#maybe its just my thirst blinding my eyes but he looks damn good in that jacket 👌

[shoutogepi]

Jealousy Has Its Perks

Todoroki Shouto

word count : 10.4K holy shit im tired

[  ✘ (nsfw!), ☀︎ ]  sin with a cute ending

themes : jealous,dom!shouto, brat,sub!reader, friends with benefits, degradation, quirk use, edging, overstimulation, general bdsm things, & a sweet lil confession

bio : Even though you’re not his, Shouto can’t help but turn green with envy when he sees you dancing on another man at the club.

author’s note : uhhhh can i get a hell yeahhHHH for jealous fwb trope? lmao my basic ass loves these. hope y’all do too <3

also available on AO3 here

  ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅂hinsou’s hands land on your waist, cold fingertips pressing into your exposed midriff and guiding your hips along with his. The circular motion has your head spinning, and you let your skull fall back onto his sturdy chest at the feeling of his semi brushing against your ass. Shinsou’s purple locks tickle your neck as he bends and presses his lips to your skin, sucking on the skin just hard enough to leave a ghost of a bruise. His hands cup your hips, squeezing the flesh there softly while his thumbs trace the crest of the bones.

The song blasting through the club changes, a novel and heavy bass causing your throat to vibrate. The sudden need to quench your thirst emerges, and you pull away from the handsome man regretfully. His lavender irises regard you with understanding as you point to the bar, holding up a finger to signal you won’t be long.

Your heels stick to the dancefloor slightly as you cut through the throngs of club-goers, and unsurprisingly a handful of guys attempt to stop you on your travels. Finding a familiar pink head of hair, you slip into the empty spot next to Ashido and let out a sigh of relief as your elbows land on the wooden counter. Perspiration makes the hairs at the back of your neck stick to your skin, and you fan yourself with a cocktail napkin as you attempt to catch the bartender’s attention.

“Not doing so bad for yourself, Y/N,” Ashido grins at you coyly, her words a tad slurred as her black eyes give you a once-over.

You let out a chuckle, painted lips curving knowingly. “Yeah, well… he used to have a crush on me back in the day,” you explain with a nonchalant shrug, finally giving your order to the woman behind the bar. You look at Shinsou over your shoulder, who has returned to his table of friends and is currently being shoved, high-fived, and noogied animatedly.

Ashido gasps exaggeratedly, her mouth turning from an ‘o’ of shock to a grin of delight. “Two heroes wrapped around your finger at once? I can’t believe you,” she laughs, perhaps too hard, because you have to hold her arm tightly to keep her from falling off her stool.

“Hey now, I’m a free woman!” You reason, thanking the bartender as they hand you an icy glass. “I can fool around with whoever I want, thank you very much.”

“Can’t argue with sound logic,” Ashido taps your glass with hers, throwing back the remaining contents of her drink. “You know, you should tap Bakugou, too. Last night, he Lord-Explosion-Murdered this pussy.”

You snort, the alcohol burning your nostrils as it leaks into your nose from the abrupt reaction to Mina’s words. All the pink-haired woman does is laugh with you, the both of you maybe a step past tipsy but not nearly blackout drunk. Not yet, anyway.

“Shinsou though, really? I’m surprised… I thought you were too in love with IcyHot’s dick to tap anybody else,” Ashido teases, poking your shoulder as a frown forms on your face. Her words are playful, but they send irritation surging through your veins. That asshole had cancelled your weekly appointment tonight, which is why you’re here at the club, prowling for a suitable replacement.  

You shrug again, allowing the bitter liquid to drift past your lips before you speak again. “What can I say? He knows how to get the job done, and he’s sexy as hell.”

“You sound a little smitten. He must be pretty damn good,” Ashido wiggles her brows at you, a devious smile making its way to her face.

You disregard her comment, looking away from your friend with an eye roll. Smitten? Your relationship with Shouto is strictly physical. But maybe you had been a bit too disappointed when he’d sent you that text earlier. Shaking your head, you take a gulp of your drink, willing the intrusive thought to disappear.

Ashido’s phone vibrates and you watch her face light up at the message. After a brief moment, she stands, collecting her jacket and purse. “Hmm, seems like Bakugou is calling for an emergency meeting,” she winks at you, flashing you a rather lewd photo of the blonde that was clearly not meant for you to see as she walks away. “Give my regards to Shinsou! I wanna hear about all the nasty stuff he does to you with that mind control quirk of his.”

You can’t help but chuckle at that, sighing as you cross your arms. Would Shinsou really be enough to satisfy your cravings? His quirk does interest you sexually, but it’s unclear if he’d be willing to dominate you like that. He always seemed like the type to go with the flow… and tonight, you really need someone to force you to swim against the current, so to speak.

“Shinsou, huh?”

Speak of the icy devil. The voice behind you makes your body still, your eyes widening at his deep tone. The scent of his encaptivating cologne infiltrates the air around you, and a hand slides around your waist, pushing you backwards against his firm chest. You swallow, your tongue poking out to wet your lips in anticipation. What’s he doing here?

“Already forgetting about me, angel?” Lips ghost over the shell of your ear, his hand gliding across your torso until it reaches the other side of your waist, grabbing there and spinning you around. He catches you as you turn, snatching your wrist with his other hand to steady your half-finished drink.

You look up into his heterochromatic eyes, noticing a new emotion simmering there. Is that… jealousy? His cold breath fans over your flushed face, and you bask in the cool relief it provides in contrast to the stuffy club air. “It was you who cancelled our appointment,” you murmur, feigning innocence as you look to the side in a faux-bashful manner, “I needed to find a substitute. A girl has needs, you know.”

Shouto grins down at you, but it seems like more of a snarl as his eyes glare down at you with hostility. One eyebrow raised in mockery, he chuckles lowly. “And Shinsou Hitoshi is gonna do that for you? Are you sure he’s big enough to fill my shoes, angel?”

Your eyes wander back to the intimidating man before you, lingering on the ridges of his muscular form hidden underneath his button-up and slacks. Feeling brave, you down the rest of your drink, tongue rolling out and over the lip of the emptied glass. Shouto’s eyes burn as they follow the movement, his lips parting slightly while his grip tightens on your waist. Shooting him a playful smile, you tug your wrist free, placing the vacant glass on the bar. “What are you even doing here, Shouto?” You change the subject, hand reaching up to tug on his slim tie as a cheeky grin splits your lips. “You don’t like to have fun.”

The action causes him to lean closer to you, his face next to yours. “I was dragged here against my own will, of course— boy’s night. But would you believe my surprise when I saw my little minx walk in, all eyes on her in her skimpiest dress?” His baritone voice loud and clear despite the blaring music, his lips hover dangerously close. The hand you’d freed strikes your ass abruptly, causing you to jump closer to him in shock. His fingers hold the reddened cheek through the thin material of your dress, gathering you into his chest. No one seems bothered by the blatantly sexual action in the club, everyone distracted with their drinks and their own sensual pursuits. “And then, can you imagine how I felt watching her grind up against mind-control, watching him put his filthy fucking hands on what’s mine?”

You let out a heavy breath, delighted at how responsive he is. How possessive he is. “What’s yours?” You challenge, hands landing on his broad chest. His expression makes you press your legs together eagerly, your body starting to bend to his will.

Shouto’s hand leaves your waist to cradle the back of your neck, forcing you to bend your gaze to meet his. “Mine,” he whispers, his lips inching closer to yours by the second. Your pulse pounding, your fingers curling into the cotton of his shirt, your eyes flutter closed. His lips brush over yours, and then he pulls away.

A whine of protest escapes you, and you shove your palms against his chest in annoyance. But he doesn’t even budge, his fingers slipping into your hair and pulling your defiant face to look at him.

“Let’s get outta here, angel,” he nods toward the exit, releasing you and lightly smacking your ass again before his fingers settle at the small of your back, “I think I need to remind you who you belong to.” Shivers shoot down your spine at his choice of words, effectively drowning the bratty response you were so ready to quip at him. Without even a glance at Shinsou, you allow Shouto to guide you out of the establishment and into the crisp night air.

The brisk walk to his luxurious apartment is silent, but laden with anticipation. Your brain begins to ponder if his words had a deeper meaning. The two of you had been engaging in this affair for months now— you aren’t quite sure how it came to be. Your relationship had remained stringently physical, but you couldn’t help the butterflies that filled your stomach when he held you through the night, when his hands would rub your exhausted body tenderly, and when he would kiss you for hours before you’d slip into a satiated, peaceful slumber. And you did not dare to acknowledge the warmth that would blossom in your chest when you’d drowsily awake, still swaddled against his muscular chest with his arms around you as sunlight peeked through the blinds. Physical, yes— your relationship is only physical… regardless of the fuzzy feelings that ebb through you when you’re next to him.

And when he had proposed to have you come over twice in one weekend, you’d nearly panicked at the raw excitement that coursed through you at the premise. After much consideration you had denied his request, fearful that if you allowed yourself even a shred of further indulgence you’d be entirely consumed by the captivating man. He hadn’t overstepped that boundary since, and you weren’t sure if you felt appreciative or disappointed.

Your train of thought is interrupted as you reach the tall doors of his apartment building. The complex is perhaps one of the most expensive in the city— the lobby boasts flat leather sofas and sleek wooden tables. Lush tropical plants with leaves as wide as tennis rackets break up the space, magnificent orchids dotting the area just sparingly enough, and to top it off, an entire wall with running water rushing over the flat surface, creating a sheet of liquid that trickles quietly as you wait for the elevator.

Next to you, Shouto has his hands in his pockets, a blank expression on his face as usual. But after months of getting to know him, you can easily recognize the irritation lingering on his handsome mug. You are not able to think of any words that could possibly calm Shouto’s crackling, brooding intensity, but honestly, a large part of you desperately wants to find out what exactly he has in store for you. It’s clear that he has no intention of forgetting you were about to leave with another man, and his blatant acrimony brings a sliver of joy to you while jealousy oozes out of his every pore— you know you’re in for a wild night.

When the door closes with a deafening click behind you, your body freezes as you wait with bated breath. Sure enough, two large hands curl around your stomach, coasting down your pelvis in a V shape. His long fingers nearly graze your clothed slit, but he changes direction at the last moment, instead securing his palms on your inner upper thighs. He rubs the flesh there roughly, making your head fall back against his shoulder as you gaze up at him. His smoky eyes are already on you, a smirk decorating his pretty lips as his fingers work on your sensitive muscles. Thumbs brushing against the sides of your panties, his movements push the hem of your short dress up along your hips.

“You need to be fucked pretty bad, huh, angel?” He taunts, analyzing how your ass rubs zealously against his crotch. His smirk only grows as you nod, your hand flying up to grapple onto his bicep. “Bad enough to drop your standards so embarrassingly low?”

You snort at his words, turning your head so your eyes catch his. This asshole has some nerve getting jealous after he was the one who cancelled on you.  “Shinsou is just as hot as you, Shouto,” you reply boldly, wondering what exactly the price of your words will be. How far can you push this envious beast? Will you be able to take his punishment?

Shouto’s expression darkens, allowing his hair to fall over his eyes as his stare falls to the floorboards. His hands leave your skin, and you whirl around ready to dish out another line, but he’s already a step ahead of you. He lashes out, yanking your body against his by swooping his hand underneath your thigh and cupping your bare ass. He lifts your body so your heels leave the floor, rushing to press your back flat against the drywall. He’s hoisted you up high enough to set your ass against the thin, tall table next to the door which usually holds his keys.

Your legs parted with him standing between them, he places his hands on the tops of your thighs. A low chuckle rumbles out of him, his tidy fingernails trailing up your flesh. “Just as hot as me, hmm? Is he really, Y/N?” His left hand jumps from your thigh to your cunt, the only barrier between you two your skimpy panties. The heat emanating off his palm catches you off guard, a moan tearing out of you as he easily cups your covered sex, sending a searing fever through your body.

“Fuck,” you whimper, hips bucking instinctively against his palm, your body hoping for some kind of friction. The heat makes your pussy twitch, stirring as a cat slowly pulled from a deep slumber.

He tilts his head, as if he doesn’t understand why you’re breathless. “Huh? What was that?” He wiggles his fingertips a bit, enjoying how you whine as the ends of his blistering fingers dig into your core through the material of your panties. Your wetness drips through the thin cloth to coat his hot digits, making it easier to glide them against you.

“More, Shouto,” you squeak, panting heavily as his fingers rub along your slit at an infuriatingly slow pace.

Shouto lets out a low purr of satisfaction at your plea, savoring how your smooth leg tenses up underneath his other palm. Your sweet whimpers are music to his ears, his right hand moving around your thigh to meander toward your ass. “No, baby. Not until my angel answers me,” he murmurs, ducking his head down and placing his lips against the delicate skin on your neck.

A wayward moan evades your gasping lungs as his tongue ravishes your flesh, his teeth scraping over the wet skin. Your legs wrap around his waist, wiggling your body forward so your soft breasts press up against his hard chest, your cunt inching closer to his crotch. “Ugh— nooo,” you gasp as a fingertip presses harshly against your core, just barely pushing your panties into your pussy.

“No? No what?” He laughs darkly, his breath tickling your sensitive collarbone. He draws back from you, his intense gaze focusing on the other side of your neck before he looks directly at you, a sinister glint in his eyes.

Your lip trembling, the brat you’d been so ready to let free is for once taciturn at his dominance. Your submissive nature leaking out in desperation, you whine when his fingertip recedes slightly, leaving your panties barely inside of you without the pressure you really want. “No— Shinsou’s not nearly as hot as you, Shouto!” You rush out, heavy breaths making your chest rise and fall swiftly, restless for his touch to return to you.

But Shouto does not seem appeased by your admission. In fact, his gaze becomes a glare, his mouth curling into a snarl as he grabs your hips, crushing your body against his. “I hate hearing another man’s name come out of your pretty little mouth, Y/N,” he growls.

You’re shocked by his possessiveness, your eyes widening like saucers as his teeth skim your pouting lips. His proclamation makes a cocktail of doubt and lust unfurl in the corners of your body, but you’re torn as you wonder if he really thinks of you as his. Before you can ponder the meaning behind his statement, his eyelids shut and he smashes his lips onto yours.

Your arms are around his neck in less than a second, all thoughts vanishing as your nails scratch his scalp through the short, buzzed hair at the base of his undercut. He groans against your mouth, eliciting a moan from you in response. He takes the opportunity in stride, his hot tongue thrusting into your mouth as hot steam puffs out his nose, his calloused hands squeezing your body carnally. Your lips dance with his clumsily, your other hand cupping the corner of his sharp jawline and pulling his lips closer to yours.  

He pulls away from you as your hips begin to grind against his, his eyes still closed with his lips pulling back into a snarky smile. Your needy mewl of disappointment makes his eyes slit open, regarding you with a predatory gaze. He takes in your desirous expression, his stare cold yet sizzling with passion. “You let him defile your perfect skin, angel?”

The hickey Shinsou had left is barely even that— nearly indistinguishable from your skin tone— yet Shouto’s eyes make the flesh on your neck blister with his scalding intensity. Your cheeks flush red, his words fanning the fire inside of you as you bite your lip. You had hoped he wouldn’t notice, but now you realize it was foolish of you to even allow yourself to think his perceptive gaze would skip over something so blatant.

“This heavenly body is mine to mark,” he hisses, a hand fisting your hair and pulling your neck back roughly to reveal the hidden skin from the shadows.  The vaguely purple mark now on display in the dim mood lighting of his entryway, more steam billows from the man as he sneers in contempt. “And only mine. Got it, baby?” He does not allow you to answer— his mouth attacks the bruise, harshly sucking the skin while he washes away any recollection of the other man with ferocious swipes from his strong tongue.

Your back bows, your body wriggling in his grasp at the surge of devastating arousal that pulses through you. You shriek his name, hands clawing hysterically into his shoulder and the soft hair atop his head. Your pussy clenches around nothing, making you very aware of the aching need for him to claim you building in your core. Your legs snag his hips closer to yours, his body crashing into you as he grunts, lips finally releasing your battered skin. Without a doubt, the once indistinct mark is now more akin to the remnants of a punch to the throat, the colors already eclipsing into a deep shade of violet.

The lust crackles in the air between you two like thunder, your body a savannah ready to receive the generous relief of the first deluge in months. God, it’d only been a week since you last saw the man, but the unmitigated yearning for him to ravage you is the only emotion you can process.

“Please, Shouto, I need you to fuck me,” you beg, the words slipping out of you like a wet bar of soap from your desperate clutches. You’re mortified at your shamefully wanton admission, your cheeks still red and your body flushed, nearly shaking. You are not accustomed to this submissive side of yourself, but the brat inside of you only watches on in avid curiosity. If he doesn’t escalate this tryst fast enough, you’re afraid your body will fold like a limp noodle in his strong arms.

Shouto seems just as affected as you, his pupils dilated and his erection painfully straining against the confines of his slacks. His hands leave your frame, going to loosen the collar of his shirt by yanking his tie loose and then beginning to unbuckle his belt. You lean forward, your lips meeting his again as your fingers eagerly land on his cheeks, beckoning him closer to you. He moans into your mouth, fist nearly ripping the leather belt from the loops on his slacks, the metal of the snake-shaped buckle klinking loudly as he discards it carelessly onto the tabletop. Hands trailing up your spine, he tugs the zipper of your dress down your back, effortlessly lifting your hips in one hand to slip the garment under your ass and off your legs.

The inferno of jealousy ignites once again as he appraises your figure, clad in a matching set of white silky lace adorned with satin ribbons on each hip and one beneath the valley of your breasts. You’d worn this and Shinsou had almost seen such a marvel? Seen your delectable body in this gorgeous lingerie that he himself had never feasted his starved eyes upon?

Unaware of his change in mood, your lips move along his, begging for him to kiss you back as your tongue swipes his full bottom lip. His palms slide along your back, moving to cup your ass cheeks as he picks you up. You nibble on his earlobe as he swiftly carries you to his bedroom, his fingers jabbing into your behind in response. He kicks open the ajar door forcefully, unflinching as the doorknob nearly cracks the wall. Sliding onto the edge of the mattress, he sits with you on his lap, your legs still secure around his torso. His rough palms glide over your hips, rounding your waist and seizing your breasts, lifting the flesh to sit more perkily on your chest in perfectly round spheres.  

“Why are you so fucking gorgeous, Y/N?” He groans, eyes closing in pleasure as you feel his cock twitch beneath you. He presses his mouth to the supple skin just above the cusp of the bra, slurping and nipping and leaving a trail of pretty pink marks. “You’re damn ethereal, angel.”

You’re gasping for air, hips unabashedly rolling against his, the feeling of his strained length making your desire for him to fuck you senseless multiply. Your hands latch onto his broad shoulders to steady yourself, your mind spinning dizzily with desire and the prolonged buzz from your earlier drinks.

“Take off my tie.”

The command rouses you from your far-away state, your fingers slightly trembling as you work on the silky material of the tie. After what seems like an eternity, the knot loosens and the tie slides off his neck into your hands. Shouto’s lips cover yours again, instantly enchanting you so that you don’t notice the sleek item slip through your fingers.

All of a sudden your front meets the cool sheets, your lips ripped away from his. Instead your face meets his pillow, engulfing your senses in the sexy, virile smell of him. You moan into the pillow, ass pushing into the air as your cunt throbs between your legs, ready to be taken in whatever manner he decides. His knees land on either side of your hips, his bulge rubbing into your ass teasingly as his hands close around your wrists. Tugging them behind your back carefully, he loops the tie around the both of them and fastens the knot with a firm pull, jerking once more for good measure.

You swallow into the pillow, teeth poking out to capture your bottom lip when he trails a sole finger along your spine. He’d never tied you up like this before, and the concept excites you to the point that your arousal visibly permeates your white panties.

“Do you feel that?” Shouto inquires, rutting his hips against your bottom so his clothed cock rubs between your ass cheeks. He’s panting lightly, his palms groping your ass and pinching the skin torturously. “Can you feel how much I want you, Y/N?”

“Fuck yes,” you answer, your head turning to lay against the pillow so he can see half your face and hear your voice. “I want you too, Shouto— I need you.”

He sighs at your saccharine words, almost swayed by your submissive antics. If he gives in now, his cock could be in your tight hole in just seconds… But then he wouldn’t get to have his way with you.

“Mmm, you’re cute when you’re desperate, baby,” he remarks, grasping your hips and pulling you down the sheets. He maneuvers you over his lap, and your eyes bug out of your skull as you assume position, knowing what comes next— he’d only done this once before but the memories of that night makes your pussy twinge excitedly. Your arms tied behind your back, your face dangles perilously beside his ankle, your forehead almost skimming the wooden floor. Your body is stiff, and Shouto hums as his hands drift along every inch of your back, ass, and the backs of your thighs.

“I wanna give you what you want, angel, but I promised I would remind you who you belong to, didn’t I?” His words are phrased like a question, but his tone implies them as a statement. Unsure what he wants, you keep quiet, waiting for him to continue.

Apparently, that’s the wrong move, because his freezing hand slaps down hard onto your ass. A mix between a shout and a whine falls out of your lips, your fingers clutching onto themselves in apprehension. Your breathing picks up, ascending into a pant as his other hand caresses the reddened skin with a soothing heat exuding from his palm.

“Did you know I was going to be at the club tonight?”

His question catches you off guard, and you think for a moment before replying with a simple, honest “No.”

Shouto lets out a long sigh, his warm hand leaving your ass and making you tense in preparation.

“So you wore this little number thinking you would just show it to whomever you went home with?” Oh, that’s where he’s going with this.

Again, you’re not sure how to answer. Either way will be unsatisfactory— either you say yes and that would certainly result in a jealous smack, or you say no and he’d spank you for lying to him. You cannot come to a decision fast enough, and the next frigid slap across your other ass cheek steals your breath away as you whimper, your pussy clenching in sadistic delight.

“Answer me, angel. Or I’ll turn this flawless little ass of yours scarlet.”

“I bought it for you!” You blurt out meekly, your cheeks flushing with mortification. It’s not a direct answer to his question, but it’s more than enough to amuse him.

The warmth of his left hand feels hotter this time as it curves around your irritated skin. “Oh?” Shouto all but purrs, his brow raised in interest. “For me, angel?”

You nod, even though your head is below his eye level. “I was gonna wear it tonight, just for you,” you whisper sincerely, blush bright red as your thumbs rub over your knuckles in a self-soothing manner. Deciding you’re already deep enough into your embarrassing confession, you finish your thought with your eyes scrunched shut as you prepare yourself for what you know will come next. “But you rainchecked, so I… thought Shinsou might enjoy it instead.”

Shouto remains eerily quiet for a moment, your heartbeat accelerating wildly as he leaves you waiting, questioning just how he will react. Your body jumps as his left hand swirls around your hips, his arm resting on your back to gather your ass higher across his lap. The neat bows on your panties unravel at your hips, the cool air hitting your swollen cunt as the material is snatched away and discarded. He forces you to wait for another dizzying pause, the urge to squirm in his grasp tempting but you force yourself to stay motionless.

Tears spring into your eyes as his palm crashes against you, his arctic hand causing your body to thrash in recoil, and a strong gust of chilled wind slapping against your dripping folds. A shaky breath escapes you, morphing into a distraught cry when his hot thumb plunges into your aching core, rubbing and curling against your shuddering walls with spite.

“I thought I told you not to say his fucking name,” Shouto jeers, taking his thumb out of you to rub mercilessly betwen your petals, spreading your abundant slick with ease. Coasting down to your clit, he smirks as you sob, your legs quaking.

Your hips jut backwards on their own accord, forcing his thumb to penetrate your cunt again. You moan at the stimulation, squeezing the digit and grinding so it presses against your velvet walls.

He chuckles, pressing the finger as deep as he can and savoring the shameless wails the action induces. “How can you look so pure and act so naughty?” He wonders aloud, his frosty hand trailing along your thigh as he works his thumb inside of you. “You’re really just a little slut, aren’t you? Fucking yourself with my finger so brazenly.” He sighs as he feels your core clenching around his thumb, grinning as you whine at the loss of the digit.

“Please, just fuck me,” you exclaim, turning your face to look at his haughty gaze above you,  “Make me forget about anyone else!”  

Shouto pinches your inflamed ass cheek, forcing another whimper to croak out of your throat. “Aha, is that your game, angel? Want me to fuck you so hard I’m the only man you see? Fuck this little pussy so good no other cock can satisfy you, hmm?” He maneuvers your body effortlessly, positioning you to face him as you sit on his lap. The smooth material of his slacks irritates your sore ass slightly, but all you can bring yourself to do is nod, your arms shuffling behind you with the want to reach out and touch him.

His hands settle on the apex of your thighs, rugged fingertips soothing the skin there before he lifts your body, standing and placing you neatly on the floor before him. Casting an innocent look up at him, you shuffle to your knees, arching your back to your breasts and ass pop out for his aerial vantage point.

“You know what to do, don’t you baby?” Shouto snickers as he untucks his shirt and begins to snap open the buttons down the center of his chest, revealing his creamy skin to your lustful eyes. Leaving the shirt on with his abs on display, he undoes the clasp and zip at the front of his hips, slowly unveiling the delicious V tapering south below his slacks. You squirm in impatience, eyes glued to the trail of fine, bicolored hair he uncovers as his slacks sag tantalizingly slow. His thumbs slither underneath the elastic band across his pelvis, lowering the hem just enough to show you the base of his thick, hard cock. “Alright, angel,” he rumbles, and you feel a stray bead of arousal drip down your thigh at his gruff tone, “Convince me you deserve to have this cock in you.”

As soon as he shoves his briefs low enough for his length to spring free, your lips drown his cockhead with haste, your tongue welcoming his hot, heavy tip with eager flicks. Shouto groans when you suck abruptly, your cheeks hollowing as you allow his member to drive deeper into your mouth. His hand landing on the back of your head, you take that as your cue to leap forward, slamming the entirety of his impressive cock into your open throat as your nose brushes into his abdomen.

“Fuck, Y/N!” Shouto gasps, his hips bucking into your face and shoving the tip of his dick into the depths of your throat.

Tears beading in your eyes, you refuse to let up, releasing a loud moan that makes his cock vibrate. Shouto throws his head back, his fingers curling in your hair as his hips recede, leaving only the tip inside your mouth and you gratefully take in a breath of air before he shoves back in.

“You take my cock so well, angel— fuuuuck, just like that,” he grumbles, pistoning into your face at a slow, deep tempo, the back of your throat caressing his tip delectably as a fat tear races down your cheek. Your cheeks flush pink and your chest tightens from the lack of air, but Shouto’s low grunts falling on your greedy ears has your cunt pulsing with need, your spit trickling down your chin. Shouto’s rabid gaze locks with yours, monitoring your wet eyes and your pleading pout as he speaks, “You look so beautiful slobbering on me like this, my little slut.”

You flutter your eyelashes at him, humming on his length as you continue to bob back and forth. Your tongue lathering the veiny underside of his length, the promiscuous flavor of salty pre blooms on your tastebuds. Your head recedes back, keeping just the swollen head inside your mouth as you twirl your tongue in circles around him.

You pop his cock out of your mouth, and send him a closed-lip, coy smile as you smear the slick tip against your mouth. Shouto sighs when your half-lidded gaze meets his, your tongue poking out and curving to dawdle up and down his length.

“That’s enough, baby. Come here.” Shouto bends and picks you up from the floor, kneeling on the mattress and crawling toward the center with you in his arms. Your back collides with the silky sheets, your arms awkwardly stuck behind you with the tie rubbing your wrists. Shouto opens your legs, hovering over your body and making you suddenly feel small in comparison to him. Your cunt parts at the motion, exposing your twitching, saturated hole to him and sending a fresh blush to your cheeks. One hand propping himself up, the other stroking your cheek gingerly, he ushers you to look at him. He whispers to you, his voice calm yet enticing, “You want me to make you feel good, angel?”

“Please,” you implore, your voice hoarse and quiet from his abuse on your throat, “Please touch me, Shouto.” Your mind hazy with a lascivious fog clouding your senses, you can barely find the words to beg.

Even just his hands floating down to your breasts makes you shiver. Your lip between your teeth again, Shouto smirks at you as his fingers pinch the ribbon holding your bra together. Deliberately taking his time, he unravels the neat bow, examining how the silky fabric falls apart so smoothly. The bra cups fall to the side, exposing the smooth skin of your breasts to his feasting eyes. You release a string of mewls as his lips graze the marks he’d left behind earlier, darkening the blemishes with gentle bites. Tongue tracing around your areola, your thighs squeeze around his waist when the warm muscle brushes along a pebbled nipple. Pressing your lips together harshly as he sucks the pert bud into his mouth, your hips jolt against his. His hand kneads your other breast expertly, tweaking your nipple between his skilled fingers. The rough pads of his fingertips only make your nipples stand out more, scraping against you and sending your head spinning.

“You like that, Y/N? Want all my attention on you, don’t you, greedy girl?” Shouto purrs, your breast falling from his lips as he grins at your cheekily.

Swallowing another moan, your breath comes out ragged as you retort, “I could say the same for you, baby.” His fingers on your nipple press together in a pinch, eliciting a strained whimper from you.

Shouto chuckles, poking his tongue out to rove over your other breast, flicking the nub playfully before he speaks a single word. “Touché.” Drifting lower between your legs, his lips leave a wet path down your torso, nibbling and slickening your skin. His mouth littering your body with kisses, an artist eager to make a fresh blank canvas his own. Hot breath colliding with your glistening sex, he groans at the sight of you spread before him. “But damn, angel, can you really blame me?”

Without any warning, he thrusts his tongue into your folds, swiping vertically along your slit and dipping into your entrance with a moan, eyes closed as he relishes your sweet nectar. Your hips dig into the mattress as you struggle to handle the instant relief his touch provides, unfiltered noises of pleasure escaping you. One of his hands slides underneath your thigh to cup your ass and bring your body closer to his face.  

Every time Shouto’s mouth is on you, you’re reminded of just how good he is at pleasuring you. He alternates between rubbing his tongue along your silky inner walls and curling the muscle around your clit, sucking the nerve into his mouth and applying just enough suction to steal your breath away. Your body reacts to his touch naturally, with each moan summoned true and raw.

His fingers prod your sex gently, coating the digits in your essence before they slide into your body at a snail’s pace. The friction of his touch inside of you makes your legs clamp around his head, eliciting a deep laugh from the man that reverberates against your clit. Your eyes roll backwards as he begins to pump the digits at a reasonable pace, knuckles curling deeply in search of that plush spot that makes you fall apart underneath him. Saliva mixing with your arousal, Shouto’s chin is drenched in the sinful concoction as he continues his hunt with determination.

“S-Shit,” you choke as his fingertips push into just the right place, your thighs gripping his head so tight you think you’ll crush him. But Shouto doesn’t seem to care, angling his wrist to gain better access, lithe fingers speeding up as his teeth graze your clit. His vigilant eyes fix on your face twisted in ecstasy, minding how your pussy begins to clench onto his digits in desperation, trying their best to suck them back inside. Your heels dig into his broad back as your body begins to squirm, preparing for your first orgasm of the night.

But just as you’re about to tip over the edge, Shouto pulls back. Your eyes fly open to look at him in distress, your lips parting with a gasp as your climax flees without a trace. “Shouto!” You hiss, regarding his sultry smirk in shock. This man has some audacity. “I was about to-”

He interrupts you, his fingers gliding back into your core without resistance, lips wrapping around your clit again. The sudden pleasure of the intensity stokes the mere embers of your previous orgasm with fervor, your head flinging backwards onto the pillow as your spine bows.

Your palms behind your back are slick with sweat, your hardened nipples cutting into the still air of the room as your body writhes on its own accord. Your thighs tremble ever-so-slightly on top of his shoulders, your eyes shutting again as you try your best to hold in your whimpers.

But Shouto doesn’t like that, his mouth abandoning your pearl to snarl, “If you wanna cum I’ve gotta hear your voice. I wanna hear you beg for me, baby.”

His dirty words send a new wave of humiliation crashing over you, your mind horrified at your body’s betrayal. Your submissive demeanor is by no means akin to your usual behavior during your weekly rendezvous, and you’re honestly impressed and shocked that Shouto had coaxed it out with such ease. Already you can feel the tension building in your core, your body happily receptive of his generous caress. Your chest heaves as you attempt to even your frazzled breaths, but once your focus switches to that, the pleasure increases exponentially between your legs. Your cunt quivers obviously, Shouto’s eyebrow raising as he shoots you a taunting look.

“I’m the only one who can get you so close so quick, angel. Aren’t I?” His mouth leaves your clit to speak but his teeth capture the nerve instead as he speaks, his hot breath steaming against your throbbing cunt.

Your chin against your chest, you nod vigorously, your hips inching closer to close the distance between your cunt and his mouth. Your fingers curled into fists against the sheets, your back sticks to the sheets with perspiration.

Shouto shakes his head, teeth releasing your aching clit as he clicks his tongue at you. “I said, let me hear you, Y/N.” His fingers pull out, the fingertips just barely inside as he rims your entrance, just enough to keep your pussy throbbing. He exhales, an icy breath rushing over your sopping sex.

“N-No!” You wail, your voice nearly breaking as your orgasm fades away once again. You were so fucking close! You let out another sob, tossing your head to the side in humiliating agony.

“There’s that divine voice of yours,” Shouto chuckles, nipping your inner thigh playfully. Taking his fingers away, his thumb replaces them as it glides over your soaked slit, dipping into your clenched core amusedly before tearing it away again. Your destitute whine only feeds his dominance, and he rolls his thumb over your puffy nerve gently, enjoying how your hips buck weakly in response. “Come on now, angel. Just tell me what I want to hear.”

Your chest jolts as his thumb presses down just a pinch, cruising down to rub your entrance brusquely. “You’re the only one that can make me so breathless, Shouto. Please,” your voice wavers as you grovel, eyes locking with his, “Please, make me cum! I need your touch, I need your cock, I— I need you!”

Shouto’s gaze flickers for a moment before he smirks, ducking down to kiss your clit softly. “See, baby? Was that so hard?” He murmurs, his words rumbling on your shivering pussy before his tongue parts your folds, driving deep inside you.

You scream at the intense bliss as his thumb works quickly over your clit, his tongue assaulting your velvet insides. Your thighs weakly tighten around his head, your body unable to stay still as the pleasure wracks through you. Lewd moans and swears tumble out of you as you grind against his face, thrilled by the way his tongue never tires. The pressure between your legs is back and faster heightening, your eyes flying open in shock at how astonishingly fast your climax is approaching.

“S-Shouto, I— I’m—,” is all that you can get out before you seize in his arms, your entire body spasming in ecstasy. Shouto only pins your hips down against the mattress with his free hand, forcing your legs to stay open as he continues to assault your cunt, tongue pummeling your tender core and thumb abusing your clit. You can’t even let out a moan because your lungs are empty— all that slithers out of you a string of shrill and broken cries. The pleasure thrums through your body from head to toe, your fingers and toes curling and splaying as sweat runs down your skin.

Shouto diligently continues to lap at your cunt, slurping up the fresh essence dripping out of you onto the sheets. When he pulls back all he can see is your blissed-out, flustered expression, and your nipples standing upright in arousal. Wiping his chin with the back of his hand, he tears the shirt off his shoulders in one swift motion. His slacks shed just as quick, he grabs your hips and throws you onto your front, your face once again in his pillow. “You came without my permission, angel. You wanna be a slut? I’ll treat you like a fucking slut,” he snarls, rugged palms coiling around your hips and forcing them into the air, bending your spine so your body transforms into a delicious arch.

Your heart slams against your ribs in apprehension, your mind still too woozy to make a complaint as his cock plunges inside of you. Your walls spread for his length welcomingly, your arousal and your cum lubricating your cunt. Your eyes roll back at the fullness— the stretch of him stuffing your cunt with his thick cock so delectably euphoric. You’re so wet that it doesn’t even hurt as he impales you, pleasure the only feeling coursing through you.

Shouto growls, your pussy hugging his length so snugly he has to take a moment for his head to stop spinning. “Fuuuck,” he utters huskily, sliding out halfway and inspecting how your cunt grips his slippery cock so desperately.

You cry out as he thrusts back in, the angle already perfectly locating your g-spot and making stars flash across your vision. Your body shakes as a palm cracks against your ass, more tears collecting on your lower lashes at the pain that hurts so good.

Shouto grabs the tie around your wrists with the other hand, yanking your body backwards to slap against his hard torso. Hands flying to your hips, he drills into you as he holds you upright against him. Your breasts bounce as your back arches, cunt trembling at the familiar tension building deep inside of you.

“You wanna fuckin’ cum already, don’t you, slut?” Shouto barks, a hand leaving your hip to hold your breast, trapping your nipple between his long fingers. The friction he provides is exquisite, and long, unabashed moans float out of your parted lips.

“Yes! Yes! Please— Make me cum, Shouto!” You howl, your toes curling at the sacred pleasure so close to peaking within you. Lips latched onto the claim he had laid on your neck, his teeth pinch your skin. His ragged grunts in your ear make your core clench around him, about to reach salvation for the second time.

“Do it, Y/N. I want my slutty angel pussy to cum all over this cock,” he commands, forcing your hips to crash down onto his so his tip jabs your g-spot harshly.

Your body collapses at his approval, cunt squeezing and fluttering and leaking onto him as you release a lewd scream. White hot bliss shoots through you as sinful tides of delirium pull you under. Your body trembles as the ecstasy pulses in your veins, your jaw unhinged and your eyes rolled into your skull.

Shouto pushes you forward so your torso falls flat against the mattress limply. His hips do not stall, continuing to push into your tightened cunt with determination as he drags out your orgasm. “Where’s my nasty little brat now?” He laughs crudely, slapping your ass gently and grabbing the reddened flesh, pulling your hips back against his. “Nothing to say, hmm?”

