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hoseoksluna · 4 months

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BOOKWORMS | knj

pairing: boyfriend!namjoon x reader

genre: smut; fluff

word count: 4.4k

summary: namjoon thinks of you when he reads a smut scene in his book.

warnings: boyfriend namjoon!!!, kimi namijoon reading, mentions of sex (riding), oral sex (f. receiving), nipple play, the importance of consent, teasing, raw sex, breeding kink <3, big dick namu!!, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, joonie's chain dangling in ur face, tummy bulge, creampie, bruising, hickeys, aftercare:(

note: it took blood, sweat and tears (hehe) to write this and i'm so happy it's finally here!! i loved writing about namjoon. he's my whole soul and the entirety of my heart and i have to write abt him again soon. please take your time reading this and enjoy urself! let me know what you think in the comments mwah (or tell me anonymously in my inbox) and as i always say please like and if u want to - reblog, but i won't pressure u baby. love love you!!

side note: if you want to jump straight to the smut, it's right under the asterisks <;3

You revel, you truly do, in seeing your boyfriend in such a serene state of mind.

Nose buried in a book, Namjoon pays no mind to the surroundings fleeting by him with each flutter of his eyelashes. It goes unnoticed by him, strangely so, how you tidy up the apartment you share. How you feed the two cats that chose you and him to be their human parents. How you fondle their soft ears. How you bend over the furniture to whisper ‘pspsps’ at them when they need a moment away from you just to see their round eyes look up at you stupidly. Namjoon usually observes these moments; this utmost natural behavior of yours. He draws strength from the homeliness of it all with each and every swell of his lungs. Needs it to survive. That is until he gets a hold of that one papery portal and sits comfortably on the couch, one ankle propped over the knee. Then, he ceases to exist in this world.

You’re happy for him. Over time, you’ve come to find that you have a certain fondness for the way he remains stoic. Because you always know what kind of book he’s reading, a smile blossoms on its own over the line of your lips whenever your eye catches the sculpture-like look on his face. It’s like even if he let himself hold his breath, his consciousness would waver back to the earth and the wretched awareness that he’s here, among mortals and the unfair capitalist system aftermath, would stream in his bloodstream, poisoning his experience. It takes the leisure out of it and makes the bed for misery instead. He doesn’t like it. Hates it, in fact. It’s a necessity that he focuses, as he embarks on the journey, because he does it for you.

Namjoon confides in his feelings and his literature with you almost on a daily basis. On the same couch, with the same cats snoring faintly, their small bodies spilling over the perimeter of your tangled legs. Doesn’t matter if it’s his thigh or the curve of your hip. The animals always find a warm crook to doze in, eavesdropping in, with their curious little ears, on the conversations you’re having. Though you reckon they like the meat of his thigh the best. You do, too. Can’t really blame them. The same serenity that intimately knows the person of Namjoon perceives the person of you when he prompts you to rest your head on his lap while he brushes his book-kissed fingers through the silky waterfall of your hair. Thoroughly explains the intricacies of the plot he’s invested in to you. Describes the characters as if they’re real people he’s become acquainted with. They are real to you as you listen. As you ask additional questions and gaze up at his eyes just to catch that one body of a shooting star fiery hot in the glossiness of his eyes. As you wonder, openly, what will happen to them.

“I’ll tell you when they tell me.” He sunk the promise onto the smooth skin of your forehead with the pucker of his lips.

It’s how you discovered, in all seriousness, that the plaster of his stoicism breaks during these literary moments.

Various colors of emotion tug and twist his features, the bare kind. The unrestrained kind. You know it’s a relief for him when the dam bursts open, soaking you in the beauty of humanness one only finds in literature these days. You can’t help but fall in love with him all over again when his eyebrows furrow. When his orbs nearly burn a hole in the ceiling when he’s trying to think of the right word that will ultimately help him convey the unfolding of the storyline. When he gives up and weaves English into his sentences, relying on his hands to say what his overstimulated brain fails to do.

He reads to pass knowledge to you. The serenity whispered it into the chambers of your heart, a puff of hot breath in winter’s cold. It soothingly rubbed his shoulders when Namjoon told you there used to be a time when he couldn’t stand the sight of his books lining up the walls of his apartment. Wanted to burn it down and watch as the evidence of his melancholy dies in front of him. Because that’s what most of his book collection consisted of back then. The innermost shadowy faces of his pain. Loneliness. Sadness. Despair from life, from it not being enough for him, from it not saving a spot there for him–not once throughout the course of his life. That’s why he reads different kinds of books now. Ones that do not reflect his survival before you.

The reader has to get wiser, ruffled by life in order to gain more, gain what they need from those once deeply loved pages. It’s what the serenity believes. It’s what you believe and hope for Namjoon. That one day, somehow by the healing of the love you give him, he will look back and pick a souvenir from that moonless country of pain. Put it up somewhere between the spines of his new cluttered collection. Look at it from time to time and sense that it’s telling him something. Something that will fill the stitched-up cracks in his heart with sunlight. Something that he will pass over to you. It’s your love language after all. Namjoon reads because you read. It’s his own personal healing thing.

You two are just a pair of two bookworms. Unfit for the world outside. Fit for the land you two created. Whose soil you take care of together.

***

Dinner is almost ready by the time you feel his fingertips gripping your hips. You hum, acknowledging his presence. Glad for the homely heat that radiates off of his body and seeps into your bones as you stir the risotto you decided to make on the stove. Coldness had been embracing you all day while he read so you’re overjoyed that he ripped it away from you.

Namjoon places a kiss on your temple and you sigh in relief. You might be too dependent on him, but so is he. He wouldn’t be nuzzling his face in your hair, squeezing your waist, peppering kisses on your tender skin if he wasn’t. It’s the perfect balance. And it’s not that you’re not able to be away from each other. The principle of looking forward to one another is what makes it so sweet, so endurable for the pair of you. Of the coming back and coming into contact at the end of the day. It’s natural. Simple. Human.

“Missed me?” Namjoon husks into your ear.

You smirk and turn off the stove, turning around to face him. “Terribly.”

His body is clad in a black T-shirt that fits his broad figure well and a pair of baggy sweats of the same color, having discarded the warm crewneck he was wearing earlier somewhere in the universe of his book. A long silver chain twinkles in the middle of his chest in the yellow light. You caress it with your fingers and leave your palm there, on the hardness of his pecs.

“I finished the book,” he says and you blink up at him. You’re not surprised at all. “Couldn’t put it down.”

Sleepy wrinkles have left their mark on his face from the cozy position he laid in for too long on the couch. His short sunlit hair, grown healthily from his military service, is tousled in all directions and you smooth it down for him. How did God bless you with such a beautiful man is something you’ll wonder about for the rest of your life.

“What happened to Theo in the end?” you ask, genuinely curious about whether one of the characters you’ve grown attached to is okay after all the shit the author put him through.

Namjoon was reading a coming-of-age book about a boy named Theo. A panorama of his childhood and adolescent life, you’ve heard all about it. Namjoon cared a lot about this story, cared a lot about the protagonist’s emotions and reactions to the reappearing storms. What made him stick with it, despite the nearly triggering themes, is the fact that Theo never let go of his optimism no matter what. It was incredibly inspiring for Namjoon. Something new. Something that he never thought could be possible. You’re proud of him for daring to read a book so reminiscent of his past.

“You’re not gonna believe it,” Namjoon says, a blush creeping along his cheeks.

You raise one of your eyebrows in question.

“Theo got laid,” Namjoon reveals, laughing softly. “I’m so happy for him.”

You gasp and burst into giggles. “What?”

“He got some!”

Your laughter rises in volume. “He lost his virginity and that’s the end?”

“It was a big moment for him. A triumph of some kind. Like he shed his old skin and left that broken life behind. It was amazing.” Namjoon’s eyes glint with tiny shooting stars and you melt. He always finds poetic meanings in the varieties of the character arcs. You think you just fell in love with him all over again.

“That’s really beautiful,” you admit. It reminds you of something. Of something quite personal. “My first time with you changed my life as well.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows curl in tenderness. Dragon eyes widen and round in fervent emotion. He squeezes his arms around you, enfolding you in a hug. Kisses you warmly. Strokes your hair down your back. Your own eyes pool with little tears with the intimate knowledge that you chose the right person to unfold your raw femininity with. No one, no man other than him could have created such a safe for that to happen.

“Tell you what,” Namjoon says a bit hoarsely. “I saw us in it.”

You hum, encouraging him to continue. Crave for more of his thoughts and confidential findings. Its fire spreading through your body, as each word of his registers in your brain, always makes you feel phenomenally alive. You’re not timid to avow that it’s your addiction. Shame doesn’t know you.

“Elena was on top and he was watching her. In awe of her,” he murmurs, caressing your cheek with the tip of his thumb. “Made me think of our last time. A life changing experience of mine as well.”

You welcome the fire and suspire with sudden desire, eyes lidding. Your heart begins to thump. Namjoon studies your reaction.

“You remember well, don’t you?” He nudges his nose against yours. “I was in awe of you just the same.”

It’s impossible not to remember. The memory consumes your mind every waking hour. Gets you needy in ways you haven’t felt before. Namjoon had you sat on his lap among the fluffiness of your innumerable pillows and plushies. Had you do all the work as he focused on the sleekness of your freshly moisturized calves, its coconut aroma interfused with the scent of sex and the euphony of your bounces, ragged breaths and broken moans making his head all fucked up. He was loud himself, more loud than you ever recalled him being. Reading your body at the mercy of the pleasure his hard length was giving you with his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. Not once did he take his eyes off of you, not once did he help you. Just gripped your calves. Your thighs. Your tits all in his face. Only when you came hard, out of your own delightful merit, did his eyes roll back. You left his hips glazed with the evidence of your well-deserved orgasm, a porcelain statue made glossy.

A little later, during your pillow talk, he told you he’d found the idea of you using him while getting yourself off extremely hot. Made him more hard than he’d been in a while. Begged you to be even more selfish next time, adding an indistinct, ‘well, of course, if you want’ to the end of his sentence because he’s Namjoon.

“I do,” you breathe. “Touched myself to it this morning while you were still asleep.”

Namjoon groans. “God.” He kisses the side of your neck. Gets close to your ear. “You wanna do it again, hm? Wanna fuck me?”

You might burst. His closeness, his heat, his need to ask for your consent turns you unstable. You’re choked up on your words, mind too fuzzy to say something. Turned on. Fucked up.

“You wanna show me how you touched yourself?” Namjoon continues, but you shake your head against the side of his face.

You had touched yourself in the shower. Couldn’t say no to the impulse. Sharing that part of you for his eyes to see isn’t something you’re quite ready for. To you, it’s still something that’s yours. Something private. A courage you have yet to pluck up. You’re afraid to give him this last part of your femininity.

“Not today,” you whisper, planting a kiss on his neck. Feel him shiver. “I’m sorry. Do you mind?”

Withdrawing from your neck, Namjoon looks you dead in the eye, brows twisted in stern seriousness. “Don’t ever apologize for something like that again. Hear me when I say that.”

You squeeze his shoulder, the corners of your mouth lowering in a pout. Thankfulness grips your heart and suddenly it’s hard to breathe.

“You know this is why we do this right?” he asks you. “Why I ask you these questions? I need to always know what you’re comfortable with so I don’t make a mistake.”

You nod. “Yes, Namjoon, I know and I’m so thankful.”

“Good. I’ll never push you to do anything you don’t want. Don’t forget that, okay?”

“Okay, I won’t.”

“That’s my girl.

You grab him by the back of his neck and engulf him in a hug. Luckiest girl in the world? That you are. The fact that you’re his is still something you can’t wrap your head around.

“We can stop. We don’t even have to do anything tonight—”

“No, Namjoon.” You withdraw. “Look.” Wrapping your hand around his wrist, you slip his hand beneath the confines of your panties.

His breath shakes when he reaches your soaked folds. He traces your hole with his middle finger and your hips follow his movement, the pleasure so faint but so good that you flutter your eyes closed.

“Fuck, baby.”

“Yeah, I need you. Need more,” you breathe out. “Can’t leave me like this, can you?”

Namjoon hums. “No, I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of this pussy.”

He kisses you. Massages his tongue against yours. You buck your hips into his hand and Namjoon hears your body language. Takes his fingers up and rubs your swollen clit from side to side, quickening his pace as he swallows your moans down his throat. Gets angry at your tight leggings hindering him in giving you more, so he gets on his knees and swiftly pulls them down along with your underwear.

“Sit on the counter.”

You comply right away. Namjoon takes your feet in his hands and gently removes your slippers, removing your garments fully so they don’t pool around your ankles. He needs your legs spread and he needs them spread wide for what he’s about to do to you.

Torso long enough to reach you, he remains on his knees. Runs his hands up the back of your thighs to guide you into the position he wants you in. “Lock your arms around the back of your knees. Don’t let go.”

You do as he says, biting your lips in nervousness. Intertwine your hands together. Prepare yourself to die.

Namjoon studies your dewy pussy, index and middle finger mimicking the letter V as he slides them up and down your folds, squeezing just right to hear you mewling. Your knees being so close together makes her look a lot more pillowy and you hear Namjoon breathe hard, absolutely hypnotized by the beauty of your flesh.

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping down my hand.” He withdraws his fingers to show you how your slick trickles down the lines on his palm, changing the course of his life once and for all.

Your clit throbs, breath matching his. “Please, Namjoon.”

He curses inaudibly. Brings his fingers back down to your folds, squeezes your lips and your clit together. Hisses at the sweet whimpery sounds spilling out of your mouth. Presses tighter so you whine needily for him. Takes you into his mouth when he accomplished what he wanted, tonguing your clit in slow agonizing circles that has you buckling your hips again. Puts his hands on your thighs to keep you down, flicking fast to absolutely abuse the fuck of you. Dragon eyes zeroing on yours, he gives you the hypnosis that your pussy did to him as he sucks on your bundle of nerves. You can’t even scream. Can’t breathe. The pleasure overwhelms you wholly and straps you down. There’s nothing you can do but take it.

You come hard on his tongue. Namjoon laps it all up gladly. And when he’s finished, he stands up and slips those two digits that ruined you into your hole. Doesn’t move them. Lets you adjust instead.

“One more,” he mutters. “Please.”

You nod.

“Use your words or we’re stopping.”

You groan and close your eyes, your thighs visibly shaking in your iron grip from your orgasm. “Yes, Namjoon, one more. I’ll come for you.”

Namjoon places a wet kiss on your thigh to praise you, and to thank you as well. Begins to move his fingers promptly, but can’t seem to get enough of your skin. Proceeds to make it shiny with his liquid love, sucking it to bruise you. To remember this moment a little more fondly in the morning.

Creating a trail up to the back of your knee, his digits pick up the speed. The pool of slick you left in his palm sloshes with each rapid thrust of his hand. He looks back at you and sees you lost in the pleasure, eyes lidded and unfocused. “Look at me.”

You do, weakly.

“Just a little bit more and I’ll fuck you, all right?”

You’re about to nod, but decide against it. “Mhm, yes, Namjoon, fuck.”

He smiles down at you. Your relief inches closer. “I’m so proud of you for speaking up today. For letting me know.”

You could cry right now. Because of his fingers making you feel so good. Because of his kindness making you feel so safe. It all closes in on you and you whimper.

Abruptly, Namjoon unravels your grip on your knees and kisses you, tongue slipping in. You come all over his hand, without meaning to, and he doesn’t stop. On the contrary, Namjoon fucks you harder. Takes all four of his fingers and strums your clit, prolonging your orgasm, swallowing down all of your moans.

“Come on.”

Namjoon helps you down. If it weren’t for his arms holding you steady, you would’ve collapsed on the floor. Your legs shake, muscles taut and tense.

“I got you.”

Sat on the floor with his joggers and boxers pulled beneath his crotch, he pulls you down on his lap. A wisp of precum adorns his tip and you wrap your hand around it, collecting it with your thumb. Watch him as you swirl your tongue around the digit before sucking on it, letting go with an obscene pop. Namjoon licks his lips, hands clasping your hips hard enough to bruise you. Twitches in your other hand.

