#is also a song tailored for the two of them ;)

[maiumeni]

I GOT INSPIRED BY THIS AMAZING, WITTY, LEGS-KICKING FIC BY @paris-23 >o<

Please do check their work, fanfiction and art!!! The Narrator feels like the Narrator (in character, and very British)

(Edit: I've read more of their work and it's INSANE!!! ALL OF THEM. Oh dear.)

PS. I changed up the dialogue a bit due to the lack of space and context. Inspired by the scene, but not quite the same! That is precisely why you should read it. Come on, give it a try~

PSS. the 2nd panel is heavily referenced, does the TSP fandom recognise the show? tehe

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Infernal Shadows

Synopsis: Being one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, you like to keep up with colonies and overlord plans. Recently with the new extermination date out, you hold your annual gala sooner than usual. You hadn’t expected to get in the middle of the already heated feud between the Radio Demon and the head of Vox Tech.

Warnings: She/Her pronouns used for the reader, mentions of blood, voodoo?, Angel Dust being a horn-bag, Reader is referred too as Madame to the public. Vox and Alastor feud because I live for it.

Song for this chapter: The world we knew by Frank Sinatra.

A/N: I wanna make this a three part short story, so if anyone is interested in being tagged in the second part just let me know!! I hope you enjoy!!

Word count: 2655

Navigation!! // Masterlist!!! // Serendipity Writes (event) // Part two

Getting an invite to the annual crimson ball, hosted by yours truly, was nothing but an honor. Every overlord and every sinner in the pride ring waited anxiously for a letter. A black card with white letter in a cursive font stating ‘You have been personally invited by Hells biggest designer. The list of the gala was simple. The usual overlords, Zestial, Carmilla Carmine and her daughters, Zeezie, Rosie, Fredrick Von Eldritch and Bethesda von Eldritch. Alastor who had came back after seven years of hiding god knows where, and by special request, the three vee’s who had never attended the gala before. Then it becomes a bit more political.

Next on the list was the Goetia family, inviting the recently divorced prince with his daughter. Inviting Lucifer and Lilith, though they only ever came when everyone was gone. Then was their daughter Charlotte, who got a plus one as a special perk of being the princess of hell. Husk because he had been an old friend of yours before his status of Overlord was taken from him by none other than Alastor. He was also given a plus one, though he usually never brought anyone extra. Sir Pentious was a candidate, but ultimately scrapped from your list of invites as you felt he was too childish.

The gala was tonight and everything was going smoothly. Preparations were almost done, the foyer was spotless just the way you liked it, and everything seemed to be falling into place. You stared at yourself in the mirror. You had spent months designing your perfect dress for tonight. Everyone attending the gala knew there was only ever one color off limits, because you always wore it best. The color black always suited you perfectly. No one could wear it better than you.

Back at the hotel, Charlie felt guilty for using her authority as princess to have people help her get ready for this gala. Based on what Alastor had told her, there would be a lot of political powers and fellow overlords there. She wanted to look her best if she was going to pitch the hotel to them. She needed more people on board with the project, maybe someone who didn’t think it was complete and utterly ridiculous joke like Alastor did.

“How do I look?” Charlie asked as the makeup and hair artists stepped away from her. Charlie stepped out, allowing Vaggie to get a better look at her in a tailored charcoal gray suit, a departure from her usual vibrant red attire. The jacket, adorned with subtle pinstripes, accentuated her frame, while the crisp, white silk shirt underneath added a touch of formality. Completing the ensemble, she wore a black tie with a discreet pattern that hinted at both elegance and authority. The ensemble was a strategic choice, projecting confidence and a readiness to engage with the political powers present at the gala for the sake of her hotel. Vaggie smiled and hugged Charlie deeply, their embrace making Charlie feel a little less nervous about the whole ordeal.

“Charlie you look amazing. What happened to the red?” Vaggie asked, before Charlie just chuckled.

“Well, I wanted a change for tonight. I’m always in red, and I feel like they’ll take me more serious if I’m not walking in there with my usual attire. Besides, you read the invitation, ‘formal attire, look your best’.” Charlie said. Vaggie nodded, and Charlie pulled back from the hug to admire Vaggie in her dress. She was wearing a sleek and modern grey dress that gracefully embraced the formal occasion. The dress, with its tailored fit and subtle shimmer, exuded class. The knee-length hemline added a contemporary touch, and Vaggie had decided to pair it with black heels to complete the ensemble. The choice of grey complemented Charlie’s charcoal gray suit, creating a coordinated yet distinct look that would surely make an impression at the gala. Charlie felt her cheeks heat up taking in her appearance, her long hair gently pinned back, the loose pieces of hair framing her face.

“Aww, Vaggie you look so pretty!!” Charlie said excitedly. Vaggie just smiled, ignoring the way her cheeks heated up at Charlies compliment.

“I agree, you look good vagina.” Angel said mockingly, causing Vaggie to glare at him. Charlie just gushed.

“Angel be nice. This is really important for the hotel.” Charlie explained. He just nodded, tilting his head back and downing a bottle of liquor. The staff however was interrupted by Angel making a purring sound at Husk, who was dressed in a nice white suave dinner jacket, with perfect cutouts for his wings, along with some sleek black trousers and some black dress shoes. The match, he had a black silk lapel.

“I can think of another place that suit would look.” Angel said, leaning onto Husk. He rolls his eyes, bottle in hand.

“Do I even wanna know?” He asks, and Angel just grins.

“On my bedroom floo-“ Angel doesn’t get to finish, being shrugged off by Husk who just walks away with a shake of his head.

“Oh my gosh! Husk you look amazing!” Charlie squealed in delight. Husk just smiled softly before setting his drink on the bar counter.

“It appears everyone is ready.” Alastor said, the focus of the room shifting to him. Niffty was at his side studying his outfit from head to toe.

Alastor emerged in an ensemble that deviated from his usual eccentricity, opting for a more formal yet captivating look. A deep red velvet tailcoat adorned his frame, its luxurious texture catching the light. Dark-red lapels, meticulously piped with gold, added a touch of opulence. Underneath, he wore a perfectly tailored crimson dress shirt, the power emitting off of him. Suddenly, the room grew just a tad bit darker, the shadows of the room stretching just a bit. Complementing the ensemble, he chose a pair of well-fitted black dress pants, allowing the bold red hue to take center stage on his appearance. His choice of footwear shifted to polished black oxford shoes, a departure from his usual pointed-toe boots. The finishing touches of the outfit included a matching red silk bowtie, neatly knotted at his throat, and black leather gloves that added a refined edge. Alastor’s presence was commanding, radiating an air of formality while retaining the distinctive charm that defined him. The room was captivated by the Radio Demon’s unexpected transformation into a vision of refined class and style.

“You took forever for that?” Niffty said, before Angel Dust tossed a pillow at her.

“Shut it you. We, we are keeping,” Angel said, hands waving around Alastor, “to whatever this is.”

“Style.” Alastor said confidently. Vaggie just face palmed while Charlie clapped her hands together excitedly.

“Okay, I think everyone’s ready. Should we head out?” Charlie asked. Vaggie nodded, before Alastor dug the invitation out of his coat pocket. Standing near a wall, he traced the symbol on the back of the card on the wall. “Uh, Al? What are you doing?” Charlie asked. He grinned, putting his hand flat on the wall. The symbol began to glow green, before it opened a portal. On the other side, was a large house. The grand Victorian mansion stood as a testament to opulence, its imposing facade adorned with intricate wrought-iron black railings and embellished balconies with hints of chains. Tall, arched windows with stained glass panels framed the exterior, allowing glimpses of the soft glow emanating from within. The entrance, marked by a sweeping staircase, welcomed guests with ornate, carved intricate detailed doors. Charlie, Vaggie and Husk followed Alastor through the portal, Charlie waving goodbye to Niffty, and Angel. Sir Pentious was most likely hiding out in a room somewhere with his egg boys.

As guests approached, they marveled at the meticulous details of the architecture – elaborate moldings, corbels, and friezes adorned every corner. Ivy-clad walls added a touch of nature’s grace, intertwining with wrought-iron lampposts that cast a warm ambiance over the meticulously landscaped gardens.Inside, the grand foyer unfolded, revealing a sweeping staircase adorned with a rich, mahogany handrail. Crystal chandeliers hung from soaring ceilings, their light refracted by ornate mirrors that lined the walls. Plush Victorian-era furnishings, upholstered in rich fabrics, adorned the parlor rooms, creating intimate spaces for guests to gather and converse.Every room whispered of a bygone era – intricately patterned wallpaper, gilded frames displaying classical art, and the faint fragrance of aged wood and lavender.

The air was infused with a sense of refinement, transporting guests to a time when elegance reigned supreme. The Victorian mansion, a splendid backdrop for the gala, promised an evening steeped in grandeur and charm. In the middle of the exterior grounds, a grand fountain of blood took center stage. Its sculpted marble figures spouted blood into the air, catching the moonlight in a dance of liquid elegance. The fountain, surrounded by manicured gardens and flowering shrubs, became a focal point for guests as they strolled through the outdoor spaces, the gentle sound of cascading blood adding a serene touch to the gala’s errie atmosphere.

The overlords arrival made the event much more real. Alastor hums to himself as he walks around the outside grounds. There are servants of all kinds walking around with glasses of champagne. Rosie is sitting on a bench, plucking thorns off a rose. Alastor smiles to himself, happy to see a familiar face he know he can confide in.

“Rosie dear! So nice to see you.” Alastor said with a smile. She smiles at him, teeth razor sharp.

“Do you think you’ll be getting a seat tonight?” She asks, snapping the rose off its stem and tossing it to the side.

“Well of course I will. It’d be a mistake if I wasn’t.” Alastor said with a smile, crossing his legs as he sat down next to her. Sinners from all over the pride ring were socializing outside of the large mansion. He knew you were inside finalizing preparations and possibly screaming your head off. Overall, the air was chilled with a comfortable atmosphere. Well, it had been comfortable, until a loud noisy vehicle stopped at the front gates. Everyone’s heads were turning, Rosie and Alastor looking at each other with strained smiles. Stepping out of the large limousine were the three vee’s, vulgar music blaring from the vehicles speakers as the three made their way through the now open gates. Reporters lined the edges of the gates, trying desperately to see the overlords inside and to try and sneak into the gala, which was starting soon.

“Mr.Vox! Mr.Vox!” News reporters shouted. Velvet was busy taking selfies of her and her outfit, her assistant following close behind her. Valentino was busy looking down at everyone, smoking his usual, while taking his long strides next to Vox, who was in the middle of the three.

On Vox’s right was Valentino, who donned a captivating look for the gala. His tailored white suit boasted a jacket that reached just above the knee, a subtle departure from his usual floor-length coat. The crimson silk lining peeked through, adding a luxurious touch to the outfit. The coat, reminiscent of his extravagant style, also had a vivid-red hue with his signature white fur trim at the wrists. The black and white striped fur trim along the center-front added a distinctive flair. A gold chain and love-heart-shaped broach fastenings adorned the coat, creating an opulent yet alluring look. Finally, he wore polished black heeled boots, maintaining the sleek and captivating allure that defined Valentino’s presence. The familiar color scheme remained intact, blending sophistication with a hint of provocative charm for the grand gala.

On Vox’s left was Velvet, who had spent months perfecting her outfit for the gala, in hopes she’d be invited of course. She had begged the boys to keep a good public appearance, in hopes they’d be recognized and invited to the crimson gala. Velvette, deciding to ditch her usual style, embraced a lavish and over-the-top look that represented her brand. Dressed in a knee-length dress, the garment had a striking blend of black and red hues. The dress, fitted at the waist, flowed into a voluminous skirt, creating a sense of extravagance. The bodice of the dress featured intricate lace detailing. A white collar adorned with a velvet bow added a playful yet mature flair. The sleeves, a fusion of burgundy and white patterns, contributed to the overall lavish aesthetic she had been going for. Her accessories took on a more refined form. Velvet gloves, adorned with delicate lace, graced her hands, and a pearl necklace adorned her neck, adding a classic touch, completed with maroon heels, each step resonating with a sense of grandeur. Velvet’s transformation into this upscale attire reflected her desire to make a statement at the Crimson Gala.

In the middle, and the brains of the three vee’s, was none other than the head of Vox Tech, Vox himself. He wore a sleek and modern dark blue tuxedo, tailored with precision. Of course he could only have the best. The suit featured subtle futuristic patterns that enhanced his ‘perfect’ sense of style. To complement his high-tech vibe, Vox wore a light blue undershirt with an upside-down broadcast symbol. Vox's gala attire seamlessly blended power and control with his technological edge, creating a memorable look in shades of dark blue, which in his opinion, was the best color.

Upon seeing Alastor, Vox’s eye twitched noticeably. The gates shut behind the three vee’s, closing off the gala to the public. The overlords begin to get closer together unknowingly, Zestial finding a comfortable corner to watch things play out. Carmilla and Zeezie stand close together, whispering to one another as both Rosie and Alastor stand from the bench. Vox, Valentino and Velvet make their way to the Radio Demon and his colleagues.

“I see the grandpa’s were invited.” Velvet says with a scoff, scrolling through her phone.

“So disrespectful.” Carmilla says under her breath, looking away from the three vee’s.

“Hm, interesting, and I was beginning to think the only interesting thing tonight would be the dinner.” Bethesda said, her brother nodding.

“Well, it seems the children brought their play date to the public then.” Zeezie says. The other overlords laugh and Valentino sneers at her.

“Well an idiota like you would think so. Then again, don’t you all do the same with your diapers?” He asked, puffing the smoke into her face. She growls at him, fists clenching at her side, but Carmilla stops her.

“Didn’t they say this was an adult only gala?” Carmilla asked, Rosie chuckling at her words.

“Oh can it grandma.” Velvete said. But Vox remained silent, having his own personal staring match with Alastor, whose smile was stretched ear to ear, teeth on full display.

“I thought this gala was meant for real talent?” Vox asked, stepping closer to Alastor.

“Well it was until you showed up.” Alastor said with a smile. “There’s no originality in copying someone else.” He tuts. Vox narrows his eyes, face twisting with anger as he steps closer to Alastor again.

“You wanna tell me something, you old piece of-“ Vox is stopped, the lights to the exterior of the mansion dimming. The lights behind the large front doors opening slowly. Two tall black shadowy figures stepped from the door, smoke at their feet.

“Thank you all for your attendance. As we know, the annual Crimson Gala is held every year, and this year is no different. With the new extermination date, important decisions must be made. Tonight, ten individuals will be selected to sit at Madame’s table where she will discuss private plans on how to move forward.” The two said in unison. Everyone fell silent as more shadows appeared, each one sitting on the sides of the steps. Lights around the staircases began to light up, and people began making their way up the stairs.

“Well~ this should be fun.”

[bambikisss]

Freaky : C.San x S.Mingi

💕: Rockstar Guitarist! Mingi x Model Reader x Rockstar drummer! San

📙: You were invited to Milan for fashion week and end up sitting in between two members of the world's biggest rock group ATEEZ, who also seem to have a thing for you: both of them.

⚠: Unprotected sex (keep it wrapped), threesome (mmf), Spit, oral (m + f receiving), dumbification (reader), multiple rounds, all over the hotel room lol, pink haired mingi, cocky san + mingi, mention of trying anal, mentions of voyeurism, smut with a hint of plot in the beginning

Bambi's notes: So, this was a journey to write, so you know that means smut without much plot lol this is for my sangi fans, because who wouldn't want to be sandwiched between San and Mingi?

Song: Freak - a - Leek by Petey Pablo, Slow down by Chase Atlantic

Taglist: @xhexy @mingisprincess @yeosangiess @itsvxlentine @biancaness @sanhwalvr @haebaragisworld @s-h-y-a @imgenieforyou-boy @therealcuppicake @certifiedmoa @scarfac3

@kitty4hwa @conwunder @wisejudgedragonhairdo @frobin4ever

REBLOGS + COMMENTS ARE WELCOMED AND ENCOURAGED

Milan, Italy.

You had been invited to participate in fashion week among the various other stars that attended the event. You were one of the people who reporters and other paparazzi were excited to see. You were one of the world's most popular models, after all: you were on the covers of multiple magazines and were the face of many brands.

So you were used to the flashing lights of the paparazzi and the reporters trying to pull you for an interview. You didn't mind, though, actually enjoying it.

"Y/N! Look over here please!"

You smiled, turning the other way so that the many cameras could capture your back and your face from a new angle. You were dressed to the nines and you were happy that everyone liked your outfit, especially since the designer was a good friend of yours.

You were soon escorted to your seat, having a front-row seat on the bright white runway you had grown used to walking on. You crossed your legs as you looked down at the various freebies the fashion show gave you, looking through the bright blue bag with interest in hopes of making the time flow by faster. You always found that just watching the show wasn't as interesting as walking was.

However, while you were so focused on your bag, you didn't notice the reporters and many paparazzi outside screaming and rushing at a long black limousine. The windows were darkly tinted, not allowing anyone to peek inside at the two stars who arrived. There had been rumors about two surprising stars attending the show tonight, but no one knew who. And now with the door opening, everyone got to get pictures of the stars.

"Mingi, San, can I pull you into an interview?"

San raised an eyebrow at the reporter before tapping Mingi's back, pointing to the interview area before whispering into his ear "Let's just do one interview like HongJoong said to."

Mingi rolled his eyes behind his dark sunglasses, not happy about having to do an interview. Mingi just wanted to hurry up and take pictures then get to his seat; he was all for attention and good press, but the flashing lights tonight were too much.

Mingi and San were part of the world-renowned boy band "ATEEZ," the rock band that took the world by storm almost 3 years ago. Now, they were at the top of their game, but that also meant that they had to attend events like these. Usually, HongJoong, Seonghwa, and Yeosang would go to events like these, but they all were too busy to fly out, so that left Mingi and San to go as the others were also busy.

You had just placed your bag back down underneath your chair filled with goodies when you noticed the men approaching you, their custom-tailored suits giving your mind a perfect image of what could be underneath.

While you were checking them out, San and Mingi were doing the same thing, their eyes shamelessly checking you out as they moved to their seats that were on either side of you. Even though Mingi was wearing shades and you were facing forward, you could feel their eyes on you, undressing you as the last stars took their seats. You wanted to ask them questions, but you didn't know how to take their sudden attraction to you.

"Can you three move closer for a picture?" Your mental turmoil was interrupted by the photographer who looked at you hopefully. You nodded, feeling Mingi's hand slide behind your back as he moved closer to you. You silently gasped as San did the same, both of the men's hands on your bare back, their fingers feeling anywhere they could as they smiled for the picture.

"What's your name?" Mingi was now whispering into your ear as the photographer scurried away, the lights dimming as the show was about to begin. Your first attempt at responding was cut off by your silent gasp as both men's hands slowly moved down your back, their hands now resting dangerously low on your back, a smirk moving onto their lips at the feeling of you subtly arching your back for them.

"Y/N." Your name made San whistle lowly, his voice full of charms as his hand moved up your back, allowing Mingi to touch your lower back while he got to feel your upper back, his hand playing with the clasp on your necklace as he spoke so only you, him, and Mingi could hear. "You're a supermodel, right? I've heard all about you. I think I even own some of your magazines covers. I've always found you so hot, you know."

You felt your body stiffen at his words: He already knew about you? You turned to face San, only for Mingi's hand to grasp your jaw, making you face forward again as he whispered into your ear "You can't be giving San all your attention, Beautiful. You have to share between us, do you think you can handle that?"

When Mingi first asked that question, you were quick to answer yes. You thought you could handle teasing and talking between them both. You had sat around meeting rooms and kept conversations going with multiple people, so what was so hard about keeping conversation with two men?

But, that wasn't what he meant.

"Look up at us, baby girl."

You thought nothing of hanging out with the two rock stars after the fashion show, their lingering touches on your body almost drawing you into them as they walked with you to their limousine with the tinted-out windows. The minute the doors closed, though, their hands returned to your body, not even caring about the driver as they whispered all the things they wanted to do to you, especially together. You spent one part of the car ride on Mingi's lap, meeting his lips in a heated kiss while San bit your neck, leaving marks behind while his hands felt around your body before you switched to his lap, Mingi's lips now busy kissing your open back while San's tongue locked with yours in a heated kiss. They were skilled at riling you up, as if they'd done it before. You wouldn't put it past them, though.

But, now that they had you in their private suite in their hotel on your knees before them on the bed, you felt even more excited. Mingi licked his lips, turning to face San before he nodded his head, moving to get on the bed in front of you. He tilted his head as you turned around to watch San as he sat down in the chair facing the bed, making you feel confused. However, your view of him was pulled away as Mingi made you face him, his thumb moving along your bottom lip as he shook his head. "Don't look at San, babygirl. You have to worry about me first."

You nodded as your lips met Mingi's, the kiss picking up speed as San cursed from his chair, his hand moving to his pants. You couldn't help but kiss Mingi harder at the sound of that plus San unbuckling his pants. Mingi smirked, pulling back as his hands grabbed your wrists, placing your hands onto his own belt as he faced San with a proud smirk. "Seems like our little model likes hearing you, Sannie. I think she's getting excited."

"Oh, I think so Mingi" San rested his head back on the chair with a lazy smile, his hands now palming himself over his boxers as he watched you unbuckle Mingi's pants, your hands tugging away at it. You weren't even listening anymore as you leaned down to kiss and bite on Mingi's thighs as he pushed down his pants, making him hiss before his hand moved into your hair, making you look at him. Mingi didn't say anything, his eyes however showed how he felt though, darkening as he pushed down his boxers to reveal his hard cock. Mingi's hand moved from your hair to your lips, playing around with your lips till he spread them open, spitting into your mouth before humming.

"You're so pretty, babygirl. I can see why you're a model" Your eyes fell to Mingi's lip as he spoke, whimpering softly as he kissed you, both of your tongues meeting as you moaned, making Mingi moan as well. You whined as he pulled back, wanting more of his kisses. Mingi shook his head though, sitting back up as his fist wrapped around his cock, holding it to your lips. You knew what to do, about to dip your head down to taste his hard cock when Mingi's grip on your hair returned, stopping you. Instead, Mingi stood up from the bed, pulling you to the edge before he said "Make sure you get nice and loud for us, baby girl. Show me and San how good you can suck cock, and if you do good, we'll reward you."

You nodded, opening your mouth as Mingi fed his thick cock into your mouth slowly, both of you moaning at the feeling. Mingi felt so heavy, making you feel excited: you were no virgin, but none of the guys you had been with compared to how good Mingi's cock felt, even if it was just in your mouth.

"That's it baby, suck it." Mingi's voice had dropped even deeper, closing his eyes as you moved your tongue around his cock, bobbing your head at the same time, making him moan louder. "You're doing so, so good for me. That's right, take it deeper"

"Look at you, baby" You had been so focused on sucking Mingi and hearing his moans that you had almost forgotten about San, your eyes landing on him as he spoke to you, his cock leaking now as he had stripped himself. You moaned at the sight, the vibrations making Mingi moan loudly before he reached over to smack your ass, cursing that you were doing so fucking good. San chuckled at the sight of you staring up at him while Mingi was now fucking your throat, stretching you out with his cock.

"You must be so good at sucking dick, baby. I mean, you got Mingi short-circuiting and fucking your throat like you're a fleshlight," San laughed, Mingi's cheeks heating up a bit at his friend's teasing, but his pace didn't slow down. Instead, he picked up speed, making you choke. At the sound of you gargling around his cock, both boys moaned before Mingi pulled out to let you catch your breath. However, your break wasn't long before San rolled you over onto your back, straddling your chest as Mingi moved in between your legs.

"Don't look so nervous, baby" San cooed, his hands massaging your breasts as Mingi spread your legs, making you shiver. Suddenly, you closed your eyes and tossed your head back as you felt Mingi's tongue run slowly up your pussy before he moaned around your clit, pulling back to moan "Fuck, San, she's so wet for us. She's so excited."

"You're excited, huh?" San asked, gripping your hair to pull you back up to meet his eyes while Mingi got to work on eating you out, slurping away as his tongue tasted you. You nodded, moaning at Mingi's movements while San cooed again "I bet you are, our little filthy slut. You're a freak, just like us, huh? You acted all innocent when we proposed taking us both like this in the car, but now look at you." San licked his lips as he tightened his grip on your hair, pushing his cock into your mouth as Mingi continued to eat you out, pushing his finger into you.

"Mingi's finger and tongue is going to match the pace you set, baby" San hissed, leaning back with his free hand to place it onto Mingi's shoulder. Mingi looked up from your pussy, his eyes staring into yours as you began to bob your head on San's cock, moaning when his tongue began to match your pace: anytime you sped up, he sped up, and whenever you slowed down, he did the same.

San moaned above you, enjoying the show as he kept a firm grip on your hair and a grip on Mingi's shoulder. "Look at her, Mingi, look at how fucking dirty she is for us. Fuck, I can't wait to fuck that pussy" San had now tossed his head back at this point, knowing that if he watched anymore, he'd cum on the spot. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing his cock down into your throat as deep as he could as you moaned loudly around it, Mingi's tongue mirroring San's cock by shoving his tongue as deep as he could into your pussy. Mingi rolled his eyes back, moaning as your pussy squelched around his tongue, curling his tip to nudge your sweet spot, making your legs shake a bit around him.

San couldn't think about anything else, his hand moving back to grip his pink-haired friend's hair, shoving him deeper into your pussy as you gurgled around his cock, your eyes rolling back as San sped up his pace, watching the drool leak from the side of your lips, now mixing with his cum as he came in your mouth, your legs wrapping around Mingi's head as you came as well.

