reader #dean x you #x reader inserts #jawritter #jensen ackles #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn series

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veinsandknuckles · 2 years

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Reflect what you are, pt 2

Abed Nadir/Autistic f!Reader. In love and at a loss, Abed turns to self professed woman-expert Jeff Winger for advice with mixed results. Part 1 Rated: pg Warnings: casual ableism, casual sexism, autistic stereotypes, reference to the The Big Bang Theory. If I’ve missed anything, let me know. This fic hasn’t been BETA’d. As a disclaimer, I’ll say upfront that the reader insert’s experiences with and outward signs of autism are based on my own. It’s always impossible to write a reader insert neutrally enough to be projected onto by everyone and I think that’s especially true when portraying a disability that is at once so specific and so varied. ——–

“...I think I’m in love.”

“Really.” Jeff didn’t look up from his phone.

Abed wasn’t sure why he’d picked Jeff as the right person to talk to. Perhaps it was just because Jeff had lingered in the study room after their last session, leaving them alone in the room, and if Abed didn’t tell someone, anyone, he might literally explode. “Yes. Definitely. I show all the classic signs.”

Jeff didn’t respond. Had his sarcastic, disinterested tone been more pointed than usual? It was hard to tell.

“Did you already know I’m in love?”

“With what’s-her-name, your new study buddy?” Jeff gave Abed a look. “Uh, yeah. I’m pretty sure everyone knows.”

“Oh.” Abed tapped his pen against the table and thought this over. “Do I talk about her a lot?”

“Not really, but we know you. It’s pretty suspicious if you take an interest in anyone who isn’t a fictional character.” Jeff put his phone down and leaned his elbows on the table. “Does this mean you’ve finally come to me for dating advice? It’s about time.”

“Normally, I wouldn’t need advice...”

Jeff’s eyes narrowed. “Because women throw themselves at you, for some reason.” He sounded resentful. “Yeah, I remember.”

“And usually I don’t really care either way.” Perhaps this wasn’t the best approach if he wanted Jeff’s help, but it was the truth. “I mean, the attention is nice, but it’s not important.”

“Well, if you’re ‘in love’” (here, Jeff made so many air quotes he threatened to sprain a finger) “that’s a whole different story.”

“Yeah. I’d be pretty upset if she didn’t like me back.”

“I’m sure. So what have you tried so far?”

“Hm.” What had he tried? Shockingly little, now that he came to think about it. “I’ve talked to her a little. We’re working on a project together for class. Oh, and yesterday I threatened to beat a guy up for disrespecting her.”

There was a long pause. “See, this is why you should come to me for inspiration instead of turning to the movies.”

“Yeah, but it was warranted. He’s a bully.”

“Yeah, but still. I never figured you’d go for the caveman approach.”

Abed shrugged. “I don’t really have an approach.”

“Yeah, we established that. So what’s this girl like?”

“I think she’s autistic.”

Jeff’s eyes widened and his mouth seemed to twitch. He didn’t make a face, but it seemed to take him some effort not to make a face. What was he trying to hide? Surprise? A lack of surprise? Amusement? Ridicule? Probably not envy, but what did Jeff know?

“Abed, that’s not a very nice way to sum up a person. We taught you better than that.”

Abed had it on pretty good authority that Jeff had pointed him out to strangers as ‘the robot’ and ‘just don’t call him Sheldon’ several times just this month, but for some reason, people tended to get uncomfortable if the spade joined in and also started calling itself a spade.

“Okay, this is clearly a sensitive issue for you. If I tell you she’s also beautiful and funny and attentive and kind and clever and beautiful, does that make you feel better?”

“That’s a pretty long list.” Jeff smiled. “Beautiful made it in twice, huh?”

It was a fair summary as far as Abed was concerned, repetition included, but Jeff needed to be brought down a peg or two.“I thought that would reassure you.”

Jeff stopped smiling. “Whatever. So if you care so much about her supposed personality, what do you guys actually have in common? Apart from, you know. The A word.”

“I’m not sure. We both pay attention in class, so we already have some similar interests.”

“Okay, so get her talking about those. Women love it when you pretend to care about their dumb opinions.”

Abed was very much convinced that this was not an uniquely female trait and he knew that if he chose to make a rebuttal, Jeff himself would make for an excellent exhibit A. But Jeff depended on his 90’s stand up comedian understanding of gender roles and it would be unfair to take that comfort away from him. Instead, he chose diplomacy. “If she has dumb opinions, I’ll lose interest. Even if she’s beautiful twice.”

“Yeah, you’re weird like that.”

“But I get shy around her, and I’m not used to being shy. I try to plan our conversations in advance, but then when I talk to her I forget everything I was going to say... And I don’t want to pretend to be someone else.”

“You’re overthinking this. Just go up to her and talk, ask more questions than you give answers and if she smiles and laughs at your jokes...” Jeff thought about it, then shook his head. “Huh. Yeah, I see the problem. You still can’t really read anyone. Even I can’t read you and I’m a master manipulator who’s known you for years. If she’s like you...” He seemed at a loss for words. “Don’t you have, like, a secret language or something? Bleep, bloop, Star Trek good?”

How should Abed know? It wasn’t like he’d been ushered into a secret society or subscribed to the local autism mailing list. Maybe there actually was a club and he just hadn’t been invited - that would be a fun, ironic twist. “Not one I know of.” The trekkie accusation he filed away for a later argument.

“Alright. So, when she’s happy or annoyed or on the rag, can you even tell?”

“I think so.”

Abed worried that Jeff misinterpreted the reason for his interest. He couldn’t tell if Jeff wanted to over or under emphasise the autism part, but he could tell Jeff didn’t get it. Sure, it was exciting to meet someone who functioned the way he did, but not because he expected or even wanted you to be a copy of himself. He wasn’t looking for the comedy staple where the weirdo, slash robot, slash dog’s love interest was played by the same actor, slash costume, slash dog in a wig or a pink bow. He was just as desperate to explore all your differences as your possible similarities, and the disability thing was just a small part of that. And he’d underplayed the “beautiful” part, but your mind really was not the only thing he wanted to explore. After all, you’d already turned his head months before he’d realised what you shared.

It dawned on Abed that he really would be just as excited to talk to you if the topics you chose made no sense to him - whatever you said would interest him, simply because you were the one talking. And if he ever accidentally tuned you out, he’d be happy just to watch your lips move.

How could he even begin to explain all of this? Or any of it? If Jeff had ever felt the same way, he would never admit to it.

“She emotes a lot.” By Abed’s standards, anyway. “I don’t think most people can really tell she’s autistic.”

“Why are you so fixated on this?”

“Well, in this case, I mean I think she’s more of a people person than I am. She blends in better than I do and that would take a lot of practice.” He paused. “I never really made friends before I got to Greendale, but...”

“You’re worried you might have some competition?”

Abed shook his head. If anything, competition would be reassuring. But why? “I don’t want her to like me because she has no other option. I want her to choose me.” If that was true, why did admitting it make his stomach feel so cold? Abed swallowed and voiced a fear he hadn’t even been conscious of before. “I’m worried I might be too weird for her.”

Now Jeff made a face even Abed could recognise, if only because he’d seen it so often over the years. It was a face of pained, awkward pity.

Abed was seriously starting to regret being so honest, especially with someone who clearly still expected him to be more ashamed of himself than he really was.

But Jeff surprised him and his expression changed gradually into a less familiar smile. “Yeah... I think we all feel like that sometimes. I mean, not me, obviously.” Abed nodded and Jeff continued. “I hate to be a cliché, but if you absolutely have to be in love, I really think you should just try to be yourself. If she doesn’t like you, it’s better you rip the band-aid off quickly.” He reached out as if to give Abed a pat on the shoulder but seemed to think better of it and let his hand fall. “Who knows, she might like you better for being a bit weird - I know I get sick of hanging out with normal people all the time. Whatever that means.”

Abed nodded. Especially the band-aid argument appealed to him. Right now he felt that if he didn’t either get to touch you or let go of this obsession within the week, he’d just wither up and die. Wow. He might actually have to resort to a weekend of 80’s rom coms, either to look for inspiration for some big dramatic gesture of his own, or to do what most people probably did when they watched rom coms - daydream about his own crush and imagine you and him up there on the screen instead, kissing and holding on to each other for dear life while the music swelled and the rain pored. This was so much worse than he’d thought.

#abed nadir #abed nadir x reader #abed nadir imagines #abed nadir imagine #community #community fanfiction #my fics #abed nadir fanfic #still can't promise I'll finish or even continue this fic because I'm usually swamped these days #but since this part was practically finished I figured I'd dust it off and post it

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medusapelagia · 6 months

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M - Mixtape

M is for Mads (@the-redcrate) that helped me brainstorming and find the right take on my Exchange fic!💜

I hope you will enjoy your present 🎁!