As if your brain is functional enough to form words. Your limbs feel like jello, wiggling with pleasure and shock as he advances his plight. Your throat is dry from all the panting, your ass sore underneath Shouto’s oppressive grip. But it feels so fucking good, you can’t bring yourself to tell him to stop.

Shouto sucks a breath in between his grinding teeth, watching how your ass bounces against his pelvis as his cock slides into your depths. Sweat dripping down his chest and along your back, his hold on you is tight enough to cut off circulation. His lip twitches as he recognizes his orgasm creeping up inside, and he groans as he pulls out of you abruptly.

You whine at the loss, but you’re silenced immediately as he flips your body and presses his lips to yours. His kiss is pleasantly soft, a harsh contrast to his rough hands which slide around your back and fumble with the tie around your wrists. His tongue pushes inside your mouth, searching for yours and caressing it at first touch. Once the silky material slips off you, his hands rove over your breasts, massaging the heavy flesh tenderly as his cock brushes along your slit. A string of saliva stretches between you as his lips leave yours, a hot, breathy sigh fanning over your face. “This beautiful body is all mine, Y/N,” he whispers, tip slipping between your folds and entering your cunt with ease.

Your eyelids flutter shut at the feeling of your aching hole being filled once again, but the pain makes the pleasure so much more enjoyable. His lips wander along your neck as he begins to thrust into you, your legs wrapping around his waist. He kisses along your clavicle and down your breast, tongue washing over your nipple as his cock brushes along your velvet walls so perfectly.

The friction has your eyes nearly crossed, and the pleasure only intensifies when Shouto guides your legs to rest against his chest, your ankles by his ears. The angle allows greater access, his thick member reaching new depths that elicit a sharp gasp from you. His left hand pushes your abdomen down slightly, his thumb travelling south to flick along your clit lazily.

“Shit, Shouto, I— s-so sensitive,” you whimper, your hand timidly reaching out to rest on his flexing abdominal muscles. The sensation of him dragging against your g-spot so sensually causes your bottom lip to tremble, a tear sneaking down your cheek to land in your hair.

Shouto’s large hand guides yours to land on your thigh, and he tucks his arm so his own hand covers yours as he pulls your thighs closer to him. “One more, baby,” he moans, the thumb on your clit speeding up.

The extra attention summons that familiar build up in your core, a long whine falling from your lips. “I can’t, I can’t,” you mewl but your body says otherwise, pussy tightening slightly as your ankles cross behind his neck.

“I thought you wanted to cum, angel?” He uses your words against you as he sighs, hips picking up to ram into yours. He holds his breath as you clamp down on him, your sinful expression fueling his impending orgasm. “You gonna make me finish on my own?”

The thought of him blowing his load into you has you biting your lip, your hips shuffling against his. Shouto moans, thumb circling your puffy nerve even faster as he continues to pound into you. The sound of your skin slapping together fills the room, the only noise to interrupt that your huffs and moans.

Steam billows from Shouto’s nose as his eyes nearly close, his abs flexing out of his torso as he fights to keep his orgasm at bay. His heavy breath and visible restraint convince your body to give in, and you weep as you sink into euphoria for the third time tonight. Shouto’s right there with you, a strangled growl mixed with a moan ripping from his lungs as his seed spurts into you, his cock twitching and balls draining as he falls to his elbows above you.

Your body feels sluggish as your limbs tremble slightly, the high from your orgasm still clouding your brain as your arms wrap around Shouto’s shoulders. His cold breath refreshes the moist, flushed skin on your neck, long eyelashes tickling your jaw as your nails scrape carefully down his spine.

When he pulls out your body feels incomplete, but Shouto nuzzles into your jaw affectionately, his hands sliding between the damp sheets and your skin to hold you close. He scatters sluggish, persistent kisses along your throat and up your jaw. And when he moves to your face, they only become longer and more intimate, gently guiding you back to reality.

You sigh in content as you lean in to capture his lips, moving sweet and slow against each other. Your digits amble into his hair, combing back the soft tresses so you can see more of his charming face. He moans at your touch, pleased by the soothing sensation of your fingers feathering along his scalp. His own hand follows your lead, fingers steering a stray hair off your forehead and gliding into your tresses to hold your head in his palm.

The pair of you continue to kiss for who knows how long, touching each other tenderly and savoring the feeling of skin against skin. Your lips melding into one, cradling one another fragilely as if you mutually fear the other will break without your embrace. You could spend eternity like this, high off his ambrosial, tender care.

You are the one to pull away first, knowing Shouto would keep this going until morning if he didn’t think you’d come back down from your high. Not that you would mind that, but you should probably clean up the mess that your passionate session had created— his release beginning to trickle out of you onto the sheets. As he pulls back, the emotions swirling in his striking two-toned gaze shock you. His brow is slightly creased as he nibbles at the corner of his lip, eyes darting around your face.

“I’ll be right back,” he murmurs, sitting up and scooting off the mattress, disappearing around the corner of the bathroom door. The sound of water splashing in the sink fills the silence as you sit still, closing your eyes as the cogs in your brain begin to turn.

Oh god, you’d been so shameless tonight— you’d taunted him and he had made you fall apart and beg in return, bending to his every command. Sure, he had always been the dominant one in your rendezvous before, but tonight was different. He had been jealous, when he had no right to be. But is that why your heart is beating so quickly in your chest? Suddenly you’re anxious, overthinking as usual. This is just sex, right?

But then, why did you leave Shinsou’s side so quickly at the bar when Shouto had been the one to cancel on you? And then there was that, too— why had he just ditched his friends in the middle of boys’ night when it was the reason he cancelled on you in the first place? And he had clearly been furious at the thought of you spending the night with another man. Was it because he knew Shinsou? Or was it because he wanted to be exclusive with you?

Well, if he wanted to be exclusive friends with benefits, isn’t that the same thing as dating? Would he ever date someone like you? Wait, would you even be willing to date him? Do you want him to be your… boyfriend? Your eyes widen and a pink girlish blush emerges on your cheeks at the label. What are you, eight years old? Why do you feel so giddy at the possibility of him wanting you, for more than your body?

Shouto strolls out of the bathroom just in time to catch that embarrassing look on your face, but he only smiles sincerely at you and it makes you blush even harder. What the hell? You’re extra submissive for one night and now you’re thinking about your feelings for him? Wait, did you just admit you have feelings for him?

He clambers over to you in the middle of the bed, a washcloth draped on his slender finger. He leans down and pecks you like it’s no big deal, humming as his lips linger on yours just long enough to make you want more. Your body jumps at the feeling of the damp warmth the towel provides, but you relax as the feeling soothes your aching core.

“Was that okay? How do you feel, baby?” Shouto asks softly, watchful eyes gauging your expression as you look at him. “You seemed like you were enjoying yourself, but, I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

You let out a breathless, mirthful chuckle at his concern, reaching out to put your hand on his strong arm. “No, I’m fine. And it was… great. Mind-blowing, actually,” you smile at him bashfully, hoping it was just as good for him.

Shouto’s eyes twinkle as he smiles back, nodding slowly. “It was, wasn’t it?” He helps you sit up, maneuvering you carefully off the bed and gesturing for you to use the bathroom.

After relieving yourself, you look at yourself in the mirror that hangs above the sink, vision falling on the massive bruise blossoming on your neck. You sigh when you inspect the purple mark, but when your gaze floats back to your face, you’re dumbstruck to find yourself grinning like a fool. Terror and thrill floods through you at the realization that if any other guy had left a mark this nasty on you, you’d be furious. And yet, having Shouto’s claim on you makes you feel like the luckiest girl on the planet.

Shit. Looks like you do want him to be your boyfriend.

You’re half expecting the reflection to show a stupid cartoon character with the way that your heart feels like it’s thumping out of your chest. Taking in a deep breath, you determinedly point at yourself in the mirror and breath out shakily, “You can do this.”

Exiting the bathroom, you return to find Shouto leaning against the headboard, the sheets pulled up to his waist and his fingers rubbing together awkwardly. His eyes on his lap, he almost looks anxious. But he notices your presence right away, peeling back the corner of the blanket and beckoning you to slide in.

Placing yourself stiffly on the side of the bed, you take in his confused expression. “I need to tell you something,” you say as steadily as possible. Man, that’s a scary sentence, even if you’re not on the receiving end.

Shouto’s lips part and he looks like he wants to say something, but he swallows whatever it was down and nods, his expression guarded. “I’m all ears,” he replies, placing his hand on the pillow in front of you.

With the spotlight on you, your throat feels dry as dirt, and you nervously shuffle, suddenly very conscious of your nakedness. “Um,” falls out of your mouth, anything to split the suffocating silence. Your palms are clammy, and your fingers delve into the folds of the sheets to hide your nerves. “I know this is gonna sound kind of lame, but… well, I um…” Shouto’s gaze is burning your face, your cheeks redder than ever as you will this humiliation to just end already. Sucking in another breath, the words blurt out of you. “I have feelings for you.”  

The surprise on his features is unmistakable. All you can do is stare at him, frozen in uncertainty but strangely enough it feels like a weight has been lifted off your chest. A heavy one at that— one whose existence you refused to acknowledge until ten minutes ago.

“R-Really?” Shouto stutters, looking like he’s just seen a ghost with how wide his eyes are.

You aren’t sure how to take that response, but as soon as your gaze falls from his, his hand shoots out to latch onto your wrist. When you look back at him, a different emotion is painted over his face, one of… hope?

“I have feelings for you, too, Y/N,” he whispers, his own blush dusting over his cheeks. His eyes are soulful and hold nothing but candor and content.

Before you can process his words, his hands are rounding your waist and pulling your body toward his. A different kind of high bursts through you as his lips touch yours, joy storming through the both of you and warm, tingly static crackling between you. These kisses feel different— your heart feels like it’s about to pop, swelling with excitement and relief. Shouto begins to laugh against your lips, and the alluring sound infects you, too, as you join him with a giggle. The both of you are laughing at nothing in particular, but you don’t need a reason to let the noises of elation loose.

Once your laughter ceases, Shouto collects your chin in his hand and places a gentle kiss upon your grinning lips. When he pulls back, his eyes contain a wisp of that jealous fire that had consumed him only hours earlier, and he shoots you a mischievous smirk as he squeezes your ass playfully. “Do you think Shinsou could ever make you feel this good, angel?”

You roll your eyes, chuckling in exasperation at this man’s relentless, absurd envy. “Hmm,” you pretend to think for a moment before you lean closer to him, hands hung loosely around the back of his neck. “Shinsou? Never heard of him.”

  ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

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you reached the end!! thanks for reading this long ass fic lmao, i know it was an investment. I hope the ending was not too cringe, I usually just end my fics after the nut but I wanted to try something new :’)  be sure to lmk if you enjoyed <3

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[magpie-to-the-morning]

Pull the Blinds - Part Three

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Pairing: Javier Peña x Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 4k

Tags: Established Relationship, Journalist reader, no Y/N, Established relationship, Dom!Javi, female reader, unprotected p in v sex (don’t do that), fingering (female receiving), oral sex (female receiving), rough sex, name calling, aftercare

Summary: A failed raid sends Javi spinning, desperate to take the edge off. Luckily for both of you, you’re also in need of something to take your mind off work. This is the third in a series, but they can be read individually.

Huge thank you to @keeper0fthestars​ for the encouragement, brainstorming/co-thirsting, and beta’ing when I couldn’t look at this anymore. Love you babe! 😘

Part One - Part Two - My Masterlist

Read on Ao3

“God damn it,” you slam your folder shut and tear your glasses off to pinch the bridge of your nose. You’ve hit a dead end on this assignment and even taking the day to work from home, all your papers spread out on the kitchen table before you, hasn’t helped. Tension is radiating down your neck and shoulders, lines of stress and pain only worsening the harder you try to force yourself to think through the problem. Pressing a thumb between your brows eases that tension somewhat, and you’re just standing up to take a well-earned break when you hear someone pounding at your door.

You freeze. You’re not expecting anyone. Normally you wouldn’t be so concerned (it’s the middle of the afternoon, after all, and you live in a decent neighborhood), but between your career as an investigative journalist and the drug war tearing Colombia apart at the seams, it never hurts to be cautious. Reaching behind the sofa, you pull out a baseball bat before inching towards the door. The door rattles on its hinges, the knocking louder and more insistent than before. This is no casual visit. 

“Who is it?” Your voice is level, even as your knuckles tighten around the aluminum and you take a deep breath in, out. Your mind is already spinning through potential scenarios- has someone clocked your undercover work, tracked you to your home? Adrenaline surges through you, your body screaming at you to be ready for anything, and you only relax a fraction when you hear a familiar, muffled, “It’s me.”

“Javi?” A glance through the peephole confirms that it is Javi, palms braced against your door jam, his dark brown hair slick with sweat and his green, DEA-issued tactical vest wrapped around his chest. His gun is holstered, hanging from the leather belt slung low around his narrow waist. No immediate danger, then. 

Setting the bat down you open the door, eyes wide with concern. “Everything okay?” You look behind him, expecting to see the street lined with official vehicles and men bristling with guns, but there’s just his Bronco, parked rushed and crooked against the curb. 

Javi’s already brushing past you so you shut the door and follow him. None of this is like him, not the disheveled state of his hair or the sweat-drenched pink shirt clinging to him, and certainly not him barging in, looking like he’s just come from a raid. You get in front of him, taking in his wild eyes, the way he can’t seem to keep still. It’s unnerving, and not doing a damn thing to reassure you that he’s remotely okay or to calm your own racing heart, but you adopt your calmest tone and say “Javier. Talk to me.”

Finally seeming to actually see you, Javi stops pacing for a moment to answer you. “We had them, we fucking had them!” 

You’ve never seen Javi like this. It’s not that he never brings the work home with him- how could he not? You’ve seen him exhausted, worn out from lack of sleep and endless hours spent chasing leads that go nowhere. You know what it’s like when the seeming futility and endless bureaucracy wear him down, seen him stressed and frustrated and devastated by loss. But you’ve never seen him like this- electrified, explosive. It’s all you can do to meet his raw, frayed energy with your own carefully constructed calm. “Slow down. Tell me what happened.”

Javi gives you the gist. Nothing confidential, nothing that would put either of your professional ethics in jealousy, but enough to see the shape of the thing. A raid, weeks in the planning, turned up nothing but an empty warehouse. Someone must have tipped the targets off, warning them before the DEA could spring their trap.

You wince. You know the effort that had gone into it, the countless hours of sifting through transcripts, painstakingly confirming scraps of rumors whispered through hushed calls. Weeks of work, wasted, all gone to ashes in mere moments. No arrests to show for it and worse, a potential leak. Javi’s desperation makes sense to you now. If one of your investigations had imploded this catastrophically you’d be out for blood, too. 

But of course, there’s nothing he can do about it. Not yet. Not until the dust has settled and the analysts can come up with new leads. Until then, Javi just has to sit with the knowledge that his last several weeks of work have been utterly wasted, that the cartel has slipped from their grasp yet again, and are likely laughing their heads off about it from a safe distance, all while plotting their next devastating move. It’s eating him alive.

His story finished, Javi heaves a sigh and scrubs his hands over his face, still coated in a sheen of sweat. Belatedly, he takes in your scattered papers, the chair shoved away from the table where you were working when he burst in. “Shit, you were in the middle of something, sorry. I shouldn’t have burst in on you like this, I just-” he shrugs vaguely, still looking bewildered and only half present.

“Hush.” You lay a hand on his chest, can feel it rising with every heaving breath beneath the solid tac vest, and tip his face up so his eyes meet yours. “What do you need?” 

You’re assuming it’ll be something like ice water or, more likely, a shot of whiskey. Maybe a shower to cool off. He’s got some clothes in a drawer in your bedroom, maybe he’ll feel better if he changes…?

While you’re brainstorming potential solutions, Javi is staring at you with all the intensity of a panther sizing up its next meal. Before the thought can properly register, he surges toward you, so suddenly your back hits the counter, its edge digging into your lower back as his arms surround you. His broad hands clutch at the fabric of your dress, making the skirt ride dangerously high up your thighs. His lips crash against yours, slanting and molding to you as he grabs the back of your head. When you gasp he deepens the kiss, his hand clenching in your hair as he tips your head back, plundering your mouth so aggressively you feel teeth. It’s only after those teeth nip sharply at your bottom lip that he pulls back, his breathing ragged. 

“I’m sorry, I’m not- I should go.” He hunches his shoulders like he’s ashamed to be seen like this and makes for the door. 

Oh. So that’s what he needs. You can picture it now- him bending you over the counter and taking you, hard, right then and there, using you to work the sharp edge off his temper. Just the idea of it, Javi pouring that frustration into fucking you, is thrilling. Besides, turning your brain off for a bit, giving yourself over to all that fury is exactly what you need right now, and he thinks he needs to shield you from that impulse? Hell, no.

You stop him with one touch of your hand. “Don’t go.” Javi’s head jerks up and he stands rigid as you press yourself against him, your hips touching, your hands moving over the taut lines of his arms. “You clearly need to take the edge off.” He hisses as your lips close on his trapezius, your tongue flicking out to taste the salt on his skin. “And I could use a distraction,” you croon. 

“I’m too worked up- I don’t want to hurt you, cariño,” he bites out, even as he looks at you like he could eat you alive and spit out your bones, still hungry for more. 

Javi knows you like it rough. Hell, he’s fucked you through gritted teeth and snarls enough times to know you love it that way. This is different. This is burning rage and rough hands, the difference between training rounds and live fire. 

You want all of it.

Your lips curl in a knowing smile and you straddle his thigh, denim-clad muscle taut against the scrap of cotton separating your bodies beneath your skirt. You grind down on him and meet his burning gaze. “Not even a little?” 

He growls at your challenge, a caged jungle cat, all sleek, bunched muscle and barely checked savagery. He eyes you up and down, assessing, his knuckles tightening against the counter. He runs a thumb over his lower lip and that’s when you know he’s genuinely considering it. You clench and shudder in anticipation, eyes locked on him as he demands “give me your safeword.”

“Javi, you know what it is.” The two of you had chosen it months ago, a reminder of the vacation you’re always meaning to take but never quite get around to.

He leans closer, eyes dark and grin darker. “Remind me,” he rumbles, clutching the edge of the counter he’s got your back up against. 

Your throat bobs as you swallow. He’s so close. You can see the sweat sliding down the planes of his neck, feel the edge of his tac vest digging into you, practically taste the bitter tang of unspent adrenaline. The thrill of the hunt rolls off of him in waves, the livewire burn of his need sparking an answering flare in your blood. You have to lick your lips before answering in a whisper “It’s Aruba.”

“Good girl,” he purrs, his voice the inescapable rumble of an impending landslide. His nose drags against your cheek, his lips ghosting over your jawline. “And you’ll use it if you need to.” He’s no longer asking. He’s telling. 

 “Yes, Javi.”

His teeth close on your earlobe sharply. “Yes, what?”

Another shiver runs through you. “Yes, sir.”

“That’s fucking right.” Without further warning, Javi grabs you by your upper arm and shoves you towards the bedroom. 

Your heart rate spikes, blood thrumming in time with Javi’s heavy tread marching you down the hallway. His grip is fierce, his expression fiercer, and you suddenly wonder what it’s like to go toe to toe with this man, Agent Peña, in the field. For all his honor and dedication to justice, there’s a streak of ruthlessness running through the heart of him, a need to see the mission through to the end, no matter the cost. Javier is a good man, better than he’ll admit to himself, but that darkness is there. Not a flaw, not really. A smoky occlusion in the ruby heart of him, one more facet in the complex matrix of his inner self.

This knowledge isn’t new to you, but Javi letting you see it firsthand is. It doesn’t scare you. Nothing about him ever could. You trust him, know him, too well for that. No, you’re honored that Javi is willing to show you the jagged edges of himself, to trust you to handle these broken pieces without either of you winding up bloodied.

As you step through the doorway to your bedroom, Javi pushes you towards the bed. “Strip.” His eyes rake over you hungrily, devouring every new bit of skin you reveal as you obey, dropping one garment after another on the floor of your bedroom. He watches, arms folded, still fully clothed, still wearing that tac vest that shorts your brain out. In no time you’re completely naked before him, your body on full display in the afternoon sun streaming through the windows, but he makes no move to undress. He sits in the middle of your bed, leaning his back against the headboard like he owns the place and crooks his finger at you. You crawl to him on hands and knees, letting him pull you into his lap.

“Tell me what you want, querida.” His voice is low and sweet, amber honey dripping into your ear while he noses at your cheek, the deep rumble of his voice reverberating through you. Fuck if that voice doesn’t go straight your cunt.

You squirm in his lap, shifting to straddle his waist, your naked sex molded to the bulge swelling beneath his tight jeans. “I want you to fuck me, Javi. Let me help you get rid of all that tension.” You reach up, start kneading his shoulders, but he tsks and pushes your hands aside.

“Not yet. Not until you’re ready.”

You jut out your lip in a mock pout. He’s the one who pounded on your door, amped up and aching, so it hardly seems fair that he’s turned the tables on you this easily, and yet... 

You’d expected him to take you quickly, to burn through you wildfire fast, but now that he’s got you where he wants you he’s intent on breaking you down slowly. 

Your fingers curl over the edge of his vest, clinging to him while he kisses you breathless. He’s in complete control, every gasp and jut of your hips unfolding at his urging. He tastes every part of you, his teeth closing over pulse points, tongue flicking over every dip and hollow of your body. You lose all sense of time when he reaches your breasts, drowning in sensation, only pulled back to the present when he pinches a nipple or bites down on the full moon swell of your breast. 

He leaves marks as he goes, livid reminders of his claiming every inch of you. You submit to all of it, your fingers scrabbling for purchase over the expanse of that heavy vest as Javi bears down on you. Heat is building in you with every bite and suck and caress, but your body is screaming out for more, more, more. It’s then that it finally hits you- the bastard is doing this deliberately. He wants you as keyed up as he is. That realization pitches you headlong into the blaze he’s been stoking all along and you moan, desperate for more. 

He indulges you, still painfully slowly, more fuel for the fire raging in both of you. Reaching down between you, he drags his fingers over your thighs, already slick with the desire dripping from you. “Christ, you’re so wet from just this. You like letting me do this, don’t you? Getting so worked up being my good little slut.” 

You gasp and nod, whimpering now that he’s so close to where you need him but still not quite there. He rewards you by finally pressing those thick, clever trigger fingers against your weeping cunt. He moves in slow, torturous circles, and you reach for him, try to kiss him, to beg wordlessly for more. He pulls away, chuckling at your eagerness. “No. Let me do this for you.” 

He knows damn well what he’s doing, pushing you to see when you’ll get impatient. You try to wait him out but forget yourself when he slips one finger into the molten clutch of your sex. It’s so good but you need more. “Please,” you murmur, moving to kiss him once more, your hand dropping between you, needing to feel him. Besides, a wicked, wanton part of you wonders what he’ll do if you disobey him like this. 

Your answer comes swiftly. Javi flips you onto your back with a snarl, one hand behind your head to cushion the sudden move. Grabbing your wrists in one hand, he hauls them above your head, pinning you in place. “What did I tell you? Hold still!” He slaps your pussy once, twice, three times in rapid fire succession, each hit harder than the last, leaving you stinging and aching for more. You moan and writhe in his hold, rubbing your thighs together, desperate for some kind of release. 

Javi watches you mercilessly. “Yeah, you like that? Filthy thing. Want me to do it again?” Your toes curl and he takes that as your answer, delivering one more slap to your cunt. He leaves his hand there, tracing slow, deliberate circles around your clit. The sudden tenderness, the tantalizing possibility of finally gaining some relief has you practically sobbing.  

“You gonna be a good girl and keep those hands to yourself?”

“Y-yes, Javi.” 

He pulls his hand away at once and you whimper, realizing your mistake as his expression darkens. “I know I didn’t just hear you forget your manners.”

“Sir,” you correct yourself quickly. “I meant, yes sir.” 

“That’s what I thought.” You know from experience that he loves this, temporarily reducing you to a pleading, pliant mess. He knows the trust this requires, and the way it frees you to give yourself over to pleasure completely. It’s a responsibility he never takes lightly. He always knows just how far to push, what boundaries to test or limits to prod, knowing that’s half the fun. As for the other half...

He works you open, one thumb on your clit, his fingers probing deeper and deeper inside you. Your breath hitches when he’s knuckle-deep, massaging that spot that makes you clench and shudder. He gets you off like this more times than you can count, sending waves of pleasure rippling through you from your curled toes to your tingling scalp. He strokes you and finger fucks you for what feels like an eternity, all the whole whispering sweet filth into your ear. Dark promises of how he intends to take you, to use you, all without filling you the way he knows you crave.

“Please, please fuck me. I need you so bad baby, I don’t think I have another one in me like this.” He’s made you cum so many times you’ve lost count, worked your clit until you’re completely over stimulated and begging for mercy. 

He has none. Instead of giving in, he delivers another harsh smack to your abused cunt. “Tell me who owns this pretty pussy.” 

“You do, Javi, please...” 

“Then give me one more.” He spits and you feel it land, slipping over your swollen folds. It’s lewd and obscene and forgotten the instant Javi lowers his head and licks the sting of the latest slap away. His broad tongue works you mercilessly, ripping another shuddering cry of his name from your lips as he brings you to the edge and shoves you over it once again.

“Get on your knees.” He makes you wait, arms trembling, pussy drenched and waiting while he gets up to undress. He misses nothing, clocking the instant when you clench, your throat bobbing, as he unbuckles his leather belt. Javi quirks an eyebrow and, folding it in half, he swats it once, hard enough to be loud but not enough to truly hurt, against your ass. An experiment more than anything else. You let slip a filthy moan, confirming his suspicion that you truly are this comfortable with rougher treatment. 

“Maybe next time, querida,” Javi chuckles. He tosses the belt aside, along with those tight jeans and every other bit of clothing, rejoining you on the bed. He takes his place behind you, hands clutching your hips as he teases your entrance with the fat head of his cock. You can feel how hard he is, the length of him like steel as he pushes himself lazily against your folds. It’s more agonizing buildup, and even when he finally, finally starts to fuck you, he does it with just the tip of his cock, thrusting shallowly, enough to make you clench without being filled. It’s torture. You try to push your hips back to take him deeper, but his firm grip holds you motionless.

“Something the matter, baby?”

You grit your teeth. If he doesn’t fuck you properly right the fuck now you might actually combust. “I need more Javi, please,” you beg. 

“Yeah, think you can take it?” 

Your only response is a desperate whine, met with a harsh chuckle. “You asked for it.” 

He shoves himself inside you in one savage thrust. Even with all of his teasing, the orgasms he’s already pulled from you, and the slick practically dripping from your swollen pussy, it’s a shock. You gasp, his thick cock plunging into you with a filthy squelch, and the sudden overwhelming fullness forces another climax from you without warning. You clamp around him and cry out, barely even registering the flood of wetness practically squirting from you, soaking the rough curls at the base of Javi’s cock. 

“Fuck that’s it,” he groans. “That’s my good - fucking - girl.” He thrusts into you in time with his words, working you through the sudden orgasm. As if your release was some sort of signal, this is the moment when Javi finally lets the leash of his control slip, fucking you like a man possessed. His hands grabbing your hips hard enough to bruise, he pulls you onto him as his hips slap against you, setting a brutal, punishing pace. 

You’re dimly aware that the harder the fucks you, the more your body slips against the sheets and away from him. Frustrated, Javi shifts his grip, pulling you up, your back flush against his chest and his arms bands of steel around your breasts. His breath is ragged in your ear and even when his teeth close on your shoulder, it does little to muffle his harsh grunts. 

Time slips away again and all you know is the bone-rattling ferocity of Javi fucking you like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. You’re so overwhelmed with pleasure you hardly know when one orgasm rolls into the next, all you know is that Javi has you in a death grip and you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Finally, through a haze of sweat and bliss, you feel him stiffen behind you, his hips stuttering and a strangled groan escaping him as he drops his head to your shoulder, his cock spitting deep inside you. You bury your hand in his hair, mutter soothing nonsense as he spills himself into you. When he finally stills, the two of you collapse into a heap on the bed, his body a comforting weight on yours.

You lay there, in a sweaty, blissed out tangle for several minutes, both trying to catch your breath. Javi recovers first, rolling off of you and gathering you into his arms. He pushes the hair from your eyes, his own going concerned when you’re still too boneless to respond to him calling your name.

Giving you some time to recover, he gets the arnica gel from your nightstand and is already smoothing it over the livid marks on your hips when you come back to yourself enough to speak.

“Mm, feels good,” you slur, rolling onto your side to give him better access. You’d introduced him to this particular remedy when he’d shown up with bruises after a particularly difficult arrest, and it had quickly become a favorite aftercare ritual whenever things turned rough in bed. Javi’s thick fingers glide soothingly over every ache and sting, though you catch his wrist when he moves to smooth the gel over the bite marks he left on your breasts. 

“Oh, baby, was I too rough here?” His eyes are soft with concern and the beginnings of apology, so you’re quick to shake your head no. You roll closer and brush away the sweat-slick curls threatening to hide his face. 

“It’s not that, Javi. I just… kind of like seeing the marks. The gel makes them heal faster, so leave a few for me, would you?” 

He kisses you. “Ok, wild thing,” he says affectionately. “Give me your wrists though, unless you want everyone at your office seeing what I did to you.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” you tease, but offer him your wrists nonetheless. He’s so gentle, cradling the back of your hand in his own massive palm, his fingers rubbing the gel into your wrist in slow, circular strokes. When he’s finished, he raises your hands to kiss your palms, eyes locked on yours with an intensity that makes you melt. 

“C’mere, baby.” Javi pulls you to lay on top of him, running his hands over your hair and pressing kisses to your face. “You good?”

It’s sweet, the way he fusses like this after having just taken you entirely apart, soothing you with the same single-minded determination he brings to every other part of his life, and you bask in the glow of his care. “Yeah Javi, I’m perfect.”

Javi huffs out a laugh at that. “I'll say.”

You shift in his arms to get a better look at him. He seems more like himself now, less agitated, more present. “Feeling better?”

“Much. I feel like I could sleep for a week.” He drops a kiss to the crown of your head and breathes out. You can feel his body relaxing as he does it, proof that he’s telling the truth. 

“Sleep then, I’m sure you need it.” He nods, his breathing already turning slow and even as he drifts towards rest. You close your eyes, about to join him when the solution to your work problem flashes through your mind, clear as day. As soon as you’re sure Javi has drifted off, you slip out of bed and back to work. 

Maybe you both could use that vacation after all…

[remember-to-be-gentle]

What would happened if Bruce Wayne went yandere for a vigilante who didn't fight or have any powers, since their power was the ability to be really nice to people. Like in the burning hellscape of Gotham they try their best to help people find pets or edit papers for people, and they made batman a handmade thank you card for keeping the city safe. Because they literally try to put a smile on people's faces, because they know how powerless people feel in Gotham and she's scared to live here too.

Subject: DC, Bruce Wayne

Title: Brighten! (Vigilante! Gender neutral reader)

Trigger Warning: Obsession, fluffy, kidnapping, drugs

The Dark Knight stared down at you, a young little thing in a handmade costume, extending to him a handmade card. "Who are you supposed to be?" He rasped.

You smiled as brightly as you could. "I'm Brighten!" You extended the card again, willing him to take it. "My super power is brightening people's day! Whether it's helping to decrease stress on a college student or helping people in need, I do my best to make sure the people of Gotham have a reason to smile."

A muscle in Bruce's jaw twitched. He couldn't tell if he was annoyed of smitten. You were fucking adorable, a truly pure hearted hearted hero who would get herself killed if you didn't drop the cape right now. "You're going to get yourself killed." He said.

Your smiled faltered. "I know that can happen, but just like how I help people, they help me, too. It gives me purpose and makes me feel good."

Bruce bit the inside of his cheek. "And the card?"

"Its for inspiring me," you were back to your full blinding smile, "you helped me and that made me want to help others in return."

Damn it. Not another one. Not another kid clawing at his cape with big doey eyes and a thirst for justice. "I can't accept that." Bruce turned away and glanced back at you, "Put the cape away and don't ever let me catch you in it again." Then he was gone.

Bruce thought that would be the end of it. Naturally, he looked into you and found your identity pretty easily. You were a young college grad that was working at a gas station. God, of course you wanted to make people smile, you needed to smile, too. He couldn't bring himself not to make a file on you, on every little life event that you and your parents posted on social media. He needed to be thorough, he thought, be thorough in his notes to better know how to stop you in the future if you put the cape back on.

You haunted him every day. Were you eating well? No, of course you weren't, you could barely afford rent. Did you find another hobby to make you happy? No, the news says Brighten is still on the prowl.

And then...

"Mr. Wayne?"

He jerked up, realizing far too late he'd gotten lost in thought about you. "What is it?"

The new secretary shifted his weight back and forth. "You have a visitor. She insisted on delivering a present to you herself. She won't leave either."

His first thought was Barbara or Cass, but they both had clearance to come up to his office. Maybe Stephanie or Harper then. "Send her in."

The secretary looked uncomfortable but didn't question him. He went out of the room and brought back in... You. "I'll leave you to it," the secretary said, and ducked out of the room.

"Hello, Mr. Wayne." You approached his desk, hands behind your back.

Bruce knew how Batman had touched your life, but how had Bruce Wayne? He hadn't done anything in your neighborhood recently. Calmly Bruce asked, "How can I help you?"

"I made you a card." You smiled that beautiful bright smile and set the card on his desk.

Ice traveled down his spine. It was the same card that you'd tried to give him in the past. He stared. All words died on his tongue.

"I can keep a secret," you said, "just like I know you keep mine."

And just like that, the ice was fire. This was it, a deep part of him screamed, this is exactly what he'd been waiting for. An excuse. An excuse to keep you off the street and safe. An excuse to take care of you without comprising Gotham. "You know?" His voice was lower than he intended it to be, gruff like his alter ego.

You nodded.

Perfect. He slid the card back to you. "I want you to bring this by my home. There's something I want to discuss with you where I know our conversation can't be overheard."

You beamed. "Of course, I'll be there tonight!" With a toothachingly sweet smile you playfully asked, "Can I expect dinner?"

"Of course." He couldn't help smiling, "See you tonight." 

***

There was relief and excitement in his belly. He shouldn’t have been feeling either at the thought of you coming to his house, but it was perfect. The only way to stop you from getting yourself hurt, and the only way to prevent his secret identity from being blown, and you’d practically handed it to him. Bruce added a few more drops to your wine glass. 

When you arrived, dressed so nicely and smiling that sweet smile, Bruce knew what he was doing was right, even if you didn’t understand. He pulled your chair back for you and pretended to listen to you talk, because all he could focus on was whether you were drinking your wine or not. 

You were too trusting for you own good, draining your glass within thirty minutes of arrival. it didn’t take long for the drug to kick in and Bruce was there when you fell. “Don’t worry,” he said, “this is for you your good and mine.” The only way to keep you from being a vigilante and from exposing his identity was for you to already know, then all he needed to do was make sure you never left the Batcave. "Welcome home."

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Sin In The City {3}****

OFC Nalani x Lewis Tan x OFC Lynix Mini Series

Warning: Cursing, NSFW AT ALL, SMUUUUT, FILTH, Threesome, Girl on Girl Action, PLENTY OF WORDS, Grocery Eating 😉, First Person POV

Words: 12.9k 🤣🤣

Summary: Nalani and Lynix have been friends since they first grew hips and tits. They do everything together. When Lewis tells Nalani that he’s in Vegas for the weekend and invites her to come out, she jumps at the chance, especially when Lewis says the more, the merrier to bringing Nix along. The long weekend goes from a fun time to putting the “sin” in Sin City thanks to a secret plot Nalani concocts.

Note: As you know @munteanhorewrites and I are HUUUUGE Lewis Tan fans. The man is just absolute deliciousness and the whole entire package. So, Ru and I got to talking about him currently being in Vegas for the long weekend, and we thought, why not treat you guys while indulging ourselves. This is going to be a four-shot miniseries where Ru and I will each write two chapters for the four-day weekend of sheer debauchery. Thank you @munteanhorewrites for suggesting we combine our evil powers. Mwhahahaha! 😈😈

We hope you enjoy this. As always, thank you guys so much for reading. ❤️❤️

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG.

Note 2: Bold Italics are an internal thought. Plain Italics are a memory. Plain Bold text messages. Please excuse the slip ups with “I” and “your”. I would have checked it but I was exhausted! 😭

Chapter Legend:

-Chapter One: @royallyprincesslilly

-Chapter Two: @munteanhorewrites

-Chapter Three: @royallyprincesslilly

-Chapter Four: @munteanhorewrites

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Three: Thirst Comes at You Fast

 -Nix-

Groaning, I rolled onto my back for the umpteenth time. The brightness of the sun was blinding, and it was even worse because you had barely slept a wink. Thanks to what I’d seen last night, I tossed and turned and had the most salacious dreams I’d had in a long time. If I were honest, those dreams were downright filthy even by your standards. Now I wasn’t some innocent little thing. Not in the least, but over the last night, I’d dreamt of so many things.  

 It began with sitting on the couch right in front of those large windows and watching the show Lani and Lewis were putting on. I imagined sitting there with one of those expensive bottles of champagne just sipping as Lani took every inch of him down her throat. From the looks of him, she was taking quite a few inches and then some. The way he stared at me was unlike the way anyone had looked at me.