Mingi cleaned you up happily while San slowly pulled out from your mouth, cooing as you swallowed his cum. Mingi slowly kissed up your body, his hands moving to massage your cheeks as San sat next to you. You felt like you were in a daze, laying your head next to San's knee while Mingi slowly got off the bed. San leaned down to kiss you, praising you for being able to take his cock so well against your lips. You smiled at his praise, moaning his name in the kiss before sitting up.

You sighed as you got off the bed, looking for your clothes while San got off the bed as well. You didn't bother to look at the two men, assuming that they were getting dressed as well. "What do you think you're doing?"

You paused picking up your dress off the ground at Mingi's voice, turning to see him standing by the large windows, his arms behind his back, his cock twitching between his legs as he raised an eyebrow. You bit your lip, noticing how San has returned to his chair, his hand now palming his soft cock. "I thought..."

"You thought wrong, baby." Mingi smirked, tapping the window before he said "I don't know what made you think that, but I still need to cum, especially in that fucking perfect pussy of yours." Mingi walked over to you as he spoke, his hand landing on the small of your back before he pulled you close, his lips pressing against yours as he pulled your clothes from your hand. You were once again at his mercy as he led you to the windows, his hands moving around your curves before he had you face the window. You met his eyes in the reflection, his chest now pressed against your back as his cock moved in between your soft thighs, a proud mumble coming out of his lips as he smacked your ass.

"Don't tease her so much, Mingi. She can barely even stand up" San piped up making Mingi chuckle. He nodded though, pressing a kiss to your cheek before he pushed into your pussy, chuckling when your hands rushed to the window. "There's nothing for you to grab on there, baby" Mingi laughed, his pace speeding up to become one of power as he watched your body jolt forward at every thrust, your sinful moans becoming music to both men's ears.

"Is our baby having trouble thinking and telling us what she wants?" San asked, standing up from his chair to approach where Mingi had you, his hands moving to play with your nipples, tugging on it. He chuckled as you moaned loudly, looking at Mingi as your back arched. "She's so fucked out already, maybe she can't handle more, Mingi"

"No, I can" You protested loudly, Mingi's hand landing a hard spank on your ass while moaning out "Yeah, she can handle more, fuck." You had closed your eyes at this point, your legs almost giving out due to the pleasure.

Mingi chuckled at the sight, pulling out from your pussy as you whined, grabbing your arms to pull you to the coffee table that sat in front of the couch that was in the corner of the suite, pressing your chest down against the cool table as he shoved his cock back into your pussy, both men moaning loudly as your pussy loudly squelched around him. "Your pussy welcomes me back in so loudly, baby. It wants my cock, baby, sucking it in so fucking well."

You nodded, San moving to crouch in front of you, smirking at your already fucked out face.

"I think she needs more, Mingi."

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

"God you're so fucking greedy."

You could no longer tell who was who as you laid against his hard chest, the other one still fucking deep into your pussy. You and the two men had been all around the room, your body and cum on many different surfaces, making you feel bad for whoever had to clean this room when they checked out.

San was laying against the floor, your body on top of his as Mingi fucked you from behind. You bit your lip as Mingi landed another spank on your ass, spreading apart your cheeks so he could go even deeper into you, his rings leaving imprints on you as you moaned loudly. You were out of your mind at this point, San chuckling at the sight before he said "You're so fucked out, you can't even tell who is who, can't you? You don't know whose cock you're backing up against and whose chest you're drooling onto. You just wanna keep coming until you pass out, don't you?"

"She tightened around me when you said that, San" Mingi moaned, your cheeks heating up as San cooed at you, landing his own smack to your ass as he moaned out "She's a freak, just like us. We should keep her on speed dial and fly her out to us whenever we want. We could buy you some pretty lingerie and make you model it for us. We could even invite the rest of our band members to come watch"

Mingi had lost his own mind a while ago, but at San's words, he felt his cock twitch at the idea, leaning forward to bite down on your shoulder, drilling into your pussy as you moaned even louder, San gripping your face to make you look at him while he continued speaking. "You'd love that, wouldn't you? You don't care how wrong this is, don't you, you like this. Maybe I'll even buy you a pretty custom butt plug and send it to you, make you stretch yourself out so that we both can fuck you at the same time."

"I'm gonnna...I" You gasped out, cuming hard around Mingi's cock as he filled you up, both of your releases coating his cock and leaking from your cunt as he kissed your back, rubbing your sides. You were completely spent, landing on San's hard chest as he ran his hands through your hair, cooing at you.

"You did so well, babygirl. Here, I'll clean you up." San waited till Mingi moved off your back before picking you up, carrying you to the bathroom (where they had fucked you an hour before), placing you onto the toilet before turning the shower on. "Go ahead and use the bathroom, then I'll shower with you."

After the shower, San carried you back into the bedroom, placing you down on the bed as Mingi had put down new sheets. As you lay down in the warm sheets, Mingi and San went to clean up themselves, letting you fall asleep in the bed. You only woke up when you felt Mingi hug you from behind, San slipping in front of you to offer you a smile before placing a kiss onto your lips, Mingi waiting till San stopped before moving your head back to kiss him as well.

The next morning when you woke up, you were no longer sandwiched between the two men, but you were alone. You sat up, running your hand through your hair as you tried to figure out if it was a dream or not. You sighed as you fell back against the bed, grabbing your phone to see a text from your manager letting you know that checkout was in two hours and to start getting ready to fly back to the States soon.

You hummed, giving yourself a few minutes before you stood up from the bed, walking over to your suitcase. However, before you could go shower, you heard a knock at the door, followed by room service being wheeled into your room. The table was full of various fruits and breakfast, a beautiful bouquet of flowers in the center. When you picked up the flowers, you noticed a small card, the words on it making you smile.

'See you soon, baby. We'll be waiting for you ;) P.S: Hope your legs don't hurt too badly. M + S'

EXTRA

"Raise your hips, princess. Show me where you want my cock to go" You bit your lip as you raised your hips, your wetness leaking from your pussy, making Mingi moan. He considered himself addicted to your pussy, constantly wanting nothing more than to shove his hard cock into it and just ruin you. Heck, Mingi had even flown you out over the past couple months to whereever they were performing at to just do that as 'the pictures weren't enough for him.' Not that you were complaining.

You cursed softly as Mingi pushed his cock into you, his lips meeting yours as he picked you up to have your sit on his lap as he fucked up into you, his lips locked with yours.

"I knew I'd find her in here with you" San sighed, walking into the room as you turned from Mingi's lips, offering him a smile as Mingi continued to fuck up into you as he groaned out "you're just mad that you didn't get to her first, man. You had some of her on the plane, anyways. This is my first round with her"

San hummed as he kissed you, his hand moving to play with your breasts as you began to ride Mingi's cock, making him moan louder. "I wasn't complaining, just make sure you don't ruin her too much: I wanna take her outside and fuck her in the pool."

San and Mingi had flown you out to the Bahamas for your birthday, renting a private villa so that no one could see nor hear the three of you as you all went about your ''activities" together.

You bit your lip as you placed your hands onto Mingi's chest to ride him better, San's hands moving to grip your hips to help you as you tossed your head back onto his shoulder, kissing below his jaw as Mingi moaned at the sight. "Fuck, you're going to make me cum already. You learned so quickly how to ride my cock, princess."

"Well," San smirked, meeting your lips in a deep kiss, making out with you as your ground your hips down against Mingi's, San pulling back to make you look at Mingi, gripping your face as he said "She had some really good teachers. Isn't that right, Y/N? All you care about is riding our cocks and making us feel good, don't you?"

Mingi moaned loudly as you nodded, San's smirk growing before he whispered into your ear "then go ahead and make Mingi cum, baby. Then, you're going to sit on his face and we're going to teach you how to take care of both of our cocks at the same time. We've got all week, baby to go all around this villa, and we're not stopping."

Bambikisss | 2024

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

dear spring, stay forever ; satoru gojo, suguru geto, shoko ieiri

synopsis; just another mellow breakfast shared between you and your partners. (you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of it.)

word count; 3.8k

contents; sashisu/reader (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, all of u are whipped, lots of petnames, literally just breakfast fluff, it ended up kinda sugucentric on accident (not my fault btw he just really loves making breakfast for u that’s on him), also ended up kinda sappy at the end (that’s on me), implied no curses au, they’re in their twenties but it isn’t specified, everyone is eepy and in love <33

a/n; a little breakfast fic bc i love mornings and i love them :33 (tagging my beloved sashisu soldiers @catchuuu @staryukis i am making breakfast for both of u btw ☕️🥞) pls listen to spring thief by yorushika it’s the most sashisu song ever

as always, suguru is the first of you to make it into the kitchen.

he’s humming. it’s soft, a low lull of his voice, beckoning you closer like the call of a siren. sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms, fiddling with a pan, sizzling and simmering and breathing in the scent of pancakes; it pairs well with the espresso steam from the coffee pot to his right, the vase of hydrangeas by the windowsill.

it’s a sunny morning. the perfect setting for the start of your day, an atmosphere you can savour, like the gradual sipping of your soon-to-be morning cup of coffee. somewhere outside your vision comes a morning symphony, chirps and songs by cicadas and robins. splotches of sunlight splatter against the windows, the kitchen table, the floorboards — illuminating the man in front of the stove.

something in your chest constricts, when you look at him. a tenderness uprooted, a fondness watered and trimmed, a hungry plant only satiated at the sight of this; the back of his head, raven locks cascading down his broad shoulders in obsidian waves, hair put up into a lazy half-down bun. a little messy, a little too breathtaking for words. wearing a black turtleneck that hugs his waist just right.

you should be used to it, by now. suguru has always been an early bird, always the first to rouse from his slumber, only ever contended by shoko and her occasional bouts of sleep-deprivation. he’s always waiting for the three of you, just like this — in front of a sizzling pan, adjusting his glasses by the kitchen table, cooking or reading or simply reminiscing. content to stir in the peace and quiet of the morning hours, before the world wakes up. 

and he’s always taken to preparing breakfast for the four of you, always ready to greet you with a smile and a cup of freshly made cappuccino. he enjoys taking care of you, all three of you. always has.

(it wasn’t any different back when you were kids. suguru was always the first one in the dormitory’s kitchen, messing with the rusty french press or making a grossly bitter smoothie for himself. he was snarkier, more roundabout — but no less thoughtful. grumpy little shoko would always get the last bitter pumps of espresso, and sleepy little satoru would get a french toast if he asked nicely enough. and you? 

you got to see them, be with them. that alone would’ve been enough. the steaming cup of cappuccino left on the kitchen counter — a little too tailored to your taste to be a mere coincidence — was always nothing more than an added bonus.)

the soft humming falters, for no more than a beat or two. suguru shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and suddenly you can’t resist the temptation.

with clumsy steps, heavy feet weighed down by a sleepy sense of numbness, you stumble towards your target. it’s a familiar waltz, five steps to reach him, a warmth that spreads throughout your body in tandem with the curl of your arms around his waist. slumped against him, cheek squished against his upper back, you hold your breath.

silently, you wait. one, two, until you hear the familiar roll of his breath; a delighted little sigh that slips from his parted lips.

when suguru cranes his head to get a glimpse of you, his amber eyes are leaking adoration. a sense of liveliness, a joyous spark — like a firefly, the flicker of a rusty lighter. he looks well-rested, dark circles long faded, only the dimmest remnant of them still visible beneath his eyes. 

he holds your gaze, steady and kind, and then he’s leaning forward; eager to press his lips against your waiting forehead. glasses slipping ever so slightly down the bridge of his nose. the kiss is chaste, familiar. warm, warm, a faint heat that simmers in your chest, a tiny firework of a feeling. even the metal of his piercing feels warm on your skin. 

you melt into his spine, fingers searching for a pair of hands that find yours first — his thumb rubbing tender circles over your forearm. practiced, memorized, that familiar waltz of motions. he lingers against your skin, breathing in satoru’s favorite strawberry shampoo. you’ve been stealing it for weeks now. 

suguru’s lips curl up into something amused, still not quite willing to part from you. 

but then he does. turning towards the stove, reaching for the coffee pot with one hand, the other securing your own and lacing your fingers together. he gives them an affectionate squeeze, still resting on his lower stomach. a silent greeting that he always ends up voicing anyway.

”g’morning, love,” he croons, a little raspy, but sweet and nice. honeyed and deep, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. you hear him pour something into a cup. ”how did you sleep?”

all you can give him is a tired grunt, stretching your limbs out, blinking sluggishly to shoo away the drowsiness. suguru knows what to expect; he simply smiles, endeared, pouring steamed milk into your favorite cup. with a clink of his spoon against the ceramic, he adds the foam, stirring it carefully.

then he’s shifting his weight, angling his face towards yours, and pressing the rim of the cup against your lips — not before blowing on it gently. he watches as your eyelids flutter, waiting for the hum of contentment he’ll hear once you have your first sip. and he gets it. the rich aroma stirs you into a more awakened state, and a single taste of the creamy foam has you standing up a little straighter, humming in sleepy delight. suguru smiles, crow’s feet hidden behind his glasses. 

you accept the cup with a grateful squeeze of his palm, and he makes sure it’s steady in your hold before he faces forward again. another sip, and your throat feels a little less dry, your mind a lot less sluggish. so you answer his previous question. 

”… slept well,” another tiny sip. it’s hot, warming you up from the inside. ”i would’ve preferred waking up to you, though...”

a low chuckle bubbles up in your boyfriend’s throat. it makes you want to pout, but you smile instead. traitorous lips. 

he’s looking at you again, unable to help himself, reaching over to brush some loose strands of hair away from your face. ”aw, ’m sorry,” he coos, teasingly, sickeningly sweet. ”but then you wouldn’t have woken up to a fresh cup of coffee, hm?” 

now you really are pouting. he shifts, until you're standing chest to chest, and kisses it away. twice, for good measure. he must be in a good mood.

he usually is, at this time of year. when the air starts smelling of honeydew and snowdrops, and he’s awoken by barking dogs, luscious sunbeams splattered on soft bedsheets, the pitter patter of sudden spring rain. when the apricot trees outside your apartment complex begin to bloom; a flurry of sickly-white kisses pressed against your windows, sticking to the locks of your hair. it gives him an excuse to run his fingers through it. even when shoko whines for him to cut it out, and satoru purposefully shakes the branches to make the tiny white petals even harder to find. he must like having his hair ruffled like a misbehaving dog. 

they make suguru sigh and sigh, exasperated, but there’s always a smile waiting somewhere out of view. he’s not very good at hiding it.

(he likes the apricot trees. likes watching them change shape, colour, likes waiting for them to wither and blossom and turn into fruit.

once they’re ripe enough to pick, i’ll make marmalade for us.)

the morning waltz continues. while suguru continues to flip his pancakes, you sleepily decide to set the table. fondness erupts behind his eyelids at the gesture, small as it is. you stand on your tiptoes to reach the highest shelf, just to grab satoru’s favorite mug; one you all got him for his 19th birthday, a heartfelt message of world’s okayest boyfriend etched into the front. it was meant to make him pout and whine, but you’ve never seen him drink out of anything else at home.

you place the cup on the table with a soft thunk, along with plates and cutlery. suguru has already brought down a cup for shoko, seated on the kitchen counter next to him, soon to be filled with the same rich espresso he always drinks. he’s waiting until she joins you both, so it doesn’t end up going lukewarm. there’s nothing shoko hates more. you can practically hear that grumpy scoff, see her cute little frown.

your sleep schedules differ from day to day. suguru is always up early, satoru always sleeps in. shoko fluctuates between the two. you usually end up rousing from your slumber whenever the bed starts feeling a little too empty — a fact you doubt they’ll ever quit teasing you about.

that differs from day to day, too. sometimes you sleep with suguru, sometimes the other two, sometimes all three. you have your separate rooms, but always end up with your limbs intertwined one way or another; even if one of you comes home late or falls asleep on the couch watching tv. satoru can’t sleep without hugging someone, and suguru can’t fall asleep unless he knows you’re all sleeping well. shoko isn’t picky, but you know she feels safest when she’s linking elbows with you, or touching pinkies with suguru, or snoozing on top of satoru’s chest like a weighted blanket. as for you… 

you’ve gotten way too used to their touch to ever go without it. last night, you ended up in suguru’s room, tucked underneath his chin, while satoru snuck into shoko’s bed to convince her not to pull another all-nighter. you’re assuming it worked.

”mm, smells good. you makin’ pancakes?”

a bubbly, groggy voice spills into the air, just as a light breeze flits in through the window. soothing, refreshing. you turn your gaze towards its source.

and there they are. sleepy satoru, and grumpy shoko, the former clinging to the latter like an overgrown koala. satoru seems to be in high spirits, calling out to you with a smile, blue eyes glimmering like a sunny sky; but you can tell he’s tired by the way he’s stretching out his limbs, only wearing a pair of pyjama pants. and shoko is silent, blinking drowsily, twitching when his loud voice buzzes in her ear. she makes no move to push him away. 

suguru gazes at them with a smile, in tandem with you, nothing but fond. loving, in the way the amber of his eyes gleams and swirls with promises of something everlasting. he’s a little intense, honestly. but you wouldn’t have him any other way.

and, admittedly, your sleepy little partners are a sight for sore eyes. 

shoko meets your gaze, and finally decides to shake off the man with an arm over her shoulder. said man huffs, but makes no move to follow her when she stumbles into your arms. 

her limbs find their way around your midriff, her chin to the curve of your shoulder. her hair is loose, almost as long as suguru’s, messy and brushing against your cheek. your hand goes to smooth down her back, the fabric of her oversized shirt, soft and laced with the scent of laundry detergent. she yawns, right by your ear, lips jutted out into a small pout, and something in your chest returns. a hungry plant, drinking up her raspy voice, the glimpse you get of that mole beneath her eye. her stretch marks, when she pulls away and her shirt rides up enough to expose her thighs. little lightning bolts.

”morning,” you chirp. she presses a tiny kiss against your cheek, dangerously close to your lips; sometimes you think she does it just to tease you.

”hey, how come i didn’t get a morning kiss?”

shoko turns her head, finding satoru’s accusing stare. he’s pouting, tilting his head, already making his way over to suguru. but she only rolls her eyes.

”you’re such a baby.”

”you know you love me!”

suguru stifles a puff of laughter, leaning back against the kitchen counter, elbows resting on the marble. watching his partners with barely contained delight. satoru notices, grinning softly, throwing his arms around his boyfriend’s neck.

satoru’s kisses are always sloppy. you hear that drawn out mwah! even without looking at the pair, even without seeing his lips against suguru’s jaw. a phantom warmth sprouts on your skin. 

”good morning, handsome,” he purrs, low and rumbling through his chest, pressed flush against suguru’s — their heartbeats mingling together. soft skin against smooth fabric. there’s mischief in those aquamarine eyes, something teasing, and it makes suguru want to return the favour. 

”good morning, baby,” he presses his lips against satoru’s cheek. voice muffled against his soft skin, silky and deep. ”you kinda smell.”

a moment passes. the calm before the storm.

satoru blinks, barely registering shoko’s dry chuckle from behind him — and then furrows his eyebrows together like an irritated cat. a scandalized noise builds up at the base of his throat, and he glares at the man in front of him, frustration only growing when he notices that suguru isn’t returning the favour. his gaze is still fond, like an artist admiring a marble statue, drinking in his pouty boyfriend’s fluffy hair and droopy eyes and rosy lips. flattering, but the damage has been done.

”oh, i see how it is,” he withdraws his arms and takes a step back, crossing them with a hmph. ”bullying your sweet boyfriend first thing in the morning, huh? have you no shame?”

”sorry. you just look really bulliable today.”

another offended little noise. he turns on his heel, messy strands of hair swaying with the movement, glaring at shoko instead. ”unbelievable. and during women’s history month, too!”

”you aren’t a woman, satoru.”

”i could be.” 

you huff out a breathy laugh, taking a seat by the kitchen table while your lovers bicker. sipping from your cappuccino in silence, soaking up the mellow morning mood. until you feel satoru staring at you; eyes like marbles, big and bright, rich with mirth. his pout fades away, and he closes in on you with a smile. troubles forgotten. 

before you can greet him, he’s leaning down to leave a fat kiss on your forehead — messy, uncoordinated, but loving. a coo on the tip of his tongue. when he’s this close you can see his dimples, those tiny freckles that only come out in the light of the sun. 

you feel him smile against your skin, pulling back to speak. parting his pretty, glossy lips. ”and good morning to you, my dearest.”

he’s silly.

your lips bloom into a sweet grin, honeyed nectar on your teeth. he’s illuminated by the light streaming in through the window, a little disheveled, with his cute bedhead and bare chest exposed. a giggle slips from your lips, and your voice carries a melodic lilt, coming out as a soft croon. ”good morning, sunshine.”

satoru blinks. just once, before the telltale signs of his excitement start to show; his face brightening, breaking out into a cheshire grin, something sweet in the way his eyes crinkle. like folded origami, like messily cut fruit. citrusy and smooth.

before you can protest, those strong arms are reaching around your waist — hoisting you up into his arms with a coo of c’mere. he spins you around, just once or twice, and chuckles at the way you let out a sleepy yelp. even after stilling, he doesn’t put you down, only guiding your legs to wrap around his middle; his naked chest and muscles pressed flush against you. he’s warm, one large palm on your back and the other on your thigh. he touches you like it’s muscle memory, every ridge and dip, every part of you he’s already long mapped out. honestly, you don’t understand how he can get so excited this early in the morning.

but who are you to complain, when it means getting smothered like this? 

”oh, and i smell great, by the way,” he suddenly huffs, directed at the partners behind him. he’s quick to smile down at you, tilting his head and searching for approval. ”don’t i, baby?”

for a second, you’re tempted to join in on the teasing. some part of you wants to. unfortunately, it loses against the parts of you still mesmerized by the splotches of white inside his pretty eyes, those cute little freckles. so you nod.

”yeah,” you breathe. inhaling, taking him in, sunlight and strawberries and laundry detergent. ”you smell like spring.”

his smile continues to blossom, turning sweeter by the minute. brighter than the sun. he throws a victorious glance behind him, delighting in the simultaneous roll of their eyes — before finally putting you back down. he wastes no time in plopping down on the seat to your right, dragging your chair closer to his, until they’re pressed against each other. curling a leg around yours. so clingy in the morning. 

suguru and shoko are quick to join you. they blink slowly, sipping on their cups of espresso, a rich aroma spreading throughout the kitchen. it blends well with the plates of pancakes suguru scoots towards you, drizzled with the syrup satoru likes. he’s attentive, making sure you’re all comfortable, rising to his feet when shoko asks for a single cube of sugar. she’s started to mellow out a bit, no longer as grumpy, soothed by the bitter taste on her tongue. and satoru keeps your leg locked in place beneath the table.

it’s hard not to feel nostalgic, like this. when spring is blooming just outside your window, when all three of them are just the same as you remember. some things have changed, sure, but they’re still so unapologetically them. loud voices, rude eye-rolls, teasing comments and all.

they munch on their pancakes, sip on their coffee, and you chat about what to do when you all get home. what movie to watch, what food to order, what food to make because suguru doesn’t think you’ve been eating enough homemade meals lately. bickering and bantering. smiling.

(it feels like high school every day.)

shoko is the first to leave. she glances at the clock on the wall and stutters out a string of curse words, a mutter about being late. suguru plays dumb when she accuses him of not reminding her on purpose. she kisses you again, right under your jaw, and lets her clingy boyfriends give her one kiss each on the lips — despite her protests that they’ll mess up her lipstick. then she’s heading out.

”goodbye, doctor!” satoru calls, cheery even as your girlfriend rolls her pretty eyes.

”don’t call me that yet,” she snorts, adjusting her scarf. ”there’s still a good chance i’ll drop out. or cheat my way to a doctorate.”

so she says, but you all know her. you catch that glimmer of amusement in her eyes, something smug in the way she straightens her back. a little embarrassed, maybe. but the faith you have in her makes her glow.

then it’s satoru’s turn. he’s whinier, about it, ignoring the alarms on his phone on purpose. suguru has to bribe him, promising him kikufuku and take-out and an extra tight hug when he gets home. only then does he get up from his seat, untangling his leg with yours.

”do i have to?”

”yes, you do,” suguru tuts. ”the kids have an exam today. be responsible.”

another pout. but he listens, slipping on his sunglasses, putting on a coat and stealing a sip of your coffee that only makes him grimace. he has you both kiss the taste away, and you indulge him, because he’s silly and stupid and yours. 

and then it’s just you and suguru. he has a day off, and you don’t have to leave until later. the kitchen falls silent, back to a mellow morning rhythm, that quiet waltz of motions and sunshine. suguru pours you more coffee, gazing at you from across the table, and you thank him with a smile. he adjusts his glasses and flips through the morning newspaper; absently, you wonder if shoko and satoru would’ve teased him for it.

what the four of you have is an odd arrangement. but that’s what all of you are, anyway; a little odd. 

and as you sit there, serenaded by cicadas and morning birds, senses caressed by cappuccino foam and apricot blossoms and a hand holding yours over the table… you think to yourself that even if everything shattered around you — if the earth stopped spinning or the stars crashed through the roof of your apartment — you’d probably still keep on living. you’d do it, if only to continue chewing on these memories, these mornings, like savouring the faded flavour of an old piece of gum. over and over again, until you can’t tell where your teeth end and where the gum begins, so that you’ll always be able to taste it on your tongue. for the rest of your life.

it’s melodramatic, yes, but they are too. you’re sure suguru is pondering a sentiment even more dramatic, right now, even heavier with devotion. something so sappy you’d have to hide your face in your hands and beg him to stop talking. 

and, lo and behold, he suddenly speaks up. 