“Don’t fucking do that to me, baby.”

You laugh almost inaudibly, drunk on him. “Are you gonna come in me?”

He replaces your hand, holding his length at the base for you to sink down. And you do, gasping softly at his thickness. Your dewiness helps it to be a smooth ride.

“Gonna pump you full. Leave you dripping,” he promises, voice restrained. “Gonna fuck you so good you’ll remember it for the rest of your life.”

One thing about Namjoon, he’s a man of his word.

Seated perfectly on him, he waits for you to adjust. Alleviates the tremble of your thighs with his palms, massaging the muscles. Takes off your shirt and flings it across the kitchen. Gropes your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers. You start to grind on him, throwing your head back. He latches onto your nipple and flicks the nub with his tongue. You lose your mind, leaking down his balls.

“Ready?” he asks against the fullness of your breast.

“Yeah, fuck me, Joon.”

He thrusts into you once to watch you fall apart. Locks your arms behind your back. Grabs your forearms for his use.

“You forgot something.”

He thrusts again, harder this time.

“What?” you breathe out, meekly.

“What word do you use when you want to ask for something?”

He watches you as you work it out in your brain. Fucks into you three more times, equally hard, to disrupt you.

“Fuck, sorry. Please, Joon, please.”

He grinds, hips rotating in circles.

“Uh-huh, that’s right. Now use it.”

Namjoon envelops your tit in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your areola. Sucking. Keeping up the agonizing pace. Groaning when you clench down on him.

“Please, hmph, fuck me.”

Your breast bounces back when he lets go, biting his lip. “Knew you could do it,” he coos. “Smart fucking girl.”

He begins to fuck you properly. Thrusting up and down as he holds you steady, keeping his eyes locked on yours. As he takes control of your squirming, leaving his fingerprints on your forearms and waist. You’re breathless, whimpering, on the verge of sobbing. So turned on and needy for him that the emotions brim in you, threatening to spill over.

“Aren’t you?” Namjoon continues. “Aren’t you a smart girl?”

You nod, knowing exactly what he wants to hear. “I’m a smart girl.”

He spanks your ass to reward you and you arch your back. Tits all in his face. He’s mesmerized watching them bounce and nearly slap against each other, nubs hard and pointed. He licks them up, flicking them with his tongue. You round your shoulders a little in pleasure, his strong grip not letting you fold like your body wants.

“That’s right. So smart and good for me. So fucking wet. Making me lose my mind.”

Namjoon kisses you. Inhales you. Withdraws only for a mere second before he’s back, tongue in, toying with you the way you like it. You feel your relief calling your name.

“Namjoon, I’m so fucking close. I’m so close. I’m gonna come,” you whine, forehead pressed against his, face twisted in ecstasy.

Namjoon stops out of the blue and slips out of you. You whine loudly, but before you know it, he carries you to the couch and lays you down on it. Takes off all of his clothes until only his silver chain remains, shining bright in the dim light. He spreads your legs, one limb over the backrest, the other around his thigh. Grips his length and tugs at it a few times, the feeling of your wetness making him slippery pulling moan after moan out of him.

He enters you again and resumes his fast pace, holding your calf in his hand. “Smart girls come on the couch, not on the floor like whores. You got that?”

You nod almost too eagerly, fucked out beyond measure. “Yes, Joon, please make me come. Please, come here.”

Namjoon leans towards you, propping his elbows by your head, cradling you. “I’m here. I’m gonna make you come.”

From this angle, he fucks you more deeply than before, his tip reaching your cervix. You roll your eyes back, but bring them right back to his face when his chain taps you on the chin. You find it so hot that you grind your hips against his, meeting his thrusts, encouraging him to fuck you harder. The chain meets you in erratic staccatos and you scratch your nails down his bare back, the sword-like pendant hurting you in a way that you like.

Namjoon notices. Slows down his movements. Pinches the chain from the back of his neck. Prompts you to lift your head and slides it over, letting it rest in the middle of your breasts. Then fucks you back into the couch.

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips. “Gonna breed you. Hm. You want that, don’t you?”

The cord tightens in your lower belly. The bulge of where his tip is hitting you nudges him in his stomach and he looks down. Curses.

“Look.”

You follow his eyes and moan. “Namjoon, Namjoon, please come in me. I’m so close. Wanna feel you. Please.”

He grunts, nodding his head. Licks his fingertips and presses them against your clit. Pleasures you in fast and swift jerks until you’re knocking your head back. Only when he grabs your jaw and kisses you does the cord snap, his lips being your ultimate undoing.

Namjoon presses you down with his body, keeps you calm and collected. Kisses you all through it, your jaw, your neck, your cheeks. Then his thrusts turn sloppy and his cock twitches in you. He gives you one final hard thrusts and fills you up, groaning against your mouth.

You’re smoothing down the sting of your scratches on his back when he pulls out of you and his cum drips out of you. You wish you could see what he sees, hand on his mouth, careful to catch his drool. You push out more for him and he curses, fondling your pussy with his thumb before he pumps it back in.

He comes back to you and kisses you. Fixes your hair. Caresses your cheek. Helps you stand on your feet as he leads you into the shower. Washes every inch of your body, heedful of the bruises he left on the back of your thigh. Lathers your hair in your favorite shampoo. Wraps you in a towel. Wanted to moisturize your body, but you told him off, knowing both of you would get horny again. You let him brush your hair, though, placing a comb in his hand. He’s gentle as he undoes the knots, then he blowdries your hair.

And you do the same for him.

Once the pillow touches your cheeks, you’re both out like a light.

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star-sim · 2 months

Text

too sweet ☆ jay park

☆ bad boy! jay x nerd! fem! reader ☆ summary: after months of an on-and-off relationship with you, jay feared that he'd hurt you. you know that he won't. maybe a few sweet words (and kisses) could convince him. ☆ genre: angst to fluff, suggestive, inexperienced! reader (-ish), jay is really really really DOWN BAD, insecurities ☆ warning(s)? n/a ☆ word count: 2.0k words ☆ everyone clap for hozier’s “too sweet," for my starved jay stans

reblogs and feedback are appreciated!!

"So, you're telling me that you want us to end?"

Jay sucked in a sharp breath, clasping his hands together. "That's not what I mean."

You scoffed, narrowing your eyes at him. The thin gold chain hanging around his neck kissed his honey gold skin deliciously, his silvery hair falling over his brows. You watched as Jay rubbed his knuckles, his jaw clenching with each thought that ran through his mind.

"Then what do you mean?"

If he thought that you'd ever let him go, he was insane.

Jay took a moment to think, before words tumbled from his lips in a slow drawl, as if he was afraid of them.

"We can't be together because I'll hurt you," he said simply.

Jay watched your expression closely, eyeing your swollen lips— God, were they perfect, like always— as they curled. He could hear the cogs turning in your head, and for a second, Jay thought that he could win the fight.

You and Jay met under rather interesting circumstances. He was slacking in his classes, running the risk of not passing the semester, so the counselors stepped in and had you to help.

At first, Jay thought you were the most insufferable snob there was. But the next thing he knew, he was pinning you against the wall, hungrily kissing you like he was a starved man and you were his salvation. There was always something so intoxicating about you, the way you were able to chide into his ear why he was failing his classes, yet stayed silent with wide, innocent eyes as his fingers squeezed your thighs. Jay longed for the way you could read him like a book, the way that your black pawns stacked up against him, cornering his white king that made it impossible to escape, all the while holding a polite smile on your face.

It was always unconventional; how could the school's most notorious slacker and shady delinquent even be in the same room as the smartest girl?

Everyone seemed to have something to say about it, and for a second, Jay couldn't help but drink up every word, falling deeper and deeper into the abyss that was his mind.

You were too good for him. You had everything laid out for you, you were just perfect. He wasn't. He was troubled, and stupid, and brash.

He was mean and bitter, you were bright and sweet.

So sweet.

Too sweet.

"You'll hurt me?" you scoffed again, looking at him incredulously.

Under your critical gaze, Jay nearly faltered, as if this wasn't the millionth time that he reconsidered this entire conversation, as if he didn't crave your touch every waking second.

Just ten minutes ago, you were on top of him, your fingers tangled in his hair, ravaging his lips like they were your last meal. Knowing that he was the one that taught you that— how to devour him like a starved hyena— made him feel dizzy.

"When have you ever hurt me?" you pressed, your face pinched.

It was only when your delicate fingers began to unbutton his shirt, soft, but desperate, breaths brushing up against his collarbone, that Jay gently pushed you away, taking you off of his lap and letting you sit beside him on your bed.

"I haven't," Jay swallowed the lump in his throat, unable to ignore the nerves bundling in his stomach, gnawing at him, almost like they were screaming at him to stop. "But I can, a-and I know I will if we don't stop seeing each other."

"What makes you think that?"

Jay chewed on his lip, thinking about his next move.

Loving you was like playing a game, a game where life and death were at stake. He was willing to roll every dice and destroy every odd if it meant being with you.

You were stone-faced, save for the questioning quirk of your eyebrows, but Jay knew better.

The moment that the words "I think we should break up" left his lips, Jay could see your pawns retreating; he could see the way that your walls were beginning to come up again, the cage wrapped around your heart tightened, and all he wanted to do was hold you and apologize.

But he couldn't, because this was for the best.

He'd rather hurt you once, than hurt you a million more times in the future.

He was afraid of himself, of what his hands could do, of what tears you would shed over him.

He was fundamentally flawed, someone who could not be fixed. That was something that both you and him needed to accept.

"You know me," Jay murmured, his eyes glued to the fluffy carpet on the floor. He couldn't look you in the eye after this, after hurting you. "I'm not good for you."

You stayed silent for a few pulses, only the sound of your shaky breath filling Jay's ears.

Then, you reached out for him. But, the moment that you soft fingers met his shoulder, Jay violently flinched away.

He knew that if he let you touch him, he'd never be able to pull away.

"Jay..." Your voice was small, and when he looked up to see your face, your brows were furrowed together. You looked hurt, and he wanted to punch himself; he wanted to melt into your warmth, feel your hands on his skin, and taste the paradise that was your lips.

You slowly retracted your hand, something that made Jay's heart ache.

"Sorry..." he mumbled, quickly averting his gaze once again. After today, he didn't deserve to look at you.

Another few pulses pass in sheer silence, a silence so suffocating that Jay felt his throat tighten.

"Did it mean anything to you?" you finally asked shakily.

"W-What?"

"Did anything that we did at least mean something to you?"

The word "yes" almost came spilling out of his mouth, eager to prove to you that he indeed loved you— loved you enough to save you. But, Jay stopped himself.

You would never take an explanation that didn't make sense. You'd push and push and push until you got the truth.

He couldn't draw this out any longer, or else he'd crack.

"No," Jay pushed out of his mouth, grimacing at the bitter taste on his tongue.

He heard you take in a breath, before you clicked your tongue.

You didn't believe him, and you weren't going to take no for an answer.

"Tell me the truth," you murmured. "All those times we've kissed, why would you kiss me first if it meant nothing?"

He really couldn't do this, he couldn't lie to you.

"W-Well, it's because you're always close to me." Horrible explanation, and he knew it.

You cocked a brow. "No one’s forcing you to kiss me."

Jay gulped. You were reading him like a book, seeing right through him.

"Any man in my position would kiss you," he stammered, unaware that the way his nose scrunched gave him away. Jay's eyes glazed over you. God, you were just so beautiful. "I mean, look at you."

His ears burned with shame, blinking back hot tears that brimmed his eyes. He couldn't believe that he was actually doing this, purposefully lying to your face. He felt disgusting; weak. You were the first person that he's ever loved, the first person that made him feel all sorts of weird, giddy feelings, the first person that made him feel safe and loved. He was ruining it for himself, but he'd rather ruin himself than ruin you. After this, how was he ever going to recover? He couldn't imagine his life without you, not after feeling your warmth, not after having the privilege of seeing you beneath him, pretty eyes filled with stars gazing up at him—

If Jay wasn't so caught up in his head, he'd notice the way that you observed his flickering expression, before suddenly climbing back onto Jay.

"H-Hey—!"

You pushed Jay down onto the bed so that he was lying on his back, sitting right on his abdomen, pinning him down for good.

"You're a horrible liar," you muttered before grabbing his face, pressing sticky kisses against his jaw.

No, no, no! This isn't supposed to happen! You're supposed to hate him!

Your lips trailed from his jaw to the crook right below his ear, the spot that you knew was Jay's sensitive spot. You bit down just enough to make Jay let out a high-pitched sigh. You pulled away, admiring the purple-pink mark you left on his skin, before trailing down to the birthmark on his neck. You ran your tongue over the heart-shaped mark. Jay's hand jerked out for your waist, squeezing it.

"B-Baby..." he breathed, slipping back into his habit of using that name for you. His mind was doing everything in its power to resist you, but all he could do was tilt his head back to give you better access to his neck.

"Baby?" you purred against the shell of his ear. "Thought I didn't mean anything to you."

"I— Shit, don't do that, Baby—" you slid your hand under his shirt, your lips making vulgar noises as it attached to his honey skin.

"I don't fucking care if you hurt me," you spat in his ear, and chills ran down his spine. Since when were you so... obscene?

What has he done to you, for you to start off as an innocent and curious girl and end up shamelessly touching him? Had he corrupted you too much?

"You said you wanted to give me the best firsts?" your voice was so harsh, so mean that Jay almost questioned how someone so sweet could be so ruthless. It also made him question why in the hell it made his stomach do a flip. You bit down on a collarbone. "Then stop being a pussy and just let me love you."

Jay threw his head back, letting a groan escape his lips. God, how was he going to win this? How was he going to ignore the shudder of his shoulders as you touched him? How was he going to act like his body wasn't yearning for you?

"I'm pretty and you know it," you rasped in his ear. "So stop resisting me."

Your words were candied, sweet like syrup, seeping into his head and swaying all resolve he had. He almost gave in. Almost.

"L-Look, I know you’re hot and all," it took every fiber in Jay's being to not give into your tantalizing lips, "B-But you know this is wrong."

You hummed against his skin. "But I don't."

Jay's rendered speechless when you press your hips against his, squeezing his eyes shut. His stomach did a flip, a wave of heat coursing through his body. It felt electric, it felt wrong.

"I don't know that this is wrong, and even if I did, I wouldn't care" your tone is so soft, so innocent, but your actions were so dirty. "Ignorance is bliss."

Jay opened his mouth to let more dumb words pour out, dumb words that were his final (and extremely futile) attempt to restrain himself, but his breath got caught in his throat when they ran your hands through his silver hair, gripping it and pulling it back. You held his head in place by his hair. The sensation of pain on his scalp was delicious, enough to make him feel like putty in the palm of your hands.

"If you don’t stop," his voice was airy and high-pitched now, labored breaths escaping his lips. He wasn't going to win this fight. He never was going to in the first place, not when you were his opponent, "I don't know if I'll be able to control myself."

"Then don't," you said simply against his neck. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes. Your eyes were wide and shiny, innocently staring up at him. Your voice was so pretty and sweet, so sweet that he couldn't believe that you were doing and saying all these things to him. "Don't control yourself."

As Jay fell back into the comfort of the mattress, letting heat spread across his chest and face as you hungrily sunk your teeth into what was his heart, his Adam's apple bobbed.

You were too sweet for him, too sweet for a bitter person like him.

He wouldn't mind getting tooth decay, yeah?

