ongaku-ato-kakikomi

[topaziraphale]

I have such a fun post cooking but I need to get home first to finalize it because I need screenshots :(

[eaterofman]

Yandere Harem Coworkers x New Hire Reader

Now with a part 2 <3

Good news: You landed your dream job! Bad news: Your coworkers are fucking insane.

CW: Yanderes, workplace harassment, possessiveness, implied stalking, power dynamics, dubcon touching

You hadn't expected a job like this to come so easily.

It really had been a dream job from the moment you laid eyes on the job posting, and they'd even offered you better during the interview! They'd even thrown in an extra sign on bonus! You couldn't believe your luck. You were finally going places.

Really, how could you say no?

Your interviewer was the HR manager, Leon Jacobs. He was a stern looking man, clearly in his late 40's, and didn't seem to have a single flaw in his appearance. His age showed in the beginnings of grey hairs atop his tidy, shortcut black hair, and the creases beneath his eyes. His appearance was beyond intimidating. Dark, scowling eyes picked you apart from behind his glasses as you fidgeted in your chair. Whatever nightmare of an interview you thought was coming, never happened. Instead, you were surprised when he almost immediately offered you not only the job, but an even better salary and bonus than was advertised. You were almost too stunned to speak, as he held out his hand to shake, his dark expression lifting with the slightest twitch of his lips. You took his hand shakily in agreement. In your excitement, you didn't notice the way his hand gripped yours a hair too tight, or how his touch lingered for a few moments longer than it should have. The way his gaze intently followed your figure as you walked out was also missed by you.

"We're so happy to welcome you to the team. Our team will make sure your time working here is as pleasant as possible."

Your trainer is a well respected man, Warren Pen. Warren is a huge man, easily towering over you. While he'd be otherwise intimidating at his size, his warm expression and demeanor quickly puts you at ease. How could you be afraid of him, with his warm brown eyes and bouncy red curls and gentle smile? You quickly learned that he must have a pretty high position in the company. His office alone was almost as big as your entire apartment! The office they give you is nearly as big, much to your surprise. Warren reassures you that it's not a mistake, that they just want you to be comfortable in your new position. You are so very important to the company, after all. As he helps you settle in, you're amazed by his generosity and kindness. You're too happy to question why there's such a big office space right next to his open for you, or why such a high ranking worker would be assigned to train a newbie. You're initially confused about why all your other coworkers seem to cower away from him... until you see him lose it on a poor intern. His demeanor changed from a gentle giant to a raging monster within the blink of an eye, screaming at the intern over a simple filing mistake. You find yourself suddenly on your toes around him, waiting for a verbal barrage over one of your mishaps, but it never comes.

"Don't worry, I'd never treat you like that. They deserved it. You're doing perfect."

Your department's boss is a man named Jax Wright. Jax is a charming man, and the childhood best friend of Warren. He's slim and tall, with black hair and a slightly rugged appearance. He always seems to be in a rush, hair usually rustled and a 5 o'clock shadow a constant on his face. Yet, he somehow takes time out of his busy day to visit you. Or, more accurately, he finds the time to corner you when you're alone or with Warren. You don't want to lose this dream of a job, so you don't mention the way the childhood friends always find a way to crowd around you in the more narrow hallways or the breakroom. They insist you have lunch everyday with them, why would you want to eat by yourself? You really shouldn't deny your superiors' lunch requests, y'know. You ignore the lingering touches as he leans in far closer than necessary to examine your work, hands placed possessively on your shoulders. He loves to give you overwhelming praise, even for the most minor of accomplishments. You're afraid your other coworkers will think the worst of you because of the special treatment, but they seem to be avoiding you nearly as much as they avoid Warren.

"Good job. You're exceptional as always. It's been an absolute pleasure to work with you. Keep being good and you're bound for a raise."

With the rest of the department seeming to avoid you like the plague, you start to believe that you're stuck with just the overbearing childhood friends to talk to. That is until the secretary, Jake Moor, begins to talk to you. Jake is flamboyant, to say the least. He's bright, from his beaming white smile to his wide array of cute, colorful ties he matches with his suit. He's young, in his early 20s, and his bright blonde hair only adds to his youthful appearance. He's almost too much, talking at light speed and somehow being more touchy than your boss. He always finds a reason to pull you into hugs, or rustle your hair playfully. It doesn't bother you much though, he's just being friendly, right? And you really don't want to lose one of the few friends you have in the department. He has some sort of treat for you everyday, usually a homemade meal or pastry you have to find the time to eat alone before you're coworkers steal you away to have lunch with them. His cheerful nature motivates you to stay with the company, he really is your "beacon of light". You even find yourself giggling to yourself as he sends you silly motivational cat pictures throughout your day. He's so cute you don't even question how he got your number when you never gave it to him yourself. You do find it a bit odd that he knows exactly where to go when your car breaks down one day and he gives you a ride home, but you'd told him you lived in those apartments on the east side, remember? He'd never use his position to look at confidential paperwork. Never.

"I brought you in some cookies I baked last night, and here, I even made some dog treats! I've never made them before, let me know how he likes them! How did I know you have a dog? ...you told me, remember? Silly!"

As the weeks pass, you start to become more accustomed to your coworker's odd mannerisms. They still wear on you, but the money is just so good. You need it, where else would you even go? There's no chance you'd find anything near as good, if you found anything at all. You needed this job, Jax and Warren's overbearing natures aside. At least you had Jake, who always seems to know exactly what you need whenever you need it.

You can tough it out... right?

[imwetforyourmom]

can u do hc’s of Matt sturniolo flirting w reader? (During the relationship or not, ur choice)

thank you I love ur writing

flirty matt hc’s

a/n: chat how does flirting work

BEFORE DATING

༝༚༝༚ despite where you guys were, at the fair, in a grocery store, anywhere, matt was always either checking you out, making a comment or paying you a compliment,

“lookin’ good y/n” he smirked, eyeing you with no shame present on his face.

༝༚༝༚ even with only being friends, matt always talked to you like you’d been together for years

“hey pretty, do you know where my last sense of purity went when I saw you?” some of these flirts being stupid and cheesy lines.

༝༚༝༚ subtle ways of showing his affection—either platonic or romantic, whatever you decided it seemed like— to you always consisted of simple knee touching, arm on the shoulder or glancing at you with love in his eyes, didn’t matter who else was watching.

༝༚༝༚ speaking of looking at one another, matt always found himself looking at you, taking in your appearance and never failing to say something about how pretty you looked.

“who the fuck let you walk around lookin that pretty?” he said, grabbing your waist and looking down at you, a small smirk on his face.

༝༚༝༚ during matts tough guy act, he stayed the same, cold and rude but whenever it came to you, you saw his eyes soften and his demeanor change quickly, before a sly smirk grew on his face and a compliment came from his mouth.

༝༚༝༚ matt was always prepared, he always had a pickup line ready for when you said something even remotely close to it.

“guys, I love music so fucking much.” you said, nodding your head to the beat of the music playing throughout the speakers.

“not as much as I love you” he mumbled, with a straight face, his focus completely directed onto the road, he probably didn’t even realize he’d said it.

༝༚༝༚ simple conversations with matt turned into him watching you intently, a look on his face that wasnt quite readable, except with his occasional lip biting, leaning his face slightly more towards yours or tilting his head to the side subtly while you spoke, an unspoken sense of attraction bubbling within him.

༝༚༝༚ when talking to you, even in a conversation, he’d mention your name in a sentence (more than once), with his chin tilted down ever so slightly. a small quirck of the corner of his lips up.

DATING

༝༚༝༚ even after he asked you if he could be your boyfriend, he still checked you out with a comment, anywhere. nothing changing from when you weren’t dating.

༝༚༝༚ his glances at you turned into staring. the staring only becoming worse but his eyes swirling with even more love and pure affection.

༝༚༝༚ despite dating now, when you caught matts eyes on you he’d quickly look away, scratch his neck before suddenly gaining his confidence back and looking back over at you, his eyes staring into yours and a small smirk on his face, he stared for a few more moments before he winked at you. a subtle, but noticeable action.

༝༚༝༚ after hours of talking (and him literally only flirting) with matt on the phone, he’d put a little more thought into his words, and when he’d say them, he’d make his voice slightly lower with a small hint of lust or seductiveness in his voice.

“im gonna take a shower, ill talk soon, ok?” he’d say. in his mind, saying this would make you think of him in the shower, an intimate thought that he’d done on purpose.

༝༚༝༚ when you’d mess up or feel unmotivated, he’d be right by your side or standing behind you, rubbing your shoulder and very encouragingly saying beside you, with even the slightest hint of flirting

“cmon pretty girl, I know you can do it.” still aknowledging your mess ups but purposefully using a pet name he knew made you weak in the knees.

༝༚༝༚ one time matt and you were in an elevator together, alone, and he’d grabbed your waist, pulling your front up against his and peering down into your eyes,

“looks like we’re in here, alone. wander what we could do?” with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a wandering hand, moving down to grope your ass.

༝༚༝༚ when sitting under you, or you standing above him, he’d occasionally wrap his arms around the back of your thighs and gently pull you into his lap, a small smirk on his face and a suggesting look in his eyes.

“oh my gosh y/n, how’d you end up in my lap? you clumsy girl.” he’d tease, his interlocked hands tightening the hold on your ass, bringing you slightly closer to him.

@luverboychris @chrissturniolosfavoritesexdoll @meg-sturniolo @junnniiieee07 @genshin-addict @ssilentzom @haunted-headset @sturnib-tch @b2cute @livvy4realll @graysturns @wh0resstuff @jnkvivi @sturn-bugz

@maryx2xx @mattsmad @dollyspsychoxo @mels22lunchbox

[papaya-twinks]

mauve - l.n - p.1

Warnings: Mentions of sexism, swearing.

Pairing: Lando Norris x williams!fem!reader

Taglist: @cheriiepies @jan1on @sagestack @fall-bambi @meglouise00 @eclipsedcherry @suzzie105 @rebelatbay @fly-me-away @cabbyhabs @djoenthusiast @georgeparisole

The announcement of you being the new driver to fill the seat of Logan Sargent had taken everyone by surprise. For many reasons - but it wasn’t a secret to see that you being a woman was more than likely the centre piece of most people’s surprise.

You knew what you were getting into when you signed that contract, and when you shook James Vowles’ hands, you knew there would be uproar. But you were good, otherwise you wouldn’t be here. And whether the keyboard warriors at home wanted you there or not, you were there to race.

_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

Lando wasn’t a sexist person in the slightest. He gave as much respect as he could to women, and he knew that being a woman was tough, but he couldn’t help being a little bewildered as he read over the announcement from the F1 page.

There was no doubt going to be a lot of pressure on you, tenfold what a usual, well, a usual man would receive when they would start in F1. But reading your reply, your joking reply, made Lando frown. He wasn’t sure why he cared so much.

He simply told himself he didn’t care, but surely you should show some sort of…humbleness? Not that there was anything wrong with joking around and stuff, but you were in a privileged position, one of merely twenty, so there should be some sort of modesty.

“Mate, have you seen Williams have gone for some chick?” Max asked, looking over to his best friend as Lando snapped out his thought. Lando was sprawled across the sofa, wearing dark black joggers and a hoodie, a cap pulled low on his head.

“It’s cool, I guess,” Lando said, unsure what to truly say. He didn’t want to make a remark that seemed sexist, when his intentions weren’t as such, so he just didn’t say anything. “It’s gonna be…interesting,” Max said with a small shrug, “you coming golf, then?”.

Lando would never turn down golf. And as he swung his club over his flexing shoulders, the ball sending far down the grass mound, all thoughts of you had fled his mind. He didn’t even understand why he cared. He didn’t care, that’s what he told himself.

_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

One of Lando’s pet hates was being forced to bring himself to the pre-season grid photo. But he couldn’t deny he wasn’t curious. Other than you, there weren’t any new drivers on the grid, except a few move-arounds, which was rare in some aspects.

“You saw her tweet, right?” Max asked as he zipped up his suit, letting the woman on the stool adjust his hair. “Yeah, she’s taking the piss, mate,” Lando said, dodging the woman and fixing his own hair in the mirror.

You weren’t there with the drivers or the stylists as you were a woman, meaning you got your own space to dress and change. “She’s decent on the eyes, though,” Daniel said, nudging Lando as he rolled his eyes.

“Calm down,” Lando snickered, “she’s, like, 12 or something,” he shrugged, “little bit young for you, or is that the age you go for?”. Finally, the 19 male drivers were ushered out into the area of the Bahrain track, the cars lined up behind them, as they stood in boxes in their pairs.

“Classic girl, right?” Lando whispered to Oscar as the Aussie laughed, noticing you hadn’t come out. And finally, as Lando and Oscar continued chatting away, Max joining in behind them, you walked out. You were pretty, yes, Lando could give you that.

But Lando was hot, he knew that. Well, in his own words, he was ‘alright’. And looks got you nowhere in terms of pure, racing talent. Lando hadn’t even seen you race but he had one thing in his mind already. That there wasn’t an ounce of talent flowing through your veins. Not a drop.

Daniel whispered something along the lines of, ‘They welcome grid girls back?’ as you accepted Alex’s hand, letting him pull you onto the box beside him. The suit fit you well, showing off your body in all the right places as you copied Alex’s stance.

You were directly behind Lando, and he could basically hear you breathing, as he pushed you to the back of his mind, setting his stoic expression for the camera. Maybe he should talk to you. Him and Oscar were once again shushed from their random chatting, as he huffed.

“Smile,” the cameraman said, as Lando gave a somewhat forced one, his usual shining smile clearly outdone by your radiant one. It was obvious you were happy to be there. But, for some reason which was hardly your own fault, Lando wasn’t happy for you to be there.

“Car shots, now!” a woman with a clipboard called out, directing each pairing of driver’s to their car. Once again, the Williams was placed beside the McLaren, almost like a clash of colour together, to show of their vibrancy compared to the dullness of the Mercedes of the VCARB.

If you blurred the lines of the McLaren and the Williams, you’d be left with mauve. Once the photos had been taken, the drivers had 30 minutes just talk and catch up with each other, as winter break had finally finished and most hadn’t spoke to each other for a while.

Lando watched with a half bitter expression as some of the drivers, his teammate included, as well as Carlos and Max, went over to you to introduce themselves. “Hello,” you were saying as Lando begrudgingly walked over to the group of drivers.

“New Williams driver, then?” Max said, stepping back subconsciously to let Lando into the circle. “Yeah,” you replied as Max smirked. “Well, you can light up the rear of the grid for us,” Carlos said with a nod as you smile somewhat faded.

In some ways, the Spaniard was right, the Williams, judging by last year and the year before, was in no place to fight for the top ten, let alone wins, but it did hurt to be put down so early. Before you’d even driven, actually.

“Maybe even the front, hopefully,” Alex said, shooting Max and Carlos a half-forced smile. “Quit it, mate,” Oscar shook his head with an amused smile as you followed Alex to examine the car. “McLaren’s looking good,” you said, kneeling down to examine the side of the car.

“Don’t get too close, there,” a voice said, making you jump as you straightened, seeing Lando. “Uh, I didn’t plan on it,” you said, cheeks a little red as he nodded. “Right,” he said, “it’s a good car, no?” he asked, eyes flashing across your face to gauge your reaction.

“Looks fast,” you said, eyes on the car, trailing over the bodywork. “Well, I’ll see you later, then,” Lando said with a half-hearted smile, “maybe when I lap you, I doubt I’ll be as low on the grid to pay you a visit,” he said coolly.

“I admire your confidence,” you said coolly, still looking over the car, Lando’s somewhat cocky nature faltering for a second. “Stay in your lane, Y/L/N,” he nearly hissed, leaning forwards as you felt his breath fan across your face, “and don’t step out of it,”.

A/N - Comment if you want to be in the tag list 💜

[douceurrrr]

𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 | 𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐲

— the nerd with the big cock finally loses his virginity

warnings | unedited raw material, face fucking, spanking, doggy,fingering, breeding, first time, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!)

a/n | inspired by this audio link

you agreed to study this big test with ethan because he said that he knows a good way to study for the test and to be honest you didn’t really know how to study for the test, it was just too much to study but ethan insisted on helping you. ethan didn’t know where he found the balls to ask you to come over to his dorm to study but he did not thinking you were going to come anyways, a girl like you would never be around a guy like him he thought.

meanwhile ethan is chilling in his dorm until he heard a knock on his door, he walks over and opens it to see you with two binders labeled biochemistry on them. “oh hi, I didn’t really think you were going to come.” he sounded so surprised. “I needed help, didn’t i?” you replied with a smirk, letting yourself look behind him and in his dorm, you could tell he was very neat and clean. “I know you said you needed help studying but I didn’t think you would actually show up.” he nervously chuckled with his hand behind his head.

“are you busy or something? because I can totally come another ti-”

“no!”ethan cuts you off but instantly speaks again. “I mean no, you’re fine, I’m so happy you’re here.” he says, daydreaming a bit but realizes that you were still standing there. “oh sorry, please come in.” he says, stepping aside to let you in. “my uh roommate, chad isn’t here so it’s just us.” ethan says.

“chad as in meeks?” ethan rolled his eyes knowing he instantly lost a chance to hook up with you. “I know, it’s such a coincidence that they put the jock and the nerd together.” he huffed making you laugh a bit which was all he wanted to hear. “but in all seriousness my roommate is nice, he’s just never here.” ethan explains.

“oh um I’m sorry these dorms are so damn small, you can sit on my desk and I’ll sit on the couch?” ethan says making his way to the couch, his curls bouncing with each step. “actually I think I should sit next to you?” you wanted to be closer to ethan. “oh yeah sure, you can sit next to me if you want.” ethan replied with hope still in his mind that you are the slightest bit of attracted to him.

“yeah I forgot my laptop.” ouch that hurt. “oh yeah you want to sit next to me so we can share my laptop.” he nods as the hope that he had vanished but actually you just wanted to be close to him. you move next to him on the couch, getting closer and closer so you can “see the screen”

as you got closer and closer ethan felt his cheeks heat up. “I’m sorry, am I too close?” you said with your eyelashes fluttering at him. “uhm no, get uh as close as you need to.” ethan says, stumbling over his words. after a couple of minutes of silence Ethan notices you shivering a little bit which made his heart swell up to the thought of your discomfort, it’s not like you can get anymore closer to him because you two were basically hip to hip. “hey are you cold- here let me just.” you felt a arm slide onto your shoulders making you warm up a bit.