“are you happy?”

the question breaks you out of your silent stupor. you look up from your plate, his amber eyes already taking you in, drowning you in fondness. he’s smiling, and he’s looking at you like you’re spring personified. the silver of his lip piercing catches the light of the sun. a couple apricot petals are stuck in his hair, woven between his raven locks. 

you blink. inside your chest, something unfurls, twists and turns, grows and withers all at once. a whole garden of love, just for them.

you lean forward, elbows on the table, and brush through his bangs. petal caught between your fingertips. when you lean back, you’re smiling.

“yeah,” you answer, truthfully. inhaling the scent of spring. “i’m always happy when i’m with you.”

a breeze caresses your cheek, your hands, and the whole apartment smells of apricots. suguru seems pleased, returning to his cup of lukewarm coffee, a little clink of ceramic against porcelain that strikes you as distinctly heavenly.

soon, you’ll have to leave. you’ll have to manage without their jokes and banter and touches, without them, for a grueling number of hours, one tortuous lecture after another. but they’ll be waiting once you get back — and tomorrow, you’ll have breakfast again, just like this. forever and ever. you never want the coffee to run out, never want the apricot trees to wither. you want to stay greedy for a long time to come. 

and you’re sure they feel the same.

the sun lets her golden hair flow throughout the city, melting rivers and warming benches. she falls across shoko’s lecture hall, sneaks into satoru’s classroom, kisses her way up suguru’s neck. you let a sigh slip past your lips, and the sun breathes it in again. a vein of joy awoken, slumbering inside your veins; and you smile.

it’s springtime, now, a little warmer. 

(here’s to another year together.)

[oncomingnight]

Yandere! Artist

Lorenzo was an incredibly well-groomed man. Only ever wearing the best tailored suits, minimalistic patterned ties and perfectly polished loafers. His mindset and obsessive tendencies completely contradict his organized persona.

A vast array of his works are just murals and life-sized portraits of you. Never in his life has he seen such an undeniable beauty like you, the closest anyone else other than him will get to admiring you is on the canvas. The two of you will be at the opening of one of his exhibitions watching everyone stand and stare at his works of you, it's an odd feeling but it's nice to witness how extensive his love for you is.

It's not that rare of an occurrence for someone to approach the both of you in public and start the conversation off with:

"So, the man and woman of the hour!"

Lorenzo has several works of his that he'll never allow anyone see, he keeps them a secret from the public eye. These private crafts consist of ceramic forms of your naked body, he never creates them for sexual pleasure but more so to admire every little crease and mark on your body when you're not there with him. He's also not known for ceramics but rather paintings in the style of impressionism and realism.

He has a friend group filled with people that are involved in the art scene, like, poets, architects, film directors, song artists and other well known painters. His presence in the art scene is pretty prominent as he's had books and articles written about his work and the supposed meanings behind them. When other artists are being interviewed and the topic of inspirations is brought up, his name is dropped all of the time.

Lorenzo grew up on a farm in a little agricultural town. He got used to churning butter, helping his father determine which produce was ripe, cutting homegrown vegetables on a creaky wooden table. He enjoyed this upbringing as it prepared him to make his own meals with what he had and how to grow food the correct way. Now, as he moved away from the countryside and into an immensely populated city, he always drives downtown to the farmers' market to not only get a sense of home but to get his groceries in a reliable space.

His love languages are all five of them; quality time, words of affirmation, acts of service, receiving gifts and physical touch. During the most unexpected moments, he will place a framed portrait of you that he painted with the upmost attention in your hands. He will take you on a day-long trip to an area that you mindlessly mentioned of wanting to visit, taking you on a shopping spree to purchase anything you want and maybe he'll purchase an Italian leather jacket for himself.

Lorenzo really enjoys reading books but the genres he favors the most are philosophy, auto-biographies and (art) history.

He is an incredibly classy and proper man so when it comes to confronting somebody, he uses knowledge and soft insults to shoot them down. The two of you were at an opera that Lorenzo had dragged you to, and when a singer that was previously flirting with you walked on stage, he couldn't hide his disdain for the man. Lorenzo began critiquing their shrilling voice and off-key notes

"Isn't he supposed to be an alto? He's practically yelling as if it's spring break and he's a school boy." "Rossini didn't compose it that way, why did they alter it?" "My goodness, we should've never came, come, let's leave."

He can be a bit petty but there's no limits to the things he'd do for you.

[yuujispinkhair]

Wildest Dreams

You're supposed to write an article about a charity event at The Shrine, the casino of the Itadori family, but soon get swept away by the Yakuza Prince himself. It's probably a bad idea to get close to a dangerous man like him, but he's so tall and handsome as hell. Why not allow yourself to live your wildest dream, at least for one night? -> This is part of my Blog Anniversary Event (closed). @cometcoffee103 requested the song Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift for Yakuza!Yuuji.

Pairing: Yakuza Prince!Yuuji x Reader (female) Genre: fluff + smut, Yakuza AU Word Count: 2k Warnings: 18+, a bit of smut (not very explicit), taking pictures during sex, mentions of alcohol, mentions of organized crime. This story is set in the same universe as my Yakuza AU, but you don't have to read that to understand this story. All you need to know is that Yuuji is the younger brother of the Yakuza King Sukuna, and this version of Yuuji is a bit of a playboy, but in a very sweet and charming way ;) All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

The casino is bustling with people, all of them dressed to the nines, including you. But you feel out of place here, despite the nice dress you are wearing and the red lipstick you put on. Everyone around you is someone important, someone insanely rich or influential, politicians, actors, businessmen. And Yakuza.

You gulp hard. Your hand trembles a little as you bring your wine glass to your lips to take a small sip. You shouldn't even be here. You usually only write short lifestyle articles for your magazine. It was your boss' job to attend the charity event in The Shrine, the biggest casino in the whole city, the casino of the Itadori family, one of the most powerful Yakuza clans in the country.

But two hours ago, you received that fateful message: "Put on your nicest dress and hurry to The Shrine. I'm at the hospital and can't make it. I need you to write the article about the charity event. And try to add something personal about the Itadori brothers! That will get our readers hooked."

And so you are standing here, clutching your wine glass while trying to blend in with the millionaires around you, feeling the hairs on your arms stand up as you wonder how many of them are criminals.

You don't even see him coming until he is right in front of you, moving gracefully like a tiger. A broad smile lifts his lips, and golden eyes meet yours.

"Hey, don't you like the wine? Should I get you another drink?"

You take in a sharp breath. You know the man in front of you. Of course you do. 

Itadori Yuuji, with his pink hair and golden eyes. Tall and muscular in his tailored black suit with a pink dress shirt and black tie. Looking just as rich as he truly is with the diamonds sparkling in his ears and the gold rings on every finger. But the scars on his handsome face also tell a story about the other life he is living. His life in Tokyo's underworld.

He is one of the people you got sent here for. The Young Tiger. The Yakuza Prince.

Your heart flutters nervously. But you force yourself to get a grip and be professional. And so you clear your throat before smiling politely at him and shaking your head,

"No, thank you. The wine is perfect, Mr Itadori."

He blinks and then throws his head back and laughs heartily.

"Ahh, please don't call me that! I am Yuuji for someone as cute as you."

Oh?

For a moment, you are caught off guard by his directness and the shameless flirting. But the Itadori charm is well-known. Both Itadori brothers are infamous for being big flirts and playboys who collect women just like they collect fast cars and expensive jewelry.

He points at the press card dangling on a chain around your neck,

"You're here to write about the charity event? How lucky that you ran into me! I can tell you everything you want to know. Come with me!"

You hastily follow him, not daring to waste this chance to get the article your boss demanded from you. And also not daring to turn down the Yakuza Prince's offer.

You spend the next fifteen minutes in a fancy VIP booth while Yuuji answers your questions for your article. Though half of the time, he is blatantly flirting with you. He isn't shy about it. Clearly, a man used to always getting what he wants. The spoiled Prince of Tokyo's underworld.

But you have to admit that his boyish charm works on you. Somehow, his loud laugh and broad sunshine smile make him seem less intimidating than his name suggests. If you didn't know who he was, you wouldn't even be nervous around him. He is so sweet somehow, making you laugh and feel more at ease at this event where you feel so out of place.

And his good looks certainly work their charm on you, too. He looks dashing in his suit, which accentuates all his firm muscles. The undercut and the pink hair on top look sexy on him. You realize that you have unconsciously scooted closer to him.

His golden eyes look thoughtfully at you, making your heart jump. 

"You don't look like you enjoy this event very much. I hate these things, too. All those boring people who try to talk business with me, and no one dares say something funny. I don't know how Sukuna is able to endure this all the time."

He sighs and rolls his pretty eyes. The eyes that then land on the low neckline of your dress. His smile grows bigger, and your breath quickens. Yuuji's large, warm hand lands on yours, giving it a squeeze.

"Hey, cutie, let's leave this boring party, ok? Let's drive out of the city, away from the crowds. We can have some fun, and you can get an exclusive interview with the Yakuza Prince! Not just boring facts about this event, but more personal things. How does that sound?"

Everything in you screams to say no. It's insane to leave with the Yakuza Prince. He might not be as dangerous as his big brother Sukuna, but he is still a powerful Yakuza who can easily kill someone, as the scars on his pretty face prove. It's crazy to imagine getting in his car and driving to an unknown place with him. It's wild to imagine being alone with him.

But somehow, you find yourself biting your lip and nodding as you lift your head to look up at his handsome face. Somehow, your heart is beating so fast that you feel dizzy. Somehow, your skin tingles with excitement. You know you want to go with him. Even though you know there is a high chance this is going to take you down, you can't bring yourself to say no.

And so the words leave your mouth,

"Ok, let's go. Let's sneak away."

Yuuji smiles his bright sunshine smile at you, just as dazzling as the diamonds sparkling in his ears and the various gold rings on his fingers. There's a cheeky glint in his golden eyes,

"I'm very good at sneaking away."

He grabs your hand and pulls you with him, striding with fast steps through his casino, and starts running when you're halfway out the door, laughing loudly, as if he is relieved too to finally leave this fancy event behind. As if he is finally free.

He leads you to his car, a red Porsche, his favorite one, as he lets you know while he holds open the door for you, so charming that you can't help but feel light-headed from all the butterflies in your stomach.

Yuuji drives like someone who knows this city belongs to him. A bit too fast, the music a bit too loud, but it's perfect the way it is. It makes your pulse flutter and your body fill with a giddiness you can't remember ever feeling before.

You leave the city behind you, making an excited tingle start under your skin and spreading through your whole body. It feels like an adventure. Exciting, bubbly. As if your wildest dreams are coming true.

Yuuji parks his car on top of a cliff, turns off the engine, and turns to you with his big sunshine smile.

"So, what are your questions for me, princess?"

You laugh softly,

"Well, my boss said I should try to add something personal about you or your brother. Why don't you tell me a bit about yourself? Not about the Yakuza Prince. Tell me about Yuuji."

He smiles and leans closer to you, his large hand cupping your cheek while his golden eyes travel slowly over your face. His thumb caresses your cheek, the gold ring on it gliding smoothly over your skin. Yuuji's voice is low, and you can hear the smile in it,

"Then let me tell you a secret. I hate all those stiff, formal events. I rather want to go clubbing or play video games with my friends. I enjoy spending time at my pachinkos and making my best friend Megumi play the arcade games against me, even though I know I suck at those games. And I like to hang out at my pizza delivery service. I don't care that it's only for ... tax-saving purposes. I love pizza! I want to adjust the recipes and make the best pizza in the whole city! That is my new passion!"

His eyes glitter excitedly while his voice drops to a softer tone, low and almost seductive,

"And I like this here. What we are doing right now. Drive out of the city and look at the sunset. I know I can see it from my penthouse, too, but it's not the same."

His words could sound arrogant, the words of someone who grew up rich and has no idea how normal life works. But he doesn't sound like that. There's an almost melancholic tone to his low voice. As if this evening with you, where he ran from his obligations and the glittering fancy party, is his wildest dream, too.

A soft smile lifts your lips, and you catch yourself leaning into his large, warm hand as you look deeply into those gorgeous golden eyes,

"Then let's stop this stupid interview and just enjoy your free evening."

His answer is a broad, boyish grin that makes your stomach flutter. You chuckle when Yuuji leaves the car and comes over to your side, opening the door for you like a gentleman and offering his hand to lead you to the fence at the end of the cliff, where you have a majestic view over the ocean and the beginning of a beautiful sunset.

But your gaze strays to the man next to you. The Yakuza Prince. Or out here, just Yuuji.

You look at him, at his side profile, hit once again by how good he looks. So tall and handsome as hell in his tailored black suit with the light pink dress shirt and black tie. More stunning than any sunset could ever be.

Yuuji turns his head, catching you staring at him, and laughs happily as he reaches out to wrap a strong arm around you and pull you in front of him, making your pulse flutter with how easily he can manhandle you.

He stands behind you, so tall and strong, his muscular arms wrapped around you, holding you safely, his body pressed against your back, warm and buff. You can feel his firm muscles and smell his sexy and expensive perfume.

Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his kisses on your neck.

You tilt your head back to rest against Yuuji's shoulder as you look up at him and are met with a smile even more beautiful than the sunset.

A warm, large hand cups your chin, and then soft lips capture yours in a slow, sexy kiss that makes your knees weak. Who would have thought that the Yakuza Prince would be so gentle when he kisses you for the first time?

You have no idea how long you kiss him. You get lost in the feeling of his warm lips on yours and his tongue caressing yours with those deep, sexy flicks. Your hand is tangled in his pink hair as if you don't ever want to let him go again.

The two of you only pull apart to watch the rest of the sunset, with Yuuji's arm around you as you lean against his strong body, unable to stop smiling while your pulse races and your heart hammers in your chest, your skin tingling all over from the sheer craziness and excitement of it all.

+++

"Do you want to spend the rest of the night with me?"

Your heart misses a beat at Yuuji's question. You feel dizzy when you turn around in his arms to look up at his handsome face.

The deep scars across his nose and on the side of his lips tell you about the dangerous life he leads. His title tells you about how dangerous he himself is. You know he is bad, so so bad. But you cannot bring yourself to turn him down when he smiles that big smile at you. You cannot say no to him when every fiber of you craves him, if only for one night.

And so you nod and place a hand on his broad chest, playing with his black tie as you breathe softly,

"Yes, I can't think of anything else I would rather do."

And he smiles that attractive boyish smile at you and leans down to kiss the corner of your lips,

"I will always remember this evening. The pretty sunset, with an even prettier girl. You in that dress, with your red lipstick and the sweet kisses. Please tell me you'll always remember it, too."

You nod happily before cupping his cheeks with your hands and getting on your tiptoes to kiss him again, breathless and passionate, before whispering against his lips,

"Say you'll see me again after tonight, Yuuji."

And his arms tighten around you, strong and muscular, and he nods,

"Of course I will."

You don't hesitate when he leads you back to his car and holds the door open for you. You smile when his large hand lands on your thigh on the drive back to the city, slipping under your dress to caress your inner thigh, dangerously close to your already-soaked panties, making your heart beat wildly as you grab the leather seat. 

You giggle breathlessly when he leans over and kisses you at a red light, making your head spin with the sexy flicks of his tongue before he pulls away again.

You eagerly say yes when he asks if he can accompany you to your apartment. Your dress is already halfway off by the time you manage to unlock your door in between passionate kisses.

You moan when Yuuji's large hands knead your ass and his warm lips suck on your neck. You palm the hard bulge in the Yakuza Prince's fine suit pants all too happily, gasping at how big and hot he feels. You leave a trail of clothes on your floor, leading to your bed, where you spend the best night of your life.

Ruffled sheets, the rhythmic beating of your heart in synch with the headboard banging against the wall. Yuuji's heavy body on top of you, pressing you down so deliciously into your sheets. Loud laughter, even louder moans, and dirty whispers in your ear. Kisses and lipstick marks all over his tan skin. His clothes on your bedroom floor, your hands in his pink hair. Every inch of you brimming with pleasure while you're tangled up with Yuuji's strong body all night, finding utter bliss on his sweet mouth and his gorgeous cock. Smiling when he asks you to please let him take a picture of you while you ride him.

Tomorrow morning, he will leave, get in his sportscar, drive back to his fancy penthouse, and continue to live his fast life as the Prince of Tokyo's underworld. You don't know if this will only be one night and you'll never stand before him in person again after this. But you know you both will always remember this night.

And you will see him again, even if it's just in your wildest dreams.

AAAHHHHH thank you so much for this prompt, babe!!! I was so happy to write for Yakuza Prince Yuuji again aaaahhh!! I am crushing so much on him all over again omgggg 💗💗💗 I NEED HIM BAD!!!

I hope you liked staring at the sunset and staring at sexy Yuuji ;) Please let me know what you think!

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

[shuugumi]

ex-husband! gojo satoru has two left feet. whether he's on the dance floor at a wedding or a party or even during living room dance parties his dance moves are a unique blend of awkwardness and enthusiasm.

your daughter has also seemed to take after her father's genes of the two left feet. you watch from your assigned table the two hand in hand trying to moonwalk on the dancefloor. the two of them acting like seasoned dancers on dancing with the stars until satoru takes a few steps back and loses his balance. stumbling himself although in utter surprise his daughter helps him sturdy himself.

you watch the two dance on the dance floor as you take sips of water from the assigned seating you were sat at. giggling and smiling away at the two having fun and enjoying themselves.

“he’s cute isn’t he?” one of the guests at the wedding blurted out to you as she sat down next to you in satoru’s seat. you nod, “he is, isn’t he..” you trail off, looking back onto the dancefloor to seeing satoru holding kara in his hands, bouncing away to the hip-hop song playing.

it warmed your heart.

you’ve never had days like this. seeing satoru so care free and enjoying himself. enjoying not worrying about being ready to save a person from evil curses. satoru wore his sunglasses along with a perfectly tailored black suit; white button down shirt that hugged his biceps so deliciously.

you were too in thought to notice them waving at you. “daddy!!” kara shouted after she was startled by satoru showering her with kisses all over her face, using her small but growing hands to push away the love bombing father.

“daddy? is that his child?” the woman asked and you looked back over to her, “mhm…that’s our child. we’re divorced though.” you answered and the womans face was in awed. “divorced? how could you divorce that hunk?” she exclaimed and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“if only you knew..” you trail off, chuckling at the past memories that flashed through your mind that until the DJ had announced for all the couples to fall into the dance floor with their partners.

“you don’t mind if i ask him for a dance?” the woman asked and you shook your head, “not at all, go ahead!” sparking with a smile the woman walks towards satoru and kara. the woman talking to satoru and you watch. that until your daughter comes running up to you.

“hey lovey! you and dad having fun?” you giggle as kara runs into your legs and you pat her on the back. “so much fun! i love when we all together!” kara exclaims as you bring her up to sit on your lap.

“may i have this dance?” his voice was, serious. determined that he would have this dance. you looked up to seeing satoru standing in front of you with his hand out. a light smile appearing on his face.

“me?”

“of course. it’ll be like when we got married…for old times sakes.” he says, gesturing his hand out again and you were hesitant. “go mama! dance with daddy!” kara commanded, satoru and you laughed. swiftly grabbing his hand after and putting kara in place of you on your seat.

“stay there my love.” planting a kiss on kara’s head, satoru guides you to the outter part of the dance floor so that the two of you would still be in close presence to kara in case anything happened.

endlessly by alina baraz had started playing. your heart started to accelerate, feeling warm memories of your own wedding day. satoru snaked his arms around your waist and subconsciously your arms found a way around his neck.

it was quite for a little. “this song played at our wedding too. it was our first dance song if i remember correctly.” satoru spoke, breaking the silence and you nervously look up to his crystal eyes. “you…remember?”

satoru chuckled before tightening his grip on your waist, “how could i not? i got married to the love of my life…”

blood rushed to the apples of your cheeks as you thought about everything that satoru had been through and the reason why you divorced him. it made you feel…sad and sefish. bringing your body closer to him, resting your face on his chest he also finds a resting spot in the crook of your neck.

“i am sorry satoru.” you utter into his suit as the you both swayed in unison to the next slow song that had been queued. “i still have you in my arms even if we aren’t together…i got a beautiful daughter out of it. don’t gotta be sorry for anything.”

it was quite as you two embraced each other. swaying on the moonlit dance floor as the playlist of slow love songs continued to play. moments like these made you long for these experiences once more but you knew it couldn’t always be like this.

at the end of the day, satoru and you still love each other deeply even if there are still unspoken and unresolved problems that hinder your relationship to ever being what it once was. you still find yourself slipping on the engagement ring satoru presented to you all those years ago before going to bed. and satoru finds himself always, slipping on his wedding band no matter where he goes.

“why didn’t you agree to dance with that other attractive woman? she was into you y’know…”

“cuz i didn’t want to dance with her. i wanted to dance with you dummy. stop trying to be a wingwoman, i only ever want you.”

[stellar-skyy]

Could I order a hot white tea for Aventurine? If you can also add angst to confort please 👀

“order up! i have a white tea for aventurine, fresh and hot!”

☆ — if you're craving a drink, make sure to stop by the teashop!

i. SUMMARY: At a work event, your coworker offers you a dance. ii. CWS & NOTES: no warnings applicable. aventurine x gn!reader. reader & aven are coworkers. mild angst & fluff. 1.6k words. iii. A/N: thank you for the order! i hope you enjoy!

It wasn’t their plan to hide in the corner all night, but it was where they ended up; drink clutched in both hands, shoulders hunched tightly, and eyes cast to the floor. All around them, their colleagues and fellow members of the Interastral Peace Corporation mingled and danced, filling the night with a dull drone of chatter and laughter. Around the groups and pairs scattered across the hall, were those few idly loitering on the outskirts like shadows, themself included.

They could busy themself for a while pretending to survey the hors d'oeuvres arranged on the table, but soon enough they would catch someone’s attention. Then would come the questions of why they were avoiding people, and the feeble attempts to drag them into a conversation they had far too little energy to engage in.

A charity ball, organized by their colleagues and funded by the ICP themselves. It seemed like a perfect idea when it was pitched, all up until they were standing alone in a crowded room, trapped in layers of formalwear the dug into their sides. The festivities grew all too much after a while, leaving them exhausted and weary of every greeting and smile.

It was much easier to turn their back on the other guests and ignore them for however long they could manage. That way, they weren’t forced into mindless small talk, or dragged into a half-hearted dance with any of their coworkers. They were fully content on spending the rest of their evening on the sidelines alone, without anyone to disturb their—

“Ahem.”

Peace.

The voice tore straight through their attempt to sink into the background, silky smooth and laced with the slightest trace of amusement. They lifted their head up, hands tightening around the drink in their hands and lips forming his name before they even had to look at him.

“Aventurine.”

The man smiled. He was dressed much more formal than usual, decked out in a three-piece suit with a deep green tie. It was tailored, cut and shaped around each part of his body to fit him perfectly. The outfit was simple, but it suited him well; even in a room of people dressed in their finest, he managed to outshine every one of them.

“You’re certainly hidden well, aren’t you?” Aventurine remarked, plucking a canapé off the table beside them and popping it into his mouth. “How long have you been here? An hour? Two?”

“I wasn’t hiding—” They tried to say, before they were cut off with a laugh.

“You can lie, but not well enough to fool me.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t make excuses. I really don’t care that much.”

The music changed suddenly, turning from a light jazz to a slower tune, complete with sweeping violins and deep echoes of a cello. Like clockwork, the few folks dancing in the centre paired up—both actual couples who had attended together, and coworkers who hurriedly joined together in time for the song to start.

Aventurine cleared his throat again. When they turned to him, there was a look in his eye that told them he was planning something.

“I did have something I wanted to ask, however. May I have this dance?” he asked with a small smile, hand outstretched.

They bit back any retort that might have been on their tongue, as he stood waiting their response with a glint in his eye. It was a challenge, like everything was with him; a bet to whether their pride outweighed their self-consciousness. They could almost see the dice rolling behind his eyes, breath held in anticipation.

If it was a game he was playing, they would be happy to indulge him, if only for an evening. It wasn’t as though they had anything else to do, other than waiting idly in the corner for the music to die down and the guests to leave. They could spare whatever was left of their energy for a few minutes of dancing.

“Of course,” they said, taking his hand. A look of surprise crossed his face for only a moment before it was replaced with a wider grin.

“Ah, I knew I came over here to a reason,” Aventurine smiled, leading them away from the corner and into the lights.

They were uncomfortably aware of each eye fixed on their back, but Aventurine was unfazed; his hand was firm in holding onto theirs in a surprisingly gentle grip. His gloved thumb softly stroked the side of their hand, a move that was much too close to romantic for their liking.

“Are you ready?” he asked, when they reached the floor.

“Yes,” they said instantly, and hoped it wasn’t a lie.

He laced his fingers through their hand, sliding his other over their hips. A heat flushed across their face—the result of the stuffiness inside the venue, no doubt—and they fumbled to place their hand on his shoulder.

“You act like you’ve never danced before,” he laughed.

The music swelled, and Aventurine began to lead their dance. One step, then two and three. He was surprisingly adept at sweeping them across the floor, out of the way of the rest of the dancers, while keeping up their pace.

Together they twirled and spun, in time as the music sung a chorus for them and them only. The rest of the guests faded away, until the two of them were alone on the dancefloor, held tightly in each other’s arms. It crossed their mind, for a moment, that the scene was something more suited to a couple than a pair like them. They wondered if he was thinking the same, whether he thought it odd that they were so close. Was he regretting his choice of dance partner, or feeling thankful he asked them?

They found themself glancing around them throughout, but oddly enough Aventurine’s eyes never left them. He seemed transfixed, watching them carefully as they seemed to melt into the dance.

“Are you ready?” He asked abruptly, just as the music reached a crescendo.

“What?”

“Are you ready?” He repeated in lieu of an explanation.

“Ready for wh—” they tried to ask, but were suddenly pulled into a spin. He let go of their waist, long enough to twirl them around as they squeaked in surprise. Their head was reeling by the time he pulled them back, holding them even tighter so they didn’t fall over.