Rating: Teen and Up Relationship: Steve /Eddie (mention of Chrissy /Robin) WT: no one Words: 790

There are different kinds of mixtapes.

The mixtapes with all the songs that have been recorded from the radio, which are a mix between advertisements, songs without their beginning and songs without their end, there are the copies from another cassette, and Eddie has dozens of those, and then there are THE mixtapes: the ones with the perfect songs in the perfect order, put together to convey a message.

Eddie is the best at choosing the right songs, that is why he has started an entire business where he creates the perfect mixtape for each person and the weeks before prom are his personal high season.

Tens of jocks and shy girls knock on his trailer door to ask him for a mixtape.

Pricing is different and mostly depends on the person who is asking for a mixtape: if the person was a dick to him during the year, that immediately translates into fifty percent more on his usual rate, if he was nice to him he can do a ten percent discount, but they flatter him, well then he will let the other person rob him blind. Especially if the person in question is Chrissy Cunnigham, Queen of Hawkins High.

“So who is the receiver of your mixtape, my queen? Jason Carver?”

She shakes her blond curls “No. We have broken up.”

Oh. That’s new “I didn’t know. Are you ok?”

“Yeah. I mean, it hurt a bit, but it’s for the best, right?” she asks with a hopeful smile and all that Eddie can do is smile back.

“So, who are we trying to conquer?”

“Oh, no, it’s for a friend. She… she is going through a hard period and I thought that one of your mixtapes could cheer her up.”

“So no love songs, am I right?”

She blushes “No, not for the moment at least.”

“Fine. Tell me the name and I’ll get to work.”

“Robin.”

Eddie turns toward Chrissy “Robin? From band?”

She nods.

“And you say she is going through a tough period…”

“Yeah. I mean, she is always with Steve but it’s obvious that he doesn’t care about her like he cares about Nancy, and she always looks so sad at the cafeteria, and I thought that, now that I’m single we could go to prom together, like two besties!”

Eddie raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment.

“I’ll make the perfect mixtape for you. There is something you would like to tell her?”

She hides her hands in her jacket “Well, I’d like to tell her that she is fun, and caring and that she makes me laugh even on my hardest day.”

Eddie takes notes of everything she says, and then she looks at her “Three days from now your mixtape will be done.”

She hugs him and when she leaves with her blond ponytail Eddie stares at the notes that he took, it looks like maybe a love song or two is actually needed.

What Eddie is not expecting is seeing Steve the Hair Harrington asking for a mixtape.

“Still trying to get back your lady?”

“Nancy? Nah. We are done.”

“So who is the tape for?”

“Me?”

“You?”

Steve nods “Dustin insists that I have horrible taste in music and that I need to broaden my horizon.” He makes a nice imitation of the kid, then turns toward Eddie “So I thought that you could help me. He is always saying how cool you are, and how cool is everything you do, so...”

Eddie smirks “I thought that my music ‘Wasn’t music’.”

“Come on, you were playing some screaming guy at full volume in front of my house!”

That’s true, maybe Eddie did it to piss Steve off just a little.

“So a mixtape for you? Ok. I’ll do it.”

Steve tries to get his wallet “For the boy who drives the shrimps I’ll work for free. Are you on babysitting duty for prom?”

“Yeah…” he answers bored.

“Cool. I’ll see you there and we will listen to some good music.”

Steve stares at him for a long moment, then he nods and gets back to his car.

In the next few days, Eddie works on twenty different tapes and even catches a couple or two listening to his mixtapes, sharing the headphones, but the one he worked harder on is burning in the pocket of his jacket. He has an entire plan figured out: he will wait for Steve to drop the kids and then he will propose to go smoking at the quarry, listening to some good music, and who knows, maybe Steve will get the message he tried to convey with his mixtape and they will share more than a couple of joints and some good music.

#ficlet #stranger things fanfic #Christmas presents 2023 #steve x eddie #steddie #medusapelagia

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ayaitch · 27 days

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Fic authors self rec!

When you get this, share your favorite five fics that you've written, then tag at least five other writers. spread the self-love ❤

I wasn't tagged, but saw this around other Horizon fans, and wanted to try to do it as well. I typically struggle to think kindly toward my writing, but I do have a few that are definitely better than others. Enjoy! :D

A Light in the Dark - Star Wars Rebels, Kallus/Zeb, T - My first Kalluzeb fic. I actually think this one turned out quite nice. I feel that I did a pretty good job with the set up, execution, and tone of the story. Though it's technically pre-relationship, I tried to cram in as much subtle fluster and blossoming sexual tension as I could.

To Lives of Peace - Horizon, Ikkotah/Chekkatah, G - A canon-compliant fic for my favorite Horizon pairing. They're canon too, though we never get to see them together in-universe. I liked how this one turned out too. Short and soft (in my opinion), with a bittersweet ending, because we all know what happens.

The Unconquered Sun - Horizon, Fashav/Kotallo, M - I rate this as M because it's not happy or fluffy, but pretty tough. I've gotten mixed reviews for this story. Some have claimed it very good, others that it's depressing. The reason it's on my list is because it proved to myself that I can actually write a long fic. I'm not doomed to write only >10k word one shots. It's not my best work; it could really use an editor's touch to carve it down to under 100k words and tighten up the story, but I was so proud of myself for getting it all written and it turned out basically how I'd envisioned it. And I wrote it all under the cover of darkness so my now ex-partner didn't know about it.

Tenakth Territory, Not Carja - Horizon, Ikkotah/Chekkatah, T - This one was just really fun for me to write, and it turned out pretty OK, in my opinion. I love the idea that Fashav was a big ol' flirt with Ikkotah and Chekkatah boils over with jealousy. It's a dynamic that amuses me to no end. I should post the follow-up scene that I left in the comments section...

A Tender Touch - Star Wars Rebels, Kallus/Zeb, T - Self-indulgent pre-relationship fluff. I wanted Kallus to give Zeb a foot rub and they both feel bashful about how much they both liked it.

#self-rec post #fanfiction #ikkotah/chekkatah #kalluzeb #fashav/kotallo

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liaromancewriter · 11 months

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Singled Out

Premise: Max and Sienna are in a predicament when their son is excluded from a birthday party.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Sienna Trinh x Max Valentine (M!OC); feat. Noah Valentine (OC) Rating/Category: Teen. Angsty Fluff Words: 1,575 TW: Bullying, use of an ethnic slur

A/N: This fic was requested by @jerzwriter. Submission for @choicesjunechallenge prompt "children"

Noah Valentine was excited to start first grade and wear the navy blazer that was part of his uniform. It was like the ones his father wore to work, and it made Noah feel like a big boy. It was just too bad he didn’t have to wear a tie. Then he would really be like his dad.

On his first day at Briarwood Academy, he waved a hurried goodbye to his parents. He rushed into the classroom, sure that it would be the best day of his life. It was, and it wasn’t.

He supposed the teacher was nice but not as friendly as the ones in his Kindergarten with the colorful walls and ice cream on Fridays. He liked the kids in his class and was happy no one had stolen his crayons.

Aunt Cassie had warned him to be on the lookout for crayon thieves. His dad just rolled his eyes and told her to let it go already.

But there was one boy, Samuel, who kept staring at him. He was bigger than the rest, and the mean look in his beady eyes made Noah feel funny in his tummy.

When the bell rang, the teacher, Miss Penny, led them outside and told them it was time to play. Noah waited in line to go on the slide when Samuel pushed past, shoving him to the ground.

“Excuse me?” Noah said, expecting an apology the way his parents had taught him to do if he bumped into someone.

Samuel didn’t even look at him, just muttered something Noah didn’t understand. He puzzled over what ‘half-and-half’ meant but forgot all about it later when his parents asked him about his first day at school.

But from that day on, Samuel made it a point to pick on him, and Noah tried to ignore the bully. School tried his patience, he thought, remembering the word his mom often used after a long day at work.

A few weeks later, all the kids were bubbling in excitement as Samuel handed out invitations to his birthday party during the break. When Noah stepped up to receive his, the other boy stared at him with a nasty look.

“You aren’t invited to my party,” he sneered. “My parents say mixed blood is worse than being a Chink.”

Noah didn’t know what the words meant, but it sounded bad. He walked away, holding back tears until he was out of sight.

As soon as the school bell rang, he quickly left the classroom, ignoring Miss Penny’s voice behind him, telling everyone to have a good weekend. Tears slowly rolled down his cheeks, but he didn’t care who saw.