675 notes · View notes

wintrwinchestr · 2 months

Text

kiss it better

the killer & the sound - chapter 2

summary: you’re with the band, officially. you’ve met them, rehearsed with them all of two times, and now it’s the tour’s opening night. pretty nerve-wracking, but nothing you can’t handle, right? that is, until Joel asks you last-minute to perform their suggestive hit single Kiss it Better with them, live on stage. before you know it, your teenage dreams are coming true, in more ways than one.

warnings: 18+, smut, no outbreak au, no use of y/n, rockstar!joel, aspiring rockstar!reader, d/s dynamics, pretty major daddy kink, age gap (reader is early-mid 20’s, joel is early-mid 50’s), heavy flirting, pet names (darlin’, sweetheart, baby, babygirl, etc), shy/anxious reader, a little dub-con bc reader has a couple drinks but is alert and consenting, joel refers to reader’s pussy as she/her, smoking, power imbalance & joel using it to his advantage, exhibitionism (suggestive performance onstage but no sexual activity), lapsitting, praise kink, finger sucking, tummy bulge, unprotected p in v sex, some angst, let me know if i missed any!!

word count: 11.5k (i’m sorry or you’re welcome)

a/n: thank you so much for your patience and interest in this story!! i’m sorry i took so long, but i hope you enjoy another chapter of rockstar!joel that somehow turned out longer than the first one. thank you as always to my best girl kiers i love you so much and i’m so happy our baby rockstar brought us together <3 thank you for reading, nice comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed!!

series masterlist

divider by @saradika-graphics

It was only a handful of days ago that you had received the life changing invitation to open for Death’s Head on their sold out national tour. And it was only a handful of years ago that something like this was an unachievable fever dream, something you could pantomime in the shower or in the car, but still unsure if your hard work and commitment would ever pay off.

It’s been a complete whirlwind, your teenage dreams coming true in the span of less than a week. And now here you sit, shut away in your dressing room, leg bouncing up and down like a jackhammer as you add a final coat of mascara and one last sticky swipe of lip gloss. Meeting your own gaze in the vanity mirror, you fidget with your necklace, eyes wide and unblinking as you try to suppress a complete freakout.

A sudden knock on the door startles you from your daze, followed by a familiar gravelly voice asking your name. It’s Joel. You invite him in, and although you had seen him at soundcheck earlier in the day, it’s the first time you’re seeing him in the clothes he’s chosen to perform in tonight: black button-down shirt with western-style embroidery on the pockets, generously opened at the top to expose his tattooed chest. He pairs it with his signature black leather jacket, black jeans, and black boots with a pointed silver toe. He’s got various chains and metalwork adorning his ensemble, making him jingle and clink as he moves.

“Jus’ wanted to drop by before you go on, tell ya to ‘break a leg’ and everythin’...” He stands in the doorway, the thumb of one hand hooked on a belt loop while the other rests above his head against the doorframe. He looks you up and down quickly. “Look real pretty, darlin’, ‘s a nice dress.”

You look down at yourself, so flustered and not in your own head that you have to remind yourself of what you’re wearing. “Oh, th-thanks. Just bought it yesterday, got it special for tonight.”

“Certainly is special…” He muses, shutting the door behind him before taking a few long strides in your direction. “You feelin’ okay, sweetheart, feelin’ good?” He pulls up an extra chair from the corner of the room as he speaks, setting it down next to where you sit in front of your vanity. He spins it around in his grip to sit on it backwards, dark denim-clad thighs straddling the backrest of the chair. You resist the urge to stare at how his strong body stretches the material.

You opt to answer him with a lie, trying to sound as convincing as possible. “Yeah, ‘m fine.”

He drops his chin, looking at you from underneath his dark lashes. “Now why don’t I believe you? We've been over this, darlin’. Nothin’ to be scared of, yeah?” He places a large hand on your knee in an attempt to halt its incessant movement.

“‘S just a lotta people… never played in front of crowds this big before. Mostly just did a bunch of bars before now, maybe a community center or somethin’ every so often, but never a crowd bigger than a thousand. And there’s gonna be, like, ten thousand people out there.”

“Try doublin’ that.”

Your eyebrows shoot towards your hairline, and it feels like your heart just dropped into your stomach, a red hot piece of iron ore sinking into freezing water.

“Shit, shouldn’t’a said nothin’.” Joel shakes his head, pinching between his brows before lightly gripping your chin so that you stay focused on him. “Look at me. Remember our talk in the car the other day, don’tcha?” You nod your head in his grasp. “Said all about how good you are. Believe force o’ nature is the term I used, wasn’t it?” You can’t help but crack a smile at his compliment, and he returns one in the form of that canine-like grin of his. “You can do this, babygirl, yeah?”

Oh, that’s a new one. You decide you like the sound of it already, how it rolls off his tongue coated in his gravelly drawl.

You nod again in understanding, but he seems dissatisfied. “Say it back to me, sweetheart,” he instructs.

“I-I can do this,” you reply, your voice quiet, embarrassed of having to reassure yourself to his face.

“One more time, lil’ louder, like you mean it.”

You try again, attempting to infuse the sentence with a little more confidence. “I can do this.”

He seems content with your second try, and swipes at your chin before rising from his seat. “Fuck yeah, y’ can. Gonna knock ‘em dead, baby.”

He takes one last look at you before he leaves the room, and reminds you that you’re ‘Sposed to be on in fifteen, darlin’. See ya out there. He winks at you before closing the door, and then you’re alone again. Savoring your last few minutes to yourself, you decide to pace a few laps around the small room, running through a few more vocal warmups in an effort to drown out the sound of babygirl, babygirl, babygirl echoing around in your thoughts. Jesus Christ. It’s like he finds it impossible to comfort you without throwing in a little something extra to work you back up again. Though, you suppose you’d rather have your nervous energy redirected to him than to keep it focused on the endless expanse of people you’re about to be introduced to for the first time.

What if they hate your music? What if you forget your own lyrics? What if they think you’re not good enough?

You take a guess that they’ve hit the lights in the venue now, judging by the cacophonous roar of voices that just erupted from somewhere sounding altogether too close and too far away at the same time. Too late to back out now. Not that he’d let you.

You brace your hands on the vanity counter, looking yourself in the eye one last time before you make your way to the stage. “I can do this,” you repeat the little mantra to your reflection. “I can do this, I can do this, Joel said I can do this.” A final deep breath and a tousle of your hair before you’re swinging the dressing room door open, heavy lace-up boots carrying you to the wings of the stage where your band members are already waiting to go on. It’s dark backstage, and it takes your eyes a second to adjust before they land on Joel. The accents of silver decorating his face and scattered throughout the clothing he wears catch some of the light from the stage, helping you to identify his form. You acknowledge him, but keep your feet planted where they are, flexing your hands and then clenching them into little fists as you try to peek at the audience, relishing your final moments of being a relative nobody. Your chords, your lyrics, your innermost thoughts are still only known to you and a few handfuls of others, for the next few minutes at least. Your life, your career, begins tonight, there, on that daunting and expansive stage. Angel is already out there waiting for you, beckoning to you, if only you could just push off the balls of your feet and go to her. You wish Cat were here.

A rough hand perches itself on your shoulder, and a low voice begins to speak close to your ear. “Everythin’s all set, show starts whenever you’re ready, sweetheart.”

“Okay,” you half-whisper, giving a swift nod of your head, swallowing hard and worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. His hand applies some pressure to the slope of skin between your neck and shoulder, massaging the muscle.

“Gotta relax, sweetheart, c’mon. Breathe with me. In…” He inhales deeply, and you mimic the action, holding your breath until he permits you to let it go. “And out…”

He moves his hand to your upper back, course calluses scratching against the patch of soft skin exposed by the low back of your dress. “Gonna be back here the whole time. You start gettin’ nervous, you look at me, ‘kay?” He speaks the phrase slowly, like he’s trying not to spook a newborn animal. You suppose he’s validated in that, the way you do feel a little like a fawn about to walk out onto a frozen lake.

You turn your head to face him over your shoulder. “Okay. Um… wish me luck, I guess.”

“Don’t need it, babygirl.”

The both of you share a knowing smile once more, and it makes enough of your nerves melt away that you don’t even realize that Angel is becoming closer and clearer in your vision. Your feet had started carrying you out onto the stage before you had given them permission to, it seems, and now the embroidered luna moths are wrapped around your body. The hot lights are shining brightly in your eyes, and you’re suddenly enveloped in a dense cloud of white noise that sounds like cheering and screaming.

You look behind you, and your band members have each taken their positions. They all give you a nod or a thumbs up, and now it’s up to you to kick off the tour’s opening night. When you turn your head toward the wings one last time, Joel is still standing where you left him, arms crossed in the darkness. He juts his chin upwards and mouths something to you, the shapes of his lips forming the phrase you can do this. You whisper the affirmative phrase back to him, the same way he had you do in your dressing room.

After you’ve introduced yourself into the mic using the steadiest voice you can muster, you shut your eyes, take a final stabilizing inhale, and then a metallic chord reverberates around the venue as you begin your set.

Instincts and muscle memory carry you most of the way through the first half of your songs. You can worry about building up your confidence and stage presence after you’ve come out the other side of this first night in one piece, you resolve. Right now, you’re just trying to work up the courage to unstick your eyes from the setlist taped to the floor in front of you. Those titles printed in bold black ink are the only familiar things you can see, and you wish someone else covered in black ink were standing in front of you for you to rest your gaze on. Someone to use his tattooed fingers and devilish grin to charm you like a snake, prevent you from curling up and hiding from him, from the tens of thousands of people who traveled and paid good money to see you. You can’t let them down, let him down. You won’t.

One of the songs toward the end of your set requires Angel to be the sole performer for the first few measures before your voice and your band come in behind her. The song starts with a repetitive, hypnotic strum pattern, one you’ve practiced hundreds of times by now. But, it’s easy to get lost in it, lose track of your place if you allow your mind to get distracted or your fingers to be on autopilot for too long.

That’s exactly what’s happened, you realize, when the first verse starts without its igniting lyric. You come in just in time to sing the second line, hoping your voice isn’t coming out too shaky as you try to cover up your mitsake. Your face feels hot, fingers struggling to grip your guitar pick as they become sweaty with embarrassment.

You start gettin’ nervous, you look at me, he had told you, what seems like hours ago now.

When you feel you’ve got a better handle on the song, you turn your head toward the wings to find him already looking at you. If he had noticed the slip-up, his face doesn’t let onto it, which helps to relax you. He wears a proud smile, and holds eye contact until you’re ready to let it go.

His reassuring presence allows you to finish strong, and the remainder of your set is over before you know it. When the drums and bass have faded behind you, and the remaining tones of your closing chord have dissipated into the air, you start to come back into your own body as the white noise filling your ears turns into voices. They’re cheering, whistling, screaming. You raise a hand above your brows, blocking the harsh spotlights so you can get a better look at the crowd, at the thousands of people you had been too scared to acknowledge the reality of earlier this evening. You break into a laugh, eyes becoming wet when you realize Joel was right, you could do it. You did do it. And the crowd fucking loves you.

Unable to contain your elation, you step back from your mic to do a little spin in place, strumming out some final nonsense chords with your nose all scrunched up as the skirt of your dress flutters around you. You take a bashful bow and wave to the crowd, your cheeks burning with the stretch of your smile. Stepping forward again, your voice echoes around the venue as you extend some final “thank you”s to your incredible audience, reminding them of your name one last time before skipping offstage, your band following close behind.

Although your vision is still recovering from the blinding lights, you don’t find Joel in your quick scan of the dark backstage area, and you figure he must be doing some last-minute warm ups or pre-show rituals with the rest of Death’s Head. You share a quick celebration with your bandmates, and then head your separate ways for the night, realizing when you go to change your clothes in your dressing room that you’ve still got Angel draped across your body. It’s going to take a few shows to get used to leaving her onstage for a roadie to pack up for you, you suppose. It’s difficult to remember that you’re not the only one taking care of yourself anymore. But if this was what the rest of your life was going to be like, what your years of hard work and trying and failing and rejection and acceptance had gotten you, you could certainly learn to get used to it.

For now, you detach yourself from Angel and lay her down gently on the couch in your dressing room, setting a mental reminder to find a stagehand later to surrender her to. You know it’s strange to feel such fondness toward an instrument, but she’s like a close friend to you now, a partner. “We did it,” you say to her quietly, smiling to yourself.

Your sentimental little moment is interrupted by another knock at the door.

“You in there, darlin’?” Joel calls from the other side of the wall.

“Oh, yeah! You can come in,” you permit, and he pushes the door open as you turn to him. “What’re you still doin’ back here?”

He scoffs and makes a face in mock disgust. “Damn, could act a lil’ happy to see me.”

“Sorry,” you giggle as he steps fully inside the room, shutting the door behind him. For a beat, you just stand facing each other in silence. You bounce on your heels and fiddle with the hem of your dress, waiting for him to say something.

“Fuckin’ incredible out there, babygirl. ‘Bout knocked me on my ass, I swear.” He steps closer to you, taking your face in both of his large hands. It makes your breath hitch, your eyes widening as they look into his. “Goddamn superstar, you are. They fuckin’ loved you.”

You break into a grin, swollen cheeks pushing into his calloused fingers. “Thank you… Took me a while to get it going, slipped up a little towards the end, but it was fun. Can’t believe I did it.”

“Well shit, I can. You should be proud of yourself, baby.”

“I am.”

“Good.” He studies your face for a moment, and for a split second, you think he might kiss you, and that you might want him to. You try to knock the thought from your head swiftly, and he drops his hands from your face as you do.

“So listen, came back here to ask you somethin’ actually. I know it’s pretty short notice and all, but the guys and I were wonderin’ if you’d wanna come back out and open our set with us.”

Your lips part in surprise, blinking quickly as you process his request. “Oh, um… That’d be really cool, but–”

“But what? C’mon, sweetheart, they loved you. They’ll go crazy for it.” He almost sounds like he’s getting impatient, the way he cuts you off.

You try to justify your hesitation, hoping he’ll understand. “We just didn’t rehearse it together, I don’t really know the chords–” He interrupts you again. “Don’t matter, we’re changin’ the opener, anyway. Gonna play Kiss it Better instead. Gotta know that one, right? Since you’re such a huge fan and all.”

He’s caught you, and he knows it. Of course you’re familiar with Death’s Head’s biggest hit. When you first fell in love with their music, it was one of the first songs you taught yourself to play. He had probably heard you absentmindedly plucking out the chorus during your soundcheck. You know you can’t lie to him now.

You take a moment to consider, then nod. “Okay, yeah. I’ll do it.”

The stern look on his face melts into one of smug satisfaction. “Good girl. Now c’mon.”

You lean over to grab Angel from the couch, but Joel stops you with a hand on your arm. “Won’t need her.”

You pause, turning your head to look at him with your brows furrowed. “I won’t?”

“Thought you just said you knew the song, baby. You forget how it starts?”

Oh.

He wants you to perform that part of the song with him. You wish you had remembered how the intro goes before agreeing to go back out there.

Shit.

Joel jerks his head toward the hallway with a “c’mon”, and you follow him out of your dressing room and back to the side of the stage. The rest of Death’s Head is already waiting, looking exasperated by Joel’s tardy appearance. Tommy gives you a double take, a brief look of confusion washing over his face before adjusting his expression to offer you a friendly smile instead. He and Joel exchange a few hushed words, and it doesn’t take much for you to gather that the guys weren’t in on this at all. This last minute switch up had all been Joel’s idea.

When the brothers are done speaking, Tommy nods in understanding, then passes the change in plans along to Eugene and Jesse. Joel must hear the erratic metallic scrape of your crucifix dragging across its silver chain as you fidget with it, and he turns his attention to the thousand yard stare you’re wearing.

He nudges one of your shoulders with his own to jostle you back to reality. “Where’d my confident girl go, hm?”

“Nowhere. Just… wasn’t really prepared to do this.”

“Just follow my lead, sweetheart. It’ll be good, promise.”

You nod, blinking rapidly, trying to focus on his face in the dark.

“You ready?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Joel grins down at you in satisfaction, then turns to face the band. “Whaddya say we get this show on the road then, boys?”

Tommy claps him on the back with a “Let’s do it, brother,” and then Joel is taking your hand in one of his big paws, leading you back out onto the stage you thought you’d already seen the last of.