“Ready to be spun,” he clarified, a moment too late.

“Yeah,” they breathed, hand clinging tightly to his shoulder to balance themself. “Yeah… I got that, now.”

The two of them whirled and spun for some time more—was it minutes? Hours? It was long enough for the music to change again, into an equally slow but slightly more melancholy song—before he spoke up again.

“You’re not a fan of dancing?” Aventurine asked, an eyebrow raised. The question was posed in his usual lilting voice, but there was a note of concern in his tone that wasn’t present in the moments before.

“Why do you ask?”

Aventurine paused to spin them past another dancing couple—a woman who was giggling far too loudly, and a man who seemed like he would rather be anywhere else—before continuing. “Well, for starters you haven’t made eye contact with me for more than a few seconds this entire time. You keep looking down at your feet.”

The music swelled. Aventurine abruptly pulled them into a low dip, leaning down so their faces were close enough that they could taste his breath. Their heartrate spiked, loud enough to drown out the music, but not enough to mask Aventurine’s voice.

“Is something wrong, [Name]?” He whispered into their lips, and all of a sudden they couldn’t breathe.

Not while you’re here was their first thought, but it was something far too raw to speak out loud, and only a half-truth. Aventurine’s presence had managed to quell some of the discomfort eating away at their stomach, but he was only a pretty distraction to the uneasiness that threatened to sweep them off their feet in the worst way. It whittled away at their already cracked mask of indifference, leaving them desperately holding the pieces together.

The eyes were still there, watching. They tracked their every move, noting each way they tilted further into his body to shield themself from their sight. He noticed too, pulling them up and out of the dip and turning them away from the people staring.

“Can we just go?” They whispered hollowly. He blinked, seeming to be caught off guard by the defeat in their voice. The shift in his demeanour was immediate, like a switch had been flipped.

“Of course, let’s—” Aventurine cleared his throat, standing straighter. “Let’s go.”

His hand rested on their lower back, guiding them out of the ballroom. The eyes never left, but Aventurine met them with a glare, and slowly they turned their gaze.

 “After you,” he said, opening the wide doors and beckoning them through. And in the open air, they remembered to breathe. “Now, is something the matter?”

They shifted in their steps, tugging on the edge of their sleeves. Was something the matter? It was a perfectly reasonable question, especially since they dragged him out of the event so suddenly, but they were at a loss for an answer.

“I don’t know. I just—” They let out a shuddering breath. “I just wanted to leave.”

Aventurine hummed. “I suppose that’s something enough.”

“I’m sorry,” they whispered.

“No apologising,” he chided, flicking them lightly on their arm. “You can’t be expected to want to be social at every moment. It’s not like I was inclined to spend my entire evening talking to my coworkers.” He shook his head. “Let yourself breathe once in a while, okay?”

“…I guess.”

“Come on. Let me walk you home.”

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

[redbleedingrose]

What do the batboys do for hobbies in your opinion

Hobbies for Bat Boys!

Rhysand

Okay so to be honest, I feel like Rhys is constantly stressed out being high lord and having to make all these heavy decisions, so his hobby would be something super relaxing and something you wouldn't expect.

First off, Rhysie is such a fashionista, just like his mother. He is absolutely going out with you to pick out all your outfits for the season. You are probably the best dressed female in Pyrthian and it is all because of him. He goes out of his way to custom design outfits for you, often playing a role in hand tailoring dresses that don't fit you perfectly so that it fits you like a sleeve. He knows different styles that look amazing on you, even when you don't think so. All the ladies of Valeris follow your fashion sense, not knowing that it is actually Rhys who is the trend setter for the night court.

Okay, this is kinda out there, but!!! I feel like Rhys would also just love flipping homes. He didn't realize this until after the attack on Valeris, but when he began to help with rebuilding the homes that were destroyed, he realized how much he enjoys the intricacies of designing a home, and surprisingly, he loves the handiwork of it too. Maybe it is the Illyrian in him that finds satisfaction in building something from the ground up. Once the homes of Valeris are rebuilt, he is really bored and can't figure out why until he decides to create a vacation home for just the two of you, and then he realizes what he has been missing out on. Now, he likes to build vacation homes for you and your future children and grandchildren from the ground up.

Cassian

For our daddy Cassian, I think he would pull a fast one on you and be really good at baking. You would think for a big, burly, hunk of a male he would be into wrestling or training as a hobby, but I think he sees it as more-so a job than a hobby. It comes to him when its nearing your birthday, and he is tearing the house apart to find the old recipe book his mother used to create birthday cakes for him when he was just a babe. Finally, he finds it with all these recipes that have tiny handwritten changes inked into the pages, and he realizes that his mum poured her love into her cooking and baking. So he tries to do that for you. Because he loves you more than he can possibly describe. So he bakes a five tiered black forrest cherry cake, with marachino cherries he hand picked from Summer Court (which he had to sneak into and out of with the help of a certain spymaster) and fudge imported from the Autumn Court. It turns out to be the best cake you and he have ever eaten, and thus begins his journey as a home baker. Cass becomes extremely good at making pies, cakes, and macrons. He never shows up to a family dinner without some form of dessert. At this point, even Elain can't complain because the sweets he brings are just too good.

Another hobby that I think Cass would have would be going to nursing homes or daycares where he can interact with the elderly and little babes. He always brings a dessert in tow that has the children literally climbing on top of him. He listens to the stories that the elderly have for him, taking note of all the lessons that he learns from them about love and life, sometimes sharing the stories with you in the deep of night like the little gossip he is. And he likes to play games with all the little babes, encouraging them to join him outside so they can play hide and seek in the woods behind the daycare. Sometimes you tag along because the babes love story time with you, complaining that Cass doesn't show the drawings for long enough like you do.

Azriel

The shadowsinger is indeed a singer.

He spends a lot of time in his private office with you lounging on the couch nearby reading, taking the time to develop different song lyrics and hymns for you. It is the one thing that he inherited from his father that he is willing to accept, is his musical creativity. He likes to collect different musical instruments and uses them to create different toons that he will only ever play for you. Sometimes he puts on one male shows just for you, playing the piano while softly singing you a song that he wrote with you in mind. He could spend hours trying to figure out the different keys and notes that he can achieve just to formulate something that might put into words how he feels about you.

I think Az is also the kind of male who is really interested in learning dead languages. He would find this ancient book in the libraries beneath the the House of Wind, and could spend days if you let him, trying to decode the meaning of the books. He likes the phenotics and analyzing different poetry and trying to make sense of what fae in the past felt and thought.

To expand on the last point, Azzie is def the history buff of the bat boys. He loves learning about the history wars and times of depression in the past, and how the world came together to make something better. You think that he thinks it brings him hope, and teaches him lessons that he can't get from anywhere else. He tries to apply them as spymaster of the night court.

Plus his reading glasses make him look incredibly sexy so you aren't complaining.

Masterlist

What do we think the hobbies are for the Vanserra bros?

[the-common-cowgirl]

Greater of Two Evils - Part 5

Summary: Reader returns to her childhood home only to move to a new home the next day. How will she cope?

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Dark! Modern Aemond x Fem!Reader

Warnings: DUBCON to Consensual, AFAB reader, Smut (p in v, oral sex f&m receiving, orgasm denial, teasing, creampie, Dom vibes, choking, food play?), verbal arguments, cursing, tension, feelings of anxiety, feelings of hate, manipulation, Aemond not being a total jerk at the end? Lmk if there’s any I missed!

Word Count: 4790

A/N: This was split off of part 4, then I added some smut. Enjoy!

Masterlist

Your childhood bed was warm and stiffer than you remembered but you slept well regardless. Something about being home, being safe, surrounded by familiar smells and sounds, allowed you to fully rest, but now, the sun had long since risen and it was time for a nostalgic breakfast. 

Pulling on some pajama shorts and a crewneck sweatshirt, you drug your sleepy self from bed, lumbering down the steps to the living room, rubbing your eyes. The smell of bacon permeated through the small cottage home  and as you neared the bottom of the steps, you heard your mother call your name from the kitchen as she had when you were growing up when breakfast was early ready; allotting you time to get out of bed and get downstairs before the food went cold. 

Sleep wouldn’t quite leave your eyes and you reached up to rub the drowsiness from them with your sweatshirt sleeve, yawning. Your mother scolded you lightly, “Dear, we have company, you should go upstairs and change-”

Your arm dropped from your face quickly to find that evading your nightmares wasn't an option in this personal hell of a life you were sentenced to. 

Silver hair. Eye-patch. Finely tailored suit.

Maybe that song your dad used to sing in the back garden was right, maybe the devil does in fact wear a suit and tie. 

“What are you doing here?” Your voice is flat and devoid of fear despite the fact you very much were filled to the brim with it. Maybe anger at him invading such a sacred place of yours took precedent… finally.

Your mom turned around with a hand on her hip, “That’s no way to speak to your-”

Aemond raised his hand, silencing your mother with a soft smile. The action made you nauseous; no one silences your mother so easily. “Please, it’s alright.” He turned to you, “I came here to meet your parents and ask formally, this time, for your hand in marriage.”

Your eyes widened and you looked at your mom. She shook her head with a sweet smile, “Honey, if you were running here because you were scared of marriage, you should have thought of that before you got pregnant. Now here, Mr. Targaryen is trying to make things right.”

‘Trying to make things right’ felt like a stab in the gut, fueled by betrayal. 

“Mom I-”

Aemond cut you off, “Perhaps we can speak alone?” He looks over to your mother with the smile of a snake and she returns it, mayhaps without the reptilian features. 

“Of course, I’ll be out in the back garden with your father,” she tells you before she wipes her hands on her apron and exits the room. 

You stare at Aemond as he stares back at you with his lone eye. He hears the backdoor open and shut before he speaks. “I told you to stay.”

You pull up a chair opposite of him. “Like a dog,” you bite back. “What did you tell my parents?”

A sly smirk pulls at his lips, “I think you understand the predicament we’re in.” He leans back, grabbing his teacup and bringing it to his lips, “your mother loves me by the way.” He sips, smiling like a Cheshire cat, lone eye studying his prey.

“She also prefers my brother over me so I’d take her approval with a grain of salt.”

He frowns slightly, bringing the cup back down to the table. “They know the baby is mine and they know I am planning on taking care of you, and it, financially.” His eye flickers up to you triumphantly, “And they also know that I proposed to you, my girlfriend of three years and you had your doubts and came to see them.”

You narrowed your eyes, “You told them we have been a couple for three years and they believed you?”

Aemond smirked, shrugging lazily. “Apparently you do not talk to your parents enough for them to know much about you.”

Anger rose within you, making you begin to sweat with loathing. How did Aemond seem to get away with every little thing? It was like he walked and the grass parted a path for him. He seemed untouchable; making your cause seem hopeless.

“Go upstairs and pack, we’re leaving.” HIs command was stern with no room for contest.

You shook your head despite this, “I’m not going with you. No.”

Aemond stood from the table slowly, towering over you. His hand snaked down reverently from the top of your hair, along your cheekbone, landing beneath your chin and pulled your face up to look at him. “I’ve done things in a quite unorthodox matter at the beginning of this relationship-”

“This isn’t a relationship.”

He barely contained a sneer, you felt the anger boiling just underneath his skin but he kept it from burning you…surprisingly. “Whatever you want to call it- relationship, understanding-”

“Containment-” you cut.

“-whatever,” his voice raised slightly, “you may call it.” He returned to his false softened hum, “I believe I can do better by you and our child. You have to give me that chance.”

Your eyes met his lone blue and you knew you had no choice….for now.

“Okay.”

He looked half shocked, probably suspecting more of a fight. “Okay? Okay. Yes,” he pulled his hand from you. “I will arrange for us to leave immediately. Go upstairs and pack what you need.”

You stood from the table, “All of my essentials are in Sunspear.”

Aemond pulled out his phone, bringing it to his ear. “Well, we aren’t going back to Sunspear so I’ll just buy new essentials unless anything cannot be replaced.”

You looked at him in confusion, “Where are we going then?”

Someone on the other end of the line began speaking so he mouthed what looked like ‘King’s Landing’ before he started barking orders into the phone.

Kings Landing.

The drive to the Crownlands took a few hours and every bit of that time was spent with Aemond on the phone, rearranging your life, unenrolling you from your college, and closing your account at your bank in Sunspear. With every call, you started to grow more and more anxious.

How is he able to do all of these things without my permission or consent?

At the final call, the one where he closed out your membership to the student credit union, he looked over at you. “We are close to my estate now.”

You remained staring out the back door’s window, ���How were you able to do all of that without my permission?”

The car slowed and began to turn, Aemond leaned up to the driver, mumbling the code to the driveway gates. Once he leaned back, he looked sideways to you, “I thought you were well aware I had plenty of connections.”

A pit grew in your stomach as you drove through the gates of the estate. A large, white stone home sat proudly in the nicest part of King’s Landing; the homebase of Westeros’ rich, powerful and corrupt. A tall hedge bush ran along the property lines, behind it, you could see glimpses of an iron-wrought fence at least twelve feet high. Physically, there would be no escaping the property.

The car parked beneath the carport at the very front of the house, Aemond opened the door and exited his side, you followed; pulling the handle and exiting. Aemond rounded the car, grabbing your arm a little too harshly and leaning in next to your ear. “We are to be married soon, wait for me to open the door.”

His harsh scolding gave you chills as he pulled back from you with a smile as if nothing had happened. “Allow me to show you the manor.”

Red roses adorned the foundation of the home and when you stepped inside, the floors were marble. Nothing was out of place, everything was extravagant and lavish. Aemond had walked you through the entire first floor (where a butler or maid was scattered purposefully about every three rooms) before leading you upstairs. You had hoped the second floor didn’t have another random person who would pop out from behind a plant or tall vase just to add to your embarrassment as you were paraded through the home as its new captive; fortunately, there were none. 

Aemond led you to a set of double doors, pushing a single open and leading you through gently. “This is our room,” he stated plainly as day. 

You shook your head, “No. I want my own room.”

He fixed you with a look that scorched your skin. “Absolutely not.”

So you used his own logic against him with the words ‘be a river’ giving you the courage to do so. “Aemond,” you reasoned lightly, lighter than natural for you, “I uh, don’t want to assume anything but to my understanding… you want the image of a perfect life.”

His brow furrowed, immediately with shock and before it could resolve to anger, you spoke again.

“I see the white house, the roses, the perfectly manicured yard. I saw the butlers and maids downstairs alongside the decorations that I wouldn’t particularly attribute to your style - not that I know your style, we are just strangers whom you’ve decided should conceive-”

Aemond snorted, anger clearly beginning to rise within him but you continued on.

“I also saw the Seven Pointed Star several times throughout my tour. Decorations…books… and I know that’s the predominant religion of Westeros. You being a politician and all, I’m sure you want to look the part, even if you don’t believe in it, I can almost guarantee you don’t.”

“I do,” he retorted.

You smiled, taking a step toward him, “Interesting.” He looked at you with a thin veil of confusion. “Anyway, what I’m getting at is that it’s quite obvious that this house,” you gestured vaguely around you as you stepped closer to him, “is all for show. You moved me here,” pointing to yourself, “for show. I know your intentions, I understand what I am to you…so I ask you to allow me to have my own room until we are wed. If anything, it’s only for show.” You smiled up at him, feeling you aced him.

He simply smiled back, leaning down slightly. His smile made your triumph falter and fade. “I knew I liked you for a reason, you’re incredibly…perceptive.” His eye leveled you with a glance from your eyes, to your shoes and back up again. “Fine,” he straightened, “you’ll get your own room…until we are wed.”

You blew hot air through your nose, feeling anger festering in your pores. “And when is that?” 

Aemond turned from you, pulling his suit jacket off and placing it on the mattress. “Two weeks.”

Your blood ran cold, “Two weeks? How can you plan a wedding in two weeks?”

Aemond laughed as he loosened his tie, “I’ve had someone on it for a while now-”

“Show me my room please,” anger, resentment, hate boiled through your veins and ignited your heart. “I need some space.”

Aemond chuckled, “Take your pick.” He motioned toward the door, expecting you to find your own way out. You turned and began marching for the door when you heard him call out, “Just remember, you said the bedroom is ‘just for show.”

Turning back toward him, you glared. Of course he wouldn’t let you leave without an innuendo and threat. “Fuck you,” you spat and turned back for the doors, pushing hard. Before you were out of earshot, you heard him laughing to himself with a “soon enough” coming from his lips.

You picked the room furthest from his, on the other side of the second floor entirely. Locking the door as soon as you got into the room despite the fact that the door could be unblocked from the outside. So, for extra measure, you managed to push a dresser in front of the door, more effectively blocking yourself in. 

Safe.

The feeling of dread left you quickly and you felt safe enough to take a shower, wrapping yourself in your towel and laying in the soft bed. You check your phone for the first time today to see you have no messages or calls. You try to call your dad, explain why you left in such haste but your phone would not ring out. No phone service. No carrier.

The fucker turned off my phone too?

Bitterly anger turned into hopelessness which turned into tears. And like how most of your nights went recently, your tears lulled yourself to sleep.

A field of tall grass surrounded you as the soft wind blew your hair. You looked around you to see a river rushing along the base of the hill you were standing on. The river rushed proudly against the grey landscape pushing and pulling where it dared. Then suddenly, the river changed its course, pummeling straight up the hill for you. Sand and loamy clay was left dry where it ceased flowing. Now, at the bottom of the river lies the grass that surrounded you, held you, protected you. You had mere seconds to think before the river reached you and you had yet to think of anything but the cold waves approaching. Suddenly, the sky overhead was dark and thunder thumped hard against the sky. Thump. Thump. Thump.

You awakened to thunder, sitting up in bed. You look around the room in a daze from your previous slumber. The night is dark, starry, clear.

The room thunders again. 

Knocking.

Aemond calls your name from behind the doors. 

“Go away!” Your voice doesn’t tremble, you’re safe behind the doors with the dresser blocking you in. The sounds cease, you find sleep again with less ease.

In the morning, you stand staring at the doors after having moved the dresser, contemplating if your hunger is worth emerging from your hiding spot. The grumble in your stomach pushes you to open the doors and reassures you that Aemond won’t try anything stupid in front of his hired help. You walk to where you remember the kitchen is, bare feet padding against the cold marble floors, without seeing a single person. The sun has been up for a few hours now and you grow uneasy at the fact there aren’t people here to bear witness and pass judgment on Aemond if he were to do something inappropriate but the house is quiet…too quiet. You wonder if he is even home.

You stop in the middle of the kitchen, listening for footsteps or even life; all you hear is the ticking of a grandfather clock several rooms away. Aemond must not be home. 

Relief trickled through you as you opened the fridge, cool light flooding across your face. Picking the easiest thing, a yogurt cup, you closed the fridge then searched the multitude of drawers before you found the silverware drawer and plucked a spoon from it. Quickly, you headed back upstairs with your scavenged breakfast in case Aemond came back early. Opening the strawberry yogurt cup and dipping into it with a spoon, you ate a bite on the way back to your new room until movement stopped you dead in your tracks. 

Your eyes locked with Aemond as he was stepping out of your room. 

“What are you doing?”

A flash of a glare ran across his face, if you blinked, you would have missed it. “You’re not supposed to eat food outside the kitchen or dining room.”

You narrowed your eyes, reiterating, “What are you doing in my room?”

He challenged you, narrowing his own back. “Not. Your. Room. I own this house.”

“Sorry, my space in this hellscape you call a home,” you shifted your stance.

He took a step toward you from the door, “Don’t ever lock yourself in again.”

You laughed, “I’m not your free use slave. You can’t come in and fuck me whenever you want-”

Aemond shook his head, “I was worried about you last night, you had screamed in your sleep-”

“You good-for-nothing jackass…I don’t talk in my sleep, let alone scream. Quit lying and stay the fuck away from me.” Anger overrode your body as he took more steps toward you, causing you to fling the yogurt cup at him, splashing across his face and body. 

He was shocked for several moments, mouth hanging agape, before his eye settled on you; you trying to suppress your laughter behind your two hands clasped over your mouth.

“You little bi-”

Before he could finish, you turned tail and ran, gleeful you’d made an actual mess of him and feeling some sort of victory in doing so. You heard him swear behind you then, the thundering footsteps closing in quickly behind you. 

With nowhere to escape to, you ran into his bedroom, shutting the doors behind you with barely enough time. His pounding on the doors rattled the wood just after you had locked the handles. He called your name behind the wood and you just laughed again, feeling bested the beast in his own home. 

“You’re gonna have to be quicker than that- '' came your sing-song voice in a mocking tone. 

Immediately, the banging ceased. The speed at quick Aemond gave up his pursuit gave you an awful feeling in your stomach but thinking about it was short lived when you saw that in your valor of throwing the yogurt on Aemond, you had spilled a long drop down your shirt and thighs. Cursing to yourself silently, you made your way into the bathroom.

Flicking on the lights, in search of whatever vanity drawer Aemond stored his washrags in so you could wipe the pink yogurt from your only pair of clothes. You didn’t find it in any of the top drawers so bending down, you continued your search for something to wipe off the residue. Soon, you found the drawer containing the washrags and plucking one from the drawer, you stood, turning on the water and running the rag under it until it was fully soaked and warm. Only then, did you look up from the vanity countertop and into the mirror; jumping in fright.

Aemond was standing behind you, smirking. Like a cougar watching his prey from the trees.

You turned quickly, and tried to shove the wet rag in his face only for him to grab you and spin you around to face yourself in the mirror, your hands subdued tightly behind your back. You then noticed another door, slightly ajar, it looked like it led to a large walk-in closet that must have been connected to the hall. 

“That wasn’t very nice of you-”

“Leave me alone,” you struggled weakly in his grip. The pain in your wrist igniting once more.

He chuckled and pressed himself harshly against you, smearing the pink goo across the back of your shirt. “I think we need to clean up, don’t you?”

“Nope, all fine,” you gritted out as you struggled in his hold.

His nose came to press against your throat, you felt your heartbeat quicken as he inhaled your scent. “You, at least, need to clean me.” Without giving you time to process, he hauled you toward the shower, pushing you in and then stepping inside himself. You offered him only a quizzical glare before he turned the showerhead on and began soaking you through your clothes. You huffed and backed out of the water stream and he closed you in, water now drenching him and his clothes; he didn’t seem to care as he began to strip the wet clothes from his body. “Clean the mess you made and you’re free to go.” 

It seemed too easy, too simple. He definitely wouldn't leave it at that. 

Regardless, you began collecting water in your hands as he continued to strip. With trepidation, you moved your hands to his face, wiping a splatter of pink from his cheekbone; trying not to look at his smug expression. His skin was coarse against your fingers. Something about the action was intimate, close, you hated it; it made you feel at ease in his presence.

He bent down, stripping his underwear from his body, completely nude now. However, the rest of the mess was left on his clothes, his skin was clean now.

“I’m done,” you announced with no emotion, trying to conceal embarrassment behind impassiveness. 

He tutted gently, “You’ve made quite a mess of my cock too. You need to clean that up as well.” He glanced down to his member, returning his triumphant smirk to your face. 

You narrowed your eyes, “That’s your own doing. I’m not-”

He brought a hand up to your thigh, collecting some of the yogurt that hadn’t been washed away and rubbed it along his cockhead. 

“Seems like you did make a mess, sweet river, now be a good girl and this’ll all be over.”

HIs honeyed tone was laced with something addictive and once again, you felt yourself falling victim to whatever charm this snake held over you. When his hand came up to your shoulder and pushed you down, you found yourself falling to your knees for him while your glare never left his face. That was, until you were face to face with his manhood, tip smeared with pink. Your mouth watered against your wishes and your eyes glanced back up to him as water trickled down his toned abs, valleying around the base of his and his heavy sac.

Just do what he wants, a voice told you and you gave in.

Carefully, you stuck your tongue out, licking some pink from the bottom of his ruddy head. You heard him shudder at such a small action and it excited you; the thought of reducing him to your whim as he often did to you. So, your tongue swirled around his head again, taking just the tip of him into your mouth and sucking wet and slowly, letting saliva, mixed with yogurt and precum fall down past your lips to be washed down the drain with the rest of the water that fell off of him. You felt him buck against your mouth, releasing a small, barely audible whine when you pulled back from his charge. His hand flew to your hair, eye scrunched shut. He didn’t attempt to move you further onto his cock, rather, hold you steady. “Fuck- please,” he all but groaned as you continued licking and sucking just the tip. 

Smiling, you pulled off of him. “I think you’re clean now.” Your hands in your lap, his hand in your hair. He opened his eye and looked down at you with an annoyed, lazy glare. “Finish,” he all but demanded.

You shook your head. “That would make a bigger mess.”

He rolled his eye, “Okay, let’s see how you like it.”

And before you could process what he was doing, he pulled you up, pulling down your pajama bottoms and underwear in one swift motion, backing you against the cold, tiled wall of the shower and sinking to his knees before you. His mouth was on your cunt like a madman and he hiked one of your legs up with a strong hand, giving him freer access to your womanhood.

His tongue circled your clit like a vulture before he zeroed in, suckling gently. Your hands flew into his wet hair, entangling as you whined and threw your head back a little too harshly against the wall, making the back of your head sting in residual pain but you didn’t care, all you could focus on was the intense pleasure he was ripping from you.

His other hand came up to play with your entrance, lithe fingers dancing, teasing, but never acting in the way you wanted them to, needed them to. You ground down, trying to impale yourself on the fingers that played at your entrance to no avail. Aemond chuckled against your folds, pulling himself from them to look up at your ecstasy ridden face. 

“Don’t like it?”

You huffed, running a hand over your eyes, wanting nothing more than to hide yourself from his goading. “Shut up.”