“is this comfy?” ethan says, voice laced with concern. you nodded. silence washed over the two of you and you can’t bear the tension anymore so you did the unthinkable and placed your hand on ethan’s thigh, hoping you’ll get to your goal. ethan felt a hand on his thigh and instantly sucked in his breath at the feeling. “a-are you hands still cold or something b-because your hand is pretty close to my uh cock.” ethan stutters while staring at your hand that was close to his erection.

“I’m sorry, is this fine?” you replied, acting like your gesture wasn’t intentional. “oh no no it’s fine it’s just uh your hand is pretty close to my erection a-and I don’t want it to uh shock you- oh now your touching it.” he says changing the subject once he felt you actually touch his bulge. ethan’s breathing starts to change and beads of sweat starts to form on his forehead. you see his facial expressions and instantly think that you fucked up, fuck he probably think I’m some sexual assaulter.

“t-that actually feels pretty good.” he breaths out and relief washes over you. you start to realize what you were feeling was pretty big making your eyes widen at the feeling. “a-all that is your erection?” no fucking way. “yes all that is my erection.” he replied with a gulp of his throat. then without thinking you asked, “c-can I see it?” ethan’s face turns beet red at your choice of words.

“y-you want to see it?” ethan says in disbelief. you just nod, not trusting your mouth anymore. “um well I guess you can see it.” he says, slightly nervous. he’s nervousness makes you a bit uneasy but it clicks in your brain, “are you a virgin?” ethan instantly babbles words. “what?! no I’m not completely a virgin.” what does he mean by “not completely a virgin”

“what do you mean by not completely a virgin?” you say, making air quotes with your fingers. “what do I mean? uh I uh tried with a few girl but uh my dick is just so big that I could never get more than just the tip in.” right when he said that you bursted out laughing. “are your joking?” you laughed while ethan says “no I’m not joking- why are you laughing.” you thought ethan was trying to be cocky with you but he wasn’t joking the slightest.

“so im not a virgin, s’just no one has been able to take it all before but uhm you still want to see it?” ethan says with you following with a nod. ethan puts his hand on his belt but pauses to say one more thing, “just don’t laugh, m’kay?” ethan says waiting for a confirmation, you mumbled something along the lines of scouts honor then tells him to get on with it. the sounds of a buckle unbuckling fills your ear as you watch ethan unbuckle his pants, he lift his hips to shove down his pants but waits a little to pull down his boxers, he takes off his boxers, he’s cock springs out of his boxers on it's own, slapping the skin of his stomach, you stared in awe.

“don’t laugh.” he says but noticed your lack of words, he’s huge. “s-see this is why I knew this wasn’t going to be a good idea.” ethan says and start to pull his boxers back up only for you to quickly stop him. your next words blows him away (pun intended) “I want to suck on it.” you say without thinking. “w-well you’re more than welcome to- AUH.” he didn’t have to tell you twice, your lips wrap around his head, sucking hard as your tongue flicks over his weeping slit. “oh god, you’re so good at that.” he groaned as you smirk up at him, before your head bobs down

“fuck that’s amazing.” he whimpers as the sounds of your mouth and spit clashing together fills the dorm room, thank god his roommate was away. “please don’t try to- shit- take it all.” ethan pleads. you then pulled away to let him know you were going to deepthroat him and of course he insisted that you shouldn’t. “it’s okay you don’t have t- SHIT.” you cut him off by pushing your head all the way down until your nose nestled against the light brown bush at his pelvis. his whimpers and moans increases every two seconds.

“f-fuck i can feel the back of your throat.” he grunts. every once in a while he’ll let out fuck baby or take that cock. later on you went to the extreme of fucking your face which he really insisted on not doing because he didn’t want to hurt you but soon enough he complied. “fuck you like this, don’t you?” you hun in response, sending vibrations through his cock making him extra simulation. soon enough his moans turns into m’gonna cum’s but you instantly stopped.

ethan eyes shot open. “why’d you stop, I’ve always wanted to cum down someone’s throat before.” he huffs in frustration but you had a better idea. “I want to sit on it.” you say, boldly. “oh? well uhm- no it’s just too big, I’ve tried this before and it’s just too big.” he says but you were already in the process of taking your pants off. “awe no don’t take your pants off, this is a bad idea but..” he trails off once he sees you bra. “well I guess you can try but s’just- just too bi- gosh you’re so wet.” you we’re fully naked next to him. “um before we start, can I just play with your pussy first?” he says softly while staring at you. you were sitting next to him with you legs apart, slightly leaned against the couch all comfortable.

“here- why don’t I just stroke my cock while I..” he trailes off to slide his his head down your stomach and onto your swelling clit. “you like that?” he says after hearing your whimpers followed with a nod. “I uh had to get good this- playing with the clit, swirling, flicking, rubbing so just uh lay your head on my shoulder.” he says and you complied, laying your head on his shoulder while he stroked his cock and play with your clit at the same time. soon enough he begins to slip a finger inside, saying how good it feels. “are you getting close? would two fingers help?” you instantly nod before his begins to slide another finger in but you needed more. “more please.” you whimpered.

“uhm you can try to get on it but I don’t th- FUCK.” you straddled him and guided his cock to you soggy cunt, pressing him in. you pussy sucks him in inch by inch. “just tell me if it’s too mu- holy shit it’s going all the way in fuck.” he watches as your pussy takes him whole and bottoms out. he babbles about how amazing you are as you start bouncing on him with a visible bulge poking out your belly. sounds of skin and fluids slapping together fills the room as your tits bounced in his face. his hands comes around to grab your ass and hips like he’s guiding you. “gosh you’re so beautiful- fuck.” he says before his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

“yes yes yes fuck!” you yelped but still being mindful that you’re in a dorm. suddenly you feel ethan stop you. “wait wait, can we do it doggy, I want to see my dick going in and out of you.” his filthy words made your pussy clench making him wince. you gave him the okay and he turned you around on the couch. he aligned himself back to your pussy before pushing it in. “fuck you’re amazing.” he mumbled underneath his breath as he bottoms out. he grabbed your hips to start thrusting and you were close again. “fuck are you close again? please cum.” he pleads, bringing his hand around to play your clit to simulate you more. “shit ethan fuck!” you yell into the couch pillow which was muffling most of your cries. after a couple of good, pounding thrust a wave of ecstasy washes over you as ethan walks you through your orgasm with his along the way.

“fuck I’m close.” three words he thought he would never say with a girl. after two thrusts he cums in you, cum painting your walls. “I came in you, is that okay?” he says whilst trying to catch his breath. you couldn’t speak so you mumbled an uh uh of approval. he then turns you around and pulls you in a long awaited kiss with his hands around your waist and yours around his neck.

“be mine.” he whispered in you ear. you grinned.

-

[fairytsuk1]

alexis would actually be a protective bf

protective bf alex ...

I KNOW RIGHT. he is so protective of you it's insane. i think he doesn’t come out about your relationship solely because he's so protective of you. like that man does not play about you!!

he definitely isn't comfortable leaving you alone with other streamers. it's not you, it's them! he doesn't know their intentions or what they're thinking but he won't stand for it.

"everyone knows you're this sexy, smart, funny woman and i don't trust them not to be little freaks towards you," he grumbles with his face in your neck.

"aren't some of these people supposed to be your friends, 'lex?"

"...you shouldn't change subjects when i'm talking, you know!"

i think this also falls a bit into his casual dominance. he just really wants to take care of you by any means possible. he walks on the sidewalk side closest to the street. he lets you go ahead of him in line so he can be your bodyguard behind you. he always keeps an eye on your drink even when you aren't!

it's not even that he's perfect, but he's too hard on himself and cares too much about you to let even the slightest bad thing happen.

"how come you do all these things, alex? like," you cuddle closer to him. "you're just so sweet and caring for me, you know?"

"ya sabes que estoy enamorado de ti y quiero hacer cualquier cosa para hacerte feliz. no hagas preguntas estúpidas, mi amor."

[portgasmalia]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 ﹙including: flame emperor sabo, trafalgar law, portgas d. ace﹚ ﹙theme: super duper fluffy stuff & second paragraph turns into pure smut, mdni!!﹚

flame emperor sabo

sabo’s soft thumb caressed the skin right underneath your bottom lip. the small crinkle traced by his badly cut fingernail while his dilated pupils glistened with curiosity. he witnessed most of the reactions, and yet, above all he loved to experience new, lingering touches. but this current moment repeated itself since the confession of feelings started. sabo has always been a more gentle man behind closed doors than shown in the eye of the public. your chin propped up on the side of his pointer finger, tilting your head slightly back to steady the intensity of the eye contact. just a simple kiss, a quick peck, seemed impossible for sabo. he wanted the entire experience. watch how the shade of strawberry pink spread across the span of your cheeks, how you resisted the urge to chew on the soft skin of your lip while waiting for sabo to make a move. oh, he loved seeing you fall apart with the slightest touch of his gloveless fingers before his soft rose-colored lips pecked yours. so quickly, awaiting the begging for more because the flame emperor, the revolutionary was a devilish man hidden behind the gentle face of a blonde angel.

— mdni!! nsfw content

sabo knew perfectly which buttons to push to edge you closer to the second orgasm tonight. one was simply an insult to his skilled fingers and seductive tactics. eyes wide open and focused on the way yours fluttered close with each deep thrust of his hips. holding up his weight with his right underarm, sabo placed his left hand underneath your chin. the same position he loved to have you in when not being inside of you. skin slapping against skin echoed through the room, and the tip of the revolutionary’s thumb brushed over your bottom lip. ever so lightly, sabo pushed his thumb into the warmth of your mouth, freeing your plush bottom lip from the assault of your teeth. “don’t do that,” the blonde fire user muttered, punctuating his demand with a particularly harsh thrust. slender fingers underneath your chin pushed slightly, tilting your head further into the neck. a chance to glance at your almost-closed eyes while approaching another orgasm. “the sight makes it so fucking hard to control myself but we do have all night,” he chuckled quietly but was consumed by devilish thoughts while increasing the rhythm of his waist. multiple orgasm were the challenge, and hell, you should have not teased him as much as you did.

trafalgar d. water law

nose deeply in the books he carried out of the last library, reading about the myths of the world, and the stories other people told on the pages until the doctor would tell his own. always so busy with the books, the folders, his own notes. so when you burst into his office, attempting to gain his attention or lure him outside on the deck to celebrate a little bit with the crew, law could read your intentions without having to glance at you. so when you stood in front of him, almost too shy to even ask, law used the book in sheets in his hand to help you raise your head and glance at him. pages tightly together, stapled above one another., the upper margins of the book in sheets placed carefully underneath your chin. edges slightly pushed to the inside with his sprawled out hand, and pushing upwards to tilt your head. you knew it was the east way, the soft way of law’s demands to make eye contact. the dust of a sweet cherry red which covered your cheeks forced a thin but small smile on his lips before leaning forward with a quiet chuckle and pecking your chewed up lips as a gesture to greet you in his personal bubble. the only person, right next to bepo, he would allow to walk in without permission.

— nsfw content ahead!! mdni!!

it was a certain surprise when law’s behavior changed in the sheets. he still kept the dominance, he still set the pace. but being on top of you, feeling the sweaty palms of your soft hands explore his chest every single time, it triggered a rather soft side of the doctor to step out. you weren’t scratching, your fingertips carefully traced the tattoo of his jolly roger repeatedly. fingers of his unused hand intertwined with yours, reveling in the warmth and tightness of your gummy walls. the lingering gaze drifted from your eyes down to your lips. the quivering of your bottom one, the way your teeth dragged so harshly across the soft skin while the attempt to suppress a whiny moan failed. the tip of his sharp nose nudged yours multiple times. two to three to get your attention and convince you to open your lids again. once you did, he guided your head upward before his chapped lips found your puffy ones. there was no need to use his hands if he could once in a while show the soft side, he allowed to surface in your presence. not all the time, but enough to show the deep and meaningful emotions he had for you. even while his hips snapped so harshly against yours, and the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the bedroom, law visited not so often. "you're mine, love," he would mutter between deep, almost inaudible groans.

portgas d. ace

there are two ways which only differ slightly and it easily depends on the mood he's in. coming back from a mission after being unable to see your beautiful face for weeks, ace is a tad softer with his touches. calloused palms of his hands placed on each side of your face. little finger along your jaw, the rough pad of his thumb stroking along your smiling lips, taking in each twist and turn in your beautiful features. oh, how he remembered the details so clearly, dreamt of them every night. the first touch is so sweet, so loving. almost leaving traces of admiration along the sharp line of your jaw. but then there's also the second way, ace would hold your face. extremely warm hands placed almost exactly the same, but the calloused palm pushed your cheeks further together. you would immediately know that the fire fist drowned any sorrows in multiple glasses of booze. since the whitebeard pirates loved a good, old feast to celebrate any given day, ace was mostly under the influence of the alcoholic liquid, and acted rather with soft humor than gentle honesty.

— nsfw content ahead!! mdni!!

ace might love to show you how much he loved and adored you, but in ways that weren't exactly described as gentle or soft. pounding into you harshly, the loud sound of skin slapping against skin boomed off the walls of the second division commander's room. as the second division commander of the whitebeard pirates, ace was always involved in trouble, always wanting to help each of his friends so badly, it turned into a day full of stress. and all he needed was being inside of you. gummy walls squeezing his thick dick ever so tightly. but it always ended with you underneath his towering body. legs thrown over his shoulders as he pounded into you. one hand used to keep his weight mostly off your body, the other hand is placed around your jaw. left side, his fingers squeezed the skin of your cheek and on the right side, the thumb mirrored the same gesture. mouth squeezed together, it looked like you prepared so perfectly to take his hard dick between your lips again, and it almost made him cum with the next thrust. instead, ace leaned down, placing his lips against yours and holding you in place while increasing the pace and harshness.

[lemmetreatya]

The ways they like to tease you during sex | JJK Men

ft. gojo satoru, geto suguru, sukuna, toji fushiguro, nanami kento

content: NSFW, afab reader, m! pen, smut, cowgirl position, doggy, backshots, cumshots, orgasm denial

💠 gojo 💠

loves a good long intentional stroke to piss you off. he knows your usual pace and what angles quickest alight you but when hes trying to play with you — to make you grapple at his back and whine for him to do it properly — he’ll pretend that he’s trying to savour the time.

“I just want to make love to you.”

lies. literally all lies, because this wasn’t love making in the slightest. this was gojo being a pest and purposely missing that squidgy spot that will get you clawing at his skin and crying his name for all neighbouring walls to hear.

it’s only when things get too much that you start to rut yourself down on the man, aiming to get your own high and in the end that always sets gojo off. teasing you is fun, but succumbing to your lust is better.

💠 geto 💠

being the control freak he is, geto would make sure he denies you any room to push him around or demand something from him. he’d have you; ass in the air, face down into the pillow and hands held behind your back.

“gu-guru!”

he’d fuck into you, backshots sounding like assaults on skin as he denies you any form of movement. he knows you’re itching to hang off of him or take him into your arms but geto denies you all forms of contact. he can hear you mumble detest into the pillow but the smile on his face is sick as he teases you.

“can’t hear you. speak up.”

geto changes up pace and quality every now and then but knowing you cant do anything about it, all you do is moan and whimper in retaliation.

💠 sukuna 💠

he’ll refuse to touch you in sensitive places. sukuna isn’t much of a passionate lover — he likes things harsh and full of pure lust. but he knows your wants and desires, maybe a bit more than you do, yet he’ll deny you them perks simply because he wants to be a pain.

“kuna, come on…”

he could easily fuck you and not pinch at your nipples, swipe at your clit or kiss at your neck. sukuna’s go to is to be selfish. it doesn’t matter if your whining at him to touch you. the man will only wear a wicked smile as he uses you as a personal fleshlight. easily, he can be finish inside of you and not give you any sort of relief.

but sukuna knows that you dont allow him to stay that way for long. you’ll hiss and spit curses at him for attempting to leave you hanging but the de-man seems privy only to your reprimand. he doesn’t fear you, but he’ll be very sure not to get on your bad side and therefore finish what he started.

💠 toji 💠

being a pain is something hes doing more of than not but if toji wants to tease you because he thinks you’re on too much of a high horse, he’ll appear bored in front of you as you ride his cock.

“Who the fuck are you texting?”

the blue light of his mobile phone will illuminate over his stout face, completely disregarding your intentions to bounce over his dick. what’s even more amusing is the fact that you know he’s probably not even texting anyone because the fuckers such a loner — he literally only hangs out with you. you’ll end up swivelling on him, never allowing him to exit you but you lean forward so you could witness what he was playing at. it was only candy crush.

“so lame…” you’ll mumble, because you know he’s only doing it to fuck with you.

having no phone in his hand, toji rolls his eyes but ends up placing his hands onto the dips of your hips.

“maybe dont be such a bitch next time.” he’ll grumble

💠 nanami 💠

kento isnt usually one for teasing but when he does it’s because he’s trying to get a rise out of you. mostly if it’s because you dont keep to schedule or do something overtime — kento hates having to wait and so in turn, he’ll make you wait.

“ken, please. just touch me.”

the man will sit on the edge of the bed, cock standing tall, red and leaking at the tip but he’d still deny you, even at the expense of himself.

“I’ve told you about making me wait.”

he’d look to his watch on his hands.

“five minutes.”

“kento, please!”

he’s already have given you a taste, wet his cock within you — only a handful of strokes — before dutifully pulling out and moving himself away from you. he wasnt one to play with when it came to time keeping. the man kept a tight schedule and anything over the threshold was detrimental and so here you were, learning that lesson.

you’d pander your own hand down to your leaking cunt, the juices already puddling at the base of your folds but nanami would slap your hand away.

“I said wait.”

yes, he made you wait, but it only meant the reward was a lot better and definitely worth it.

[fazedlight]

Lois (inspired by this fic by @luthordamnvers and @snowydragonscave)

Can I trust a Luthor?, Lois thought.

The fight had already begun, drawing the entire staff of The Daily Planet to the building’s windows. The battle between Superman and the mysterious figure might simply be another Tuesday in Metropolis…

Before the sky turned red.