Mrs. Banks was waiting outside, chatting with their driver, Danny. She glanced over when he ran out the doors and down the steps, her face falling as it had when he’d skinned his knee in the park during summer break.

“Noah!” she exclaimed in shock and rushed toward him. “What’s wrong, honey?”

Noah threw himself into her arms, big, heaving sobs escaping. He shook his head when she questioned him again, and he heard her sigh. He felt Danny pick him up and carry him to the car while Mrs. B patted his back.

As they drove away, Noah decided then he was never going back to school.

Later that day, Sienna anxiously paced the floor before the elevator waiting for Max. He’d texted to say he was leaving the office. Sienna calculated the drive time, factored in traffic at this time of day and figured he should be arriving any minute now.

When the doors slid open, she breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t stopped along the way.

“Hey, you.” He flashed her a smile as he stepped off the elevator. “I wasn’t expecting a welcome party, but I’ll take it.”

Max leaned down to kiss her lips but stopped halfway, concern furrowing his brows. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Noah,” she replied.

Needing comfort, Sienna slid her arms around his waist, rested her head on his chest and proceeded to tell him everything she’d managed to extract from their son.

Noah had been inconsolable since coming home from school. Worried he’d been hurt physically or worse, Sienna held him in her arms, gently coaxing him until the full tale of Samuel’s bullying and the birthday party snub had come tumbling out.

The latter didn’t bother her as much as the unkind words. She had hoped the world would’ve changed since she’d faced her share of name-calling, casually racist comments and discrimination. Perhaps she’d been naïve in thinking her children would be spared.

“…this has been going on for weeks. He didn’t say anything to me or Mrs. Banks,” she said, and her expression became crestfallen. “You had Man Day last week. Did Noah—”

“I would’ve told you, Sienna,” Max said, tilting her face up so she could see he was deadly serious. “He was quieter than usual but in good spirits.”

Sienna sighed, tears pooling in her eyes. “I knew our children would be biracial, but I really thought society had evolved enough for it to not matter anymore. What kind of parents tell their child it’s okay to say such horrible things?”

“I can’t pretend to understand what it’s like for you,” Max said, brushing his thumbs along her cheeks. “But our kids will always be part of two worlds, and we’ll have to teach them to navigate both.”

She burrowed into his embrace, seeking his strength, her voice muffled against the fabric of his jacket. “I’m a bad mom. I’ve been so busy with work lately that I didn’t notice our son was being bullied.”

“You don’t get to take this on yourself,” Max snapped, letting frustration leak before he controlled himself.

“Sorry. I’m just…” He inhaled and exhaled deeply. “Let’s go inside. We need to talk to Noah together and figure out the next steps. Informing the school and his teacher is step one, and then….”

Sienna leaned back in his arms, her eyes narrowing at the shrewd expression on his face.

“Why do I think you’re already planning retribution?” she said warily.

“The kid is six, Sienna,” Max said, rolling his eyes, amused. “His parents, however, are another matter.”

He unlocked the front door, and they walked inside. “It’s never a good idea to piss off a shark.”

That night Max tucked Noah into bed, handing him the stuffed dolphin plushie—a gift from Cassie—he refused to sleep without and switched on the night light.

“Hey, Dad,” Noah called out just as he started to close the bedroom door. “Were you ever bullied?”

Max turned back and sat down on the side of the bed. He reflected on the difficult conversation he and Sienna had with Noah earlier and thought being a parent was harder than anything else he’d done in his life.

“Yes,” he said. “Remember how Aunt Cassie and I lived in different places growing up?”

Noah nodded. “When you were little like me.”

“Yes. We were often the new kids in class, and sometimes that meant other kids would pick on us,” he said, keeping his tone deliberately neutral. “I remember there was this one kid who said we were lying about being twins because twins are always identical, and we were not.”

“Did you beat him up?” Noah asked with a frown.

Max grinned. “No. My dad taught me there’s only one way to handle people like that.”

“Grandfather Robbie?” he said in awe, eyes widening. His grandfather was one of his favorite people in the world.

At that moment, he looked and sounded so much like Sienna that Max felt his heart lighten. They had agreed before not to overwhelm Noah, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt for him to learn how to deal with bullies now.

“Do you want to know what your grandfather told me?” he said, smiling inwardly at Noah’s vigorous nod.

“Well, bullies like to see you react. It makes them feel powerful,” Max explained. “So, you ignore them. Turn your back and walk away, pretend you can’t hear them. They'll lose interest in you when they see their words can’t hurt you.”

Noah seemed to be thinking over the advice but didn’t say anything. Max lovingly stroked the side of his son’s face, adjusted the bedcovers and started to stand.

“I don’t want to go to Samuel’s birthday party because he’s mean,” Noah said, yawning loudly. “But all my friends at school are going, and I feel left out.”

“I know, and I’m sorry about that, Noah,” Max said gently. “Maybe we can do something special that weekend. You can invite your other friends, your cousins. Have your own party. Or we can go somewhere, maybe a weekend on the beach at St. T?”

“Can we go to St. T and Disneyworld?” Noah said excitedly. “It’s on the way, wouldn’t take long.”

“Both in one weekend? You’ve definitely inherited the Valentine overachiever gene, not to mention our art of negotiation,” Max chuckled. “But let’s pick one thing, buddy. Save the rest for another time.”

“Okay…” Noah yawned again and closed his eyes. “I’d rather have a party. And it’ll be even bigger and better than Samuel’s.”

Max coughed, swallowing back laughter at the stubborn determination in his son’s sleepy voice.

An overachiever and competitive to boot, he thought as he closed the door behind him. The kid was a Valentine through and through.

-----------------

All Fics & Edits: @annfg8 @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @doriopenheart @genevievemd @headoverheelsforramsey @lucy-268 @jamespotterthefirst @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @socalwriterbee @takemyopenheart @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Max & Sienna only: @aallotarenunelma @storyofmychoices @kyra75

#open heart #open heart choices #playchoices #choices open heart #sienna trinh #sienna trinh x oc #open heart fanfics #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfics #choices fanfiction #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #sienna trinh x max valentine #writers on tumblr

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duckprintspress · 2 months

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February 2024 Created Works Round-Up!

Duck Prints Press’s monthly “created works round-ups” are our opportunity to spotlight some of the amazing work that people working with us have done that ISN’T linked to their work with Duck Prints Press. We include fanworks, outside publications, and anything else that creators feel like sharing with y’all. Inclusion is voluntary and includes anything that they decided “hey, I want to put this on the created work’s round-up!”

Check out what they’ve shared with us this month…

Eliot Rocks the Memory Palace, Chapter Four: Art by EliotQueliot / @eliotqueliot

art || the magicians (tv) || m/m || quentin coldwater/eliot waugh || teen & up || creator choses not to use warnings || complete

summary: After dinner, Monster!Eliot takes Quentin sightseeing in New York City by moonlight.

There's a lovely view from the 103rd floor of the Empire State Building.

And the Monster set a nice cheery fire blazing in the bay.

Heights are fun.

other tags: falling, heights, possession

TUMBLR - AO3 - INSTAGRAM

All We Need Is One Good Day (Any Day That You're Alive), Chapter 1 by EliotQueliot / @eliotqueliot

fiction || the magicians (tv) || m/m || quentin coldwater/eliot waugh || mature || creator choses not to use warnings || 2,097 || work in progress

summary: A fluffy fic mixing the books by Lev Grossman with the show from SyFy, in which Quentin and Eliot do get to spend that summer together, but build on their immediate friendship to get together from day one of Q's classes.

AO3

Mosaic Haiku, Chapter 10 by EliotQueliot / @eliotqueliot

fiction || the magicians (tv) || m/m || quentin coldwater/eliot waugh || general audiences || creator choses not to use warnings || 124 || ongoing series

summary: I'm writing a series of haiku about Eliot and Quentin's lives together at the Mosaic (the timeloop lifetime in which they loved each other for 50 years). Just like the patterns they build there, I'll forever be adding new haiku, but yet the story is also always complete. My hope is to reflect the beauty of all life, just like they did.

AO3

Sailing to Blackspire, Chapter 5 by EliotQueliot / @eliotqueliot

fiction || the magicians (tv) || m/m || quentin coldwater/eliot waugh || explicit || creator choses not to use warnings || 11,539 || work in progress

summary: Quentin says he's staying with a Monster for all Eternity.

Eliot says, "Hell, no. Not without me."

In which Eliot and Quentin use their time aboard the Muntjac on the way to Castle Blackspire more wisely.