“How about I grant both of your wishes while you grant mine?” He stood, pulling your top and bra off, depositing them in the heap of clothes at the bottom of the foggy shower.

His hands ran up your ribcage, stopping just below your breasts and cupping them. He placed tender kisses on each one, tongue running along the soft skin. 

“Which is?” Your breath was heavy. This is wrong but at the moment, it’s so right. 

“I’ll shut up and we both get to come,” he added a kiss to your collarbone.

“Are you actually asking me permission?” You could have laughed.

He suckled on the skin just below your ear, making you repress a breathy whine.

“I told you I’d treat you better.”

You chuckled this time, grabbing his wet hair and pulling him away from your skin so he could look at you. “Okay. Fuck me Aemond.”

His face cracked with a soft smile and he cocked his head, “Manners…”

You rolled your eyes and grasped his cock, stroking the velvety skin, pulling it closer to your aching core. “I think we’re long past manners…don’t you?” 

Aemond huffed a singular chuckle through his nose before he hiked one of your legs up and aligned himself, sinking into your core in a slow, purposeful thrust. You moaned at the feeling of him stretching you; how he made you feel so full. No one could make you feel like this and you were painfully aware that he knew it.

He began thrusting into you in earnest, chasing a high he had been denied by your lips and newfound victory in your cunt. He steadied himself with a hand on the wall beside your head as his rough pounding became faster, pulling and pushing against that delicate spot inside you that had you whining and wrapping your arms around his shoulders and neck. 

“Play with yourself, “ he commanded through rough thrusts.

Your brain was nearly too fucked out to comprehend he had even spoke.

He grunted, delivering a harsh thrust. “I said play with yourself.” He panted, “M’ Close and want you to cum on my cock to finish me.”

You obeyed a bit too quickly, moving a hand down between where you two were joined, rubbing your clit gently and sometimes, teasing him by moving further and caressing his shaft as if emerged and sunk back into your heat. 

“Fuck- fuck- don’t do that.”

You cocked your head to the side, bobbing with each snap of his hips, “Do what?”

Your playful ignorance ignited a more severe side of him and his hand came up and wrapped around your throat, “Don’t- fuck, you like that don’t you? You like it when I’m rough with you?”

It was true, the moment his hand wrapped around your throat possessively, you clenched around him and nearly came. You could be just as brazen though.

Before he knew it, your hands intertwined in his hair, pulling him close to you. Your mouth was on his lips, kissing him with a fever that took him off guard. Lips interlocking, you sucked on his plump bottom lip before forcing your tongue down his throat that he greedily took in.

Suddenly and without warning, Aemond thrusted forward, driving deeper inside you and groaning against your lips as he came harder than he ever had. You felt the hot spend coating your insides and nearly sent you over the edge as he pulsated, hot and heavy in your cunt.

His lips slowly fell from your own as he came down from his high and pulled back, looking at you with a strange reverie in his eye as if he was studying a new species of animal only he had just found.

His cock, still lodged deep inside of you as you ground yourself against him, making him break his trance and hiss in overstimulation; pulling out of you. “You lied,” you said simply as his cum started dripping down your thighs. “But I guess that’s all you ever do, isn’t it?”

His eye searched your own, a confused look on his face. “You said you’d shut up and we both got to come. Only you came and I didn’t. Oh, and you didn’t shut up. You talked a whole lot.”

He chuckled, turning off the shower and kicking the drenched pile of clothes off to the side, “Well, I know how I can fix that.” He took your hand and moved you to sit down on the shower floor. “Lay your pretty head on those clothes and spread your legs.”

As always, comments, reblogs and likes are appreciated but never necessary!

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[eoieopda]

lacuna (knj)

lacuna (n): a blank space, a missing part

In his twenty-eight years, Kim Namjoon had made countless mistakes. Most of them were insignificant and could be shoved easily enough into the back corner of his mind. The worst of them were all tied for first place, keeping him up at night.

Loving you, losing you, and now – picking up the phone. 

Pairing: Ex!Kim Namjoon x Fem!Reader Type: One-Shot (Angst, Smut - 18+ or else.) Word Count: Like, 7K (?!) Content: ex-boyfriend au; exes to something?; literally so much angst; yearning; pov switches; oral sex (f receiving); unprotected sex; p in v penetration; cursing; texts from Yoongi. A/N: For reasons unknown, I decided to break my own heart today! The lyrics you'll see below are from "Sooner" by The Low Blow. There's also a reference to one of my favorite tv shows at the end - did you catch it? (1/9/23) The sequel, Redamancy, is finally here! (3/17/23) There is now a playlist 🥲

Sitting cross-legged on the rug, your weary, unfocused eyes stared somewhere in the vicinity of Min Yoongi. Shrouded all in black, you nearly assumed he was your sleep paralysis demon, hunched over his keyboard with his eyes narrowed in thought – but you hadn’t slept much at all lately. Not with your deadline looming overhead like the sword of Damocles. 

He relayed what was already looping through your brain. “It’s missing something.” 

You scrubbed your hands over your face, too burnt out to care if your foundation stayed where it was supposed to. “I know,” was all you said, though it wasn’t all you were thinking. Listening to this demo – this crushing song about love lost – you knew what was missing.

Or rather, who. 

Once again reading your mind, Yoongi spoke with a wary sigh. This time, he said the quiet part out loud. “Listen, I know that on a personal level, this is a terrible idea. But if you really want this track to ache –” 

“I’ll call him.” 

Yoongi turned to look at you over his shoulder. He, like you, hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours; but his surprise still managed to crack through an otherwise impassive expression.

“You sure you want to be the one?” His frown was microscopic, but it was there and it bruised. “I have to hit him up, anyway, so I can handle this for you.” 

You’d never told him – or any of your friends, come to think of it – the details of your whatever it was with Namjoon. You couldn’t call it a breakup; that would necessitate a relationship. You couldn’t comfortably assign that word to this indescribable something.

But maybe that’s precisely why it hurt to breathe when you thought too hard about it. Maybe the thing that burned in your lungs was the fact that whatever it was wasn’t much of anything at all. 

The universally known narrative was that you met Kim Namjoon at a release party two years prior. After years of putting out extended plays, he was dropping his highly anticipated, full-length masterpiece.

That’s what your label called it; that’s what the press called it; but you couldn’t agree. That word wasn’t heavy enough – it didn’t give due credit to the pieces of himself he broke down and buried within those twelve tracks. You felt seen when you heard it. When you saw him, it was game over. 

As the story goes, you went home with him that night. While true, it was the tiniest fragment sitting sharp at the tip of an iceberg. The rest was an ill-equipped ship, sailing in slow-motion through the dark. 

He'd spent the entirety of his celebration focused on you. What you thought; what you wanted for yourself; what made that tipsy, uninhibited giggle come flying out of your chest. And then, holding his hand like it’d been tailor-made for yours, you followed his lead out of there while confused partygoers murmured in your wake. 

He fucked you like he knew you – on a cellular level – and he looked at you like you were all there was. You’d spent the entirety of the following day there, draped over him or nestled underneath him. You were never not touching in some way – in the little interludes of sleep; while cooking a breakfast too big for the two of you alone; on every surface of his apartment. 

He changed your life in those twenty-four hours, but not enough for it to stick. 

You’d spent as much time with him as you could in the year afterward, until your twin ambitions sent you both rocketing in other directions. Your various obligations never allowed you to be in the same place for long; and when they did, it was over too soon. No amount of time would ever feel like enough, but half a day, here and there, felt like a cosmic joke.

Like the universe was punishing you for wanting everything, all at once. 

Eventually, you came to a fork in the road. His career, though international, was rooted in Korea – home. Yours took you to Los Angeles, to a vastly different time zone, and a schedule that refused to make space. And you tried, but when it came down to choosing – idling together or racing forward alone – your respective dreams were so heavy that they tipped the scales.  

Neither of you could blame the other. After all, you’d both made the same decision. There was some small comfort in knowing that he understood you. That consolation couldn’t keep you warm at night when you’d instinctively reach out and find half of your bed still empty.

It would’ve been so much easier to live without him if there was some horrible betrayal to pin it all on, but he was as perfect when you lost him as he was when you found him. 

Shaky legs pushed you off the ground. Without meaning to, you groaned as your body returned to its regularly scheduled programming. Yoongi simply muttered, “Same,” as he made additional adjustments in his editing software.

You affectionally touched your knuckles to his shoulder as you passed by, though you quickly realized this gesture wasn’t made to comfort him. 

You shut the door softly behind you and headed up the hallway. Having kicked off and subsequently lost your shoes several hours ago, you padded in socked feet across the hardwood. The pattern – the various evolutions of Eevee – clashed so blatantly with the extravagance around you. Glancing down, you chuckled. At least some parts of you were still recognizable. 

The door to the stairwell creaked as you pushed it open and ducked inside. No longer camped out in the soundproof studio, you could hear the smattering of raindrops as they pummeled the exterior walls of the building. Somewhere between a drum roll and machine gun fire, you couldn’t figure out if the noise emphasized or relieved your anxiety. 

Gently, you lowered yourself down on a step halfway up the flight. As you stared down at your phone, your knee bounced of its own volition.

For once, you were thankful for the seventeen-hour time difference. This was the kind of call you needed to make at midnight, but one you didn’t want him receiving at midnight. It felt so much safer in daylight.

At least one of you had eyes on the sun. 

You’d deleted his number from your phone months ago because you thought it might help you let go. It didn’t. And to make matters worse, you still knew it by heart. As you typed it out easily, you wished this realization surprised you. You also wished that you’d catch him at a bad time, so you could simply leave a message. 

You’d never been lucky, though, had you?

Namjoon was half-asleep at a café table when the vibration of his phone against the wrought metal snapped him out of it. In his under-caffeinated daze, he couldn’t determine what that unbearable grinding noise was.

He could, however, see the way the elderly woman nearby was scowling at him. He furrowed his brows and blinked back at her; silently asking what the fuck her problem was. Just as silently, she pointed an angry, wrinkled finger to his tabletop. 

By the time his brain kicked into gear, he was too late. He picked up his now-quiet phone and nearly dropped it in an instant when he saw your name tied to a missed call.

He didn’t think twice before returning it – he should have – having figured there was only one way to know if he was truly hallucinating. You picked up immediately in a voice so you that he couldn’t have imagined it. He knew because he'd already tried.

“Hey.” 

People who didn’t know you often mistook the natural rasp of your voice for tiredness, but he did know you. You were beyond exhausted, more so than the last time he’d heard from you. Five months and twenty-one days ago.

This sounded like another all-nighter; like you got so consumed in creating that you couldn’t sleep until you finished. Remembering you like this opened a black hole in his chest – all this fondness with nowhere to go, collapsing in on itself, pulling.

What kind of masochist was he, voluntarily subjecting himself to this conversation? 

“Hey,” He croaked. Even his voice didn't know what to do. 

He heard shuffling on your end. You always pinned your phone between your right ear and shoulder to start — he immediately recognized the sound of your hair against the receiver when you switched it to your left side. Vanilla and honey flooded his nose despite the thousands of miles that separated him from the scent of your shampoo. 

There were a thousand questions spinning dizzy in his mind, but he couldn’t untangle them to spit one out. The longer you both remained quiet, the worse it got – and the worse he felt for his silence. Even without seeing you, he knew that your brows were knitting together. He knew that quiet made you feel too exposed. 

Namjoon cleared his throat to speak at the same moment you asked, “How are you?” His words echoed, a half-second from being uttered in unison. 

He prayed to any god that he’d stop feeling so nervous. There was no reason to be, not with you. You were his comfort zone, his safe space and – oh. Past tense.

Presently, you were – what, exactly? Could he call you an “ex” if you’d never had a title? It all felt too juvenile, hearing people whisper about his girlfriend. You were –fuck – You were home, and now his house was haunted.

A ghost. 

“I’ve been good,” he said quickly, planting a hollow smile on his face that wouldn’t have convinced you if you were there. Liar, liar, liar. “Busy. You sound –” 

“Awful?”

“– like you’ve been working all night.” 

He heard a sheepish chuckle and his clumsy, thudding heart went flying off into the void.

“That’s actually why I’m calling,” you admitted in a voice so tiny he nearly missed it, “And I wouldn’t be – I promise – if I could’ve bothered anyone else with this. This one, though… when I hear it in my head, I can’t imagine anyone –” 

“Say less.” 

It slipped out of him automatically. He couldn’t stop it. Now it was dangling there in dead air where he couldn’t reach it and shove it back down his throat. He must have said that to you a thousand times, giving you whatever you needed before you could even finish asking.

This was the first time he’d ever said it without punctuating it with a kiss to your forehead, though. And now, his equilibrium was off, like the staircase had one less step than he was expecting. 

When you finally broke the silence, he could’ve sworn he heard you sniffle, but he quickly kicked that thought back into the cage it escaped from. Your voice didn’t sound sad at all, so you couldn’t have been crying. Why would you be?

“I can have Yoongi send you what we have so far, lyrics too. If you’re interested, just let me know – verse, bridge, whatever you want.” 

“You’re with Yoongi?” 

It came out exactly as he hadn't intended – accusatory. It was no business of his who you spent time with, professionally or otherwise. And it didn’t even surprise him that Yoongi would stick around after the – whatever it was. All your shared friends stayed shared. His confusion was solely that Yoongi never mentioned working with you, let alone flying stateside to do so. 

Why hadn’t Yoongi said something? Did he assume Namjoon wouldn’t be interested in hearing about your project? Because he would - he kept up with all of your releases, even if it hurt. Was he scared that the mere mention of you would exacerbate the tailspin Namjoon was barely surviving?

Or was it something else? 

“Yeah, he got here a few days ago. I offered to send the vocals to him, but he said he wanted In-N-Out,” Your laugh, even under the weight of your sleepiness, still packed a punch. “Might be the longest trip anyone’s ever made for animal-style fries.” 

Namjoon felt like he was going to pass out, but for your sake, he tried to echo your laugh. “Sounds like he’s got his priorities in order, as usual.” 

That uncomfortable silence crawled back in and settled in the space between you. It never used to be like this. His mouth remained open as if his broken brain could think of a single thing to say. There were hours in every second that passed, but he didn’t hang up – and neither did you. 

“So, if I figure something out, I can shoot it back over –” 

You interrupted this time.

“No need,” You chirped. You must’ve sensed that his train of thought now consisted only of question marks because you dove right back in, “I’ll be in Seoul at the end of the month, so we can put all the pieces together then.” 

Please be speaking metaphorically. Please say – 

“I’ve gotta hop off now, but it was –” Your voice petered out at the end of your statement, and he didn’t know what to do within the pause.

What pleasantry would you settle on to end this conversation? Was it nice to hear from him, or did you also feel like you’d walked through the emotional equivalent of a car wash?  

It was heavy when you exhaled the amendment, hitting the ground with a thud that could’ve knocked him over.

It was torture, and it drop-kicked him into the abyss at full-speed. No light above, no hope below. A black hole that he kept selfishly refusing to close – all because he answered your call. 

“Thank you, Joonie.” 

Fuck. He was doomed.

You spent a shocking percentage of your life on international flights. It was a privilege – you knew it – to travel to the extent that you did, but it was so lonely.

If you were flying, there were two justifications. The first was the most common – touring. You’d touch down in cities all over the world, stay for a few hours, and then you’d leave again as soon as you could blink.

Your interactions were limited, either one-sided conversations from a stage; or facilitated entirely by a local translator. Never truly connecting, missed phone calls and texts sent too late to get a response. The same stale conversations with the crew that had been stuck with you for months. 

The second was less common, and somehow even lonelier – visiting a home that was no longer yours. 

It always went the same way. You’d touch down at the Incheon International Airport in your home country and feel just as foreign as the tourists bustling around you. You’d gather a suitcase’s worth of belongings and try not to think about the fact that they – and everything else you owned – once lived there, too. You’d hit customs and then, as a reward, snag yourself some boba from the café on your way out the door. 

In all those trips, you’d never once hailed a cab because Namjoon was always waiting. You’d hear him before you saw him with how loud he kept his car’s stereo, but when you did finally lay eyes on him, you’d light up like a sparkler. He’d shower you with affection – publicly, despite his usually private nature – and swap out the luggage in your hands for some thoughtful surprise. Flowers, usually, after painstaking deliberation over the meaning he wanted to convey. 

Now, you stood on the sidewalk with your empty hand in the air. 

Shortly after settling into your cab, you fell asleep. The person who would have gently scolded you for taking this risk wasn’t there to do so. Instead, you woke up stiff and disoriented to the sound of your driver honking his horn. You quickly learned that he wasn’t honking at traffic; he was honking at you with a scowl on his face. 

“Time to go! Wake up – your stop!” 

He was speaking in English, so it took you a few moments to determine whether you were dreaming. Impatient, he honked again.

Did he think you were a tourist? Was he right?

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you threw the door open and hurled yourself out. You ran to the trunk, snatched your suitcase, and tried not to remember that you didn't used to have to do this part yourself.

Yoongi had the foresight to give you a spare keycard before leaving California, so you were able to get into his building quickly – before you were honked at again. Spoken to in English again, like this place had never been home.

You, belonging nowhere and to no one, kept yourself together until the elevator doors gave you some semblance of shelter. 

Alone, alone, alone, you cried so hard that your shoulders shook. The mirrored walls around you showed infinite versions of you, all pitiful like you were still that little girl who’d gotten separated from her parents at an amusement park. It was incredible how you felt smaller in that elevator than you did as a child.

And fuck, did that embarrassment make you cry even harder. 

Eventually, those doors would have to re-open, and you’d have to let yourself into Yoongi’s unoccupied penthouse just to wait for his return. You were so sick of walking into empty apartments and hearing nothing but your own footsteps. No warmth, no laughter, just a black hole of your own creation. 

You chose this, you reminded yourself. This is what you wanted, wasn’t it? You were so busy chasing broader horizons, you didn't notice that the sun had disappeared. If you’d known – really, truly known – what the fall would be like, would you have taken that leap of faith? No, you think, but you did and there’s no jumping back into the airplane once you’ve dived out of it.

Ding. 

There was a post-it note waiting for you on the inside of Yoongi’s door that you would’ve missed if you hadn’t taken so much time to shut it behind you. His handwriting was shockingly neat for someone who was always in a rush. His note told you that he’d be home in two hours, that there was food for you in the refrigerator, and that you should help yourself to whatever you needed. 

The sinkhole in your stomach wasn’t created by hunger, so you pushed that down to the bottom of your to-do list and dragged your luggage to the guest bedroom down the hall.

Every inch of his place was undeniably Yoongi – monochromatic and edgy, but still so confusingly inviting. His guest room was similar in style, but with more personalized touches than most visitors tended to expect. Framed photos of friends, and the collaborators he was most proud to work with.

Your eyes eventually found one of you, beaming brightly. 

It hurt to look, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away. It was taken in a photobooth at Kim Seokjin’s wedding last spring. You were sandwiched on a small bench seat between Yoongi and Namjoon.

The former, like you, was captured in the middle of a laugh - smiling at the camera with all teeth, eyes crinkled at the edges but still sparkling. The latter wasn’t looking at the camera at all – just you, like you were all there was. 

Forcing yourself to look away, you returned the frame to its place on the vanity and kept moving. Your primary instinct was to hurl yourself into the plush bed and never leave it. But you felt stale after spending so much time traveling, and you didn’t want to collapse into those beautiful sheets until you’d scrubbed the day off you. 

Shuffling off to the bathroom, you finally remembered to take your phone off ‘airplane mode.’ All at once, the floodgates opened. The onslaught of texts, emails, and voicemails was so overwhelming that your phone froze.

When the flurry stopped, you scanned through your various inboxes for anything that might require an immediate response. Finding nothing urgent, you were about to set your phone down when you saw an email from Namjoon, addressing both you and Yoongi.

His verse, you realized as you opened it. 

I think I lost you sooner than I wanted to  And I know you can't say the same  But I can't hate you for doing what you've gotta do  Cause I'm just in bed sleeping through the pain  Do you see wasted potential when you look at me?  Of what we could be if it wasn't like this  I know you asked me not to try and change myself  But when I was with you, I felt fixed 

It took everything you had not to drop to your knees.

Namjoon was an incredible liar.

He didn’t utilize the skill often – in fact, he was usually too honest – but when he did, he could get himself out of any unwanted scenario.

In the distant past, he’d slip out of obligations made by his label to stay home in bed with you. It worked every single time. Instead of putting on some over-priced suit, wasting his breath swapping empty pleasantries with industry tools; he’d be hooking his arms around your quivering thighs, pinning you to his face as he fucked you with his tongue. 

In the present, he lied again. 

Yoongi asked, “How did it feel to hear from her again?” 

“To be honest,” Namjoon started, knowing full well that nothing he said next would be, “That shit’s behind me, man. I was surprised her number was still in my contacts, you know? She’s been a non-factor for a minute.” 

Yoongi rolled his eyes, “With the number of girls you’ve gone through in the meantime, I imagine it gets hard to keep track.” 

Hook, line, sinker. 

Namjoon offered a smirk and a shrug in response, which Yoongi accepted without further comment. The relief of being believed did nothing to cure the nausea swirling in Namjoon’s stomach, though - not just for the cruelty of his lie, but for the way he’d acted since you left and stayed gone.  

He learned early on that it would take more than fucking someone he didn't know to keep warm, but knowing better didn’t mean he did better. None of them – and there were many – could pull him from the limbo he found himself in without you. There was an emptiness gnawing at his insides that he couldn’t fill, and the more he tried, the more it tore at him.

The only thing he succeeded at was becoming someone he didn’t recognize –someone he didn’t even like. 

Yoongi pulled into his parking garage and turned to Namjoon, staking him through the heart with words alone. “Well, the non-factor is upstairs, so try to remember her name when you see her.” 

Namjoon chuckled, but it didn’t sound anywhere close to convincing. There was a flicker of doubt in Yoongi’s quickly flexed eyebrow, though he kept any questions he may have had to himself. Without a word, they clambered out of the car, and they stayed quiet until they stepped into the elevator. 

“How has she been?” Namjoon asked more quietly than he meant to. Like someone who’s scared of the answer - or worse, being asked why he’s asking. Quickly diverting further inquiry, he provided clarification Yoongi hadn’t sought. “Sounded tired as fuck on the phone.” 

Yoongi glanced at Namjoon before selecting the button marked with his floor number. “You know how she is,” He hummed. 

That one hurt. He knew how you were – past tense.

Except for that one phone call, he hadn’t heard your voice in months. He hadn’t seen you for even longer than that. Your number hadn’t changed, but for all he knew, everything else could have. All he had now was his memory’s pale imitation of you, always in sight but never within reach.

A ghost that disappeared into the walls before he could get too close. 

When the elevator door opened, Namjoon was fighting between running forward and running away. Incapable of doing either, it was Yoongi’s light punch on his bicep that prompted his feet to move. Namjoon trudged along after him until Yoongi stopped short with a groan. 

“The fuck?” Namjoon coughed as he collided with Yoongi’s back. “Don’t tell me you’re already winded, dude. I’m not giving your old ass a piggy-back ride.” 

The scowl he received could’ve scorched the Earth.  

“I forgot my fucking phone in the car.” Yoongi tossed his apartment key at Namjoon. It thudded against his unsuspecting chest only to be caught on the rebound.

Then, Yoongi pointed at the door. “Go play nice and figure out where we’re getting take-out from. I had a dream about bulgogi last night that was borderline sexual, so keep that in mind.” 

Namjoon’s face scrunched up. “I’ll be trying my best to keep it out, so thanks for that.”  

Yoongi had already turned around, waving a dismissive hand as he stalked off. 

As soon as Namjoon heard the elevator doors close, his phone chirped in his pocket and caught him off guard. He glanced down to find a text from Yoongi – who was, apparently, also a liar. 

Yoongi [18:19 PM]: fyi you always say “to be honest” when you’re about to say some bullshit Yoongi [18:19 PM]: "non-factor" my asssssss

Namjoon grimaced and shoved his phone back into his pocket before walking to Yoongi’s door with his heart in his throat.

Clearly, Yoongi wanted Najmoon to fix things with you. He’d crafted some false narrative to get himself out of there, to give Namjoon the time and space to do it. But there wasn’t a single fucking thing he could say to rebuild the bridge you’d both demolished together.

That is, if you even wanted him to try.

After unlocking the door, he froze. A full minute passed before his hand received his brain’s signal to turn the knob, and even then, his feet felt as if they were encased in concrete. If hearing your voice made him spiral, he was terrified of what the sight of you might do.

More than anything, he was scared to see how you looked at him – and he didn’t know what reaction he wanted. If you lit up the way you used to, it might kill him. If you had no reaction at all, it would definitely kill him. 

He would’ve stalled at that threshold all night if you didn’t appear in the hallway, straight ahead. You froze like a deer in headlights, one hand still on the door you’d exited from. Eyes wide, lips parted ever so slightly in surprise.

He didn’t notice the red rims around your eyes right away, but once he did, every cell in his body screamed at him to run to you, to hold you.

But he didn’t.

Touching you now only to lose you again tomorrow - well, that was a scab he couldn’t rip off again. There was only scar tissue where his heart used to be.

“Hey,” You smiled so sweetly when you saw him, but it didn’t reach your eyes. Those fucking eyes! He’d give up everything he had to erase the sadness swimming behind them, threatening to spill out. 

Why were you still so far away?

You glanced around him, noting Yoongi’s absence, but didn’t ask where he was. “I was thinking we could get something from that –” 

The longer he stared at you, the more impossible it became to keep his distance. He couldn’t stand on that doorstep with you over there, trying so hard to look like you hadn’t been crying – like you weren’t about to start again. 

Fuck it.

If he was so dead-set on re-breaking his own heart, he’d do it with you in his arms.