Lois’s finger itched at the scrap of paper in her hands, a note attached to a flower delivery, written in a messy scrawl. “In the darkest hour, the answer is at the top of the Planet.”

Lois glanced to Perry White, to James, feeling the notable absence of Clark. Can I trust a Luthor?, she asked herself again, her sensibilities warring against Lena Luthor for being from the wrong family, for being too young, for… this is bullshit, Lois thought.

She turned on her heel, darting across the room without much notice, jerking open the stairwell door before bounding the three flights up to the roof of the Daily Planet. Yanking a bobby pin from her hair, she quickly unlocked the security door - a practiced habit, from her occasional secret smoke breaks - and made her way onto the roof.

She approached the giant sphere, THE DAILY PLANET boldly imprinted along its side, as her eyes scoured over the globe’s infrastructure. It didn’t take her long to notice the slightest edge of a box hidden at the very base - somewhere that someone would only look if they had need to.

She yanked at the box, throwing a quick look over her shoulder as the rapidly dimming skies contrasted with the blasts of green echoing along the clouds. Farmboy’s running out of time, she thought, ripping at the box until she came to folded metal.

That’s when she grinned. Daughter of an army general, Lois knew her way around a weapon. She was almost gleeful as she snapped together the clever telescoped rifle, the back of her mind admiring its sleek construction - despite the bulky payload - as she briefly fantasized about shooting Lex Luthor out of the sky. 

But as she turned, settling onto the building ledge to steady her weapon, her eye caught on the note attached to the scope. “Aim for the S”, it said.

Lois tilted her head curiously, feeling a wave of realization, hearing Lena’s words in her ear. “Lex is my brother and I love him, but I can't stand and do nothing.” 

Lois turned again to the sky, watching as Superman faltered, as the hero struggled to stay in the air, dodging more attacks as the sunlight shifted a darker red. It’s now or never, Lois said, knowing somewhere in her soul that Lena was out to do the right thing. She adjusted her aim, not lingering given Superman’s movements, carefully squeezing the trigger.

Light burst from the end of the gun, Lois’s eyes widening as the laser split across the sky, cutting through the atmosphere until it landed squarely on the kryptonian’s chest. Lois’s expression shifted to a smile as Superman’s entire frame changed, power roaming through his posture, like air filling his lungs. He surged forward again, throwing the mysterious figure across the sky like a ragdoll, continuing to chase after the attacker with new vigor. 

Lois turned up to the sky again, watching the eclipse continued on, hearing sonic boom after sonic boom as the battle raged in the distance. Until finally, light began streaming again, yellow sunlight brushing her face in welcomed relief. 

She smiled again, turning to pack the gun back into the box, intent to leave it where she had found it so that her Little Luthor benefactor could later retrieve it. Thanks, Lena, she thought. 

She heard a clamor behind her, the heavy steps of a familiar photojournalist running her way. James watched as Lois shoved a box beneath the Planet’s globe again, before she rose, dusting herself off, making her way back towards the roof door.

“What did you do?” James asked incredulously as she brushed past him.

It was a simple answer. “I shot Superman.”

[underdark-dreams]

[ch1] - [ch2] - [ch3]

A Strand to Climb - Ch.4

The morning before everything changes, Rolan and Tav wake up together.

Tags: Smut, Fluff, Confessions, NSFW | Word Count: 4,409 [Read on AO3]

A low grumble of thunder brought her gently from sleep. The sounds of rain floated back to her ears; the downpour had slowed to a steady shower during the night.

Against her back, Tav felt the steady rise and fall of Rolan’s chest. His arm had curled around her to tuck his hand between her ribcage and the mattress.

She opened her eyes toward the shuttered window of Rolan’s room. It was after the city guard had snuffed the streetlamps, but before the first light of dawn—a time when the darkness outside was deepest. The room around them was blanketed with it. Despite the hour, she found her mind surprisingly clear. The two of them had drifted off before sunset, after all. 

As she lay there listening to him breathe under the soft patter of rain, guilt gnawed its way into her chest. She shouldn’t have fallen asleep so easily—not without saying everything she came here to say. The Nightsong, Dame Aylin, the truth behind those runes in Lorroakan’s study.

If only she didn’t have such a damn soft spot in her heart for anything that concerned Rolan. 

He had made getting to the point so difficult. Growing defensive at the slightest question; glancing at her from under his wet hair with that bedraggled yet defiant look in his eye. He was entirely too good at coaxing her off track, and he didn’t even know it.

Tav huffed a sigh into the pillow. When he woke, she had to tell him everything about his master’s plans. She wasn’t sure if she’d get another chance before everything crashed around their ears.

At the sound, Rolan’s fingers fidgeted slightly where they were pressed under her chest. Something about the motion struck her as deliberate.  

“Are you asleep?” She whispered into the dark.

There was a momentary pause. “No.” His words ghosted behind her ear, sending the most pleasant shiver down her spine.

She turned back toward him on the pillow. He read her intentions and dipped his head down toward hers without a word.

Their blind aim was slightly off—Rolan’s lips landed at the corner of her mouth, but they quickly found one another. Their lips notched together.

She told herself she just couldn’t help it. At a time when so much was uncertain and painful and difficult, kissing Rolan was the easiest thing. It required no thought; it was right.

Tav shifted her arm from under her to reach for his face, and her fingers met unexpected skin on the way. Curious, she reached out to explore and brushed across the bare, textured planes of his shoulders.

“Your shirt?”

Rolan kissed her a few more times. “You're very warm,” he explained.

She grinned lazily against his lips. “We didn't have to sleep so close, you know. I can give you some room—”

“No—” Rolan’s hand flew from her rib cage to land firmly below her navel, pressing her back to him, as if she might actually leave. “Don't you dare.”

It was insistent, and combined with the warmth of his palm on her belly, Tav melted back into the kiss. He was a fool if he thought anything could take her away right now.

Their lips turned soft against each other—then seeking, then hungry. His warm breath fanned out over her cheek as his nose brushed hers. Her hand curled to find its mark at the nape of his neck. Though he’d called her warm, Rolan’s skin was positively heated against her.

It made an ache settle between her legs. When she shifted slightly at the feeling, she found that he was already hard against the small of her back. She made an impatient sound against his mouth and abruptly kicked off the covers.

“Touch me,” she implored.

“Gods, yes—”

At his soft assent, Rolan’s hand quickly slid from her belly to seek the hem of her borrowed shirt, tugging it up past her flanks. 

As he did his nails skated along the skin of her thighs, and the sensation sent another flush of heat diving between them. She rolled her hips with a soft noise of anticipation.

He moved eagerly at the sound. His hand gently nudged her thighs open, dipping a single finger to swipe slickly up her folds. Her mouth parted in a satisfied inhale.

Rolan’s chin fell against the crook of her neck with a groan, and she felt the sound ring sweetly between her shoulder blades. But he moved a second finger across her, circling and teasing her slit at a pace that was almost maddeningly deliberate.

When the pads of his fingertips traveled up to brush her clit, her hips bucked into him in reflex. Tav’s hand flew back impulsively behind her head, where it met with one of his curving horns. She gripped hard. 

“Gods, your hands,” she whispered. “More—”

She’d imagined Rolan’s fingers many nights alone in her tent—nights when she had only her own for company. Her imagination was nothing compared to the feel of him softly exploring her. Though tentative at first, he proved shockingly dextrous, with a control of pace and pressure that stoked the ache between her legs to a white-hot band of heat stretching tight at her core.

She’d never spared much thought for the fringe benefits of Rolan’s training. Right now—as his fingers worked a stroking rhythm across her clit, intently following her breathless directions—she thanked every god in the pantheon for his dedication to his craft.

While she panted and whined under his touch, Rolan’s other arm had curled between the pillows to cradle her neck. When he hit a pace that made a low moan rise in her throat, Rolan’s free hand touched softly over her lips. Reminding her that others were sleeping nearby.

It wasn’t fair; she wanted him to hear exactly what he did to her. Just how badly she wanted him.

He seemed to sense her desperation regardless. Rolan’s palm fit more firmly over her mouth; he flattened the hand between her legs to grind and rub her center insistently. She moaned against his hand, letting her leg fall slack. His tail had already coiled tight around her thigh to keep her spread open for him.

Pressure clenched and built rapidly inside her from the sudden friction, and she was so close, so close—don’t stop, don’t stop, please please please—she wanted to moan, cry, scream out his name. Her world focused down to the pinpoint of Rolan’s fingers grinding against her oversensitive bundle of nerves—

She came hard again his hand, hips spasming and thighs clenching around his fingers. The sinews of his forearm flexed against her stomach as Rolan continued working her through her climax, his movements almost frantic, until he tipped her over the edge to overstimulation. 

With a shuddering gasp against his palm, the hand not grasping his horn like a lifeline closed around his wrist to ease him off her twitching core. His hand slid to rest over her trembling thigh instead, leaving a wet print of her own arousal on her skin.

She could only pant and squeeze her eyes shut against the darkness as tears pricked at the corners. His breath behind her was just as ragged, tickling the curve of her neck as he kissed across the exposed skin there.

“Gods…” she panted. His hand had released her mouth, settling across her clothed chest instead. “I always wondered…if you'd be good at that.”

Rolan’s teeth gently fastened over her shoulder in a biting kiss. “Somatic component,” he murmured against her flesh.

It was just absurd enough, just enough of the old cockiness she used to expect from him. A breathless laugh rose in her throat.

“You absolute wizard,” she scolded him, too sated to do anything else. Rolan only curled his arms and tail further around to hold her. She half expected a comment about how much she’d clearly enjoyed it, but his face lay quietly against the side of her neck.

Through her settling haze, she could still feel him pressing taut against her lower back. Not that she’d forgotten about him—quite the opposite. A fresh desire was already coursing through her, only spurred on by seeing him the past few days. Something she’d wanted to do since the first night he visited her tent for those innocent kisses. 

Using an old sparring move, she hooked one leg behind his knees and deftly flipped their bodies to land straddled on top of him. There was shocked silence from the spot where Rolan’s head had landed on the pillow. 

She took advantage of his surprise to capture Rolan’s lips again. It was a proper kiss this time, deep and heated, and she moaned when her tongue found the delicate points of his canines. 

She kept herself braced high on her arms, cautious not to press against any of the bruised spots she recalled glimpsing on his chest as he changed clothing.

Cautious too not to brush against him below the waist. From the hungry way his tongue explored her mouth, she knew he was stiffer than ever.

Instead she lowered herself carefully along the crook of his side, feeling Rolan’s palm slide up under her shirt and across the bare skin of her back. It left a trail of heat in its wake.

“Let me taste you,” she said against the point of his ear. 

Rolan’s breath audibly caught in his throat. She occupied herself with kissing along his ear tip until he gave a jerking nod.

As she dipped to his neck, his throat vibrated against her lips as Rolan spoke a low incantation. A ring of pale little flames swirled into existence on the ceiling above them. 

Tav raised her head to blink up at them, then to Rolan’s now-illuminated face. He wetted his lips with a nervous flick of his tongue.

“I want to watch you,” he confessed hoarsely. 

The words were somehow shy and lewd all at once, and they made desire coil through her stomach. For a moment she considered changing tactics and mounting him right there.

But the anticipation of watching what this might do to him was stronger. She hummed in approval against Rolan’s collar bone, shifting to kneel between his legs and continue her lips’ journey down his torso. 

His chest was beautiful—patterned with mesmerizing trails of little ridges along his shoulders, his ribcage, dipping down over the sides of his hips. 

“You’re so lovely,” she said against his ribs. Rolan squirmed quietly under her, but one of his hands rose to tangle in her hair.

She’d never had time to appreciate these parts of him properly before tonight. Now, for every scratch or bruise she discovered by the light of his spell, she placed several soft kisses. 

Part of her could tell he felt teased. But he deserved every one—he deserved to be adored, to be touched with gentleness like this. 

Rolan’s breath quickened as she made her way to the dip beside his hip bone, a sensitive spot where her lips now met with soft, smooth skin. As she kissed over him, her cheek brushed inadvertently against the straining hardness in his pants. 

Rolan drew air sharply between his teeth as his cock twitched beside her face; sharp nails clenched against her scalp. Impatient hunger bloomed in her, and she leaned back to hastily unfasten his trousers and strip them off.

When his bare legs straightened on either side of her again, she leaned in to deftly run her tongue up his ridged underside.

Rolan’s head tipped back with a quiet groan, his horns pressing into the pillows behind him. 

It was so tempting to just watch him come undone from her touch like that. But even stronger was her desire to make Rolan see stars with her mouth alone.

She closed her eyes and focused on working him over. She sucked him past her lips, keeping her pace slow and deliberate as she slid up and down over his tip with the flat of her tongue, over and over. She could practically feel the heavy rise and fall of his chest above her.

When she widened her mouth to take him in more fully, Rolan’s hand pulled away from her hair to stifle a moan against the skin of his knuckles.

Tav knew he was trying like hells to keep himself as quiet as possible. But she wished she could hear every starved moan and whimper her mouth wrung from him. The desire to draw those sounds from him was too strong to resist.

She began taking his cock even deeper with each rhythmic dip of her head. He was so impossibly hard; an ache settled in her jaw, only spurring her on. The ridges at his base grew slick with saliva, and each time her lips slid over them was more delicious than the last. 

When she added in a swirl of her tongue at the end of each motion, Rolan cursed and whined against his hand. His other scrabbled to find purchase in the sheets beneath them. Something firm and smooth circled her waist—anchoring himself with his sensitive tail.

She clenched her thighs together under her at his reactions, feeling wet arousal pool between them again at the way he was unraveling under her.

She quickly moved her hands’ support from the mattress to clutch the ridges over his hips for greater control. With a few more teasing flicks of her tongue over his tip, she felt Rolan’s restraint begin slipping completely. His hips thrust up reflexively to follow the pace of her mouth.

“Tav, I’m—not in your—” 

She glanced up without slowing her rhythm over his cock. Rolan panted as his golden eyes blazed down at her, his features screwed up in a deliciously desperate way, fingers shaking as they reached forward as if to tug her mouth off him.

With all her strength, she grabbed his wrists and pinned them down into the mattress on either side. She closed her eyes again to take him as deeply as possible, tasting a hint of salt at the back of her throat, and hollowed her cheeks to squeeze tightly around his cock as she pumped her mouth over him.

The lights above them abruptly snuffed out. Through the sudden darkness, she heard Rolan fighting to bite back a strangled sound from his throat. 

Then Rolan’s hands clenched to tight fists under hers as he released in her mouth. Hot spend painted the roof of her mouth, much more of it than she’d anticipated—she fought to swallow him down without choking. 

But the taste of him, the way his hips clenched and jerked against her lips—she could feel him come like this a thousand times under her and never tire of it. She stayed there until his twitching cock finally relaxed against her tongue. 

Then she released him with a smooth, wet sound, sitting back on her heels and wiping the back of a hand across her mouth.

Rolan breathed as though he’d just run a mile. His arms and legs were spread limp on the mattress, while his tail had loosened to a single loop resting atop her hips. She couldn’t make out his expression in the dark, but she let herself imagine it anyway—eyes staring up at the ceiling, glassy-eyed, jaw slack. On another plane of existence.

Without a word, she slid up to notch herself back against his side and nuzzle into his shoulder. His usually clean scent mingled with sweat and arousal; she found it intoxicating, and breathed deeply along the crook of his neck.

“No one’s ever done that for me before.” From beside her face, the confession was almost inaudibly quiet.

Tav raised her head from his shoulder to peer at him through low light. Rolan’s eyes were squeezed shut with little creases at the corners, as if he couldn’t bear to meet her gaze after speaking that aloud. 

She leaned in to place a long kiss on one of his eyelids. “I want to do that for you every day, if you’ll let me.” 

Rolan didn’t open his eyes; his arms circled her back to pull her firmly down against him. She immediately feared the pressure on his injured chest must be painful. But he only buried his face along her hair, placing his lips at the hollow beneath her ear.

“Then stay with me,” Rolan said against her skin. “I don’t want to watch you leave again, Tav. I’m done saying goodbye.”

He could be breathtakingly direct. Tav found her heart hammering against her ribs before her mind had even absorbed the full implication of his words.

For the first time since she awakened on that beach, surrounded by alien wreckage, she found her thoughts turning to the quiet of living. Not surviving, not fighting, not searching for a cure. Just the pleasant thought of the life she might find after it was all over. A life that included him.

“I want to stay, too.” The words rose from her throat like they’d been stuck there for months. “I don’t want to leave Baldur’s Gate again, Rolan, I don’t want to leave you—”

His lips were on hers again, blocking out the flow of words before she could say anything else. 

“I know I don’t deserve to ask you to wait, but I swear—just give me a few years and I’ll make a name for myself, I’m sure of it—I’ll convince Master Lorroakan to let us all live at the Tower together—”

Rolan was alternately rambing and pressing his lips over her jaw, her cheeks, her lips, his thoughts tumbling out almost ahead of his words.

As she let him go on, a deep sigh escaped her chest. Yet another absolutely perfect moment invaded by inconvenient reality. 

He grew very still against her. “What is it?”

“Rolan, listen…we need to talk about the Nightsong.”

—

By the time she finished, the first light of day was peeking through the window shutters and casting the room in fuzzy tones of gray. The colors of the dawn suggested a clear, bright morning was following on the heels of the storm.

“That profane bastard,” Rolan said up to the ceiling.

Tav watched him break his silence from her spot propped on an elbow beside him. Rolan had let her get out the full tale without speaking a word; he’d only watched her intently with his flame-gold eyes.

She told him about the Shadowfell, Balthazar’s necromancy, the Nightsong and Dame Aylin being one and the same. The secret of Ketheric’s immortality, and Lorroakan’s obvious plans to continue where an objectively more powerful man had failed. 

The Elder Brain at least she omitted for now—let him deal with one shock at a time.

As she waited for him to process it all, her eyes traveled anxiously over Rolan’s upturned face. “What are you thinking?”

“That I always thought he was a monster,” Rolan mused. His expression was soberly pensive. “As long as I didn’t see the full extent of it for myself, I supposed I could deny it. But I shouldn’t have given him the benefit of doubting. No good man beats his own student.”

At the words, she felt a surge of pride so strong that she wanted to grip his shoulders and shake him. She restrained herself to grabbing his jaw for a swift kiss.