In this chapter, the friends continue to do their best to find alternate ways to turn magic back on, without Quentin and Eliot getting stuck in Castle Blackspire.

other tags: Canon-typical danger. Also, regarding the fic as a whole, please heed the rating. This is AU, but jumps off from canon at a specific point within 3x13. The characters don't know what I'm trying to fix because for them it hasn't happened (and in this fic, it never will). But Eliot (his POV) clearly knows that Quentin's life is ultimately in danger.

AO3

never a god by ilgaksu / @ilgaksu

fiction || mysterious lotus casebook || m/m, poly (one gender: male) || li lianhua/fang duobing/di feisheng, di feisheng/fang duobing || teen & up || creator choses not to use warnings || 1,077 || ongoing series

summary: The evening shift at the House of Scarlet Delights starts out just like any other.

other tags: Post Canon, Sex Work, Genderfluid Li Lianhua

AO3

bringing a gun to chekhov's house by ilgaksu / @ilgaksu

fiction || dune (2021), dune - frank herbert || f/m || paul atreides/chani kynes || explicit || creator choses not to use warnings || 1,895 || work in progress

summary: Chani sees him first in lectures. This is because he can’t stop staring at her. It’s unsubtle. It’s derivative. It’s the start of every novel written by a white man drowning in his own midlife crisis. Chani is wise to it; to him.

After a while, she realises she’s still looking right back.

other tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Academia, Postcolonialism, Breakup

AO3

On Writing Combat and Sex Scenes by Tris Lawrence / @tryslora

writing craft blog post || original work || no ships || teen & up || no major warnings apply || 1,523 || complete

summary: This post talks about writing sex and combat (and no, I do not mean combative sex). It is primarily SFW.

TUMBLR - PILLOWFORT

#created works round up #creator spotlight #duck prints press

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lilypadlys · 5 months

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Love Is Blind

Summary: Dewdrop has trouble letting go and being vulnerable. Rain and Phantom help take care of him.

Notes: This one was inspired by my roomate/self declared smut dealer. She knows I write fanfic and even though she’s not a ghost fan she’s been giving me general ideas for fics. We were on a road trip together and talking about our favorite smut tropes. She was like, you should write something with a guy dressed up nice and fucking someone on a bed with black sheets. And they're tied up or something. Maybe the room is lit by candles. My brain immediately went to how pretty Dew would look in contrast to black sheets. By the end of the trip not only had I decided to add Rain but Phantom had also joined the mix. This was a fun one. Everyone say thank you to my roommate for making this happen.

--- Rain removes his hands and Dew can hear him step back. “Isn’t he a vision like this?” He hears Phantom hum an affirmative. Dew had forgotten that Phantom was also present. He blushes a little at the reminder that the new ghoul is there to see him so vulnerable, a state he really only allows Rain or Aether. The accompanying arousal is not unwelcome though. “Going to let us help you feel good?” Rain asks. “Please?” Dew whispers. “So polite.” Rain coos. “See Phantom, he can behave. It just takes a special touch.”

Ship: Dewdrop/Rain/Phantom

Word Count: 3,348

Rating: Explicit

Tags: fluff and smut, PWP, light bondage, blindfolds, light dom/sub, quintessence use, cum eating, multiple orgasms, aftercare, cuddles

Horny ghouls below the cut or on AO3

As a former water ghoul, one would think Dewdrop would be immune to the siren song that all water ghouls know the words too. Unfortunately for him, whether due to his severed connection to the element, or the sheer allure Rain possesses, Dew has found himself under his siren’s spell many a time. Tonight is no different.

The evening started out innocent enough. The ghouls gathered for a movie night. Aurora is fully living up to her princess nickname. She got to pick the movie and currently resides in the best spot in the common room, the center of the couch between her girls. Dew sits off to the side. He lays boredly against the wall, not really watching the movie. It's a cheesy rom-com and once you’ve seen one you’ve seen them all. He's really not feeling it tonight but Aether asked him to at least make an appearance so Dew humors him.

Rather than paying attention, he shuffles restlessly, tail whipping in annoyance. He’s been here long enough. He’ll sneak out and go do maintenance on his guitars or something. He’s about to leave, already sitting up and stretching in preparation to stand. Then out of nowhere, Rain suddenly glues himself to Dew’s side.

Rain had been cuddling with Phantom all night thus far but now he presses himself into Dew. It’s instead Phantom that stands with a yawn and heads towards the door. He rounds the corner in the wrong direction to head to his room, Dew might have noted, if he wasn't distracted by the water ghoul.

“Geez Rain. You scare Bug off or something?” Dew snorts.

“Nah. He had to go do something. Can I braid your hair?”

“Uhh, sure?” Dew shrugs, feigning disinterest.

It wasn’t an uncommon request. Dew secretly loves it but he’d never admit it. Rain knows though and plays with his hair whenever he gets the chance. Permission granted, Rain curls up behind Dew and begins the task of untangling his rat’s nest. Dew seems lost on the concept when it comes to hair care or even just regular hair brushing. He’ll forever deny that he intentionally leaves it messy in an attempt to get Rain to play with it.

Fortunately Rain has the patience to slowly and carefully untangle knot after knot. By the time he can start freely running his fingers through his tresses, Dew is purring without fail. Rain takes his sweet time braiding. Painstakingly separating the sections so they're even, and then combing through the strands as he braids to make the plait as smooth as possible. Finally, he ties it off with a hair tie conjured from his pocket. He always has hair ties on hand for just this purpose.

When the braid is finished, Rain plops himself into Dew’s lap.

“What’s up with you? You’re clingy tonight.” Dew raises a brow, but his purring somehow gets deeper.

“I’m cold.” Rain pouts.

“There’s like five blankets within reach.”

“Yeah but you’re warmer.” Rain looks up at Dew, eyes big in puppy dog like pleading.

“Ugh fine.” Dew rolls his eyes but without any real bite.

Rain hums and starts to get comfortable. He sits with his back to Dew’s chest; the fire ghoul’s legs straddling his own hips. Over the course of a few minutes, Rain’s torso gradually slides down and in readjusting himself back up, his ass brushes against Dew’s crotch. Dew tenses and huffs out a breath. Rain shifts his hips again and Dew practically hisses.

“Raincloud.” Dew grumbles.

“What?” Rain looks at him with big innocent eyes.

“Stop moving.”

“I’m just getting comfy.” He humphs.

“Well hurry up or find a new spot. And stop grinding on me.”

Rain gets a mischievous look. “Oh, so don’t do this?” He presses his ass back into Dew and the fire ghoul does hiss this time.

“Alright, that’s it.” He growls dangerously, but it’s all for show. If this is his excuse to bow out of movie night early, all the better.

He scoops Rain up, strong despite his small size. Rain just grins as the girls giggle and Swiss whistles. Dew makes to go to his room but Rain tugs his sleeve and points to his room instead. Dew huffs but turns around and goes the opposite direction. He toes Rain’s door open, already cracked, and enters. And freezes in surprise as he takes in the room.

The room is dim, lit only by the fireplace and the black tallow candles spaced around the room. The bed is made with black silk sheets, way more expensive looking than the ones the boys are usually allowed. Blowing out a match after lighting the last candle is Phantom.

Rain hops down from Dew’s hold as the fire ghoul appraises the room. He crosses the room to gently tussle Phantom’s hair.

“Good job Bug. You did great setting everything up.”

Phantom purrs and leans into the touch.

Rain looks back to Dew, spearing him with his gaze. Gone is the sleepy clinginess. It was an act, Dew realizes. Now it’s replaced with something more calculating.

“This can go one of two ways. We can play it straight. Get you off real quick and you can go to bed. Or, we can have some fun. Up to you.”

And how can Dew say no to a scene as delicious as this? “Sure, why not? I’m game. Let’s play.”

“Then kneel for us.”

“Us? Me?” Dew blinks in confusion. So that’s how this is going to go. He thought Rain just wanted to be taken care of. Or maybe that Phantom was the prey. He realizes too late that he is.

He almost protests, in a bratty move rather than one of lack of interest. He's already falling to his knees though. Something about the hungry stare Rain pins him with stops him. Makes his legs weak and his head spin. He knows he’s in for it. In too deep and unable to refuse his siren. He looks up as Rain retrieves something from his desk and approaches. Rain shows him the length of black silk. A blindfold. He raises it in question.

Dew nods and ducks his head without complaint.

Rain gently pulls the silk over Dew’s eyes and ties it behind head, careful not to pull his hair. “How’s that?”

“Good.” Dew mumbles softly; shyly. He feels Rain take his hands and pull him to his feet.

“Now strip.”