An explosion of screams and cheers even louder than the one you’d received nearly knocks you over where you stand next to Joel, unsure of what to do with yourself while you await his instruction. He lets go of you briefly to pick up his guitar and situate the strap across his broad chest, then replaces his hand against the small of your back. It feels a little grounding, reassuring, and prevents you from being consumed by too many questions of what the fuck you’re doing out here. You’re pleasing him, that’s what. Not letting him down, right? Doing what he asks, because you’d do anything he asks, and he knows that.

He introduces himself and the band to the crowd, not that they need reminding of who they shelled out a couple hundred each to see tonight, and then you realize he’s talking about you.

“Remember her? Beautiful, ain’t she? Hell of a performer, too,” he speaks into his mic. You turn to smile at Joel while the sea of voices threatens to swallow you up, and the way he’s looking back at you is doing much the same. His expression is hungry, almost, and it reminds you of what it is you’re about to do.

He turns to face the crowd again. “Y’all seemed to like her so much, thought she could be my lil’ helper for our first song this evenin’. That alright with y’all?” Another ground-shaking response from the audience, and he leans closer into the mic to huff a laugh and say, “Thought so.”

Joel covers the head of the device with his hand, so that he’s only speaking to you now. “C’mere, sweetheart. Stand in front o’ me.” His other hand tightens against your lower back, moving you to where he wants you. “Want you to kneel for me now, baby.” He moves his hand up to your shoulder, applying downward pressure and helping you sink to the floor. Your eyes are doe-like and sparkling as you look up at him, heart pounding and breath quickening as you settle at his feet. The sound of your own blood rushing through your skull almost drowns out the fit of ecstasy erupting behind you, the band��s most loyal fans already knowing where this is going. And so do you.

Joel removes the mic from its stand, holding it to his lips and speaking a final “You know what I wanna hear, go ahead, now,” before lowering it to your mouth, his hand now level with the growing bulge in his jeans. The other one begins to strum a steady rhythm against steel strings, building up to the crescendo into the crash of the song’s first verse.

You hesitate, opening and closing your mouth once as you reach a wavering hand towards the microphone. Joel shakes his head in disapproval, and his lips form shapes that look like “hands to yourself”. He smirks down at you when you quickly snatch your hand away, pleased with your obedience. His silver brow piercing catches the light when he jerks his chin upward, the bright lights making his eyes appear to flash like a cat as he encourages you to speak.

“Please…” you squeak out, your voice providing the queue for Tommy’s thrumming bassline to come in.

Joel swings the mic back up to his mouth to speak into it once more, initiating this depraved little game of give and take. “Please, who?” he challenges, and then it’s your turn again.

You swallow, knowing what he wants to hear. “Please… Please Da– Daddy…” The title catches in your throat, this being the first time you’ve ever spoken it aloud the way you’ve always fantasized about. What a debauched sight you must be, pretty young thing on her knees for her teenage rock idol, calling him Daddy in front of thousands and thousands of strangers. If only your mother could see you now.

A kick drum comes to life somewhere behind Joel’s towering form. It vibrates your already sore knees, the feeling traveling to the apex of your thighs. “Tha’s it. Now please, what? Use your fuckin’ words, baby.” His demanding tone prompts a soft whimper to escape your lips, and you shift on your heels. His eyes flick down to where the hem of your dress just barely conceals your panties, licking his lips before focusing on your face again.

“Please kiss it better, Daddy,” you plead, and a warm, fluttery sensation begins to wash over you. Your eyelids feel a little heavier, your brain feels a little cloudy, and he knocks the underside of your chin with the mic once to bring you back to him.

“Hm, I dunno… Still think you can beg a lil’ prettier than that. Try one more time for Daddy...” He flashes his canines as he watches your hips rock back and forth, unsure if you even know how your body is reacting to him. He’s got you exactly where he wants you now, making a mess of yourself for him, shedding the skin of that shy little girl he first met not so long ago.

“Mmh, please, Daddy, need you to kiss it better, please…” Your voice sounds fucking wrecked, and you almost don’t recognize it as your own. It takes you a second or two to realize that Jesse’s guitar has joined in over top of the drums, and you know your little performance is over now.

Joel steals the mic from your panting mouth for a final time, slotting it back into its stand. With lips pressed against the device, he growls, “A’right, good girl, tha’s enough, baby,” and his shrieking guitar resounds all around you as your reward.

You stay kneeling for the remainder of the song, recovering from the whiplash of sinking into such a soft, unfamiliar headspace for the first time only to have nothing come of it. Attempting to recenter and distract yourself, you study Joel’s fingers up close as he plays, trying not to think too hard about those gothic letters adorning his knuckles. It’s no use, of course it is, and you shift around on your sore knees as the memory of that title leaving your lips, being commanded of you by him, replays itself like a skipping record. You’re a little ashamed at the feeling of how soaked your panties are, only being made worse when you chance a look up at Joel to find him already staring down at you, singing the suggestive lyrics of the song to you.

The final chords ring out a few minutes later, and then he’s reaching an inked hand down for you to take. You use it as leverage to push yourself back up to your feet on shaky legs, and you attempt to smooth out the bottom of your dress while Joel maneuvers you to face the crowd again.

“What a performance, huh? God damn,” he praises, making your cheeks burn as he drinks you in again. “‘S all I need from you for now, sweetheart, catch up with you later, yeah?”

You nod, doing an uncoordinated little curtsy toward the roaring crowd, cheering voices peppered with a few lewd-sounding whistles and hollers. “A’right, you run along, beautiful thing,” and he sends you offstage with a wink and what seemed like an unspoken promise for more, later.

–

Earlier in the day, you had been looking forward to watching the band from the wings after you were done performing, realizing how cool it was going to be that your first time seeing them live would be from somewhere even better than the front row. You can’t even bear the thought of that now.

You make a beeline from the stage to your dressing room, searching frantically for the lighter and pack of cigarettes in your bag. God damn, you need a fucking smoke right now, and some fresh air. It’s like striking gold when you find them buried underneath receipts and gum wrappers and makeup, guarding them with your life as you head out the venue’s back door.

You let it slam behind you as you press your exposed back up against the cold exterior wall, shaky fingers trying desperately to flick the lighter on and ignite the cigarette between your lips. Closing your eyes for a moment, you take a deep inhale of smoke, letting the cool night air wash over your heated skin. It’s impossible to escape him entirely, even all the way on the other side of the amphitheater, his muffled timbre still audible as the breeze carries it across the dark sky. You let your gaze rest on nothing in particular as you puff through your cigarette, trying to process what the hell just happened out there.

The problem isn’t so much what you did, it’s that you liked it, the evidence of which is still smeared along your aching cunt and between your thighs. The light wind flutters the skirt of your dress, and the sensation on the cooling moisture at your core sends a shiver up your spine, igniting goosebumps all along your exposed skin.

When your cigarette is almost burned down to a nub, you’re tempted to put it out on your arm, just to see if the burn might wake you up from whatever insane erotic dream you seem to be having.

‘S all I need from you for now, sweetheart, catch up with you later, yeah?

For now. Catch up with you later.

You’re sure he meant nothing by it, the “catching up” most likely referring to a conversation where he tells you not to look too far into what happened tonight, that it was just a performance, all a part of his act. You had played your part, it was a one time, spur-of-the-moment thing, and now you navigate the rest of the tour pretending it never happened.

You toss the smoldering butt of your smoke onto the pavement, stomping it out before heading back inside, the majority of your racing thoughts now slowed by a dense cloud of tobacco. You feel a little more stable than you did twenty or so minutes ago, letting your heavy boots lead you to the venue’s green room. You plant yourself on one of the large couches upholstered in tacky paisley fabric, preparing yourself for the awkward but professional talk you’re bound to have with Joel once the show is over.

Eyeing the bar cart in the corner of the room, you decide to get up and pour yourself a drink to pass the time. You don’t typically go for brown liquor, but it’s what’s in front of you, likely at the band’s request. Joel certainly strikes you as a whiskey kind of guy, at least. You hope he won’t mind if you help yourself to some of his share, pouring a finger into a short glass with ice and filling the rest with half a can of Coke from the ice bucket on the cart.

There’s a small, square television in the room, which you notice is playing a live feed of what’s happening on stage. You spot its accompanying remote on the lacquered coffee table in front of you, and grab it to turn the volume up as you begin to sip on your drink.

It’s not the most high-definition feed you’ve ever seen, and you can tell the television is a few years outdated. But it’s good enough for you to use to pass the rest of the time. You could woman-up and just watch from the side of the stage like you had planned on, but it’s nice to have this little room to yourself for now. The combination of watching Joel through the shabby screen and the sagging couch you’re practically sinking into reminds you of home, in a way, of the first time you’d ever seen his face aside from album covers and posters ripped from magazines. It’s still hard to believe you’ve met him now, performed with him, been on your knees for him. The memory makes you squirm uncomfortably, both from arousal and humiliation.

You allow your focus to be shifted to the small pile of Rolling Stone copies on the coffee table instead of your little performance, and flip through the pages while the crackling sound of the rest of Death’s Head’s set plays in the background. You’d always had a knack for finding ways to keep yourself distracted, and you’re thankful for that skill now.

After another hour or so, your attention is pulled back to the television when you hear the words “thank you” and “goodnight” in the mix of what Joel is shouting to the crowd, and you realize the show must be over now. A glance at the clock on the wall lets you know it’s almost eleven thirty, and a yawn takes over the muscles of your jaw on instinct. Between all you’ve been through tonight and what ended up being two Jack and Cokes, you’re looking forward to finally changing out of your clothes and tucking yourself into your tour bus bed. You hope it’s at least somewhat comfortable, having not had a chance to lie down on it yet.

But before you can succumb to the temptation of sleep, you have to catch up with Joel first. You’ve already gone over what he might say to you a dozen times in your head, prepared for any and all possibilities when he pulls you aside tonight to set the record straight between the two of you.

The stage is dark and empty now on the square little screen, the sound of screams and applause replaced by baritone laughter and heavy footfalls approaching the green room door. When Joel pushes inside with the other men in tow, you sit up a little straighter and offer him a friendly smile as he heads straight for the bar cart. You were right in your assumption of his alcohol preferences, watching as he pours himself a generous glass of the same whiskey now working its way through your bloodstream.

“You stealin’ some of my good liquor, darlin’?” he jokes, noticing that the cap on the bottle had already been unscrewed and spotting the glass on the table in front of you.

“Yeah, sorry, was hoping you wouldn’t mind.”

“Nah, ‘s fine by me. Want me to top off your glass?” He asks as Tommy relaxes into the other end of the couch you’re perched on. Jesse and Eugene sit down together in a creaking loveseat to your left, already engaged in a conversation of their own.

“I’ve already had two, I probably shouldn’t–” you protest.

Joel interrupts you, reaching a hand out and making a grabbing gesture towards your quarter-full drink. “We’re celebratin’, baby. C’mon, hand it over.”

You oblige, surrendering your glass, and it becomes more and more true with each interaction with Joel that he really doesn’t ever take ‘no’ for an answer. At first, you had thought Tommy’s warning was because Joel was just stubborn, which does seem to be the case. But he doesn’t have to argue much to get his way, he gets it just because his charm and demeanor warrant it. It’s like he cast a spell on you the moment you first met him, and now you can’t help but to say ‘yes’ to whatever he asks of you, even if it might be against your better judgment.

Joel hands your glass back to you, a little more Jack and a little less Coke than you would’ve poured for yourself, but you only have to sip on it long enough to get through the “catching up”. Maybe the extra helping will make the whole thing a little easier, anyway. Joel plants himself on the black leather chair across from the couch you’re sitting on, groaning as he spreads his legs and relaxes his forearms on top of the chair’s wide armrests. There’s a lamp that sits in the corner of the room, and the warm glow illuminates the back of his head of curls, still damp and sticking in odd directions from the sweat he worked up while performing. The slight golden halo almost makes him look like a king sat atop his throne.

He catches you staring, studying him, and his lips tug into a smirk. He chooses not to taunt you about it, instead turning his attention to Tommy to talk about the show. That’s what you assume they’re talking about, at least. You feel a little awkward, out of place among the group of men, and your eyelids are getting heavier with each passing minute despite their gruff voices and sharp bursts of laughter. You let yourself shrink into the couch's worn fabric, swirling your glass around and taking an occasional sip just to look like you’re doing something. You’re half tempted to reread one of the magazines you had already looked through.

Eventually, after each of the men have gotten a drink or two in them, Tommy is the first to rise from his seat. You had been playing with the lace hem of your dress, tracing the patterns with your finger, so engrossed in it you had almost forgotten you were sharing the couch with him.

“Well, you ready to head out, boys? Keep the party goin’ a lil’ bit longer?” he proposes. “You’re welcome to come too, sweetheart, if you wanna. Just not sure it’d be your kinda scene,” he adds, turning to you.

“Oh, it’s okay, I’ll probably just head to bed soon. Thank you for offering, though.”

Tommy smiles at you and nods in understanding. Jesse and Eugene accept his invitation, and then there’s only one member of Death’s Head whose plans you’re unsure of. “You comin’, brother?” Tommy asks him.

��Nah, I’ll stay here. Make sure our special guest gets to her bus alright ‘n all.”

“Good idea... Well, see y’all later, then. You were great tonight, darlin’, by the way,” Tommy compliments, and you smile politely as you thank him.

The three men leave the room, closing the door behind them, and now you’re alone with Joel again. It’s mostly silent, save for the squeak of the leather and light jingling of metal chains when he decides to get up from his chair, replacing Tommy in the empty spot beside you on the couch. He crosses one leg over the other, resting a calf atop the opposite thick thigh. You can feel his gaze on you as he stretches his arms across the back of the couch, not quite sitting close enough to you for his arm to reach across your shoulders. You fidget with your fingernails, avoiding acknowledging his presence until you have to. Please just get it over with.

“Said it once, said it a million times, but you really were amazin’ out there tonight. Appreciate you bein’ so willin’ to do that for me last minute.”

“Oh, um… yeah. I mean, the crowd seemed to like it, so–”

“And how’d you like it?”

His question takes you by surprise, and it finally makes you turn your head to look at him. Why does it matter if you liked it or not? You’re sure nothing like it will ever happen again as far as you’re concerned, as far as you’re sure he’s concerned.

“How’d I like what…?” You question, just to make sure he’s asking you what it seems like he is.

“You know exactly what I’m talkin’ about, sweetheart,” he speaks lowly, those carnivorous eyes of his scanning over your body, coming to rest on where white lace just barely conceals the tops of your thighs.

“Oh… I, um… I liked it, I guess,” you admit sheepishly.

“‘S okay if you did, I could tell.”

And there he goes again, always being fucking right about you. You should know by now that there’s no use in trying to skirt around the truth with him.

You continue to try, anyway. “I just haven’t really done something like that before, wasn’t sure if I was doing a good job.”

“Did a perfect job, babygirl. Looked so pretty on your knees for me, sounded so sweet when you were beggin’ for Daddy.”

Oh.

You aren’t sure what you were expecting him to say next, but it certainly wasn’t that. The room starts to spin a little, either from the alcohol still floating through your veins or from the sharp turn your catching up has taken, you can’t say for certain. Joel huffs lightly through his nose, and you think he must have noticed your breath catch in your throat and the shift of your hips in response to his filthy compliment, punctuated by the title he used so casually.

“C’mere, sweet thing. Sittin’ so far away, you scared o’ me or somethin’?” He teases.

“N-no…”

“Didn’t think so. Now don’t make me ask again, sweetheart.” He pats the empty cushion beside him as he speaks, brows raised at you expectantly.

You obey, of course you do, and your heart hammers against your ribcage as you slide closer to his side of the couch. Your eyelids start to flutter against their own volition, and that candy-sweet, far away feeling from earlier on stage begins to make its second appearance of the night.

“Good girl… So beautiful, baby, you know that?” he praises softly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear before lightly rubbing his thumb across your pouty bottom lip. He presses it downward against the pillowy skin, and pushes the digit inside with ease when your mouth parts for him so eagerly. You close your lips around him and swirl your tongue along the calloused skin a few times, and he looks like he wants to eat you alive as he watches you fall apart for him so easily.