 I could tell that Lani was doing an excellent job from how his lips curled up at the side and how every so often his he grunted, making it echo over the waters of the pool. It was the sexiest sound I’d heard in a long time, and it should have been shameful how quickly it made me wet, but I felt no shame. All I felt the entire night was the slickness between my thighs that never seemed to go away, the heat in the bed though the air conditioner was on all night, and the sheets were silk and always remained cool. Whenever I found a comfortable spot, I had to roll seconds later because of the intense desire that coursed through me. It was frustrating, to say the least.

 There were three things that made me cranky and bitchy. One, when I was over hungry. Two, when I was exhausted. Three, when I was horny with no way to relieve myself. This morning I’d found myself struggling with numbers two and three, and one was steadily creeping up on me. As I showered, I still couldn’t get what I’d witnessed last night out of my mind. This time I zeroed in on the way Lewis had gripped Lani’s head and fucked her throat. The sounds coming from her made it seem like he was hitting places in her throat she’d never known.

 Without even realizing it, my hand crept down my belly to the apex of my thighs. Quickly, I pulled my hand away and hit the tiled wall.

 “Fuck! This cannot be happening.”

 My head ran to Lani’s words from the other day.

 “How would you feel about a threesome with me and Lewis.”

 She was serious. I knew it from the look in her eyes. When Lani was serious about something, she had this determined look.

 “You don’t need to be alone. It can be a one off thing. I’ll take care of you; Lewis will take care of you. It’ll be fun.”

 The thought of that had me pausing as the soap washed from my body. If I was honest with myself, that didn’t sound half bad. There were benefits of threesomes; I thought to myself as I tried to formulate a list of pros and cons.

 “Pro, complete pleasure on all fronts.”

 Just thinking of the possibilities for pleasure had goosebumps peppering my skin. As soon as I began thinking about that pleasure, I thought of a con.

 “Con, pity fuck.”

 That was all it took for me to eighty-six the idea and finish up with my shower. Once out, I tackled the daunting task of my hair. That alone usually took me almost an hour, depending on the style I chose. Today I wanted something sleeker, which meant busting out my flat iron. Deciding on a chill look for the day, I opted for as little makeup as possible before making it to my luggage to choose my outfit for the day.

Once I made it downstairs, I could smell the food and coffee and knew that Lani and Lewis had probably already started without me. It was fine. I needed that extra time to myself to steel myself to be in the same room as him, especially after last night. When I descended the steps and turned into the dining area, Lani was the first to see me. Her face brightened like the sun after a sun shower as she got up and made her way to me.

 When she threw her arms around me, I returned the embrace. From behind her, Lewis sat at the table still. His eyes met mine, and again, the look in them was enough to light a match on sight. He was the one to look away first, though.

 “You decided to take your sweet time this morning,” Lani teased.

 “Yeah, I just needed some me time.”

 Lani peeped into my eyes while crinkling her brow, nonverbally asking if I was okay. Giving her a soft smile, I rubbed her back.

 “I’m good best friend.”

 The two of you walked back to the table. Lani walked around it to sit beside Lewis again.

 “Good morning Nix.”

 The way he said my name made butterflies flit in my belly. Swallowing the small lump that had formed in your throat, I spoke. “Good morning.”

 Once I was sitting, I reached for the orange juice pitcher. If I were lucky, it would be mimosas. Pouring it into the glass, I took a small sip and sighed. Bingo, I thought.

 “How’d you sleep?”

 Glancing at him, I nodded. “Great. I mean, not great, but fine.”

 “What happened?”

 Lani was pouting now.

 “Nothing really, just tossed for a bit. It was so damn hot,” I informed as I piled my plate with an assortment of the food on the table.

 “I wasn’t hot last night. It was cold. I had to snuggle close to Lew,” Lani expressed.

 “Yeah. We were fine. Maybe it’s one of those things you just have to—ride,” Lewis suggested.

 I could feel his eyes on me, and ninety-five percent of me said don’t look up, don’t chance it to find out. The other five percent said just take a peek; that one peek won’t hurt.  It was that five percent I listened to. When I looked at him, he’d just popped a strawberry into his mouth. My eyes instantly dropped to his lips, and I watched him chew the fruit. He did it impossibly slow. When he snaked his tongue out to lick his lips, I could have come just like that. When I looked back to Lewis’s face, his eyes were on me.

 The way he looked at me had a fire creeping up my spine so slowly that its burn felt like a blaze that fanned out throughout your body. He knew he had sex appeal, and from his look alone, he knew how to use it as a weapon.

 “So--,” Lani stretched out bring my attention to her.

 “Maybe we should talk about the elephant in the room.”

 Crinkling my brow, I put a piece of the strawberry pancakes that were in front of me into my mouth.

 “Last night. Me and Lew. You saw,” Lani enlightened.

 My eyes dropped back to my plate as I pretended to intently focus on swirling the strawberries around in the strawberry syrup and powdered sugar mixture.

 “It’s okay, Nix; you don’t have to be embarrassed about it. We didn’t think,” Lani explained.

 “It’s fine. It’s his penthouse and your—you can do whatever.”

 “Funny choice of words,” Lewis murmured before he tilted his head back and dropped a few blueberries into his mouth.

 Glancing at him, I saw Lani rest her hand atop his chest as she smiled then whispered something in his ear. Lewis smiled and kissed her. Watching the carnal kiss between them, I couldn’t look away. As I was going to, Lewis’s eyes met yours again. It was probably one of the most sinful things you’d seen. As he was passionately kissing Lani, he was giving me eyes that said come join in.

 I have to be imagining that.

 Lowering my eyes, I focused on the food and tried to ignore the moans across the table. I usually wasn’t a prude, I was pretty free with my body and inhibitions, but I felt as if I were crowding them for some reason. Like I shouldn’t be there.

 “So--,” Lani began again a sing-song in her voice.

 She was in such a good mood. Why wouldn’t she be? The effort I’d seen her put into getting all that thing in her mouth said he gave her several inches of reasons to be happy.

 “It’s cool, Lani, I understand. What’s the plan for the day?”

 Lewis and Lani looked at each other and smirked before Lani sly shrugged.

 “I thought we could hop on some ATVs and ride through the desert,” Lewis piped up.

 Lani’s eyes widened at the same time mine did.

 “That sounds so fun but dirty,” Lani said.

 “Getting dirty is all the fun,” Lewis said at the same time I did. Our eyes met again, and I saw the playfulness in them.

 “See, Nix gets it,” Lewis added, making you smirk.

 “Okay, ATVs in the desert it is,” Lani confirmed at the same time my phone rang.

 Glancing down, I realized it was Cesar. I would have rolled my eyes, but right now, I needed the distraction.

 “I’m gonna--,” I began pointing to my phone.

 “Yeah, you can use the office around the corner if you need some privacy,” Lewis offered.

 I rose from the table with my phone in hand and made my way to the office. Before I turned the corner, I heard Lani shout after me.

 “That better not be Caesar’s clingy ass. I rebuke him!”

 Pinching my lips, I dipped into the room but heard Lewis’s voice before I pulled up the door just a bit.

 “Who’s Caesar?”

 Leaning on the edge of the executive size desk, I looked out the window and answered.

 “Hey, Caesar.”

 “Hey there, angel face.”

 The sound of the pet name he’d always called me had me smiling for a few moments.

 “I went by your apartment earlier. Were you asleep?”

 “No, I’m not in Miami.”

 The silence on the line stretched.

 “Oh yeah? Where you at?”

 I thought about it for a little while. Caesar was a jealous guy. He was also territorial. It always led to an argument of some sort. At times I didn’t mind it, but other times, it was a pain in the ass.

 “Nix,” Caesar breeched.

 “Vegas for the weekend,” I replied.

 “You alone, or is Lani with you?”

 “What’s with all the questions?”

 “I just miss you. I wanted to spend some time together.”

 I walked closer to the floor to ceiling window and gazed out over the view of Vegas. The sin in sin city was resting for now, but I knew it would awaken once again by the time six hit.

 “C, we talked--,” I began before he cut me off.

 “You’re tryna tell me you don’t miss me?”

 I almost laughed out loud. I didn’t miss him per se.

 “C, let’s not do this.”

 “Wow, Nix. Are you fucking kidding me? For the last month and a half, we’ve been working on getting back together.”

 “You’ve been working for that, C,” I thundered before lowering my voice a tad bit lower to continue. “You’ve been the one fueling this. I told you that I wasn’t sure. I told you that it might not be a good idea.”

 “What am I supposed to listen to? Your words or you spending nights at my apartment?”

 He was right. I’d muddied the waters by turning him into my sporadic fuck buddy even though I knew it was a bad idea.

 “Horniness was the root of all evil and bad decisions,” I whispered out, pressing my forehead to the glass.

 “What was that?”

 “Nothing, C. Look, how about we talk when--.”

 “Everything okay in here?”

Glancing back, I saw Lewis filling the doorframe. He wore a pair of dark ripped jeans that hugged his long legs so well and a black short-sleeve Henley that accentuated the size of his biceps and showed off how good of a shape he was in. Unconsciously my teeth sunk into my bottom lip. He looked fucking good.

 “Who the fuck is that? You said it was you and Lani.”

 Cesar’s voice was so loud it had me coming to my senses. I pulled my eyes from Lewis and looked back out the window.

 “Yeah, everything is fine,” I replied to Lewis before responding to Cesar. “C, we’ll talk when I get back.”

 “No, who the fuck is that? Nix, don’t play with me,” Cesar cautioned. I could hear the jealously in his voice.

 “We’re ready to go. Thought I’d come to get you,” Lewis informed.

 “Yeah. C, I gotta go.”

 Before Cesar could respond, I ended the call and sighed out.

 “Are you okay?”

 His voice was coming from behind me. When I turned, he was resting on the desk with one leg up and the other planted on the floor.

 “Uh—yeah, fine,” I lied.

 “You don’t look okay. You didn’t sound okay a little while ago. I hear you shouting.”

 Nodding, I shrugged, trying to play off your annoyance. It was your own fault.

��“Boyfriend?”

 “I told you, I don’t have one of those.”

 Lewis nodded and sipped from the glass I just realized he held. From where I stood, it smelled tropical, and you guessed it was some fruit juice.

 “Okay, so not a boyfriend—maybe a friend with benefits?”

 Lewis quickly clenched his jaw. It was so quick I almost missed it. That one action had my interest piquing all the way up. What was that for?

 “I don’t have one of those either. He was a horny mistake,” I admitted before turning my back to him again.

 “Ah, horniness. I see. You settled, and now you can’t get rid of him. Sucks to be you.”

 I felt his breath brush against my ear, and the scent of pineapple and grapefruit hit your nose. I could also feel the warmth from his body. He was close. Holding my breath, I kept my body as still as possible and waited for the moment to pass.

 Lewis now stood beside me, looking out the vast windows you were. Neither of you spoke. You focused on the tease in his voice. He was taunting me. Every so often, the soft clinking of ice against crystal echoed in the room, reminding me that I wasn’t alone. Not that I could ever think that. His scent was too powerful. He smelled earthy like he walked through the thick of Guam's forests, then went to the mountains of Tibet to soak up the scent of freshly fallen snow and fresh air. To top it off, I could pick up faint traces of salt. Not cooking salt but the salt of the ocean. The other subtle hints of rose and some exotic flower only made him that more delectably alluring. It was such a good scent.

 “In life, I’ve learned that lesson. Never settle. No matter what it is, never settle. You deserve the best, and the best will come.”

 I looked at him at the same moment he looked at me. Our eyes lingered, but we didn’t speak. There didn’t feel like there was a need to.

 “Plus, you’re too beautiful for the universe not to bend to your will,” Lewis finished.

 My belly fluttered, and without even realizing it, my body swayed sideways. By the time I realized it, I was leaning so far sideway that I lost my balance. With reflexes like nothing I’d ever seen before, Lewis reached out and caught me, pulling me to his body. That was when my skin decided to shoot fire throughout my body. The beauty in his cognac eyes only served as another distracting factor. Now that I was closer, the scents that were subtle before were now more prominent.

 I wonder if he tastes like the sea.

 The thought was a quick one, but it also quickly ruined you. Feeling my nipples bead underneath my thin shirt, I silently prayed he was none the wiser. A flicker of fire sparked in his eyes that made them appear slightly darker. I watched his tongue slowly snake across his full bottom lip. He was wiser. He’d noticed.

 Before he could speak, I pulled away but did it a little too quickly. Lewis’s hand slid from my back to my hips and steadied me. Once I was steady, he didn’t lower them; instead, I felt him squeeze my shapely hips. I thought of moving but I couldn’t. Seconds later, it was Lewis who stepped back, dousing that magnetic energy between you that had encompassed the room.

 “Em—you might wanna--change for the desert,” Lewis suggested.

 Without a word, I walked out of the room and hurried to my room, the whole time admonishing myself for whatever the hell that was.

 Once the three of us got into the chauffeured car, I’d managed to pull myself together and find my chill and detachment. I kept one ear on the conversation in the car, so I could respond when needed. For the most part, I was lost, creating a new blog post about your weekend while going through comments on your post on IG yesterday. You were going to ignore the hot man in the car as long as you could.

 When the car rolled up to our destination, my jaw dropped. For as far as I could see, there was nothing but sand. It gave me a sense of peacefulness.

 “This is gonna be so lit,” Lewis said as he clapped his hands before he dropped a heavy-handed slap to Lani’s ass, making her squeal and giggle.

 “Lewis,” Lani whined as he led the way chuckling to himself.

 For the next fifteen minutes, we listened to the rules, safety precautions, and expectations. After there was a quick demo on how to operate the ATV, then we all signed waivers. Once the formalities were out of the way, each of us ran to an ATV. The one I chose was a camo printed one that looked so badass. I was so excited, and once I climbed on, I glanced over to Lewis, whose eyes were already on you, but they were not looking at my eyes. They were much lower on your ass. Scoffing, I shook my head then revved my engine.

 “Get into it!”

 With that, I sped off, leaving Lewis and Lani in my wake. It didn’t take long for Lani to pull up beside you. she shouted out into the open air then sputtered, spitting out sand.  I couldn’t help but laugh at her. Hearing a sound on the other side of me, I turned and saw Lewis. He was now in a tank with his shirt tied around his mouth like a mask. Genius, I thought. I could hear his muffled words but couldn’t make them out. Shrugging, I spoke into my helmet mouth guard.

 “Sorry, can’t hear you above the sound of you eating my dust!”

 Picking up the speed, I pulled ahead. When they caught up again, I swerved in another direction and did it again and again. Each time I swerved, someone took over the lead. Neither of us kept lead for long. Each one of us had a strong competitive side.

 A few hours passed with desert riding. Lewis was the one to be the show-off. He did flips, standing tricks, and other dangerous stunts while Lani and I looked on with our mouths wide. His adventurous side called to me, making it impossible to steer clear of your rapidly increasing thirst for him.

 It also didn’t help to watch on as he and Lani kicked up the PDA. Almost every time I glanced around, Lani was either hugging on him from the back of his ATV, or his tongue was down her throat. They were cute, but it only made me think of watching them last night, and that made me think of Lani’s suggestion for a threesome. That suggestion hadn’t left my mind all day. I was still so frustrated that the idea of it was not as gobsmacking as it had been. The more and more Lewis’s eyes found you or parts of my body from across the desert, the further away from shocking you got.

 Because of Lani’s whining over how sandy she was, we took a break letting her clean off a bit. I didn’t mind the dirt. While she cleaned up, it left Lewis and me alone. We played around on the ATVs, just acting like kids. It was a lot of fun. After a while, I suggested we stop to capture some of our surroundings for my blog and social media. Lewis agreed, wanting to get his own shots.

 I took video after video and even recorded a few short ones before taking several selfies. When I looked over to Lewis, I watched as he unbuttoned his jeans to peel them off quickly. There was no way I could look away. I was confused as to what he was doing and, honestly, who would look away. Once free from the jeans, he pulled off his tank leaving the scarf he’d worn from before.

 “How is it possible for him to look like he belongs in the desert too?”

 The wind picked up, and the sand blew around him as he stared out toward where the sun shone. My eyes traveled over every dip and curve of his perfectly lean and toned body. No wonder Lani was in heavy lust. He looked like he not only broke backs but possibly parts of the female anatomy.

 Lewis looked back, and for a few moments, it looked like he was walking in slow motion.

Holy Shit.

 Before I even realized it, he was standing in front of me.

 “You got a little drool,” Lewis teased before he hopped onto the bumper of your ATV.

 “Whatever. You wish.”

 It was a weak rebuttal and nowhere near believable. We sat in silence for a little while, taking in the scenery.

 “It’s beautiful huh.”

 “Yeah. Makes you feel like the only human left on earth,” I added.

 “Well, if I were the only human left on earth, I’d want you with me.”

 Our eyes met again, and my heart raced, making me look away. Again, the silence stretched until you found something to say.

 “I’m really sorry about last night,” I began.

 Lewis snorted, making you look at him again with confusion etched on my face.

 “What’s so funny?”

 Lewis didn’t speak right away; instead, he studied me as if he were looking for something. He sighed then licked his lips.

 “Do you know what I see in your eyes?”

 “What?”

 “You’re not sorry.”

 My jaw dropped, and my eyes bugged. “What!”

 “Yeah. You’re not sorry you saw. You’re sorry you got caught,” Lewis cockily informed.

 “Caught? What am I a child? It’s not like I snuck out there to spy.”

 “No, I know that. I do know, though, that if I hadn’t looked up and seen you, you probably would have continued watching.”

 He got me there. I probably would have. It was a good show.

 “Again, your eyes say it all. Not only are they completely hypnotizing, but they’re also very expressive.”

 Was he hitting on me?

 The look on his face said he might have been, but his eyes were masked. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

 “All day, I’ve been trying to figure out if your physical reaction to my touch is an instinctual thing or if it’s more.”

 Wow, I thought. The man was so self-assured. He didn’t come off insecure at all. It was both attractive and slightly annoying. No man should be that confident. I looked away and hopped off the ATV, sinking into the sand. Before I could walk off, I felt his body behind me, barely touching me, and his hand spread across my stomach, keeping me in place.

 Oh, fuck. This is not what I needed right now.

 Lewis didn’t speak. He just remained perfectly still. The longer his hand remained on my stomach, the hotter it seemed to get. I didn’t know how long passed with us standing like that, but I was sure it was long enough for the heat from his hand to sear away the high waist of my biker shorts. It had to have been. It felt like there was no barrier between his hand and your skin.

 On your left, you felt his other hand slowly snake up the length of your arm. Where it went, it left an agonizing burn that slowly at away at you. By the time Lewis’s hand made it to your shoulder, he moved your hair so his head could gently touch the side of your face. Still, the smell of his skin wasn’t masked by the sand all around him. It hadn’t done anything at all. I heard him take a deep inhale before he moaned.

 “I know what you want, Nix. I can see it every time I look into your eyes. Fuck I can feel it. All you have to do is say the words.”

 I could feel his touch on my neck as if he really did touch me, but alas, he never did. He was so close. All he had to do was tip out his tongue. Lewis released a guttural groan.

 “Put us both out of our misery, Sunshine,” Lewis finished before he released you and walked away toward an approaching Lani.