“Joonie, is everything oka–” 

No, nothing was. Nothing had been, not for – fuck, are his eyes getting misty? - a long time. Not since you walked out of his apartment for the last time, and he let you. He couldn’t make any of it okay, but with you there now, he didn’t give a fuck about where you were before. 

Your eyes were as big as the moon when he finally reached you, blinking your surprise up at him.

Did you really think he had any other option than to hold you? Did you have any idea how you looking at him like this - bare-faced, freshly-showered, vulnerable - demanded his immediate affection?

It felt like coming home, sliding his fingers through your still-damp hair. He could’ve fallen to pieces when the familiar scent of your shampoo – vanilla and honey – crashed over him, but he didn’t. His lips collided with yours, and for the first time in a fucking year, he felt whole.

You clung to him so desperately, you could’ve ripped a hole in his shirt. You couldn't care about that, though, because he kissed you and it was pure starlight. He kissed you hard, nicking your lip between his teeth until you opened your mouth against his.

You whimpered into him, drunk on the wet heat of his mouth, melting and falling and spinning and flying. You felt it all fall to the wayside, every second wasted without him, every text you didn’t send, every wrong turn that led you so far away. 

You didn't realize until you finally broke apart that the tears on your cheek weren’t exclusively yours. His gaze locked with yours, and all either of you could do was gasp for air - chests heaving, lips kissed swollen. If not for the arm around your back, pinning you against his chest, you would’ve floated away. But he had you, completely.  

Finally, you felt tethered. 

Your trembling hand settled on the side of his face. Fuck! That face. The warmth of his skin, the heights of his cheek bones, the gentle slope of his nose.

How many mornings did you wake up and miss it? How did you ever fall asleep without it nuzzled into the crook of your neck, without the whisper of warm breath on your skin?

You wanted to scream until the hurt left your chest, but you didn’t dare – not with that face so perfectly close to yours.  

He spoke first, “I’m so –” 

Your eyes followed your thumb as it swiped over his bottom lip, unearthing a quiver that burned you up inside. He was paralyzed by your touch. Enraptured. Leaving that clause hanging open in the air.

His eyes were wide with anticipation as he watched you, pupils dilating when you whispered. “Say less.” 

Faster than you could process, he lifted you off the ground as if you weighed nothing at all. Automatically, your legs locked behind his back; your lips re-captured his and his kiss never faltered as he carried you back into the guest room. Quickly and with a shocking display of control, he kicked the door closed without slamming it – or breaking it. 

Like so many times before, he laid you gently onto the mattress as if you were crafted from porcelain. And when he finally pulled away from you, you gazed up at him in awe.

This was one of the million reasons you couldn’t seem to let him go – the way his eyes softened when you were breathless underneath him, like you were the only thing in the universe worth looking at.

There were too many things to be said that neither of you could verbalize. You felt them all falling down around you like confetti, loose ends to be tied up later. He didn’t need to say a thing, so long as he kept looking at you like that. 

When his fingers landed at the hem of your shirt, you knew what came next. A dance you’d done a thousand times, you lifted your arms for him to pull it up and off. Still damp from your shower, the ends of your hair raised goosebumps as they chilled the bare skin of your back.  

He moved slowly and without breaking eye contact as he unbuttoned your jeans. Your zipper followed, then your jeans and underwear in tandem. The denim dragged so deliciously against your thighs as he slipped them down, down, down. As he tugged them off your ankles, you discarded your bra and tossed it aside. You were entirely bare and shivering with anticipation when his gaze found you again.

His shirt soon joined yours on the floor. Kneeling between your legs, his bare chest burned against your own as he kissed you for the third time. So many more were needed to make up for lost time, but you could feel how much of himself he poured into the kisses he’d credited you with so far. The taste of his mouth on yours was indescribably intoxicating after so much time apart. 

With you sufficiently distracted, the hands that cupped your face began to migrate. You felt so small under his touch, reduced to putty in the warm expanse of his palms. His face lowered too, freeing your mouth to moan as he placed open-mouthed kisses down the length of your neck.

Involuntarily, you gasped when his fingers pinched at one of your nipples. The curve of his smile impressed upon your throat as he suckled at the sensitive skin he found there, leaving clouds of indigo behind. 

As he marked you, he rolled and tweaked your nipples in turn. Your eyes fluttered shut and you keened while your head crashed back against the pillows, “That mouth – feels s-so fucking good.” Your fingers carded through his hair, fingernails scratching lightly against his scalp; his silence broke with a shuddered moan. 

“S’all I want, baby,” He hummed as his lips trailed down from your neck and beyond your collarbone. “To make you feel good.”  

You were trembling when he claimed one of your nipples with his mouth. Then he had the audacity to look up at you from under his lashes when he released it with a lewd pop, causing your back to arch against his chest with a gasp. There was a rumble from deep within him when your grip on his hair tightened, and the sound alone made you gush. 

“To taste you,” His tongue left a wet stripe above your navel as he continued his descent, large hands dipping beneath you to squeeze the doughy flesh of your ass. Shit - you would simply never recover from this. “To devour you until you melt in my mouth.” 

Another sharp tug at his hair, another guttural moan breaking free from your chest.

How often had you dreamed of this in your time apart? How many times did you try to remember how it felt when that timbre whispered sins against your naked body? Fuck. With those words alone, he had you on the brink. 

You whined when he pulled away from you; but it quickly turned into a gasp when he hooked his arms around your thighs and dragged you with him towards the end of the bed. Now kneeling on the floor, he ducked below your knees until they rested over the tops of his shoulders. 

Face so near to your aching core, he growled, and you felt it. “I missed this pussy –” He placed a wet kiss on your inner thigh, prompting you to clench them reflexively. “I missed the way your thighs squeeze around me while you fuck yourself against my tongue.” 

Shivering, slack-jawed, and stupid, you grabbed fistfuls of the comforter below you. He was so painfully close to your cunt and still so fucking far from you. You knew he could see how badly you craved him - you’d beg for his mouth if you had to. 

Of course, you didn’t have to - you never did.

Seconds before your impatience could drive you fully insane, he was on you, tongue flat against your cunt, dragging up against your slit. When the tip of his tongue flicked over your clit, you cried out with a buck of your hips. His grip on you tightened, pinning you flush against him as he teased you. 

“That it’s, baby. Good girl.” 

It’s a miracle either one of you could form words with how relentlessly he licked, nipped, and suckled on your throbbing cunt. All you could do was babble in response to his praise – until the tip of his tongue penetrated your weeping hole, and you screamed. 

A flurry of curse words spilled from your lips; his name sprinkled in between the obscenities. Fuck, you needed more. More, more, more. You extended your arm and reclaimed your grasp on his locks. Once you did, you began to grind yourself against his tongue until your abdominal muscles burned - you hadn’t utilized them to this extent since the last time.

His hand squeezed your thigh, goading you, encouraging you to use him the way you needed to. The pressure of his tongue increased with your pace. You had no control over the sounds you made; the breathless moans escaped you before you could think of trapping them. The coil was tightening, burning red-hot in the pit of your belly. 

So good, so good, so g – 

“Fuck!” 

One by one, your muscles tensed in quick succession until your body shook violently in his grip. Toes curling, back arching, head crashing backwards into the pillows, mewling. 

When you finally gathered the strength to re-open your bleary eyes, there were spots dotting the edges of your vision – and then there was Namjoon, fuck-drunk between your weakened knees, with a mixture of his saliva and your orgasm shining on his chin. 

Lustful eyes locked squarely on your flushed face; his tongue slid from between his swollen lips to attend to the mess you’d made of him. His panting rivaled yours, but unlike you, he was still capable of speech.

“I will never – ever – get tired of watching you come,” he sighed before wiping his mouth against the back of his hand, “You’re so fucking beautiful like this.” 

As he climbed back on top of you, he placed a chaste kiss on your sweaty forehead. “So vulnerable –” Then the tip of your nose. “So vocal –” Then, too briefly, your lips. “Perfect.” 

“Joon,” You murmured against his lips. His mouth curved into a smile at the nickname, which you used almost exclusively to win arguments, or to persuade him to do something. It worked every time. 

He nudged your nose with the tip of his as he tried to conceal his laugh. “Baby?” 

The fond look in his eyes was quickly covered by fluttering eyelids as your fingertips whispered down over his chest. They snapped open and bored into you as your fingers slid over the waistband of his joggers, tracing a feather-light trail over the bulge below. You felt his cock twitch autonomously against the warmth of your palm. 

“Shit,” He hissed through gritted teeth as you squeezed him. Eyes drifting shut once again; he rolled his hips to exacerbate the friction. His neck tensed, head thrown back, when you finally dipped under the elastic and took him into your hand. Skin to skin, burning up.

The next moan from his fawning mouth was something you hadn’t heard in his voice for months – your name. “I need you. Now.” 

In the few moments he pulled away to remove his pants, a chill crept in and settled where the weight of his body had just been.

There it is again, you thought, the feeling of having him and losing him.

When this night was over and he was gone from you, would he stay that way? Should you have gone this far, knowing nothing would be different in the daylight? 

You were blinking fast when he reclaimed the space above you. Something flickered in his eye as he assessed the look on your face, but he didn’t ask. Instead, he leaned down and kissed you so gently that you could’ve imagined it – but so completely that your brain could never have fabricated it. Not successfully, anyway.

You’d already tried. 

Breaking apart once more, he reached down and stroked himself slowly. His eyes never left yours. You both held your breath as he slid into you, millimeter by millimeter, reminding your body – after all this time – how to take him. All of him, to the hilt, until you could finally exhale.

Stretched to accommodate his width, so fucking full, you saw a way out of the nothing that had you trapped like quicksand. It was him, always. Your safe haven.

Neither of you could speak once he began rolling his hips against you. The quiet was electrified by heavy breaths and whimpers. The wet heat of your cunt squelched as your walls enveloped him, just as unwilling to let him go as the rest of you.

Over and over, he grinded into you, dragging his length across your most sensitive places; hips swiveling slightly to the side as he pushed and pulled himself through you, the way he knew you liked it. 

Open mouth beside his ear, you keened and sighed, wordlessly informing him that you wouldn’t last much longer. He was perfectly attuned to your subconscious movements, and he responded to each of them without hesitation.

He’d never need to be reminded that the fingernails digging into his biceps meant faster, and the upward tilt of your jaw meant deeper. That when your eyebrows rose above your closed lids, you were seconds away from your release. 

He remembered exactly how to fuck you through your orgasm when it came – shallow, staccato thrusts that unraveled you further as you writhed against the sheets. The spot on your neck to nip at like some secret switch, praise dripping hot in your ear like honey.

“Such a good girl, squeezing me like this,” He panted, “Taking me so well – so fucking perfect for me, angel.” 

As soon as you crashed down through the atmosphere, his movements threatened to ricochet you right back into space. You keened helplessly with your half-numbed fingers gripping any part of him where they could find purchase.

“I c-can't stop -” You mewled, “How am I s-still c-coming?” 

His response didn’t come in the form of words. His lips collided with yours hard enough to clink teeth as he drove himself deeper and deeper and deeper. Sloppy, kiss-bitten lips laying claim; relentless in their mutual need for closeness. Your walls were still fluttering around him – was this your second orgasm or your third? - when he moaned into your mouth.

Every part of him tensed above, around, and inside you as the flood of his release filled every crevice of your cunt. 

Breathing ragged, his head fell into the crook of your shoulder. Considerate as ever, he tried so hard to keep his full weight off you, but his exhaustion undermined his efforts. You didn’t mind at all – you’d re-build your home there, staying forever between his body and that borrowed bed if you could. 

But you couldn’t, could you? If you felt empty before, how could you feel whole again after this? His name etched itself into your ribcage, and now your body would never re-acclimate to his absence.

Why did you do this to yourself? 

You squeezed your eyes shut tight when you felt tears prickling in their corners.  

Everything you felt for him – over the course of two years – came crashing down over you. You buried your face into his shoulder and tried your best to keep your crying to yourself.

You’d never get his scent off your body now. 

He could sense your shaking; it forced his heavy lids open. 

“I don’t know what to do with it,” you sniffled, silently begging yourself to stop. You felt yourself shrinking under his eye. It would only be a matter of time before you disappeared entirely.

His tone dripped with concern, serving only to deepen that infernal ache in the pit of your stomach. “With what?”  

“All the love I have for you. I don’t –” You sobbed, “I don’t know where to put it now.” 

His breath caught in his throat as if you’d punched him straight in the chest. If you listened hard enough, you might’ve heard his heart break. You could certainly feel it in the way he tensed in your arms.

When he moved off you, you feared the worst – that your incessant crying overflowed the bathtub, and your admission was the toaster thrown recklessly inside. But unlike the last time, he didn’t leave - and neither did you.

The mattress shifted as he claimed the space at your side - where he should have been all this time. Strong arms enveloped you as he turned to face you, and even though he held you, he couldn’t stop you from shattering.

For a while, he let you. Squeezed you hard, stroked your hair the way he used to, let you cry out all the poison that filled the spaces in the cavern of your chest.

And when you could finally breathe again, he kissed your forehead. “I’ll trade you for it.” 

(1/8/23): Check out the sequel, Redamancy, here.

[killshotbabe]

Title | Acquainted

Pairing | billionaire!Jaehyun x bodyguard!reader ft. NCT

Warnings | minors dni! slightly rude!Jaehyun, Jaehyun and reader “don’t get along”, use of swear words, brief mention of a bad injury (not to main pairing) sexual tension, solo masturbation, voyeur tendencies, fingering, face riding, choking, smut, slightly rough, unprotected sex (please wear protection!) creampie, slight breeding kink?

Word count | 4k (Got carried away oops!)

Song(s) | My All - Larissa Lambert (cover), Hopeless - Always Never

A.N | This was so goddamn long than originally planned but enjoy!

//

“Maybe you should leave.”

He suggested, cutting you off mid-sentence as you were explaining why it would better for him to take another route you’ve spent some time going over with the private personnel.

It had gone through the approval of your chief in charge as well having to have earned his full trust in the past but what you didn’t expect was for Jaehyun, your current boss in flesh, to reject your entrance and exit plans for the upcoming 50th charity ball he’s going to be attending in a few in two weeks.

The charity ball that was supposed to be tended by his father but after suffering what happens to be his third stroke, he made an ultimate decision to pass his head of position down to his only son, Jaehyun, who’s going to eventually earn it anyway by the time his father succumbs into old age and eventually die and be buried six feet under but due to his worsening health, Jaehyun officially took over.

Not one blinked an eye after such huge announcement has been made.

Some would say it’s a bit “pre-mature” you think, but it was the only right thing to do.

After all, no one wanted the Jung Empire to crumble into its last feet and from what you heard, Jaehyun is quite popular despite being the youngest from the line-up of old, obnoxious balding men.

It wasn’t like as if he preferred to live a different life — he had the option to do so, but he’s always wanted to follow his father’s footsteps since the very young age. He went from eavesdropping to his father’s meetings behind the door, and sometimes he would bring his toy cars into his father’s study and sit on the plush carpet as his father spoke to the phone, ball point always on-hand, glass of wine to the side. Jaehyun did this for as long as he can remember until they began to fit him into custom tailored suits to wear when he goes to his father’s meetings with him or without him which he had been tending to for the past few months, so this was not something new to him.

The new thing, though, was you being appointed his new private bodyguard due to the increasing tension coming from the outsiders who are threatened by Jaehyun’s sudden take-over. From what you do know, they have been keeping an eye on his father since the news of his illness (which the private sector has tried to keep in the shadows) leaked to the press, spiking gossips and rumours from nobodies. This also caused a major rift, threatening the future of the company Mr. Jung has been taking a great care of for decades, and even if he may be the nicest person in the world of business — he’s more prone to having enemies waiting for him to fall apart and now that Jaehyun has begun his long journey as the new head of The Jung enterprise, a new target has now been placed on the back of his head.

All was left is for him to try and dodge the bullet with your help, of course.

But that wasn’t going to happen easily — not when he’s not been a good sport to you.

At first, you thought he was just getting used to being the new chairman so you decided to back off and let him take a breather, but soon you find out he does have a rather mean streak and preferred to be alone and do everything alone. He doesn’t really speak to anyone at home too. You would see him chat with the head maid from time to time and maybe greet the security and other staff guarding his home but that was about it, he had no close relationship with them even if they worked with him and Mr. Jung for a while, which you find quite sad, but it was still none of your business.

You’ve only been here for around two weeks and you do reside in his home as well, but it did feel like you lived else where.

His luxurious house — composed of a total of four levels, shiny marbled floors and expensive hand-picked art adoring the wide plains of the black tourmaline walls felt rather strange to you. It was often quiet whenever you walked into the hallway at the dead of the night with the occasional swoosh from the french windows gracing your sharp hearing. You’ve only spent an ample of time doing security checks around his home but you haven’t been to any specific rooms even if you do memorize the entire floor plan and know which room is which, including the hidden underground bunker built into the house which you hope you wouldn’t end up using at all if shit does hit the fan.

Other than yourself, the security and the rest of the morning staff do not reside in his home but in a separate complex nearby so technically, it was just you and Jaehyun confined in such a huge space.

Mr. Jung lived somewhere else which you have been once or twice but compared to your first impression to both, you’d rather stay at Mr. Jung’s just because it felt like someone was actually living there and you don’t really mind the smell of tobacco. Here, at Jaehyun’s however, didn’t feel like that at all. You wouldn’t even know if he’s at home if the cctv didn’t notify you of his arrival (and your phone too because you can actually track his whereabouts) or until you see a faint light from his study or anywhere else really.

Jaehyun didn’t like keeping bright lights on so his house appeared to be more eerie and colder when the sun is no longer in the horizon. You got used to it rather quickly though. It was peaceful, maybe too peaceful for your taste but it’s better than sleeping at your old apartment where the next door neighbours would often fight, their harsh words penetrating your thin walls, and plus, the head chef and maid cooks great food. You couldn’t complain about that when you have been given the chance to not worry about any groceries anymore to keep you alive and kicking.

You like to think you’ve hit a jackpot since accepting this newly-appointed job: to be Jaehyun’s second eyes and iron shield and you thought it was simple but things were never simple.

Life didn’t work like that but at the very least, you’re alive and breathing.

At least I’m alive and breathing.

You chanted like a mantra as you forced a lump in your throat, still holding your ground in front of Jaehyun who made no effort to even took at you in the eye.

“Jaehyun.”

You try again, stressing that he needs to approve your plan before you can fuck off the premises which you’ve been wanting do the moment you stepped a heeled foot into his spacious study. If it wasn’t for the low murmur of jazz playing softly from the turntable close to his mahogany desk, you would’ve yelled at him by now but you chose not to.

You pride yourself as his main bodyguard and you didn’t want him to treat you like some doormat.

“Didn’t you hear what I said?” He flipped through a couple of pages from a stack of papers he’s been reviewing for God knows how long and there was more, but he kept it tidy and very organized, and yet you can’t help but feel his mind may not be the same right at this moment. “I said no.”

“You could end up in a bad situation. Had you not realize your enemies are trying to threaten you lately?” You say, tone coming off stern than how you’d like it to be. “Have you not been noticing the extra security we’ve been adding for you this past week?”

He paused, sighing and you think you may have won a little but if anything, you just pissed him off even more.

“Just do whatever the fuck you want, alright? Your job is to protect me so take it upon yourself and move. No need to run it by me.”

You fought not to grit your teeth, composure still straight. “Well, you could’ve just said yes to begin with. Easy as that and I would be out the door.”

“Your plan has too many unnecessary changes.” He began to type on the keyboard, still not sparing you a glance. “I don’t like it but whatever makes you sleep at night.”

“I’m doing this for you.” You reminded, ready to turn your back to him and out. “A simple “yes” would’ve been easy and I follow a protocol which involves me to ask you for an approval first. Like it or not, this is in my contract and you, out of everyone else here, should know. Have good evening, Sir.”

You found yourself out of his study just like that and made your way to your room wanting to take a cold shower after your useless exchange with Jaehyun.

When you were gone, all he did was lean his head over his leather seat, eyes fluttering close with an exasperated sigh leaving his lips.

For the next week ahead of the charity ball event he’s sponsoring as one of the main ambassadors, you stuck by him always walking three steps ahead to clear the area before it’s deemed safe for him to move. You and your team stayed alert and hot on heels, especially when there have been a surge of crowds garnering for him and it did nothing but bring stress to you and your team. Not only had the threats against him and his family empire had gone worse, but his own “fangirls” as well.

You thought it was over once you and Jaehyun make it back home until you found two young girls that couldn’t be younger than eighteen taking pictures of the car he has used on the way back from a meeting.

The meeting was short and it was his only schedule this afternoon so you didn’t tag along but still dispatched two personnel from your team to be with him so you can finish your annual report your chief wants you to complete before the end of this week. It was by chance actually — you typing away with the security panel on your other screen when a lone taxi drove by the gates two times. Anything more than that was deemed suspicious you had to watch carefully and soon enough, you found yourself outside with girls’ camera on your hand which you had confiscated.

You recognized one of them as one of the socialite’s daughter which you do consider as a major threat — The Chois were just as powerful but they haven’t been on their A-game lately especially when they’re competing with Jaehyun.

You drummed your hand on top of the taxi’s roof, peering closer to the girls who are now blinking owlishly at you. One of them looking like they’re about to pee their pants after seeing your gun holstered to your belt loop.

“Are you girls here to see Jaehyun? He doesn’t give autographs.” You joked, other hand sifting through the gallery of their DSLR. “Do you guys work for some damn magazine I don’t know about?”

“No—um we,” The bleached blonde one stuttered as you deleted all of the shots they got of Jaehyun’s. “We’re fans of his…”

“Well, what do you know about him?” You raised a brow, satisfied with your neat work but refused to give it back to them yet. “Last time I checked he’s just some really powerful billionaire dude… Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

The brunette smacked the blonde’s one knee, attempting to stop her from responding to you and further reveal why they’re here to begin with. She did know who you are and you being a total cutthroat by your poise and how you held yourself whenever you’re with Jaehyun and she was scared of you, truly.

“We… won’t be back here anymore. I’m sorry.” She begged, round eyes trying to make you feel pity even if you already know the way she behaved whenever she’s there on sight when she’s not supposed to. “Please give the camera back to us…”

But you didn’t make it easy. If it’s not for their family then it’s possible that they’re working with whatever media outlet is after Jaehyun too.

Nonetheless, you decide to give the camera back considering it wasn’t chipped or anything which you checked before you cleared all of Jaehyun’s pictures.

“If I see you two out here again, you better stop what you’re doing and if you’re working for someone, put an end to it.” You tossed them the camera with a glare. “I’ll let you go this time but I won’t next time, then you’ll wish you never met me at all.”

The girls nodded quickly, blood draining off their faces as they begged for the taxi driver to floor it. You wait until they’re out of sight before heading back, meeting Jungwoo, one of the security personnel, on your way in to the foyer.

“Just some girls.” You shrug. You do make a note to do some more research about them later though. “Is he upstairs?”

“Yeah. He said he was going to sleep so I’m leaving now and rot out there. Don’t tell him I stole an orange from the kitchen.”

He grinned, showing you the round fruit in his palm.

Jungwoo was a new addition too, but you do think he built a better relationship with Jaehyun considering the fact that you caught them joking around at one point and you think that wasn’t fair.

You couldn’t blame Jungwoo though. He’s super chill and smiled a lot unlike you with your permanent scowl embedded in your face. It did bother you from time to time, but your relationship with Jaehyun has gone to shit since the beginning (for a reason you don’t know) and you think it’s because he just doesn’t like having a tail following him around even if the nature of his work required one.

To this day, you have already accepted your fate when it came to him. You were here not become his friend after all, and you can tell he sure he feels the same way.

Work was work and you had a contract to fulfil until then. You weren’t here for the sake of having your feelings involved.

“Bold of you to assume he’d notice.” You smiled, sending him away. “Just help yourself whenever!”

“K! Have a good rest of the afternoon! Mark also says he’ll be late for security check!”

“Got it!”

Once you heard the front doors shut, you climb back upstairs and back to you room to resume where you left off. By 7:30 pm, you find yourself waking up from an accidental nap you took in the middle of conducting your report. You cursed and planned to do your finishing touches but not without a cup of newly-brewed coffee on your side so you find yourself in the main kitchen, helping yourself up when the head maid padded down the hall, calling your name upon seeing you.

“Have you eaten yet?” She halted just beside you as you stirred a spoon into your coffee. “You can’t be drinking that without eating anything? I made mushroom soup for dinner. Made steak too with potatoes.”

“Maybe later I will, thanks.” You smiled sheepishly as you take a sip from your mug. “I just had a snack so…”

“You could’ve just joined Jaehyun earlier.” She whispered, teasing you with a pinch on your elbow which caused you break into a sudden yelp. “He looked really tense…Almost felt bad for the steak.”

You shook your head, placing your cup on the counter, folding your arms to mimic the head maid.

“Isn’t he always?”

“True, but he just looks lonely being alone there I keep wondering why you two won’t just eat together.”

You could only shrug, the visual of him sitting alone eating dinner in a huge table wracking your brain.

“We don’t get along.”

“Oh c’mon…” The older lady rolled her eyes at your predicament. “I’m getting real sick of watching the two of you avoiding each other like the black plague unless you’re out to chaperone him. We thought you’d would work especially when you’re around his age, and I know he can be a pain in the ass but why not try with him? This house is too damn big already.”

“You know I’m just here for work…” You murmur, letting her words affect you a little anyway because she was the only one who could sense how you really felt no matter how many times you voluntarily plunged yourself in denial.

You remember the first time they introduced you to him just a couple of weeks go.