Rain helps Dew remove his clothes, full of gentle caresses and coos of approval as his bare skin is revealed. Rain hasn’t touched him in any meaningful way yet, and yet Dew feels himself filling out. It’s the unexpectedness of every touch that has him extra sensitive. That, and the promise of what’s to come. Once he’s naked, he lets Rain guide him to the bed.

“Lie back for me.”

Dew does as he’s told and leans back into the silk sheets, reveling in how luxurious they are. They’re smooth and cool against his perpetually hot skin. He’s interrupted by Rain softly tracing his fingers over Dew’s arm. “One more thing.” Rain wraps another length of silk around one of Dew’s wrists. “Color?”

“Green.” Dew assures after a moment, proffering the other wrist and letting Rain bind them above his head.

Rain removes his hands and Dew can hear him step back.

“Isn’t he a vision like this?”

He hears Phantom hum an affirmative. Dew had forgotten that Phantom was also present. He blushes a little at the reminder that the new ghoul is there to see him so vulnerable, a state he really only allows Rain or Aether. The accompanying arousal is not unwelcome though.

“Going to let us help you feel good?” Rain asks.

“Please?” Dew whispers.

“So polite.” Rain coos. “See Phantom, he can behave. It just takes a special touch.”

Dew feels the mattress depress on either side of him and both ghouls join him on the bed. Someone, Rain from the petrichor taste, kisses him deeply. He feels a hand, probably Phantom’s as he thinks it's Rain’s hands cupping his face, stroking his hair. When Rain pulls away to suck marks into his neck, he barely has time to catch his breath before Phantom is licking into his mouth.

They take turns kissing him until his lips are swollen and spit slicked. He already feels drunk on their kisses alone. He yelps a little when someone rolls a nipple between their fingers. They shush him as they pull and twist on the ring threaded through the bud.

“We’ve got you. Just relax.” Rain purrs.

Their hands wander all over and Dew loses track of who’s who. Both Rain and Phantom run cold and their hands have similar callouses from their respective instruments. He eventually gives up trying to keep track when he swears he feels a third set of hands. The tell tale ozone scent of quintessence magick reveals the extra touches to be a trick of Phantom’s. He just tries to let himself lie back and feel.

As he allows himself to sink into the mattress, the tension in his shoulders and jaw visibly eases. Rain rewards him with a “That’s our good boy. Just focus on feeling good.”

Rain and Phantom are in no hurry. They take the time to worship every inch of his skin with kisses and feather light touches. Dew feels like he’s floating. Head pleasantly spacy and empty. He’s hard before long but he feels no urgency about it.

He barely notices when his thighs are pushed apart. He’s jolted back to some semblance of presence however, when one of them finally gets a hand on his weeping cock. They thumb over the head gathering pre as the other begins to suck and nip at his nipples.

He gasps and thrashes at the sudden stimulation, overwhelming after nothing significant for so long. Hands descend to hold his hips down and keep his thighs spread and all he can do is throw his head back, a line of bitten off curses spilling from him. His orgasm hurtles towards him and he feels a hot breath on his neck.

“Cum Dewdrop.” Rain, smooth, cool, and commanding.

Dew can’t help but comply. He arches his back and makes the most wrecked noises as he cums hot over the hand stroking him and his own stomach. They work him through it, pulling each and every last drop from him until he begins to buck and whine in overstimulation.

When he comes down from it, it’s to someone caressing his face.

“How was that sweetheart?” Rain hums.

“Mmm, good.” Dew hums dreamily.

“Wanna taste?”

Dew obediently opens his mouth, and allows fingers covered in his own cum to pet at his tongue. He laps at them lazily, tasting himself. If he wasn’t blindfolded they would see how his eyes roll back. The soft pleased noises he makes give him away all the same.

“This far gone already?” Rain teases. “I think he can handle a bit more though. What do you think Phantom?”

“Oh definitely. Just a little more Dewy? You can do that for us right?”

Dew nods eagerly in the direction he thinks Phantom is in. “Please. Need it.” He whimpers.

Not seconds later he hears the click of a bottle and the wet squelch of lube. Cool greased fingers tease at his fluttering rim. Two fingers breach him and begin to work him open. A hand, also lubed, returns to his cock to work him back up again. He bites his lip, forcing back a whine from the overstimulation of it all.

Someone straddles him, bracing their knees at his sides.

“Gonna ride you. Is that okay?” Phantom asks.

“Uh huh.” Dew nods, head lolling slightly in his spaced out state.

Without further ado, he feels Phantom lower himself until the head of Dew’s cock nudges his hole. He sinks down and both ghouls moan with it. The slide is easy and Dew guesses that Phantom took the time to work himself open earlier with this in mind. Phantom takes a second to adjust, but Dew by no means gets a break. Rain’s fingers are still hard at work scissoring him open. Rain curls them to pet at his prostate and Dew hisses at Phantom to move already.

Phantom obliges and begins to rock and bounce his hips in a rapid rhythm. Dew’s cock must be hitting all the right spots with the way he’s making noises to envy the ones coming from Dew.

Dew is useless to help, the overwhelming sensations of Phantom’s tight channel and Rain’s skilled fingers causing any remaining capacity to think to utterly melt away. He just lets Phantom take what he needs, along for the ride. He hears the wet slick sound of Phantom taking himself in hand. His rhythm soon begins to falter, a telltale sign he’s on the edge.

“Close.” He whimpers.

Dew can only nod in agreement, the fangs pressed into his bottom lip threatening to break skin. He gasps, a moan escaping as Phantom squeezes tight around him and hot ropes of cum splatter against both their stomachs. Dew can’t hold back any longer and coats Phantom’s insides with his own release.

Phantom eases off, both of them hissing, before flopping down on the bed next to Dew. At some point, Rain had removed his fingers. Dew wonders for a split second if they’re done with him. Instead he feels Rain’s hard length at his entrance. He shakes his head in worry. His head is swimming. Every touch is overwhelmingly electric. He feels like he's going to explode. He’s not sure he can take it this soon. Not sure his body is going to let him get hard again for a while; much less cum.

“Rainy, I...I don’t think…”

Rain senses his dilemma. He feels a cool hand cup his cheek. “Sure you can. Been so good for us already. Just one more?”

Dew takes a deep breath and nods. “Okay.”

Just in case, Rain softens his tone and asks, “Color?”

“I’m green.” He says more assuredly “Need it. Please.”

“Good boy.” Rain praises, giving his cheek a pat. “Give him some help, Bug.” is Dew’s only warning before Phantom’s hand closes around his cock. He can feel the tingle of quintessence and he sobs as he begins to miraculously stiffen up again.

“Ready for me, droplet?”

“Yeah-fuck! Yes!” Dew pleads. The wave of quintessence is accompanied by a fresh tidal wave of need.

Rain plants his hands on Dew’s waist and steadies him. Dew can feel Rain line up and slowly push in. Even worked open by Rain’s skilled fingers, there's a delightful stretch. Dew’s mouth gapes in a silent cry as Rain bottoms out.

“So tight baby. Fits like a glove.” Rain hums, voice husky with pleasure.

Rain gives Dew a chance to adjust before starting slow smooth thrusts, aided by Rain and Dew’s slick. It’s a stark contrast to Phantom’s rabbit quick bounces. Rain goes almost maddeningly slow. Dew can feel every inch as Rain fucks into him lovingly.

Rain keeps up a steady string of praise. “Good boy. So pretty like this. Taking it so well.” It’s making Dew crazy, how relaxed and level Rain sounds. As if he’s not buried in Dew’s ass and melting what’s left of his brain with each thrust.

After what seems like an eternity, Dew feels his hips get lifted as a pillow is shoved underneath him. The angle change is devastating. Rain pairs it with a hard and fast thrust that sends Dew gasping. From that point on, both are chasing their pleasure. The room is filled with desperate moans and the squelch of slick. They find a rhythm, Rain pounding him into the mattress as Dew desperately cants his hips to meet Rain’s thrusts.

Dew feels a hand wrap around his length, likely Phantom, and all he can do is thump his head back into the pillows, so overwhelmed by the onslaught of pleasure to do much else. Rain leans down over him, his body delightfully cool in comparison to Dew’s sweat damp skin. They lock lips as the pleasure mounts, moaning into each other’s mouths as they cum in tandem.

Dew sees stars, and everything goes hazy in the aftermath of his third orgasm. When he comes back to himself, limbs heavy and body pleasantly satiated, he’s pressed between Rain and Phantom. Both pet him tenderly, murmuring praises and sweet nothings. He can see them looking down at him fondly, the blindfold having been removed. Phantom soothingly massages his wrists, slightly sore from the tie.

“Back with us droplet?”

He mrrps in what he hopes they understand as an affirmative.

They seem to, leaning in to press kisses to his face.