 “Son of a bitch.”

 ~~~~~~~~

It was lunchtime, and I was starving and hornier than I’d been before we left. Only now it wasn't because I’d inadvertently saw Lewis and Lani together, no it was because of Lewis’s words. I had no idea what he meant by he knew what I wanted. How the hell could he know that? I didn’t even fully know what I wanted. Every few hours, it changed.

 When Lewis, Lani, and I got back to the penthouse, we showered and changed, then made it to another beautiful restaurant. Deciding not to pretend I were less hungry than I was, I ordered whatever I wanted. As we all ate, the conversation was never strained. Lani told stories of the countless adventures we’d had, all the while never leaving out not one embarrassing detail. Throughout the stories, Lewis looked genuinely interested. He listened with a tuned ear and sincere interest. I liked watching the different emotions light up his face. It was like reliving the memory but through someone else’s eyes.

Every once in a while, Lewis’s eyes found mine, but again they were masked and almost detached. It was an interesting change from earlier, one that had me doubting what I thought I saw and heard.

 At times when he spoke to me, his choice of words always threw me. When asked if he wanted more of the dim sum, he looked at me and said, “I want it.” When Lani complimented her food, Lewis looked at me, bit his bottom lip, and said, “Bet it tastes good.” I squirmed, shifted, and tried to handle it throughout lunch, but the last thing he said threw you. We were all eating dessert. I’d chosen something simple like a sorbet while he and Lani went in on some decadent chocolate, vanilla, and cherry concoction. They took turns teasing me about wanting it. It was Lewis who locked eyes with me and rocked all reserve with his “you want this deep inside.”

 What the fuck was I supposed to say to that? I had no idea, and he knew I had nothing. He also knew he’d had an effect. He’d had such a profound effect that my panties were now uncomfortably soaked. Asshole, I thought. He knew he was one; the sly smirk on his face said it. You watched him dip his spoon into his mouth and moan. He was pleased with himself.

 After lunch, I had steam to blow, so gambling was my suggestion. What else would bring almost as much pleasure as sex than winning more money than you came with? We went from table to table, placing bets, dropping chips, and claiming double what was wagered. Lani was a pro at Roulette, which she proudly showed off, winning two grand like it was easy. I was a monster at Blackjack. No matter the casino, or the deck of cards, or even those around me. I dominated the Blackjack table for almost two hours, winning hand after hand until management capped my winnings at six grand. I understood. They didn’t want me cleaning them out. Lewis was an ace at Poker and Craps and gladly let his cocky side.

 Before every roll of the dice, Lewis held them out for both Lani and me to blow on. The first time he held them out to me, I was confused. That was when he said, “Blow me.” The look he gave me had way too much effect on me. His amusement from my delayed reaction was evident, and he enjoyed making you pause. Roll after roll had him winning game after game at the Craps table. Every time he won, Lani wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged his head to her breasts.

 Their antics brought so many eyes, including mine, but I was having so much fun winning that I didn’t care when Lani pulled me into a sandwiched hug with Lewis in the middle leaving his head was pressed between yours and Lani’s breasts. Lewis crept his hand around my hip, resting it right at my hip bone. That was when I could have sworn I felt lips slide across my nipple. The instantaneous reaction began with my nipple hardening and my back arching slightly, all while a soft moan rolled from my lips. When I glanced down, Lewis was looking at me, and for a second, I forgot where I was and who I was.

 Lani cleared her throat, pulling my attention to her. The look on her face said all you needed to know. She was liking the way things were going.

 When I shied away from Lani and Lewis, I tested out a few of the slot machines wanting to try your luck there. It took some time for your streak to start, but there was no stopping it once it did. You struck gold every time you pulled down the handle on the side of the machine.

“Either you’ve got the Midas touch, or you’re rigging the machine.”

 You turned and saw Lewis standing there looking at the machine.

 “How would I have rigged it?”

 He shrugged and leaned on the seat I was sitting in. “There are ways.”

 “I just have the Midas, I guess.”

 Lewis smiled and nodded. “Looks like it. How much have you won today?”

 “More than you make in a month,” I teased.

 The laugh Lewis let out brought so many eyes to us, and he didn’t seem to care. I liked that he didn’t pay attention to others and focused on being himself.

 “Wow, you have quite the sass, huh.”

 I shrugged and pulled the lever again. We watched the screen as the images rolled in, showing off another win.

 “I should keep you by my side at all times. You just may be the luckiest woman I’ve ever met.”

 Before I could answer, another voice to my left drew my attention.

 “I second that.”

 He was tall, with a perfect jawline that was so chiseled it could have cut steel. His eyes were a deep green close to the color of seaweed, and his smile said he should work as a game show host or something.

 “Name’s Brian. I couldn’t help but watch you. You’re gorgeous.”

 On your right, Lewis scoffed in such a way there was no misinterpreting what it meant.

 “Uh—Lynix,” I replied.

 “Such an exotic name, almost reminds me of a Lynx cat, of course, sexier,” Brian added.

 “Oh boy, here we go,” Lewis chimed in. I glanced at him with a curious look, wondering why he was acting like this.

 “You are?”

 Lewis turned to the newcomer crossing his arms over his chest, making his biceps pop in the polo shirt he wore.

 “Don’t worry about all that. No one asked you to come over here.”

 My jaw dropped because that sound a lot like possessiveness. Brian stood tall and turned to Lewis as well.

 “Who can stay away from a beautiful woman like her? All I wanted to do was get next to greatness,” Brian slid in, making me smile. He was smooth. Looking at Lewis’s face, he didn’t look amused.

 Right when Lewis was about to say something, Lani came by giving Brian the once over.

 “What’s going on?”

 “Nothing,” I answered before Lewis could. Lani looked at me then, Brian. It was her asking if she wanted him gone. I slightly shook my head. I wanted to play this out.

 “Who’s your friend?”

 “This is Brian. He was just about to take me for a drink. Right, Brian?”

 Brian looked surprised by that, but not for long. A few seconds after I said it, his smile spread again.

 “Absolutely.” He held out his arm and waited for me to take it. When I did, I glanced at Lewis, whose jaw was clenched and eyes blazing. You knew a displeased man when you saw one, and he was definitely displeased.

While I had a drink with Brian at one of the bars and listened to him talk about his time in Vegas, I saw Lani and Lewis at the bar as well. They were drinking and whispering, having a grand ol’ time, but every so often, Lewis glanced over to you with the only annoyed look on his face. When he did, Lani looked amused, giving me a look that said she peeped it. Halfway through my drink, my phone went off.

 MSG Lani: Pity fuck huh. 🙄 

 I looked at her, narrowed my eyes then gave her the same eye roll she gave me in text. She wasn’t funny, not one bit. However, she might have a point, I thought. As I continued my conversation, Lani and Lewis came over to join you. Lani went on Brian’s right while Lewis came up to your left. He was close enough for me to smell the dark rum that swirled with his cologne. While Lani talked to Brian, he focused all his attention on her.

 “Another horny mistake?”

 His voice was a whisper that made it easier to smell the rum he was drinking. Lewis took another sip from his heavy crystal glass, but he didn’t look at me. He kept his eyes on the plethora of bottles decorating the wall of the bar.

 “Who said I was horny?”

 Lewis then looked at me and smirked. “Aren’t you?”

 I looked over the features of his face and got lost on his lips. They looked soft and well cared for.

 Jesus, I’m lusting.

 “Are you?”

 Lewis took another sip then sucked in a slow breath through his mouth. He didn’t speak for several moments. He just stared into my eyes like he was looking for something.

 “If you only knew,” Lewis whispered before looking away to finish his glass of Rum this time.

 “I’m sure Lani can help with that. There are plenty of corners, although I doubt you two need corners or privacy.”

 In seconds you felt Lewis’s breath on my ear. “What do you need, Nix?”

 Holy Shit!

 Though I tried, I couldn’t get any words to pass my lips. Not one.

 “All you have to do is say the words, tell me,” Lewis whispered again, his lips softly grazing my ear.

 My heart was racing so fast that I was sure there was no way he didn’t hear it. I was also sure that he could smell my arousal. I was that wet. Someone’s phone went off, and the unexpected sound broke the tension of the moment. Clearing my throat, I stood and adjusted my skirt.

 “Dinner. I think we should get to dinner,” I stuttered, walking away.

 I needed to get upstairs to that bedside drawer, and I needed to get there now. The car ride was the longest. As I sat there beside Lani, I couldn’t stop squirming. Every move I made, the slickness between my legs only turned me on more.  

 MSG: Did you tell him?

MSG Lani: Tell who what?

MSG: Don’t play innocent with me, Lani. Did you tell him?

 Lani looked at me, and I narrowed my eyes. There was no way she didn’t bring up her threesome plan to him. He’d gone from mildly seductive just from his aura to extremely panty soaking in one day. Lani rolled her eyes and tapped into her phone.

 MSG Lani: I did, but before you get mad, it wasn’t any serious. I just said I mentioned it to you.

MSG: Lani!

MSG Lani: Don’t be mad. It’s no big deal.

MSG: What did you say?

MSG Lani: That I’d asked, and you turned me down. He wanted to know why, and I said you had your reasons.

 I didn’t fully believe her.

 MSG Lani: I promise it’s no big deal.

 Sighing, I slipped my phone between my knees, leaned back, and willed the car to hurry up.

 Once we got back to the hotel, Lani said she’d meet us upstairs because she wanted to book a spa treatment for tomorrow. I didn’t need to be told twice. The elevator ride with Lewis wasn’t uncomfortable; it was more tense than anything else. Both of our eyes remained on the changing dial as the floors ticked away. Neither of us spoke. When I did have the courage to look over at him, I saw that his jaw clenched, his arms crossed, but his back was straight as an arrow.

 Unexpectedly Lewis looked over to me, and it felt like he was daring me to do something. His lips were curled into a sly sort of smile before he bit his bottom lip. My belly fluttered, making me drop my eyes, but when I did, it landed it on something unexpected. The bugle in his pants had almost all of your reserve falling, leaving only one measly ounce. Thankfully, the doors opened into the hall leading to the penthouse. I made a mad dash toward the door and inside. Not sparing another look at Lewis, I hightailed it to my bedroom.

 Once inside, I stripped and hurried into the shower, hoping that the water would help with the slickness I felt that only fueled my arousal even more. It was next to impossible to stop thinking about someone bending me over in the shower, but somehow you managed to focus on getting clean rather than getting dirtier.

 After my shower, I only felt less wet but still horny as ever. I was barely able to get through putting on my makeup. My hands kept shaking at the worst times, and my concentration was shot to shit. I’d wanted my makeup to match the dress I planned on wearing, but I couldn’t even get that together for the life of me.

 “Get your shit together, Nix.”

 Another few minutes found me just giving up on the elaborate eye makeup I’d wanted and dropping my brush in frustration. I rested my forehead on my hand and took a few deep breaths.

 “Fuck it!”

 I got up, walked over to my bed, and laid down. Once I reached inside the drawer to get my vibrator. Instead of using it our the gate, I slipped my fingers between my legs, only becoming half surprised to find I was already as wet as I’d been before I got into the shower. I ran my fingers up and down my slickened slit once, then twice and third. Each time I shuddered from the delicate pleasure that rolled through me. A soft but husky moan escaped my throat.

 Dipping my fingers into my heat, I brought the slickness back to my clit and circled the desperate bud. It wasn’t long before I’d closed my eyes and focused on the pleasure that was increasing by leaps and bounds with each passing second. Dripping my thighs back to the bed, I sped my movements making tight circles rather than the bigger ones from before.

 “Oh my god, yes!”

 There was no way I was going to last much longer. I could already feel the tension filling the pit of my stomach. Dipping my fingers back inside my cavern, I used them to replicate what I imagined Lewis did. At the thought of him, my eyes flew open to stare at the ceiling. While Lani was giving him head, I hadn’t been able to see just what he was blessed with. The only indication I’d gotten was from the constant gagging Lani did. She had said that he was more endowed than anyone she’d been with. I was curious now.

 My fingers had sped their plunge, and with it, so did the moans that fell from my lips. Soon your moans and whimpers cascaded from you. By the time I wondered if Lewis could hear me, I was too far gone. It was then I looked down my body to find Lewis at the door watching me. I should have screamed and clamped my legs shut or even hid from shame or embarrassment, but I didn’t do any of that.

 Instead, I bit my bottom lip and slowly took my fingers from my body to bring them back to my clit.

 “Mmmm, yes.”

Lewis took a few steps more into my room and toward the bed. Our eyes never left one another, and the longer he stared, the more turned on you were becoming. When Lewis made it to the bed's foot, his eyes dropped to your sex, and another whimper escaped you.

“Fuck!”

 His voice was strangled, and his eyes on fire. Earlier it looked like it was anger or annoyance, but now it was neither of those.

 “Fuck, you’re beautiful, Nix.”

 Lewis dropped to the floor, coming eye level with your sex. He then took a deep inhale.

 “Mmmm, you smell incredible. Do you taste as good as you smell?”

 The combination of his voice and his words had my back arch slightly off the bed.

 “Does it feel good, Nix?”

 I nodded.

 “Tell me how good.”

 “So—So—good.”

 Lewis groaned, focused on your pussy. He looked almost transfixed. After a few seconds, his jaw dropped, and I could have sworn I saw a little drool at the corner of his mouth, but before it dribbled, he closed it again.

 “Goddamn, you’re so wet. Be a good girl and show me.”

 I brought my hand away, dipped it into my heat, and pulled it back to show him the slickness that coated my fingers. I heard an audible growl fill the room. The fact that it came from him only ruined me more. Dipping my fingers back inside, I did what I knew would get me off.

 “That’s right. Fuck that pussy, Sunshine. Show me how you like it.”

 Bringing my other hand into the mix, I circled my clit then looked at Lewis again. He looked like he’d inched closer, and I wanted him to bury his face in to take over.

 “Mmm, you’re so tight, I can tell. Spread that pussy open for me.”

 Doing as I was told, I spread it, but I never slowed the tight circles around my clit. I was so close.

 “You’re gonna come? Come for me, Nix. Let me see how beautiful you are when you come.”

 My whimpers turned into whines, and my tight circles turned sloppy and staggered as did the speed of my fingers thrusting in and out of my sopping core. In seconds my toes curled, and I’d bent off the bed as if I was a bridge.

 “Fuck, fuck, fuck Lewis!”

My body shook for several long moments as I rode the waves of ecstasy and relished the tingles that spread through my body. I’d been holding a lot of tension, and now I could feel the little bubbles popping in thin air as they exited my body. When I looked back at Lewis, he was so close. Inching up, I withdrew me soaked digits and brought them to Lewis’s lips. Without needing to be told, he opened his mouth and sucked each and every one of my fingers clean.

 “Mmm, you taste amazing. Let me clean you up and eat that pretty pussy baby. I want it so bad.”

 That was what you wanted to. It amazed you how badly you wanted him to clean up the mess you’d made of yourself. As you opened your mouth to speak, you heard Lani shout your name. Lewis looked as if he’d found his senses. He rubbed his forehead and sighed before he stood from your bed foot.

 “I’m—sorry.”

 With that, he was gone. Though you were satisfied, I could feel the heat rising again.

 An hour later found me dressed, collected, and at a steakhouse with Lani and Lewis. Thank to my release, my body was more relaxed now, but my mind was a chaotic erotic nightmare. I couldn’t stop replaying what happened in my bedroom and he gall I’d had to feed him my fingers to clean off. The fire I’d seen in his eyes and the yearning I’d head in his voice was something I hadn’t expected.

 Would it really be a pity fuck?

 Lani flirted with Lewis using her seductive touches and whispers, and I could tell that he was hanging on but barely. Deciding to toy with him a little, I did what Lani did, but more subtly. When she ate off his plate, I did too. When she held his hand on top of the table, I slyly allowed my body to touch him underneath the table. When Lani leaned into him, I leaned over him to take a piece of food from Lani’s plate. The whole time I knew that he could see my cleavage.

 By the time we’d moved on to dessert, Lewis was the one squirming and downing his drink like his thirst was unquenchable. I loved seeing him squirm. He thought he had this power and control. He needed to be humbled to realize just which sex had the power in the world. When Lewis went to talk to the owner of the restaurant, I filled Lani in and tried to get whatever information she had. I knew she couldn’t be an innocent bystander, and she wasn’t.

 “I can’t believe you told him that.”

 Lani nodded. I saw the remnants of his drink and finished the glass.  The burn of the dark liquor was intense against my tongue.

 “So, he’s been acting like this all day on purpose?”

 “Lani smirked, giving the answer away. I couldn’t help but snort, bringing my hand to my head, smacking myself.

 “If you needed more evidence that you’re attracted to him or him attracted to you, then you have this entire day. Hell, you have the casino.”

 I looked at Lani silently, asking her to continue.

 “I saw how he was when that guy came over and flirted. Lewis can keep his cool about a lot of things, but I can always tell when he’s jealous.”

 “Jealous!? Lani, get real. That’s yo man. He wouldn’t be jealous.”

 Lani pulled me closer to her and rested her chin on my shoulder. “Why do you think I was so adamant about you coming this weekend?”

 Glancing to her, my brows crinkled, wondering what the hell she was talking about.

 “As I said, I’m only cool with sharing with you. A while ago, I knew Lew would like you, and I couldn’t think of anything better than having you by my side while we have some fun.”

 Snorting, I shook my head. “Lani--,” I began.

 “Stop frontin. You know you like him. You know this whole day you’ve been horny and wet for him.”

 At that moment, a thought filled me, making me gasp loudly, snapping my head to Lani.

 “Oh my god, did you put him up to this Nalani?”

 “Damn, my whole name, huh.”

 “You did!”

 I dropped my forehead into my hands while resting my elbows on the table. I couldn’t believe this. It kind of felt like my best friend was pimping me out to her sexy as hell fuck buddy.

 “Lani, you’re pimping me out.”

 “I am not. Think of this as more than sex. This could be something.”

 Rolling my eyes, I sighed, “Like what, a contractual fuck buddies situation?”

 “Shut up. No. Like he flies us where he goes, and we soak up the culture of the world while enjoying his company and the perks of it,” Lani explained, raising her eyebrows for emphasis.

 “Oh my god. We don’t need anyone to help us soak up the culture of the world, Lani. We do good on our own.”

 “True. It’s just—sometimes, it’d be nice if someone took care of us the way we take care of ourselves. Ya’ know?”

 I did know. I understood her completely. While it was great being able to do things and get things for yourself, it was also nice to be taken care of by someone on a different level. Sighing, I sat back and pondered her words. She had a point. Maybe I needed to just give in to what I really wanted. From across the restaurant, I could see Lewis talking to the owner. They were laughing like they’d been long time friends. The comfort between the two was evident. When he glanced back to Lani and me and pointed us out, the owner said something to him with a smile on his face—a smile Lewis returned with a nod.

 “Let’s head out. I think we can find a club that’s more up to our speed,” I said to Lani, raising one of my eyebrows.

 The excitement on Lani’s face said it all. She knew what time it was.

 When Lewis came back over, we took a picture with the owner. Lani and I were in front, stooping down like the Charlie’s Angel’s Charlie’s Angels wished they could be, while the two of them stood behind us. It was a dope picture.

 In the car, I whispered to the driver where to take us while Lani distracted him so he wouldn’t suspect a thing. Thankfully the drive wasn’t too long since everything in Sin City was in short distance. When the car pulled up, and we piled out, I watched Lewis’s jaw drop when he saw the name of the establishment.

 Treasures.

 Lewis looked at both Lani and me as if we’d grown a pair of extra heads. Lani wrapped her arm around my waist and led me to the door.

 “Enter if you dare,” I teased, walking inside with a giggling Lani.

Once inside, we waited for Lewis to catch up. It was only a few seconds before he was behind us, draping his arms over both our shoulders.

 “Now, why would you ladies lure me here?”

 “Lure? Did we lure, Nix?”

 “Not at all. If we were to lure you, it would look like this.” I began turning around to face him while walking backward.

 “Are you coming?”

 Lani was the first to join my side, and then Lewis did the same with a wide smile. We walked to one of the empty lounges and sat with him in the middle.

 “Hi there, welcome to Treasures. I’m Pinky,” began a beautiful woman with pink hair, cheek piercings, and deep brown eyes.

  As I looked lower over her mahogany skin, my eyes couldn’t help but take in her incredible breasts that were barely concealed by her bedazzled bikini top. I didn’t know if they were implants of natural, but it didn’t matter. I bet they brought in plenty of horny men.

 “Hello, Pinky,” Lewis replied, leaning back on the lounger with a smile.

 “What can I get you three? Food, drinks, one of the girls?”

 Lewis looked at Lani, then me licked his lips and smiled again. “Whatever you ladies want.”

 Lani and I exchanged looks for a few moments communicating nonverbally.

 “How about a bottle of dark rum to get us started and maybe a girl for a dance,” Lani requested.

 “Sure thing? Any preference?”

 Lani and I smiled and replied, “Black and beautiful.”

 Lewis chuckled, “I third that.”

 When Pinky left, Lani leaned to Lewis and took out something rolled from his sports jacket's inner pocket. Lewis offered her the light, and I watched as she took a few puffs then released the smoke. When she did, I could tell just what it was.

 “Who knew weed was your cup of tea,” I said, leaning back and crossing my legs.

 “Ha, there’s plenty you don’t know about me,” Lewis answered before he took a few puffs of his own. When he finished, he held it out to me.

 “Let’s hope by the time the sun comes up; you know me a lot better.”

 Those were more than empty words. I took the blunt and took several long drags from it, closing my eyes to allow the substance to work its way to my brain.

 Who knows, the odds of that statement becoming true were getting more and more likely.

 Fifteen or so minutes later, once the three of you had the bottle of rum open and taking turns gulping from the three hundred dollar bottle, a dancer named Lioness was doing her thing on the small table before us. Her outfit was perfect and showed off all her best assets—everything. When she approached Lani, she shook her ass in her face, to which Lani slapped one of her cheeks. Almost instantly, she gasped and held her hands back in an apologetic way. Lioness didn’t seem angry; instead, she sat in Lani’s lap and proceeded to give her a lapdance. Lani’s squeals said she was having a good time.

 “Oh no,” I whined, holding up the blunt that was now too small to hold.

 “Not to worry, sunshine, daddy’s got more,” Lewis said, showing the inside of his jacket.

 I smiled and reached for one coming even closer to his face. Glancing up, our eyes met, and that’s where they stayed.

 “You’re blazed,” Lewis said with a wide smile, one I returned.

 “Don’t laugh at me.”

 His smile softened, and his hand came to my cheek. “I’m not babygirl. I have better things I’d rather do than laugh at you.”

 From the side, I saw Lani nod her head, and Lioness approaching like a predator coming for her prey.

 “I hope this lapdance is one of them,” I said, nudging my head, making him look back to see Lioness approach to dance in front of him.

 “Wow.”

 Lewis leaned back and looked over her body, which gave me the time to light the new blunt. After taking a few puffs, Lani whined for her turn. We traded her for the blunt and me for the Rum. When Lioness sat in Lewis’s lap, he laughed. While he looked to be having a good time, he didn’t look to be on the brink of losing control. I got up and slinked around Lioness to Lani. As she took a puff, she held it out to me to take one. After I did, I gulped a mouthful of rum and moaned as it burned its path down my throat.

 Lani stood and began swaying to the music in front of you. The instrumental version of Desperado was blaring in the club with a slowed-down dub. It sounded a lot more seductive than the original.  Lani took the rum and handed me the blunt. As I took another drag, I leaned my head back and moaned. When I looked over to Lewis on the couch, his eyes weren’t on Lioness. They were on Lani and me. That was when the most devious idea popped into my head. Whispering to Lani to clue her in, she looked at me and gave me her sinister smile.

 I dug into my clutch, took out a few bills, then walked over to Lioness, tucked it into her jeweled thong, and whispered a thank you. Her smile was soft. She got the hint. Lani and I walked toward Lewis, held out our hands, and waited for him to take the bait. It wasn’t long before he did. Pulling him to us, Lewis’s body collided with ours.

 “Not interested in the dancer, baby?”

 Lewis smiled, took the blunt from my lips, and took a long pull from it then smiled.

 “How can I be when you two are right in front of me.”

“I think he wants a show of his own, Lani.”

 Her smile widened before she bit her bottom lip. “Then follow us, daddy. We’ll give you a show you’ll never forget.”

 Lewis’s smile slipped as he looked between the two of us. We’d sure gotten his undivided attention now. We turned then walked away to one of the rooms that were marked “private.”

 Once inside, the mirrored walls threw our reflections back. I walked to the mirror and fluffed my hair, and rubbed my lips together. My body was tingling, which was normal for when I drank and smoked. It was a pleasant tingle, one that had me feeling loose.

 “Oh Nixy,” Lani sing-songed making me turn to see her at the music player.

 The song that she’d chosen was a personal favorite. She walked to me while circling her hips. Once to me, she walked around me once, then went around to my back and placed her hand on my hip. Following her rhythm, I circled my hips with her and handed her the rum bottle. As she drank, I bent forward just a little, poking my ass out and onto her. Lani quickly slapped my ass, making me laugh. Soon we were both giggle loudly until Lewis’s figure in the center of the room caught our eye.

 “Forgot about me?”

 “Never, daddy,” Lani said as she walked to him, making me follow.

 Once in front of him, Lani rolled her hips, turning her back to him to bend forward. Lewis groaned then slapped her ass, making her moan. When he looked at me, I walked to his back then bent over his shoulder, making my breast press against him. Looking at him, I saw the desire in his eyes. I smiled and took the blunt from him, then went beside Lani. As I puffed, she went behind me to trail her hands down the center of my body until she turned me to her. The look on her face was easy to read.

 We both looked at Lewis before our lips met in a slow and teasing kiss. This wasn’t the first time we’d kissed. It wasn’t a big deal for either of us. When we pulled apart, we both looked back to Lewis and blew out the smoke we’d transferred and split. He didn’t look like he was breathing, but the bulge in his pants said he was alive.

 “Like what you see, daddy?”

 “Come here, princess.”

 Lani walked to Lewis. Once she was before him, he pulled her down by the back of her neck and kissed her intensely, making a slow heat roll through your belly and across your limbs. Before the kiss got too hot, he pulled away, looked at me, and smiled.

 “You too, sunshine.”

 I slowly walked toward him and stood beside Lani again. He didn’t touch me, though. His eyes slowly roamed my body, drinking in every curve. Lani sat on one of Lewis’s spread thighs.

 “Dance for us, Nix.”

 Not needing to be told twice, I turned my back to them and swayed to the music and slowly wined my hips, bringing myself to the floor to slowly stand up while bending, giving them a good view of my ass.

 “Goddamn, girl,” Lewis groaned out before he moaned.  

 Looking back at them, I winked then faced them to continue my seductive dance. Lani stood and joined me, poking out her ass onto me. I brought my hand down to return the slap she’d given me earlier. The action had her moaning. Slowly I brought my hands up her body, all the while never taking my eyes off of Lewis. He smiled and blew out the smoke making the room even hazier. With every breath I took, my high was only increasing, and my inhibitions decreasing. Bringing my lips to Lani’s ears, I whispered.

 “Let’s do it.”

 By the time we made it back to the penthouse, we were all higher than before and laughing up a storm. Once inside, Lani was the one to shout for the pool before she took off. Lewis was right behind her, leaving me to walk behind them. When I got outside, they’d already gotten into the pool, and Lani was in Lewis’s arms. The two were heavily making out. Their moans echoed off the water, leaving me to stand and watch for a few moments.

 When their eyes turned to me, Lani slipped from his arms to disappear under the water. His eyes drank you in, and the way he looked at me made boy heart race, my belly knot, and my sex quiver.

“The water’s great. Come in,” Lewis beckoned as he approached the edge of the pool.

I stood at the edge, watching him swim to me. Before he got there, he stopped, and I could see Lani under the water claiming his cock as her mouth’s possession. She sure wasted no time, I thought. Lewis moaned then rolled his neck. With his head dropped back, I was able to take in the way his shoulders stretched out and how his arms were the perfect combination of power and beauty. The glow of the blue light that was in and around the pool only accentuated his sexiness. When Lewis looked at me, I was about ready to see what the fuck Lani’s screams were all about and if he deserved such praise.

 I unzipped the side of the dress and allowed it to fall from my body to reveal the neon green of my lacy thong.

 “Jesus, you’re gonna kill me, sunshine.”

 I sat at the edge and dangled my legs in the water, and watched the wavy image of Lani, giving him head.

 “She sure can hold her breath long.”

 Lewis smiled and bucked his hips forward. Lani came up a few seconds later.

 “Lew, not fair. You could have killed me,” Lani whined to a smiling Lewis.

 “Look.”

 Lani looked back at me and smiled. Lewis leaned to her ear and spoke. “Told you, daddy would make you get what you wanted.”

 Lani smiled wider and swam to me. When she got close, she flung water at me, leaving it to train down my body. Lani hopped up onto the stone beside me and sat down as well. She was completely naked.

 “I remember these,” Lani began snapping the waistband of my thong.

 “You should. It was barely two weeks ago we got them,” I replied.

 “They still look cute on you, especially against your skin. Uugh, so fucking gorgeous, right daddy.”

 Our eyes went back to Lewis, who still hadn’t moved. His eyes were looking between us as if he didn’t know what to say or do. He slowly approached us, then stopped. His eyes roamed my naked upper half until they dripped to the garment in question. When I saw him bite his bottom lip, he nodded.

 “So fucking gorgeous.”

 I couldn’t help but smile. He had a way with words.

 “Can I?”

 He looked as if he were holding his breath, waiting for my answer. When I nodded, he closed the gap between us. Trailing his finger from my shin up over my knee and along my thigh, they reached the waistband of my underwear, and he snapped them purposefully. Lewis kissed my knee then moved over to Lani. He hoisted her legs out of the water, pressed them back, and got up close and personally with her pussy.

 His eyes locked with mine before he licked along her sex, making her moan. He did it again and again, then sucked Lani’s clit into his mouth. Her gasp was loud. He sucked her like there was no tomorrow, and with every move he made, Lani whimpered before her hand dropped to the top of his head.

 “Right there, daddy.”

 As he lapped at her core, he kept his eyes on me. The longer he gave her pleasure, the wetter I became, and the wetter I became, the more I wanted him to touch me. After several long minutes, he still hadn’t, and my frustration was beginning to show. Cupping my breast, I tweaked my nipple at the same time Lani’s whines increased.

 “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come, daddy. Right there!”

 Lewis’s eyes were dark, and when he pulled back from Lani, his lips were wet. Lani whined.

 “Lewwww!”

 He dropped a slap to her clit, silencing her completely while having her drop her head back.

 “Oh, fuck.”

 Lewis smiled and came back over to me while cleaning his lips.

 “Do you remember what I told you this afternoon?”

 Thinking back, I remembered. When he saw that I had, he smiled again.

 “All you have to do is say the words,” Lewis repeated.

 The way he looked at me only solidified my decision and fueled my desire.

 “I want you,” I said. His smile widened, but he didn’t move.

 “While I love the way that sounds. Those aren’t the words.”

 “Lew, you know she wants you just--.”

 Again Lewis slapped Lani’s clit, and her body jerked, and a hand instinctively dropped between her legs. Lewis shot her a warning look, and in seconds she’s put her hands back on the stone surface. Lewis looked back at me and released a breath.

 “I want you to fuck me.”

 Lewis smiled, showing his perfect teeth. He approached, sliding his hands over my thighs to the waistband of the thong to pull it off of me. When he did, he tossed it behind him, not caring where it landed.

 “Show me that pretty pussy, sunshine.”

 You spread your legs but not entirely. Lewis tsked.

 “I know you can do better than that.”

 I fully spread them and watched him gawk at me like he hadn’t seen it before. When he brought his lips to my skin, he kissed my inner thighs, prolonging my desperate need for contact.

 “You’re so wet, babygirl. Is this for me?”

 I bit my bottom lip and nodded. “All for you,” I whispered.

 “Mmm, I’ve been thinking about this pussy all day.”

 Once the words were out, Lewis buried his face between my thighs. Once I felt his lips, I dropped my head back to the stone and allowed the pleasure he gave me without much effort to fill me. Moaning loudly, my body quivered. Cupping my breast, I tweaked my nipple again, edging my arousal higher.

 “Fuck I was right. You do taste incredible.”

 Lewis quickly flicked his tongue against my clit, making me whimper louder. It felt as if his tongue moved at lightning pace, and with every flick, he somehow made my body even hotter. I felt like I was on fire, but I didn’t hate it. I loved it. Dropping my hand to his head, I held on because I felt the stirs of an unexpected orgasm. Lewis moaned against my skin, making me tumble off the into ecstasy.

 “Fuuuuck!”

 My scream was not alone. Looking to my right, I saw Lewis plunging his fingers in and out of Lani’s core as his mouth still worked magic on you. Lani panted, writhed, and screeched.

 “Yes, daddy. I’m gonna come. Yes!”

 Lewis didn’t slow his fingers or his tongue. Instead, he continued and sucked the soul out of your body while having Lani cream all over his fingers.

 When he pulled back, we laid there panting, trying to catch our breath. Once I did, I looked down, expecting to see Lewis, but only saw an empty pool. Looking to my right, I watched as he approached in all his glory, finally getting my answer I’d been wondering about. He was hunger better than Seabiscuit.

 “Holy Fuck, Lani.”

 “I’ve been trying to tell you.”

 “No need to tell her anything. Seeing is believing. Your knees,” Lewis instructed.

 Lani seemed to know the drill, but I did not. I watched Lani get on her knees then I looked back at Lewis. He just watched me and waited for me to obey. I mirrored Lani and feasted my eyes on his manhood. It looked heavy, long, and thick. Lord have mercy, I thought.

 “I know you want this princess. Do you, babygirl?”

 Deciding not to answer, I wrapped my hand around his shaft, drawing a strangled groan from Lewis. It was as heavy as it looked. I ran my hand up and down, familiarizing myself with him, then I tipped my tongue out to swirl around his swollen head.

 “Aaah, yes, babygirl,” Lewis whispered before he whimpered.

 I moaned on him then dipped my mouth down his length taking him as far as I dared. Lodging him in my throat, I tightened it and hummed. Lewis groaned deeply, then laced his hands behind my head, keeping him snugly where he wanted to be. When his groan turned to a whimper, he released me, making me pull back to catch my breath.

 Lani rose onto her knees and took over, mirroring her same movements from the night I’d seen her. Instead of sitting there and letting her have all the fun, I dipped under her mouth to capture one of his balls in my mouth to suck on it gently. Lewis sighed out long and loud and placed a hand on the back of both Lani’s and my head.

 “Mmm, that’s it. Suck this dick, Lani.”

 She moaned her acceptance.

 “Mmm, yes, Nix. Just like that.”

 Lani pulled back, and we switched positions. For the next few minutes, Lani and I alternated between her at his balls and me on his dick and vise versa. When Lewis pulled away and stepped back, he helped us up and led us upstairs to the bedroom. Once inside, Lewis pulled me into his body to kiss my lips. His moved expertly over mine, sucking, nibbling, and teasing as he pleased. When he wrapped his tongue around mine, I moaned, clinging to him.

As I was getting used to kiss—our first, Lewis abruptly pushed me onto the bed. While he kissed Lani with the same fire he’d kissed me. When he came over to kneel on the bed, I watched him stroke himself. The way he did it had my mouth watering. I knew what was next, and I wanted it so badly my sex quivered.

 “You ready for this dick, Nix?”

 I nodded.

 “I can’t hear you. Tell daddy how bad you want this dick.”

 Nah!

 I dropped my hands between my legs, bringing his attention to it, and circled my clit. That was when I spread my lips so he could see just what he was doing to me. Lewis groaned but didn’t tear his eyes away.

 “Are you ready for this pussy, Lewis?”

 Lani giggled behind me from her spot on the bed by my head. Her laughter only emboldened me.

 “Hmm? I can’t hear you.” I dipped a finger inside my heat and raised it to my lips to suck it clean.

 “Mmm, this pussy is so good. Do you want it?”

 Lewis smiled then hovered over me to take one of my nipples into his mouth to swirl his tongue around the peak before nibbling down. I whimpered again then squirmed when I felt him swipe his cock across my slit.

 “Lani was right about you,” Lewis whispered.

 “I told you, daddy. I hope you can handle two of a kind,” Lani teased.

 Lewis leaned over my head and kissed Lani fervently. The view from underneath was a sensual one, and as I was getting lost in it, Lewis thrust forward, connecting our bodies in one swift move.

 “Fuck!”

 Lewis and I shouted the same thing at the same time. With him buried to the hilt, he didn’t move. He waited, allowing me to adjust to the size and girth of him. The stretch was the most sinfully delicious thing I’d ever felt. Unable to take the maddening pressure, I began pushing Lewis back at his hips, but he didn’t budge.

 “Oh no babygirl, don’t push me away. Take this dick. You wanted it, right?”

 With that, he retreated only to thrust forward again, nudging that special spot within me.

 “I can’t hear you? You gonna tap out?”

 Another retreat and thrust forward sent my breasts swinging and my head angling back.

 “We’ve just begun. You hadn’t even screamed my name yet.”

 Another retreat and thrust forward had me clenching around him and panting to catch my breath.

 “Fuck, Nix. You’re so fucking tight. It’s taking everything not to come.”

 Three thrusts followed, and before Lewis slowly rolled his hips, making me moan deeply.

 I could tell he wasn’t going to go slow anymore, and a few moments later, it was like a beast was released. His thrusts sped, his moans increased as did mine.

 “Mmm, Sit that pussy on her face, princess. Give her a taste of what’s mine.”

 Lani looked at me, seeking permission. Giving her a slight nod, she moved to angle herself over my mouth. This is a first, I thought to myself as I tipped my tongue out to lick across her flesh. Lani moaned softly, making me do the action again and again. After teasing her flesh, for a few moments, I sucked Lani’s clit into my mouth. It was an interesting experience, to say the least, but it wasn’t one I was against.

 Lani jerked forward before she cursed.

 “I got you, princess. Does it feel good?”

 “Mmm, yes, daddy, it feels good.”

 “Is she licking that pussy, right?”

 Lani exclaimed again as I pulled her lower onto my mouth so I could have more access. Mimicking the same thing Lewis did to me, I flicked my tongue against her in a pattern of flicks and swirls, each pattern changing, never the same. Lani whimpered and hissed.

 “Fuck, Nix. That feels so good.”

 Lewis’s thrusts sped, and my whimpers picked up, breaking my concentration from what I was doing.

 “Shit, you’re close huh, babygirl,” Lewis said through clenched teeth.

 Before I knew it, a violent orgasm was ripping through me, making me see stars, rainbows, heaven, and hell. That was when Lani began bucking against my mouth, using my lips as her personal toys.

 “Shit, I’m coming too,” Lani screeched out.

 Lewis pulled from me, then rolled me to the side, pulling Lani to him to plunge into her depths.

 “Fuck, Lew!”

 He groaned loudly and set a fast pace. He had no intention of going slow.

 “Your turn, babygirl.”

 I knew what he was instructing. Crawling to Lani, she nodded at me, allowing me to swing my leg over her face while still kneeling with my ass facing Lewis.

 “Clean her up for me, princess.”

 Lani sucked my sex into her mouth and lapped at mine and Lewis’s combined juices, instantly making me moan and whimper. As Lani moaned her pleasure, I dropped my head to the bed and focused on the orgasm that was bubbling within me. Lewis’s hand dropped to my ass, making me whimper again.

 “Goddamn, this ass is something else!”

 He slapped it again, this time a lot harder than I felt his lips against the most taboo part of me, which made me fling my head back. Not only was Lani underneath me making it damn hard for me to go back to strictly dick, but Lewis was behind me, showing me the pleasure I’d been missing out on.

 That was the last straw for me before I came undone. Dropping to the bed on my stomach, I tried to catch my breath from the sheer force of my orgasm. Lewis kissed my ass, then rolled to the side to lay on his back. The three of us panted in the elegance of the room. I don’t know how many minutes passed before any of us moved, but when I moved, I saw the sun rising through the window and groaned.

 “Oh god, the sun, make it stop,” I whined.

 “Two of a kind indeed, Lewis said on a scoff before he clapped his hands, bringing the blinds to a close, darkening the room.

 We all slithered to the covers slipping underneath them. Lewis laid in the middle while Lani and I climbed on either side of him. When I rested my head on the pillow, I sighed, and Lewis kissed my cheek.

 “Thank you for putting us out of our misery,” he whispered into my ear, making me smirk before I rolled my eyes to focus on sleep. I was exhausted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TagList:

@maxcullen @night-of-the-living-shred @chaneajoyyy @queenoftheworldisdead @shar74nett @raveviolet @dangerouslovefanfic @caramara3 @sonjashuterbugjohnson @emjayewrites @blumeesworld @tashawar @thevintagelover @nachtaiwrites @imanerdychubbyqueen @tinydramatist  @aquarious-smr-writing @ellixthea @kaiya- ch4n @zeelmol @xsweetdellzx @labella420 @coldmuffinbanditshoe @areubeingserved @caplover22​

Chapter Four, the final chapter will be on @munteanhorewrites page.

[peachnewt]

Midnight Snack - Gingerbread 1

Merry Christmas, ya’ll!  

I wanted to do something for the holidays involving my slow burn boys.  Somehow, this rose to the top.  Here is the first taste of Louis and Will switching places in the pred/prey relationship, while in a fantasy setting.  ^_^

Midnight Snack - Gingerbread

by peachnewt

Part 1

Once upon a time, a mountain in the West grew so tall that it's peaks, covered in icy snow, would reflect the sun's light like a candle, lighting the valley with a golden glow an hour after sunset.  Thus, the mountain was called the Lantern Pillars and the inhabitants of the valley benefitted from the extra hours of light to store away supplies for the harsh winter and pursue artistic endeavors. Buildings and towers stretched like candles ever upwards, bearing banners and stained glass that could be seen in any blizzard.  The valley, called Wax Wake, became the jewel of the Pillars, a destination for many nobles and merchant passing through the mountains with their exotic goods.  

But one area of the Pillars lay in the lee of the various crags and slopes in the mountain range; a rocky, forested area called the Greyfells.  In that dim and cold stretch of land lived a giant name Louis, the Grey.

Louis was an imposing figure, standing almost eighty feet high with wide shoulders, ice gray eyes, and a silvery blond mane of hair.  This wasn't a "fee-fi-fo-fum" giant that barreled around the countryside in rough furs, demanding maidens to keep his cave tidy, or oxen to feed his hunger, or gold to upkeep his lifestyle.  His mother raised him and his two older brothers better.  He kept his cave in semi-chaotic order with baskets and hangers for his possessions, did his own laundry, varied his diet with vegetables and other forage-foods so he didn't need to spend as much money on meat, and he had a yearly stipend for protecting mountain passes from bandits and clearing out rubble for merchant caravans.  

But Louis still wore rough furs.  Why wear fine wool or linens when they would tear on the slopes?  Plus it was cold up there.

And Louis did have a temper. While he didn't boom "fee-fi-fo-fum", he did grumble like a storm when the local coffee house didn't count out enough beans to last until his next monthly grocery run.  It was basic math, take the normal about of coffee a person needed and scale it up by sixteen.  

When one passed through the mountain trails they saw deep pits from fists, slashes of red, and the strike of an axe blade bigger than a wagon. Sometimes, at night when the Lantern Pillars had dimmed the townsfolk could see sparks flying in the Greyfells, an axe hitting stone.  They heard tale of blood-thirst and violence from a surviving bandit that surrendered himself to the authorities in Wax Wake after the band he had been allied with had been destroyed.  

At one point in the early Autumn, Louis left for a week.  "Visiting family", he said to those left in charge of the mountain pass. When he came back, he had dark bags under his eyes, a large sack over his shoulder, and a posture akin to a starved wolf.  

"I'm working on something important," he growled at the human guards.  "I'll do my rounds, but don't expect anything else unless it's an emergency."  

It had been customary for Wax Wake to hire the giant to help clean the stain glass of their towers, since he could reach them so easily, and hang the new banners for the winter celebrations.  They dared not ask this year.  Louis stayed in the Greyfells.  

No One with any brains or sense of self preservation wandered near the Greyfells, or pried into Louis the Grey's business.  

***

"If I had any brains I would have stayed with a caravan and waited until morning," William hissed to himself and the blizzard.  His booted feet sunk into another snowdrift.

William had been traveling with a group of builders and craftsmen on their way to Wax Wake to peddle their wears and skills.  It was a rite of passage to try their hands in the jeweled city.  But their wagon axel broke halfway down the mountain.  They hadn't the supplies to repair it and civilization was half a day away.  William had offered to find help, and went off in the direction of Wax Wake.  Except a blizzard had descended; white, blinding, howling, turning him around until he could not tell north from south.  

Night had fallen.  William, still lost, squinted for any sign of light in the darkness.  He tucked his hands under his armpits, sinking his chin into the scarf around his neck.  

His nose, not his sight, had been his salvation.  William smelled cloves, ginger, and cinnamon on the breeze.  Cookies? William thought.  Spicebread? He hadn't eaten since noon and his stomach growled, bidding him onward.  

He saw a faint light in the same direction as the scent.  Shelter, he hoped.

William wove through the trees and scratching branches until the bramble broke into a clearing pure white. The wind died in the circle, the snow and moonlight pristine as it lit up a lopsided brown shack caked in bits of white.  William didn't care how badly made the domicile was, it was shelter from the cold, hopefully occupied with someone that could help him, and feed him.  

"Hello?"  William trudged on towards the shack.  Warm spice hung in the air along with the overwhelming aroma of sugar.  And the snow under his feet felt different, more like sand.  

He peered into the shack. A stub of a candle, as big around as his thigh, had been lit and took up the majority of the wooden floor.  No furniture, no people aside from him.  

"Anyone home?"

What an odd house, he mused.  Stepping inside, the smell of gingerbread surrounded him, yet the only piece of gingerbread he saw was a stale hunk the size of his fist to the side of the candle.  If no one was home, they wouldn't be grudge him a bit of gingerbread from the floor.

While chewing on the hunk of gingerbread, delicious, he examined the rest of the rough house. The vaulted roof had gaps filled in with a white paste burned from the candle.  His eye followed the wall, attached to the roof with a tilt, leaving another gap filled in with white paste.  The house wasn't hewn from stone, brick, or wood.  Was it wattle and daub?  Clay?    

Will tested a ragged, brown wall, scratching it with a cold fingernail.  "It's gingerbread?"  

The tiny scratch, however, was enough to test the structural integrity of the shack and find it wanting.

Down came the walls, burying William in giant slabs of gingerbread, snuffing the candle.  

---

Will woke stuck between a pool of slowly cooling wax and a slab of gingerbread pinning him across his stomach.  Will gasped, trying to fill his lungs.  Despite its confectionary nature, the slab of what had once been a roof, or perhaps a wall, could not be shifted no matter how much he struggled.  Pinned as he was, he couldn't eat his way out either.  He would either freeze to death, or suffocate.

Will bleated out into the night for help until his throat felt like sand and the wax under him had hardened.  Then he heard a rumble, vibrating the ground and making the edge of the roof dig deeper into his belly.

An avalanche?  

Instead Will heard of roar of frustration and the slab over him was lifted as if it was light as a feather.

A giant face, bearded, blond, and full of icy fury stared at him.  The whispered giant of the Greyfells dressed in furs and breath of frost.

"Are you fuckin' kidding me?!"  

***

Louis had stomped through the forest towards the protective circle he had set up for his project.  He carried a bag of red candies and a pot of icing with a small trowel.  If he could get all of the decorations up tonight then he could sleep in the next day. When he arrived, he saw a set of footprints in the pristine snow, and the gingerbread house collapsed.  Of course when he lifted the roof he'd find a meddling human.  

"Are you fuckin' kidding me!?"  Louis snapped.  

"What?" breathed the human.  

Louis tossed the gingerbread roof to the ground where it broke into four pieces, and then pulled the brown haired human out with one hand.  He stared at little menace, eye to beady eye. "I've been trying to keep this damned house together with sugar paste and a prayer, and then you come along and nibble on it like a fuckin' mouse until it falls?!"

"It was an accident!" yelled the human, pawing at the large hand that held him with his one free arm.  The tips of his feet, sticking out the other end of the giant's fist, twitched.  "I was lost and looking for shelter and food. And the shack wasn't stable, I barely touched it!  And the only piece of gingerbread I ate had already fallen from the walls!"  

"Shack!?" Fury lit up the giant's eyes like lightning.  He squeezed the human just enough to make him wheeze.  "I worked all day on this house and you call it a shack?"  

"S-sorry, but by definition it was a shack.  Though a delicious one.  I'm sure you can build a better one in a few hours."  

Louis didn't want to admit that the fallen shack had taken him two days, and had been his best effort out of seven.  

"I'm out of patience, out of my mind, and out of coffee," growled Louis.  He felt cruel and liked it, tapping into the reputation giants had gained as blood-thirsty ogres.  "You picked the wrong day to piss me off.  Cause I also haven't eaten in the last five days."  

Will gulped, suddenly nervous at seeing the giant's perfect grin.  "There is something admiral to be found in fasting in protest or in pursuit of a passion.  Why break such a streak?  Why not six days?"  

"Oh, I don't know."  Louis let his growling stomach speak for itself, causing the human to blanche.  "Maybe because it'll make me feel better."

"I'm sure we can talk about this in a reasonable manner!" screeched the human as he was pulled closer to the giant's mouth.  

"Reason left long ago."  Around the same time he had left to visit home and got saddled with this ridiculous task.

"There is always time for reason.  Starting with introductions!  I'm William James Rowe from Brex."  William stuck his hand out in the giant's directions, as if expecting a handshake.  "And you are?"  

Louis unclenched his jaw and breathed in the smell of sweat, sugar, and fear.  "Hungry."  

Part 2 

[jae-canikeepyou]

| muse | j.jh

pair: jaehyun x fem!reader

genre: art student!jaehyun + art student!yn

a/n: thought this on a whim whilst reminiscing my art portfolio, so we’ll see how you’ll like this with yuno in it. not the best i’ve written but hope you enjoy reading 💞😉 ~j

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with jaehyun, there were three things that happened uncontrollably. one was he caused your heart to skip; two, your chest to feel all giddy; and three, your stomach to capsize. why you may ask? it was his very presence in the art academy which had heads turning and lips to whisper words of awe. he was labelled and called a prodigy.

be it in any medium of art, he was blessed to have such a talent that his parents thought it’d be a waste if not enhanced or put attention to. even your professors favored him and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t jealous. despite his princely looks, he could sometimes be a total snob. he’d be in a good mood the first hour and then changed completely in the next. oh the duality, you couldn’t understand him at all.

though question marks continued to fill your head, let’s just say you had a tad advantage compared to girls who were overly thirsting for him; he was your classmate, a major in fine arts. sometimes you unconsciously found yourself sniffing his perfume each time he helped you with the shading of portrait drawings you worked upon. he was that close. as much as you loved seeing him almost every day, you hated at the fact you still didn’t know the ways to calm your loving facial expression towards him.

it was a funny sight —at least to your friends— that they could see how elongated your nose grew every time you deny your feelings for him. yet as time passed the possibility of your admiration might turn into romantic feelings instead. there wasn’t a need to prove to you since your friends have pointed it out already.

but you yourself wasn’t too sure about it.

“please,” hyejin popped with a huge round of an eyeroll at your oblivion. legs crossed as she chewed her bubblegum. “y/n, admit that you like him. it isn’t that hard to say out loud.”

other students, including your studio tutor held in their giggles in the midst of the silence within the room. true enough hyejin was the mood maker.

her words made you stop painting the colours that were meant to accentuate the highlights of the subject. “i’m not like you who’s very expressive in words.” you replied, taking few peeks at your surroundings in case anyone eavesdrop.

hyejin wasn’t supposed to be in the studio today. she was a literature student where writing poetry was her forte. but because your tutor appreciated her effort to promote the visual arts department in the school paper, her going to the studio with you became a normal thing.

“it doesn’t have to be in words. like, i don’t know? paint some canvas and pour out your feelings through colours? yellow’s joy or purple’s dazzling or red is love-” she stopped as you gave her an annoyed gaze. “i’m sure he’ll get it. he’s not called a prodigy for nothing.”

“painting is not done on a whim, hyejin.” you emphasised, not noticing the stress put upon your work. “it takes time and thinking and creativ-”

“yeah yeah,” she made her bubble burst, which by the way irritated you since it gave off the impression that she wasn’t listening to you at all. “abstract seems so random though. no thinking there.”

you pointed the brush at her, yet careful enough that it doesn’t touch her nose. if another word comes from her mouth, you wouldn’t hesitate staining it. “sis, shapes are used instead of virtual reality, so abstract still needs thinking. you just express it differently.” hearing this, hyejin paused for a while before deciding which reaction to give, and with that you were satisfied into silencing her for a while. “now you know how i feel when i don’t understand shakespeare’s ‘love looks not with eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged cupid painted blind’.”