Joel pulls his thumb from your mouth, dragging it down your spit-slick lip so that it bounces back into place when his finger leaves your skin. He wears a satisfied grin at the way he has you completely at his mercy now, looking up at him with your glazed-over doll eyes. They scan back and forth between his glowing amber ones, awaiting your next direction.

“Gave you a compliment. What do you say, babygirl, hm?”

“Thank you, Da– unh…” The word starts to come out before you can catch it in time, shove it back into his cage. Your face runs hot immediately at your slip-up.

“‘S okay, sweetheart. You can call me that, if you wanna, say it real pretty for me. Don’t got it tattooed on me for nothin’,” Joel soothes, still-wet thumb rubbing across your cheekbone in placating strokes. “C’mon, finish your sentence, baby.”

“Th– thank you, Daddy,” you repeat, so lost in this saccharine headspace he’s coaxed out of you that you can’t even feel ashamed anymore.

“There we go, good girl… Y’know why I got that special word tattooed on me, hm?” He asks, already knowing you’re too far gone to come up with an answer. But it’s fun to watch those little gears behind your eyes struggle to turn. If you did ever know the reason, it’s long gone now. You shake your head, humming an mm-mm.

“Figured if it was part of the song that made me famous, might as well own it. Don’t you think, sweet girl? Think it belongs to me, that it should always be there to remind you who I am?”

You manage a weak sounding noise and nod in response, cheek brushing up and down against the skin of his palm.

“And who am I, sweetheart? Wanna hear you say it again…”

“D-Daddy…”

He smirks, enjoying how quickly he’s been able to reduce you into nothing more than a wet, pliant puddle of a girl. “Yeah, tha’s right… c’mere, baby. Lemme feel you.” He uncrosses his legs, returning them to their trademark spread so that he can pull you into his lap and situate you into straddling his hips. The position makes your dress ride up so far that your panties are exposed to him now, soaked-through gusset and all. His fingers make to tease the wet spot there, but change course to pay attention to something else first instead. Something scrawled in uneven black linework, peeking out from underneath your dress’ hemline. He pushes the fabric further up your bare thigh to fully unveil the shoddy little illustration, tracing around it with a roughened finger.

“Wha’s this, sweetheart, hm? This for me?” He prompts, hooking a knuckle of the opposite hand into the little dip in your chin, guiding your head downward to look at his discovery. A death’s-head hawkmoth, bearing a striking resemblance to the band’s logo, with its scribbled wings made of bleeding ink spread out across your skin.

You hum in confirmation, not trusting your own voice anymore. He squeezes at the plush skin of your upper thigh, massaging around the tattoo. A faint growl rumbles from deep in his chest. “Tha’s cute, babygirl. ‘S real cute.”

“Th-thank you,” you return, politely accepting his compliment the way he likes you to.

His large hand migrates from the moth to your dampened core, nudging at your clothed clit with a tattooed knuckle. “All this for me too?”

You’re so sensitive there, his touch sending a shock through your nervous system that makes your hips rock into his hand. You nod, your affirming noise sounding more like a whimper. He pinches the swollen nub between two knuckles, and you let out a pained little yelp. “Yeah?” he taunts.

“Yeah, yes, Daddy,” you squeak out, so fucking gone for him already as his other hand guides your hips to move along his covered crotch. Even through his tight jeans, you can feel how hard he is, his cock straining against the thick material.

“Fuck, need to feel this lil’ pussy, baby. You gonna let me?”

“Uh huh, please,” you whine, ready for him to see you, touch you however he wants right here on the worn-down couch cushions. You’ve never felt anything quite like the hazy little cloud he’s got you floating in, shyness and inhibitions suddenly gone, replaced with unabashed submission.

Joel glances at the watch on his wrist, then over your shoulder to the door you’ve got your back to as you continue to unconsciously roll your hips in his lap.

“Reckon someone’ll be back here pretty soon to clean up for the night, don’t want no one walkin’ in on what I’m about to do to you, do we?” You barely register what he’s saying, making some unintelligible sound in response as you fight to keep your eyes open. “Well, maybe you do… Had you whimperin’ and whinin’ for me in front of all those people pretty quick, didn’t I? Hardly even put up a fight, just wanna be good for me so bad, don’t you sweetheart?”

“Yes, Daddy, wanna be good.” Another wave of wetness seeps from your aching core, staining your panties a shade darker and making the fabric adhere to the shape of your swollen pussy.

“Yeah, fuck, know you do. Hang onto me babygirl, gonna take this somewhere else, let you prove it to me.” He stands up as he speaks, and you wrap your limbs around him as he carries you out the back door of the venue and onto the Death’s Head tour bus.

When he steps onto it with you clutched tightly against him, you can see the bus is spacious enough to have a bedroom in the back, which of course gets to belong to Joel for the next several weeks as opposed to a cramped bunk. You’re not sure there’s ever been a time in his life when he hasn’t gotten exactly what he wants, what he deserves, it seems, and tonight is no exception.

He tosses you onto the bed, and you don’t even have time to unlace your boots before he’s gripping your ankles and yanking you down toward the edge of the mattress. The movement hikes up your dress all the way up to your tummy, and you attempt to pull it back over yourself before his hands are replacing yours on the hem. “Nuh uh, way past that, sweetheart. Off,” he orders, and helps you sit up enough to shimmy it over your head and discard it onto the floor. “Get these off too.” His fingers hook into the waistband of your underwear, and you lift your hips to help him rid you of the ruined fabric. “Now lay down, baby, spread ‘em. Lemme see her.”

You pull your knees in towards you, and Joel places two rough hands on your inner thighs, pushing them apart to slowly reveal your glistening cunt to him as he crouches down to face her. “Oh, she’s pretty, ain’t she?” He marvels, collecting the slick pooling at your entrance with a calloused thumb and using it to circle your sensitive clit. All you can do is whine and let him play with you, so entirely blissed out that you can’t be sure if any of this is real. “Knew you’d have such a pretty lil’ cunt like this.” The sensation of his warm breath ghosting against your sensitive bud combined with his touch and his praise makes you squirm, shifting your hips into his hand and silently begging for more. He uses his thumb to tease your dripping entrance a few times, and laughs when it makes you whine a little louder, a little more pathetic-sounding, before abandoning it to pay attention to your clit again.

“What’re you makin’ all those pretty sounds for, sweetheart, hm? She feelin’ empty, ‘s that it?” He goads, fingers leaving your core entirely as he stands up to finally free his cock from his jeans, hard and angry and leaking. He taps the head against your hole, enjoying the sight of it constricting around nothing. “This what you want, baby? Need me to fuck you full?”

“Unh, uh huh,” you cry, still desperately bucking toward what he’s so close to giving you.

“Might be a lil’ selfish of me, but I think I wanna hear you beg for it again. Just sounded so sweet tonight, can’t help if I wanna hear it some more... Look at me,” he barks, and you hadn’t realized your eyes were closed until he demanded you to open them. He towers over you, sliding a thick hand up and down his shaft, the wet sound of it making you salivate. “You want this cock?”

“Yeah, yes, Daddy, please…”

“Please, what?”

“P-please gimme your c-cock, Daddy, please… Please f-fuck me.” It almost sounds like you’re crying, the way you’re hiccuping and sobbing through your words, one slurring into the next as you beg him.

“So fuckin’ eager, Christ. Such a good girl for me,” he praises, moving to line himself up with where you’re aching for him the most. You’re probably dripping onto his nice sheets, so soaked that he’ll barely have to put in any effort to fully slip inside you. “I’ll give it to ya, babygirl, fuck. So goddamn desperate.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him before he spears into you, and you let out an involuntary little mewl at how big his cock is. You only have the one experience to go off of for comparison, but Joel is fucking huge. He’s thick and long, with a blushing mushroom tip and a prominent vein running down the length of him. Your reaction to him makes him refocus on your face, noticing how wide your eyes are as you take him in.

“Can’t promise I’m gonna be gentle, don’t got it in me. Say somethin’ if you can’t handle it, I’ll put your pretty mouth to use instead, ‘kay?”

“O-okay,” you promise, continuing to watch as he begins to push inside with a groan, just the tip at first, until he quickly loses his patience and sheaths the rest of himself inside you.

“Tight lil’ cunt, suckin’ me in already, sweetheart. So fuckin’ good…” He releases a strained breath once he bottoms out, and you swear that swollen tip of his is kissing your fucking cervix. You feel so full, letting out a debauched sound as you adjust to the burn and stretch of him. He lets himself sit inside you for just a second before he slides out almost completely, growling again when he pushes back inside.

“Oh fuck, look at that,” he muses, trailing a hand from your entrance to the expanse of skin just under your belly button. His touch tickles, making you shiver, and you direct your attention from where the two of you meet to whatever it is he’s suddenly become fascinated with. “So big inside you, huh? Tummy’s tryin’ to push me out, can’t hardly take it, Christ… You’re gonna, though, huh sweet girl? Gonna take it for me?”

“Y-yes, Daddy…” you cry.

“Yeah, y’ are, good girl,” Joel says through gritted teeth, and you let your back fall flat against the bed once more as he quickens his pace, rough hands gripped onto the underside of your thighs as he pistons in and out of you. Each slap, slap, slap of skin on skin is accompanied by obscene wet squelching, the sounds becoming more distant in your ears as you let yourself drift away into some dreamy, filthy space. God, you almost wish that stupid bartender you unfortunately gave your virginity to were here to take notes on how to actually fuck a girl. Joel’s got a dirty mouth, and he knows exactly how to use it to push and pull you, mold you into exactly what he wants you to be, at least for tonight. And you’re more than willing to give in.

You’re not sure how much time has passed before you feel a thumb and fingers squeezing either side of your face, forcing your lips into a pout as he jostles your head to bring you back to reality. When your fluttering eyes finally focus on Joel’s face hovering over yours, you can see that his lips are moving, teeth bared as he speaks. He’s looking at you expectantly, his pierced brow twitching into an arch, and you assume he must have asked you a question.

“Hm?” You mumble, and he gives your jaw another little shake.

“Asked you if it feels good, sweetheart. Tell me it feels fuckin’ good, need to hear it, babygirl. C’mon,” he spits through gritted teeth, that rockstar ego of his taking over in its need to be aroused. He punctuates his request with a particularly sharp thrust, one that makes you yelp.

“F-feels… feels good, Daddy. Feel so… so– unh,” you cry out, unable to finish your string of nonsense reassurance, the jumbled mess of sounds only spurring him on to fuck into you even harder. He returns his thumb to your clit, using your slick to rub quick circles around it. It’s all too much, too fast, too hard, too big, but it’s just the right amount of overstimulation to launch you to the edge of your orgasm. You can feel yourself constrict around him, abdominal muscles contracting as you shut your eyes so tight you start seeing stars.

“Oh fuck, gonna come for me, baby? Gonna soak my fuckin’ cock, huh? C’mon, pretty girl, come for me, can feel you chokin’ me.” All it takes is a few more rubs around your aching clit, a few more of his filthy words, few more stuttering pulses of his cock inside your walls so deep and powerful you know you’ll be sore tomorrow, and then you’re howling, spasming on the sheets as he groans above you. Fireworks are exploding on the backs of your eyelids, so vivid you swear you can really hear them. The imaginary booms muffle Joel’s voice as he floods you with his come only a moment later, grumbling good girl, such a good fuckin’ girl, so god damn perfect.

Falling forward to brace his hands on either side of your head, he stays inside you for a couple of minutes, still rock hard as his cock finishes out its last few shudders. He pulls out all too soon, and you let out an involuntary little whine as soon as he does, your subconscious’ way of protesting the loss.

“I know, babygirl, I know. She misses me already, don’t she?” he placates, thumbing some of his spend still dripping from your fucked out hole and smearing it around your pussy. Not to provide any more pleasure, just to play with you, enjoying the sight of what he did to you. “Did so well for me, sweetheart.”

As you half-whisper a “thank you, Daddy,” you hear what sounds like the bus door open and close, followed by boisterous laughter and clumsy footsteps getting louder and closer. You’re quickly snapped back to the reality of your situation, and panic begins to set in when you fully realize where you are and what you’ve just done, and with who. You’d been so lost in arousal and pleasure you’d lost track of how much time had passed. Joel hears them too, and notices the fear in your expression as he sucks his finger clean from your shared release.

“Oh, shit... It’s fine, sweetheart, it’s okay. Listen to me.” You lock your eyes onto his, your brows knit together in worry as you push yourself up to a more alert sitting position. “Just stay put, alright? You can… just sleep here tonight, I guess. Not gonna sneak you out like a fuckin’ teenager.”

“Okay,” you reply, wrapping your arms around your body as you start to shiver. For some reason, you feel the need to apologize.

He looks around the room, quickly shoving himself back into his jeans and running his hands through his damp hair. He reaches into a still half-packed suitcase and tosses you one of his t-shirts, black with a fading whiskey brand logo printed across the chest. “Here, uh… put this on. I’ll bring you somethin’ to clean up with, just try to relax.”

You make quick work of slipping it over your head, enjoying the comforting feeling of the soft cotton on your skin, providing some warmth on your chilled skin as its thin layer of perspiration begins to dry.

Joel slips out of the bedroom in the second that the dark fabric covers your eyes, closing the door behind him. You can hear the men’s voices erupt at the sight of him, greetings coated in their slowly dissipating inebriation. Thankfully, it doesn’t sound like they’re asking him any questions, mostly just laughing at themselves as they talk over each other, struggling to recount some apparently hilarious story from earlier in the evening. From the sounds of it, you just had to be there, you guess. Tommy says something to Joel of a similar effect, and then the commotion seems to quiet down as they each collapse onto their bunks.

The bedroom door opens again a minute later, and you lean back where you sit in an attempt to duck out of the sight of the other band members.

He lets out a light chuckle at your stealthy movement. “They ain’t gonna see ya, darlin’. Wouldn’t remember it tomorrow even if they did. Here, brought you these–” He sets a glass of water down onto a nightstand with one hand, the other occupied with a damp washcloth. You extend your arm to take it from him, and he tuts. “I don’t think so, sweetheart. Lemme do it. Lay down again, like I had ya before.”

You obey him wordlessly, resuming the same position he had just fucked you in a few minutes prior. His touch is much softer, gentler this time, as he uses the warm cloth to pet at your still-sensitive pussy, cleaning her of your shared fluids. It’s such a striking difference, the two sides of him you’ve seen tonight, and you’re surprised when he completes the task without so much as a suggestive praise or filthy remark. It makes you start to think that he might actually care about you, that maybe he could see you as something more than a plaything, something fun to tease. But he makes it so goddamn difficult to tell for sure.

“There we are, she’s all cleaned up.” He discards the cloth into a pile of laundry, then bends down to retrieve something else from his suitcase. “Why don’t you cover up with these tonight, too. Since the pair you came in here with is a lil’... outta commission, for the time bein’.”

You gather that he’s referring to your panties, how they wouldn’t be very comfortable to put back on again, what with how they’re still soaked through with your arousal. He seems to smile at the notion of that being his doing.

“Lift up,” he commands softly, and you raise your feet off the bed, still laid flat on your back with your knees bent. He slides a clean pair of his briefs up your legs, situating them around your waist, before applying light pressure to the tops of your feet to help you lower them once more.

“Alright… Just, uh, make yourself comfortable, then,” he says, laughing quietly when a yawn overtakes your face before he can even finish his sentence. “Think I’m gonna rinse off quick, so… ‘night, I guess.”

“Okay, yeah. ‘Night, Joel,” you reply, and he offers a quick nod as he slips out the bedroom door again. You infer that he’s expecting you to fall asleep before he comes back, which is fine, you suppose. You’re not sure you could force yourself to stay awake much longer to wait for him, anyway. Reaching over to the glass on the nightstand to take a few sips of the water he brought you, you let your mind wander to what he could be thinking right now, what any part of tonight could mean. He cleaned you up, he’s letting you sleep over, he didn’t sell you out to his bandmates. That means he cares about you, right? He didn’t kiss you, but everything happened so fast, and you could’ve been the one to kiss him if you had enough wherewithal to do so. Maybe he’s just not much of a romantic guy. But he cares about you, you’re sure of it now.