“You’re right,” she said firmly. “The people who love you have felt the same for a long time.”

Rolan’s face fell at her words. “I owe Lia an apology,” he admitted abruptly.

“She only wants you to be safe and happy, Rolan. She’s been as worried for you as anyone.”

“I know—” The bridge of his nose wrinkled with discomfort. “That’s what makes it so damn difficult.”

They lay together for another quiet moment as the sounds of the waking city slowly built outside their room. She rested her cheek against him, tracing a thumb over the Infernal ridges along his sternum.

“There’s going to be a fight today,” she warned, stating the obvious, swiveling on her chin to look at him. “Lorroakan wants to soul bind a daughter of Selûne, one who only just escaped from a hundred-year prison. You should've seen what Dame Aylin did to the last man who did the same.”

Rolan considered that for a moment. 

“Then I suppose first of all, we should tell her,” he decided resolutely. 

Another long pause followed. From the way his fingers traced her back, she wondered if Rolan was filled with the same sense of nervous foreboding. How much easier it would be to stay in this warm bed together and ignore their reality.

Instead, she propped herself back up on an arm. “Let’s get dressed, then.” 

They reluctantly rose from the warm comfort of the blankets to find their clothes. As she stripped Rolan’s shirt up over her head, she caught him eyeing her.

“Don’t tempt me,” she warned.

“You look good in my things,” he defended himself, turning away. “Almost as good as you look out of them.”

Rolan busied himself with magically removing the wrinkles from his robes. It allowed her to grin to herself unnoticed as she pulled on yesterday’s clothes. It was positively stupid how happy he could make her. 

She waited for Rolan to twist his hair half-back in his particular way, then reached for the door.

“Wait—” 

Rolan quickly turned back to grab something from beside the bed—the small pack of scrolls she’d given him last night. He stared down into the bag for a moment, looking a bit like a child impatient to play with a new toy. Then he stowed it safely at the back of the wardrobe and stepped back to her.

In the front room, Lia was already awake and fully dressed at the table. She wore a red and gold surcoat over her leather jerkin, emblazoned with the crest of a hand clenched against fire. This must be one of her first days in the ranks of the Flaming Fist.

She greeted them both with a yawn and pushed the kettle across the table. “Tea?”

“Thanks.” Tav sat to pour a cup—one last bracing comfort before they faced what the day had in store.

Rolan hesitated for a moment, then slid into the chair beside her. Silently, his arm circled her back to rest his palm along her waist.  

Lia caught the gesture. “You two sleep well?” Her eyes were sphinxlike over the edge of her mug. 

“Yeah, we—”

“None of your—”

She and Rolan spoke over each other. Tav cast him an amused look. Did he really expect to keep up a pretense even now, after everything? Rolan cleared his throat.

“Fine,” he told Lia shortly. “The Tower’s cold. It was nice being warm for once.”

Lia grimaced at his expression and held up a hand. “Stop, no more. I’ll have to scrub out my ears till I reach my brain.”

“We’re going to kill Lorroakan today,” Tav added brightly.

There was a stunned pause. Then Lia’s mug hit the table with a smack. “Fucking finally, can I help?”

“Absolutely not,” Rolan warned her, his tone final. “I’ve put you and Cal in enough danger as it is. You’re not to come near the Upper City today, either of you.”

Lia’s brows drew into a suspicious line. She looked back and forth between both of them. “Why now? What’s he done?”

Rolan sat in thought for a moment. “Finally crossed a line.”

“He did that weeks ago,” Lia corrected. To Tav’s surprise, a gloved hand reached out to where Rolan’s lay on the table. It felt like a moment not for her to see.  

Tav rose from under Rolan’s arm to fetch her cloak from beside the fire, making as much noise as possible as she drew it on and settled the creases.

“I'll wait for you outside,” she told Rolan, leaning to place a kiss between his horns. Then she slipped out the door to give them a moment.

As usual, Heapside was awake before the rest of Baldur’s Gate. Nearby at the great south harbor, the shouts between ship crews and dock workers had already settled into a noisy but familiar tune. The street past Cal and Lia’s was filling with a steady stream of people young and old.

Ordinary people waking to ordinary lives. No tadpoles, no Illithid invasions, no all-powerful Elder Brains. No continual threat of some new megalomaniac set on immortal godhood at any cost.

Tav watched them come and go in quiet thought. What on earth would it feel like to join them?

The door latch behind her interrupted those musings.

“You could have stayed,” Rolan told her, immediately reaching for her hand as if it was the most natural thing. She smiled as they took up the path north together. 

“I figure you two haven't had much time to talk.”

“All that’s going to change soon,” Rolan replied. There was a determined spring in his step.

She laughed. “Speak for yourself. I intend to get you to myself quite a bit.”

Rolan’s only response was a low hum as they walked. When she glanced sideways, his cheek was flushed and the corner of his lips curved in an unwilling smile.

When the colorful domed roof of Sorcerous Sundries appeared before them, Tav felt the excitement fade back to a pit of trepidation in her stomach. Beside her, the shine in Rolan’s eyes had dimmed at the sight. She hated to see it, and gave his hand a squeeze.

“Just a few more hours,” she told him quietly.

“I’ll have my spells prepared,” he answered, and there was steel in his voice. He was looking past her now—toward the Upper City, and the glittering spire of Ramazith’s Tower.

“What if he surrenders?” Rolan asked seriously. “Not that I expect his pride to allow it…should we spare him?”

As Tav looked at Rolan’s bruised and marked face in the clear light of morning, she knew exactly what her answer would be.

“It may not be up to us,” was all she admitted.

Then she slanted her face into his for one more kiss. Much as she wanted to linger, she had to prepare for the day—and the conversation with Aylin could wait no longer.

As she turned away north toward the Elfsong, Rolan called after her. “How will I know when?”

“She’s an aasimar,” Tav said over her shoulder. “Trust me, you’ll know.”

[mint-yooxgi]

{10} - Paradise Gardens - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Book Two to Hotel California

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

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on San, and slight focus on Hongjoong, and a bit of Yeosang at the end)

Words: 11,371

Warnings: Mental Illness. PTSD: mentions of past trauma and violence, anxiety, depression. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: I honestly wasn't expecting for this chapter to even be a thing, but I think it's much needed in terms of plot and character development, so I really hope you all enjoy it! Plus, Wooyoung smut next chapter~ 👀 As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.

Mini Masterlist - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine

Standing just outside the entrance to the garden, there’s a certain intensity that lingers on your features. Your eyes remain fixated on the golden handles, practically glaring down at them as your brows furrow in concentration. A slight frown pulls at your lips, but still, you, nor the doors, move.

“Practicing your telekinesis, Baby?” A soft chuckle sounds from behind you.

You blink, but do not respond, opting to continue staring intently at the handles of the door.

“I think Jongho’s blood has long since left your system.” San steps in beside you, amusement tugging his lips upwards in the corners. “Besides, I’m not sure if it would even be capable of giving you such a power.”

“It’s not that,” you sigh, finally shifting your gaze from the door and towards your feet.

Immediately, concern is pulling at his features as his one hand finds purchase on your lower back. “Then, what is it?”

You spare a glance at him out of the corner of your eyes, your shoulders deflating all the while. It’s been two days since Jongho made a full recovery, you having pulled him out of the veil between worlds. You thought it would be a good idea to slowly reintroduce yourself to certain places in the house, but unfortunately, you seem to be having some difficulties. Perhaps starting with the garden was not the wisest decision.

“You’ve been glaring at the door to the garden for the past twenty minutes.” San says, his thumb gently stroking against your back. “If you’re not ready, don’t force yourself-“

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready, San.” Your voice is small, but you still manage to cut him off. “There’s not really a good timeline I can follow. I just don’t want her to have a hold on me any longer. It’s not fair to any of us.”

He smiles assuringly at you. “I understand.”

“I just didn’t realize how difficult it would be.” Again, you avert your gaze to your feet.

“I’m right here, Baby.” His fingers press the slightest bit firmer into your back. “I won’t let anything hurt you. I promise.”

Raising your head, you spare him a small smile. Subconsciously, you lean into his touch.

“What brings you to the garden, anyways?” You decide a slight change in subject might help distract you.

“Me?” His eyebrows quirk upwards slightly. “I came to check on my plants.”

Your eyes widen in genuine surprise. “Your plants?”

“Yes.” He grins, a slight chuckle falling from his lips. “My plants.”

At your quizzical look, he’s quick to shift his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer into his side.

“Fruits, vegetables, you name it,” he tells you. “I grow them all.”

“Really?” 

There’s a genuine curiosity in your voice that he hasn’t heard for quite some time now, which only makes his smile widen. “Would you like to see?”

At your eager nod, San shifts forward, opening the door to the garden and helping you step through the threshold. His arm never leaves your body for one second, guiding you through the flowers and to the greenhouse in the back corner.

You don’t realize how tense you become as soon as you step foot into the garden, but San does. Your eyes flit every which way, taking in all of the details of the once decimated space and noticing how everything looks exactly as it did before Miyeon destroyed it. There’s even a few different types of flowers blooming around the place now, including snapdragons and hyacinths.

Your breath hitches in your throat.

The moment your sight lands on that sparkling fountain in the centre of the garden, you stop breathing. You haven’t even realized that you’ve frozen to your spot, planting your feet firmly on the ground as you stare at that mass monument before you. Only when you see San stepping in front of you, gently guiding your gaze to his own do you register the sudden way your chest heaves with shallow breaths, the male cooing to you all the while.

“It’s okay, Baby.” He assures you lowly, noting the way your gaze continually wants to dart passed him and back to the fountain behind him. 

“Hey, hey, look at me.” His hold is gentle on your arms as he stands before you, and that’s when you realize that you can no longer hear the sound of trickling water echoing throughout the space.

The water hovers there, as if frozen in time, yet not solid like ice. It is suspended in a state of limbo, and you just know that the male standing before you has everything to do with it.

“Just keep your eyes on me, Baby.” He begins to slowly walk backwards, guiding you through the garden and past the fountain. “I’ve got you. I promise nothing will harm you here again.”

You keep your eyes locked on his, the soft brown of his irises peering out at you through a concerned brow.

“That’s it,” gently, he encourages you. “We’re almost there.”

It’s brief, but you still manage to nod. Your breathing seems to be evening out, too.

“You’re doing so well, Baby.” His voice is tender, his hands sliding down your arms in order to hold your own in his. He squeezes them softly. “Just keep your eyes on me.”

Again, you nod, swallowing lightly as you reach the greenhouse.

Shifting both of your hands to his right one, San reaches behind him with the greatest of ease to open the door to the greenhouse. He doesn’t even need to look behind him as he guides you inside, giving your hands another small reassuring squeeze as the door falls shut quietly behind you.

“There,” he smiles. “Safe and sound.”

You smile weakly in return.

“That wasn’t so bad, now, was it?” He gently shakes you hands still held in his own.

“No,” you take a deep breath, the smell of crisp apples, along with various other fruits greeting your senses almost immediately. “I suppose not.”

“I’m so proud of you, Baby.” San’s voice is but a whisper as he brings a hand up to cup the side of your face.

Your eyes flutter shut, leaning into his touch more than you realize.

“Thank you, San.” You breathe out, heart rate finally returning to normal the more time you spend with him like this. “It may not have been perfect for my first try, but I’m glad you’re with me.”

“Of course, Baby,” his thumb strokes tenderly over your cheek. “I will always be here for you; I’m glad I could help.”

A brief silence settles over the both of you as you let the moment linger. Your breathing evens out, shoulders relaxing as he continues to observe you carefully.

“So,” you blink a few times in mild curiosity, attempting not to let your gaze wander too much. “Your plants?”

“Ah, right!” His whole demeanour perks up. “What would you like to see first?”

“Anything and everything you wish to show me.”

The smile that stretches across his face lights up the whole greenhouse. Gently, he shifts his hand back into your own, pulling you along with him as he guides you through a space which appears much larger on the inside than the outside. Certain plants are grouped together based on climate and soil conditions, and you notice the slightest changes in temperature around them. It’s as if those particular sections are weather controlled to be different than the others around them.

Looks like their magic runs deeper than you could have ever imagined.

“I’ve always grown the basics,” he explains, leading you through his vegetable garden. “Sometimes it changes depending on the season, or what we all feel like having, but I always have tomatoes, lettuce, spinach, carrots, zucchini, cucumbers, and bell peppers.”

San takes a moment to crouch down in front of his tomato plants, running his fingers gently over the leaves and pruning a few while he’s at it. Softly, he coos to the fruit, and the small encouragements he seems to give the plants makes you smile.

“How long have you had them?” Your awe filled gaze sweeps over the produce before you, taking in the vibrance of their leaves and the quantity of their fruit.

“Ever since I got into cooking,” he explains, watching you fondly. “So, my whole life.”

“Wow,” you breathe, turning to face him once more. “You’re incredible, Baby!”

Immediately, a vibrant blush begins to creep up his neck, settling onto his cheeks as he stutters in his spot.

“I understand why you have such a vendetta against grocery store produce now,” you chuckle fondly. “You’ve been spoiled with fresh, homegrown food since the beginning.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” he grins. “Just wait until you see the orchard.”

Your entire body freezes, lips parting in mild shock. You blink a few times, the corners of your lips slowly tugging upwards. “You mean to tell me that there’s an orchard inside this greenhouse?”

He nods proudly. “Follow me.”

Again, San gently guides you towards the back of the building, and you notice how there seems to be a separate section placed off to the side. The whole building seems to be shaped like an ‘L’, large windows spanning either side. As soon as you round the corner, the greenhouse opens up into a vast space, all different types of plants continuing to span the area.

“There’s almost one of each kind in their respective rows, but some of the fruit trees we have to make special visitations for.” He explains.

“Special visitations?” You repeat, taking in the large orange tree in front of you.

“Unfortunately, not all plants can be acclimatized to our greenhouse.” A slight frown tugs at his features. “I’m working on making sure they can be, but for now, we have special farms I usually like to visit to get those specific products I’m missing.”

Realization crosses your features. “That’s still really cool.”

“You think so?” He grins, his eyes crinkling at the sides. “I mean, not all the trees in the orchard here are mine, per se.”

You tilt your head at him in inquiry.

“Joong would probably murder me if I touched his lemon tree.” San says. “Well, other than when I harvest the fruit to be used in a recipe. He can never say no to lemon squares.”

“Hongjoong has a lemon tree?” Your eyes scan the rows, seeing a large plant with vibrant yellow fruit hanging from its branches a little ways down the row you’re currently standing in.

“Yes.” San confirms with a nod. “Yeosang grows his own jalapeños, too. Hwa and Yunho are very adamant about caring for the various berries we grow, but I have a few favourites of my own.”

“What are your favourites, then?” The way you look at him, with wide eyes filled with nothing but curiosity, sets his heart racing.

He smiles. “I’ll show you.”

Leading you down the path with a spring to his step, San takes only a single right turn before stopping before a somewhat smaller tree than all the others.

“This one’s a little newer than the rest, but I’ve grown quite fond of it recently.” His eyes trail over the tree in front of him.

Large fruit hang heavily from the branches, very particular in shape. Their pastel pink skin fades into hues of white and orange, soft fuzz coating the sides.

“Peaches?” Your voice is nothing short of tender as you focus on him standing beside you. 

“I’ve taken a fond liking to them recently.” He hums.

“You don’t say,” you grin, almost knowingly. 

A moment later, and your gaze is shifting around the area, noting the other fruit hanging from the branches around you. 

A gasp escapes you as you excitedly waddle over to the tree right before your very eyes, the fruit hanging in abundance in vibrant shades of red, yellow, and green. “Mangos?”

A fond chuckle escapes the male as he walks up beside you. “Would you like one?”

No verbal response is needed. Not when you eagerly shake your head, turning your awe filled gaze to stare deeply into his own eyes.

Your whole body practically vibrates in excitement, gaze darting from one fruit to the next. You can practically smell the aroma drifting through the branches, and it makes you smile instantaneously.

Softly, San reaches out before you and plucks a fruit fresh from the branch, tracing his thumb over the side of its skin. Carefully, he takes your hand back into one of his own, placing the fruit delicately into your palm as he smiles.

The wonder filled look you wear means everything to him in this moment. The fact that he can see your lips part, eyes shining with nothing but adoration sets his heart racing.

“I love mangos.” You admit, voice nothing but a tender caress to his ears.

“So I’ve heard,” he smiles, chest warming at the way your hands hold onto that fruit so delicately right now. “Mingi enjoys raiding them for smoothies.”

“And he didn’t invite me…” you click your tongue, shaking your head in mock disapproval.

“To be fair, he had been pestering me for a mango tree for quite a long time before I finally gave in.” He admits, dragging the sole of his foot against the ground as he averts his gaze.

“Did you-“ you blink, heart skipping a beat as realization settles over you. “Did you start growing these for me?”

“Of course, Baby,” he confirms, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into his side. “I started growing quite a few things for you, especially once I learnt that you enjoy fresh fruit so much.”

Your entire being warms, nothing but fondness flooding your veins as you rest your head gently on his shoulder. Your eyes flutter shut as you breathe out a content sigh, “I don’t deserve you.”

“Nonsense, Baby.” Almost immediately, he shakes his head, completely appalled by your words. “You deserve everything I have to offer, and so much more.”

“I meant it in the sense that you’re too good to me,” you chuckle, wrapping your free arm around his own. “I can’t think of a single person that I know of who can say that their lover started growing specific fruits just for them.”

“Of course I would,” his reply is immediate. “Only the best for My Baby.”

A content hum escapes you. “I appreciate that, Sannie.” A pause. “I appreciate you.”

He shifts closer, turning to place a gentle kiss onto the side of your head. “I love you, Baby.”

You smile, sinking further into his side as you feel yourself fully relax. “I love you, My Aquaman.”

You don’t even need to look at him to know a large, giddy smile stretches across his features from your words. You can feel it just in the way his whole body shakes lightly in happiness beside you. Although it’s faint, you swear you can also hear his heartbeat thundering beneath his skin.

A sense of calm washes over the both of you as he leads you back to the main area of the greenhouse. Wordlessly, he places a tender kiss onto your cheek before somewhat reluctantly pulling away from you to begin tending to his plants. You, on the other hand, sit yourself nearby, watching him fondly as he begins to work.