she let out a scoff, “pfft, you’re the cupid in that quote. you can’t even see that you like mr. prodigy so much.”

jaehyun gently opened the door and handed a paper slip to the tutor, which apparently was a doctor’s certificate. due to his arrival, hyejin elbowed you so hard that its force caused you to jolt in your seat then knocking two of the glassed jars placed on the narrow deck of your easel.

the tutor looked at your direction, and lowered his specs at the noise. flustered than you ever were in your entire life, you took the dust pan. you tried your best to not match eyes with jaehyun who was now smiling from second hand embarrassment. at farthest decibel your ears could handle, you could hear hyejin sneering with huffed laughs.

“i’m gonna kill you.” you mouthed from a table away and gave her a warning look. you gestured the phrase, followed by a scowl to refer her teasing tongue.

“i’ll help, y/n.” jaehyun offered, but you assured him it was fine. “what’re you working on?” he asked as you both walked back to the tables, he took out his tools and unfinished work.

this time was the season of cramming hours into a tight schedule, there were many initial stages/assignments due and portfolios to be completed. you guessed it was natural for you both to update each other regarding progress. “just giving more highlights and tweaks, then i’ll start on the portraits.”

he only pressed a smile, a breathy chuckle as a response while he focused on his art. “do you still need my help on shading?”

“i think i got the hang of it. thanks.” you damped the brush with water.

“alright, if you need me, i’m just here.”

your eyes shot down to your pockets, quickly answering the phone to quiet down the “supposedly” soundless vibration. and you wished you didn’t fished out the device if you knew that the message was from hyejin.

[18:45] hyejin: damn it y/n, confess already! 🤪

[18:45] you: if you could shut up maybe i will?? i could hear your voice haunting me 🙃

[18:46] hyejin: if there’s no progress today, i’m so gonna take action & tell him myself 😌

[18:47] you: ugh anything but that pls 😣

the thing with being associated with the arts was that time immediately had gone passed when you’re so concentrated. everything else faded away and in that momentum, it was just the art and you. jaehyun felt this once he picked up his brush or pencil. voices in his head whispered and guided him what to do with the creativity still yet to be shown in the world.

among all the students he bonded with, there was one whom perked his interest..

you.

as mentioned, his current surroundings blurred whilst he was sucked into another dimension of concentration. but you went there with him and appeared clear. seemed a scene out of an alternate reality in his perspective, or dramatic to some people. he was intrigued.

since knowing you, he expected to sought this mutual interest deeper. if he was the beautiful, detailed canvas everyone saw in an exhibition, you were the opposite; abstract, unpredictable and rough, someone who was overlooked because others couldn’t understand the depths and entirety of you.

finishing the last layer of the painting, you stretched to sooth the numbness. the professor reminded about the last few minutes before wrapping up the class and, he handed the room keys to you. for this tutorial, students have the choice to stay behind or leave. hyejin left with the others, leaving you alone with jaehyun. whether she did that on purpose, she’d do anything to let you be alone with him.

“oh? you’re done with yours?” jaehyun shifted sideways to take a better view of your work. he looked satisfied with the way his dimples hollowed. “hm. my advise is effective.”

“yeah, you’re a life saver.” you sighed as you looked at how completed the artwork was, then trailing your eyes to him again.

“i’m proud of you.” he winked, only to blush afterwards when his stomach growled. “i wish you didn’t hear that.”

coincidently, you tossed your wallet in the air. “good timing, i’m just about to head out to the cafeteria. want anything? my treat because you helped me.” you extolled with your mood in completely positivity. jaehyun became your inspiration and for now you weren’t able to bring yourself to tell him that.

hopefully soon though— when you have the courage.

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the sleepiness in your eyes only needed ten percent more to push your lids down, the queue was unexpectedly long at this hour. it was only until minutes later had you known that another department organised a party nearby. the wait for the order would be troublesome; that’d be in the fact there were girls right behind, their gaze burning into your skin as if you were an enemy of theirs. and somehow you knew,

they might be jaehyun’s admirers.

they whispered to each other, words audible enough for your hearing and you pretended to be listening to music.

and how you wished you should’ve.

“do you know why jaehyun took fine arts?” one asked.

an intrigued response caught you walking on a tight rope. this can’t be good. “sounds like you know the reason.”

“it’s been spreading around recently..” there was a pause that had you wondering even if you knew you shouldn’t believe in any of rumours from them. “i heard the studio has this session to draw the human body and the figures. like y’know.. no clothes?”

sigh, there wasn’t even any classes for those this semester, you thought.

few giggles were heard before they spoke again. “you’re saying he’s perverted?”

“maybe? i wouldn’t be surprised if it were true.”

“isn’t that kinda hot? his eyes starting into-”

you nearly dropped jaehyun’s food and trip over an extension wire hearing that. breathing slowly and steadily, you convinced yourself that what you heard was false. he wasn’t the type of guy they assumed he was.

as much as you wanted to prove them wrong, it wasn’t your place to speak out when the friendship you have with him was not to the level of best friends. so you rushed back to the studio, not noticing your blown-away hair and burning face. what was amusing after hearing the tea, you didn’t know why you reacted in that manner. did you leave because you couldn’t stand eavesdropping any longer? or did you run due to the fact the fantasies they had were about to enter your mind?

the door was opened with a force that jaehyun looked up from his work, smiling at your quick purchase. “whoa careful there. you didn’t have to run.” he chuckled and went to your table. he took his favourite spicy cake and placed it on top heavily. the force he exerted with his hands was the total opposite to when he dealt with art. somewhere in you, you’d say it was a 0.1 percent a turn-off.

“hey, it’s food. handle with care, it’s a blessing.” you said, munching on your share of the dishes.

jaehyun clasped his palms together, bowed his head and closed his eyes. he faced you and you sat there with a confused look. “thank you y/n, you’re an angel for treating me.”

soon after, you received a message from your professor about taking out some of the tools needed for tomorrow. holding the sandwich wrap between your lips, you took a closer look at the right keys before unlocking the storage room, opening the door afterwards.

it was at least the size of two toilet cubicles, not even close to a room’s walk-in closet. the thin cabinets against both sides of the wall were two feet, and the remaining space in the middle could fit a person’s leg, stretched out. the new set of canvases were placed on the top shelf. for someone like you, it wasn’t possible to reach them on tiptoes. you grabbed a chair and stacked two tins of paint for your feet to stand upon.

if you still couldn’t reach them.. eh, bummer. disturbing jaehyun who was enjoying his meal would be rude. you weren’t that type of person to suddenly feel as if you were already close to someone. the icky and dusty feeling on your fingertips nearly had you gagging.

“jaehyun?” you called out, apparently you’ve given up in trying another attempt. “i need a hand.”

there was a long pause as to why he didn’t respond immediately. maybe you should’ve have disturbed him? but you soon rolled your eyes when a mannequin’s hand was thrown to you. his snickers was supposedly an adorable thing to hear, this kind of wasn’t, because you desperately needed help now. “jeong jaehyun!”

he hummed right after you mentioned his name the second time. “i’m just messing around. but does that mean you’ll treat me again? i helped you.” his voice sounding with excitement.

you nodded, your anger long forgotten but he could tell there was conflict in your head. “i’ll consider it, so help me before i smack you with this plastic hand.” your tone slightly straining since you didn’t feel him entering the room.

“yeah. coming.” he said, giggling at your impatience. as you tried to reach out for the canvases again, the light behind you slowly dimmed.

that was weird. “hey, it’s getting dark in here.” you said.

before he could say anything, the door slowly closed and that made you raise a brow. he noticed this too and looked into your eyes when the light within the room soon disappeared. “ah sorry, i must’ve kicked the door stopper.” even in the dark, you could tell he was flustered from his actions. “i’ll open it.”

however his groans and vigorous sounds from the door knob stated otherwise. “what?” you heard him raise his voice.

“what’s wrong?” you hopped off the tins and grabbed the knob, twisting it clockwise then anti-clockwise. “it’s jammed.”

you both panicked because the night wasn’t getting any younger. there were things to finish and deadlines were drawing closer. before, you thought of procrastinating even when necessary. but procrastinating like this wasn’t part of the plan.

how was it possible for the knob to be jammed? the door wasn’t closed in an impact that would cause its components to be broken. sure jaehyun was reckless and couldn’t control his strength but that really wasn’t the issue here.

the actual issue was that you were going be stuck with him for who knows until when. stuck in a sense there were just enough space for two people. jaehyun fumbled his pockets in search of his phone, an annoyed groan told you it was bad news. “call someone. my battery just died and my powerbank’s outside.”

quickly you fished out your phone, only to find that it had the same fate. “ugh i have 10% left.” you slumped your sides to the shelves like there was no hope. “i’ll try to text hyejin.”

“hm i hope she’s not too far from the campus.” jaehyun leaned against the shelves opposite from you, his expression definitely amused with your reaction. a scoff of disbelief escaped your dry lips, sliding the phone to the shelf as you put your hair on one side. “that doesn’t sound good. what did she say?”

for all the things hyejin could do to help you get out of there, she’d rather sit and tease every single nerve of your body. “she said ‘you both just made your own seven minutes in heaven! i’m laughing out loud right now.’”

and for the things you thought jaehyun would disagree with your friend, he didn’t. it surprised you when his held-in giggles came bursting out from his chest. “it’s exciting. don’t you think?” he chuckled. “this is something you see in movies.”

“okay. tell me, what’s exciting about being locked-”

“we can ask each other questions. or any topic you’d like to talk about. i wanna know more about you.” he suggested, shutting you up because if he didn’t, you’d be quite a complainer. jaehyun bent to a squat, later stretching his legs until the soles reached the sides of your hips. “i rarely get the chance to talk to you properly and i guess this is the day, so scoot over.” he gestured you to move aside a little.

“gee i wonder why?” your voice came out sarcastically. “i don’t ignore people unlike a certain someone.”

“just sit down, will you?” jaehyun seemed to take the fact to heart.

you complied and sat exact the same as he did. the tiled floor sent cool to your legs but it didn’t really matter. jaehyun began by asking how you got into art; what motivated you to choose this field. “it’s just a childhood dream of mine to keep expanding my creativity. i wanna teach kids the joy in paint, that we’re not limited to using tools. i started painting with my hands and fingers when i was five.”

“really? i’m the same, except i was three when i painted.” his dimples deepening.

though you did answer him, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him the whole story. you were just par in the arts, an average joe and always felt like your professors tied your wings together to express what you really wanted. every proposal you presented were rejected. if lucky, it still wasn’t good enough. not enough to reach jaehyun’s standards and world.

his shoes hit your hips again, the nudges were light and made you look to him. “your turn.” he said.

your eyes wander the dark room, the thin light from the sides of the door showing the outline of his face. “is it good? being called something you never wanted to be? did you know you’re gifted as a kid?”

“do you want my honest opinion?” he brought one leg to his chest, forearm resting on it as he start to ponder. hearing the soft shuffles from you in agreement, he gulped his dry throat to say the one thing he longed to say.

“i don’t like it.”

beyond speechless. you thought maybe he’d like the feeling of being center of attraction, or praised to have a skill that was out of this world. while you’d like to know what it felt like, it already told you enough that he wouldn’t want to be referred to as a prodigy. “not even a single bit?” alarmed, you squinted your eyes and he shook his head.

“i used to like it at first.. now i don’t,” jaehyun admitted but his face had changed the moment you asked him the one thing he never wanted to look back. “..because i was set apart from kids my age and they view me differently, nor have they ever treated me like every kid in the block.“

he continued how parents would tell him he was ‘inspiring’ or ‘i wish i had a kid like you; dedicated, and talented’. the claim have made him proud, yet this caused insecurity to most of his friends, and they distanced themselves from him. what was once the same ground they stood upon, it had quaked the earth and caused a wide gap. jaehyun hated the feeling of isolation by the will of others. though he had tried many times to reach out to them..

the gap continued to widen.

“there’s not much of a difference now.” he whispered yet audible enough for you to hear. ”i still have less friends. countable with fingers.. on one hand.”

probably the reason why he looked like a snob then.

“i see. so am i?.. part of your ‘friends’?” he heard you ask when reality hits you that you shouldn’t have said your thoughts out loud. closing your eyes for a bit, you heard the shift in his weight, he didn’t answer right away. it was as if he was still finding the words.

but he sat right beside you. “you’re already one when we both entered this classroom. i had a hunch you’ll be one i’ll treasure.”

if anyone was told the way he did just now, it would definitely make them smile. that was his honest opinion and you couldn’t help but smile at his words. he seemed to notice this too and let out a chuckle that was always music to your ears. “should we try to open the door again?” you changed the topic to avoid the awkward smile creeping your face. your hands gripped the knob and jaehyun tugged the hems of your jeans.

“y/n, if you do it further we’ll be damned if hyejin couldn’t open from the outside.” he stood that he was already behind you. “i’m not stopping you from trying though.”

“f-fine.” you leaned against the door, soothing your legs that experienced paresthesia. jaehyun pat your head like he always did whenever you unintentionally embarrass yourself, be it art or not whatsoever. “i just can’t seem to stay still.” oh gosh i don’t know what i’d do if i’m alone with him.

“yeah clearly.” he shrugged.

you had a scowled face and glad he didn’t see it. “the place’s so cramped-” you continued, walking to the chair you once stood on, only to lose balance when the shelves you held for support gave in to collapse from the weight it carried. with weight, the whole furniture wobbled to fall.

in a split second you felt yourself being lifted off the ground, a strong arm wrapping around your frame and saw yourself at the opposing side of the room. jaehyun closed into you as he managed to stop the some items from falling. the entire body of the cabinet covered and trapped you both in a tight place. the furniture tilted right behind him. one small move, the items could injure two and he didn’t want to risk that.

he could feel your breath touch his shirt and with the way you held his clothes, you definitely didn’t see this coming. “are you okay?” he thought there was a possibility of squishing you.

“uncomfortable, but i’ll manage.. somehow.” you honestly replied because there was no point in lying to him.. physically speaking, he’d know what you feel since he himself was also in discomfort. anyway, with your answer, this marked the third silence as there was another one creating yet another gap in the conversation.

okay y/n. you told yourself. you made everything awkward than before. first was you asked whether you were friends, which you already were. second was your stupid and careless behaviour that led to the position you’re both in now.

“what about you?” you asked after seeing the huge frame towering over both of your bodies, mostly onto his. so maybe that was another unnecessary question to ask.

jaehyun gulped and fixed his one of his palms that he gripped on the shelf behind you. you could see his adam’s apple move up and down, struggling to breathe. he pushed backwards to be able to see your face. tilting his head down, that movement alone made you look up. “uncomfortable, but i’ll somehow manage.” he smiled even though you knew he wasn’t.

“you know you’ll earn zero marks if you copy my answer.” you giggled, remembering the professor’s words at the beginning of the semester.

he flicked your forehead as he agreed with the obvious statement. “i heard him. anyway, it’s my turn to ask.”

“are we really playing the game now? can we at least try to figure how to get out of this position?” you began to whine and threw your head back where you hit your head, and you didn’t care how shameful you felt. you knew you wouldn’t stand any longer, your legs started to weaken because of stress— stress from everything jaehyun managed to make you feel, that included the little smiles and especially his hand around your waist.

jaehyun didn’t know why he put his palms behind your head before the incident happened but he knew he had to, with the way you flustered so much. he figured that you weren’t used to situations like these.

however a memory slipped into his mind that you were always your usual self with other guys around. he noticed how you held or hiccuped a breath whenever you both conversed. you and him weren’t particularly close to begin with, just enough to pass as friends and maybe it was his love for art that brought that gap closer to you.

right now? perhaps too close. literally.

“why not? it gets more fun.” he tried to hide the smile creeping his lips; at the sight of how irritated you were beneath him and he actually considered your plead to get you both to safety. but maybe he’d like to enjoy a little bit before doing so. “besides, there’s no way we can move properly with a lot of things blocking our surroundings.”

on both sides, the two of you were encased with large items and materials that were affected by the impact. “tsk.” you tilted your head to avoid looking at him. “at least try to push the huge cabinet?”

he did as he was told and from the grunts and exhausted voice, jaehyun gave up trying. “i don’t think i can. something’s probably caught in the gap between the wall and the furniture.” he tried to look over his shoulder to see if he was right.

“i thought prodigies don’t give up.” your voice sounded challenging to him.

“within the spectrum of our skill, we don’t. but outside our gift, we have the choice to.” jaehyun flicked your forehead again. “we get tired too.”

there was less force against your torso, he was trying to push the furniture again and you bubbled out a giggle. “wow you aren’t as cool as i thought you were.”

jaehyun wanted to hit you as you were being too playful at the wrong time. but as he brought his hand up, you closed your eyes shut to brace for the sharp impact. he sighed and his stomach growled in the most embarrassing way yet. “ugh, it’s because i haven’t eaten enough. i don’t have any strength left.” his stomach then growled louder.

maybe it was due to your bodies against each other’s and the heat starting to roam around the room. jaehyun clicked his tongue at the continuous mimicking of yours. “c’mon y/n i can’t be the only one doing the work here. help me push this heavy thing behind me.”

“uh no? do you think i could even help? don’t make me uncomfortable than i’m already am.” you moaned at the pain starting to grow along your spine. arching your back to avoid the discomfort from the shelves wasn’t really a good idea.

“ah you’re uncomfortable?” he implored with a smirk, his voice quite menacing as he leaned in to squeeze you between the cabinet behind you and himself.

for the whole time jaehyun knew that you didn’t mean whatever you said. he loved how you surprise him everyday and tonight he found you quite cheeky, and adorable too. by quite, it meant that you were like a child wanting to go home. a huff from him felt like the gust of wind. “‘i don’t have any strength left’.” you copied his words. seeing his lips pout, it was alright to give in. “will you treat me food if i help?” you returned the question because you treated him.

“you’re lucky you’re cute.” he suddenly said, with a soft chuckle, you knew he was smiling. it had gotten you speechless that it was hard to tell whether he said knowingly or not. “we can buy what the other wants after we get out of here, okay?” his attempt to get the wood off him yet again failed.

you clapped your hands quite hyperactively and squealed as if he asked you out on a date. “oh yay! okay. i wouldn’t want to be rained on for another hour anyway.” you teased, in which he exhaled heavily from his nostrils.

“i’m not that sweaty.” he grumbled, almost vibrating with the exertion of his energy.

“just perspiring.” you added.

he hit your head with his, for sure you’ll have a prominent bruise and that would make you a victim for hyejin for the next few days. or tonight, if she would get you both out. “that’s the same meaning.”

it took less than two minutes to take the weight off his back. jaehyun saw everything in slow motion— he was falling backwards and you, frontwards. “whoa!” for a moment you thought you hit yourself on a wall. that was for a brief second before the impact was replaced by a warm hug.

you checked if he was okay, he became your safe fall and again he saved you when you didn’t ask for it. “i didn’t expect.. i’m sorry.” you pressed your lips realising you were in between his legs.

he hissed at the pain and sat tiredly on the floor, using all of the fabrics of his clothes to wipe the sweat. “it’s okay.” he patted your back.

“right.. this is awkward. i better get off..” you chuckled and dusted your clothes awkwardly but what he said next really caught you off guard.

“do you want to do it?” he queried, taking you back as your head shot up and hit his chin with your forehead.

you blinked several times. “d-do what?” is this another question i won’t be able to answer?

there was a shaky grip on your waist, your heart hammered and you were afraid that he would hear it. “y’know what i’m talking about.” he put the hair strands away so he would be able to see your face under the lines of slim light.

“i don’t?” you choked on your own saliva. what was he talking about?

jaehyun’s breath made you freeze on the spot, along sudden silence. he giggled softly. “such a waste, you even have a perfect body.”

then the conversation from the two girls at the cafeteria entered your mind right when you thought deep. hold on, the rumours can’t be true..

he stood up shortly, cornering you by the door and the lights revealed his eyes, smiling shyly. “you have perfect proportions.” as of now, you were a little nervous. you couldn’t process what you were hearing from your crush’s lips and looked away where you could see hyejin’s figure closing the studio’s door.

finally hyejin’s here. i have to tell him. “uh jaehyu-”

“can you be my model?” he held your hands.

oh shoot it is true?

“i need someone to pose for my next art portrait and you’re the only one i can ask.”

‘well aren’t you quite the deep thinker~’ you could imagine hyejin’s voice telling you off at the back of your mind. you shook your head and shut your eyes for her imaginary presence to go away, making you miss seeing jaehyun’s expression turn to a small pout.

suddenly you felt like your soul left your body. what were you thinking y/n?! erase the thought! cleanse your mind from what you heard from the girls!

now you stopped being an embarrassment, you looked at him. however, before you could answer, the door swung open, causing you both to fall over and adjust to the lights above you. hyejin looked down at the two of you, her bubblegum popping with brows raised. “girl, i texted you back and said i’m opening the door. didn’t you see- oh, did i come at the wrong time?”

jaehyun quickly got on his toes, ears turning red while you covered your face in embarrassment. “this is a misunderstanding hyejin!” he stuttered and fixed his collar. you dug for your phone to check the message, but it died long before.

she blew another bubble and popped. “mhm, i can see that.” she winked at the both of you and turned to leave.

“hyejin!” you whined and clung on her legs.

“i’m leaving!” she singsonged and shook her ankles like you were a bug. “i’m giving you more alone time with your muse!”

“oh my g- you!” you chased her down. “quiet!”

she laughed cheekily and managed to exit the studio, sticking out her tongue and pointed behind you. ‘walk home with him!’ hyejin mouthed, and you couldn’t be more annoyed with her because that was indeed true. what was once a wishful thinking became reality. she knew you more than you did yourself.

as you sighed heavily, it got you hitching a breath that jaehyun might’ve heard and saw the whole thing. you turned around and he was packing his stuff, yours included. the artworks were left untouched since you both would be back here tomorrow. he gave your bag and you chose to not talk because you didn’t have the audacity to do. “so, uh. what were you saying earlier?” you hoped he would forget what he just saw.

“oh y-yeah. lemme just-” he took a deep breath and looked into your eyes. “..rephrase it- wait i’m your muse?”

of course he wouldn’t forget, it just happened. damn you, hyejin! you slouched on a nearby chair and wore your hood. “i was hoping you wouldn’t find out so soon.”

“i’m flattered. thanks.” his dimples hollowed. “i was asking if you could be my reference for my next art piece..” he trailed off recalling that you declined. “..though you shook your head quickly than i thought.”

“huh i did?” your voice affirming. “oh gosh i think i did.. i’m sorry i was hearing hyejin in my head when you said that.”

jaehyun’s eyes widened when all he heard was pure honesty from you. “so will you do it for me?”

“as long as i wear clothes while at it.” you consented with your arms crossed and began to feel heat spread your whole body at the thought of the rumour.

walking along the hallway, only the sounds of shoes grazing the carpet echoed the area. you didn’t know what else to say. he brought you to the nearest convenient store where the campus’ one was closed at the hour. the food you bought turned cold and you couldn’t afford to get sick because of it.

he pulled the chair for you to sit on. “you heard them as well.” he placed his bag down. he was aware of the rumours found around and was shocked to know you knew them too. “they’re not true.”

you propped your chin as he went back to the topic. “i know.” you agreed to his words. “they don’t describe you at all.”

jaehyun sat comfortably, a smirk appearing. “me being your muse fits the description-”

this guy.. “please don’t bring that up.” you pleaded with hands clasped.

“i’m teasing.” he chuckled. “i don’t mind if you refuse want to be my model.” he said. “but i assure i’m not like other artists who paints their naked model. i have a better plan for you.”

he was trying to convince you into his world and you were slowly getting into it. “that’s like saying you really want me to.” you took your wallet and he followed suit.

“what’s wrong with wanting to paint my new muse?” he slid his chair closer to the table; closer so he could see your reactions to his honesty.

when he said that, you never turned away so fast in your life. your chest never thumped so loudly and your eyes fluttered while he continued to press onto his question. 

an assuring smile showed on your lips and he mirrored it, already knowing your response. “nope, nothing wrong at all.” you shyly accepted his request.

jaehyun then stood to get the orders, his fingers warning you that the late dinner would be on him. your heart experienced blossoms and giddiness you hoped it’d stay forever. who knows? maybe being each other’s muse could turn into something more after tonight.  

[sabraeal]

Age of Reason, Part 2

[Read on AO3]

Obiyuki AU Bingo 2021 Supernatural AU

The looming wrought-iron glares down at him; even choked with briars, it stands as proud as any guard, denying him entrance with a glance. She’d gotten in, she said, and out again even quicker. It’s possible. He just has to find the way.

His shoulders twitch, unimpressed.There’s a reason he wears gloves.

One hand wraps around a twisted bar, and a briar pierces through the leather like it’s paper. He recoils with a hiss, and to his extreme displeasure, the needle comes with him, broken right off near the glove.

He’s had worse splinters-- hell, he’s had worse stabs, but the thing’s hard to find even with the moonlight behind him. His head and shoulders keep falling into the worst angle, casting shadows shadows no matter which way he turns, leaving him to work half blind as he tries to pull it out. It makes it worse of course, each movement of his muscles sends the thing dancing around his palm, probing deeper into his flesh until he tears it out.

These damned gloves are supposed to protect him, but blood coats them still, shimmering black in the moonlight. He gives them a real contemplative look, some real consideration, and then cusses a streak so blue fire would be jealous. Damn that woman. If she’d gotten in, she owes him the professional courtesy of telling him how. He has half a mind to stomp right back to that tavern and shake her till she spills her secrets.

He takes a breath, holds it. It’s fine. This is far from the worst job he’s ever done.

The thing slides across the packed dirt, sand and scree skittering beneath its bare skin. It’s a woman in shape, diaphanous nightrail clinging so scandalously to its curves that wives clap hands over wandering eyes. She would have been a pretty girl in life, but in her undeath, she makes more than a convincing monster.

He stands in the holy circle of the Heavenly Maiden, salt staining his hands, and it hisses at him, back arched like a cat’s. Red stains its front, dribbling from full lips down to soak her gown.

“Kurei!” The name catches on the wind, already torn away. The mayor clutches at his door, lifting a hand to point through his wards. “It’s her-- the demon--”

“I know.” It’s an effort to lift the words out of a deadpan. “She’s no match for me.”

The spirit cocks its head; he knows that angle too well, the one that says, oh you think so? He lifts his shoulders, a subtle shrug. No hard feelings.

Her claws clench in the dirt. Ah, he’ll pay for that little line later. Already he’s at a disadvantage-- a full moon might have shone through, but with a chunk shaved from one side he’s stuck waiting for the wind to hurry it all along while he stands here, stalling.

His breath mists in the night air. Just one of the hazards of the job.

“You’re trapped in here with me, spirit.” In the dark, its hair is coarse, thick and black, rippling with each breath. The perfect hand-hold, should it dare tread close enough. “Your fight is with me!”

He grins as it growls, edging around his circle of salt. It follows, mimicking his movements, it on all fours and him on the balls of his feet. Already his cheek stings-- its limbs are long and strong but he didn’t expect the elbow to be so sharp-- but he doesn’t lift a hand to rub at it. Each moment here is the space between victory and condemnation, and he has none of them to spare.

Finally, the clouds part.

“I have you, beast!” Around him, the circle flares to life, the pure light of the heavens infusing it, glowing with an intensity would blind to those outside it. “Tempus fugit! Sapere aude! Ad meliora!”

For a moment its body leaps into the air, lunging for him, trying to tear his throat, but in the next it’s thrown to the ground, as if grabbed by heaven’s hand itself. With his last words still echoing in the square, the spirit spasms, voice railing to an unholy keen.

“Erat ergo sum! Quid pro quo!” He calls out, shaking holy water over it, black and red spotting her as he washes away its monstrous desires. “Non ducor duco!”

It gives a single, great heave of its body, and suddenly she’s limp, no longer a vengeful spirit but a girl once more. A mere husk that once held life. Mist rises from the circle as he lifts her body, curling coolly around his fingers.

“Caveat.” The night carrying his voice further than any earthy words should-- “Emptor.”

The villagers all peer out their windows, the more daring of them peeking out doors. Now that the danger’s over, everyone wants to see the monster hunter and his prey. He’s heard plenty talk about the noble nature of man, but none of them know the truth-- when fear strips away all else, it’s only cowardice and curiosity that remain.

“Kurei,” creaks the mayor. “What--?”

“It’s over,” he announces. “I must bring the corpse away from here, and bury it.” With a dark look, he adds, “Alone.”

He turns his back on them, letting the moon burn away the mist he leaves behind.

The barmaid here is all curves, coarse tawny hair tumbling down her back, meant to draw the eye straight to her swinging hips. A tempting morsel; at least by the way the men here follow her with their gaze, hungry for more than ale. The barman must have tripled his profits having a girl like her on; there’s no limit to drink a man can have while he’s thirsting with his eyes.

But not Shuuka. His stare is fixed right across the table, brows drawn tight in thought. “That’s some story, mister.”

“And all true.” He waits until the man takes a good, long draught from his cup to add, “I earn my keep traveling, finding spirits to soothe and monsters to cull. Or maidens to save, when the situation demands it.”

“Just maidens?” The barmaid sidles up to him, a frothing mug in hand, and already his mouth is watering. “Or are you looking to expand your repertoire?”

He lets his lips lilt into a leer. “I’m willing to help with any problem that needs solving, maiden or--” he lets his gaze rake up her-- “otherwise. Provided I’m welcome.”

Her own mouth is a mirror of his own. “You seem the sort to always be finding doors open, if you don’t mind me saying, mister.”

“Ah.” He hums, leaning close. The other men in the pub lean in too, faces ripe with envy. “That’s the trick of it-- I wait to be asked.”

Amusement flickers through her eyes, as amber as his own. She sets the mug in front of him, its thick head sloshing over the rim. “Here you are, on the house.”

The maid casts one last, linger look over at him, all hooded. The sort that says he could find more than a drink on the house if he played his cards right. And here’s him, a man who never lost a hand.

“So that’s what brings you here?” Shuuka says, voice tight. Nerves, he thinks, the sort a rational man might have in the face of the unknown. “Sh-- the prince’s mistress?”

Ah, or maybe that’s guilt, he’s hearing. “So it’s true, then? There’s a girl sleeping in that manor house?”

Shuuka’s fingers clench, knuckles white where they lay on the table. “If it was...?”

He doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe, just waits.

Dark eyes lift, glimmering as they meet his. “You could do something about it?”

He lets his mouth ease, swallowing down the victory in his throat. “I can’t do anything that would hurt.”

For a long moment, Shuuka sits still. Not the sort that comes from fear or hope but indecision. A man on a precipice.

And oh, how easy it is to see when they jump. “What’s your name? What do they...” He hesitates, swallowing. “What do they call you?”

“Lots of things. Jack of all trades, for one,” he hums, settling back in his seat. “Monster Hunter. Miracle Man. Savior.”

Shuuka’s brow draws tight. “You’re some kind of...priest?”

“Oh, no.” He lets his eyes linger when the barmaid bends at the waist, leaning over the counter to talk to the barman. “Not that. But you can call me...Nanaki.”

There’s a tree.

He surveys the old gnarled grandfather, its thinning leaves rustling in the wind, a single branch hunched over the briars. He should have guessed; it wasn’t like she was going to get her hands dirty and bleeding to take a look at a dead girl.

His hands flex, the leather around them creaking. His palm aches when he presses it to the trunk-- that’ll teach him to get impatient-- but he knows how to climb without relying on his grip. It’s nothing to shimmy right up, soles planted solid on grandfather’s inquisitive arm. He’d call this sloppy-- nobles often were, thinking that guards and dogs and a lady’s scream could keep them safe-- but...

Ten years. Plenty of time for even a well-trimmed tree to insinuate an elbow where it didn’t belong. Especially one that looked as nosy as this old grandfather did.

He edges out, the branch solid beneath his feet. Each step is inquisitive; impatient he may be, but enough tumbles from too high had taught him the value of respecting nature’s limit. The last thing he needs is for this to break over one of those fleur-tipped spears. Career limiting, his old master used to tell him, followed by one of those hideous braying laughs.

Dead was his preference. He might make his money putting on a show, but it didn’t serve to forget that some finales were final.

The branch bows beneath his feet, those iron-tips scraping at its bottom. Looks like he’s ridden this particular pony as far as it’ll go. With a breath and a wish, he leapt from the tree, tumbling down, down--

His feet catch, hard earth beneath them. No, stone, since his foot slips, nearly spilling him straight into a knot of brambles. Pretty ones, at least, dripping with roses as bright as an apple’s skin.

He whistles, plucking a petal off one. “Well now,” he breathes, letting it flutter away in the wind. “Isn’t that lucky.”

Cat calls and wolf whistles cleave through the din when the barmaid wraps her fingers around his wrist, leading him away from the table. There’s glares too, envy making eyes dark as he passes. There will be men who hate him in the morning for no other reason than he had what they couldn’t. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it certainly won’t be the last.

Fine by him, anyway. Angry men are easy to predict-- they only want to do what will cause the most pain. It’s the ones that cheer him on that are dangerous; they need to be courted, molded.

Shuuka is neither. Curious.

“Hey, hero,” the barmaid purrs, pressing her body against his. “Keep your eyes where they belong.”

By the swing of her hips, she means on her. Well, it’s certainly not a bad view.

She sashays up those last few steps, shoving him into a room--

Torou’s smile is gone the moment the latch catches. “You are on your own with this one. I am out.”

Leaving Oberwald takes an extra day; the villagers keep him plied with ale until he tumbles into bed. When he wakes while the sky’s still moonless and dark, two sets of hands rubbing down his chest. Who is he to deny himself a reward so justly earned?

Still, waiting makes the spirits restless.

“Serves you right,” he grouses, rubbing at the new lump dulling the sharp edge of his cheekbone. “You’re supposed to make it look good, not actually hit me!”

The spirit folds her arms across her chest-- or under it, rather, framing their best asset when it comes to fooling these bumpkins. A barmaid with big tits never fails to turn heads, and should someone get suspicious of the girl who disappears when the evil spirit does, well-- no one can pick her face from a crowd.

“Oh, complain, complain.” The huff she lets out doesn’t even have a hint of remorse. “I’m sure you got those village girls to kiss it all better.”

He can’t help his grin. “Two of ‘em.”

“Ugh.” Her eyes roll, the kohl still clinging to the corner of them. It’s the most stubborn part of the makeup, but Torou makes do; by the next town she’ll have wings drawn on so sharp they could cut a man’s throat. “How is it you get to bed down with every miss looking for a good time, but I can only look at all those strapping young farm boys?”

“Pitchforks. Torches,” he reminds her. “Us, running away in the middle of the night...”

No one remembers the barmaid, except for an angry wife. And they know how to drum up some bloody-minded friends once night falls. That’s another thing that makes the spirits angry, but well, that’s not his problem. Maybe if they were more circumspect, they could tumble a few village boys-- or girls-- if they liked.

“Fine,” she mutters, itching at her neck. Some red flakes off, falling to the dirt below, lost beneath the tread of their boots. “Where to next?”

He’d thought he’d been mulling it over still, but the second she asks, it’s the answer at the tip of his tongue. The only one.

“Nowhere that needs a drowned girl!” Torou warns him, pitch raising to one that would make dogs howl. “My ears still don’t feel right after the last one...”

“Clarines.”

She scuffs to a halt. “Clarines? The ‘realm of reason?’ That Clarines?”

He doesn’t stop, just shortens his stride as he puts a jaunty skip in his step. “The very same.”

Her steps start again, hurrying to keep pace with his. “Why? I thought they were enlightened out there. Above all this folk talk.”

“No one is, if we play them well enough.” He slides her a sly smile. “And we will.”

“Best of the best,” she agrees. “So what’s the score?”

His grin pulls wide. “I hope you have your kissing lips ready. We have a princess to awaken.”

His hands fly up between them, trying to ward off her waggling finger. She’s carrying five knives at minimum, but of all the weapons on her body, that finger scares him the most. “Torou, come on--”

“Don’t you ‘come on’ me, Nanaki.” She doesn’t need a steel when her tone’s already so pointed. “I’m not going back there, not even if you beg me. Not even if you drag me. I’ll gnaw off my own leg if you try.”

“Torou, what--?” She shifts, just enough for him to see the wide stretch of her eyes, pupils blown and white all around the rim. “Are you...scared?”

“Scared? Scared?” Torou laughs, wild. “I’m terrified. We’ve played a lot of games, but this, this-- this curse thing, it’s real.”

“Oh, c’mon,” he huffs, leaning against a bedpost. “You know that’s not true. We’ve been running this grift for how long now, and the only supernatural thing out there is how easily everyone will believe it.”

“Listen, that’s what I thought. That’s what I always thought, you know that.” Her voice trembles, shoulders hunching around her chest. “But I went there. I went right into that manor to case the joint-- I knew there’d be stuff in there, stuff we could sell and get out of this rat race.”

His jaw slackens. They’d never talked about that, about what could lie at the end of a real good grift, of what they would do if they had enough coin to stop. He hadn’t even known she’d wanted to, let alone that she--

“I went in there,” she murmurs, rounding into herself. “And someone-- someone screamed.”

He licks his lips, brain jittering with the thought of this ending, or having somewhere to stop. “Screamed?”

“Don’t laugh.” Torou’s voice barely wavers above a whisper. “Someone screamed, and I-- I went to find them. Maybe some kid got in there and broke a leg. I could get some credit you know, really get those bumpkins eating out of my palm. But I walked in and--” she chokes, fingers clawing at her throat-- “there was blood, so much blood, just covering the floor, and then--”

Her breath fills his ears, so harsh, so pained. He’s only heard her like this once, back before, and his blood runs cold.

“And then.” Her hand comes out to grip his wrist, drawing him into her terrified gaze. “It sounded like someone was dying.”

[fictional-thoughts]

Sweetness

the mandalorian x reader

i had this idea that, when given the chance, my guy mando really enjoys going down on his girl. so! let’s all thirst for the hottie with a helmet on ;)

words: 2.6k

warnings: smut, female receiving oral, blindfold use, slight bondage, naked female, clothed male

—

The early morning light is splayed over her body, dots of golden light sprinkles her skin and the light grey sheets of the bed, the thick and heavy comforter pulled back and forgotten it hangs from the edge of the bed.

The Mandalorian takes in the sight, his bare hands curved around her thighs, thumbing the soft skin in smooth circles. Without the helmet contouring his vision, he sees everything so clearly, the intimate details of her, the way her reddened lips part in soft sounds, her wrists crossed and twisting in the soft bounds he’d looped around only moments before, her soft hair against the worn pillow, the arches of her back, pushing her chest upwards as her body is moving without thought, only chasing the closeness he so promised her.

She’s so warm in his inexperienced hands, he’d never imagined anything to be as good as the way she felt under him. He’s had her before, but every time it feels brand new, opening a vault of hidden opportunities, slick and ready at his wanting.

The light turns as the morning drags on, splashing lines of light seen through the chipped windows of The Mandalorian’s Ship. His hands chase the warm light, pulling and feeling down upwards until they reach her breasts, she jumps at the contact, smiling softly as his large hands engulfe the softness of her breast.

“Please,” she’s quiet, barley loud enough for him to hear. Her eyes are closed under the black silken fabric covering her eyes. Keeping the secret of who the Mandalorian really was. The identity unknown, all that runs through her veins in soul attraction to who he was as a person, not a Mandalorian, a Bounty Hunter, a killer... One who she trusted enough to have her in this way.

“Is this what you want?” He’s close to her ear, his warm breath tickiling her neck, his deep voice mixed with heavy breathing curling through the air, sending warm shocks of arsousl through her. She shudders, trangled up in the idea of him touching her just a little more. The Mandalorians large hand is still on her breast, his palm running down, fingertips sinking into the soft flesh. “Talk to me,” he’s kissing her neck, slowly and messily, basking in the taste of her, the sounds of her soft voice, the creaking of the bonds; he knows just how bad she wishes to touch him, to break from the bonds and feel him alive under her fingertips, to knot her hands in his thick hair, drag her nails in lines down the soldiers back, knives to a stone.

The ripping feeling of desperation is nearly killing her, he’s biting down on her shoulder and squeezing her chest and it’s all too much, she’s tugging on the restraints as her breathing speeds up; she’s sure he can hear her heart pounding. “Keep going,”

He catches her mouth in his own, their lips come together in bruising force of lips tongues and teeth clashing and he inhales deep through his nose as she nearly steals his breath away, her lips part and she licks into his own and he’s only able to stop himself from devouring her again and again. It’s all rotten candy and sickly sweet wine, she’s a whisper of what things in heaven should taste of. His hands never stop moving, mapping the plains of her body, an artists shaping the statue, he’s everywhere all at once, she chokes on a gasp as he tweaks one of her nipples before moving to taste her with his tongue. The warm wetness of his mouth over on her tit is pushing her closer to collapsing with heated arousal.

She figures she wouldn’t need the blindfold next time, her eyes are screwed shut and not going to open for a while as the shocks of pleasure leak through her system. She can feel his soft hair brushing her flesh, his teeth dragging and digging over her skin, the roughness of his face, his chapped lips, his calloused, battle worn hands; yet they hold her so gently. It’s a battle of fire and fire within her and in him as well. He’s worried he’s taking everything out on her, getting lost in her body to forget his life, the blood on his hands, shards of broken bones and echoes of screaming victims.

The Mandalorians helmet and gloves are off, those are the only parts of him bare to her, to match her exposed nakedness. The helmet is on its side on the floor, the visor staring at the two lovers, entrnagled within one another, sharing breath through bruising kisses and his hands moulding her skin to his touch.

“Mando...” she doesn’t know his name, know his past, she only knows sharp words and gunfire, the smell of blaster smoke and the feeling of fearing of her life. “Gods, you have to touch me.”

He drags himself from her breasts and moves to cup her jaw in his large hand, pull her face closer to his, meet her swollen lips to his own. Short and damp are the kisses, slicked together with the rush of the risk. His knee keeping him upright is sinking the mattress, the hard metal plates of his amour are alien to her bare skin, and send shivers up her arching spine when the metal glides over her skin. Before tying her up, he’d slowly helped her remove her clothes, catching her lips with his own in between quickening moments of rushed passion. His adoration of her only grew when he realized she trusted him in such a way, to have her blinded, at his own mercy, a victim like no other.

He’s lathering her skin with marks and sensing out her sweet spots by following her patheticly sweet sounds, the soft sighs, hushed whimpers and moans of his name. His hand moves to push her thigh down, giving him room to settled between them, and he sees she’s so, so, so wet. She’s hot and slick with arousal. Her body trembles as he rids some of his armour, freeing up his albilty to contort and lower himself to her centre, to begin what he so desperately wanted to do. He remembers tasting her on his tongue for the first time; under her careful instructions he had buried his head between her warm thighs, snug around his ears. His chin and lips were soaked in her dripping honey he had curled his mouth around her most sensitive spots, delved his warm tongue into the cleft of her cunt he dragged her up the hill to climax, all through her whines of estastic pleasure, soft orders and shrill moans.

He’s brought back to the moment when she speaks.

“I wanna feel you so bad,” she’s pleading, not caring to see him, but to break the man free of his chains and armour, to peel back his clothing and expose him fully to her wanting, to feel the contours of his muscles, hard and sinewy under his slicked skin, she wants to tear open what’s left of his humanity and use it for her pleasure and hers alone.

Before her, the Mandalorian never thought of sex, of holding one so close he could shatter them and piece them back together, to have one at total mercy, and for them to be desperate for it. He’s moving by pure instinct, and had been each time he’s taken her before that. She’s been there for him, an open body for him to burrow into, bask in the warmth of her, to taste her, tear her apart, lick up the sweetness of her and rebuild her, all in the darkness of her own willingness.

“You trust me?” His voice is rough and slurred with his growing disire to have her. She’s nodding frantically and the Mandalorian is watching her, chest heaving. She, to him, is something else entirely, the Mandalorian is not so sure if he should fear the way she makes him feel. He would burn cities for her, destroy battleships, take a million live in cold blood is she told him to. It doesn’t cause him fear nor resentment, but utter amazement that she alone has chosen him.

“Please,” she’s saying again, her voice dipped in something so sweet he feels a skip in the pattern of his heartbeat. The Mandalorian sighs against her, inhaling shakily he looks up at her, peering through his lashes. “I dont, I don’t wanna see, I can’t bear to not feel you.” Silence follows her voice, and she’s swallowing her fear that maybes she’s said too much, that he’ll stand up, leave her longing and pathetically desperate.

It’s the silence and the darkness that is around her, the uknown of the moment. She thinks that’s why she’s so aroused, so needful of something, anything, to make something come to light. The bed creaks and there’s a shifting above her, his scent follows him, of metallic rust and smoke, of blood and dirt. It’s everything to not break from the bonds and pull him close.

She’s sure now that was line was crossed. That was the deal, was it not? To be bonded and unseeing, he could finally touch her. No matter the circumstance, he’s breaking the rules of his religion, his history, his culture. The Way, all of that along with everything his commander had burned into his mind was forgotten the moment you offered him your body, your soul.

Then there’s a short, rough tug of the strings above her and her wrists are free, she gasps softly in disbelief and before she can move Mandalorian is shifting downwards and lifting her hips to his mouth. His own eyes close as his mouth is slanted against her wet slick and honeyed skin, the soft petals of her sex under his lips, she’s crying out and her thighs are closing around his head, hips lifting to grind out as much movement as she could gather. Finally he’s there, right at the place to begin to tug her crashing release closer, she’s panting, skin dotted with sweat as he goes down on her. She’s rushing to contain her breaths, and thinks for a moment that damn she’s taught him so well.

“Stay still,” his large hands press down hard into her hips, forcing her to still. He’s following the softer movements of her body, circling his tongue around her bud he’s drinking all she has to offer.

She’s trying, but with her freed hands she immediately drops them to his head, gripped in her splayed fingers she pushing him closer to her soaked cunt, whining as he’d pull away to suck a short mark into the softness of her thigh. Her hand knots in his hair, and he finds himself groaning roughly into her when she tugs on it, fire looms within him, and he’s so achingly hard and desperate to fuck her that the Mandalorian thinks he could come right then, her nails catch in his thick dark hair and pull as he sucks and licks her sweet cunt. She’s close, panting as her breath is picking up she’s so close.

She’s telling him how good he’s doing, how his hands feel digging into her waist, his unruly hair tangled in her hands only makes her want to come faster. She’s begging and repeating his name, the cunningly sweet nickname she’s called him this whole time she’s known him. “Mando! Gods, slow down, I’m close —”

The Mandalorians not a talker, he’s assertive and straight to the point, he says what he needs to and no more than that. But now he’s sure he would be unable to string together a coherent sentence to tell her just how sweet she tastes, just how warm she was against his lips, how her hands in his hair and hips arching into his hands makes him nearly explode. The Mandalorian is too far gone to stop, he’d rather an aching jaw than you feel unwanted and forgotten about. He thinks of her in the darkness of the blindfold, and realizes just how lucky he really is. She is open and exposed to him, and willingly so if he could only allow her to see, it would make the whole thing so much better.

“You’re so — mmh,” he’s caught up in focusing on her hot and swollen bud, he wants to say beautiful, he’s never said the words aloud but all he can think to say is how fucking sweet you are against his lips, melted candy and ripely tang he’s sure she’s the best thing he’s tasted. Sucking and smoothing over with his tongue shes seconds away from bursting under him. He reaches his right hand to grip one of hers and she’s nearly sobbing as the feeling of hot pressure spreads through her anatomy.

She grips his hand, fingers linked with his own and squeezing as if she’s pulling the trigger. Her thighs tremble and tighten, it’s a burning coil strung so tight and hot, he’s only done this so many times she’s wondering just how bad it is that she’s so attracted to the Mandalorian that he can pull her to coming within minutes of only using his touch. She’s blind to him but not unfeeling.

“You’re almost there,” he’s not stopping, the seeping, white hotness of his own arousal is nearly controlling every once of his movement, he’s hard as goddamn marble and only thinks of how soft and warm she is around him. He’s licking and circling her faster and faster, closing his lips around her softness, her sweeetness dripping from his chin he is pulling her closer and closer. Her backs arching, knees drawing up and nearly suffocating the Mandalorian, pressing him as close as she can. She’s absolutely soaked and it’s only getting tighter, the coils about to break and he’s takes one last suck, swipe of his tongue and movement of his head under her hands she falls apart under him.

She’s choking on moans as waves of climatic bliss are sent throughout her body as if it were lightning on a seastorm, the burning wildfire of orgasmic endings and painful spasms of her muscles contrapt her within herself. She’s hot all over and her thighs are shaking terribly. Her body is ruined and numb in the aftermath of such a surge of sudden pleasure. The Mandalorian utters soft moans as he relaxes further into the bed, into her; sinking past her shaking limbs he drinks as if he had never had such a thing. Her breasts rise and fall in line with her heavy breathing, lips still reddened she gnaws on the bottom one, her mind still slack with pleasure.

She lets go of his hand to cart her fingers through his hair, he’s pushing himself up and onto her, wary of his beskar armour digging into her sensitive skin.

“Are you alright?” His bare hand slides over her face, lines her jaw and trails over her cheekbone. His fingertips graze over the blindfold. Would it really hurt to pull off the mask? To reveal himself to one who has just exposed her most intimate self? She lazily turns her head to stare at him, he imagines her without the blindfold, soft starlike eyes, he would kiss you in the middle of your forehead, feel your lashes flutter against his skin.

“I’m more than alright, Mando,” she’s pulling him close to capture his lips with her own, soft and gentle, she tastes herself on him and smiles. “We should use the blindfold more often.”

—

thanks for reading!

feedback is much appreciated, this is my first ever star wars fic (smutty or otherwise) and i wanna know how i did and if you want to read more!

[slashingdisneypasta]

Slender Brothers Headcanons

#1. Mating Season 

WARNINGS: Heavy content here. Slender’s and Offender’s of course talk about rape. Very violent and graphic rape and mention of necrophilia in Offender’s. Trender’s talks about prostitution? But not in a dark way, really. Splender’s describes some pain- for him. Pain for him. Its unfortunate ): The ‘If he had an S/O’ parts are pretty safe though 

Notes: 

Heed the warnings. If you don't, then I take no responsibility. 

Or... maybe these aren't as graphic as I think and I’m just a baby? Dunno, better safe then sorry though!!! 

If you are interested in this stuff, then enjoy! ^^ XD