You pull back the sheets and curl yourself into a ball underneath them, then extend a hand up to turn off the bedside lamp. Now shrouded in darkness, the muffled sound of the bus shower running nearby prompts your heavy eyelids to pull further and further over your eyes. It only takes a few minutes for you to finally succumb to the temptation of sleep, feeling sore but satisfied, hoping that tonight will be the first of many spent like this with him.

–

You wake up several hours later to an empty bed, having been so exhausted last night that you don’t have any recollection of if Joel had ever joined you there in the first place. You don’t even remember hearing the shower turn off, or feeling his big, warm body slide into bed beside you, or even noticing the bus lurch into motion at some point to transport you to the next city. You wonder if he had pulled you close to him, let you nuzzle into his chest, if he had scratched the top of your head to soothe you after you had made some little noise in your sleep. You think at least one of those things might have happened, you’re just not sure which one. You smile to yourself at the dreamy memory.

Sitting up, you rub the sleep from your eyes, then reach out a hand to feel where the sheets are mussed on his side of the bed. The fitted sheet feels cool, indicating that he must have gotten up a while ago, but let you sleep as long as you wanted. The digital clock on the nightstand reads a little past 10 AM.

You peel back the comforter, swinging your legs around and letting your bare toes touch down on the carpet. You carefully pad your way to the bedroom door, staying quiet in case any of the other band members are out there. Cracking the door open ever so slightly, you check if the coast is clear. The men’s bunks look empty, but you can see the boots of someone sitting on a couch near the front of the bus. The silver tips make them unmistakably Joel’s.

When you make your way over to him, it almost looks like he’s just been sitting there waiting for you to finally wake up, the way he’s hunched forward over last month’s issue of a guitar magazine. He’s fully dressed, and you feel a little embarrassed to still be wearing his shirt and briefs.

He flicks his eyes up to you quickly before returning them to his reading, and greets you with a curt “Mornin’”. Not spoken playfully, not punctuated with one of his charming little names for you or a scan of his eyes over your bare legs, just “mornin’”. You repeat the word back to him, taking a seat on the couch opposite him. You’re not really sure what else to say or do, the air feeling tense and thick for a reason he hasn’t let on to yet. You decide to be brave and break the silence first, but he cuts you off, closing his magazine and tossing it onto the coffee table between you.

“Listen, last night was a mistake, alright? I shouldn’t’ve let myself get carried away like that, should’a shown you some more respect, treated you like a professional. That’s what this is gonna be from now on, okay? Professional. Tell me you understand that.”

Your heart plummets into your stomach at his words, and you try not to let your face reflect the cocktail of confusion and disappointment and hurt you feel. You take a deep inhale and nod your head. “I understand.”

He looks like he wants to say more, something with some actual emotion behind it, maybe, but he pushes it down. “Already dropped your clothes from last night back onto your bus. Best go on before the boys get back, get yourself somethin’ to eat before soundcheck this afternoon.”

“Okay,” you reply quietly, eyes glued to the floor so he doesn’t see the whites of your eyes turn pink and the shine begin to well up in them. “Um, see you later, then, I guess.”

“Yeah,” is all Joel says back to you, but you hardly hear it as you swiftly exit the Death’s Head bus and slam the door behind you. You don’t have far to go, you and your band’s bus being parked right behind theirs, but it feels like the longest, most shameful sprint of your life. You allow your tears to fall once you’re safely cocooned inside your own bunk bed, thankful to be alone. You figure your band must be out for a late breakfast or exploring the city together, and you’re grateful that even if they did notice you missing last night, they probably won’t ask any questions about it.

You feel so fucking stupid, like such a naive little girl, for ever entertaining any of your childish hopes that some playful flirting and a one night stand might ever turn into something real. He’s made it very clear to you now that you’re nothing more than a little mouse for him to bat around, toying with your emotions and your cunt any way he pleases, just because he can. Because you’re so inexperienced, such an easy target, too good and too eager and too willing. And he knows you’ll do exactly as he asks now, keep it professional, because it’s what he commanded of you. And you want to please him, don’t you? Despite the hurt you feel now, you still can’t make yourself disobey him.

You feel drained all over again once your tears finally run dry, but decide you can’t let yourself wallow on your own shattered girlish dreams all afternoon. You turn over and pull the curtain back on your bunk to check the clock on the wall, and realize you have a good handful of hours until you have to be anywhere. You’ve done more with less, you think to yourself, springing out of bed to pull on some of your own clothes. You rush to locate a pen and a notepad, and retrieve Angel from the storage underneath the bus.

With all necessary items in your possession, you sit yourself down on your own bus’s couch, and let your tangled mess of feelings transform themselves into chords and lyrics. You’ve always used your music as an outlet to cope with what you’re dealing with, why should now be any different? He wants a goddamn professional, you’re going to show him one, and if he can spring a surprise on you as big as moaning for Daddy on stage in front of tens of thousands of people, you can certainly perform a brand new song just for him, tonight.

tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75

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#my writing #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #rockstar!joel #tk&ts

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little-diable · 9 months

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I wish I didn’t, but I do - Aaron Hotchner (smut)

Listen, I’m currently on a run with writing pwp, but I ain’t sorry for it. Y’all just have to endure it. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves.xxx

Summary: The reader and Aaron have to share a bed as they hunt yet another unsub, but Aaron growing jealous of an officer flirting with the reader just makes things even worse; pwp

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral, choking, dom!Aaron, degrading, jealousy, one bed trope, colleagues to lovers, age gap (without any age specified)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader (2.3k words)

“You okay?” Her voice was quiet, dripping with tiredness as she sipped on her coffee, eyes set on Aaron. He was wearing his all too familiar frown, only nodding his head, rereading through their new files for what appeared to be the hundredth time. (Y/n) kept looking at him for a few more moments before she turned away from him with a sigh, gaze finding the blurring by clouds.

Yet another case was calling them away from home, flying across the country to follow the few details they had so far, hoping to find their unsub. It was a cruel case, a bloody case, a case that would keep them all up for nights on end, and yet neither of them even dared to think about sitting this one out. Like lost pilgrims making their way through unfamiliar territories, focused on their final destination.

Tiredness swapped through (y/n)‘s system, forcing her eyes to flutter close. It took her a few seconds to grow calm, letting a yawn claw through her. Within another second she felt Aaron move next to her, shuffling closer to allow (y/n) to rest her head on his shoulder. Even though her tiredness guided her, her mind didn’t stop racing, hyperfocusing on the man sitting next to her.

It had been years since (y/n) had joined the team, following them through the country to chase unsubs. And even though she had stumbled into this circle of colleagues, forming their own family, she still hasn't adapted to being around Aaron Hotchner. He was everything she wasn’t, perhaps that’s what kept her curious, but deep down (y/n) was all too aware of what kept her mind chained to the thought of Aaron. Details that forced her mind to work all through the nights where she desperately needed to catch up on much needed hours of sleep.

……

“Who’ll room with who?” (Y/n) barely paid Aaron’s words any of her attention, eyes focused on her phone. Since she had used the past hours to sleep, she was now reading through their files, trying to remember all the little details they needed to keep on building the profile.

“(Y/n)?” This time Aaron managed to grasp her attention, wide eyes flickering up from the screen of her phone. “You’re with me.”

It took her a second to jump into action, choking on the surprised breath of air leaving her. Her body followed Aaron through the small hotel, into the room they’d share for the upcoming days. Neither of them said a word as they took in the double bed, well neither of them said a word to the other that is.

Wrapped in a blanket of silence the both of them unpacked their bags, cherishing the calmness this room offered till the moment where they’d leave to drive towards the police station. Her fingers tingled, just like the rest of her body, desperately wanting to reach out to Aaron, wanting to feel his hands pressed against her skin - mere dreams that could probably get her fired if she’d ever speak them out loud.

She felt his eyes on her, following (y/n) around like a gun trying to focus on a target, preparing to pull the trigger. Would he speak up? Would he ask her for her opinion on something? But Aaron kept quiet, unlike her spiraling thoughts, focusing on the scent of his ever present cologne clinging to her like a memory of a day she wouldn’t ever want to forget.

As if she could ever forget about Aaron Hotchner.

……

“What was that?” Aaron’s voice boomed through the black SUV, words shaking through (y/n)‘s tense body. She was heavily breathing, just like he was, riled up by the sudden wave of anger leaving him to try and drown her.

“What was what, Aaron?” His eyes momentarily flickered from the road ahead to meet hers. Perhaps he hadn’t expected (y/n) to match the angry tone of his voice. Perhaps he had thought that she’d instantly understand what he was hinting at. But she wasn’t, not understanding what he wanted from her at all.

“Flirting while we’re on the clock? Do you realise how unprofessional you made yourself appear?” A humourless laugh left (y/n), eyes zoning in on his handsome features. Every movement, every microexpression of his told her everything she needed to know. No matter how long Aaron has been in their business, he still didn’t manage to hide the jealousy thumping through his veins, unable to think straight.

“Are you kidding me right now? Please tell me you’re fucking kidding me right now, Aaron.” With his foot finding the break all too quickly the SUV screeched to a halt. Both were heavily breathing, eyes connected for a few more seconds till he undid his seatbelt, stepping out of the car. She followed him into the hotel, teeth buried in her lower lip to try and keep quiet, at least till they’d find some kind of shelter in their shared room.

“I didn’t expect this kind of behaviour from you; not from you (y/n). Do you think this is some kind of joke? Do you think we have enough time on our hands to just-“ no further word managed to leave the tall man, forced to shut up by (y/n)’s lips finding his. She was seething, every inch of her body burned in anger, but the desperate need to prove to Aaron that she had no interest in the officer who had been a tad bit too friendly with her kept her moving.

Aaron instantly replied to the kiss, hands finding her sides as her fingers worked on shuffling his suit jacket down his muscular arms. Their hearts were racing, lungs burning due to the lack of air filling them, lips already somewhat swollen.

“As a profiler you should have noticed my feelings for you by now, Aaron. I didn’t speak more than three words with the officer, I promise.” The confession was whispered against his lips, not daring to part, anxiously waiting for his reply. Aaron’s fingers found her chin, forcing (y/n) to look at him once again. No longer was his expression filled with anger and hatred, growing softer with every passing second.

“Well, it seems like we both don’t know how to do our job. I was jealous of him, I didn’t like the way he looked at you. But you still need to be punished, you need to learn your lesson, sweetheart.” With a gasp rippling through her, (y/n) was pushed onto the mattress, staring up at Aaron with wide eyes. She was forced to watch the man undo the buttons of his sleeves, rolling the fabric of his black dress shirt up to his elbows. “Take off your clothes for me.”

(Y/n) instantly snapped into motion, not breaking eye contact once. One by one her clothing pieces fell to the ground, exposing her goosebump covered body to his hungry eyes. Aaron settled between her thighs, eyes breaking contact with hers to look at her cunt, groaning at the sight of her arousal glistening on her skin.

“You’re soaked, baby. What a pathetic slut you are, I haven’t even touched you yet, but you’re already dripping. Tell me, do you enjoy seeing me angry?” A gasp left (y/n) as Aaron brushed his fingers through her slit, spreading her arousal on her pulsing bundle of nerves, slowly moving in circular motion. “Speak up when you’re told to.”

“Fuck, yes I do.” She hated how her voice trembled, making her appear even more desperate, but (y/n) didn’t find the time to spend her trembling voice any of her attention, head thrown back as Aaron’s mouth found her heat, rough tongue brushing over her folds. No words were spoken as he wrapped one arm around her quivering thigh, fingers teasing her entrance.

He was eating her out like a starving man, needing the taste of her to survive like air flushing through his lungs, the elixir of life humankind has been searching for ever since the start of their timeline.

“What do you think, can you take another?” Aaron’s glistening eyes met her dilated pupils, lust blown, almost fully black. She needed a moment to understand what he was talking about, choking on her moan as Aaron curled his fingers against her swollen spot. “Of course you can, a whore like you likes to be stretched, don’t you?”

(Y/n) couldn’t reply, no longer able to produce any sounds but her moans. She was trembling, shaking, unable to keep her sounds bottled in. Aaron fucked her fast with his fingers, adding yet another as he sucked on her clit, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. He didn’t give her any time to be embarrassed about how quickly her orgasm was approaching, not wanting to hold it back since she had been dreaming about this happening ever since she had met him.

“Aaron, I - oh god,” her breaths grew shallow, hands grasping the blanket she was laying on, trying to claw her fingernails into the fabric as if she was scared that something could try to pull her away from this very moment. He added more speed to the movements of his fingers, tongue brushing against her clit over and over again, till she came with a moan of his name.

(Y/n)’s orgasm rocked through her, sputtering through her veins like a bullet piercing through different layers of wood. One by one. She kept falling, not able to control her body as the intense feeling kept holding her hostage. Aaron looked at her with awe laced in his gaze, smirking against her folds as he slowly rose to his feet.

His cock left a prominent bulge, pressing against the fabric of his dark trousers, begging to be freed. Slowly Aaron pulled his clothes off his body, taking his time, teasingly, building up the tension once again.

(Y/n) was still panting, and yet she couldn’t wait to feel him buried inside of her, fucking her into the mattress like a man on a mission. And on a mission Aaron Hotchner certainly was. He turned from her to fish a condom out of his wallet, connecting their eyes once again as he moved closer, rolling it down his twitching cock before positioning himself against her entrance.

“You can still tell me to stop, I won’t be mad, promise.” His whispers left her smiling, making (y/n) shake her head as she wrapped her arm around his neck, pulling Aaron in for a kiss. Her moans clawed through her, dampened by his kiss as he pushed into her.

Both needed a few seconds to adjust, walls fluttering around him, before Aaron began to build a slow rhythm. Their moans echoed through the room, followed by the sounds of their bodies meeting every few seconds. Both knew that what they were doing was awfully wrong, going against every law they were supposed to follow, and yet neither of them could care about their hierarchy at this very moment, trusting one another fully.

“You’re so fucking tight, fuck, I’ve been waiting to bury myself inside your cunt for years, such a slut for other men and yet you kept away from me for so long. I wish I didn’t love you like this, but I do, fuck.” An almost desperate whine left (y/n), trying to swallow down another moan as her mind began to realize what Aaron just confessed. It took her another deep breath before she could speak up, eyes struggling to stay open.

“I love you too, so much, Aaron.” Another kiss was shared, his thrusts grew rougher, faster, set on properly claiming her. Sobs left (y/n), desperate sounds that only spurred him on to push her towards the edge once again.

Their bodies were intertwined, just like their souls, forming a strong bond that would only grow within time, outliving any fights, any struggles they’d eventually face. Made to love, made to fight, made to grow old together.

„I wanted to kiss you at the station, wanted to claim you as mine right there, in front of his eyes.“ Her walls clenched around his cock, drawing a sharp breath from Aaron. His hand found her throat, pinning her down as he buried himself even deeper inside her tightness. “You would have liked that, am I right, sweetheart?”

“Mhm, yes, I’m yours, only yours.” She was about to let go, struggling to keep on breathing as Aaron tightened his grip on her throat. Her eyes were forced open, staring into his dark pupils, reminding her of the gate of darkness she’d eventually have to cross, finding comfort in the thick blanket he wrapped around her. Once again she called his name, letting go as he fucked her through her high.

A string of curses left Aaron, forcing him to follow her moments later, releasing himself into the condom. Both were panting, chests heavily rising and falling, sharing a kiss or two before he slowly parted from her.

No words were spoken as Aaron took care of her, carefully cleaning her, taking his time with (y/n). Moments later he found himself lying next to her, smiling down on her. Once again her tiredness stuck to her features, forcing a yaw out of her as she kissed his naked chest.