“So, you’ve been cooking all your life?” Your legs begin to swing back and forth as you rest that mango beside you on top of the table you’re currently sitting on.

“For as long as I can remember, yes.” He confirms, pruning his plants lightly. “It came quite naturally to me. Plus, my powers always help make it easier.”

“What’s your favourite thing to cook?” You observe him eagerly.

He spares a glance over his shoulder, the corner of his lips quirking upwards softly. “Anything My Baby desires.”

“San!” You laugh, shaking your head lightheartedly. “I’m being serious!”

“So am I.” He hums, shifting on to the next plant in the row. “Though, if I have to choose, I do enjoy cooking old family recipes. It’s always nice to discover how tastes have changed and been passed on with each new generation.”

“How many unique family recipes do you know, then?” Your ankles are crossed as your hands support you on either side of the table.

“Oh, probably over a few hundred thousand.” He replies, nonchalantly. “Give or take.”

Your jaw drops, “That’s incredible!”

“It’s nothing.” He shrugs, the tips of his ears turning red.

“You should teach me sometime.”

The statement you make is casual, but it still causes San to freeze in his spot, nearly dropping the dead leaves he’s gathered in his one hand. 

Slowly, he turns to face you, nothing but hope shining within his gaze. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do, Baby.” Your legs finally still as you smile down at him. “I would love to cook with you, and besides, you shouldn’t have to prepare all of the meals. I want to make things for you and the other guys from time to time, too.”

In the blink of an eye, he’s before you, his hands on either side of your body as the pile of dead leaves now rests on top of the table. They appear almost as if they’ve been thrown haphazardly across the surface, his whole body trembling as he clings onto the edge for dear life.

“You want to cook for me?” His voice is small, hopeful as he tilts his head downwards, avoiding your eyes for the moment.

“I can’t promise it’ll be as good as your own food, but I would like to at some point; yes.” You nod once, quite firmly at that.

“Baby,” he swallows thickly, and his gaze says it all.

Nothing but love for you is seen in his eyes, which are shining with unshed tears. His lips are slightly parted, tongue darting out to wet them as his arms continue to shake as he holds himself steady against the edge of the table. Softly, his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, his heart racing uncontrollably in his chest.

“My baking is a little better than my cooking, but-“

You don’t even get to finish your thought, for his arms are around you, pulling you flush against his chest. A sob wracks his chest, tears of unfiltered joy falling onto your shoulder as he holds you close.

Gently, you card your fingers through his hair, holding onto him just as tightly as he clings to you.

“I didn’t realize you’d have this type of reaction,” you chuckle, rubbing his back comfortingly with your free hand.

“It just means a lot to me,” his voice is low as he mumbles the words against your neck. “More than you’ll ever know.”

Tenderly, you press your lips onto the side of his head. “I know how much you love cooking, San. I would be honoured to be able to share in that passion with you.”

His grip tightens ever so slightly as he nuzzles his face into the side of your neck. This is everything he’s ever wanted, and so much more. Finally, he can share his passion of doing what he loves with the person that he loves most in this world. Something he’s always longed to do.

“Just, don’t tell my mom.” You joke, watching as he pulls away to glance into your eyes.

“Why not?” His brow furrows.

“She’s been trying to teach me how to properly cook for years.” The corner of your lips quirks upwards. “I always told her that I was fine on my own.”

“Did you, now?” He quirks a brow playfully.

“I know how to follow a recipe, boil water, and cook eggs.” You shrug. “That’s all I’ve ever needed before.”

A dramatic hand is placed over his heart. “Oh, Baby, you hurt me so.”

“I’m not that bad a cook,” you roll your eyes teasingly. “I can cook, I just choose not to.”

“Which will make us cooking together all the more special.” He hums, eyes crinkling at the sides as he smiles at you.

“Exactly.” You loop your arms around his shoulders. “I want to spend more time with the people I love, doing what they love to do.”

“Oh?” His brow quirks, a certain mischievous gleam suddenly shining within his eyes. “Don’t say that, Baby. We’d be tempted to never let you leave your bed again.”

Your back straightens, a heat blooming on your cheeks as you slap his arm playfully. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know, Baby.” He chuckles. “You’re just so pretty when you get flustered.”

“And you’re very handsome when you’re excited about something.” You grin. “So, I guess we’re even.”

He returns your smile. “I guess so.”

Sliding your hands to rest on his shoulders, you give them a firm squeeze. A sense of calm passes over the both of you, his own grip finding purchase on your waist.

“Shouldn’t you be tending to your plants?” You quirk a brow teasingly.

“I could,” he hums, “but that would mean spending less time with you.”

“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere anytime soon,” you poke his cheek affectionately, watching as that dimple of his appears almost instantly.

“Well, if I did things like I normally do, I’d be done in a flash.” He says. “Doing this by hand will most certainly take me longer, meaning you can spend more time with me.”

“How you normally do things?” You tilt your head curiously.

“It’s quite easy to manipulate plants once you get the hang of both the oxygen and water they consist of.” He explains.

Your eyes widen, lips parting in awe.

“There are still aspects of us and our powers you have yet to see,” he winks, a smug grin tugging at his features.

“So I’ve been told,” you exhale somewhat breathlessly. “And just how do you normally do things?”

A light squeeze to your waist is all you receive before San steps to the side. Gently, he takes your one hand in his as he motions to the tomato plants in front of you.

“Watch closely.” His voice is low right by your ear as he leans into your side.

Fixating your gaze on the one plant he’s yet to prune, a gasp escapes you as you see the leaves beginning to sway. Carefully, the dead leaves separate from the plant, moisture collecting on the fruit almost instantly before sliding downwards. The droplets seem to gather in one place before floating in the air and moving to the next fruit, doing the same in succession.

A gentle breeze drifts passed, and you catch the faintest scent of peaches in the air this time.

“I use the moisture in the air to mist them, and then depending on the plant, the excess water is given back to the soil for the roots.” San’s voice is gentle, a fond look resting on his features as he takes in your expression of pure wonder once more.

“That’s amazing!” You squeeze his hand, whole body practically vibrating in excitement. “You’re incredible, Baby!”

“It’s nothing,” he attempts to shrug you off again, despite the vibrant blush creeping up his neck.

“So, then,” you stand back onto your feet, walking over to observe the tomatoes he’s just tended to. “How long does this usually take you?”

“Minutes at most,” he replies, eyes shining as he watches you crouch beside the plant. “Seconds at best.”

“Wow.” You blink up at him in awe before pushing yourself back to your feet. “So, you were only doing it manually today to spend more time with me?”

“I figured you could use the distraction,” he shrugs. “Besides, I wanted to impress you, and show off my greenhouse.”

“Well, it worked.” You nudge him gently with your shoulder. “Count me impressed on all parts.”

“I guess it’s a bonus I got to show you this, too.” He hums, nudging you back.

“I’m always interested in spending time with you, regardless of what we’re doing.” You admit softly. Then, just as tenderly, “I’m always interested in you.”

A low, pleased rumble shakes his chest.

“The feeling will always be mutual, Baby.” His voice is but a whisper as he pulls you into his arms.

“Well then, why don’t you finish up here, and then we can go bake something together.” You hum. “I’ve been meaning to make those cookies Reina mentioned when she saw the two kitchens the other day. Those are probably the only things I know how to bake off the top of my head recipe wise.”

“She was supposed to send me the instructions for how to make those.” San grumbles under his breath.

“I think she lied,” you smile lightly. “She only makes them for certain occasions.”

“Like what?” His brow furrows.

“When I need a pick me up.” You reply, stepping away from him lightly. “She only taught me how to make them after-“ the words catch in your throat as your expression falls. “I think I know why she mentioned them this time around.”

“Reina knows?” His brow furrows slightly, worry shining in his eyes as he watches your whole visage drop.

“Reina can be very perceptive when she wants to be.” You say, a small sigh escaping your lips. “Especially when it comes to me. We practically know each other better than we know ourselves.”

“I thought your sister was the only one that knew?” San frowns slightly.

“Reina figured it out, so I told her.” Your one hand comes up to rub at the side of your arm. “She knew- knows about my mental health probably better than anyone, my sister included.”

“She’s a good friend.” He observes.

“Yeah.” You smile, a soft nod to your head. “She is.”

“Alright, Baby,” San gently cups the side of your face, brushing his thumb tenderly against your cheek. “Why don’t you meet me in the kitchen, then? I’ll finish up here, cut up that mango for you, and then we can make those cookies together. How does that sound?”

You begin to nod. “Okay.”

A wide smile is all that you receive in response as you turn back to the table you had just been sitting on. It takes nothing to grab that fresh mango in your hand once more, turning to exit the greenhouse in the next second.

“Baby,” San’s somewhat urgent call of your name causes you to turn back to face him. “Will you be okay in the garden on your own?”

Warmth blooms in your chest at the care he continues to extend towards you.

“I will be.” You nod, somewhat firmly. Though, at the worried look he sends your way, you smile reassuringly at him. “I promise to call you if I need you. So, please, San, take your time.”

“Alright, Baby,” he breathes out a low sigh. “I’ll be right there.”

A final nod is all you give him as you turn back towards the greenhouse door. You can feel his eyes watching you the whole time as you take your leave, pausing only briefly to take a deep breath before exit the building once and for all.

The first thing you hear as soon as you shut the door behind you is the trickling of that fountain. You can smell the sweet aroma of the flowers drifting through the air, and it offers you comfort as you keep your back turned to the scenery behind you. The whole time, a small mantra of ‘nothing can hurt you now’ and ‘you’re okay’ runs through your head, taking deep breaths to help steady yourself for the time being.

You can get through this.

She cannot hurt you anymore. You won’t let her.

Turning around, you face the garden.

For a moment, you do not move. That single mango is clutched lightly in your hand as you swallow thickly, taking in every detail of the garden before you like the very first time. Again, you can see the meticulous detail that has gone into every aspect of this space. 

A space designed for you. 

For you and only you.

This is yours. You won’t let her take what this space means away from you, or them for that matter.

You take a small step forward.

The bench where you had that lovely talk with Hongjoong that one day still rests to the side. The foliage is a bit thicker than all those months ago, though. There seems to be a few symbols now carved into the wood, and you just know in your gut that they’re there for your protection.

You take another step.

There are all of the peonies, lilies, roses, and forget-me-nots lining the same path you took the very first time Hongjoong showed you this place. Stepping in beside them now, you lean over to take in their scents just as you did before, letting those better memories replace the single bad one.

Finally, you acknowledge the fountain.

Turning to face the sparkling water, you watch as it shines, trickling down each level of the carved stones. Despite your best efforts, your gaze flits to the very spot Miyeon held you down upon, submerging your head beneath the crisp, crystal clear liquid until your lungs burned for air.

You swallow thickly.

Blinking a few times, you step in closer.

She’s not here, but you are. You are still breathing. Despite everything she did to you that day, you are the one that emerged alive on the other end.

You sit on the edge of the fountain.

It’s a little difficult to keep your breathing under control, but you know that you need to do this for your sake. You’ve always been a very logic driven person, and doing this will prove to yourself once and for all that you are okay. Not only are you proving that she can no longer hurt you, but that these places have always been, and will always be safe. She was the one anomaly that caused you harm, not the fountain itself.

You close your eyes, allowing the sounds and scents of the garden to overflow your senses and lull you into a sense of security just as they’ve always done. This space has always offered you comfort, and you allow it to do so once more now.

With each passing second, you begin to relax more and more.

“Baby?” A somewhat tentative call of your name causes your eyes to flutter open to see San standing at the entrance to the garden. He takes a small step towards you. “When I couldn’t find you in either kitchen, I got worried.”

“I’m okay, San.” You breathe out, lifting your gaze to meet his concerned one. “I needed to do this.”

Carefully, he sits beside you on the edge of the fountain.

You look down at your hands, watching your thumb gently trace over the skin of that mango still held in your grip.

“I don’t want her to taint what this place means to me any longer.” Your voice is soft, barely above a whisper, yet he still manages to hear you loud and clear. “She doesn’t get that satisfaction. I’m not going to let her make me fear my own home.”

His expression softens, reaching out to grasp one of your hands in his own.

A moment of silence.

“It hurt, San.” You swallow thickly, squeezing your eyes shut as you feel the beginnings of tears stinging at the corners. “I thought my lungs were going to burst from how badly they were burning inside my chest.”

His free hand comes up to rest gently on your back as he shifts closer to you, nothing but concern in his gaze as he watches you break down right in front of him.

“I thought, ‘this is the end.’” You admit lowly, and you feel the way he stiffens beside you. Your grip tightens in your lap. “I wanted it to be the end.”

A soft call of your name escapes him as no more than a worried breath.

“As much as I wanted to live that day, I still have no idea how I survived as long as I did.” The confession weighs heavy on your shoulders, eyes blank as you stare at the cobblestone path beneath your feet. A brief flash of that conversation with Wyno the other day passes through your mind. “I should have died. I think a part of me did die.”

This time, it’s his turn to swallow thickly.

“I just don’t think I wanted to acknowledge it until now.” You finally look up to meet his gaze, the first of your tears sliding down the side of your cheeks. “Yet, I’m still here,” you smile weakly, “and I’m glad that I am.”

The hand that had been resting on your back comes up to cup the side of your face.

“I don’t know how long it will take me to get better, but it’s time for me to stop hiding my pain and pretending that everything is okay.” You lean over to rest your head against his shoulder. “I didn’t realize what I needed to do before, but today has really helped. I think I had just been avoiding it, honestly.” You swallow the sudden dryness in your throat. “Thank you, San, for being patient with me, and for always being there.”

A small smile is sent your way, his arm wrapping around your waist to pull you in closer to his side.

“I’m here for you, Baby. Always.” He rests his head on top of your own as his voice drops to a mere whisper. “I’m sorry you had to suffer at her hands. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you like I promised I would.”

You feel a tear land on top of your head, but with how firmly he’s holding onto you, you do not dare move. He needs this just as much as you do right now.

“Not a day passes by where I don’t blame myself for what she did to you.”

“San-“

“Please, Baby, I need to get this off my chest.” His voice is strained.

You remain silent, shifting the slightest bit closer to him in response.

“We all have regrets about that day: leaving you by yourself, not taking even a minute to think when Stella came to get us, letting you get that hurt.” He takes a deep, stuttering breath inwards. “For all of our powers, we couldn’t even sense her breaking through our wards. The moment we got back to discover you like that, our entire world stopped. I thought to myself, ‘this can’t be happening. This isn’t real.’”

He tightens his grip subconsciously around you.

“And when you told us everything she did to you…” his eyes squeeze shut, vivid images of your beaten and battered body filling his vision as more tears fall. “If I could have subjected her to an endless hell where her suffering never ceased, it would have still been too kind.”

You remain silent, waiting for him to continue.

“It was all my fault. I kept telling myself that maybe if I didn’t fall for her advances twenty years ago, that maybe if I just ignored her like Jongho did, then maybe we never would have gotten so tangled up in her web of lies. Both Wooyoung and I-” His voice breaks as a sob wracks his chest. “If we never agreed to a relationship with her in the past, she would have had no reason to hurt you.”

“Sannie-“

“I know,” he sniffles. “I know you already told us not to think like that, but it’s true. How could it not be true?”

“You do not control other people’s actions, San.” You gently stroke your thumb over the back of his hand, your own heart rate calming with each word that you speak. “None of us do. We could have never predicted she would do this to us.”

Softly, he nods along with your words, lips pursing slightly. “Those three days you were unconscious after the fact were the worst days of our lives.”

You squeeze his hand, heart aching inside of your chest.

“None of us knew what to do.” He admits lowly. “I think it hit Wooyoung, Hongjoong, and Seonghwa the hardest. We didn’t know if you were going to survive. We blamed ourselves for everything. We thought-“ his breath catches and his whole body shakes with his sobs. “We thought you would want nothing to do with us anymore the moment you woke up. We thought all the memories we made together would mean nothing, and you’d go back to hating us for everything that we did to you. Even worse than before.”

Gently, you shift upwards, guiding his gaze to yours with your free hand.

“I could never hate you for what she did to me.” You stare deeply into his eyes, and you watch as his chin begins to wobble slightly from his emotions. “It is not your fault, San.”

For a split second, nothing is said between the both of you. It’s as if the entire garden goes silent, too, the flowers stilling as you gaze into each other’s eyes.

That is, until he’s collapsing into your arms. A wail tears from his chest as his entire body shakes, face buried into the side of your neck. Countless apologies fall from his lips, his fingers digging harshly into your back as he holds you close. You swear that he believes that you’ll slip right through his hands if he doesn’t.

Softly, you coo to him, your own chest stuttering every now and then from the weight of your own emotions. Though, with every breath you take, you feel better. Right now, you’re revelling in the comfort of his embrace as much as he is doing the same with you.

Looks like the both of you really needed this.

“You no longer have to apologize to me, San.” You say gently, pulling away to wipe the tears from his eyes. “You saved me, in more ways than one. You all did. Now, we just need to get passed this, and we will. Together.”

He nods softly, rubbing at his nose with the back of his hand.

That’s when you notice, the trickling sound of the fountain has stopped.

Sparing a glance around you, a gasp of awe nearly falls from your lips. All around you rests the water from the fountain, floating in a thin dome-like shape. Patterns dance within the water, swirling like mist around your head.

“Are you doing this?” Your once sad eyes which are now filled with wonder make him smile faintly.

“I haven’t in a long time,” he admits lowly. “This really only happens when I lose control of my emotions.”

Your eyebrows droop in worry. “Sannie-“

“It’s like a protective barrier,” he explains, the corners of his lips quirking upwards as he begins to make the water swirl slightly faster around you. “Nothing can get through it right now. Well, except maybe Mingi, if he really wanted to.”

Realization crosses your features. “You did this for us.”

His gentle smile says it all.

Tenderly, you cup his face in your one hand, thumb stroking along his cheekbone as he leans into your touch.

“I want you to know that this space will never be able to hurt you again.” He breathes. “Not while I’m around to protect you. I’ll make it so that not a single drop of water can suffocate you, nor will anyone be able to force your head below the surface again.”

Slowly, he begins to trail the water back into the fountain, the familiar trickling filling the space once more.

Your heart swells in your chest, a warmth unlike anything you’ve ever felt before flooding your veins as you let his words sink in.