~~~

Slenderman:

You thought he hid away before… but, man. During this time, no one knows where he is.

In truth, he’s hauled away in a bunker that he set up himself and upkeeps every year, all alone (For his benefit, because he haaaaates, hates, hates being out of control. Not for everyone else’s benefit, I want to make that clear.) and if it wasn’t for the constant, unattended, unquenched heat overwhelming him then he would be in total peace. I mean, here he’s underground (In the earth. His favourite thing) and he’s alone (This favourite thing ties with the earth).

That bunker ends up in teeerible shape after he’s been in there. He loses most of his control, and because his needs aren’t extinguished, he gets violent. He has a lot of pent up tension in every orifice and periodically he snaps. At the walls, at the chairs, at anything that’s a satisfying weight to throw, or break, or crush.

He never leaves the bunker though without repairing and replacing shit though so that when he comes back the next year, he doesn’t feel even worse.

Now, if Slender didn’t hide himself away… Look, Slender is not a good being. He controls himself because he genuinely enjoys controlling things and the most important thing to do is control yourself. But at this time, if he really actually tried, he would have like 0.10 percent control.

And… he wouldn’t feel any reservations about taking a mortal and using them to help himself, raping them. He would feel disgusted with himself later on, for sure, but that’s only because he lost his control. Not because of what he did to the mortal.

I think the only reason he doesn’t normally do this, is not because he’s in any way better, morally, then Offender. It’s because he generally doesn’t feel sexual desire that often. And when he does, he ignores it. He isn’t interested, like Offender is. So, don’t get it twisted, Slender is a selfish and rotten.

If he had an S/O:

If there is even the smallest chance that you won’t find out, he will take it.

Of course, that would be pretty hard to do seeing as the damn thing can last for up to a week (Although that is still very lucky, seeing as cats and dogs last a month or longer. I’ve decided the Slender’s are more like birds XD) and you will be puzzled when your cranky, hermit Slenderman disappears from his beloved home for that long.

Even after its over and he’s back, and you know something out of the ordinary happened, he still won’t tell you. Just very bluntly, so you know he knows you know somethings up but you also know he isn’t about to tell you, says “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”. The ass will even say “I was here the whole time Y/N, for goodness sakes. You must have missed me.”.  

HOW?

I beg to differ, Slendy.

Eventually one of the other brothers will tell you, and get a prompt smack from a stray black tentacle when he finds out. “Oh, my bad. Spasm.” He’ll say, totally deadpanned.

Now, if you decide you don’t want anything to do with it and to respect his decision to keep it from you, he’s happy to go on like normal with you. Whenever the season comes around, he’ll just tell you he’ll be away for a bit for his mating season. No drama! And no more secrets!

On the other hand, if you wanted to help…

Well, he would describe to you everything he feels during his mating season and exactly how strong these urges are, to scare you off. And e tells no lie, and it does sound terrifying.

But if you still want to after that, then fine. Next mating season, he concedes a test run. But he enlists Zalgo to stand by for a bit and if he hears non-pleasure noises, then to come in and take you away.

Slender’s a big fan of informed consent where you’re concerned.

Trenderman:

Trender does a lot of meditation and drinks a lot of calming herbal remedies at this time… and, also, jerks off a lot and is out picking up partners every night for wild one-night stands. He deals with it pretty healthily, actually, compared to the others! Haha

As song as he’s satisfied, everyone who is prospectively around him, will be safe. That’s his thinking, and it’s true.

Also, why treat the feeling like it’s a curse? It is an issue, but if you act like Frollo then you’ll just make it worse for yourself and more importantly, for everyone else.

He will even hire prostitutes if he has no luck picking anyone up himself. Don’t worry, he’s very good to them, and pays them well (Boy makes it a habit to even send them off with breakfast, or at least breakfast money if they don’t feel comfortable spending more time with him then what was professional). Like, from the prostitute’s point of view, he is the best customer. Favourite customer. Love him.

He doesn’t do any work with anyone, during this time. Just stays in at home all day meditating, drinking his tea’s and working on designs and outfits from the safety of his house (He does some of his best work during this time- they’ve been described as ‘Seductive’). If he absolutely has to contact someone, he will text them. Even the sound of someone’s voice might set him off, so he really avoids anything like phone calls and delivery people- he has his groceries dropped off at his front door while he’s out at night.

He wears headphones most of the time (Noise cancelling or music), blocking out anything possible from the outside world, and keeps the blinds closed and windows and doors locked.

If he had an S/O:

If you’re willing to help him out during the season, he’s jazzed. I mean, he was hoping you would XD

Let me tell you, you can satisfy him way quicker than anyone else that he could pick up or hire, so its not really an issue if you want to help him. You will be pretty tired after a night so I’d prescribe you maybe every second night if you’re up to it?? But you won’t be fatally tired or anything like Splender XD And you definitely wont be hurt, because honestly it doesn’t take much from you to finish him, because it’s you!

Theirs no poetic reason. It’s just, simply, because it’s you.

Kinks that he doesn’t mention before this suddenly come out to play… You will learn some new things about yourself, that’s for sure.

Offenderman (I’m saying it again because it’s very necessary. WARNING. Please read with caution):

This is… not an issue for him…

In fact, it affects him much, much less than the others. Offender is always horny, anyway. Its literally in his nature. So, he’s used to living with it.

His temperament does lose its bearings for the duration, though, which makes him even more dangerous then usual. Most of the time he doesn’t even play with his victims at all (Doesn’t tease or go even a modicum slower. Doesn’t care to look into their eyes to see the fear- which tends to be a big part of what he does. He gets off of their terror. But at this time he just seems mad, sloppy and impatient), just rapes them in an the back of an alleyway and leaves their corpses when he’s not getting anything out of it anymore, looking for a new one.

Usually, when it’s not mating season he’ll usually leave them alive, specifically so they have to deal with the trauma, but now the force he uses… breaks them. The force of his hips breaks their bones, the way he bites their neck leaves a gaping, jagged hole that blood escapes out of, he suffocates them to death or crushes their windpipe. Long before he’s done, they’re a corpse. Not that that bothers him. At all. As long as they’re tight, he can work with it.

Also, something about them being dead turns him on also, so…

The body count at night means that he’s fine during the day, except for a normal, gentle buzz of thirst but he can handle that just fine. It’s more like normal.

If it wasn’t for his general lack of care for mortal (Or any other) lives and cruelty he would be able to manage this season like any other time of the year. No one would get hurt and no one would realise he’s any different.

But, this is Offenderman.

If he had an S/O:

Offender is so much more in control. Like, literally, he can date you and have a normal life and everything. He doesn’t want to scare you away or, very much less, hurt you. If he can get away with it, he wont even mention a mating season.

But, if you were happy to help him out (Which, I realise now, may be hard for some of us to imagine after reading what I just wrote about him not 4 dot points ago… ), then he would lose his ever loving mind.

But not in a bad way like before was. Less violent and more… submissive. I guess. He’s still him, and he thinks he’s head honcho and everything (Second only to Slender) but he has absolutely zero issues with bottoming- theirs plenty of pleasure to source from that position.

Your touch and your warm, wet pinkness feel’s 10 times better to him (And he already loved it with his whole, black heart) in this condition. He’ll mule.

Splenderman:

This is ESPECIALLY hard for Splender. He feels everything 10 times stronger than any of his brothers, which is saying a lot because they’re all very passionate about their shit.

But Splender is the most so. (*Cough* Its because I like to believe kindness is a stronger urge then hatred, personal interest or even lust. This is also the reason I headcanon Splender as the oldest).

One year, soon after he reached adulthood and mating season actually kicked in, (The first time shocked him. He had no one to tell him this was about to happen, and it stole the wind from him. He nearly hurt someone when he tried to ignore it, which explains why this that I’m about to explain about, which is the second time, turned out so badly),he tried to haul himself away and do nothing. Not touch himself, not see anyone for help, not do anything.

It caused him to cease up completely. He was just sitting there for a full day, thinking about nothing but his physical need and his pain. First his cock went painfully stiff, then the rest of him, and when he finally tried to move it was agonising.

Ever since then he’s careful not to do that. For a long time he subscribed to Slender’s method of hiding and locking himself away until it’s over.

But, it was not until Trender became an adult and started dealing with his mating seasons that Splender’s eyes were opened up to a much safer and healthier management strategy.

Instead of fighting the season, just accept it. Take care of yourself Splendy, we worry for you.

Nowadays he spends most of his time treating his body the bets he can, in a remote area in some mountains in Switzerland. Beautiful nature to revitalise him, spring weather, clean fresh air… no one around for miles and miles to hear what he’s up to… Haha. Its half an half. Half of the time he spends eating healthily and relaxing in fields and rocky mountain areas, and the other half he masturbates.

A lot of the time actually he’s doing both at the same time. Jacking off outside in the fresh air.

If he had an S/O:

He’s surprised to hear that his mortal mate likes the idea of being… uh… used, essentially. For his personal gain.

“You think that’s okay, Y/N??”? He’s a bit sceptical.

“Yeah, Splender, as long as its you! I don’t mind helping- plus its kinda hot.”

Well, if you’re sure! Splender doesn’t try to tell you that you don’t know what you’re talking about or that you don’t know what you like in anyway.

He’s kind of excited now XD

He’s going to come up with a plan though to separate the two of you at some point so you can rest and revitalise because while he understands that you’re consenting to a lot and are genuinely interested, he also knows that during this time he can go for a looooot longer then you can, and he refuses to break you. “You can come back if you want once you’re not so tired!” He assures you, when you whine and say you can ‘handle it’.

ALL SLENDER’s:

Final thing.

Imagine having a vagina and being on your period at the same time that he’s enduring his mating season. 

[theluckyyyoneee]

Guise

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (ft. Namjoon)

Genre: Angst / Fluff (in later chapters)

Word Count: 5.19+k

part 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 

SoulmateAU! Where he hides his soulmate tattoo from everyone, especially you.

“Hmm?” You mumbled unintelligibly into the phone after being awoken by the hunk of metal ringing its default ringtone, which you almost mistook for an alarm but you remembered you hadn’t set one for today, plus it wasn’t even laundry or cleaning day. That was Sunday and today was a Thursday, or so you believed. And also the piercing sunlight that had you seeing a candy red beneath your eyelids, a grimace taking over your peaceful sleeping expression as you tiredly grasped and brought the phone to your ear. 

The questioning and amused tone you recognized as the brat who simultaneously managed to annoy you and grab hold of your reluctant endearment for known as Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook was only a few months older than you, but you were definitely the more mature of the two, or so it seemed like most of the time. “Are you still asleep?”

“What-... time is it?” It took a few moments to get those words out of your mouth, sounding like a slurring croaking frog, which you would normally become embarrassed by, but at this time moment in time you were too drowsy to feel any kind of self consciousness. 

His laugh created static on the other end of the receiver and your face scrunched up at the sound, and at the time Jungkook had informed you it currently was. Damn, it was late. Honestly, you were a bit surprised he could understand you, but after years of enduring these random and burdensome types of morning wake-up calls, you guessed he had adapted to comprehending your sleep induced mumblings. 

“Well, I was going to invite you to go get some food with me, but I didn’t know you would still be asleep at two in the afternoon.”

You sneered at the laughter in his voice and exhaled a breath as you gathered the strength to sit up from your lying down position. “Shut up. It’s summer.” Was your clever response to which he childishly mocked. “I’d be down to do something tomorrow, though.”

“Oh yeah, cool, that sounds good...” he agreed at once and stalled a bit on the other line, to which you took a glance at your phone to see if he had hung up, but he hadn’t. You placed your phone back on your ear just in time to hear him question in a shy and timid tone you had rarely heard from him, taking on that soft and gentle timbre he only used when he wanted a favor, “do you think you could ask Namjoon, too? To see if he would want to come?”

“...what?”

“...he’s cute.”

“Oh my gosh, you didn’t call me to ask me to hang out, you just wanted me to set up a blind date meeting with Namjoon!” You were wide awake now, sitting on your bed still wrapped in your blanket with a wide grin on your face, if you were to glance at yourself in a mirror, you would have seen a crazy woman with extreme bed hair wearing a wrinkled bed shirt with morning breath, grimacing as you reached for your half empty water bottle near your bed.

“Nu-uh!” He practically screamed into the phone and you couldn’t help but laugh at his obvious affection and attraction for the older man, glad you had yet to take a sip of the stale water. “It’s just-... well-you guys are always studying and being boring, and hey, it’s summer now! Time for you two to do something other than bury yourselves in books.”

“Yeah, right. You loser, why don’t you just message him yourself?”

“Oh yeah? And say what? ‘Hey I think you’re cute and y/n has told me how nice of a guy you are, do you want to maybe go out sometime?’”

You had your phone resting by your knee on speakerphone, your arms stretched above your head as you partook in your morning stretches you tried to do after waking up to alleviate your sore muscles from sleeping for more than nine hours a night. 

You laughed in reply to his obvious fib. “That sounds perfect, do it.”

“No,” he whined cutely. “I’m too shy.”

“I don’t believe that, remember that one time-”

“That was different.” He cut you off abruptly, knowing exactly what incident you were referring to. 

“How?” You were really curious as to how this was different than that one time you and Jungkook had been out getting some food for takeout, which was basically all you two really did other than play games, when you had noticed this cute ass guy giving him the eyes. So confident Jungkook leaves you to seductively saunter over to him to get his number. 

Jungkook, reliving the same encounter as you were, sighed on the other end. “Namjoon just sounds so nice, I mean... I know I haven’t even met him in person yet but he just makes me so nervous. Every time I see a picture of him,” he paused to utter yet another sigh, and you silently cooed at how lovesick he seemed. “He’s just so cute, and I don’t know, something inside of me just stirs... And-and what if I ask him out and he says no and then I make things awkward for you two?”

“Why would it be awkward? It’s none of my business if you guys start seeing each other or not.” By his silence, you could tell he was mulling over your words. Grinning a bit wider, you tried to encourage him a bit more, “Plus I doubt he’d say no, have you seen you? Never mind, of course you had, with your big head.”

An offended noise sounded and you cackled, happy you were in the safe confines of your enclosed room, and guessing by the time, you guessed your roommate was off at work.

“Plus, he’s not seeing anyone right now, he would’ve told me. And I personally believe that you two would make a really cute couple.”

“Whatever! I’m done talking about this! Just ask him and tell me so I know whether to dress up and fix up the apartment or if I can just bum it out like usual. Bye~”

Rolling your eyes, you finally climbed out of the bed and began fixing up some breakfast, or a late lunch considering it was nearing two-thirty, after using the restroom. You would take a shower later and freshen up, but you were so hungry, you didn’t think eating could wait. 

Jungkook had a bit of a thing for Namjoon ever since you had posted a picture of the two of you at a cafe and not ten minutes you received a message asking: who is he?

You didn’t really take him all that serious, thinking that it was a momentary attraction and that he would forget all about him, but as you began to spend more time with Namjoon, he would continually ask and have questions about the older man, yet denying any offers to the cafes and casual meet-ups, though now you guessed he had finally mustered up enough courage to finally meet the man he has been thirsting over the course of a few months. He had been sure though, before he even thought of starting something with Namjoon that you didn’t have any feelings other than platonic friendship for the man, otherwise he would’ve backed off in an instant no matter how much he found himself drawn to him.

You could understand his captivation with the lovable giant you had the honor of being best friends with, and no doubt whoever he ended up with would be the luckiest person in the world. They would be able to wake up next to the most considerate and gentle, slightly dorky, sweetest man you have ever known, and not to mention that he was very easy on the eyes, which wasn’t everything, but sealed the deal for many. 

If he wasn’t your best friend with that unbreakable bond and didn’t have that brother-sister relationship, you were one hundred percent sure you’d be completely head over heels for the man. 

You frowned to yourself over your bagel as you were reminded of the dream Jungkook had woken you from. It came back in vivid and quickly vanishing fragments, your memory failing you, but you were sure it was of Yoongi.

“It looks fine, Kook,” you sighed for the nth time, reaching a hand out to stop his incessant pacing and minuscule rearranging of furniture. “What you should worry about is him finding your apartment since you said you needed me here, but you don’t know how clumsy and how he has no sense of direction whatsoever.” Your arms were crossed as you wore a smirk on your lips at the nervous but handsome man, occasionally shaking the auburn strands that slid into his eyesight. You checked your phone once in a while as the time for the meet-up gradually grew closer.

You hadn’t seen his apartment this clean since the surprise visit his parents dropped on him and he had called you in a frenzy to help clean up all the dinnerware and laundry he had accumulated over the first few months of living there. Out of the goodness of your heart, you had agreed and were met with a sight that haunted your worst nightmares ever since. How he made that much of a mess in that little time, you would never understand, just the thought of having to go through that once again made you shudder. 

Snacks had been assorted in a neat way along the coffee table, it smelled of clean laundry detergent and it was at a comfortable temperature. 

“Well, I was nervous...” he mumbled cutely into his chest, fixing the loose flannel button up shirt he wore over a plain black shirt, looking effortlessly alluring, but you knew just how much time and anxiety went into choosing it.

“Was?” You could help but tease with a knowing expression he was purposely avoiding noticing.

“Okay, okay, I’m still nervous.” He rolled his eyes at his confession and shook his head, finally taking a moment to just calm down. “I don’t know why though, I guess I just want to make a good first impression.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes as you waved his anxieties off. “You will, I basically talk about you all the time.”

“Oh yeah? What do you say about me?”

“Just that you’re a brat who spends all his time either at the gym, or at home playing video games.” You stuck your tongue out when his mouth dropped open at your words, both of you knowing full well you were just fibbing. Phone vibrating in your hand, you read a message from Namjoon that said he thought he found the right complex but wasn’t sure.

Smiling, you informed Jungkook you were going to bring Namjoon in, closing the door behind you and making your way carefully down a single flight of stairs and out the front door, you noted with a grimace at how humid and muggy it was outside compared to how cool it was inside the apartment, thankful Jungkook had well functioning air conditioner.

You were dressed very comfortably, this was not your first time meeting either men so you had no reason to be nervous like Jungkook, just in some light shorts and a t-shirt. You saw Namjoon leaning against the drivers seat of his car, looking a bit more stylish than how you were expecting him to come dressed, which threw you off a bit, you weren’t going to lie. You had told him when he agreed to come hang out that it would be very casual, and those form fitting faded blue jeans were the complete opposite of his favorite pair of sweatpants you had seen him wear on a regular basis. 

Maybe he wanted to make a good impression on Jungkook as well? You smiled to yourself, thinking how cute they would be if they ever decided to form a relationship together that was more than just acquaintances or friends. They had both had girlfriends and boyfriends in the past, but you knew for sure that they were currently both single. Even though you teased Jungkook to the max, you would never push either man into pursuing a relationship like that on them, you’d let them figure it out on their own, because even though they were your closest friends, it wasn’t up to you to meddle in someone’s love life. 

Lord knows yours was complicated and revelations you didn’t want to get into, you sure weren’t going to stress yourself out even further by butting in where you didn’t belong.

“Hey, you found it! I was scared that you’d get lost.” You greeted him jokingly as you jogged to where Namjoon stood, using his foot to push himself off his car to meet you halfway, a familiar wide smile that made his prominent dimples appear graced his features.

He chuckled in a rich timbre as you two exchanged an embrace, which you almost always greeted each other with whenever you met up, it had become almost second nature by now. It was a bit too warm outside for your comfort and sharing body heat like this was not really necessary, and you two released each other and smiled at each other. 

“I know, I was scared I was going to end up at a dead end, I drove real slow to make sure I was following the gps correctly.” 

Laughing and shaking your head at him, you told him as you pointed, “Jungkook’s apartment is right up there, come on. He’s really excited about finally meeting you.”

Keeping your gaze on him as you lead the way, you gauged his reaction to your words and wasn’t the least bit surprised at the smile that lit his face. “I’ve been wanting to meet him, too. Especially since you mention him all the time.”

Sticking your tongue out at him, you opened the front door to the complex and sighed in relief at the cool air hitting your warm skin. “But, um...” Namjoon suddenly added, sounding more nervous than before and you paused and looked at him quizzically. “I do have something I wanna talk to you about later on.” He had one hand behind his head, rubbing the back of his neck that you easily recognized as his nervous habit he picked up a little over a year ago. Your brows furrowed as you watched him shuffle on his feet as he awaited your answer, biting the flesh of his lower lip. 

You wanted to push him on what it pertained to, but you receded, sensing that it was a bit more serious than just meeting a friend of a friend, but not urgent enough that it had to be attended to right away. “Sure.” You nodded and smiled warmly at him, reaching a hand up and patting him on the shoulder and noted with relief as he grinned warmly right back at you, becoming his confident self again. You urged him to take the lead, pointing to a door you could easily view from the stairs you two were climbing. “It’s number thirteen. The door should be unlocked, but you can just knock if you want.”

“Yeah, I’ll knock, it’s more polite, especially since I’m meeting him for the first time.” He replied easily, passing you, a blur of dark ink catching your eye as he strode past. His own soulmate tattoo, of course you had seen it numerous times, a unique design of letters overlapped, twisted around each other in an aesthetically pleasing way, located in the hidden region behind his ear, fitting in the tight space just before where his hair started. 

Still following, now at a bit of a slower pace, the design burned brightly in your mind that was experiencing a strange feeling of deja vu. Now that you got a better look at it than you usually did, due to the close proximity you two maintained on the narrow staircase, it seemed so frustratingly familiar, and not just because you had seen it on him. 

You had definitely seen it somewhere else. 

Where else have you seen that design? Think, y/n, think.

Still preoccupied in your own musings, you arrived at Jungkook’s apartment door a few seconds after Namjoon had, waiting for him to open the door since he had already knocked quietly to state your arrival.

It was instantaneous as the door flung open, your heart suddenly spiking in your chest, as you watched with unwavering eyes the scene that was about to transpire. You took your eyes off once, but only to glance once again at the ink behind Namjoon’s ear to make sure what you thought was indeed true.

Your eyes met Jungkook’s eager ones, the same ones that gazed at you as he would ramble on and on about what he thought his soulmate would be like. Unlike you, Jungkook was pure and hopeful when it came to the concept of two souls being connected forever by the ink on your skin. You always listened with a small smile, his authenticity bringing a smile on your face as you just nodded along, not having the heart to alter and stain his thoughts with your negative ones, instead eyeing his tattoo with interest, wondering who indeed, could ever deserve him. 

And of course, as you understood now, it was the exact design, it was in the exact same placement; behind the ear, fitting in the tight space just before where his hair started.

The realization that Jungkook and Namjoon were soulmates, and that they were about to see each other for the very first time. 

You couldn’t help but think back to the first time you had met Yoongi. That first glance had left you suspended, motionless, and you had no control of that, the universe telling you to just enjoy the revelation. You remembered being completely enamored and captivated by the pale beauty, your heart thundering in your chest as it was now, but now it was from your epiphany, not fatal attraction. 

Breath getting caught in your throat, you watched as they stood in front of each other, your ears catching the quiet inhales, the slight tensing of the body as they continued to stare at each other for a prolonged moment, their smiles ceasing to fade, seeming to forget your entire existence. 

Feeling like you were intruding on an extremely private and intimate moment, you forced yourself to look away, taking a small step away and tried calming your thundering heart that seemed to want to escape the confines of your chest. 

Hearing them dreamily and pleasantly exchange names, you felt a small smile tug the corners of your lips up, noting internally how love struck and awed they already sounded.

Out of your peripheral vision, you saw their arms reach out to each other, obviously going for a handshake, and you couldn’t help but watch out of the corner of your eye. Having experienced it first hand; the shock, the warm electricity that would inevitably wrap around them as the effect of the first physical contact made, you could only stand frozen there in anticipation as their hands neared closer and closer for an innocent handshake.

Palms connecting, held in each other’s warm grasp and another intake of breath sounded, this time it was more noticeable and the smile you wore grew even wider in response to seeing Jungkook’s smile grow in front of you. “Are... Are we...?” Of course, he had all the right to ask and assume, it was not everyday and everyone you met someone who your body and soul reacted so strongly and deeply towards. 

Jungkook’s dark eyes fluttered around Namjoon’s frame before seeming to remember they shared the same placement. Jungkook released his hold on Namjoon’s hand to reach for his right ear, turning his head as he showed his tattoo, his bunny smile still very much present as he eagerly placed hands on Namjoon’s shoulders and leaned forward to see for himself for the matching ink.

The soulmate bond was something you could no longer deny or ignore. You knew first hand the pull you felt towards the other person, the strong emotions that swallowed you whole. 

Relief and happiness filled you as you realized that Jungkook was going to end up with someone who deserved him, that was something that you had always worried about. But now, knowing that it was Namjoon, you felt you could rest easy. Namjoon wasn’t Yoongi, he wasn’t an asshole, he was an honest, kind, dependable man-

Namjoon staggered back a few unsteady feet and you responsively shot your hands out to secure his footing, the smiling previously adorning your face slowly slipping with each passing second at his reaction. He flinched back from your touch like you had scolded him with hot coal, only his labored breathing sounded as his wide brown eyes jumped from you to Jungkook before muttering a shaky, “I’m... I’m sorry.” before sprinting in the direction you just came from.

“Wait!” Jungkook called out from beside you, a gust of wind whirled around you at the sudden speed he ran behind him, the sound of footsteps hitting the pavement echoing loudly in your head. “Wait!”

You could only gape wordlessly from your spot as you heard rather than see him chasing Namjoon as he quickly made his escape, Jungkook’s piercing voice ringing through your head. 

You spent the remainder of your night consoling a devastated Jungkook, your heart clenching painfully as he blamed himself over and over again, no matter how many times you interrupted that destructive train of thought.

Turns out, Namjoon was quite the hidden track star as he made it to his car and peeled from the parking lot even before Jungkook got completely down the flight of stairs.

“Why would he run away from me like that?” He hiccuped, his large frame clinging to yours as you ran a hand soothingly through his hair, coddling him like an infant.

You took a deep breath as you brought him closer, offering more of your warmth which he appreciated, snuggling in closer to you, feeling his tense form gradually go lax as his eyes drifted shut, slipping into what you could only guess would be a restless sleep.

You shifted out slowly from underneath him, placing one of the extra pillows under his head and going into the closet where he kept his extra blankets and draping it over him. 

Watching his sleeping form fidget from his position on the couch, you felt yourself becoming worked up. 

What was Namjoon’s deal?

Maybe him and Yoongi weren’t so different after all. Your heart hurting for Jungkook, you prayed and hoped Namjoon wouldn’t reject him and that he was going to talk to you, whether he wanted to or not. 

Staring blankly in front of you, your arms crossed in a defensive manner, the sound of distant conversations and silverware clinking echoing in the semi-busy cafe you two often frequented together was all you heard, your usually order of vanilla iced mocha sitting in front of you untouched on the table in front of you, forming a puddle of water around the bottom of the cup on the wood as the ice slowly melted in your drink.

Your first choice was to meet in a private setting, but he had wisely chosen a public space, knowing you did not have the guts nor conscience to scream your lungs out at him as you so badly wanted to in front of throngs of innocent bystanders that had just wanted to have a nice lunch.

It had taken some threatening coaxing, about twenty missed calls from you, then you had pounded on his door and demanded you two talk, and you had never seen him so afraid than at that moment. You had never really gotten upset with him before, so this behavior was obviously a change for him, but what did he think after running out on one of your closest friends like that?

“So... I, uh, guess I have some explaining to do.” His own drink had about two sips left, due to his nervous gulping down of the cold beverage as he sat in front of you. He tried to smile but it came out more as a grimace as he tried to break the tension.

You raised an eyebrow as you offered no change in your expression, urging him to continue, or start, his explanation.

He blinked a few times as he took in a deep breath before straightening up in his chair, placing his elbows on the table as he leaned his upper body a bit more closely to you as to not have to talk so loud. “I’ve never really thought about my soulmate before, I always believed that it just a hoax.”

His earlier words came rushing to you as you remembered what he said when you had asked him about soulmates.

“I don’t really have an opinion on it. I’ll worry about it when it happens.”

“I get it now. I get it completely, experiencing it for myself instead of just reading it in textbooks or having people relay their own experiences to me made me realize just how wrong I was.”