“I’m so proud of you. You did so well for us sweetheart.” Rain hums.

Phantom nods. “So good.”

Dew just presses his face into Rain’s chest to hide the flush still coloring his cheeks.

“Oh, feeling shy?” Phantom smiles. “That’s okay. We’ve got you.”

After Dew has shaken off a little more of the haze he squirms a little. “Sticky.” He whimpers.

“I know, baby. Let's go get rinsed off and find some clean sheets, okay?” Rain offers.

Dew sleepily nods.

The three of them pile into Rain’s massive bathtub and soak to their heart’s content; all of them sleepy and relaxed. They keep Dew between them, pressed close to either side. It’s both due to Dew’s clinginess and neither of them trusting him to stay upright on his own. When they feel sufficiently clean, they dry off with fluffy towels and put on pajamas that Rain was sure to have waiting. Then they set up a blanket nest on the floor in front of Rain’s fireplace. Dew and Phantom curl up immediately. Rain replaces the bed sheets with clean white cotton ones before joining them, sliding in on Dew’s free side.

They sit in silence for a while, just cuddling in front of the fire. Suddenly, Phantom turns to Dew.

“You enjoyed that right? Was it okay that I was here?”

Dew blinks sleepily. “Yeah, it was good Bug. Don’t worry about it.” He waves a hand to dismiss the thought.

“Okay good. Rain said he had to wrangle you here so I wasn’t sure.”

Rain chuffs. “Yeah he pretends to hate it but he loves it.”

Phantom tilts his head in curiosity. “Why pretend to not like it then? If you enjoy it, why don’t you just ask for it?”

Rain tenses, preparing for Dew’s inevitable snarky remark. Phantom means well but he’s treading in dangerous territory.

To his surprise however, Dew’s soft, rather than harsh, reply is “I…I dunno…” He trails off.

Rain is ready to jump in but Phantom stops him, gently touching his shoulder and shaking his head as if to say, wait.

Dew sighs and finds his words. “I guess…I'm scared to be vulnerable. Scared to let my guard down.” He shrugs and shakes his head in self directed annoyance.

“But we’re not going to hurt you.” Phantom supplies. “You’re part of our pack. You’re family.”

“Yeah, I know that. It’s just, it took me a long time to adjust to life topside…then when I finally did, the element change fucked everything up for a while.” He rolls his eyes and huffs. “Then, I had to readjust all over again. I guess…I’m just afraid of losing control again. Rain and Aeth have been trying to help. It’s getting better but…” He shrugs again as if to brush it all off.

Phantom thinks over Dew’s words quietly and Rain soothingly rubs the fire ghoul’s back. Finally he says, “Thank you for trusting me and letting us take care of you.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it.” Dew waves it off, but the slight smile he tries to hide by ducking his head into Rain’s chest gives him away. All the same, he murmurs quietly, “Thank you. I needed that.”

Rain wraps his arms around Dew and Phantom curls closer to press a kiss between his horns.

#the band ghost #ghost fanfiction #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #phantom ghoul #dewdrop/rain/phantom #smut #fluff #spicy tag #lys writes

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myloveforhergoeson · 2 months

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ash's march 2024 reading round up

find all the books and fics i read this month under the cut with a link to the synopsis and my reviews/ratings attached :)

this is just for fun! i'm not a professional, i just like to read <3

booklist!

The Mistake by Elle Kennedy (18+)

• review: good book, fun read! nothing extraordinary but entertaining nonetheless, but i did struggle because the two main characters share the names of a few of my best friends... weird. anyway, i'm such a sucker for a second-chance romance, as logan and grace have in this novel after they're on the path to a relationship, but logan can't seem to get over the girl his best friend is dating... after a summer apart, both of them return to college and find themselves getting mixed up in each others business, which allows for time to reevaluate and find out together just what went wrong! love seeing a man grovel after he makes a mistake lol. but, again, it was a fun read, nothing super special or groundbreaking and i think elle kennedy has some internalized misogyny she needs to work out which comes through a bit in her writing sometimes. i don't think women in romance novels should always be put through terrible situations to culminate in a moment of love-clarity, but that's just me. that scene told me more about logan's character than grace's, which was nice to see him stand up for her and her friend, but still. hurt to read a bit. i am also slightly worried for graces' future as a therapist. she has absolutely no empathy when logan was opening up about his struggles with his father's alcoholism - to her credit, he wasn't telling her everything, not that he needs to, but still... regardless, i thought these two were cute. even after he blew her off big time in the beginning, he worked to prove he made a mistake and actively worked to better himself. i thought graces' list of things he needed to do to win her over was adorable - i wish there was more time spent on seeing him complete these tasks! the ramona (grace's kind of best friend) side plot was interesting but i was very caught off guard with how it was resolved... but! still enjoyed this book nonetheless~

• tw: depictions and scenes around alcoholism in a side character, side character held at party against her will

• rating: 3/5 boxes of blonde hair dye it must've taken grace to dye her hair

2. Happy Place by Emily Henry (18+ish)

• review: oh my god oh my god oh my GOD!!!!!!!! no book i've ever read has had such an emotional grip on me. i must've cried like five separate times while reading this book - not because it's sad, but because i found myself identifying with so many of the themes (and also because i may or may not have been going through it at the time of reading). this is a beautifully written tale about two ex-fiances, wyn and harriet, reuniting five months after their break up to join their friends on their yearly vacation to their favorite place in the world - a beach house in maine! - without telling anyone they've broke up. now, they must play the part of the once-happy couple they were in order to keep the peace and not ruin everyone's vacation. seeing how family, friendship, growing up, moving apart, grief, and not listening to one's heart affected each character absolutely gutted me in ways i was not expecting at all. like i said, i identified with so many of these themes, and the way they're all interwoven throughout the book is so masterful it literally brought me to tears. and not like silent streaks, i was sobbing at some parts. i also really loved that the book was told between two time periods: the present or "real life" and the past or "happy/dark place" so we could see the full span of wyn and harrys relationship, the connections they made with their friends, and how important each and every character is to each other. the scenes of the past felt so nostalgic, like i was there with everyone as friendships, and subsequently relationships, developed. the scenes from the present were just as comforting, even with all their real-life struggles. oh, yeah, and it was a romance novel. dubs for the second chance romance this month! anyway this one absolutely wrecked me and i cannot recommend it enough; one of my favorite books of all time! i could literally talk about it forever, but i'll stop here for now!

• rating: 5/5 times i stained the pages w my tears <3

3. Do Your Worst by Rosie Danan (18+)

• ok. lots to say about this one too but for different reasons lol. overall, i love the concept of this book. an archaeologist (clark) attempting to hit his big break after a rough patch, a curse breaker (riley) hired at the same site because the castle they're excavating has not let anyone discover much about it for hundreds of years, scottish folklore, romance... on paper this is a perfect book for someone like me, who loves both archaeology and the supernatural. however. i do not think that the concept of enemies to lovers really works in modern settings. i really think i've only enjoyed that trope in fantasy settings, but that's just me. like, you're telling me she straight up threatens him with a knife in the first 30 pages and he didn't immediately call the cops on her? he tries to humiliate her not even two chapters later? she breaks into his camper a chapter later? like yall... this isn't even enemies to lovers these guys just straight up hate each other. besides that, i thought the concept was fun. the curse placed upon the castle hundreds of years ago was on a romeo-and-juliet type couple and ended up affecting clark and riley in the same way, hence the enemies to lovers aspect. i thought the castle pushing them to be together to make up for what happened in the past was really cute! that being said the book specifically called out the enemies to lovers trope by name like eight separate times. it made me want to scream! we know that's whats going on, no need to repeat it! and i love a good modern reference, but im not sure four separate criminal minds shout outs were necessary. i love matthew gray gubler too but i do not need that to be randomly thrown in for no apparent reason. the book was really slow to start, i don't think i was really interested until about halfway through. also, i'll say it. some people really aren't meant to be together and i think those people are riley and clark. physical chemistry does not equal emotional chemistry and his confession really just came out of nowhere - i was so jarred. overall, weak characters, okay cringe millennial writing, and very interesting, detailed, and well thought out plot. there were some really great parts that made me blush or laugh out loud!

• 2.5/5 times clark made a comment no self respecting archaeologist would ever make...

fic list!

learning to love by autisticbarbie (3k)

• fandom: big time rush (tv)

• pairing: james diamond/original male character

• yall... such a cute one shot. literally had me giggling and kicking my feet and shit while reading. very well written too; i was so invested!!

this was the only fic i finished this month because i typically go for longer stories! (sorry to the two Inuyasha one shots i read and forgot to bookmark...)

but, i just started an incredibly long dr who/ofc fic called lost in time by whovianeverlark17 on wattpad and, as always, i'm reading icegirl2772's james diamond/ofc story take a shot in the dark on ao3! i'm not at the point where i've read enough of the first to recommend, but if you're a fan of btrtv fics take a shot in the dark is definitely for you!!!!!!! i love you oc fics i love you!