“And I will be here to help ease those doubts whenever you have them.” You say, staring deeply into his eyes as you do so. “Recovery is a tricky path, so no more blaming yourself for things that are both out of your control and not your fault.”

“The same goes for you, Baby,” he nudges your knee playfully with his own.

You smile faintly. “Okay.”

In one swift movement, he steals the mango from your hand. “Come on, we have some baking to do.”

You giggle, and the smile that lights up his features in response sets your heart racing.

“I’ll be right there, there’s just something I need to do first.” You stand with him, stretching out your back all the while. At the way he quirks his brow at you, you’re quick to shoo him away. “I promise I’ll be right there this time.”

“Alright,” he replies, somewhat skeptically. “I’ll go get the ingredients ready.”

“Alright, Baby,” you chuckle, watching as he disappears behind the doors to the library in the next second.

For a minute, you simply stand there, allowing the atmosphere of the garden to surround you fully for the second time that day. Then, you’re taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. There’s another male you wish to speak to right now. A male who you know cherishes this space as much as you do.

You brush lightly against that red string.

Instantly, Hongjoong appears in front of you, worry creasing his brow. Only, before he can say anything, you’re speaking.

“I’m sorry.”

You can tell he’s caught off guard by your words, for he blinks in surprise at you.

“You made this space for me, and I let her taint what it means to the both of us.” You avoid his gaze for the moment, shame washing over your entire figure as your shoulders curl in on yourself. “I know how much thought you put into this house - into everything that you do, and I was willing to push that aside because of one bad memory in this place.” You pause. “Because of her.”

“My Love-“

“When did you add the hyacinths?” Your voice is somewhat small, eyes briefly darting up to catch his gaze.

You notice he swallows thickly, averting his own gaze somewhat nervously.

“The day after everything happened.” He replies after a moment, clearing his throat all the while. “I added them as soon as I saw what she did to this place.”

You nod your understanding, heart squeezing painfully in your chest. “And the snapdragons?”

“The day after that.” His voice is rough as he now avoids your gaze.

You take a step in towards him, and you notice how his bottom lip is caught between his teeth. His hands tremble, and his eyes shine with unshed tears as you gently reach up to cup his face in your palms. Yet still, he refuses to meet your eyes.

“Hongjoong,” your expression falls the slightest bit, “please, look at me.”

Hesitantly, he complies with your wish.

“You haven’t stopped blaming yourself for this, have you?” Your tone is soft, synonymous with the tender caress of your thumbs against his cheeks. “For what she’s done. For what she continues to do to us.”

The first of his tears begin to fall from his eyes.

“How can I not?” His voice cracks, giving away just how broken he feels inside. “You couldn’t even look at certain parts of this house after she tarnished our sacred space. I should have protected you better. I should have known-”

His eyes squeeze shut, more tears falling freely down his face and onto the skin of your hands.

“It’s not your fault, Hongjoong.” You brush his tears away gently. “I made you believe it was, and I cannot apologize enough for that.”

“No-“

“I want you to be honest with me right now,” you cut him off almost instantly. “Did you think me avoiding this place was because I didn’t want to be reminded of you? Of how you thought that I felt you failed me?”

His silence speaks volumes.

“When did you really add those hyacinths, Hongjoong?” You search his gaze, feeling the way his whole being practically deflates in your hold. “I know you’re well versed in the language of flowers, and the fact that they’re purple says a lot to me.”

A brief pause as he hesitates in his response.

He looks down at his hands.

“Three days ago.” The admission feels like a condemnation on his part.

The day you got back from the dragon’s nest after falling from the sky. The day you slept for nearly twenty-four hours due to your high emotions and trauma response. The day he saw first hand just how scared of him you could be.

Your argument over how to get Jongho back probably didn’t help one bit.

“Oh, Hongjoong,” your expression falls, heart aching as you fall to your knees before him. Gently, you press your forehead to his hands, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes for the second time that day. “Words cannot express how much I regret ever making you feel like this. I was never avoiding reminders of you. I love you. I was avoiding her, but in doing so, I hurt you. I’ve never once blamed you for any of this, but I can only imagine the doubt you must have felt, especially over the last few days.”

The violent sobs that wrack his body tell you everything you need to know as he collapses to his knees in front of you. Almost instantly, he falls into your embrace, and you begin to gently card your fingers through his hair, cooing to him all the while.

“You are not responsible for any of this, Hongjoong.” You voice softly. “I’m sorry for ever making you think that, and I’m sorry I kept my true emotions from all of you. I should have been more honest with how she was affecting my memories of our spaces. Maybe then this all could have been avoided.”

You feel him shake his head against you. “You were only doing what you thought was best for you.”

“Sometimes what I want is not what I need.” You mutter. “I wanted to avoid her, and in turn I’ve been avoid our home and all of you. What I needed was to realize that, and to understand that nothing has changed. The only variant was her, and you have all ensured that she cannot hurt me anymore.”

“Nothing will ever hurt you again.” He tightens his grip around you, managing to get his breathing back under control. “Not while I’m here to protect you.”

You chuckle fondly. “It seems all of you share that sentimentality.”

He cracks a halfhearted grin. “So it would seem.”

As they should. As they always will. Even if it’s the last thing they ever do.

You hold him tighter.

“I’m sorry, My Love,” you breathe out, making sure to keep your voice low as you bury your face into the side of his neck. “I won’t allow her to get in-between us again.”

Turning his head slightly, Hongjoong presses his lips against the side of your temple. He lets his kiss linger for a while, holding you to him as if you may just slip right through his arms if he doesn’t.

“I appreciate you saying all of this to me, My Love,” he hums, finally managing to get his emotions back under control. “You have eased my mind more than you’ll ever know.”

The corners of your lips twitch upwards, a brief memory of your shared conversation flitting through your mind from the last time the two of you had a heart to heart in the garden.

“All is well between us now, My Love.” He places another kiss to the side of your temple. “At least, I think it is.”

He pulls away to stare into your eyes, searching your gaze for any signs you might be hiding something from him again. Something that you believe might burden him if you admit to.

“I think so, too,” you smile faintly, leaning in to peck his cheek lightly.

“I believe there are some others that might benefit from a conversation like this with you, too.” He says casually, standing back to his feet and helping you back to yours almost immediately

“I believe you’re right.” You hum, settling into the comfort of his embrace with his arm around your shoulders. “For now, San is expecting me in the kitchen.”

Hongjoong quirks a brow, “Is he, now?”

“We’re baking cookies.” You grin, wiggling excitedly in his hold.

“Finally succumbing to his desires of cooking with you, are you?” Hongjoong teases.

“I was the one who suggested it.” You reply, beginning to exit the garden with Hongjoong right beside you.

He laughs, “Even better.”

Your brow quirks, somewhat knowingly. “I have a feeling that he’s not the only one with those types of more… domestic desires.”

“No, he most certainly isn’t.” Hongjoong grins. “I’m quite certain we all have things we wish to indulge in with you at some point that aren’t apart of our greater indulgences.”

“Everything I do with you guys feels like a greater indulgence,” you admit. “Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever been this spoiled in my life.”

Hongjoong smiles wide as you both enter the kitchen together.

“Get used to it, Baby,” San glances up from the counter where he’s already taken the liberty to lay out some bowls and baking ingredients. A grin tugs at his lips, an eagerness unlike anything you’ve seen before shines within his eyes. “We enjoy pleasing you more than you’ll ever know.”

It’s slight, but you cannot help the way your breath hitches in your throat. Though, what really gets you is the not so innocent smile San sends your way as you meet his gaze.

“Yeah, yeah.” You huff out a laugh, playfully rolling your eyes. “It’s the corset pictures all over again.”

The two males share a look.

“Well, if you’re offering…” Hongjoong grins deviously.

You slap his arm teasingly, mouth parting in shock, “Joongie!”

“You’re the one who brought them up,” San singsongs from behind the counter.

You shake your head, a loving smile pulling at your lips as you separate from Hongjoong in order to join San behind the counter. You can hear them chuckle as you mutter to yourself about your ‘damn horny Kings’ once more.

Not even a minute later, Hongjoong takes his leave. Well, it’s more of San pointedly glaring at him until Hongjoong casually says that he has some other things to attend to. You laugh at this, poking San on his cheek again as you tease him about monopolizing all of your alone time.

“Is it that bad that I want you all to myself sometimes, Baby?” He wraps his arms around you, burying his face into the side of your neck all the while.

“Not at all,” you hum, practically melting into his embrace.

The next hour is spent with him in the kitchen, laughing and joking around as you teach him how to make your favourite cookies. Every word you speak, every instruction you give him, he listens to eagerly, insisting that he do all of the heavy mixing. It’s only when the cookies are finally in the oven, you standing at the sink cleaning what you can of the used dishes, that you feel him step up behind you once more.

“I love you.” His arms are wrapped securely around your waist, his chest pressed firmly against your back as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck.

You smile, relaxing into his touch. “I love you, too, Sannie.”

“Thank you, for indulging in multiple of my hobbies with me today.” He says lowly, squeezing your waist a little bit tighter. “It truly means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

“Of course, Baby.” You turn your head just as he rests his chin on your shoulder, managing to place a tender kiss onto the side of his cheek. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a while. I’m just glad we finally got to.”

He giggles, a large grin spreading across his face as he holds you close. Even when you finally finish the dishes, and the timer dings on the stove, he refuses to let you go.

“Sannie! My cookies!” You whine, though it comes out more of a laugh than anything.

“What about them?” He hums, waddling around the kitchen with you in his arms.

“They’re going to burn!”

He shakes his head against your own. “No, they won’t.”

In the blink of an eye, he’s removed the trays from the oven, setting the cookies aside to cool. Another blink, and he’s back to holding you in his arms as the oven cools down.

“You’re worse than a koala.” You tease, poking his arm lightly.

He whines in response, a pout tugging at his lips that you manage to catch in the reflection of the glass paneling of the cupboards. “I’m the cutest koala, though, right?” 

You chuckle, “If you say so.”

A loud, scandalized gasp escapes him. “I’m the cutest koala, and you know it!”

“Do I?” You hum, clearly amused by his antics.

“I’m not letting you go until you admit that I’m your cutest koala.” He tightens his grip, burying his face into the side of your neck once more. Only this time, he begins placing tender kisses against your skin, managing to tickle you all the while.

You begin to squirm in his grip, desperately attempting to free yourself as you giggle.

“Okay, okay!” You practically melt into his embrace. “You’re my cutest koala.”

You can feel the smirk that pulls onto his lips as his chest shakes in laughter. “Victory.”

“Now, will you let me go so I can finally taste our baking?” You struggle to waddle yourself over to the now (hopefully) cooled cookies on the rack.

Instantly, he’s in front of you, offering a cookie to you while he holds one for himself in his other hand. Graciously, you take it, breaking it in half and smiling at the softness that greets you. The inside is still a bit warm, too.

“I can see why these are your favourite,” he hums, nodding in approval as the sweet treat melts in his mouth.

“Looks like you owe another thing to Reina,” you joke, popping the rest of your cookie into your mouth.

“Maybe I’ll help you set her up with Sudaem in thanks.” San wiggles his brows suggestively.

Your brow quirks eagerly, “I like the way you think.”

Grabbing a plate from the cupboard, you place some cookies on top of it. You have some other males you wish to see before the day is done, and besides, you didn’t just make these for you.

The way each male’s eyes light up as you peek your head into their spaces, bringing with you a plate of cookies has your heart warming. San, of course, follows behind you like an overexcited puppy, revelling in his brother’s praises of your baking as much as you are.

Honestly, you’re just glad that they’re enjoying the sweets so much. So much so, in fact, that you see both Jongho and Wooyoung fighting over the ones you left untouched in the kitchen when you return. Never would any of you have expected Yeosang to be the one to swoop in and steal the plate right from their hands, though.

The chase that ensued was comical, ending with a broken plate and scattered cookie crumbs across the floor. You swear you even see Seonghwa shed a tear when he walks out of his tailor shop to see the catastrophe right before his eyes.

“Don’t worry, boys,” you chuckle. “I can go make more.”

Which is exactly how you find yourself making a few more dozen batches with San, both Wooyoung and Mingi eagerly sitting at the counter the whole time to keep you two company.

Truly, you’re grateful for moments like these. They make you remember that everything will be okay, even if the path you’re walking is still uncertain. The fact that they’ll all be with you every step of the way only makes it that much sweeter, your heart warming as you simply enjoy the moment with Your Kings that this evening brings.

The next day, you spend training with both Mingi and Hongjoong. You want to get out some pent up frustration, and the practice had been long overdue. Luckily, you do not do anything too intensive, simply going over everything that you’ve already learned, and working to perfect it as best as you can.

You all agree that it would be best to save the teaching of new techniques for next week.

The day after that, you brave Yunho’s art room. The exchange is just as emotional as the garden, the two of you falling into each other’s embrace for comfort as you are so prone to do. It is much needed, and you find that with each space that you reclaim, you can feel yourself regaining parts of yourself that you had thought you had lost.

Well, perhaps not lost, per se, but those parts that have now undergone a strong rebirth.

Now, you are stronger, and feeling much more secure in both yourself and your relationships with all of them. Although everything is still a bit rocky, you’re happy with the progress that you’re making, and you just know that they feel the exact same way as you.

Over the next three days, you rotate where you spend your time. One day is spent in the garden, Mingi being the one to join you this time. The next is spent with Yunho again in his art room. He claimed to want to paint you again, and you certainly were not going to deny him. The final day is spent with both Jongho and Hongjoong in the library, simply relaxing in each other’s comforting presence as you spent the time reading together. 

Each day, you feel better, until a full week has passed since that day in the garden with San. 

There’s a funny feeling in your chest when you wake up that morning, a sort of tightness you haven’t felt in a while. A tightness which you think you’re starting to understand.

It’s time to let go.

Taking a deep breath in, you exit your room.

The steps that you take down the hallway are careful, each movement precise as you approach the two rooms that rest at the end. The moment you reach the one door, you peer through the window, noticing how the lights seem to be turned off. No one appears to be using the studio for the moment, and before you can open the door, you stop yourself.

Suddenly, your mouth goes dry, and your hand which had been hovering above the handle slowly retracts back to your side. You don’t even need to look down to feel the tremble in your hand.

Perhaps you’ll do the other thing you had in mind first, and take it from there.

Turning back to face the end of the hallway, you walk towards the music room. Not much has changed about the space since the last time you saw it, save for the brand new baby grand piano that sits near the large bay windows. Even Yeosang’s violin rests in its regular spot, perfectly placed and shining in the light of the midmorning sun.

You smile softly to yourself, remembering the very first time he played for you.

Turning back to the piano, you slowly approach the bench. Gently, your hand trails over the lid, propping it open carefully as you attempt to keep your hands from shaking.

You are safe.

She can’t hurt you anymore.

Tugging the bench out, you sit before the keys, feeling a comforting brush of fur against your leg. Looking down reveals Kuroo staring up at you with those wide, golden eyes of his. Of course, he’s quick to hop onto the window bench, curling up in the exact same position that he was in the very first time that you played in this room.

You think back on that now, and what it meant to you then.

Gosh, you feel like an entirely different person now compared to only a few months ago. Then again, you probably are.

You spare a glance down at the keys.

That most certainly isn’t a bad thing. After all, this time when you play, you’ll be playing for you.

Taking another deep breath in, you begin.

You start with a familiar favourite like always, the opening notes of Moonlight Sonata filling the room as you lose yourself to the music.

For about forty minutes, you go through multiple classical pieces you’ve known since you were young, allowing the melodies to surround you and comfort you like they always have. You fumble a few times on certain songs that you haven’t played in a while, but you have long since stopped caring. Right now, this is for you, and you aren’t attempting to be perfect. In fact, that’s the whole point.

Though, that’s not all you came here to do.

For a brief moment, you pause, allowing the stillness of the silence of the room to settle over you. You take the time to stretch out your back, cracking your knuckles while you’re at it before straightening in your seat. There are two more songs you wish to perform for yourself as a final goodbye to the person you once were, and everything that you’ve been through. Only, you know that the lyrics can be taken a certain way, and the last thing you want is for any of them to believe that you’re singing about them.

So, you tell them.

These next songs aren’t about you. You drop your void for the moment. These are for me. So please, do not think the words are aimed at any of you. I need this. For me.

Alright, Petal, It’s Yunho who answers you first. We understand.

You smile, somewhat sorrowfully. Thank you.

Just as you go to close your void, you hesitate. Then, probably against your better judgement, you decide to leave it down for the time being. After all, you did promise to be more open with them about your emotions going forward.

The opening notes to Adele’s Someone Like You fill the room not even a moment later. You begin to perform for yourself, for the life you lost, and for the person who you are sure to become.

The perspective you decide to take with this song is your current self singing to your past self. The past self that you lost when Miyeon finally broke you is finally being acknowledged, and, oh, how fitting some of the lyrics seem to be to your exact situation.

You never thought you would settle down, so to say, but you were proved wrong in the best of ways.

Looking into mirrors the first few days and seeing your face shortly after the incident had happened had been a challenge. Every time you saw yourself, it felt as if you were looking at a ghost. A ghost of yourself that you hadn’t realized you needed to let go of in order to begin healing like you so badly needed to do.

“Never mind, I’ll find someone like you,” Your old self will continue to strengthen your current self. After all, people do not change over night. However, that being said, you need to let your past self go in order to thrive in the present.

“I wish nothing but the best for you, too.” Now, you picture yourself having a conversation with your old self, her saying this to you in your current state.

“Don’t forget me, I beg,” Still your past self urging you never to forget the good memories you’ve always had with her.

“I’ll remember, you said.” Your current self reassuring your past self that you’ll never forget, but you’ll still be okay.

“Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead.” The corner of your lips quirk upwards, a sense of melancholy settling over your being as you continue into the second verse.

The whole time you sing, your thoughts and feelings echo shameless through each of their minds. Graciously, they follow along with your journey, tears gathering in their eyes as they see you talking to yourself and assuring yourself in ways that they know only you can.

No matter what, they will still support you in whatever ways that they can. Right now, they will do so by listening and understanding all that you are doing for yourself through your music. Yet, there is no denying that all of you understand that you are saying goodbye to your past self in your own way.