It was on sunny day and the start of fall. You always liked fall because there’s always a positive shift in the air even if it slowly got colder. You like to think of it as letting go of the dead things you can no longer care, or hold closely to your heart that you’ve wanted to get rid of as your life went by.

From your old position to becoming Jaehyun’s bodyguard did raise a lot of new opportunities and new surroundings as it required you to move to his place. You were giddy and quite excited, wanting to leave you former apartment situated in busy area from not-so-good side of the city. The raise was also splendid— you think if you keep this position for one year you’d be able to buy a better apartment elsewhere and have a whole space for yourself and you know you will eventually get there.

But what you didn’t really expect was how rude Jaehyun had treated you since the beginning.

When you were introduced to him by your chief, all he did was nod and went on his day with you tailing after him as you shadowed his old bodyguard days before they were to be dispatched overseas permanently. It was nice when the bodyguard was there until you woke up in his shoes, now calling all shots and leading the whole team which had been exhilarating at first, but you knew your capabilities and thought highly of yourself, even if Jaehyun doesn’t really acknowledge or has ever initiated a conversation when you’re alone in a room with him.

You can’t really pinpoint what his deal was — you thought he might be misogynistic but that wasn’t the case. There were women in your team and he treated any woman no different like how he treated the rest, at least from what you noticed. You didn’t want to confront him about it as well seeing that it might just sound dumb and too far-fetched but your gut have been telling you there’s more to it. You just didn’t know how to approach him about it, not when he’s too busy and has other priorities to tend to than listen to what you have to say concerning your feelings.

He doesn’t even like the plans and changes you make for him regarding his entire safety, what more about how you really feel?

But you were still a human being and you know you will be treated as such so eventually, you’ll bring it up but not today, not anytime soon at least.

“And work it is…But try to get along, okay? I may not be here all the time but I can sense the sour atmosphere whenever I clean up.”

You chuckled, leering close to her. “Maybe it’s just the dead souls buried under the house trying to get your attention…”

“Hey, don’t say stuff like young lady! You know how superstitious I can get.” She backs off you, not liking the fact that you just brought up “ghosts”. “…Maybe I’ll sage the entire house the next time you guys are away again! Don’t want Jaehyun to smell it and complain.”

“I don’t think he’ll care. He hasn’t been to anywhere else but his floor lately.” You laugh, placing your hand on the shorter woman’s shoulder. “So do it anytime. I like the smell of it.”

“Fine, I will. Just because I like you like that.” She pats your hand, thanking you for your little massage before sending you off with your coffee. “And don’t ditch dinner!”

You make sure to eat around midnight, completely lost in you report.

You ate more than you could possibly take in one sitting but didn’t care if it was going to give you a stomach ache which you had attempted to sleep off, but around 3 am, you find yourself unable to go back to bed so naturally, you sat upright and leaned against your headboard, laptop on-hand and see if you maybe watch one of those scary indie games on youtube.

You found them weirdly comforting and often watched them but before you could put one on and have it lull you back to bed, the live footage of Jaehyun’s dim-lit room suddenly flashed into your screen in full-size.

You can’t help but panic a little since you were not supposed to watch him at such ungodly hour. You were given this specific access from hours 6-9 pm. That was the arrangement, but it didn’t mean your master access would disable the live feed during after hours. You have full control of it so it was all up to you, and it’s not like someone is actually keeping track of how many times you’d watch him, not when his room is only for your eyes and nobody else’s.

You were just about to hover your mouse to the top right corner of your screen and exit out of the window when he stirred in his sleep, calling your attention. Not even a couple of seconds later he, too, sat up and leaned against the headboard, mimicking your current position.

You raised a brow, feeling a little intimate with the current situation — he’s literally sitting there with his eyes closed and he had no shirt on, showing you what was hiding beneath his usual suit jacket.

You blinked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes before you found yourself peering closer, unable to take your eyes off him and his bare skin riddled with great abs. You knew he did work-out but still…

“What the fuck am I doing…” You shook your head in utter disbelief, feeling like a total creep now. “I should probably go to sleep.”

You smack yourself on the cheek and tried to exit out of the window when your peripheral vision caught him slide his hand under his blanket, palming himself with closed eyes, a serene look on his face.

You suddenly forgot how to breathe.

Your pupils practically quivered when he parted his pretty lips just slightly so he could spit on his hand before rubbing his bare cock with it again and again for you to see, instantly making you snap your thighs together as you became more hyperaware of what he was doing in front of you. You tried so hard to look away from the screen, shut your laptop close and forget this ever happened but you simply couldn’t look away — not when he just pulled the comforter down to his knees, revealing his hard cock — standing upright, hypnotizing you to come closer and see which you did, jaw going slack upon realizing he was, in fact, big too.

You watched him give himself a few generous pumps before he laid back down, a half-grin on his face as he continued to fuck himself in his fist. You like to think he’d made a sound from what you’re seeing and it only did nothing but make you wet, your arousal already soiling your underwear as you forced yourself not to do anything about it at all. You think you should feel any ounce of guilt right now, having to watch a very private moment, but your head had gone to mush and you just couldn’t bring your hand to exit out of the feed.

He was too beautiful, fucking himself into his fist like that with a lazy smile gracing his face — the type of smile you’ve never seen him do in person.

Oh, you wished you’d be the one making him feel good like that..

As he rutted himself into his fist, on the way to reach his peak, you found yourself snaking your hand between your legs now spreading it wide in front of the feed. You swore at how incredibly sensitive and soaked you’ve become as you moved your thong to the side, biting your lip when you smeared your wetness all over your aching pussy before eventually sliding two fingers in, your eyes blown with nothing but pure desire as you watched Jaehyun attentively, slowly pumping your fingers inside you in the same rhythm he was going.

When he eventually did come, rewarding you with spurts of his cum landing on his toned abs, you did too, with your hand clamping around your mouth to prevent yourself from moaning too loud.

He went back to bed like that, his expression so peaceful as you tried to catch your breath, your own wetness slipping out of your cunt and on to your bedsheet between your trembling legs.

You didn’t sleep that night.

The morning hours before the commencement of the charity ball, you begrudgingly delivered Jaehyun’s three piece navy suit to his study thinking he wasn’t inside but at the rooftop pool.

Much to your horror, however, he was in fact inside his study and he was shirtless with just some grey sweats hanging low to his hips, jet black hair combed backwards and still damp from the shower he just took. You almost dropped the neatly-wrapped black box onto the floor when he advanced to your side to retrieve his phone from his desk. You cleared your throat, backing off. “It’s from Prada.”

“Yeah, and you were supposed to pick them up, right?”

You stopped on your heel, halfway his wing already. You didn’t think he’d catch on to be honest. You knew you were supposed to pick it up for him but because you didn’t get any sleep, you ended up sleeping in for a couple more hours until Mark, one of the night personnel, knocked on your door to pass you his daily report after he couldn’t find you somewhere in the ground floor.

“I’m sorry. I just missed my alarm.”

You lied, hoping he would just let it go. You didn’t even think he’d care about it at all. It’s not like you overslept the entire day and completely forgot about your tasks today.

You thought about him last night again, a flush of warmth creeping on your cheeks but you fought to push those sinful thoughts away.

“Well, don’t be late next time then?” He turned his back to you so he can open the box and examine what’s inside.

You scoffed, trying to look away from his nicely-sculpted back muscles and proceeded to be on your way out when he suddenly called your name for the first time since the first day you’ve been appointed to be his bodyguard.

It caught you off-guard for a second there but you refused to provide him with any type of reaction when you spun around and met his eyes.

He has an unreadable expression on his face — something you couldn’t quite read but it did nothing but make your heartbeats pump faster than normal.

He leaned his hips to his desk, lean and muscular arms perched behind him to the flat surface.

“You have a good eye, do you?”

You raised a brow, trying so hard not to cast your gaze from his neck and down south, his grey sweats mocking you. It was the same one he wore last night.

“… Maybe?” You trailed off, not that confident like he presumed you to be with your chin high, eyes almost as dark as the evening sky and your signature red lipstick painted perfectly on your lips.

You somehow didn’t have that on today like the usual and your long black hair, always pinned and tied, just flowing smoothly on your back.

He sensed there was something off, but he liked the look you sported today. It made you look younger and innocent-looking.

He wasn’t going to lie, it did tickle his fancy.

“Then come by later and help me choose what looks good.”

You feel his wondering eyes scrutinize you for the first time, and you couldn’t help but stay still, not breathing at all until he turned around and disappeared into a corner of his study, leaving you stranded in the middle of it all.

For how many times you wished he’d learn to acknowledge you, you now sincerely hoped he never did because with the way he was looking at you just now, you couldn’t help but feel there is something else in those dark brown eyes.

Whatever it was, you think you wouldn’t be ready for it.

//

“We’re taking my route.”

You announce as you got on the passenger side with Jungwoo behind the wheel.

You’re on your way to the charity ball right now with Jaehyun on his phone, conversation seemingly boring but you still listened, taking notes.

He’s put on a patterned suit jacket instead of the navy one Prada brought for him and he looked too gorgeous in it like he always did but today, you think this might be your favourite look of his so far — jet black hair pushed back with a strand falling on his forehead, his neck adorned with a dainty silver necklace accentuating his regality… You were quite bummed you didn’t end up choosing anything for him due to an emergency meeting he had to be a part of when he was getting ready too so you chose to take your time getting ready instead, picking a total of three outfits you’ve laid to your bed before eventually gunning for the satin number in ivory.

You like to think you didn’t do so bad yourself too. If not, this has been the most dressed you’ve been for this type of occasion. You think you could get used to this at some point but it was still a little overwhelming for you.

You didn’t like being a part crowds reeking of nothing but money and gin, and chatting with any socialites at all even if you had to just because you’re Jaehyun’s bodyguard. You wished you had Jungwoo’s or Johnny’s post, only situated up the corridors hiding from plain sight to watch for any suspicious and unusual activity. You had to be more alert for it, but at least they stayed in the shadows unlike what you’re going to be doing once you and Jaehyun arrive to the ball.

“Don’t keep a long distance but stray closer to him, alright?” Your chief instructed at least two days before the event. “Just received a note from the sector and said someone from there might try to harm him, so be on the look out. I’m sending more back up in case.”

Saying you’re not that nervous might be an understatement.

You practically shivered on your way out of the car, cursing at the lack of clothing you wore for the event. You did have an option to wear slacks, but you wanted to wear a dress this time around since slacks was your regular uniform, and you wanted to look like you’d blend into this type of crowd as well, not wanting to stand out like a sore thumb (which you already do) but least you could do is pretend.

Pretend that you’re a socialite for once and what chief said, “Act like his equally rich girlfriend.”

“I’m off. Rendezvous in…three hours?” Jungwoo hummed as Jaehyun took off, leaving you with Jungwoo by the staircase. You scoffed. “And…he’s off. Ugh, tell him not stay here for more than three or i’ll eat my fucking fist.”

“Make it two and a half. I hate shit like this.” You sighed, waving him off. “See ya. Don’t fall asleep.”

“Ay-ay Captain!”

Midway into the charity event, you started to yawn as you watched Jaehyun having a pleasant conversation with a group of older men, some of them without an arm candy or if they did have one, they were from the overseas — all tanned and blonde with a variety of luxurious brands all over their outfit.

You thought they were rather tacky so you looked away, reaching for another flute of champagne to get rid of the nasty taste of some fancy snack you tried earlier. Something about an “escargot,” which caused Jungwoo to cackle devilishly from your earbud before translating what you just ate.

You felt like gagging, hating the thought of snails being digested in you right now but since you couldn’t leave Jaehyun alone as he continued his rounds to mingle with every damn guest in the room, you had no choice but to suck it up and hope the champagne can help get rid of the taste.

You could only stand there, watching everyone like a hawk before your gaze eventually fell on Jaehyun who was casually smiling to a girl dressed in dainty blue chiffon, accentuating her slim build.

She was cute, couldn’t be younger than him and she’s patting him on the chest now, getting a little brave with her manicured hands.

“Butter knife just arrived.”

You cupped the earbud plugged in your ear, still keeping an eye on Jaehyun.

“He’s here? Jungwoo, is he alone?”

“No… wait— Johnny says there’s one more coming from south. White van — fuck, it’s Sanchez!” There was a harsh whisper on the other side. “You have to get Jaehyun out of there.”

“He’s fucking surrounded with girls, I just— continue reporting to me I’m getting him out now.”

You suppress the panic surging through your veins as you slowly approach Jaehyun now being flocked around by female socialites right in the middle of the ballroom.

“I don’t think anyone is suspicious in the ball right now — Yuta said but just, yeah get him out. Chief found Sanchez being a part of the Amos cartel. He’s a fucking traitor.”

“Yeah, I know. They’ve been on the radar for days. They’re invited aren’t they?”

You stop by your tracks before you proceed, finding a small gap between several bodies you can snake through and hopefully get Jaehyun out of there soon.

“Yeah. They’re under that old bastard, Brekker, so leave. Jaehyun did his talk part anyway.” Jungwoo snapped. “Mark is waiting right in front of your exit, right behind Centennial. Go.”

And so you did, now latching a hand around Jaehyun’s wrist, pulling him out of the growing crowd and into you.

“Sorry, ladies. Judgment calls!”

He waved, a little tipsy as you dragged him towards your left exit and into the hall, not letting him walk on his own without you tugging his hand.

You whipped your head around, noticing Jeno one of the back-up posted up far away from your left. You share a brief nod before you proceed to one of the shortcuts which led to a narrow dim-lit hall, dragging Jaehyun behind you, his hand now clasped around your wrist.

“Wait, wait— slow down!” He half-yelled, unable to catch on.

“No, we keep going and I’ll tell you after. Just let me do this, okay?” He was about to say something else when you called Jungwoo, using your free hand to tell him to shut it. “Jeno’s on watch. Is Chenle okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about that kid. Are you almost out? Should take you no more than two minutes.”

“Yeah,” You walked hastily as Jaehyun jogged beside you. “I got Jaehyun with me. Will be out soon.”

“Okay, okay great you’re almost there and — what? Who?” There was a murmur and a static noise interrupting you conversation which caused your brows to furrow but you kept going, the sight of one of the unused doors just a couple of steps ahead of you.

“Shit! Hey, you guys keep going. I’ll call you later.”

You blinked rapidly, free hand fixed to your earphone. “What? No — what the hell?” You grumbled but let it go as you made it out of the building with Jaehyun who’s now looking at you, noticing your worry but decided to leave it be until you found yourselves on the backseat of Mark’s car.

“Jungwoo just ditched me and I don’t know what the hell is happening inside.” You pushed Jaehyun to the side, your arm fixed to his lap as you spoke to Mark, now exiting the back alleyway and into a different route avoiding the main street. “You got any updates?”

“They’re saying one of Amos’ people got into the corridor.” Mark said, eyes focused of the road. “Chenle found him but he wasn’t alone. He should be fine though, I trust him.”

“But who’s on that floor? We made a last minute change just earlier.”

“Renjun — hey, strap yourself up though I’m about to speed so we can get off the intersection. Don’t worry about the guys.” He said rather sternly to try and get your mind off the gutter but something felt wrong and you can feel it in your gut — and you were always right.

“You have to tell me when Jungwoo’s on.”

You sigh in defeat, still quite tense when you felt Jaehyun tug your seatbelt for you, coaxing you to slide it without saying anything on which you eventually did. You were so glad he didn’t even bother interjecting but kept quiet, letting you and Mark talk and fill in the creeping silence.

You muttered a “thanks” to Jaehyun but made sure to stay alert until Mark gets any updates or maybe yourself, but for some reason you had a feeling it wasn’t going to come to you.

//

“There has been a break-in the corridor. Surveillance team are okay, and Chenle’s in the ER. Cops are on site. Had to get everyone out of there but no one sustained any bad injuries. Chief’s on duty and says you did a good job. They will control the press when this gets out.”

Mark closed the door behind him, eyes on his phone. You swore under your breath and started to pace around of the hotel room you had booked in advanced when something like this takes place.

You thought of Chenle and clenched your jaw, glaring at Mark.

“It’s not your fault. He just miscalculated. Assailant went for his leg.”

“With a knife?” You exhaled and sat back down, Jaehyun just on the other bed, gaze falling on you and a slightly nervous Mark who couldn’t help but loosen his tie. “Please tell me it was a damn knife and it wasn’t deep.”

“Yeah, a little deep but he’ll live. Hey.” Mark squatted now as he levelled with your gaze with his. “I promise I’ll update you but I’ve gotta meet up with Jungwoo and Johnny and check surveillance around the compound, alright?”

“Yeah… Go, I’m sorry but please, please update me about Chenle, okay?”

“Will do. I know he’s your fave just because he’s the youngest. He’ll be okay. Yeah? Mark smiled, tapping your knee attempting to sooth you. “If he finds out you were so worried about him it might get to his head so simmer it down and try to get rest.”

“Okay…”

You watched Mark leave into the hallway as the door automatically closed, trapping you and Jaehyun in a hushed silence.

It didn’t fully sink in that you were alone with him in one room until he voluntarily broke the silence, tiredness in his deep voice so evident.

“Who was it this time?”

You slowly twisted your torso to face him.

“Brekker.”

“I trust that he’ll soon find himself behind the bars by you, right?”

His eyes remained closed as you slowly found yourself tracing the outline of his black slacks and all the way to his patterned suit jacket, and finally, his peaceful riddled face — the exact one you saw through the live feed last night as he gave you a slice of heaven.

A scarlet hue spread on your cheeks. He looked like he just jumped out of photoshoot whilst you sat there, looking a little out of it, dress semi-wrinkled and with your lipstick drying out into the cracks, eventually making it ooze out some blood. You rubbed a finger across it, flinching from the sting.

“We’re working on it and trying our best.”

You say a little quietly as your ear perked up to his relaxed “hmm”.

You attempted to distract yourself from the sheer worry coursing through you, so you decide to get up and head to the en suite bathroom to wash the minimal make up from your face and only slipped out after a quick bath, wearing a spare night wear as you darted back into the now dim-lit room, seeing Jaehyun had already fallen asleep in the same clothes.

You could only exhale, feeling like you’ve been holding your breath for so long.

You gave him a slow glance as you occupied the other bed adjacent to his, sliding yourself further to the other side of your bed before you switched your phone on to read two new messages from Mark. Chenle was still okay, but he will have to be confined in the hospital for a few days due to a nasty blow he endured by the ribs requiring immediate treatment.

You sighed, texting him back and Jungwoo before you placed your phone back on the bedside table, leaving the yellow glow from the lamp next to you, gradually lulling you to sleep.

You woke up at 3 am, all parched so you went for a drink then back to bed. You couldn’t go back to sleep, however, which resulted in a series of rolls and turns trying to find a position you’d be comfortable sleeping at.

“Can’t sleep?”

You gasped, back fully turned from a sleepy Jaehyun lying somewhere in the darkness.

Was he awake this whole time watching and hearing you struggle?

“I think.”

You pulled your comforter over your shoulder, now awake, glazed eyes staring up the ceiling. You traced the victorian details on the ceiling above you as you hear Jaehyun move.

From your peripheral vision, you can see the outline of his arm, his long sleeve now rolled up to his forearm, making you clench your jaw.

“You’re still thinking about Chenle?”

There was a genuine concern on his tone, which surprised you, but after what happened today, you knew he couldn’t afford to make you feel like you want to shoot yourself in the head, and if he hadn’t, you’re not sure if you’d even let him sleep. You could fight him if he did try to frustrate you more but this wasn’t bad — the calm was good. It soothed you even if you felt like you were about to cry earlier because of what happened to Chenle, though you did keep in mind that this was your first.

Just as long as they’re safe…

“A bit.” You chewed on your bottom lip. “He’s the youngest… I think I’d go crazy if something happened to him.”

“But he’s okay. And that’s all that matters, right?”

“Yeah.” You swallowed a lump in your throat, your back still facing him.

You could feel him stare at you now and it did nothing but send goosebumps all over your skin.

There was a suffocating silence that seemed to last for eternity and you thought you’d be able to just force yourself back to sleep somehow until you hear Jaehyun talk again.

“You did a good job today.”

His words alone made you blink owlishly.

You thought you were going to melt right there and then and you, so badly, want to hear him say that again than deal with his usual condescending tone but you couldn’t be greedy.

“Do you hate me?”

You asked out of blue, seeing as this might be the only right time you could have a heart-to-heart with him. The both of you are stuck in one small space after all.

You didn’t need to find him and vice versa, so you went for it after a sudden bravery shot up into the surface.

But he didn’t answer.

You were about to repeat yourself again when he cut you off.

“Maybe.”

“Really?” You scoffed, tongue poking to the side of your mouth. “You never really acknowledge me, you know?”

He was quiet as you tensed up, continuing on with your little rant anyway now that you had suddenly developed the nerve to try to find out what his deal was and why he seemed to not be fond of you at all.

“Since the day we met… We don’t eat together…We live in one house and yet—“

“I don’t think you want to know.”

Upon hearing him say that, you pulled yourself up from your bed, fists falling to your side as you stared at him in the dark. You could make out his face and everything else. It didn’t even seem like he moved any muscle at all, so you allow him to bask in his short-lived peace before you stood by the foot of his bed, fury embedded in your eyes.

“Don’t you have some basic human decency?” You try not to lose it. “You treat every body else nice but when it comes to me…”

“Don’t start.” He warned, still laying down but he’s now staring back at you, his dark eyes penetrating yours in an endless battle you drew upon yourselves.

“I want to know why and you will tell me.” You declared, not taking what he said as a warning. “Right. Now. Jaehyun.”

“You really want to have this conversation right now?” He was back on his feet now, towering over you as he inched closer to you, a bite of sheer frustration and anger in his next words. “You just piss me off. I didn’t want you.”

“Did I even do anything to you for you to hate me?” You barked back, chin up high as you attempt to stand your ground but you soon found yourself backing away as he continued to advance, threatening to trap you. “I don’t get you at all! I’m the best from the recruits and I don’t care if you have little faith on me—“

“I don’t care if you’re the best.” He jammed a hand just above your head, caging you against the cold wall. “But your chief shouldn’t have given you to me.”

“Why not? God, just stop being fucking cryptic and tell me!’ You yelled, one hand pushing him off by his chest only for him to grab your hand and spin you around, your cheek meeting the wall with a small gasp knocked out from your chest as he locked your arm behind you.

“You’re a lot. Fiery and always held your chin high no matter what. Makes me want to mess you up a little.” He rested his chin on your tensed shoulder, his next words in a light whisper, and yet it had venom, poisoning your bloodstream. “Calling all the shots, bossing me around, trying to fight me while you look like this?”

You let out a wanton gasp when you feel his callused hand run up and down your inner thigh, his intoxicating, manly warm scent invading your senses.

You think you might have blacked out for a moment when his warm hand made its way to the curve of your waist, the soft material of your camisole being lifted by his fingers as he rubbed your bare skin, his darkened gaze attentive to the pleased expression you made for him.

“Jaehyun—“

“Do you understand now?” You feel his plush lips brush your nape, his hand snaking all the way up your skin. “I thought I could get rid of you without having to do anything, thinking one day you’ll just walk out and leave but you stayed. Then I catch you touching yourself in your room a couple of times because you couldn’t be bothered to shut the fucking door close. You know I’m home.”

You feel your pussy throb as he proceeded to grope your bare breasts, fingers playing with your hardened nipples. “You keep doing it so many times I was starting to think you’re fucking crazy.”

You genuinely thought he wouldn’t be able to find out knowing he doesn’t lurk in your floor — but now you know he does and maybe, there was always this sick fantasy you kept to yourself, thinking that one day he’d catch on and have it all figured out. It was only a matter of time until he can pin you to the wall like now, and have him ruin you when he hates you so much, might as well use that to intensify the obvious sexual tension between the two of you with no romantic feelings involved.

Or…was there?

“I think you want to pursue this for me to fuck you like I hate you, yeah?” He chided, a low chuckle gracing your ear. “Answer.”

“I—“

“What happened to being confident?” You let out a small whine as he palmed your clothed cunt. “If I find you wet, you lose sweetheart.”

He didn’t even let you speak as he slipped his fingers into your underwear, rubbing your clit in circles. You can feel the sudden rush of wetness ooze out of your pussy, soaking the fabric and you couldn’t help but groan, your face heating up.

“Jaehyun… Please…”

You moaned, struggling with the way he has pushed you further down, back arched for him as he continued to play with your pussy, the hard ridge of his cock in his slacks grinding on your ass.

“You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes…” You huffed, any ounce of anger being replaced by pure arousal surging through every part of your body. You don’t even think you could say anything as you attempt to tighten your legs around his hand, not wanting to come right there and then when he hasn’t even plunged a finger or two but he didn’t waste time, cutting you off as he eventually pumped a finger into your pulsating cunt, earning a matching groan of relief from the both of you.

“You’re so fucking wet.” He grinned deviously as you cried onto your arm, muffling the loud moans trying to escape from your throat. “Bet you can come without me fucking my cock into you.”

“F-fuck!” You screamed, eyes clamped shut when he rammed his fingers into you faster, building a steady rhythm until your legs started to shake under your weight, already about to reach your peak when he noticed, cursing at the way you would repeatedly squeeze your walls around his fingers.

“Do you wanna do me a favour?”

He kissed the side of your jaw as you shuddered beneath him, mouth hanging open but no sound threatening to spill out. You thought he has successfully rendered you speechless as your gaze started to blur, teardrops sliding down your rosy cheeks from how good he was giving it to you.

“Sit on my face.”

You almost came on his fingers after he said that if it wasn’t for how fast he slid his fingers out of you to drag you to his bed.

You literally collapsed on his chest as you weakly spread your thighs a part, his strong arms helping you out as he urged you to hover on top of him before he slipped your clothes and underwear off, letting it fall on the carpet.