It’ll take them a while to adjust to their new relationship, keeping it a secret for as long as possible, remembering every moment on the nights they’ll share. But no matter what, the two will stick together, clinging to one another for nights and years to come.

#Aaron Hotchner smut #Aaron Hotch imagine #Aaron Hotchner x Reader #criminal minds imagine

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 11 months

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#1 - Scenario » Dark!Peter Parker

Pairing: Dark Peter Parker x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

WARNINGS: Kidnapping; NONCON.

AN: Just an idea I had.

Please, reblog and give me feedback.

When Peter took you, he truly assumed that you would - eventually - come around and warm up to him.

Peter’s not a bad guy, is he? No.

He doesn’t keep you chained. He doesn’t make you starve. He doesn’t force himself on you. He actually lets you walk around the apartment freely. He plans cute date nights with your favorite movies and snacks. He takes care of you.

He. Does. It. All.

Why? Cause he’s 110% sure that you’re meant to be together, he just knows it. And he wants you to be happy. With him.

Peter gets that being taken away from the comfort of your home can be traumatizing and shocking. He’s understanding about that, he really is.

But it’s really hard to stay positive when you seem determined to shatter the sweet happy dreams he imagines for the two of you. He hates to admit it but you can be a little bitch when you want to.

You destroy the gifts that he lovingly offers you. You enjoy trashing your room (and his). You talk nasty things back. You curse at him. You try to hurt him innumerous times.

It really hurts his feelings.

It breaks his heart when you reject his touch. You can barely manage to utter a few words to him, let alone let him touch you. Like you’re repulsed by him.

You abruptly snatch your arm away from him, moving away to another division whenever he tries to cuddle you. At night, the presence of a pillow wall is mandatory as if you can’t even stand the sight of him.

At first, Peter is deeply hurt, although comprehensive of your situation. Time should heal things. But no. They only get worse.

Peter blames himself for that. Your snappy attitude, the mean behavior. It’s all his fault. Tony also agrees with that, assuring him that had he been more strict with you, none of this would happen.

Slowly, Peter starts to believe in that too. He’s always too nice with you, letting you walk away from misbehaving without any punishment. But he doesn’t want to punish you, he only wants your love and appreciation.

Peter just wants to feel the warmth of your body, he’s desperate for a gesture of affection. He needs it.

Finally he snaps. It was bound to happen one day.

You’re in a bad mood that day and so is Peter. You have a fit, throwing plates to the floor and to the walls, screaming like a banshee. Peter is tired of your attitude, he’s tired from a long day at work and coming home to you acting like a crazy bitch doesn’t help.

He’s tired, moody and exhausted.

You barely have time before he’s pouncing over you, a harsh slap making you yelp. Peter is quick in grabbing you by the hair, dragging you to the room, uncaring of the way you try to kick him away.

Enough is enough.

You want to behave like a bitch? Then you’ll be treated as one cause he no longer has patience for you.

Webs tightly bind your limbs to the bed and Peter jumps on you, ripping your clothes and pushing your panties into your mouth, silencing your pleas.

Your eyes glow with tears, but most importantly, with dread and Peter notices that. He smirks at your frightened reaction. Finally you’re giving him some respect - respect that he deserves.

He slides his hand down your arms, your legs, the smooth skin feeling like heaven and he almost drools at that. You quiver and shake under his touch, completely vulnerable and it feels good. To have you at his mercy, unable to do anything.

Peter kisses your wet cheek, promising to take it easy on you, that he won’t hurt you.

He lies.

The bed violently hits the wall, a result of Peter’s rough thrusts. His stamina never waves down, his desire for you fueling the multiple orgasms he’s already had yet wanting for more.

Beneath him, you’re almost passed out, limbs still glued by his webs. You barely cry, too weak and hurt to keep with your whining.

Peter is not being gentle, fucking you hard so it almost seems like he wants to merge into you, he’s finally unleashing all his frustration.

He fucks you over and over again, the loud sound of skin against skin echoing in the room. Dumping sticky loads of his cum inside you, vigorously abusing your sore hole. He’s insatiable tonight, his hunger for you surpassing any compassion or humanity.

He wants you, he needs you.

When he’s finally had enough, that’s when it hits him what he’s done.

You don’t say a word, a broken look in your eyes, dried tears decorating your face.

Of course Peter feels guilty, you look so sad and gloomy but hey, at least now you’re not fighting him. You let him shower you, unable to fight him back after the assault that he’s put you through, you don’t say a single word, only flinching when he touches you.

And when he takes you back to the bed - after changing the huge mess he’s done - you don’t push him away when he wraps himself around you, sniffing your sweet aroma, his heart content to be so close to you.

Maybe what happened is a good thing.

Maybe now you’ll learn to love him, that’s what Peter thinks to himself as he kisses your hair, falling asleep with you in his arms.

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #yandere avengers #yandere marvel #yandere peter parker #dark marvel #dark peter parker #dark peter parker x reader #yandere peter parker x reader #dark!peter parker #dark!peter parker x reader #yandere!peter parker #yandere!peter parker x reader #tw: yandere #yandere x reader #tw: noncon #dark fic #dark!fic

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ratedfleur · 4 months

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burn it all up.

a series of murders have been planned and accomplished in that very building, only for a group to find out remains of bodies. Now, who will solve these series of mysteries left behind?

zb1 & y/n 8.4k word count genre ୭ mystery

🏷️ : dark content = murders, arson, cursing (and a lot of that), knives, guns, blood, stabbing, corpses, use of morphine & naloxone, y/n is deadass crazy but everyone is crazy in their own ways.

🗒️: as always, likes / reblogs / comments are very appreciated! happy reading! 🗡️

🎼 : the blue danube, Op. 314 (i suggest playing this when you see a 🎼 later :) )

Zero University was an odd school, it was miles away from the city, nearly 3 hours away from the city if you took the train. The students themselves were odd, always drowning in the blood red colored uniform, eyes always had themselves fixated on the new students, finding the new faces odd and nearly disgusting.

You and these 9 men you called friends were people who you chose to bond with after they practically adopted you after you looked like a poor puppy dropped by the dumpster when you were forced to study in Zero University by your narcissistic parents who only cared about themselves.

“Do we really have to go in there?” Yujin whined as they step foot in front of the old shed that was now mysteriously left unlocked after it had been always locked with a huge padlock and chain even years before.

“Aw baby, you scared already?” You teased as he whined once more from beside you, pulling you close to him while Gunwook was scowling behind you and the youngest, bitter that stole his girlfriend away from him.

With Gyuvin and Ricky leading the way, the two opened the old door to the shed only to see nothing but rusty shelves, gardening tools, a few bags of dirt, and a pallet of wood in the far corner.

“Well so much for an adventure.” Jiwoong says as he’s looking around, fumbling with the gardening tools before Gunwook called out to him.

“Woongie hyung, Mattchu hyung, help me with this.” Gunwook said and called out to the two as he stood up straight after trying to lift up the pallet of wood.

The two come at his calling with Jiwoong holding onto one corner of the wood while Matthew was doing the other corner whilst Gunwook was in the middle, lifting up the pallet with the two’s help.

The group went up to them, watching as they put away the pallet to the side before Jiwoong pulled off the old fabric that was lying on the ground– only to reveal a dirt made staircase. “The fuck?” Jiwoong said as he turned his flashlight on from his phone, studying where the dirt staircase led to.

“What the fuck indeed.” You commented before walking right up to them with your flashlight on, heading down confidently to figure out what the staircase of dirt would lead to.

“Noona, wait for me!” Yujin called out to you as you kept descending down the stairs, unbothered by the ants and worms on the dirt. You stopped walking to wait for Yujin who linked his arms into yours while the others followed, you stepped to the side before letting today’s leader lead the way – Ricky and Gyuvin.

“Dude, stop pushing and shoving.” Gyuvin groaned when Ricky was pushing him as they lead the way down the dirt stairs. “That’s why you need to hurry the fuck up, scaredy cat.” Ricky snickered when Gyuvin’s steps started picking up the pace as he led them all down the stairs. Gyuvin’s steps came to a halt when they reached a metal door after what seemed like countless of steps.

“It’s just a door..” Gyuvin says while turning around to face the rest, flashing them in the face with his phone’s flashlight.

“And what do we do with a door, just look at it? Gyubin-ah, you’re so cute.” Ricky cooed as Gyuvin rolled his eyes at him.

The two kept arguing before Jiwoong descended down from where he was, stopping the fight between the two by reaching for the rusty door knob, rattling it a few times before he took a few steps back before abruptly slamming his shoulder on the wooden door, repeating it a few more times before the door staggers, merely releasing dust into the air.

“Wook-ah, give me a hand. Everyone, back up,” Jiwoong says as the younger comes down, Gunwook takes a few steps back like what Jiwoong was doing before they slammed their shoulders on the door, repeating it a few times before the upper part of the door breaks open, making the two take the bottom part by stomping on it.

“Aw look at you two, so cool.” Gyuvin says as he bravely stepped inside what it seemed like an old bunker.

Gyuvin immediately grimaces before he gags, covering his mouth and nose as he lead the way.

The rest quickly follow in, faces scrunching up at the stench as they walked further into the dark bunker. It was dark inside, no light could get into the bunker as they were deep into the ground. The bunker was not fully replenished with what it should have, instead, it was a simple dark room that reeked of something that they couldn’t figure out.

“Should we really be in here? I mean, there’s nothing to see.” Yujin said with you linking your arm around his as the group kept walking further into the huge bunker.

Nobody responded, instead, they kept walking and flashing their flashlights around to see whatever they could amidst the darkness.

The group was filled with banter as they kept walking, not until Matthew called out to the rest who stood behind him. The hand that held up his phone shook, flashlight shaking as he pointed it to the ground.

“What the fuck is that..” Matthew’s voice trembled as he bent down to further look at what he saw lying on the ground.

He could feel his heart thumping against his chest as he came into view with what he saw.

A severed hand.

Matthew gags as he stand up straight, stumbling away from the group as they called out to him. He gags before spitting on the ground before he looks up in horror, only for his flashlight to land on another severed hand.

“Metyu-yah, are you okay?” Jiwoong called out to him, holding up the flashlight to look at a pale Matthew, he holds onto the younger’s shoulders, helping the man stand up on stable feet.

“Hyung, it’s just a petty prop. Pretty cool huh?” Gunwook laughed as he held it up, waving at the rest who chuckled at the man’s antics.

Matthew doesn’t say anything but instead he stays by Jiwoong’s side.

They were joking around, saying how it looked like a realistic prop for a play. “Maybe we could get props for the drama club in here, maybe there’s a dead body too.” Gunwook joked as they kept walking not until they saw a pile of rotting bodies.

The rotting bodies were being swarmed with flies, maggots were squirming around on the bodies’ open wounds, liquids were pooling on the ground they were laying on.

“What the fuck–” Matthew curses before he stumbles out of Jiwoong’s hold, gagging as he covered his mouth after he saw the horrid sight.

“Holy shit, that’s fucking disgusting.” You said as you flashed your flashlight to look at the bodies.

The rest were stunned upon seeing rotting flesh right in front of them, piles and piles of bodies just placed right next to each other. Some were fairly new, barely any rotting to begin with, whilst some were full on rotting with flies and worms moving on the rotten flesh.

“Y-yah, let’s go–” Matthew says before he gags once more, backing away from the group.

“Matthew-yah!” Hanbin called out to Matthew who didn’t turn back when he went up the stairs, gagging as he kept running up. He turns to face the group, “I’ll go after Matthew, you shouldn’t stay down here.” Hanbin says before he left them, chasing after Matthew.

Gyuvin, being the curious one of the group, he creeped up towards one of the bodies, kneeling down beside it with a hand covering his mouth and nose whilst studying the body. He poked at it with a random metal stick on the ground, touching and moving the skin.

He studied it whilst the rest conversed behind him, “This body is new..” he suddenly said before he stood up, facing the rest of them.

“Huh? How did you know that?” Taerae asked him as he tried to look at the body, “It’s not rotting yet, if it was buried down here for a while, it would’ve been rotting like the rest.” Gyuvin answers like he just pointed out the obvious.

“And that’s what you get for watching way too many medical dramas.” Ricky says before Gyuvin lunged at him, poking at his shoulder.

“But that doesn’t answer the question, who killed and brought them here?” Gunwook asks before he shivers at the thought of a killer just roaming around the halls of their very school.

Whilst the group kept conversing about the bodies and how they were possibly killed, Gunwook on the otherhand was spacing out from what he was hearing amidst his friends’ voices.

Help me.. They killed me.. He shot and brought me here.. They are monsters, murderers even.. Please, help us..

The voices said as Gunwook’s eyes roamed around the space before they landed on the poor bodies right beside them. His heart thumped when the voices suddenly screamed, making Gunwook flinch.

“Hyung, you okay?” Yujin asked as he reached for Gunwook’s shoulder, pulling him out of his reverie. The older nodded, making Yujin smile at him.

“Yeah, we should just go.” Gunwook says.

Gyuvin chuckles before he teased the younger, “Why? You afraid already?”

Gunwook rolled his eyes at him and flashed his middle finger at him, making the latter laugh.

“Don’t you want to solve this? I mean, a bunker full of bodies near our school that’s practially miles away from the city..” Taerae commented whilst looking over at the others who looked like they were deep in thought.

You stayed silent, watching as they were actually visibly thinking about what Taerae said.

The school was known for being miles away from the city, the people who founded the school believed that it was better to be far away from distractions. That was the sole reason why the university was far away from the rest, the only place beside it was the school’s dormitory and nothing else. If one wanted to buy something from the establishments like a mall or even dine out, you had to take a train for 3 hours.

“I mean, don’t we have to report this to the police too? There must be at least one near us..” Yujin questioned with his voice decreasing in volume at the end, seeming like he was unsure with his own words.

Gunwook nodded, agreeing with the youngest.

“And then? Risk the potential of us finding out who killed these people? Don’t you want to be awarded for something like that?” Taerae asked the group innocently, looking right at Gunwook and Yujin.

The two youngest eyed each other before Yujin saw how Gunwook visibly shivered once more, “It work hurt, right hyung?” Yujin asked with his doe eyes which has Gunwook actually thinking if he should join this potentially mind boggling mission.

“Wook-ah, we’ll be fine. We’ll just get justice for these losers.” Gyuvin poked the closest one’s shoulder with his foot.

With the others convincing him, Gunwook finally agreed and nodded at them. “Fine, no trouble or else, I’m out.” he says with intent in his words as the rest nodded, “Now help me turn some of them over, we need names.” Hao said before he went over to one of the bodies that were flipped over, face flat on the dirt.

Gunwook walked with heavy steps, still feeling unsure with what they were doing. Nonetheless, he still helped Hao flip the bodies over with a frown on his face. He could feel himself get sick when he saw that one of the bodies had a hollow face, already sunken into the skull.

After that, he stayed a few steps behind them as Taerae and Gyuvin studied the bodies as Gyuvin was well knowledged about bodies since he came from a family of doctors. Gunwook simply listened to Gyuvin tell the group about the injuries and possible deaths these people experienced as Jiwoong assisted him in lifting one of the newer bodies, examining them for injuries.

2 hours later, the group declared that they were all people who came from the school: the old principal, Seokhee who was one of the students who tormented Yujin and a few juniors, Jinyoung who was one of the jocks who practically everyone hated, Hwayoung the queen bee, Chaerin and Haein who were her minions.

And these were people who were announced as people who left school with no question, simply choosing to leave and expel themselves.

“Damn, she deserved that.” Gyuvin commented whilst Jiwoong clicked his tongue, “Have some respect, Gyuvin-ah.” the eldest commented as they were all climbing up the stairs after leaving the bunker after they deemed that they examined the bodies just enough for the day.

They went back into the building after leaving the bunker and the shed, conversing ever so often about what they saw. By the time that night hit, Gunwook was left in bed thinking about all the events that happened that very day.