He hung his head and your anger ebbed a bit at seeing how exhausted and guilty he seemed. You could understand what he was saying, you had thought the exact same thing, had your whole world shift upside down at meeting that one person. 

“But I... I had feelings for someone else already.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. You hadn’t known that, your sympathy growing even more at his words. Surely he wanted to make his own story, just like you wanted. 

“I liked them so much, they were all I thought about when I wasn’t busy cramming for tests and midterms. We were very compatible and it was really easy being by their side. I really thought that there could be nobody in the universe more suited for me than her. Or so I thought.”

You remained silent as he told you his monologue, talking to himself more right now than he was to you. 

“But now, after meeting him, I realize how wrong I was once again. It’s like the romantic aspect I felt for them just went away. It’s really fucking weird. So when those feelings just went away... I was overwhelmed, I was confused, I was angry... and I know it wasn’t the right thing to do at all and it’s a terrible excuse but believe me, y/n, I feel horrible for running out like that.” He gazed at you with a tortured expression and you had to avert your stare, not being able to handle seeing the carefree Namjoon look so dejected and ashamed. “I can still hear him screaming after me, I couldn’t sleep at all last night.”

“Neither could Jungkook.” You spoke up, relaxing your arms from their crossed position on your chest to mimic his posture, hard expression softening up a bit as you admitted, “you know he cried himself to sleep last night, asking why you ran away and that something had to be wrong with him that you wouldn’t want him.”

He cringed at your words and mumbled, “All I want right now is to make things right with Jungkook, and to hold him and-” he broke off with a sudden clearing of his throat as an embarrassed expression broke out on his face. It was like had finally realized that you were here also. 

“Well, you should. Make it right. I can’t stand seeing him hurting, he’s like family to me, like a brother.” You pouted, wondering at how it would go from here on out. 

“I will. I’ll apologize and explain everything, and grovel for however long it takes for him to forgive me.”

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head as a smile crept on your lips. “Knowing him and how crazy he is over you, he won’t even last five minutes with you there with him.”

His eyes grew wide and you laughed at his shocked face, a pleasant feeling growing in you as you noted the blush rising from his neck all the way to the tips of his ears. “He’s crazy about me?”

Shrugging, you finally picked your watered down beverage and took a sip, the cool liquid soothing your throat. 

Trying to calm himself down, he told you much more seriously, “You should try with him, too.”

“Who?”

“Yoongi.”

“Wha-” you rushed to ask and the coffee went down the wrong tube and you were suddenly coughing out a lung, the customers around you jumping up in their seats in alarm and watched as you struggled to breathe correctly, glaring at Namjoon who was trying his best to keep his composure. “How do you know about him?”

“We’re sort of friends, remember?” He sassily remarked and you shot him a death glare that had him straightening once again. “It just came up.” Was all he chose to say, leaving you unbelievably frustrated. 

You had let Namjoon go after chatting a bit more, knowing that he was restless to make things up with Jungkook and he all but jumped in his car and will most likely get a few speeding tickets to his way to his apartment, and you didn’t say anything, letting them sort it out themselves.

You were roaming the streets, in a bit of a daze at Namjoon’s words. 

“You should try with him, too.”

Your dreams were filled with the pale, dark haired beauty, wondering even if you did want to try with him, were you going to be able to let down your walls that you’ve spent years and years building up to let him in?

Would he even want to try with you?

Doubts and second thoughts filled your thoughts and made your mood even crappier than it already was this morning.

It was summer vacation, for goodness sake. At least during the school year, you could catch a quick and unfulfilling glance at him, where were you supposed to find him now?

You were waiting at a stoplight, waiting to cross the street, watching the cars zoom past and saw that it was starting to finally dwindle down. Getting ready to cross the street, you froze in your stance, not believing your eyes.

Maybe it really was fate, maybe you two were supposed to somehow work out.

Because right across the street, was Min Yoongi staring back at you with mirrored wide eyes and a look of surprise on his face. 

The animated person lit up underneath the red hand that went black and you wasted no time, running with all your might and flung yourself into his arms. 

He smelled of detergent and sunscreen, a scent that made you smile into the soft fabric of his loose t-shirt, his rigid frame relaxed and his arms wrapped protectively around your frame.

“I missed you.”

once again, sorry for the wait it’s been a bit hectic at work! but as always ty to everyone who reads this story and i welcome and love any and all feedback it really makes my day a 1000x better! if u would like to be added to the taglist, just request down below or shoot me a message! <33

tag list: @hoodiebangtan @xanny91 @babeejeon @chocolatemilk1221 @fuckthatfeeling @cremextart @secretlypg95 @proudslytherin39 @paracii @tragicrosemoons @sunshinein17 @xxluckydreamsxx @skzleaf @lidda @thesugatoyourtae @marycarabell @pawschimchim @namjoonsslutakakoreanmanswhore @crackhead1-800 @annoyingpessimist @moccahobi @sana-b 

[alice-in-wonderart]

hiii, do you write for xue yang? if yes, could you do some poly!xuexiao headcanons or scenario? whatever its easier to you! maybe with a little angst since xue yang is a hard person. even if you say no, thank you so much for your attention and for your writing, I love what you do 💞

UWU, you made my entire week, thank you so muchhh ❤️❤️❤️ you warmed my heart! Of course, I write for best boy XY~ Honestly, I write for nearly all characters. I picked headcanons, because there is- a LOT to talk about when it comes to poly XueYao and your girl is living for that adventure! I tried making it as angsty as possible, but my THIRST for a happy ending is so strong- I apologise for the delay in answering (life decided to life a bit more these past few days) and I hope you enjoy my take on the relationship~

P.S I might have gone a tad overboard-

I'm changing the canon quite a bit, because XueXiao need happiness and you are that happiness. XXC doesn't know Xue Yang's name until they meet post-blindness, Song Lan doesn't appear until MUCH later and ofc you're there lol.

You know that trope of the angel and the devil on your shoulder? That's your relationship with Xue Yang and Xiao Xingchen in short.

It all started when you met Xiao Xingchen during one of his many travels. He was so kind and sweet, understanding and compassionate. You were very fond of his company. Likewise, you didn't underestimate him, you listened to him, you were intelligent, funny, caring, responsible and he quickly found himself drawn to you.

So, it was no surprise when he expressed a certain interest in you. And it was even less of a surprise when you returned his feelings. And life was great.

But then, Xue Yang came into the picture and hit both of you in the hearts like Cupid's arrow. Discovering him on the side of the road was both the best and worst thing that had ever happened to you.

At first, both of you denied your attraction to him, but with every passing day, it grew more and more. The three of you'd spend nearly every second of the day together. The boy was handsome, funny and had a certain aura of...danger to him - one you found to be very charming in it's own way. Xiao Xingchen, too, had a growing fondness for Xue Yang's quick wit and rough play.

Nobody really suggested a poly relationship, it just kind of happened. One day you just grabbed both of their hands and they went with it.

Now, the dynamic between the two of them is much too entertaining. XXC is much more careful and caring, worrying and doting over both you and XY, showering both of you in love and affection. Xue Yang, on the other hand, is much more rough, mischievous and daring. They are the epitome of "good cop bad cop."

It is the most noticeable when you want to do something more dangerous or risky, be it joining a night hunt or anything else that could potentially end with you getting hurt. The response is always Xue Yang's immediate "Hell yes. Count me in" vs Xiao Xingchen's "No wait, what if you get hurt, just be careful."

While Xiao Xingchen is all sweet caresses, gentle hugs and forehead kisses, Xue Yang much prefers hidden inappropriate touches, especially in public, bites and playful smacks. He could endure a bit of scolding from Xiao Xingchen.

They wouldn't necessarily fight over you, but Xue Yang is much more needy when it comes to affection and it shows. God forbid it's just you and Xiao Xingchen without him. He'd be quick to join in, seemingly casually butting into the conversation, but you'd know better. He's lacked affection as a child and you know it, so his touch-starved nature is far from surprising.

Sharing a bed is an adventure. One sleeps unmoving, barely breathing, like a corpse, while the other - kicks and turns. Not a lot, but enough to be noticeable. Xiao Xingchen is the one who is turns, surprisingly. And of course, you're sandwiched in the middle of it all. Let me tell you, it's all fun and games, until summer rolls around. Sharing a bed in winter is a blessing, but the scorching heat of the summer days has made for some pretty interesting solutions. But nobody refuses to sleep away from the other two. You just HAVE to be bundled up together.

Xue Yang, despite being the self-proclaimed scoundrel of the relationship, is actually the most overly protective of the three of you. Underneath that seemingly devil-may-care attitude of his is a ticking time bomb of emotions ready to explode whenever somebody dares to so much as look at either you or XXC the wrong way.

"So what if he's blind! It's a blessing he doesn't have to witness your ugly damn face."

"Touch her. I dare you. I may not have a pinky, but you won't have a- " cue both of you dragging him far far far away from the situation.

But with life, as life goes, things are never black or white. And amidst the genuine love you three had for each other, trouble was bound to arise eventually.

Xue Yang never truly changed. How could he? The damage was already done. He may have found life with you and Xiao Xingchen to be pleasantly mundane and calm, but something kept weighing him down. And he decided, that it must have been Xiao Xingchen himself - the walking reminder of his past pain and his thirst for vengeance.

Imagine waking up one night, only to see Xue Yang standing next to the bed, staring at Xiao Xingchen holding... something in hand. It was too dark to tell. Upon noticing you're awake, he quickly turns around and leaves the room. And after a few long minutes, you feel the bed bext to you dip down with his weight. "Sleep." he'd mumble, before wrapping an arm around your waist. But somehow - it felt different.

And somehow you get that gut feeling, that perhaps you shouldn't leave Xiao Xingchen alone with Xue Yang. Perhaps you should be there at all times. Perhaps you were just imagining things, but you could swear something was rather off with your dear lover.

And then a fight happened. Now fighting was far from unusual, but this one escalated. It was over something minor, yet Xue Yang was much too hostile. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes - something you were used to, but this time your subconsciousness was screaming for you to run.

"It was you wasn't it?" Xiao Xingchen's gentle-as-ever voice rang, cutting through the unbearable tension, "Baixue Temple, Yueyang Chang Sect, it was you wasn't it, Xue Yang?"

And Xue Yang would just laugh and laugh. "I am glad you didn't forget me, dear Daozhang." And through a wicked smile, he'd tell his story of the missing pinky, sparing none of the gruesome details. And you'd realize, that all this time you'd been sharing your bed, your food...your love and relationship with a madman.

But that didn't make you want him any less. Not after so much time together. Not after falling in love. The situation was much more dire for Xiao Xingchen. He'd fallen utterly in love with the one who'd-

Yet he loved him so much. You loved him so much. And God, did it hurt, because through that fake smile of his, Xue Yang was fighting with himself. He didn't want his heaven to disappear. You - his wonderful candy, and his precious Daozhang were the cure for boredom he'd needed, the compassion he'd seeked for as a child, the understanding and caring he longed for.

And he wasn't ready to let go.

He'd try to attack, but it would be futile. Deep down Xue Yang knew, that he didn't want to hurt either of you. You never looked down on him, you never took advantage of him, you never stopped caring. And when Xiao Xingchen moved in front of you to protect you, yet took away his sword, instead opening his arms, Xue Yang realised, that perhaps for the very first (and only) time - violence and death weren't the only paths to walk on.

And perhaps, with time he'd learn how to properly love. And both Xiao Xingchen and you would be by his side, leading him and showing him what love is.

Perhaps, this relationship was worth fighting for.

[darkwritingsnshit]

Unwanted Attention

Warnings: This is a dark fic, please  don’t read if you’re under 18, or are uncomfortable with dark characters, kidnapping, drug mention, noncon, asshole characters.

You were sick of this, sick of working with Loki; he was a trickster and a liar who entertained himself at other’s expense. You agreed to one mission with Thor, Rocket and Groot that went sideways, and you were joined my Thor’s mischievous brother that now you couldn’t seem to get rid of him.

Eager to get back to the stars, you decided to go on the next mission with Thor and Rocket. Unbeknownst to you, the Liar in Chief decided to tag along, something you didn’t realize until you were putting your things away in your narrow sleeping quarters. When you turned around in the closet sized room, you found a tall black-haired man blocking your doorway.

“I’d say something about how cozy your room is, but it’s downright claustrophobic my dear,” Loki smirked.

“Not like I’ll be spending much time here, you need to move, I have things to do.” The god’s presence irked you. You didn’t trust him at all, and in truth you saw him only as a snake in the grass.

“That’s not very polite, did you leave your manners back on earth?” Loki still didn’t move, just cocked his head, eyes shining.

“Look,” you started, “I don’t trust you and I’m not sure why you of all people in the universe would want to tag along on a resupply mission. I need to do my job without anyone getting in the way, got that?” You weren’t combative, just firm and already tired of Loki’s distractions.

“Well I certainly wouldn’t want to get in the way of your responsibilities, would I?” He stepped back and made a sweeping gesture with his arm, bowing his head. You just rolled your eyes and strode past him, making your way to the bridge to see what you could do to help.

  It had been a week hurtling through space in a small ship towards coordinates Carol had sent Rocket so you could drop off medical supplies and rations for a war-torn planet. Thor, Rocket and Groot were good company to keep, though Loki would continue to tag around your periphery and disappear when you turned to take a better look.

“You kids ready back there? Its gonna be a bumpy landing!” Rocket yelled into the back of the ship where you were strapping down for impact.

You were ready for the landing, going over the schematics of the loading dock in your mind. The mission was simple enough; deliver medical supplies and food via the loading dock, then place and blow charges on a dam holding the water back from the planet’s citizens. Carol was fighting the larger battles that Thor seemed eager to join, but needed help running supplies to starving bystanders of interplanetary war.

The touchdown wasn’t nearly as bad as some of the landings you’d been through, and you were able to hurry off the ship to get the manifest sorted out with the docking manager. Standing back, you watched as supplies were offloaded from the ship, Thor and Groot conversing with a local who would point you to the dam, and Rocket yelling at people for touching his ship. Missing was Loki, but you figured he didn’t want to help out, and didn’t care enough to look for him.

Finding the large dam that was holding back the drinking water from thirsting citizens was easy to find. The creek beds the locals showed you to were almost imperceivable in the cracked earth, and the three of you followed them up until a looming wall came across the horizon.

“I am Groot,” Groot grunted as he craned his head back to look at the size of the damn thing. The walls seemed to be made of a rough, black rock and it was hard to tell how thick they were. It stretched across a wide gorge, making the Hoover Dam look dwarflike in comparison.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself, my friend,” Thor echoed his sentiments, and you didn’t need a translator to understand. “What’s the security situation?” Thor turned to you; eyebrow raised.

You raised your arm, pointing to the top of the dam where there were floodlights and armed guards that were dots in the dim light.

“A dozen armed guards on the top, and two large guns there, and there,” you pointed at the far ends of the dam, where the side of the gorge met the black stone. “Floodlights make a pass every 10 minutes, and there’s a motion security sensor around the perimeter.”

From where the three of you were, you could see the looming dam, and hear the river rumbling like a jet engine below. Looking down into the darkness of the gorge you shouted to be heard.

“Our entry point is the river! Down there!” You took a step towards the edge and readied yourself for the climb down.

It turned out that it was nice to have Thor with you while climbing down into the dark. When it was hard to see, he simply lit up his fingertips to light the way. You thought it was hilarious. It took around half an hour to make it to the entry point, and you were thoroughly soaked and had cramped muscles.

“All right, Thor, Groot, you set the charges up the sides of the dam. I’ll cover the base charges, I’m not climbing shit. You should have eight and a half minutes before the next floodlight sweep, think you can pull it off?” You held out explosives to the two of them that they readily took.

“I am Groot.” Groot replied, which Thor met with a laugh.

“Don’t worry, I promise that we won’t let you down. We will see you shortly.” With a smile, Thor began to scale the side of the dam, while Groot took off sprinting in the other direction.

It was a wider dam than you had thought, you hoped to have enough explosives to bring it all the way down. If it wasn’t enough to level the place, it would at least be enough to cause almost irreparable damage. You radioed Rocket your position before you set off to lay the explosives, but he didn’t respond over the channel.

“Rocket come in, we’re about to secure the package.” You were met with static. “Rocket? Rocket stop yelling at people over bullshit and come in, you need to be ready to go!” You huffed an impatient sigh, bouncing between one foot and the other. Rocket knew the timeline, and he knew where you would be… Thor and Groot were already off, it was down to the minutes here.

“Rocket, I’m securing the package. Be ready for a quick departure, over.” You clipped your radio and set off sprinting to place your charges.

One you set to go at the base of a concrete pillar supporting the left side of the dam, the middle was your next target.

   Something was wrong, you heard it before you saw the lights. Sirens blared before floodlights began to sweep the walls of the dam. Shit, something was wrong. By your calculations, the three of you had another five minutes to set and go before the next floodlight search. Three airships with lights and manned guns hovered over like low, ominous clouds.

“Stop your activity, you are surrounded!” Came a voice from loudspeakers. “Cease all movement or we will open fire!”

Fuck. You were fucked. Maybe Thor could fight his way out of this, Groot may be able to slip off into the landscape surrounding the chaos, but you were well and truly fucked. You saw lightning flash above you and saw one of the aircrafts going down. Your smile was short lived as flashlights blinded you, a squadron of well-armed men marching towards you, weapons drawn.

Flashlights made it impossible to see the faces of the men who handcuffed you and took you by the arms, marching you back the way you’d come. There was an open aircraft that you were directed into flanked by soldiers, though it was still hard to see in the dark as you took off. You didn’t need to see his face to recognize the honeyed voice that you never truly trusted.

“I’m so glad you made it back in one piece, love.” Sensing him somewhere behind your right shoulder, you stepped back and tried to shove backward with your body weight. Hands met your shoulder and you were prevented from pushing back; Loki was stronger than he seemed.

“What have you done?” You hissed at him. Light was returning to the aircraft as you neared the dock you had left the supplies at. People were running around below you, pushing crates, yelling at each other, flashing money to get a job done faster. “Loki, those aren’t our people! What the hell did you do?” You turned to look at him, the lights flashing through the craft making eerie shadows across his face.

“Darling, there are people willing to pay for these supplies, and pay good money. You didn’t think I’d really be interested in some humanitarian mission? Please.” He rolled his eyes and he pushed you forward as the ship landed.

Shoved back onto the loading dock, you looked for anything that may help you out of your situation. A screwdriver, a knife, something to get your hands free and you could work something out. Scanning the docking bays, you saw strange men on Rocket’s ship, and an angry raccoon nowhere to be found.

Surrounded by a squadron of men with guns, you were ushered to the side while Loki and a few other men stood together and had what looked like a serious discussion. You needed something to get out of here. There was a pistol strapped to the hip of each man surrounding you, but you were more interested in the knife tucked into their left boots. If you were going to do something this stupid and risky, you had better be quick about it.

Grasping your stomach in pain, you doubled over to the ground while those around you looked concerned.

“You there, what’s wrong with you?” a man at the front barked in your direction.

“I’m fine, I’m sorry I’m just hurt.” You stood again, tucking a knife into your sleeve. Time seemed to be on your side as Loki spoke and lightning flashed across the sky. When you finally were able to slip loose of the handcuffs, you kept them in position so as not to give away your escape. You waited until everyone speaking with Loki had raised their voices before ducking low, grabbing a pistol and running for the bays.

You weaved between the pillars and ship parts in the landing bay, angry that your own footsteps were slapping so loudly against the stone floor. You could hear them behind you shouting and getting closer. Blindly you shot behind your shoulder and heard a thud. You let out a sharp laugh but dodged too late sidestepping a pillar. Stone smashing into your shoulder, you were wheeled around by 90 degrees by a hand on your upper arm tightening painfully.

“Did you think I was going to let you run away, after everything I’ve done for you today girl?” He had pulled you close to him, anger radiating off his body. Thinking fast, you jammed your foot down into his knee as hard as you could, slipping from his grip, buying yourself an extra second.

Raising your arm, you fired the pistol to have it wrenched from your grip by a stronger hand. You dropped the gun and made a sweeping motion with the last thing you had, the knife. You weren’t sure if it was amusement or anger that flashed across his face, but Loki eyed your knife with a glint in his eye.

“Don’t start games you can’t finish,” he warned you with a cocked head.

There was a clap of thunder and a shriek of lightning that lit up the bay, setting fire to a nearby craft. Taking advantage, you stepped forward to get a clear shot of Loki’s kidneys, hoping to pull the blade around and do some damage.

Try as you might, he was faster than you, catching your hand and twisting it painfully until you shrieked, and the knife clattered to the ground.

“You should have stopped trying to fight me while it was still cute,” he snarled. He twisted your body around and pulled a syringe from his pocket. Loki dug the needle into your skin, searing hot as he pushed down. “Now I just have to make an example out of you.”

[og-danny-dorito]

『 Man In Red 』

{   A/N:

    This is that Jason x Reader thing I said I was going to write. I changed my mind about the reading thing because my stuttering got annoying and I doubt anyone wants to hear that. Anyway, thanks for reading cause I know no one likes the author’s not part, and you can reblog if you want (I don't care).

         - Danny ✌️👽 }

<|--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------|>

   From the small balcony from your apartment, you could see the rain dropping to your feet where the balcony’s overhead cover ended in front of you. The smoke rose from the cigarette between your lips, your nose flaring only occasionally to let out the smoke that flooded your lungs like poison into the open air before you. Poison...why was that word so familiar? Why did you feel the word’s meaning as you thought it and felt it as you spoke it out loud? Was there a meaning at all?

  You cursed yourself for missing him, but what were you going to do, not want him? You cursed yourself for hating when he was gone, even when you yourself told him not to get attached.

It had been three months since you met Jason Todd, the vigilante known as Red Hood.

  The first time you met was an odd one, mainly because he dropped down onto your balcony with his back leaning against the wall and his eyes screwed shut tightly like it was normal to do that right outside of a random person’s apartment balcony door. It didn't take you long to realize that he was clutching his side because he was bleeding out, and in those few moments of staring down at him in your pajamas at 1:03 in the morning you mad a decision to help him. Or phrased more correctly; technically act as a safe house for him whenever he was in trouble and you were nearby.

  You could count on your fingers how many times he'd shown up to your house injured or needing somewhere to stay. At least that's what he said. He never took of his mask around you, and so you were fairly certain he didn't trust you enough to do it yet, or...wouldn't at all. It had been concluded (non verbally, mind you, and probably mutually?) a long time ago that you weren't just used for tactical use but also...for company. Someone to talk to.

  You had to admit that he wasn't very hospitable at first. Maybe your thirst for friends waved some red flags for him in the beginning, but you eventually eased him into it. As a resolve, you started off slow. 

  When asked if he wanted to stay, he'd hesitate, making sure to get a little comfortable and asking to hear about something in your life to fill the silence. When asked how his day had been, he seemed a little awkward at first in his responses as if he wasn't used to reporting in a way that was a sort of ‘i care’ type. That red mask couldn't hide what was underneath forever, you know? He told you his name was Jason after three weeks of consistent asking if you could call him something other than some comic book esque alias. Jason, was his name. Jason Todd.

  You'd sit out here for the past few months now, waiting with your cigarette between your lips and/or fingers, listening to the cars pass by below and watching the onlooking city of Gotham you'd grown so accustomed to. It hadn't changed since you left. At least not by much. Still full of crime, grime and bright lights. But it seemed a little...different. Maybe it was the change in jobs, or change in setting since when you lived here as a kid. You weren't sure, but you were sure of one thing; you had it bad for the man in red.

"You know, I've died once before. It's not fun. Those things just speed up the process."

  Speak of the devil and he shall appear, the man in red hears his name and- poof!- he's here. You made no move to turn your head as you heard the familiar thunk of weight carried in combat boots against the metal ground, shaking a glass and plate nearby that you had eaten off of and never bothered to bring inside again. He stood still for a moment, looking over your figure. He was wet from the rain, you could feel him shaking it off his coat as he stood there. Your muscles pulled taught at the corners of your eyes, he could hear it in your voice.

   "Can't be that bad if I've got a dead man telling me what to do, huh?", you said, removing the cigarette from your lips. He slowly moved forward, stature seeming to be much more straight and muscular than yours. It still amazed you sometimes how big he really was, not just visually. Jason, physically, was a big dude. Like, monster height yeah you'd seen that, but muscle wise? Dude looked like he could bend you over his knee and crack your spine in half with his thumbs. Bad analogy, but you get the point.

   Jason chuckled a little, taking the cigarette from your lips and holding it between his fingers. He almost made a move to smoke from it, but lowered his hand once he remembered that he had his mask on. You rolled your eyes for a second, but didn't pressure him on it.

  If he was wearing it it was for a good reason. His face may have been messed up or something, but you really didn't care. Or maybe he didn't like looking at himself? "Well, smart ass, being dead helps you learn a few things. Like take care of yourself. And...take it easy.", he said, leaning onto the frame of the railing to his right with his elbows positioned to hold him up to face you. You seemed to contemplate the thought, thinking that you'd like your cigarette back while he was toying with it between his gloved fingers. Now you were starting to question if you liked how you couldn't see any of him at all in the first place because of how damn annoying he was sometimes. Maybe you also liked that you couldn't see his face, too. It might've bee not the mystery behind it. It used to keep you up thinking about it.

  But, like most things, you'd gotten to the point of not giving a shit, and stuffing your hands in your pocket, you exhaled a sigh, watching smoke rise due to the coldness in the air. Your brow raised as you still didn't turn to face him. You didn't have to. You already knew what he looked like; enticing and practically begging for you to kiss his dumb mask-face. And it was annoying. "Really? Feel like that's directed at me in some way, you trying to say something?", you said, with a bit of a hiss to your voice. Of course you didn't mean it in a vile way, but it sounded like it.

  He knew better than to get offended at it though, instead resorting to smiling a little and shrugging, watching the butt of the cigarette lose its flame. Would it hurt him if it hit his skin? Could he even feel pain? "You look tired, rough day at work?", he asked quietly. He meant it, you could tell from the way his pitch changed from teasing to slightly more...concerned. Your back was hunched at an angle only used to alleviate a greater pain along your posture, and your eyes were half lidded to the point of making things in front of you seem hazy if you were to zone out, like you were falling asleep standing. You sighed deeply, running a hand over your forehead. "Some dickheads from Cobblepot’s gang came in and caused a fight to break out. Had to stay a few hours over repairs cause the boss of the joint can't get his shit together long enough to stop drinking and handle it on his own."

  He stood there was your brows furrowed into and agitated expression, eyes narrowing suit and grin fading from its neutral position to a displeased frown. "If that son of a bitch walks into the bar again I'll just shoot him down, I'm starting not to care if I loose my damn head for it." Jason's hand tightened on the railing he was resting on. "Don't say that." His voice seemed concerned, but more in a way of trying to sound concerned in a masked way. Like he didn't want you to know that he cared. There was a long moment of silence, and for a good few seconds you felt the familiar rage from earlier bubbling in your chest. That same burning sensation in the back of your throat and the tightness in your chest wasn't helping, your eyes narrowed as your arms crossed over one other. You were thinking it over, trying to figure out what you were thinking about it clearly behind the emotions of blinding rage. You did a lot of that lately.

  He didn't push you to speak. You were starting to think that he wouldn't be good with a partner since he didn't seem to care much whether you spoke or not, but to be fair you weren't his partner. You were... what were you? A refuge? That sounded to generous for your affiliation. A safe house? Probably, but that sounded too personal. With a long sigh, you tried to alleviate the tightness forming in your ribs. The moon was almost completely clouded over, the starts invisible due to the light pollution in the city. It was kind of sad how that had become something so common now. So many kids wouldn't be able to see the stars from their bedroom window anymore, or be able to look out from their backyard and see the endless unknown they'd most likely never get the chance to explore.

  Turning on your left heel, you moved to face him more directly, standing in close enough proximity to hear his voice if it were above a whisper. On previous occasions prior to your meeting you'd feel him tense up a little and grow uneasy under the closeness. But he didn't move now, and it felt more as if he was welcoming your presence more than anything. Your eyebrows lifted from their scornful expression, moving to something more mutely interested and amused. Your voice carried like the wind passing, ending far to short for his liking. He wasn't sure he'd ever want it to stop. "What about you, Red Hood- got any stories up your sleeve for me?", you asked, moving to steal your cigarette back. But Jason moved quicker than you, and faster than your hand extended to his arm he moved his hand back up to be level with his his shoulder. Tilting your head, you smiled a little. "Let me guess, you got hurt again? You can't be hurting that bad if you've managed to pop off at the mouth a few times in the course of a few minutes-" Your tone was teasing, but he made sure to cut you off to spare himself. Albeit he sounded sort of wary, it still caught you off guard enough to stop in your tracks.

"I saw something- ...that reminded me of you. Today."

  Saying that made you a little more than surprised, and in a flash of heat you felt your cheeks burn up a bit and your grin fade into amazement. His shoulders dropped, head dropping for a second as his hand fell back to have his elbow rest on the railing to lean back. You knew it was weird but you felt oddly...good. Did he really think of you? "Wh- Me?", you chuckled nervously, seeming to try to hide your reddening face by the dip of your head and the sudden interest in the ground below you. "Yeah- I uh- I did.", Jason replied. In a sudden burst of what seemed like realization he hurriedly reached for his jacket pocket, taking out what looked like a small necklace in a see-through box. From his outstretched hand you thought that it looked rather nice against the leather of his gloves, and your hand moved to take it from his.

  You watched closely as the dim lights from your apartment and the lights of the city blended around his fingers as they retreated from your own a little less eagerly than you expected. Huh. Slowly, you opened it, revealing what seemed to be a small blue flower in resin that looked like a water droplet. It was a pendant for the chain through its metal hook, glistening a pale silver that made you feel the urge to smile for a camera that wasn't there. Glancing up, you grinned at Jason. And in a flash of a second he felt his whole body flush with a sensation he knew all to well, especially with you. From under his mask he bit on his lower lip subconsciously, seeing how the curve of your mouth upturned in a grin so sincere he couldn't help but feel some sort of need to protect it.

  "You got this for me, you big sap?", you said, grinning widely. Your tone was teasing, but the light punch in his shoulder as your eyes glistened with admiration towards the necklace proved you weren't mad or creeped out by it. Jason chuckled a little slowly, dry and hoarse but still easygoing. "I said it made me think of you, right? Might as well give it to you to uhhh... think of yourself. I guess.", he retorted softly, shrugging a little. This d o r k. This man child. This dumb sexy masked man with attachment issues. How dare he make you start smiling, the bags around your eyes bending to seem like the most beautiful part of your face in that moment. Who even uses the word beautiful so loosely anymore?

  He seemed to watch as you placed it around your neck, the clasp going shut behind you through feeling its position a few times. You looked down, watching it cast a water-like reflection on your chest as you tilted your head a little bit like a child. Ah, fuck, that's kinda cute. Jason cleared his throat after a second, his arms folding over his chest after a second of watching you look at your own neck in awed silence. It was only when he felt his own body stiffen that he noticed you were looking at him, a slight grin on your face as you looked into the eyes of the mask. It felt like you were trying to say something to him, but your lips didn't move. Somehow, he knew what it meant, and his shoulders lost their tense feeling for the time.

  A few awkward moments passed before you looked down to your feet, clearing your throat and stepping a little closer. Oh shit, what were you- Moving closer, you felt your breath quicken a fraction as your eyes remained trained to the ground. You avoided eye contact for now, finding the cuff of his pants just above his combat boots much more interesting, it seemed. But your hands were raising, your fingers twitching under your own anticipation. He could feel his eyes wandering now, looking over your hips, your shoulders, your lips. Did you mean what you were going to do? Did you really want it?

...

Suddenly, you felt yourself stop. 

   Your hands were stuck above your waist, having been firmly held in place by two leather-clad gloves. Your eyes began to go wide, stuck on the downward angle of his head. Jason, who had felt so nervous when coming into contact with you previously but was now firmly holding your wrists, held his head low, away from the gaze your head moved so desperately to maintain. Slowly, you felt yourself relax, frowning a little. What were you thinking this time? You couldn't help but swallow down a gulp of fear forming in your throat. Maybe you had gone to far...?

   “You can't kiss me if you don't take off my mask, you know."

   Your heart stopped for a moment, eyes going wide for a good few moments as he released your hands, moving them gently by your elbows to the sides of his mask. You felt yourself gulp, cursing the strands of hair that were tickling the sides of your face and closing parts of your peripheral. You wanted to watch with all of your senses, not just your eyes. You couldn't help but tremble a little as well, and he seemed to wait patiently.

  The edge of the mask first came off of his jaw, slipping upwards smoothly as you saw what looked like part of a scar. His skin was tanned, light in places it had been cut, marred, or marked by some violent force you knew nothing about. Soon it came over his lips which were slightly parted now. Those to had a scar running up from the bottom of his pronounced chin, ending right below his pronounced nose which you saw clearly now. It seemed the edge of his eyelashes caught on the mask's cuff, causing him to close one eye. In the dim light of the balcony, you saw bright, bright eyes. They seemed to outshine the sun, beaming a slightly translucent green that made your own widen a small bit in wonder. His eyelashes were thick, dark and clumped a small bit from the wetness of the rain you assumed his face got drenched in earlier.

  His brows were thick too, seeming to line the end of his forehead over his eyelids in a way that made him look brooding. There were circles under his eyes. He looked weary. You felt, in that moment, as of you were going to collapse. Your legs and fingers had been shaking for a bit now as you stood still on the pavement, eyes trained on his own changing features. Parted lips moved to close only for a second as his tongue slid over their chapped surface. He was...beautiful. More beautiful than any person you'd ever seen at least. His expression looked as if it was constantly tired and brooding; like he'd seen things he shouldn't have.

  But you could see- and you were sure you wouldn't if you were only a few inches away -that his eyes were sad. The expanse of skin on his cheekbones and from his chin to his upper lip were charred, a very thin outline of a jagged letter 'J' carved into his left cheek. His eyes were...wary, like a tired animal. His hair looked messy and dark, a single white patch on the middle-left part of his head coming over one of his brows. He looked like the only reason he cut his hair was to keep it off his neck considering he had a very clean undercut in the back and a matted, long few pieces covering parts of his ears and brow in the front. His jaw was strong, having been pronounced by being clenched and unclenched with each touch, sending slight waves of heat over your body as your moved your trembling fingers to put down the helmet on the ground. It was heavy, but it didn't take you long to discard it somewhere near your flowerpots full of patches of unsoiled dirt and plates with cups on top of them.

  You could see that he didn't feel completely comfortable with this, and yet in the fact that you could even consider him to think himself anything less than gorgeous made you grin widely in an odd half-smile that made a small bit of your teeth shine through your lips. He clenched his jaw nervously.

  You felt a little choked up, but you could manage a few words at the moment. "Didn't know I'd be seeing God's face when I took of your mask, Jay. You could've warned me.", you said, grinning. He seemed to widen his eyes in slight surprise, moving to look anywhere but your face. Maybe he thought that if he couldn't see you you couldn't see him- and the growing blush on his face. In a breathless tone, sounding almost desperate, he spoke quietly. "Don't say that..." You rolled your eyes. "I will say that. Now look at me while I kiss you." He seemed to follow the command, his eyes still telling you that he felt a little scared. Moving his right hand from your elbow to your hip and his left from your other elbow to your neck, you slowly moved in, glancing him in the eyes before going for it.

  It seemed to catch him off guard first, for he didn't actually start kissing you back until you put one of your hands on his hip, drawing him closer. You felt suddenly that with a very restrained fierceness he moved into you, hips first, seeming to grip onto the side of your neck and your hip a bit more tightly. You felt like you were being used as an anchor, but you couldn't help but not mind it when you were being kissed like this. Jason's lips were just as chapped as they seemed, but they were strangely warm. The fact that his tongue kept darting out and straight back in was sort of endearing to you as he let out a sort of pleased sound at your hand moving to tangle in his hair.

  There was quiet as you parted, although you could now tell he was holding you as tightly as a screw would a nail. But for the moment, you didn't mind it. You liked looking as him like this, his eyes half-lidded and lips parted slightly, new moisture on his lips. With a grin, your eyes lit up as you felt a slight laugh come from your throat. This felt strangely intimate to you. Not once did you consider the fact that there was a slight raging sexual tension between you two that maybe said he wanted something out of this two, like a dumbass. But you couldn't feel bad right now for being dumb, you were too happy. With a slightly unsure moment, his grip loosed enough to let you stand more independently, the wobble in your movements mostly gone.

  His body was slightly stiff as he stood there, eyes moving all over. His movements made a lot more sense now; you could tell that previously when he did the same stiff posture earlier with his mask on he was looking around nervously to try and avoid his impending embarrassment. But he couldn't deny the pink tinge on his cheeks, and your thumb ran over his cheekbone as your hand slid back down to your side. Your eyebrow raised for a small moment as you felt yourself smirk, placing your hands on your hip. "So, uh, that was...nice. Wanna do it again sometime?" Jason said nervously, a grin spreading out on his face. You rolled your eyes at him, shoving his shoulder a little and watching him laugh and take the hit with a dramatic movement.

  "Go run home Romeo. And come back tomorrow, otherwise I'll hunt you down.", you said, backing up and watching him pick up his helmet. He shrugged a little half-heartedly before putting it back on, seeming to almost trip over the damn rail before perching up on it, looking at you with a grin. He fixed a grappling hook on the edge of the roof, pausing for a moment. His head didn't move as he breathed, but you couldn't help but chuckle a little and run a hand through your hair at the gesture. It was then that he inhaled sharply, nodding at you and giving you a two-fingered salute. "Couldn't leave if I wanted to, babe.", he said. You could hear the smile in his voice as he dropped away.