The second you reach the final verse, your own tears begin to fall. Saying goodbye to a part of yourself that you had been stolen from you, that had been torn from your very soul is no easy task. However, with each word you sing, you feel a weight lifting from your chest. Slowly, you begin to feel lighter, and by the time the final notes ring out in the room, your smile has brightened, and you can breathe a bit easier.

Now, for the final, and possibly most important song.

This time, when the opening notes for Panic! At the Disco’s This Is Gospel ring out, you imagine that it’s the part of yourself that you are saying goodbye to singing to your current self, reassuring you that everything will be okay.

With each note, your voice becomes stronger, solidifying who you are in this moment, and who you are surely bound to become.

“If you love me, let me go.” The tears you had managed to get under control only minutes before stream freely down your face as you repeat the phrase of the song once more.

This song has always meant a lot to you, and now that you can fully apply it to your current situation, you find the lyrics truly resonating with you. Especially the next ones that fall from your lips, “The fear of falling apart.”

This is you telling yourself that everything will be okay.

“I won’t give up without a fight.” There is extra emphasis put on those words in particular, even if you are currently unaware of that fact.

With every note that you hit, and every word you sing, your voice becomes stronger. The music rises in a crescendo as you finally break free of all of your past worries and doubts. Finally, you lay your old self to rest, and as the final notes ring out through the air, you feel like a newer, stronger person.

You close your void.

For five minutes, you simply sit there at that piano, letting everything you’ve just expelled through your playing linger around you in the room. A soft smile rests on your features as you keep your eyes closed, wiping at your final tears that cling to your cheeks.

For the first time in a long time, your head is clear, and those lingering fears and doubts begin to recede.

The feeling of a gentle hand placing itself onto your back makes you jump slightly. Turning your body, you blink your eyes open to see Yeosang standing behind you, tears of his own having cut tracks down the side of his face.

“Dearest-“

You nearly knock over the bench as you stand to your feet, wrapping him in your arms as he does the same for you. He holds you tightly, cradling the back of your head gently in his hand as you bury your face into the side of his neck. Soothingly, he caresses your spine.

“Thank you,” he swallows thickly, “for sharing this with us.”

You tighten your grip around him, a peaceful smile pulling at your lips.

“Thank you for listening.”

[wayfayrr]

Ohhhh! I really like the people pleaser idea, especially as someone who has been called out as a people pleaser before...

Something that comes to my mind is the people pleasing coming from not just the need for approval but also for survival. Like, there's being 'fight' or 'flight' responses, there's also 'fawn': pleasing and appeasing the needs of someone else in order to avoid conflict and to establish a sense of safety.

<3<3<3

You pulled an accidental isekai and landed into Hyrule with nothing but the clothes on your back and maybe a few personal items.

You don't know where you are. You don't know who or what snagged you away, except for that, it had red eyes and that it might come back to tie loose ends. It'll come back to finish you off in a place that wasn't home.

You'll eventually find a group of men. Maybe you had eventually pass out, and they found your body? Maybe you happened to accidently stumble upon them, immediatly tense at the sight of their weapons.

When your story is spilled through shallow breaths, being pulled from your home because of a red-eyed beast, you’re met with quiet speculation and suspicion. Because Why — why were you taken in the first place? You weren't someone that had faced enemies born from hatred, nor did you have the hero's spirit; could you even be considered a threat with how you intentionally made yourself small in their prescence. Too afraid to take up an ounce space. Too afraid to do something that'll be considered out of line, something that could leave you bleeding if you weren’t careful.

It was agreed upon that you would join their group. It's not like you had anywhere to go.

You would struggle trying to keep up with them. You’re not used to so much walking or the monster encounters. (Especially the monster encounters) After a particulary close call that left you in the healing hands of Hyrule, you quickly realized how much you genuinely lacked compared to the others. Not in a self-deprecating way, but in a sense that you are, objectively speaking, dead weight.

You can't fight. You can't strategize. You get tired too easily. It felt humiliating when the literal child could find the courage to hold up his sword while you flinch at your own shadow.

You couldn't do anything without the chain. You couldn't survive without the chain. You’re dead without chain. The only words that fell from your lips was a simple “Thank you” to the traveler. Your wounds were healed but your heart felt heavier than it ever was before. Thankful, you were truly thankful to them for everything.

There was a new found hesitancy in your actions and words. Every sentence was carefully constructed, but your go-to would be silence, sometimes it felt better to not speak — speaking could cause conflict. And you couldn’t afford to cause conflict with the men that are keeping you alive. You also couldn’t afford leeching off of their kindness like a parasite, so you tried to find ways to be useful to them. You have to show them you can be as helpful and useful so there wouldn’t be a need to leave you behind. Try to stay in their good graces, and to make their more happy moods stay a little longer — keep an eye on the slightest change in demeanor, the subtle hints of anger and minimize that immediatly.

You couldn’t afford to lose their approval when they’re the only hand that kept you alive.

Anon holy shit your brain, I love all of this. it's so perfect.

it's so natural for reader to act like that as a defence mechanism too, they don't know the people they're with - or why they seem so intent on letting them travel with them when they're 'useless'. I'd love to see more of your take on it too because the fawn reaction was something I'd overlooked when rambling earlier and 👀👀 it's a good one

[liveyun]

h a e g e u m | 01

banner by the lovely @archivededits ♡⁠˖

pairing. yoongi x female reader.

genre. mini series. crime au. angst. thriller(?). smut

w. (01) mentions of smoking, injuries, k*lling, corruption, injection (!!)

tags. @secfir

teaser | part 2

--

01. RED ALERT

--

She knew something was wrong when she looked at him in the CCTV footage frame by mind numbing frame,for the first time.

However, she her doubts were confirmed when she saw him—for the second time— in the alley near a collapsible gate—skinny, hunched,coated with crimson, smoking— and realised he was the danger rather than being in danger himself. The sort of danger which is fatal, the sort of danger which relishes in the blazing inferno.

The sort of fatal which increases your heartbeats, the sort of danger you know you're fucked up to feel your stomach churn with exictement. The sort of danger who was wanted all over the country, spreading his wings all over the nation with a rapid growth of that like a disease.

It fell upon her to banish the growth, and boy, it wasn't at all easy. It was the clash of opposite elements facing in a battlefield, the only difference being that there had been no swords and no bloodshed, well, not untill now.

Failures after failures. Injuries after injuries. Despair and despair, yet it felt all like a circus to him.

And the third time she saw him, was in her own custody, but she knew something about this man never changed ever since she first laid her eyes on him. Calm, cool and collected— somehow radiating off how much he's aware of his worth and how much of a pain in the ass he has been to finally get captured. But still, this was all but a game to him— something he plays everyday.

“didn't mean to kill the president, my bad. ”

His bloody wrists remains cuffed— she wonders silently if the cuffs burnt into his skin, for why his flesh seemed to be more than bruised, injuries were spread all over. But once again, that particular glint in his eyes told her that it was nothing new for him.

“ You didn't ? ” her reply comes back as a question, implied with a cool sentiment. His eyes rest somewhere down the table she's seated on, particularly on the gun that rests atop. However, his eyes slowly travels up to her own, and she is surpirsed to see how dark they are. The last time she saw them, they were…brown?

“ Remember to always have the lock on your gun always, officer. ”

“ Beating around the bush won't free you from here, D. ” a small laugh, a displeased one. A light exhale, and once again his eyes trailed down to anywhere but away from hers.

“ I always get away, officer. ”

His eyes flick to hers own, a certain hue of coldness flashing across. Maybe she was an officer, but the slightest of the shivers which ran down her spine was undeniable.

There was a thing to argue on : he was pretty. A criminal with a pretty face was dangerous, for why she sensed him as the danger in the first place. From the ridges of his brow to his feline shaped eyes, and the smooth skin had something to do with the carnal impulses this man had.

“ And how is that, if I may ask you?” No sardonic reply came back, not even a chuckle. His curled hair fell elegantly around his neck and forehead, and you wonder again if he knows how beautiful he is. You ponder that he does, the reason he's so cocky about himself in the first place.

“ You're rather nosy for a cop, officer. ”

“ It's my job to interrogate, D. ” And maybe this reply coaxed a small, harsh laugh at you, almost like a hiss. The atmosphere feels rather compelling for you, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out that the atrocious behaviour has a single intention, and that is to piss the system off.

His eyes suddenly dart up to your own, and you see the malice behind them, floating in subtle threats. His face, slowly comes your view, dried blood sticking to the corner of his mouth. And his lips quirk upwards so full of amusement, that it did feel like a laugh, but it perplexed you, because a rather alarming siren within a distance was heard. A single commotion had your whole office premises in shambles, because this notice meant a single thing.

Red alert.

The man infront of you didn't react much, and this is the first time you've been called to the red alert. The superior authorities had some difficult time to actually acknowledge that you had caught hold of this hoodlum, or rather the most wanted criminal in the whole Daegu, they were totally astounded in their chairs.

You are totally aware of how treacherous possibilities may occur, now. You did feel dubious when you realised it been way too long for his side to respond,and you must admit that red alert was something you did not expect in the least.

Your phone buzzed in your trouser pants, breaking you from the reverie you had trapped yourself in. Not breaking any eye contact with him, you receive your call.

Lieutenant Police.

“ Officer, we order you to release him, right now. ”

“ May I ask for a reason why? ”

“ You don't ask for a fucking reason why when you're given a red alert within your premises, do you ?”

the voice growls like a mad man, and that voice does not intimidate you, not at all. Even when you know that the red alert is the last warning an officer gets. More of a do or a.. die situation, where you have to do what they instruct, or..

…your straw that you may not survive, and if you do, you'll no longer be accepted as an police officer. The situation is way too dangerous to keep hostage criminals like him,but it's been forty eight hours since you've captured him. Red alerts chime within four hours.

That means you're in grave danger.

Isn't he sitting infront of you already?

“ I still stand regard to my question, Lieutenant. ”

“ The Min Orphanage will break down our department if you don't fucking release the man right now. ”

Min orphanage ?

The man's brows pinch all of a sudden, the only sort of emotion other than sarcasm he has ever let out since. Do you see a flash of..concern in his features?

Your brain refuses to work, because in what actual ways would be a notorious criminal like him, connected to an orphanage, that too in such a way, that it seems like the orphanage is more inclined towards him? Your own brow pinches as you hear a sigh from the other side of the call.

“ Officer, you maybe are yet to realise how much in danger you're in, right now. ”

“ I’m just seeking for answers which have been unspoken and unapproached since, Lieutenant. ”

“ If you do not release him.. ”

there's a sickening silence which follows. However, you can hear chaos from the other side which is rare, because the upper departments are supposed to have a pin drop silence. His eyes never leave your own, and the ticking down of water droplets as Mother Nature starts pouring her soul out, you feel a light throb at the back of your head. His eyes are challenging, captivating, ironic because you're his capturer now.

He's intriguing in so many ways than one.

“ They're all little children here, and in no way we can take any particular option even if you had something on your mind, officer. ”

Another reaction. A light, unamused snort.

Another commotion. Muffled screams and yells are constantly changing their paces as you hear shuffling, and suddenly you're hearing vigorous panting from the other side, and a much older voice.

“ ____, I ORDER YOU TO RELEASE HIM, RIGHT NOW. ”

a voice you never expected to hear, not atleast now.

“ Supreme, he's a threat. A real danger if he's let out—”

“ you. are. ordered to let him go right now, because I absolutely cannot risk my team to sail closer to the wind because of your cheap ego. ”

his voice trembled with rage, and your throat feels dry to hear the screams echoing inwards to your own room. Bangs of gunshots and panicked screams as you hear the snaps of fire outside, most likely advancing towards your own room, now. Silent gangs like these get vigorous at times like these.

Cheap ego.

If your ego is cheap and this situation is playing with fire, you'd rather chose to burn your money to that burning whirls of arrogance. This wasn't easy, it wasn't easy to achieve the victory over the challenging, yet collected eyes of the gangster infront of you. If your team, or rather those puppets who shamelessly dance along to the beat they're instructed to, you'd wholeheartedly admit, that you were the only reason why he's here. Infront of you.

Alas, let people call you selfish and self centred, but you've learnt in this struggling world that if you're not so, you'd be used and thrown around like a rag full of holes. And even if your position is at stake, your years of hardwork going to vain because of this menace infront of you— you cannot help but risk that if you've reached till this far, you will ace your goals. You cannot be a sore loser in the end.

“ I’m not letting him free. ”

Silence, but chaos.

“ You're terminated from your position, Miss ___. ”

The call ended.

And so did your dignity as a police officer.

You close your eyes for a moment. You feel sick; it meant that you were no longer in charge of his custody, the head of your team, and no longer an official. No body would give a fuck if you make out of here alive, or if your dead body is dumped somewhere and you rot. No one would care.

You were ready for this exactly the moment you heard the sirens,but however maybe you weren't totally ready to acknowledge that. Your hands feel clammy by the time you put your phone on the table, and the unpleasant feeling of your hair sticking to your neck is creepy. You sigh, your whole life dedicated to your career was shattered by the system, just because you were inclined for the safety of your people..

..or maybe because you were just a mere puppet, too.

..or maybe you're blinded by anger to actually come out of your haze and take care of what's happening, but it's of no use; you're partially bounded.

“ Wouldn't that be a crime if you'd hit me now, officer? ”

his voice echoed in your ears, and the officer in the end hit you like a pan on your head. He sounded all collected and cool: much to the contradiction to the inner turmoil you were going through. Anger courses in your veins to see his bleeding lips quirk upwards at your misery, but again..is he really the one to blame?

He got what he wanted, the system got ehat they wanted, and even if you're reluctant to see anything else, you know you're the loser here. A sore loser. Indignation rises in your chest as you take a look at him, your head suddenly feeling lighter than usual. Your throat burns to speak, and your heart thrums in it's cage.

“ Thank you, D. ”

“ It'd be better if you start your countdown now, officer. ” his voice is barely a whisper as now there's a sudden throb in your head, and his voice a mere croak by the time you gasp to fill in air inside your lungs. Silence, it's a wicked silence as the murmurs deepen.

Your jaw clenches as you feel the sting, an overwhelming sting, your limbs feel numb, and the wider your eyes open, the blurrier it seems now. The room spins, as the yells increase and the rifles scream, they all turn to a crestfallen murmur.

Is this your end?

Your throat hurts, hurts, and its just an outline of his wrists, cuffed wrists, the mop of black hair, your identity card on the table, his wrists..something held within..what, what.. Your head ducks down in an immediate effort to get a better look, but lolls away immediately, too weak and throbbing to work, and everything goes black.

But screw that, you didn't see the injection needle pricking the skin of your thigh as he injects the whole of the syringe into your system skillfully with his thumb, his eyes burning with rage. The same shit eating grin on his lips, as he sticks his tongue out to lick the dried blood on his mouth.

“ You're welcome, officer. ”

[minustwofingers]

love is a laserquest p.1

masterlist

pairing: rockstar!ellie williams x reader

request: @thatgiraffefromtlou so kindly included me on a post about writing something inspired by these beautiful edits :) thank you !

summary: after a serious of unfortunate events, columbia grad y/n y/l/n finds herself using her hard-earned journalism degree interviewing vapid stars and writing articles that she's convinced are rotting her mind. ellie williams has just dropped the album of the year and it's all anyone is talking about, but all she wants is to be off the press train. a certain interview with a certain interviewer might change this.

warnings: no cws, but i will say that i don't know anything about this career path so i apologize if i'm totally butchering it!

a/n: see ? see? i promise i haven't forgotten about you guys/this blog/this request. this is admittedly a short installment, but you've all been so good about waiting and i had a little itch to write tonight. hopefully more of this will be posted soon. i hope you enjoy!

tags :) @intrnetdoll @dazedshoon @lovecaraya @pctcr @sariyaflowr @loser-keiji @prettyplant0 @666findgod @sawaagyapong @rystarkov @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie @galacticstxrdust @elliesbabygirl​ @pinkazelma @ariianelle @lu002 @blairfox04 @sparkleswonderland @elliesflower @muthafuckingstargirl @elliewilliamsissubermommyoml @eviestevie-14 @quicksilversg1rl @guacala @crtcrp @overtrred28

wc: 1.8k

enjoy!

“Hi. I’m Y/N.” 

You sit and extend your hand, smiling as diplomatically as you can manage to the girl sitting across from you. 

She ignores you.

“I said hi,” you repeat.

One painted eyebrow arches the slightest, but she doesn’t look your way. 

You grit your teeth. A question list that you’ve meticulously prepared is memorized and tucked away in your mind, but now you’re just furious that you spent so much time preparing for an interview with someone who wouldn’t even look you in the eye. 

While you wait for the camera crew to get ready, you sit and observe the room—movie posters behind both you and Lina, bright lights that are already making you sweat shone down from above, and a homey oak wood coffee table between you two to give the air of casualness. 

God, you hate this. All you want to do is go home. 

“Ready?” a cameraman says from the side. 

You send a game smile his way. “Ready.”

“We’re rolling.”

“Hi!” said the girl across from you, suddenly laser-focusing her attention on you with so much bubbly energy that it made you feel like you’d gotten whiplash. “It’s so good to meet you. I’m so glad that we were able to do this.”

“Me too,” you respond, saccharine sweet. “You have no idea how excited we are to have you, Lina! It seems like all anyone wants to talk about nowadays is your role in Ontario.”

The interview’s length is oppressive and mind-numbing. By the time you ask your last question and Lina sends you her last dazzling smile, you’re already on the brink of offing yourself on the camera for all to see.

“And cut,” said someone over your shoulder.

You relax, letting out a long breath. That was the last one for the day. You got to go home now.

But since you were a normal human being, you give Lina one last try to redeem herself.

“It was great having you,” you say in a way that you hope reads as genuine. “Thank you for coming in.” 

Lina doesn’t respond—she’s already back on her phone, intent on ignoring you. 

The drive home is awful and long and full of LA traffic. It was something you’d never quite forgive your younger self for—not advocating for yourself sooner. If you had, maybe you would’ve already been taking the subway alongside all the other New Yorkers, surrounded by serious people wearing serious clothes and carrying serious things around in their briefcase.

Instead you got the quirkiness of Southern California, all arid air full of cigarette smoke and lost aspirations. When you first came to LA, naive and blithely optimistic about your prospects as a journalist, you thought that living near Hollywood would be exciting, all the energy and dreams like firecrackers to the social scene. 