#once again: just for fun! not here to start anything - i'm just sharing my opinions #not giving the fic a star rating bc if someone did that to mine i'd throw up but it was very very good just trust me!#ash talks books #the mistake #elle kennedy #happy place #emily henry #do your worst #rosie danan

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helena-thompson · 1 year

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MAGIC Summary: Helena and Sebastian make out. Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Female MC Words: 715 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Tags / Warnings: Kissing, Oneshot, Canon Compliant, POV Third Person, Romance

No one had ever kissed Helena the way Sebastian did. She kissed a boy here and there before she ever came to Hogwarts—little, innocent kisses, with barely any tongue involved. She experimented a bit more when she briefly courted Eric Northcott. She got used to the feeling of hands on her body and a tongue in her mouth. Helena would admit it was… nice. But Eric had never kissed her like this.

Read on: AO3 | Wattpad | Tumblr (continue below)

- - - - -

I just randomly started thinking about these two making out and then this happened, okay?

Background info: Helena briefly dates Eric Northcott, literally only because she’s got a crush on Sebastian and she thinks he doesn’t have a chance because he’s off fooling around with random girls (he’s got issues) and she wants to try to get over him. I’ve got a whole post on how they end up together here: https://helena-thompson.tumblr.com/post/714050177335492608/i-have-to-make-my-obligatory-how-helena

More info about Helena (description, info on her and Sebastian, timeline, etc.) & a comprehensive list of all fics featuring her can be found on her character website: https://sites.google.com/view/helena-thompson/home

- - - - -

No one had ever kissed Helena the way Sebastian did.

She kissed a boy here and there before she ever came to Hogwarts—little, innocent kisses, with barely any tongue involved.

She experimented a bit more when she briefly courted Eric Northcott. She got used to the feeling of hands on her body and a tongue in her mouth. Helena would admit it was… nice.

But Eric had never kissed her like this.

Sebastian kissed her like he was a man starved, and she was the first meal he had in days—in weeks. His lips were so soft, and he knew exactly how to move them against hers… and he knew what to do with his tongue, too. Helena hated the fact that he was so well versed because he had so much practice with other girls, but at the same time, it was amazing, because he was just so good at it.

Sebastian practically drew the air from her lungs, suffocating her in the best way, had her going dizzy from him and his lips. He cradled her head in his hand, angled it to deepen their kiss as he pleased, taking what he wanted from her. Helena couldn’t help the little sounds he coaxed from her with a brush of his fingers over a sliver of exposed skin, a twist of his tongue just so against her own, or a press of his lips against the sensitive skin of her neck.

His scent engulfed her, the aroma of burning embers, old books, and that scent that was distinctly Sebastian mixed with the fragrance from the soap used in the Slytherin common room baths. It was like smelling that bloody amortentia potion all over again, except now, it was intoxicating.

His teeth grazed over her neck, his tongue following, before he sucked at her skin, marking her, claiming her. He would no doubt give her that stupidly satisfied smirk afterwards when he admired his handiwork, always left in a spot that was just barely visible from under the collar of her uniform, where everyone and anyone could see what he’d done.

Sebastian liked to hold her close, delightfully so, usually pressed between himself and something else—a sofa, the wall of the Undercroft, a secret alcove in the halls between classes—and he held her possessively, his fingers digging into her. It was almost as if his damned hands burned through her layers of clothing as he touched her. Their legs were practically tangled together, and when he moved just so—and when she had half a mind to realize—she sometimes felt that she wasn’t the only one who was so affected by their actions.

But Helena was becoming more adventurous, more bold in their escapades, mostly because of the way Sebastian drove her insane and she needed more.

She loved the deep little throaty sounds he made when she curled her fingers at his scalp at the nape of his neck, loved the way it sent shivers down her spine. She started grabbing fistfuls of his hair, holding him where she wanted, taking from his mouth as he took from hers, and she was rewarded with even more lovely sounds that sent tingles even lower than her spine.

If she was lucky, she managed to slither her hands under his jacket and vest to trace over his back through the thin cotton of his shirt. Perhaps most brazen thing Helena did, though, in her desire for more of him, was sliding her leg up Sebastian’s and hooking it around his thigh. Without hesitation, he grabbed her, securing her leg around his waist as he settled even closer to her, and she could feel the rumble of his moan in his chest as he pressed it against hers.

Merlin help her, it was both too much and not enough at the same time.

They finally parted to breathe, Sebastian’s forehead resting upon her own. Helena could feel his breath on her face as they both gasped and gulped for air, and as she stared up into his beautiful, brown eyes, only one thing crossed her mind.

No one had ever kissed Helena the way Sebastian did… and it might have been the most magical thing she’d come across since arriving at Hogwarts.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian x mc #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy #helena x sebastian #i'm sorry i just thought about them smooching and then this happened #my writing

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sassy-ahsoka-tano · 2 years

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The Demon to Your Angel

Character/Fandom: Austin Butler

Requested: yes - anon!

Prompt: You're having the best time ever at the biggest Halloween party in the area. Until your best friend, the other half of your angel/demon costume, ditches you. Luckily, a mysterious and incredibly handsome demon comes to your rescue. This fic can be read with a GN reader but the costume does lean generally fem.

#7 NSFW: “I’ll be the demon to your angel.”

TW: A quick mention of death if you squint but that's it!

Rating: Pg-13 || Word Count: 2405

A/N: this is such a fun prompt, so i hope y'all enjoy this one!! 💕

🦋 mila

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

“Y/N! Y/N! I need you.”

Your head jerks to attention as Carrie, your best friend and the other half of your costume, hops over to you with a massive smile plastered on her face. She takes ahold of your hands and pulls you around to face her straight on.

“What’s up, bestie?” you ask, sharing her excited expression even though you don't yet know what she's so enthusiastic about.

“I am so, so sorry about this, but I think I have to leave,” she explains and your smile quickly fades.

“Leave? What do you mean?”

“Okay, see that guy over there?” she asks and you follow her fingers which are gesturing toward a super tall and nicely built man standing in the corner. He’s dressed as a baseball player with tight pinstripe pants and a fake jersey and everything.

“What about him?”

“We’ve been hanging out all night and we've both totally been flirting. I can tell that he likes me. A lot. I think we’re gonna hook up but I have to be home by twelve, curfew you know, so I need to leave now if I wanna get him in,” she expands.

“Carrie! Are you serious? Do you even know him?”

“I mean technically not, but I know him well enough to know that I want him in my pants.”

“You’re seriously gonna leave me here alone to go sleep with some dude you just met?”

“No, but I really like him. Like really like him.”

“But you can’t go! You’re the other half of our costume. It’ll look stupid if you leave.”

“It won’t look stupid! Tons of people dress as sexy angels for Halloween,” your best friend squeezes your fingers and then points toward someone passing who is, in fact, also dressed as a sexy angel. “See, there’s one. Y/N, you know that I wouldn’t ask this unless I was really serious. Please?”

You sigh as you stare over into her big puppy dog eyes and pouty lower lip. Although you’ve already decided to let her go, you pretend to consider her offer for a few moments. You finally groan and then nod.

“Fine. But you’d better score an in-the-park home run with this one for what you’re putting me through,” you reply firmly.

Despite your unamused tone, a smile quickly spreads across your face. Carrie practically jumps into your arms, throwing her hands around your shoulders and pulling you close. She squeezes you painfully and you gently pat her back.

“Okay hurting me, hurting me,” you choke out and she pulls away with a laugh.

She winks and thanks you before zipping off to find the baseball player again. Before you know it, you’re standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room by yourself. You know a few people at the party but not nearly enough to make you feel comfortable. Crossing your arms over your chest, you wade through the crowd and find your way into the kitchen for a drink and some quiet time. As you pass, you scan the faces around you, trying desperately to find someone, anyone, you know or at least someone interesting to talk to. No such luck.

You walk into the bright kitchen, reaching for a red Solo cup to scoop yourself some of the spooky punch the host has mixed up. As you raise the spoon up from the punch bowl, your stomach turns at the nausea-inducing dark green liquid. A small placard in front of the bowl reads ‘Witch’s Brew’ and you place the spoon back inside.

“I’ll pass, thanks,” you mumble to yourself although there’s no one else in the kitchen to hear you.

You're leaning over to inspect the other drink options when a man’s voice startles you.

“Looking for something?”