   And with that, he was gone. You felt your chest flutter at the words, and for a second of watching him drop to the street below before looking directly down there to only see nothing, you bit down on your lip.

You couldn't help but not care too much about your cigarette now.

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

And They were Coffin-Mates

Title: And They were Coffin-Mates

Summary: “I’m a vampire.”

Out of all the things to come out of his best friend’s mouth, he hadn’t expected that. Was Virgil sure he wasn’t dreaming? Maybe this was some set-up to one of Patton’s corny puns. Something like “I’m a vampire. I like my coffee de-coffin-ated.”

Virgil pretended to hate them. He groaned or grimaced at how awful they were. But really, it was all to cover up the smile they produced.

“A vampire? Pffft,” He quirked an eyebrow, “You’re going to have to try for a better joke than that, Pat.”

Word-Count: 3.5k

Pairings: platonic moxiety (they’re best friends)

Warnings: Vampires, blood mention, memory loss, involuntary turning, hurt/comfort, puns, so many puns, crying, non-graphic violence, headache, sensory overload, panic

This is based off a prompt ask I got sent a long, long awhile ago and just finally finished!

-

Virgil trudged up to his apartment, sweat rolling down his back. Really, it was his fault for wearing a black plaid hoodie and ripped black jeans. Wearing black in the sweltering heat of the summer sun’s gaze was like inviting death upon you. But he looked good in black and was willing to suffer. Besides, Virgil was quite sure his soul was dead already.

Eventually he made it to his apartment, blessed air conditioning hitting his face at last.

“How was your day, kiddo?” His roommate and best friend Patton asked. He was in the kitchen, mixing something in a bowl.

Virgil groaned loudly, collapsing into the couch cushions.

Patton whistled, “That bad, huh?”

“I’m going to fight the sun. Either that or move to Seattle, whatever’s easiest.” 

He groaned again, shoving his head into a couch pillow. His head hurt and he was so damn thirsty. Thirsty for water, please get your mind out of the gutter. He was terrible at remembering to drink enough water, something his coworker Logan constantly berated him about. Did he work with Lo today? God, he couldn’t remember. The entire day felt like a blur.

“Aw, I’m sorry you had a rough day. Maybe I can brighten it up with some pat-cakes?”

“Pat-cakes?” 

“Like it’s like pancakes, except with my name--pat-cakes!”

Virgil groaned, this time attempting to keep himself from laughing.

“Stop trying to cheer me up, it’s illegal.”

“Oh? I guess I’m a warmhearted crook then!”

“Warmhearted?”

“Yeah, because instead of a coldhearted crook, I got a lotta love and I’m not afraid to give it.”

Virgil snorted, gazing up from his pillow. Patton stood there, grinning in his grey cat-onesie. The sight was enough to warm his cold, barely beating heart, dammit.

“Well consider yourself under arrest.”

“What for?”

“Stealing my heart.”

“Oh my goodness, you made a pun!” Patton’s blinding white grin was worth it for allowing such a cliche, cheesy pun escape his lips.

“Yeah, well, don’t count on it being a regular thing,” Virgil said, turning away in a poor attempt to hide his burning, surely reddening cheeks, “that was my allotted pun for the year.”

“Auugust I’ll have to try to get another pun out of you before the year’s over.”

“August?”

“Y’know Auuu-guust, like ‘I guess?’”

“Pat, I love you but that one was terrible.”

“Oh, tearable! Like paper?! Or tearable like tears?”

“Patton, no, that wasn’t a pun.”

The banter continued as Patton finally started to pour pancake batter onto the grill. In typical Patton fashion, he created animal shapes  and stick figures out of the pancakes, rather than keeping with normal, round ones.

It helped distract Virgil from both his headache and his rather unmemorable day. Everyone deserved a Patton in their life. Someone who brightened your day with their mere presence. Virgil set the table for their pancakes-for-dinner feast as he pondered this.

He then found their largest water container (a blender) and filled it up to the brim with water. Was he going to regret this sometime in the middle of the night? Yes. Did he care? Not really, no.

He didn’t even know why his throat felt so parched. The last couple weeks of work had been ridiculously slow. It wasn’t like he had to deal conversing with a horde of customers, thank God. He took a gulp, then another and another.

“Wow, I sea you were thirsty!” 

He lifted the blender away from his mouth to respond, before pausing. He blinked, staring at the now-empty blender. Huh.

“Um yeah. Really thirsty.” He chuckled, setting the blender beside the sink.

“Good thing you quenched it then.” Patton said, looking at Virgil weirdly.

He didn’t blame him. Virgil would too look at someone weird if they chugged a 40 ounce blender like it was nothing. He licked his lips, his mouth still feeling as dry as ever. 

A part of him wanted to grab the blender, refill and down it, desperate to douse the itching, stinging feeling that clenched his throat. But he refrained, sitting down at the kitchen table instead. It was probably possible to die from drinking too much water, right?

“Here you go!” Patton said, shaking him of his thoughts. He placed a plate of pancakes in front of Virgil. There were several blobby pancakes with two triangles pointing out at the top, what Virgil presumed to be either a cat or dog.

“Thanks Pat,” He said, “So, uh, how was your day?”

“Oh, it was Pet-tastic!” Patton perked up, “I got to pet a dog today!”

“Really?”

“Yeah! I was on the subway when a person came in with the cutest--”

Virgil tried to focus on the words coming out of Patton’s mouth. He really did even as his head throbbed, headache worsening. Patton’s voice, the humming of the refrigerator, the dishwater noises, everything was suddenly too loud. He fidgeted, the fluorescent light beating down on him. He took a bite, hoping it would help. He hadn’t eaten since morning, of course he felt like shit. He just needed substance. Once he ate something, things would be okay.

Except he spat it out, coughing. Something was wrong. It couldn’t be Patton’s pancakes. He always made them to a fluffy, sweet perfection. Yet Virgil’s stomach threatened to heave up its contents at the mere taste.

“Virgil?”

He jerked his head towards Patton, wincing from the whiplash. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’m never okay.” is the retort Virgil wanted to throw back. Deflecting and self-deprecation was Virgil’s main attributes. Patton would’ve gasped at him, telling him he’d physically fight him for talking bad about himself. Except those words didn’t make it out of Virgil’s throat.

“I’m--I’m sorry, I just--think I need to go--bedroom.” 

He hated it. He ruined a perfectly good dinner all because his brain decided to freak out over things that didn’t bother normal people. 

“Hey, Virge. It’s okay, I’m not upset,” Patton said softly, “we can hang out more tomorrow. Movie night, remember?”

“Y-yeah.” Virgil said, rising from his chair. Vertigo crashed into him, almost sending him to the ground if not for a pair of arms catching him.

“I’ve got you.” Patton said, adjusting his hold so that Virgil stood, heavily leaning against him.

“T-thanks.”

“Let me help you to your room, okay? Wouldn’t want you falling for me again.”

Virgil let a small, breathless snort. He wanted to protest, but his legs felt too much like jello that he didn’t trust them. Patton guided him down the hallway, to Virgil’s dark cave of a bedroom. He let out a hiss when Patton flipped the light switch.

“Opps, sorry kiddo.” Patton apologized, shutting it off. They stumbled into the room, until they reached Virgil’s bed. Patton hoisted him onto the bed, fussing with his covers until Virgil was nice and tucked in. 

“I’ll save you some pancakes.” Patton said as he closed the door. Virgil didn’t respond. He closed his eyes, the quiet darkness quelling his swelling anxiety. Fatigue finally claimed his bones and he fell unwillingly into slumber.

It wasn’t a peaceful sleep. It was one of those dreams you woke up more exhausted than rested. The thirst followed him into the dream. It gnawed at him, nearly indistinguishable from hunger. He had to satisfy it, relinquish the control it held over him. He went out to search for something to make the burning ache go away. 

He went--well, he wasn’t sure he went. Everything turned hazy, as dreams often tended to be. The next thing he knew, he was standing over someone. No, not a person, they were just a pulse of red to him. They had it, the thing he needed and they weren’t giving it willingly. Something tackled him to the ground, pinning him to the ground as he flailed, desperate to escape its’ grip--

He shot up, gasping. Panic pumped through his veins. This wasn’t his bedroom, where was he? He frantically scanned the dark murky surroundings, relaxing slightly when he recognized it as his apartment living room. Still, what was he doing here and not his bedroom?

“You’re awake.”

Virgil jumped, vaguely making out Patton in the armchair beside the couch. He wasn’t in his cat onesie anymore. Oddly enough, he seemed dressed not in pajamas but in a polo shirt and blue jeans.

“Y-yeah, finally. I had a really weird nightmare.” Virgil said, surprised to find the action of speaking no longer painful. In fact, his throat felt fine even. Maybe the blender water’s effect was delayed.

Patton sighed, moving to sit on the couch next to Virgil. He didn’t say anything at first. Instead, he clasped his hands together, fingers twisting in a fretful manner. It alarmed Virgil. Patton was always babbling about something, jumping from one topic to the next seamlessly. Virgil didn’t know how he never ran out of things to say.

“Virgil, there’s something you should know,” He hesitated, “I was planning on telling you eventually. I just didn’t think…”

“What is it?” Virgil asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.

“I’m a vampire.”

Virgil gaped at him. Out of all the things to come out of Patton’s mouth, he hadn’t expected that.  Was Virgil sure he wasn’t dreaming? Maybe this was some set-up to one of Patton’s corny puns. A way to placate Virgil. Something like “I’m a vampire. I like my coffee de-coffin-ated.” Virgil pretended to hate them. He groaned or grimaced at how awful they were. But really, it was all to cover up the smile they produced. 

Virgil laughed, except it came out wrong. All high-pitched and strained.

“A vampire? Pffft,” He quirked an eyebrow, “You’re going to have to try for a better joke than that, Pat.”

“I’m not joking. Promise.” Patton insisted, grasping Virgil’s hands with his own.

Virgil swallowed, staring down at Patton’s pale hands. Come to think of it, Patton always shied away from doing outdoor activities, especially in the blazing hot summer heat.

“I’m Irish! I burn easily.” Patton once said, laughing.

Patton wasn’t laughing now. He looked abnormally serious, his lips pressed together in a neutral line. It was starting to freak Virgil out even more, to be honest.

“Vampires aren’t real, they’re just fictional,” Virgil said, as if he didn’t spend his time watching conspiracy theory videos at 4AM and wholeheartedly believing them on a daily basis.

Besides, Patton was too sweet, too kind and bubbly to be a vampire. They were gruesome creatures of the night, they feed on blood and had little room for morals. Unless, Virgil’s breathed hitched, unless Patton had been faking everything, what if their entire friendship was just a whole facade in order for him to get close enough to suck his blood?!

“Virgil, breathe,” Patton said, squeezing his hands.

He squeezed back, inhaling a deep shuddering breath.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You have nothing to apologize for, remember?” Patton said, referring to a past conversation they had regarding Virgil’s anxiety.

“Patton, I just…” Virgil bit his lips, instantly regretting it. He must’ve bit down harder than usual because it hurt, “having a hard time not thinking this is a dream.”

“I can show you,” Patton said, “Is it okay if I turn on the lamp light?”

Virgil nodded and with his consent, Patton reached over to the end table and turned the lamp on. A soft glow flooded the room. Virgil closed his eyes regardless, black dots overwhelming his vision. 

“You okay?”

“Just gimme a moment.” Virgil gritted his teeth, wincing again when the action hurt him. What the hell was wrong with him?

“I’ll only keep it on for as long as necessary,” Patton reassured.

“Alright,” He nodded, fighting to keep his eyes open. It burned like someone had been chopping garlic, but that was ridiculous, right?

Patton drew a breath in, opening his mouth wide. Virgil watched in horror as two sharp incisors intruded from his gumline. Even if Patton wasn’t one for cruel, practical pranks, there was no way it was a pair of cheap plastic fangs. They looked too real, too grotesque to be fake.

“What the fuck!” Virgil fell off the couch, tripping in his haste to flee. He plunged to the floor, his head banging against the corner of the coffee-table.

A dull pain blossomed around the crown of his head but he stood up anyways. He had to get away, flee from this twisted nightmare he found himself in. This couldn’t be real. Perhaps he thought he woke up only to be thrust into an even worst nightmare than before.

“Virgil, Virgil, please calm down!” Patton appeared at his side within a blink, placing his hands on Virgil’s shoulders. 

He tried jerking out of Patton’s grip, glancing wildly for some sort of escape. Belatedly he realized though the lamp light had been turned off, he could still perfectly see his surroundings. What the hell? He looked back at Patton, taking in the worried wrinkles and his normal set of teeth. No fangs. Where were they? He knew he saw them, he couldn’t have imagined them--

“P-please dont hurt me,” He whimpered, digging his head into Patton’s chest. He didn’t know why he did that. He should kept thrashing, escaping the grip of a supposed vampire. But Patton was also his friend, who cheered him up with stupid cheesy puns. The one and only person Virgil trusted and sought comfort from.

Patton drew his arms around Virgil, pulling him closer. He froze, waiting for sharp fangs to pierce his neck. Instead a hand carded through his hair, soft and gentle.

“I wouldn’t dare,” Patton said, his voice tight with emotion, “I’m going to hurt those that did however.”

Virgil craned his neck to look up at him, “W-what do you mean?”

Patton didn’t say anything at first, continuing to caress Virgil’s hair.

“Virgil, how was your day?”

“What?”

“Your day, before you--” Patton hesitated, “before you fell asleep, what happened?”

“I overslept my alarm,” Virgil recalled, “I was in a rush to get to work, and I....”

He bit his lips, a soft curse slipping out from both the pain it produced and the fact he couldn’t remember. He must’ve went to work, right? Work has been so slow and tedious that he just forgot what happened. He must’ve said some of that out loud because Patton slowly shook his head.

“Virgil, I contacted your workplace. You never showed up to work.”

“Wha-but I wouldn’t--I mean--” Virgil jolted, making direct eye contact with Patton, “I’m a vampire now, aren’t I?”

 He couldn’t believe he said that out loud just now. It was absurd, it didn’t make any sense! But...it did make sense in a maddening, down-the-rabbit-hole way. His unquenchable thirst, his unusually sensitive eyes, food tasting weird, that absurd, horrific nightmare that was starting to feel more and more like it wasn’t a nightmare. Had he really almost killed a person to drink their blood? He felt lightheaded, his world spinning wildly out of control as he clung to Patton for balance.

“I got you kiddo,” Patton whispered, leading him to sit on the couch, “do you need a glass of water?”

He was deflecting, maybe in a poor attempt to spare Virgil from the cold, harsh reality.

“Patton,” Virgil hissed, “I need to know.”

Patton averted his gaze, his hands curled into fists by his side.

“Yes.”

Virgil’s heart stopped beating. Wait a minute, didn’t vampires’ hearts already didn’t beat because they were undead? Did that mean Virgil was technically dead?!

He frantically checked his own pulse, relieved yet spooked hear it. Albeit, much more slow and lethargic than before.

“Our heart beats at a slower rate than humans,” Patton laughs weakly, “A lot of the myths around vampires don’t have any truth to them.”

“Pat,” Virgil’s voice trembled, “This is crazy, I mean--you’re a vampire and I’m one?! Did you--”

“No!” Patton insisted, his eyes flashing a brief red, “Virgil I promise you, I’d never do that. It can be really, really painful--the whole turning process. It can be so traumatic that well, I--I don’t even fully remember my own. Many don’t survive let alone live pass it. I’ve never wanted you to know what it’s like to--”

Patton cut himself off, jerking his head away. Virgil took hold of his hand, squeezing it gently.

“Know what?” He pressed. Patton’s lips quivered, tears glistening in his eyes, as he cupped Virgil’s cheek with his free hand. Virgil leaned down, gently touching his forehead with Patton’s.

“Pat, please.”

“You deserved a normal human life,” Patton said at last, a strangled noise escaping him, “Where you got to live and grow old and die. You didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve to be a monster like me.”

Patton broke away, clasping a hand to his mouth as the tears finally fell down his face. Virgil watched, his head throbbing as conflicting emotions raged war inside. Denial, rage, sadness--he pushed them all aside. Patton. He needed to focus on Patton. 

Despite everything, he still knew one thing; Patton Patterson was the furthest thing from a monster. Virgil refused to believe anything otherwise. He needed that one thing to remain true or else he’d fall apart completely.

“Patton you’re not a monster, you’re--you’re,” Virgil took a breath, steadying himself, “you’re my best friend.”

Patton let out a bark of laughter, “If--if you knew the things I’ve done, you wouldn’t be saying that.”

“Yes, I--I would,” Virgil swallowed, kneeling down beside him, “Pat, you are the kindest person I've ever met. You cry at cheesy Hallmark movies that end in happy endings. You volunteer at the local animal shelter and soup kitchen. You believe the best in people, even if they’re a shitty anxious nobody who doesn’t deserve it--”

“Virgil--” Patton choked.

“And--and unless that was all one elaborate ruse to fool the world, to fool me,” Virgil pressed on, “vampire or not, your presence makes my day bat-ter.”

“Bat-ter? L-like bat?”

“Yeah, well, congratulations you managed to get a pun outta me before the year’s end.”

Patton stared at him, mouth hanging open. He then laughed again, this time surging forward to tackle Virgil in a hug. Virgil yelped, falling to the floor hard enough to see black dots. Still, he clung to Patton as if afraid of never getting the opportunity again. Virgil let out a high-pitched keen, no longer being able to contain his anguish. Patton responded with a despairing wail of his own. 

Tears poured down both of their faces as their sobbing duet continued. For a long, long while it was the only noise produced from either of them. Until it tapered off into weak whimpers and then it was just the sound of two slow, steady sets of heartbeats close together.

“Pat?” Virgil croaked, utterly exhausted from the ordeal. He wanted nothing more than to fall asleep, safe and secure in Patton’s arms. A small part of him yearned to wake up in his bed and learn that all of this was a nightmare and nothing more. Yet the pain from unconsciously biting his lip with his newly sharpened incisors said otherwise.

“Yes?” Patton answered, his hand brushing through Virgil’s hair once more. He was so soft and gentle that it was hard for Virgil to ever imagine him the same species as Count Dracula.

“If--if you didn’t, um, turn me, then wh-who-how--why don’t I remember--why would--” Virgil let out a frustrated huff.

“Virgil, I...I don’t know who did it or why. There’s lots of reasons why another vampire would do it,” Patton said, dropping to a low growl, “and none of them are good ones.”

“Oh,” Virgil swallowed, “and that person? I went after a person, didn’t I? That was real, right? Did--did I hurt them? I swear I didn’t mean to, I--I--”

“Virge, deep breathes,” Patton said, “They’re okay, you didn’t hurt them. They were fanged out but okay. And then I brought you back here and gave you some of my blood supply.”

“I--I don’t remember that.” Virgil said, “I remember attacking them and something...stopped me? That was you right? But I don’t--I don’t remember--”

Virgil’s voice trailed off, the words once more getting tangled up in his throat. He was afraid. Virgil was always afraid but this was new. Vampires were real and he was one of them. He was an immortal, bloodsucking creature of the night. As much as it sounded cool on paper, it was utterly terrifying. Especially to know he had no memory of becoming one. 

As if sensing his distressed thoughts, Patton brushed his bangs aside to kiss his forehead.

“Shh, it’s common for young vampires to black out from blood rage. It’s--well, it’s not okay what happened to you, Virgil. I’m so sorry, I should’ve been there to stop it from happening. But I swear to you it’s going to be okay and that I’m here now to help.”

“Promise?” Virgil asked, yawning.

“Of course. Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a stake in my heart.”

And while Patton’s words didn’t immediately quell his fears, he fell asleep knowing Patton would be there for him, like he always was.

[hotforharrison]

Confessions in a Can (Oneshot)

Masterlist

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield/Reader

Summary: Confessing your feelings to Harrison with help from some whipped cream.

Word Count: 1,307

Warnings: Language and smut, my usual go-tos.

A/N: I have over 3,000 words written in the next chapter of Heart’s Desires, so it’s definitely in progress! Kinky!Haz keeps being Soft!Haz. I don’t know if I can write him any way other than soft and sweet. I guess there’s room for both!

You had a problem. The problem had a name. Its name was Harrison Osterfield.

After meeting Harrison while he was walking one of your new favorite dogs, the sweet and adorable Monty, you became fast friends.

Your attraction to him was immediate. He was insanely hot. You’d have to be blind not to notice that. Hell, he was technically a male model, even though he was quick to remind you that he was an actor first and foremost when you teased him about it.

Although you knew you weren’t the best flirt, you’d tried subtly flirting with him. He was either not interested and didn’t know how to tell you, or completely clueless. Maybe you needed to be less subtle, but you definitely needed to be braver first.

It was a lazy weekend, and you were hanging out with Harrison, as had become what you usually did in the past few months.

"I'm going to the kitchen. Want anything?" he asked, getting up from the sofa and grabbing his empty glass off the coffee table. 

"I'm good, thanks," you replied, half-watching the game on the TV.

He returned soon after with a bottle of beer and a can of whipped cream. After he put the beer bottle on the coffee table, he uncapped the whipped cream and sprayed it into his mouth. 

You laughed. "Jesus, are you ten, Harrison?"

He grinned over at you, making a show of tipping his head back and squirting more in his mouth. "What? It's good!"

You noticed some had gotten on his neck. "Hey, you got some on you."

"Where?" he asked. 

"I'll get it." You weren’t sure what it was, but you felt braver in that moment then you had in the past. It was time to leave no questions to your intentions. 

You leaned over to bring your lips to Harrison's neck, tongue running slowly and thoroughly over his skin, cleaning off the sweet whipped cream. 

When you pulled back and looked at his face, his eyes were widened, and he raised his eyebrows. "What was that?" 

"Just helping a friend out with a little problem," you responded. 

"More like making a not so little one," he muttered. 

You glanced down at his sweatpants, the outline of his erection obvious through the fabric. You smirked, grabbing the can of whipped cream from him, and sprayed some on his arm. 

He laughed. "Hey! What are you doing?" 

Instead of responding, you moved to lick the whipped cream off of his skin.

"Oh, you're doing that. Alright.” He took a breath. “We should probably talk before we do this.”

"Sorry, my mouth is busy,” you told him.

He smiled. "No, it's not."

“Yes, it is.” You sprayed more whipped cream further up on his arm, close to the sleeve of his jersey, taking longer to lick it off this time. 

When you were done, you played with the hem of his jersey, hand slipping underneath to brush against his toned stomach, the way you’d always wanted to do when you’d seen him shirtless.

He tensed underneath your touch, but didn't stop you. "I'm still not entirely sure what's going on here, and again, we are going to talk about it later, but I take it you want me to take my shirt off for whatever it is we’re doing right now?" 

Instead of answering with words, you simply nodded.

He tugged the jersey over his head and dropped it on the sofa next to him, looking at you expectantly.

You licked your lips and dropped to your knees in front of him, making space for yourself between his spread legs.

His eyes were locked on you as you sprayed another line of whipped cream over his chest.

Your tongue traced patterns over his skin as you licked up the whipped cream. You gently bit down on one of his pecs and started sucking it.

“Hey, no marks,” he warned. “Going to the beach on Monday.”

You stopped, a little disappointed, and moved to flick one of his nipples with your tongue. Your teeth grazed over the hardening nub.

“Shit,” he groaned.

As an afterthought, you placed a glob of whipped cream over the other nipple before you attacked it with your mouth, not stopping until the last hint of sweetness was gone from his skin.

His abs were the next place you put the whipped cream, outlining them.

Whipped cream or no, you’d always wanted to lick his abs. Honestly, most women probably wanted to lick his abs, especially after all the thirst trap shirtless photos he posted on social media. You’d never tell him, but you had pretty much all of his sexy photos saved for when you spent time quality time with your battery-operated boyfriend.

You eagerly followed the trail of whipped cream over the firm muscles, appreciating the time he put in at the gym.

Next up on your trail down his torso was his belly button. It wasn’t something you’d admit aloud because you found it weird, at least not unless you were well on your way to drunk, but you found his belly button sexy.

After surrounding it with what was probably too much whipped cream, you swirled your tongue over and around his navel, paying extra attention to it long after the whipped cream was gone.

You placed one hand on his sweatpants near the waistband, other still holding the can of whipped cream, and looked up to meet his eyes, waiting for permission.

“Yeah. Yeah, go ahead,” he encouraged.

Your hand was a bit shaky with nervousness when you freed his cock from the confines of his sweatpants and boxers.

You took a moment to appreciate the sight and feel of it in your hand. He was a little longer than average, a good, sturdy thickness. If he let you, and you very much hoped he would, you knew he’d fill you up nicely.

Before he questioned why you were sitting there staring at his dick, you covered it partially with whipped cream, but the can hissed, spraying just air, before you were completely done.

With a shrug, you put the empty can on the coffee table, and licked a long stripe through the whipped cream from your hand up to the tip. You were quick to take him in your mouth and clean up the rest of the whipped cream with your tongue.

When you started licking and sucking him in earnest, he moaned loudly. His hands tangled in your hair. He gently guided you over his cock, definitely gentler than he had to be, careful not to make you gag or tug on your hair too hard. Even lost in pleasure, he was sweet.

“Gonna cum soon, love,” he warned you.

You sucked on him harder in response, bobbing your head faster.

“Fuck,” he groaned, as he spilled into your mouth in several long spurts.

You swallowed and pulled back, cleaning him thoroughly with little kitten licks as he softened.

“Too bad we’re out of whipped cream,” he commented, still a little breathless.

“Sorry you didn’t get much,” you apologized.

He chuckled. “I’m not, but it would be nice to return the favor. I guess I don’t technically need whipped cream to do that, though.”

“You want to do that?” you asked, surprised.

“I know you. You’re not that daft, darling.” He smiled brightly down at you, and your heart skipped a beat. “Now, come on. Let’s go to my room before one of the guys walks in on us, yeah?”

“One of the guys already heard you in there and chose not to walk in on you,” you heard a voice call from the kitchen. “It’s about damn time, too. You’ve been dancing around each other for weeks now. Tom owes me £50. He was sure you two were already fucking.”

Tag list: @adayasgeorgia @moorehollandplz @thollandss @dasexydevitt13 @imagine-lovebug @robbinholland @strang-ersclub @hollandisapuppy @goldenpeaxh @legendsofwholock @superheroesaremytea @tomblrholland @niiight-dreamerrrr @spidermanffh3000 @devildisguiseasangel @theyy-lovemo @eeyore101247 @angelhaz11 @i-love-scott-mccall @bewitched-haz @farfromhaz @jinx4karma @definitely-not-black-cat @lizzyosterfield

[besanii]

Hadestown wangxian au? Because really, what's more romantic than taking your stringed instrument and going to rescue your maybe(?)dead lover from the stygian underworld??? Also, double bonus points 'cause 1) gotta rescue wwx from a realm guarded by a three-headed dog! 2) eurydice's name means "she whose justice extends widely" iirc, which is a pretty wwx vibe.

Hi nonny! Not familiar with Hadestown, but I do know the original myth, so if you don’t mind I’m going to base it loosely on that (and add a bit of Chinese mythology to it too) :) 

The Gusu Lan sect cultivates through music, channeling their spiritual energy through their instruments to resonate with their surroundings. Through this, they can direct the energy outwards to manipulate the world around them, or direct it inward to a person’s soul, to soothe or to harm.

They can also communicate with the dead.

Lan Wangji has played Inquiry thousands of times. It is the first language one learns when cultivating through music and the most widely used. There are ways to pinpoint certain spirits to ask a question, ways to hold them there until they respond, ways to force them to answer, ways to prevent them from lying. The effectiveness of the language depends on one’s skill. And Lan Wangji is a master.

And yet Wei Wuxian does not answer.

He plays Inquiry until his fingers bleed, until the calluses on his fingers crack and tear under the silk strings. He pours all of his spiritual power into each note, calling for Wei Ying, Wei Ying, Wei Ying—and when that yields no results, he plays the question: Where is Wei Ying?

He draws spirits from far and wide, each clamouring for his attention, offering up stories and rumours and hearsay: Yiling-laozu is wandering the Burial Mounds, the Nightless City, Lotus Pier, Yiling. He follows each one to every corner of the land and sends out the call.

Wei Wuxian does not answer.

–

Some say Wei Wuxian flew too close to the sun and burned for it.

Others say Wei Wuxian tried to play god with the lives of others and was punished.

They call him a monster, a heretic.

They say he deserved his end, torn apart by the very monsters he created until nothing of him remained but stories.

Good riddance.

He’ll be dragged into the depths of the Underworld and punished for all eternity for his sins.

No one will mourn him.

But they are wrong.

Wei Wuxian had been a boy who loved freely, who had been quick to smile and quick to anger, who had sought nothing more than justice and peace for those who couldn’t protect themselves. He had been clever, too clever, too quick-witted, full of new ideas and thirst for knowledge.

And Lan Wangji mourns.

–

One day, after years and years of searching, the spirits take pity on him.

There is a way, they tell him, to the Underworld.

If Wei Wuxian is dead, he will be there.

He doesn’t hesitate.

Where do I go?

The spirits flicker and dance across the strings.

We’ll show you.

-

In his travels, Lan Wangji has heard of the Underworld in many forms.

He hears stories of the Eighteen Levels, of Yanluo Wang and the gruesome tortures awaiting damned souls as punishment for their sins. Then there are stories of the Ten Courts through which dead souls pass, one at a time, until they are reincarnated back into the world of the living. There are other stories, of rivers made of the souls of the dead, of ferocious beasts and ghostly guards, and of jealous gods.

“Wangji, this is madness,” Lan Qiren says angrily, when he tells them of his plan. “I forbid it.”

“This is very dangerous,” Lan Xichen agrees. “Please reconsider, Wangji.”

There is understanding in his eyes, a sad resignation that sends a sharp knife through Lan Wangji’s heart. They love him and fear for him and believe his judgement to be clouded by blind devotion. But they do not know Wei Wuxian like he does. They do not understand how his entire being, his very soul calls out to Wei Wuxian—to that beautiful boy bathed in moonlight on the rooftops of the Cloud Recesses he’d failed to save.

So he leaves, Bichen in hand, Wangji strapped across his back, following the spirits down into the chasm between the world of the living and the beyond.

-

They take him to the river, where a ghostly figure shrouded in black waits at the shore. One of the spirits hovers by his shoulder, whispering in his ear.

That is the Ferryman. He will take you across if you pay him.

He produces a silver coin and the Ferryman takes it; when their hands brush, a bone-deep chill runs up the length of Lan Wangji’s arm. He is careful not to come into contact with him again as he moves past him onto the boat. The spirits hover by the river bank.

We cannot come with you, they say. We cannot pay the fare. You must go alone.

“Thank you,” he says, and means it.

They dance about like fireflies in the darkness, glowing brighter and warmer than before as he bows to them.

Please take care of him.

Please take care of Wei-gongzi.

Tell him thank you. For everything.

And sorry, for not being able to help.

Lan Wangji bows again, deeper this time, his heart heavy.

“I will do my best to bring him home,” he says.

-

A three-headed dog snaps and snarls at them as they pass through the Gates. The Ferryman does not acknowledge it, even as they get close enough that its putrid breath makes Lan Wangji’s stomach turn. His fingers clench about Bichen when the Hound’s beady eyes find him, the lone living soul shining warm and bright in the darkness. It roars; the sound churns the river and rattles Lan Wangji to the bone.

He glances at the Ferryman, who continues along, unfazed. 

The Hound is a guard. It is only doing its duty.

He sets aside Bichen and instead unwraps Wangji, laying it across his lap on the boat. The first note of Rest rings out through the darkness; the Hound goes quiet, its barks subsiding into heavy breaths as Lan Wangji continues to play. The song settles over them like a heavy blanket and he pours his spiritual energy into each note until the Hound’s eyes drift closed.

The Ferryman takes them onwards.

-

The passage of time slowly starts losing its meaning the further they travel. The Ferryman continues silently, steadily, a timeless, ghostly spectre.

Lan Wangji realises the waters around them are not empty, as he had first believed, when slimy hands start grasping at the edges of the boat, rocking it back and forth as if to dislodge its cargo. He catches a glimpse of pale, translucent faces floating just beneath the surface, twisted in agony, anger, fear.

He keeps playing feverishly to ward away the chill of death creeping over his skin and the fear clawing up from inside his throat. He plays until his fingers crack and bleed, new wounds spilling over old, staining silk strings and dark lacquer. He pours everything he has into playing Rest, to soothe the anger and resentment that chokes the river.

He doesn’t dare play Inquiry.

-

By the time they reach the shore, his fingers are curled in on themselves, his joints stiff and aching and covered in blood. His lips are dry and cracked from dehydration, his tongue like sand, and each breath crackles in his lungs like tongues of fire.

The Ferryman makes no move to help as he forces himself to stand, every part of his body screaming in protest. He draws upon years and years of discipline to keep himself upright, to move one foot in front of the other until he feels solid rock beneath his feet. Only then does he crumble.

He lays on the cold, rocky shore, Bichen by his side, Wangji just within reach, as he watches the Ferryman glide away. Darkness clouds his vision in flickering patches. He is so tired.

Lan Zhan? Lan Zhan! Where are you?

He reaches for Wangji.

Wei Ying. I’m here.

He closes his eyes.

-

Fingers card through his hair, teasing out knots and soothing the ache away with gentle motions. He is dimly aware that his head is pillowed on something soft; the soul-crushing weariness is gone, replaced instead by a tingling warmth that rushes through his veins and fills his lungs. The air is filled with the scent of flowers.

“You shouldn’t be here,” a familiar voice says. “You shouldn’t have come.”

His heart leaps into his throat. He knows this voice. 

A rush of longing so intense floods his senses, burning behind his closed eyelids, trickling down his throat, twisting and churning in his stomach. He gasps, chokes on the sob that wrenches from his throat and his fingers scrabble at the ground, trying to push himself into a sitting position, to see—

A hand covers his eyes and holds him in place.

“Don’t.” He lays back down. “You mustn’t open your eyes.”

“Wei Ying,” he says, his voice hoarse and raspy from disuse. “Is that you?”

Wei Wuxian chuckles. “Yes, it’s me Lan Zhan. You stupid, stubborn fool.”

Lan Wangji raises his hand, grasping blindly at the air until another hand intercepts it. He clutches it like a lifeline, running his thumb over each knuckle, each finger, over the familiar calluses honed by years of training; he presses it to his mouth reverently. 

“Wei Ying.” His name falls like a litany from his lips. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to stop. “Wei Ying. Wei Ying. Wei Ying.”

“I’m here,” Wei Wuxian assures him. A thumb brushes over his cheek. “I’m here, Lan Zhan.”

“I lost you,” Lan Wangji says. The words are thick in his throat. “I couldn’t…couldn’t protect you. And then you were gone.”

“I know.” 

“I looked everywhere for you.”

“I know.”

“You never answered.”

“I couldn’t.” Wei Wuxian exhales shakily. “I’m sorry.”

Lan Wangji clutches at his arm. 

“Come back,” he says, pleading. “Come back with me. Please.”

How many times has he asked, when Wei Wuxian was still alive? How many times has he made this plea in his heart, when Wei Wuxian was gone? He’s lost count over the years. And each time, even in his dreams, he is rebuffed; each time, he wakes up alone. He doesn’t know if he’ll survive another.

“You’re one persistent fool,” Wei Wuxian says. His laughter sounds like a sob. “How can I say no to you now, when you’ve come all this way?”

-

“There are rules,” Wei Wuxian explains as he helps Lan Wangji to his feet. “Conditions.”

He must not touch Wei Wuxian.

He must not speak to him.

He must not look back.

“What happens if I do?” he asks, staring determinedly at the approaching Ferryman. 

Wei Wuxian chuckles, but there is little humour in his voice.

“Just don’t do it,” he says. “You’re good at obeying the rules. No touching, no talking, no looking. Not until we’ve both reached the surface.”

Lan Wangji smiles despite himself.

-

It’s harder than he’d expected.

Not the journey, not this time. The knowledge that Wei Wuxian is sitting behind him in the boat, just out of reach, is enough to lift his spirits. But in turn, the temptation to turn around, to talk, to touch him, just to make sure he’s still there, is a visceral ache he feels in his soul. 

What if, somewhere along the way, he loses him again?

What if the gods decide they’d made a mistake and take him away again?

What if this was a lie, to get him to return to the world of the living? 

He clenches his fist, twists it in the fabric of his robes, closes his eyes. He is one of the Twin Jades of Gusu Lan, renowned for his discipline, his determination, his unwavering faith. And he has nothing if not complete faith in Wei Wuxian.

So he sits, and waits.

-

The spirits meet him on the other side of the river, fluttering about with excitement when they realise who is behind him.

He motions for them to be silent as he leaves the boat, but his heart is pounding in his chest. They are close. He starts walking.

After a while, he realises the only footsteps he hears are his own.

The thought strikes fear into his heart like a bolt of lightning and he has to stop and breathe. The spirits around clamour around him, their movements jerky and anxious as they flit back and forth. He grits his teeth, steels his heart, and keeps walking.

He’s still here, he tells himself. He’s still here. He’ll still be here.

Just a little longer.

He sees a light up ahead and relief floods through him.

Just a little longer.

He picks up his pace until it matches his heartbeat, until he’s almost flying.

The light grows brighter, hotter. It pierces his eyes as he steps over the threshold and into the sun. 

They’ve made it.

He turns around, Wei Wuxian’s name on his lips, one hand already reaching out to grab him—

Wei Wuxian gives him a watery smile from the mouth of the cave—

—and fades from sight.

-

In a little village on the outskirts of Gusu, a boy by the name of Mo Xuanyu wakes up in a pool of blood.

// buy me a ko-fi //