Then you got off the plane and realized it’d all been a lie. There’s no hope in a place like Hollywood. It’s the most hopeless place in the world, knowing that all your servers and Uber drivers and retail employees are all working 3 other jobs to make up their rent as they chase a dream that will never happen. 

Because no one ever makes it big. Well—no one really. One year into your life at PopNow! has made you interact with more people who have, you suppose, “made it big”, and each interaction is dependably more absurd than the last. Like Lina. God, you hate Lina. 

You reach your apartment right when the sun is kissing the horizon, the royal purple of the night descending upon the sky. That was another thing you missed—the stars. You’d missed them when you were at Columbia, but that was when you knew you went back home to the midwestern countryside. Now you’re stuck in the light-polluted hell of California, and there’s no way to know when you’re going to get out. 

You should have turned the job down, you think to yourself as you get ready for bed. The face wash you rub into your skin obediently forms into silky little bubbles. You should have just done whatever you’d had to do to stay in New York, even if it meant being unemployed and living in a broom closet with 3 other people. 

But you’re a writer. And you’re getting published, and that’s all that matters.

Or at least that’s what you tell yourself.

~

The assignment is in your inbox when you wake up the next morning at a prompt 5:30am. As you go about your normal routine, you let the words in the message sink in.

Alyssa’s in the hospital. Emergency appendectomy. 

Alyssa’s the most senior writer at PopNow!, regularly netting the juiciest recorded interviews. 

…interview today that needs to be completed…

You angrily beat your legs back into scissor kicks as you run through the motions of your favorite apartment-friendly pilates routine. Today was supposed to be your day off.

…musician Ellie Williams…

…2pm…

…great opportunity…

You have no fucking clue who Ellie Williams is. She’s never been mentioned on NPR or the New York Times, the only two news sources you bother to follow, so she can’t be that relevant. Or at least not relevant enough to warrant you losing your one day off. But that’s what it’s like to be working in showbiz. Your days don’t belong to you anymore. 

By the time that you’re in the studio, hands folded and question list memorized, you feel like you know all you need to know about Ellie. 

She’s got everything you need to be a world-wide sensation. Humble, small-town beginnings? Check. Sympathetic backstory that makes even the most hardened viewer’s heart soften? Check. Conveniently conventionally attractive features, well-placed tattoos, and a certain swagger that seems so natural it has to be somehow hard-coded into her genes? Check, check, and check.

You’ve interviewed hundreds of Ellie Williams. You’re ready for this. 

Jan from production sets out glasses of water on the table in front of you, one for you and another poised in front of the empty chair.

“You ready?” she asks, not unkindly. “Don’t be nervous. I know that this might be a bigger one than you’re used to, but there’s a reason why Stephen asked you to fill in for Alyssa. You’ve got this, honey.”

“Thank you,” you say. The smile you send her back is tense, because as much as you hate to admit it, you are nervous. It’s ridiculous how something you don’t even care about for an industry you think is bullshit is capable of getting under your skin, but you’d done very few recorded interviews. When you imagined what kind of hard-hitting journalism you’d be doing back when you were at Columbia, it was nothing like this. 

You sit and wait, bouncing your leg and hoping the rest of you looks at ease. The set is as corny and soulless as always, one tall houseplant shoved half-heartedly between the two blue cushioned chairs like an afterthought. There’s a stack of magazines on the coffee table between you two, as if you’d crack open People mid-shot.

You hate your job so much. You always feel so bad thinking this way—there are people out there who would probably actually kill for the chance to be rubbing elbows with the celebrities you did on a regular basis—but whenever you start feeling too guilty, you think of how you ended up here, your dream internship getting whisked away by fucking nepo baby Becca, and then you let yourself be angry again. 

A door slams shut, and suddenly you’re all business again. 

The first thing you notice about Ellie Williams is that she’s actually very tiny, especially in comparison to the burly camera man that she squeezes by to make her way on set. She’s looking a little preppier than she does on stage, donning a pair of wide-legged black trousers, chunky black docs, and a haphazardly buttoned forest green shirt with the sleeves rolled up just enough for you to see the entirety of her arm tattoo. 

“Hi.” You rise from your chair to offer a hand, feel the pressure of her fingers gently gripping yours. “I’m Y/N.”

Ellie blinks. “Uh, hi. I’m Ellie.” 

“Is everything alright?” 

“I thought Alyssa was going to be interviewing me,” says Ellie. She drops into the chair opposite of you, crossing a leg over the other thigh.

“Emergency appendectomy,” you supply.

The way Ellie reacts makes you regret this immediately. 

“Oh,” she says, cringing. “Shit—oh, can I swear in here?”

“We’re not rolling yet,” you say gently. 

“That’s, uh, really too bad,” she says. Her tattooed hand reaches up to scrub the back of her neck. “I’m so sorry.”

Now it’s your turn to blink and stare at her blankly. “Um, thanks? I don’t really know her.”

“Right, right.” Ellie lets out a long sigh that you take as an offense. The interview hasn’t even started, and the languid way she reclines back in the chair reads as already bored with you. “So, do we just go ahead and…”

“Yes,” you say, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “Uh, yeah, we’re ready.”

Brilliant start.

The interview begins in earnest, and for once in your life, you’re actually rattled by this girl, by the way she tilts her head at your questions, tongue running over the flat of her front teeth. She has freckles sprinkled across her nose that didn’t show up in any of the photos you’ve seen of her on stage. The ones where she’s awash in blue light, guitar slung over her shoulder and hair sticking to her forehead. It’s disquieting, honestly, how she could just spring a surprise like that on you. 

By some miracle, you manage to get through your list of questions without forgetting anything, but sometimes you stutter on your delivery and have to fight to keep yourself from grimacing. Nothing that she tells you is ground-breaking, nothing you don’t already know. In other interviews, you’re normally able to slip into a sort of conspiratorial voice, prying out information and digging a little deeper than your interviewees intend. But with Ellie, you’re paralyzed, stuck straight to the script that had been sent over to Ellie’s publicist for approval. 

Not like you’d get away with anything when it came to Ellie, either. She has bags under her eyes that you can see concealer creasing in. It’ll wash out post-production under the bright studio lights, but up close it’s obvious that she’s not interested in entertaining any bullshit. 

When it’s over, you’re sure your face is on fire with how hot your cheeks feel. Ellie looks just as nonplussed as ever. 

“It was nice to meet you,” you squeak out. 

She takes her time answering you, busy with draining the glass of water Jan had set out in front of you both and, once it’s empty, fiddling with the buttons on her sleeves. 

“Likewise,” she says, and then before you can think to say anything else, she’s gone. 

[dreamingcricket]

Hi Cricket! I soaked up your Tav/Halsin snippet, about them being injured and shrugging off Halsin's advances, it's absolutely sweet! I kindly request another Tav/Halsin if you don't mind... My Tav is a naive little sunshine and as a tiefling bard loves to dance, sing along and play on her fiddle, I imagine her having skirts that flow around her feet whenever she danced and plays around camp or inn's for some coin. Halsin being in love with Tav and like totally unable to hide it and it's obvious to everyone but Tav themselves. I would love for him to join her dancing, maybe something slower, more intimate with meaningful touches. He loves seeing her so at ease in rare moments like this, even when he's a clumsy dancer. 🤭

I'm so happy people are enjoying these!

Halsin was unused to revelry. 

He couldn't speak for every druid, of course, their kind ranged far and wide in both calling and temperament, but the Emerald Grove was prone only to subdued rites. He certainly couldn't fault the refugees for wanting to release some tension, however, and he wanted to show his appreciation to the small band that had saved him and his grove alike. Her, especially. 

And of course she was at the center of it all.

She reminded him of a celestial center, the hub of a wheel around which everything else turned. She glowed in the firelight, all orange and gold and purple, skirts flying as she fiddled. Music seemed to follow her everywhere. She danced like water, one pattern to the next without pause. It was beautiful. She was beautiful.

“You’re staring.” Shadowheart was difficult to read, as she appeared behind him, goblet in hand. He couldn't tell if her observation was meant to be an admonishment or not.

“I know.” He was usually reserved, if not stoic, and his developing feelings bubbling to quickly to the surface was alarming, but it would do no good to deny it.

"We all know. You're not subtle, Halsin." 

His attention was drawn back to Tav as she laughed. The sound was like the sun on his face.

Shadowheart followed his gaze. “Nobody blames you, Halsin. But she should know.”

“I don’t want to rush her.”

“Under any other circumstances, I’d agree. But we’re running out of time, and…” She shakes her head, clearing the morbid thought. “Just… everyone knows.

She finishes her number with a bow, and yields the stage to Alfira, who begins to pluck a lively tune. Her eyes lock onto Halsin’s and she bounds over, holding out her hands.

“Come, dance with me?”

He could feel the eyes of the camp upon him. Knowing. Halsin coughed. “I’m not much of a dancer. I may trample your feet.”

“That doesn't matter!” She giggled, and leaned in conspiratorially. “Everyone’s too drunk to notice anyway.”

Suddenly, she was pulling on his hand, tugging him to the wide patch of dirt that served as a dancing circle in the middle of camp. His heart hammered against his ribs, and it wasnt from embarrassment. 

He could vaguely recollect the steps, some hazy memories of his youth floated back to him as they began to whirl. A tavern dance, not refined in the slightest, but light and fast, more momentum than intent. While there was something to be said for his particular brand of ursine grace, it didn't lend well to dancing, and he let her lead. Her hands were so small in his, and she flitted around him, almost birdlike. 

“You’ll have to slow down, Tav, I’m not as young as I used to be.” 

She giggled, twirling under his arm. “I think you’re a fine dancer.” 

“The wine has apparently gone to your head, as well.”

“Perhaps. Or maybe it's just good company.”

The music slowed, and their pace changed. They circled each other, hand in hand. She held his gaze, not defiantly, but with tender trust. He hoped beyond hope he wasn't reading too far into her gaze. 

There was an ease to her here he hadn't seen before. The weight she carried throughout the battle at the goblin camp (and how fierce she had been, she had torn through their ranks like a diving hawk) had seemingly lifted. She wasn't a warrior, her hands were gentle as they gripped his, and so small. He loved her already, but even more so like this, when she was unburdened.

He wondered if this was what she was usually like, sans tadpole. There’s a terrible pang in his chest at the thought: that her days were numbered, that she might be doomed. It's quickly followed by a wash of righteous fury. It wouldn't happen. He wouldn't let it. 

She stepped in close. Their palms pressed together, chests nearly touching, and he nearly stopped breathing. She was so close, if he only leaned down, their lips would touch. He was halfway to her, his rational brain screaming to stop and his instincts screaming to kiss her until she couldn't breathe.

And then she pulled away, dropping into a curtsy. The song was over. 

There was already a  buzzing flock of people vying for her attention. Halsin released her hand and bowed out of the center of camp, excusing himself as she leaped onto a rock to begin a new number. 

It had been a long, long time since anyone had made him feel this way. 

He rolled into the grass, reveling in the coolness against his heated skin, and prepared to trance. 

Halsin smelled her before he saw her. Lilac and honeysuckle and musk, and the scent of the open road. She moved to lay beside him in the grass, and whispered, "Can I join you? Everyone is quite drunk, Karlach is sleeping in my tent for some reason, and I’m getting really tired."

"Of course."

He didn't expect her to nestle into his side, his heart began to hammer in his chest, his skin became hot. 

She gazed upwards, and pointed into the sky, at a smattering of stars. "That's the huntsman." Her hand drops back down. "At least I think it is. We didn't have much time for stargazing at home, and the city lights are so bright. But here? I feel I can see every single one."

Halsin pointed upward himself, “The… spine of the dragon? I realize… I don’t know exactly how to say it in common, that’s as close as I can get.”

She hummed. “I can see it. With the wings, there.” She gestured lazily, and he became aware of how close she was for the second time that night. He was less intimidated by his own feelings here, without the watchful eyes of the party, and only the music of night time insects, the grass rising around them like a shelter. She turned her face toward him, blinking slowly, and clearly holding back a yawn. “I think… I’ll just sleep here.”

“That’s fine by me.”

The rhythm of her breathing slows and evens out, and he brushes a stray lock of hair away from her cheek, running his thumb over the apple of her cheek. 

Tomorrow, she would take up her burdens again. She would brave her future with the noble ferocity he had come to admire, he was sure, but he would miss this carefree night. 

Whatever it took, he’d ensure she had many more to come.

[sabokunsmalia]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 ﹙including: flame emperor sabo, trafalgar law, portgas d. ace﹚ ﹙theme: super duper fluffy stuff & second paragraph turns into pure smut, mdni!!﹚

flame emperor sabo

sabo’s soft thumb caressed the skin right underneath your bottom lip. the small crinkle traced by his badly cut fingernail while his dilated pupils glistened with curiosity. he witnessed most of the reactions, and yet, above all he loved to experience new, lingering touches. but this current moment repeated itself since the confession of feelings started. sabo has always been a more gentle man behind closed doors than shown in the eye of the public. your chin propped up on the side of his pointer finger, tilting your head slightly back to steady the intensity of the eye contact. just a simple kiss, a quick peck, seemed impossible for sabo. he wanted the entire experience. watch how the shade of strawberry pink spread across the span of your cheeks, how you resisted the urge to chew on the soft skin of your lip while waiting for sabo to make a move. oh, he loved seeing you fall apart with the slightest touch of his gloveless fingers before his soft rose-colored lips pecked yours. so quickly, awaiting the begging for more because the flame emperor, the revolutionary was a devilish man hidden behind the gentle face of a blonde angel.

— mdni!! nsfw content

sabo knew perfectly which buttons to push to edge you closer to the second orgasm tonight. one was simply an insult to his skilled fingers and seductive tactics. eyes wide open and focused on the way yours fluttered close with each deep thrust of his hips. holding up his weight with his right underarm, sabo placed his left hand underneath your chin. the same position he loved to have you in when not being inside of you. skin slapping against skin echoed through the room, and the tip of the revolutionary’s thumb brushed over your bottom lip. ever so lightly, sabo pushed his thumb into the warmth of your mouth, freeing your plush bottom lip from the assault of your teeth. “don’t do that,” the blonde fire user muttered, punctuating his demand with a particularly harsh thrust. slender fingers underneath your chin pushed slightly, tilting your head further into the neck. a chance to glance at your almost-closed eyes while approaching another orgasm. “the sight makes it so fucking hard to control myself but we do have all night,” he chuckled quietly but was consumed by devilish thoughts while increasing the rhythm of his waist. multiple orgasm were the challenge, and hell, you should have not teased him as much as you did.

trafalgar d. law

nose deeply in the books he carried out of the last library, reading about the myths of the world, and the stories other people told on the pages until the doctor would tell his own. always so busy with the books, the folders, his own notes. so when you burst into his office, attempting to gain his attention or lure him outside on the deck to celebrate a little bit with the crew, law could read your intentions without having to glance at you. so when you stood in front of him, almost too shy to even ask, law used the book in sheets in his hand to help you raise your head and glance at him. pages tightly together, stapled above one another., the upper margins of the book in sheets placed carefully underneath your chin. edges slightly pushed to the inside with his sprawled out hand, and pushing upwards to tilt your head. you knew it was the east way, the soft way of law’s demands to make eye contact. the dust of a sweet cherry red which covered your cheeks forced a thin but small smile on his lips before leaning forward with a quiet chuckle and pecking your chewed up lips as a gesture to greet you in his personal bubble. the only person, right next to bepo, he would allow to walk in without permission.

— nsfw content ahead!! mdni!!

it was a certain surprise when law’s behavior changed in the sheets. he still kept the dominance, he still set the pace. but being on top of you, feeling the sweaty palms of your soft hands explore his chest every single time, it triggered a rather soft side of the doctor to step out. you weren’t scratching, your fingertips carefully traced the tattoo of his jolly roger repeatedly. fingers of his unused hand intertwined with yours, reveling in the warmth and tightness of your gummy walls. the lingering gaze drifted from your eyes down to your lips. the quivering of your bottom one, the way your teeth dragged so harshly across the soft skin while the attempt to suppress a whiny moan failed. the tip of his sharp nose nudged yours multiple times. two to three to get your attention and convince you to open your lids again. once you did, he guided your head upward before his chapped lips found your puffy ones. there was no need to use his hands if he could once in a while show the soft side, he allowed to surface in your presence. not all the time, but enough to show the deep and meaningful emotions he had for you. even while his hips snapped so harshly against yours, and the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the bedroom, law visited not so often. "you're mine, love," he would mutter between deep, almost inaudible groans.

portgas d. ace

there are two ways which only differ slightly and it easily depends on the mood he's in. coming back from a mission after being unable to see your beautiful face for weeks, ace is a tad softer with his touches. calloused palms of his hands placed on each side of your face. little finger along your jaw, the rough pad of his thumb stroking along your smiling lips, taking in each twist and turn in your beautiful features. oh, how he remembered the details so clearly, dreamt of them every night. the first touch is so sweet, so loving. almost leaving traces of admiration along the sharp line of your jaw. but then there's also the second way, ace would hold your face. extremely warm hands placed almost exactly the same, but the calloused palm pushed your cheeks further together. you would immediately know that the fire fist drowned any sorrows in multiple glasses of booze. since the whitebeard pirates loved a good, old feast to celebrate any given day, ace was mostly under the influence of the alcoholic liquid, and acted rather with soft humor than gentle honesty.

— nsfw content ahead!! mdni!!

ace might love to show you how much he loved and adored you, but in ways that weren't exactly described as gentle or soft. pounding into you harshly, the loud sound of skin slapping against skin boomed off the walls of the second division commander's room. as the second division commander of the whitebeard pirates, ace was always involved in trouble, always wanting to help each of his friends so badly, it turned into a day full of stress. and all he needed was being inside of you. gummy walls squeezing his thick dick ever so tightly. but it always ended with you underneath his towering body. legs thrown over his shoulders as he pounded into you. one hand used to keep his weight mostly off your body, the other hand is placed around your jaw. left side, his fingers squeezed the skin of your cheek and on the right side, the thumb mirrored the same gesture. mouth squeezed together, it looked like you prepared so perfectly to take his hard dick between your lips again, and it almost made him cum with the next thrust. instead, ace leaned down, placing his lips against yours and holding you in place while increasing the pace and harshness.