Your head pops up to see a young man you’ve never met before. You don’t even think you’ve ever seen him before. He’s tall with long legs and a thin frame. His hair curls around the top of his head and a few strands flop lazily onto his forehead. You can tell that he's naturally blonde but the tips of some of the locks have been sprayed or dyed a deep, dark red. You find yourself startled again when your eyes meet his gaze. Yellow…his eyes are yellow?

As he takes a step closer, you breathe a sigh of relief. Of course, he has contacts on, which you assume are part of whatever costume he’s supposed to be wearing.

“Just something to drink that doesn’t look like regurgitated salad,” you say, gesturing toward the green liquid.

A handsome smirk crosses his features and you take that moment to admire the dramatic curve of his Cupid’s Bow and the strong, harsh angles of his jawline.

“There’s beers in the fridge,” he says, taking another step into the kitchen and leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Thanks,” you reply but make no effort to move. You’re far more interested in drinking him in.

You take a moment to glance down at his costume, or whatever vague bits of it there are. Besides the contacts and red tips, he’s donning a bit of black eyeshadow around his eyes and eyeliner on his waterline. As for the costume itself, it’s extremely ambiguous: just a grey t-shirt with rips and tears in it, a pair of black ripped jeans, and a leather jacket over that with matching black combat boots. A belt is latched across his waist with a chain hanging loosely near his hipbone. He could be any number of things, a vampire, a biker, some kind of rockstar.

“So…what are you supposed to be?” you ask.

“What do you think I am?” he quips, that mischievous smirk returning.

You scoff and shake your head, leaning over the kitchen counter. You catch his eyes drifting down and taking inventory of your chest, which is quite visible to him now that your torso is bent in half over the counter.

“Hmm….smile, please,” you respond.

“What for?”

“I need to see your teeth to make a more educated conjecture.”

He shakes his head dismissively but smiles anyway, making sure that you can see his canines clearly. You hum to yourself when you don't notice any fangs or other tooth modifications glued or attached to his natural pearly whites.

“Not a vampire…are you some sort of possessed biker? A rockstar? A metal singer? A ghost?”

He chuckles, taking a few steps closer to you and mimicking your position over the counter.

“Not exactly.”

“Damn. Well then, I give up. What are you?”

He shrugs, tossing his hand with the fingers curled upward in a gesture that acts out exactly what he replies.

“Whatever you need me to be.”

You absentmindedly recoil just a tad, surprised by his answer. You can’t help the laugh that manages to slip out from between your lips.

“Okay, hot stuff,” you reply with a giggle. “Your timing is perfect, couldn't be better, actually. I could really use you. The other half of my costume kinda left already.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, she had a date with a baseball player.”

“I'm happy to be her replacement. But first, let me look at you so I can figure out what I need to become.”

“Do you…seriously not understand what I’m supposed to be?”

A fleeting moment of panic thumps your chest as you wonder if your costume has somehow been unclear the entire night. But your concern quickly fades when you glance down at your body-hugging white dress, white fishnet stockings, white boots, and matching white feathery wings.

“Oh, I know what you are. I just wanna get a better look at you. All of you,” he says and you find yourself lost for words.

Your heart begins to thump in your chest and you gulp as you stare across the kitchen at him. You can barely discern a hint of blue iris underneath the bright yellow contacts in his eyes. His gaze is so intense at the moment that you have a difficult time tearing yourself away from it. After a few seconds of strange, impulsive staring, you clear your throat and jerk yourself back to reality.

“Uh…sure thing,” you say, stepping out from behind the counter.

As you move into his full view, you nervously pull the hem of your dress down and adjust the headband pushed into your hair on which you hot-glued a sparkly halo made from a cheap boa. His gaze follows you as he takes you in. After a few minutes of silence, his eyes dragging painfully slowly up and down your figure, you finally speak up.

“So…what am I, then?”

“Angel. Which means I’m guessing the other half of your costume was a demon?”

“Yes, she was a demon.”

He pushes himself off the counter and approaches you. You feel your body stiffen as he steps closer to you. The heels of his boots echo quietly in the small room. He advances until he’s standing right in front of you, so close that you can just barely smell a hint of his musky cologne.

“Don’t worry,” he says, lifting a finger underneath your chin and tilting your face up to meet his. “I’ll be the demon to your angel.”

His thumb clamps onto your chin, holding your face hostage and your gaze firmly attached to his. You’re completely and utterly frozen under his touch. You don’t know what to do with yourself other than stare up at him. But you don’t get to do it for long because his grip tightens and he pulls your face up toward his. Your eyes widen at first and quickly flutter closed when his lips land on yours. You usually don’t kiss men you’ve just met but he’s so…so…

You find your body stepping closer to him, your fingers grasping onto the smooth fabric of his leather jacket and holding him close to you. His fingers release your chin and wind around your waist, pulling your stomach flush against his. Your lips separate with a satisfying pop as you pull back just long enough to look up at him.

“You’re like a dream…” he whispers, his warm breath tickling your lips. With your eyes still closed, you giggle breathily and smile.

“What kind of dream?”

“The best dream I’ve ever had. When I die, I hope I’m lucky enough to wake up and find you at the gates of heaven.”

“Oh my god,” you reply with another giggle. “That was seriously the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Hey, heaven is supposed to be paradise, isn’t it?”

He smirks and readjusts so that his palm is cupping your cheek while the other grips your hip. You let your hands slide up his chest and tangle onto his neck and hair as he leans down for another kiss. You feel him starting to walk you back and unintentionally yelp into the kiss when your back hits the cool steel of the refrigerator. His strong, lean body pushes onto your frame. Your fingers tug at his hair, winding around the soft curls and clawing through the crusty parts with the colored hair spray. His hand falls to your hip and onto your thigh, gripping the exposed skin and-

“Uh..hey where’s the beer?”

The mysterious man releases you and steps back, flustered and startled. When he’s out of the way, your eyes land on a random party guest dressed as a minion with yellow body paint and blue overalls. You hastily readjust your dress and the headband again before pulling the straps of the wings back onto your shoulders.

“Uh, yeah, in there, man,” your demon counterpart responds, gesturing toward the fridge.

You quickly step out of the way as all of the heat in your body floods into your face, neck, and ears. The minion steps up to the fridge and pulls out a handful of beers. Meanwhile, you tuck your hands behind your tailbone and lean against the counter, avoiding the eyes of the two men in the room while you try to get a handle on the embarrassment you're experiencing. Several awkward silent moments pass as the man shuts the fridge and returns to the party. When he’s gone, you finally dare to make eye contact with your newfound demon partner.

“Well that was awkward,” you say nervously with a fake laugh.

He just shrugs. Your mind flashes back to the minion costume and your eyes refocus on his low-effort costume again.

“Hey, what are you actually supposed to be, anyway?” you ask. “You obviously wore some kind of costume cause I can see your makeup and contacts.”

“Oh, I'm not anything,” he says with a shrug. “I didn’t dress as anything specific, but I didn’t wanna get called out for not being in costume. I had my sister slap this makeup on me to make me look just spooky enough so that people wouldn’t question it.”

You step up to the kitchen counter, resuming the same leaning position that you’d been in earlier. He mimics you once again.

“So…you just came as some normal dude with makeup? Why the contacts, though? People who don’t care about their costumes don’t just decide to wear contacts for fun.”

“I just thought they made me look cooler. Don’t you?”

He throws a couple of finger guns your way and you laugh.

“You aren’t wrong. They do make you look very, very cool,” you agree with a nod.

“Plus I had to look my best,” he says, readjusting his jacket and straightening himself up. He holds out his elbow for you to take. “Meeting an angel as dreamy and beautiful as you warrants a demon’s very best attire. May I have the pleasure of escorting my angel home tonight?”

You giggle and curtsey before linking your arm in his. You make your way back through the living room, where most of the party is. He helps you remove your angel wings and shrug on your coat. As you exit the party and start on the walk home, he carries your wings in one hand and intertwines his fingers into your other hand. After a few moments of comfortable silence, he speaks up.

“What should I call you, my angel?” he asks, shooting you a grin.

You’d forgotten that neither of you knew the other’s name. You’d both gotten so caught up in the chaos and desperation of your attraction that you hadn’t even introduced yourselves to each other.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeats quietly. “I’m Austin.”

“Austin the demon,” you say through a giggle. “And I always thought demons were supposed to be scary.”

“How do you think we get all the souls? Not by being scary. By being sexy,” he replies and you laugh again.

“Be sexy, not scary,” you repeat, holding your hands up as if you’re admiring a billboard. “I like it.”

“I like you,” he responds without missing a beat.

“I like you too, Austin.”

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