Once you braced your hands on the headboard, a pinch of hesitation wracking your nerves, you feel him raise his head willingly and push your bare pussy into his waiting mouth, sucking and licking your surging wetness from your pussy, feeling like you’re about to explode.

“Jaehyun— f-fuck, right there…”

You hissed, knuckles turning white on the headboard as he slipped his tongue inside your hole, fucking you with his jaw flexing, hands tight around your waist you were so sure he was going to leave a mark. You fucked his face ruthlessly, him being the most eager one who kept pushing you down and down until he his tongue jutted in and out, licking your slick walls before he lapped onto your clit, ultimately bringing you to the brink of an intense orgasm about to knock you down.

You came in his face in no time, a loud cry leaving your lips as you shuddered violently, wanting to get off his face due to over-sensitivity but he forced you to sit still, his plush mouth tasting the mess you’ve made for him, his free hand cupping his hard cock in his slacks.

You clutched your chest, unable to contain how fast your heartbeats were as you tried to calm down, sliding off him. He unbuttoned his dress shirt, eyes on you, his now moist mouth where your pussy has been, spreading into a contented smile which you lazily returned. You sat there, mouth agape as you watch him unzip his pants, palming his cock right in front of you.

“Come here.”

You crawled to him, his hand reaching out to trace your jaw, thinking he wants you to taste him but he shook his head, his dark brown eyes blown with nothing but carnal desire. He was going to give you the chance to suck him off, but he just couldn’t wait to fuck you, so he urged you to sit, hand positioning the pink head of his cock for you to sink into as you begin to tremble, getting more soaked at the sight of his cock being offered for you to use.

“I want to feel you,” He groaned into your ear as you lifted your ass and brushed your pussy on the head of his cock, letting it rub some off dripping wetness all over your pussy before you carefully sank in, whimpering just halfway in. “Good girl… You can take it.”

Once he was fully in, Jaehyun sunk lower to his pillow, bringing you with him so he could fuck you relentlessly in this position, disabling you from doing anything else but rest on his toned chest and have him fuck you hard as he pleased. You arched your back, one hand fixed to the headboard as Jaehyun thrusted into you, causing you bounce up and down of his cock, his sweet mouth latched on one of your breasts, sucking and biting your nipple ever so lightly.

“H-harder… Fuck, Jaehyun-n!”

You drove your fists to his pillow as you and him shared an intense gaze after he sucked onto your breast and let go. He bit his lip, in complete awestruck with the way you were losing it for him like a good girl. You almost cried yet again from how fierce he was looking into your eyes when he reached out to grab the base of your throat, lightly pressing to the side and choking you as he drove his cock harder and faster, simultaneously hitting your g-spot too to bring you into another mind-blowing orgasm.

“Fucking cum.” He said between gritted teeth as you tilted your head backwards, tears sliding down your face, his cock disappearing in and out of your cunt, the muffled loud noise of lewd squelching between your bodies bouncing off the walls, disrupting the quiet at such ungodly hour. “C’mon pretty girl…Fuck yourself on my cock just like that, yeah? Good, good— fuck you’re so good to me…”

You rode Jaehyun harder, panting as you met his own thrusts, nearing to the edge until you felt something snap in you.

You screamed into your open palm, free hand locked around his wrist choking you when you came for the second time, trembling around his cock, squeezing him until he pulled out, about to ask you where you’d like it when hastily slipped his cock back into your pussy once again, leaving him no choice but force him to spill inside you.

“On pill.”

You chuckled breathlessly, feeling his cum slide out of you and into the base of his cock.

You watch him arch his back with a deep groan, his hands flexing on your waist as you slowly lifted yourself off him only to leave a trail of open-mouthed kiss down his toned abs until you’re just inches away from his cock. You didn’t even let him stop you when you licked the leftover cum from the base of his cock, not wasting any drop which caused him to grab you back up, his thumb wiping some off your lips and slipping it into you mouth for you to swallow.

“You’re fucking nasty. I guess I do like you.”

“Makes the both of us, don’t you think?”

You feel him circle a hand around your waist as you laid there with him, naked, eventually joining him under the covers.

“I agree. What do you think the head maid would say if she knew?”

“That her manifestation worked…? Jaehyun you should know this things. She’s into crystals, for God’s sake.”

//

“So far, it’s all clear. We’ve enhanced the security everywhere so I think it’s okay. It’s up to Jaehyun though if he’s good with staying at one of the rotational houses within the perimeter. Of course, you’d have to move with him too but you can take one of the personnel with you. We’re gonna have to suspend his public schedules for now until they finish the investigation. “

“Great.” You sighed as you padded down the white-washed hall with Mark, getting sick and tired of the strong antiseptic scent of the hospital. “Watch out for Chenle, too. He looked like he wanted to pluck his IV drip away and fuck out of here.”

“He did want to try it many times, but will do, and hey?”

You spun around as Mark gave you a brown envelope. You tucked it into your purse as he scratched the back of his neck, lips all pursed.

“What.”

“Make sure you don’t have the earbud activated when you’re alone with uh…Jaehyun.”

You blinked, a little confused until you felt your face go in flames, swearing at Mark and then playfully whacking him on the shoulder.

“Whatever!” You rolled your eyes, starting to bolt into a different direction to catch the elevator as Mark broke into a high-pitched laughter, giddily waving you off.

“I won’t tell chief! But I think you gotta buy Jungwoo some condolence wreath!”

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Gala (Anthony Bridgerton x Reader)

Anthony Bridgerton x fem!Reader Modern AU Rated: 18+, just lots of thirst and suggestiveness Word count: 1.9k

Summary: You attend a charity gala with your boss who really is too much trouble in a tux.

Author's Note: Requested by and dedicated to @queenofmean14 Bit cracky and intended to be humorous 😜 Also credit to @broooookiecrisp from whom I pilfered the job details of her modern Anthony.

“He’s here.” Security announced in your earpiece. Not that you needed them to. You knew the Jaguar as it pulled up. So did the line of paparazzi who started to jostle for the clearest shot. But when he stepped out, you didn’t even know your own name. Anthony Bridgerton, CEO of Bridgerton House Enterprises and your boss, was going to make tonight even more difficult for you.

He had talked to you about his planned outfit beforehand, but you hadn’t gotten a preview and hadn’t envisioned it like this. A perfectly tailored velvet tux jacket accented with a diamond bee brooch. Smart shoes, an effortlessly coiffed wave of hair and most arresting of all, a pair of sleek shades that he slid on as he exited the car even though it was long past sundown. An errant corner of your brain replayed some 80’s song lyrics, but you couldn’t deny that the entire look worked. It worked entirely too well for you as your body flushed with heat and breathing suddenly became a task. The man could wear the hell out of a tux.

Granted, he always looked mouthwatering no matter how he was dressed, and as his executive assistant for the span of eight months you had seen the spectrum of his wardrobe. Everything hung so perfectly on his muscled frame, exuding old money power with a currently fashionable touch. Clothes made the man, but you suspected Anthony Bridgerton could elevate a bin bag. It was a visual challenge you had adapted to in your job, over time finding it easier and easier to speak to him without choking on your tongue first. His arrogant playfulness had helped with that and the two of you had built a deep mutual trust, a friendship even. You had bonded in the trenches of corporate crises enough to sling endearing insults at each other and always be blatantly honest. Except about one thing. You could obviously never reveal to him how desperately you wanted to jump his bones. How your blood simmered when his voice dropped to a certain pitch. How you broke into gooseflesh whenever he shook your hand and met you with something caring in his deep umber eyes. The light flirtation you both fell into from time to time certainly didn’t help either. And now with him in black tie, you began to wonder if this job was hazardous to your health.

Tonight was the company’s annual charity gala. A star-studded event at one of London’s best hotels where celebrities and socialites donated funds for the hospitals partnered with BHE. Anthony would give the closing speech and as planned, was the last to arrive on the red carpet so that he would get unencumbered press focus. You had spent the entire day on site making sure everything was prepped to perfection and now you stood at the top of the entry stairs with the other staff, ready to welcome the MVP of the evening. Given the high profile of the event, you had dressed for the occasion too. You would be seated at his table and weren’t going to be photographed looking like an intern. You had found a dress you loved, a shimmering number that showed off your best assets, and splurged on a hair and makeup artist. Maybe your position made you more akin to the prince’s valet but if this was how you got into the ball, you were going to make the most of it.

You watched Anthony pausing for photos, realizing this was one of the rare times you could observe him from afar. He moved with such confidence, back straight and head held high. He would run his fingers through his greying temples or brush a thumb over his stubbled chin while flashing that killer smile and your legs wanted to give out. He knew how to work a camera. It was one of the many awful, wonderful things about him. But if the attention helped raise money for charitable causes it was all worth it. You supposed your undergarments could suffer for the greater good. 

As he moved along, you noticed he was licking his lips. A peek of his tongue in the corner of his mouth as he faced your direction. He was probably hot under all the camera flashes. But that small gesture was infecting you with heat too. He really needed to stop or you were liable to tumble down the steps and really make a headline. It took all your strength not to fan yourself with the tablet you were holding until at last he ascended and gave you a dazzling smile, falling into step beside you as you moved indoors. 

You hovered in his orbit as he was greeted by the first throng of attendees at the bar and you called for a flute of champagne. When he was alone at last for a moment, you pulled him into a quiet corner and offered him the drink.

“Thirsty?”

“Sorry?” He moved closer, inclining his head. He was curiously still wearing his sunglasses indoors. You could smell his cologne. Amber and smoke and spice and it made you want to sink your teeth into his neck.

“Are you thirsty?” You said louder, shoving the glass into his hand as he chuckled.

“Why do you ask?” He took a sip.

What a stupid question. Couldn’t you just offer him some refreshment? Didn’t humans need to hydrate? Now you had to answer him.

“I um…” You wavered. “I saw you. You were…licking your lips out there so I just figured…”

His brows show up over his frames and he grinned. “You’re very attentive.”

Something shot down your spine. His voice was getting close to that register. “It’s my job to take care of your needs.” You reminded him, though you laid on a heavy layer of sarcasm.

“And you are so very good at it.” He rumbled, reaching the danger pitch. Oh god, he was going to assault you both visually and aurally at the same time, wasn’t he? He was going to flirt with you while daring to look like that. He was cruel, and he knew exactly what he was doing. 

He confirmed it by stepping even closer, turning so the front of his velvet jacket brushed your bare arm and he leaned down to murmur directly in your ear. “You look incredible by the way.”

You swallowed hard, instructing yourself to inhale and exhale. But that wasn’t really helping because his intoxicating scent was making things worse. You had to keep your head. You had to spar with him or else you were going to melt into the carpet. “So do you.” You pursed your lips and gave him an exaggerated once over as if you were only mildly impressed. “The glasses were a good choice.”

He smiled and you detected something genuine, like he was actually eager for your praise. He tapped the frames lightly. “Useful too. I don’t have to give anyone my undivided attention if I don’t want to. I could be talking to them while scanning the crowd and they would be none the wiser.”

This sounded like the setup for a joke. Something about not listening to you as you conducted him through his schedule for the evening. You were beginning to resent those glasses and you would let him know if he tried to get sassy with you.

“So what are you looking at?” You smirked, waiting for the punchline.

He took another sip of champagne, facing you but now you couldn’t be sure if he wasn’t staring directly over your head. “A beautiful woman who is driving me to distraction.”

You rolled your eyes. Of course. The man lived at the office and didn’t really have time for a social or romantic life. He would have to double up and treat a work event as an opportunity for a hookup. Especially at an event as glamorous as this, with so many swanlike women floating around and everyone dressed in their finest, you understood, despite the envy it flared in you.  

“Ah, I see. Is there someone I should invite over to your table?”

He shook his head, downed the last of the champagne and set it aside with a decisive clink. “Unnecessary. You’re already at my table.”

He said it so matter-of-factly it took your brain several seconds to even comprehend its meaning. You must have been going mad. Your heart started to pound, fueled equally by embarrassed confusion and ridiculous hope. There was no way. Absolutely no way on earth he could have said what you thought he said. And even if he had, he was just toying with you, right? 

“I’m not…” You stuttered, hoping he couldn’t see the blush you felt creeping up your neck. “You weren’t…you weren't looking at me.”

Then your breath caught in your throat as he rounded on you, standing directly before you so your back was pressed against the wall and all you could see was him. He loomed, black velvet and chestnut hair and perfect stubble. That scent was making you feral and now you could feel his hot breath across your skin. You could see yourself in the reflection of his dark lenses, peering up at him like trapped prey. This was how you died. Or lost your job. You were sure of it.

“How would you know?” He smiled wolfishly and tapped the glasses again. “All the better to see you with, my dear.” 

You were hit by lightning. The gooseflesh rippled across your skin. Your underwear soaked. All you could do was stand there and tremble as he ran a finger idly up and down your arm. You were surprised sparks weren’t erupting out of your skin where he touched you. 

“Why do you think I was licking my lips?” He asked in a low voice, finally removing the shades to pierce through you with his dilated, chocolate eyes. “I’m afraid even with the champagne, I’m still thirsty.” Then he did it again, flicking that weapon of mass destruction across his luscious bottom lip and staring at you pointedly.

Your brain functioned enough to realize that he was breathing just as heavy as you were. And that he was opening a door, giving you an option. The option you had been fantasizing about since the day you met him. It seemed too good to be true. You were half convinced you were dreaming in a coma after faceplanting down the steps outside thanks to his appearance. But the prickle of your electrified nerves and the river between your thighs felt real enough to persuade you that you were indeed still in your own body. You were not going to pass this up, whatever it might lead to. Really, you wanted to scream aloud like you had won the lottery.

But instead you whispered, “There’s water in the green room.”

He grinned broadly, creasing that dimple in his left cheek that you wanted to lick right off his face. “Excellent idea. I think we’ll need an emergency private conference to…go over my notes.”

His hand found the small of your back and you prayed that your legs would carry you that far. This was really going to throw off the itinerary but you were good at your job, you could adjust. You smiled back at him. “Whatever you say, sir. I’m here to take care of your needs.”

Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky @colettebronte @faye-tale

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

please can I request soft/ fluff HCs with Peter quill? it’s sinful how little fics there are of him, so had to ask you :) 💕 preferably female but GN is fine too

hii! omg yess that’s so true, there is literally no fics of him! I have searched for so long to find some quill fics but often come up empty, so if anyone has recs, please please send them my way (I need them and him) ive never wrote for quill so hope these are accurate. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

headcanons/ imagines

peter quill x f reader

warnings || none

a/n || I may have done this first, sorry to all the others in my inbox, this was something fun to do and hopefully it might kick me into writing again

masterlist + rules

taglist

- it’s a given, but you guys talk about music ALL the time, it’s definitely a very important part of your relationship. maybe you share new songs with him from different decades, but you definitely prefer his music and he loves that you love his music

- he has an abundance of funky, fun and cool graphic tees, he loves to share them with you and probably prefers them on you

- he definitely fell first

- he loves to make you laugh, constantly cracking jokes. doesn’t even need to try and you’d just be laughing or smiling at him. his favourite laughs of yours are when you snort or cackle at his unintentional jokes

- it makes him feel special that you pay attention to the little things he says and when you react earnestly to them

- even though he LOVES the other guardians, he definitely prefers one on one time with you and loves to have you all to himself. he also loves your attention, and he definitely craves time with you

- he has major abandonment issues, so he doesn’t like you leaving his side. you’d be like his lucky rock, or a special penny that he always needs near. you are incredibly special to quill and he is often terrified that he’ll lose you too

- he craves validation, especially from you

- he is a lot smarter than he gives himself credit for. he’s definitely learnt tonnes from rocket over the years

- if he ever has to do a mission separately from you (would take a lot of persuasion and reassurance first) but he always brings back some special for you, something tailored and important to you, something that holds significance

- he’s incredibly sentimental, again not always showing it. he feels safe with the other guardians, but even more so with you. he doesn’t often like talking about his mother (he finds it too difficult) it took a lot of time, but he eventually shared that part of his life with you, and he was glad he did because your reaction was exactly what he needed

- an amazing hugger, he’s super comforting and safe. he has a very homely vibe and instantly makes you feel at ease

- you two have a very fun and easygoing relationship, it’s light and airy, but serious and passionate when it needs to be. a very sincere and genuine dynamic

- he taught you how to speak groot, he’s a great teacher but it took some getting used to

- he likes when you sit on his lap when he steers the ship, even though it’s not technically safe, he loves having you near when he is in the captain's seat (or just on his lap in the seat in general)

- but if need be, your seat is behind him, so it’s not too far away

- he loves teaching you things, he wanted to be the one to teach you about the ship and its buttons and controls

- I had this idea: that you take him to earth (he might not be too fond of the idea at first) but you surprise him with concert tickets so you both could see a band he loves. he’d never stop talking about it, and he’d keep the ticket stubs pinned up so he could look at them all the time

- he would do ANYTHING for you, he goes love blind (may have gotten himself hurt a couple of times to protect you)

- you both invented a special code/ encryption so you can talk to each other over comms. if he is on the other side of the ship (maybe tinkering) he’ll send you a secret message to let you know he’s thinking of you

- you guys don’t really argue (that’s not a bad thing either) if you have a disagreement it’s usually very light, and unserious, he’d probably accidentally make you laugh during it and then everything goes back to normal

- but if you ever do get into an argument, he can be quite stubborn

- he is a man-child (but the best kind!!) he can be immature and cocky but he’s always lighthearted. he’s just a fun-loving goof

- he loves when you call him starlord (but you don’t say it too often, so it doesn’t lose its meaning)

- you helped him process his grief, especially after yondu. once he felt comfortable talking about him again, he’d tell you all of these stories about him growing up

- he no longer drinks to forget, he now prefers a social drink after a mission with the crew instead. he doesn’t feel the need to drink himself silly now that he has you

- the guardians think you’re a great addition to the team and love that you make quill so happy

- you and peter share stories of earth with the others, sometimes you’d bend the truth and say wacky absurd things to joke around with them, but that being said it often flies over their heads, especially drax and mantis

- you two are definitely best friends as well as a couple, the perfect balance of friendship and romance, which is what makes the connection so special

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Ace, Lilia: Be Not Deceived

OH???? 👁️ One of the paintings in the background is the Ace of Hearts card soldiers… Does this mean we’ll get to see the actual character inspos for each boy, even the obscure ones like Jack and Sebek??? Will we finally solve a 3+ year long mystery??????? 🔍

… Also, not Ace casually wanting to go to karaoke with Scar 😭 (Funny, cuz he was denied hearing L*ona sing during Endless Halloween Night.) Figures that Ace would be the best at singing of the first years, the others are just no competition…

A Tale as Old as Time.

Not every work of art had a seriousness about it. In fact, Ace preferred to ogle the sillier pieces, finding solace in the nonsense and the chaos of them.

Hands shoved into the pockets of his finely tailored slacks, he found himself entranced by a bed of oysters. They were pried open, one half of their shells propped up to resemble bonnets. Their fleshy, round faces were still drowsy from sleep.

Little babies, the whole lot of them.

“My, you’ve taken quite an interest in that painting. I wouldn’t have expected it of you.” The remark came from Lilia, who curiously peered over at Ace from one side. “Have you an interest in oysters?”

“Nah, can’t stand’m. Especially raw,” he replied. “I was just thinkin’ of something I heard from back home."

“Oh?" Lilia’s large eyes glittered with a keen interest. “Now this I must hear.”

“It’s not really that interesting.” Ace shrugged. “A walrus dressed up in a suit to wine and dine a bunch of oysters—but the punchline is, instead of being taken out to dinner, the oysters are the walrus’s dinner! We have a Walrus-brand oyster sauce in the Queendom of Roses that gets its name from that story."

“Kufufu, I see! What a fascinating origin," Lilia mused. "It's a cautionary tale to not trust strangers. It brings to mind warnings to be wary of wolves in sheep’s clothing.”

"I guess so? The walrus looked nice at first glance, but he basically robbed a cradle. Seriously, who'd actually go and kidnap a baby like that? It’s just an exaggerated story to scare gullible kids into acting straight.”

Lilia's mouth adopted a mysterious, knowing smile.

"Oh, you'd be surprised!" he chuckled softly. "You never know when a big, bad monster might come in the night to steal you away from your family."

There was an eerie intenseness behind his every word, the magenta of his irises darkening to match. A shiver bolted down Ace’s spine. Lilia, too, was a creature of that very night that threatened to consume him.

"Y-Yeesh, you're freakin' me out, Lilia-senpai” Ace jokingly shoved his upperclassman. His fear had been fleeting, easily chased off with a laugh. “Don't say scary stuff like that. Halloween isn't for like another whole month!"

“Oopsie~ Perhaps I’m a little overeager.”

“I’ll say.” Ace rolled his eyes. “Sometimes I forget how weird you can be.”

“What, you don’t think someone as adorable as me could possibly be capable of committing a war crime or two?” Lilia grinned. “I’m not entirely innocent, you know.”

“You definitely wouldn’t be able to pull off any war crimes though!! You just act way different than your looks would suggest.” Ace rapped his knuckles on the wall beside the framed oysters. “Like the lying walrus.”

“Do you think I’m a lying walrus?” The question was teasing.

“Everyone is. There’s plenty of them in Heartslabyul too.” Ace counted off on his fingers.

“Loosey Deucy comes off like a straight-laced honors student, but he’s an ex-delinquent and dumb as a rock. Cater-senpai looks flashy and friendly, but he’ll trick you into doing his chores and leave you hanging. Trey-senpai’s got his weird teeth hobby… and then there’s Riddle-ryocho, who has a babyface but throws fits like an active volcano!!

“The Great Seven had parts of themselves that were surprising too. No one would think the King of Beasts would be the type of guy to be belt out a song, but he still did. That’s what moved the hyenas to join his cause. It just goes to show that you really can’t judge a book by its cover.”

"A good takeaway from the tale," Lilia agreed. "Taking the morals of a story to heart... you're very clever, Ace."

"The cleverest." He cheekily stuck out his tongue.

The knowing smile suddenly returned to Lilia's face. "I'm sure you have a wicked side to yourself as well. As you've said, we all have a bit of the lying walrus in us."

"No way, miss me with that. I’m the poor, helpless victim,” Ace grumbled, rubbing at his neck. It had stiffened considerably at the memory of his skin chaffing. “Haaah, if only I wasn't bullied so much by my dorm leader~"

"By Riddle?" Lilia smirked a little. "His temper is rather infamous. Silver and Sebek are his club mates. I've heard of Riddle's rage.”

"Dude, you don't know the half of it. He's always nagging me one way or another, and if I don't listen... BAM!

"'Off with Your Head'!!" Ace scrunched up his face in a show of pretend anger and pantomimed casting a spell by wiggling his fingers. The voice he adopted was elegant, yet arrogant—a replica of Riddle's. "Now you sit there and think about what you've done, Ace! The collar comes off when you've repented."

He fell back with a groan, Lilia's amused chuckle accompanying him in the otherwise quiet museum.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up while you still can."

From the corner of his eye, Ace spotted the oysters again. The entire bed, a colony of easily deceived infants. Unaware of the world and its eager, snapping jaws—the jaws of a well-dressed walrus.

“Guess a smile and a snazzy suit is all it takes to get people to waltz right into a trap, huh? With the right looks and attitude, even a villain can be made to pass as a hero.”

Ace tugged at the silver sash slung across his torso, drinking in the details of his luxurious platinum suit. A bow tie, a vest, a jacket with trailing coattails. Shining fabric, pure and unblemished.

He was all dressed up, with nowhere to go. Only lies to tell.

“You make for a good hero,” Lilia offered, “with that winsome charm and cheer of yours. Ah, but that’s not all. It never is. These old eyes can’t be deceived.”

“Whaaat? I can’t believe you’d side with Riddle over me. I’m being unfairly ganged up on here!! Aaah, my senpai are so mean to me…!”

His laments echoed off the cavernous rooms of the museum. Mere whining of a high school boy against the backdrop of great figures and illustrious history.

He was small, one little white lie against a sea of them.

“… Juuust kidding.”

Ace turned away, a wink thrown playfully at the painting of the oysters before their very doom.

As if anyone would believe that.

[shady-tavern]

Masterpost

For anyone who wants an easy overview of my stories.

***

Fantasy stories:

Missing Piece

A Deal of Games

Deals and Revelry, Quin's Backstory

Healing Hearts

Vampire's Lullaby: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Drabble

The Tailors on Baker Street, Drabble

Winter Star

The Fall of a God

Learning to give Life

Lich Mage and Melina: Part One and Part Two

Symphony of Song and Music, Drabble

Everything

Amnesiac God-Spouse

Seeking Shelter from the Dragon

The Miracle Dealer

What makes a God

The Royal Oracle

*

Hero and Villain Stories:

Heart Song

A Dash of Villainy within A Hero: Part One and Part Two

Perfect Nemesis: Part One and Part Two

Villain providing an Out for Heroes

Nightshade

Villain Roommate

Silver and Hero: Part One and Part Two

*

Space and Aliens:

Going Home

Psychological Warfare Chess on Crack

*

Sneak Peeks for Patreon Stories:

Dancing with Stars

Holding Curses with Gentle Hands

Salt and Iron

Sanctuary

Dark Waters

Woven Magic

Doll House

The Price of a Life

The Magic of Consequences

Heartless

*

WIPs:

The Shape of a Soul: Part One, Part Two, Part Three

*

Want to read more and support me at the same time? Want more awesome, fun or wholesome stories? Want to lord your support of an artist over your enemy's head as you laugh at them from the top of your metaphorical castle tower?

Or perhaps cackle in the woods while a disgruntled woodcutter shakes their fist at you? Head over to my Patreon!

There will be a new, exclusive short story every month (and occasionally a surprise second one!) while I work on upcoming books and more stories that I will post here!

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