How could it go from normally going to school, roaming around the university ground before they discover a hidden bunker under the school with dead people in them? Gunwook himself couldn’t answer his own questions, let alone the questions in his head about the voices he heard in the bunker.

Gunwook knew spirits could talk to him, he knew that since he was practically a child who was playing with his toy cars not until a child like voice asked from beside him, “Hi, can I play too?”

Gunwook brushed it off, trying not to think about that day’s events before he went off to dreamland, leaving behind all of the troubles he’ll meet with in the morning.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“He’s just a little gullible guy, huh?” One says.

“It’s all this kid’s doing, praise him.” The other says as he ruffles said person’s hair.

“Now that we’ve begun, don’t fuck up or else I’ll will not hesitate to kill you myself.” One says before leaving the group who murmured at their words.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“I found out more about the university, the school was founded by Lee Jimin. Yes, thee Lim Jimin who was a murderer in South Korea. What the media didn’t release is that all of the murders were done on the very ground that the university stands on. But nearly a decade later, another murder was done by a student named Park, the media didn’t release his full name because apparently the family paid them not to. They said he was going crazy over a student they hid by the name of Y because she didn’t like him back, that’s the sole reason why he killed her here and buried her on the campus grounds.” Hao says to the group once they were huddled together in Jiwoong’s dorm, the biggest dorm of all because he was a senior.

“All because she didn’t like him back? That’s tragic..” Yujin muttered from his seat, the rest nodded.

“Anyway, what else did you find? Did you find any information about those in the bunker?” you asked, swiftly switching the topic before Hao nodded, “Taerae and Gyuvin did.” he says while looking up from the laptop.

“Well I dug around with the school files and Principal Kim, Seokhee, Jinyoung, Hwayoung, Chaerin, and Haein were all marked under voluntary leave which is rather unusual since the school prohibits that even with the staff.” Taerae said as he pulled out his ipad, showing the pdf copies to the group.

“Okay, that’s weird.. Did the papers mark when they left?” Matthew asked.

Taerae shook his head, “They were blank which is unusual too, all records of leaving the premises should be written down if they were permitted to do so which is probably hard to do so.” he adds.

The group is left in question as they were deciphering whether what happened to those very bodies. They then decided that they would be working in pairs to find out more about those people, whilst you, Taerae, and Hao worked together to find out more about the bunker.

“Okay but then if it went over to the left–” “Just get an overview of the school’s grounds with the shed.” “That shit wouldn’t work, Y/N. I tried it earlier.” “Jesus, let me do it.”

Hao broke off you and taerae’s argument before he took over the laptop, pressing in directions before the system scanned the school’s location – and finally, this included the shed.

He smiles triumphantly before he showed you and taerae who were in awe as the screen showed an x-ray version of the building along with whatever is underground. “Okay, but what separates the school and the bunker? There should be something that lies between those two..” you muttered before typing on the laptop, trying to figure out what material separated the two.

Meanwhile the rest were dreading the fact that they couldn’t find anything else about the people other than they just vanished into thin air, no warning or even letters left behind even for their family members.

“So these people are practically nobodies out of the school..” Matthew commented as he sat beside Jiwoong who stayed still, watching each and everyone’s facial expressions.

You hummed, standing up from your seat while pacing back and forth, visibly thinking about what to do next. Gunwook calls out to you, making you look at him once you stopped walking, he ushers you to sit beside him, wrapping his arm around you once you sat.

“Ease your mind, hmm? Let’s think about this together.” he whispers to you, making you nod as you leaned into his embrace. “What about we burn the building down?” You suddenly say, making 9 heads look over to you at a snap.

“What?” “Are you crazy?” “This is absurd!” “Noona, I don’t think that’s a good idea..” and another series of sentences came right at you.

“Okay look. If we burn the building down, people won’t know about the bodies or the bunker. If the staff or students find out that we are the only ones who know about that bunker and whatever is inside that bunker, we’re going to be framed for murder.” You said to them in a calm manner, telling them about your thoughts.

“And arson is a less of a crime?” Hanbin says to you, making you deadpan.

“I hate this building, I hate this school, I hate those who roam in it as if the school isn’t some fucked up organization. Don’t you feel the same?” You asked back, making Hanbin look away from you, ignoring those eyes of yours that knew his answer.

You looked over at the rest who looked away from your questioning eyes, including Gunwook. Sighing, you stood up and slid your boyfriend’s arm off of your shoulder as you went back to pacing back and forth.

Gunwook watched as you paced silently, feeling concerned that you were really into bringing this mystery murder down. He stands up and walks up to you, grabbing you by the shoulders, stopping you from pacing any further.

“Okay, I’m in. Just no dying or killing each other, okay?” Gunwook told you as he comfortably rubbed your shoulders, making you purse your lips together before you saw him smile gently at you.

“Okay, I’m not killing you, no worries.” You chuckle when Gunwook laughs.

“But how do we execute what you’re planning?” Hao asked, making you turn to look at him.

“Well, we do know that the bunker and building is separated by a thin piece of barrier, which if things go wrong up here, it could burn down and crumble, crushing the bodies and hiding whatever happened in the bunker.” Taerae answers for you, making you nod in agreement.

“And the people and staff?” Matthew asks.

“We kill them too, easy.” Jiwoong replies, shrugging as if it was a normal answer.

“I know you hate the people in here too, Metyu-yah.” The eldest adds, knowing that the rest of you fully agree with him because the people in the school are insufferable.

“Okay so that’s settled, we hate this place and the people in it. So how are we going to burn this place down?” Matthew asks everyone, watching as everyone simultaneously pursed their lips together.

Hanbin claps his hands together, catching everyone’s attention. “So I was thinking–” He said as he opened his ipad up, opening the drawing app before he started telling everyone about his plan.

One night later, the plan is complete. Things were settled that to burn the building down, fuel cans would be subtly hid on all floors and at every end of the hallways, heavy duty lighters would be bought, knives and guns would be purchased by Jiwoong, and then it was settled that the plan would be executed on accomplishment day, a day wherein students aren’t allowed to exit the premises because they need to accomplish their school requirements for the year.

“I already bought the fuel, it’s arriving on saturday.” Ricky told the group as he was in charge of purchasing the fuel, meanwhile the group were looking at the school calendar to plan which day they would execute their plan. The current month was already filled with events, except for the 4 days, the completion of requirements.

“Well, the 17th, 20th, 23rd, and 26th are all available.” Hanbin recalls as he was a part of the student council which was an advantage to the group.

You nod before walking over to the calendar plastered on the wall, you looked and browsed over to the dates Hanbin mentioned before you took out the marker in your pocket and encircled 26th.

“26th, that’s final. Let’s burn this shit down.” You say before smirking as you turned around to face them, making the rest cheer.

Dawn on the 26th soon came, everything was all set – fuel cans were installed, security cameras and speakers were hacked, the metal doors were set to lock by the time the clock striked 11:30, the tent with all the devices were set right by the shed just hiding in plain sight, guns and knives were distributed and the plan was set.

A few handful of the staff and students were forming an idea due to the group’s sudden absences especially during attendance in the dorms, a daily routine when everyone is set to stay in the dorms when the clock strikes 7.

With everyone busy accomplishing their requirements, everyone except the group were in the classrooms along with staffs and professors monitoring their moves, though they failed because there were 10 who aren’t in their respective classrooms.

Now seated at the tent with Hanbin and Taerae, you let the 7 formulate their own plans on how to move around the school once the clock strikes 11 with lights shut down to a dim with doors automatically locked to keep everyone in their rooms before the school is burnt down.

“Okay, let’s get things straight. Taerae, Hanbin, and I are staying at the tent to monitor your moves through the system, we’ll assist you if some things happen.” You said through the earpieces, monitoring their body heat through the scanners that’s interconnected through the outdoor camera pointed towards the school.

The group nods, “Meanwhile Jiwoong and Matthew are monitoring the halls along with Gyuvin who’d come along later on.” You add, seeing how they nodded through the heat scanners.

“For now, stay clear from their eyes. We don’t want them to know who is the mastermind behind all this, are we clear?” You said but you heard no reply, you called out to them whilst watching them through the monitor, switching camera views only to have the camera covered by a cloth, one of the tactics since the school might’ve caught onto the group.

Meanwhile Yujin, Gunwook, Hao, Ricky, and Gyuvin were talking amidst each other, temporarily closing their connection from their in-ears because they mistakenly left a window open, letting an administrator peek through the windows, studying their faces before Yujin, being the closest one, shut the curtains.

“Shit, they saw us right?” Yujin asked as he shut the curtains closed, eyes shaking as he turned around to face the rest.

“They–”

Hao wasn’t able to continue what he was saying when suddenly the door knob started rattling, as if someone was in a hurry to open the door and barge right in.

Yujin stood frozen in his spot when suddenly, someone was pounding on the door, asking for help on whoever was inside the room.

“Please! I need help, someone was chasing me with a knife and then–” The voice cried out from behind the door, sounds of desperate crying were heard as the group were quietly eyeing each other, not knowing what to do before suddenly a blood curdling scream interrupted her own words.

They stayed silent not until they heard bubbling right outside the door, seeming like someone was being strangled right outside. What Gunwook didn’t know is that the very person behind the door was Jiwoong and Matthew strangling a girl who got in the way of their purge.

“Shut the fuck up.” Jiwoong mutters as he cuts the girl’s arm, giving her a warning to shut her mouth before Matthew picked her up over his shoulder, letting the blood from her head’s injury drip on the floor as he kept walking towards a room they left vacant as a storage to keep those who got in their way after they severely injured them.

“Now what?” Matthew asked once he dropped the body down on the floor, not listening to her cries.

“We kill.” Jiwoong says as he and Matthew left the room, letting the younger lock up the room with a chain and a series of locks.

The two walked along the halls, eyes digging into those who attempted to leave the classrooms where they were forced to stay in the moment that the sun set. Their eyes were sharp, immediately catching those to attempted to escape, Jiwoong killed by firing his gun whilst Matthew kicked them down onto the ground before cutting them – a mere warning if they attempted to escape once more, to which they did, resulting to dying from another gunshot from Jiwoong’s gun.

Matthew and Jiwoong then separated ways upon Taerae’s message through the in-ears they all have, making sure to communicate with each other for the night to go well.

Jiwoong went out of the building to be with you, Taerae, and Hanbin to monitor everyone’s positions and locations in the building, making sure to precisely tell anyone to go to whatever place they need to be.

“Now hyung, you do know what to do right?” Hanbin asked through the in ears as he was sitting right across Taerae and you who controlled the in-ears while monitoring them through the x-ray system with trackers in their in-ears.

Hao nods as he’s walking through the halls as if people weren’t crying out to him from the locked classroom doors. “Yep, burst the fuel cans up and light it up when i’m in the middle.” He says as he’s fiddling with the lighter, whistling as he’s crazily waving at those who cried in front of the classroom windows.

He was just walking casually not until the in-ears started to release static noises before sounds of calling were heard.

“Wait… Hao hyung.. Hao hyung, get out!” Taerae said through the earpiece, multiple alarmed voices blasting through Hao’s earpiece.

“What? But I haven’t even—“ “Forget the plan, burn the place up when you get out!” Jiwoong now said through his earpiece, making Hao curse as he ran through the halls, hand reaching into his pocket for the lighter.

Multiple voices were panicking in his earpiece, making Hao panic as he kept running through the halls.

“I swear to fucking god, you have got to get out of there!” Ricky cursed in chinese as he himself was running down the staircase, frantically running as he hurriedly tried to escape the building.

“I know— Fuck, just hold on!” Hao replied to Ricky in chinese as he dodged the falling pieces of the crumbling ceilings, he passed by bloody bodies on the ground being burned by the small lit fires, smelling vile as he ran pass them.

“Hyung, turn right into the corner and run down the stairs.” “Copy.” Taerae and Hao conversed as the older hurriedly ran into the corner and down the stairs as instructed, letting out a sound of pain when his skin touches a slither of metal.

“Fuck!” Hao cursed as he held onto his bleeding scratch, steps coming into a halt when he reaches three different hallways down the staircase.

“Taerae-yah, which one? Hurry!” Hao said as he frantically tried to look into the hallways, only for his eyes to land on burning and crumbling ceilings.

Hao reached up to touch his earpiece when he hears nothing, he calls out to them. “Taerae yah? Jiwoong hyung? Ricky! Oh shit!” Hao cursed once more when a piece of the ceiling dropped behind him, making him stumble a few steps before he randomly chose a hallway.

Hao kept running through what it seemed like an endless hallway, finally reaching a exit that the group isn’t aware about. He had no choice but to exit this way, already knowing what his fate would be if he went back and tried to exit through their planned exit.

Hao stumbled right outside, falling onto the pavement as another piece fell behind him. His hands were scratched up as he tried to get on his feet, only for him to sit down as he watched pieces of the building crumble to the ground.

“Ricky? Ricky, fucking answer me! Where are you!” Hao’s hands trembled as he pressed onto his earpiece, only to hear a series of static sounds before multiple voices cracking up were heard.

“Gunwook— Yujin ah? Yujin-ah? Yujin, where’s Ricky!” hao screamed when he got a stable signal, only to hear uneven breathing.

“H-hyung, he’s still inside. I c-couldn’t!” The youngest cried into the earpiece whilst Gunwook’s faint voice was heard, comforting the youngest.

“We couldn't get to him, he was way too deep into the fire.” Gunwook spoke into the earpiece, making Hao curse in frustration as he angrily cursed into the wind.

“i’m going back in—“ Hao says.

“Hao, don’t even try to!” Hanbin says to him, sounds of typing heard.

“I’m getting Ricky whether you like it or not.” Hao says firmly as he stood up, running back into the burning building.

“Hao no!” was the last thing he heard.

“No, what the fuck hyung!” Hanbin frustratedly said before standing up, taking the headset off before running off, not listening to you, Taerae, or Jiwoong calling out to him.

“We can’t just let him go, Oppa..” You said before standing up, slipping off your headset, meanwhile Taerae and Jiwoong looked at you with a hesitant look on their faces.

“Okay fine.” Taerae sighed as he slipped his own headset off, running off with you and Jiwoong to run after Hanbin who ran straight into the burning building without looking back.

Hanbin desperately ran and called out to Hao, looking for the older who was looking for Ricky in the dark halls that were soon going to be swallowed up by the flames.

“Hao hyung! Fuck, where are you!” Hanbin called out to him, running into the flames despite some of his clothing getting caught in them.

Gunwook, now alone after Yujin said he’d look after Ricky too before he went on his own ways. Gunwook then walked towards a different hallway, looking around with his flashlight in hand, calling out to Ricky ever so often.

He runs into a few people, all bloody from their stabs. The people desperately went up to him, touching his hands as they asked him for help. Gunwook touches their shoulders to keep them off of him, pushing them away before he spoke to them.

“Run into that corridor, you’ll find help.” He says while pointing them at that direction whilst they ran, running towards their deaths when they reached a dead end with flames.

He continues walking straight ahead of him, still calling out to Ricky.

Gunwook turns into a corner, strides getting slower because of the unstable floors that looked like it was going to fall underneath him. He kept walking, not until he could hear voices from afar.

“Hey, you shouldn’t be in here.” He said, looking around for bodies who’s voices they belonged to. Seeing nothing, he kept walking ahead of him not until he saw a group of people standing in the middle of the hallway with clown masks on.

He stood still for a moment, hiding behind a pillar as he listened to them speak. Gunwook couldn’t recognize these voices, these people had voice changers in them, making Gunwook think that the killers are in the building – something they didn’t expect to happen or plan about.

Gunwook quickly touches his ear piece, “People are here in the hallway, they’re wearing masks with like voice changers in them. Guys? Taerae? Y/n?” he says before standing flat against the wall with his back placed against it.

He listens a few more times before he creeps in closer before he stood right in the middle, clutching his gun and knife in its straps against his body.

Gunwook could tell the group were arguing, practically screaming at each other, nearly ripping each other’s heads off if they could.

“You should back the fuck off before I get my hands on you, I swear to god! I will fucking kill you, we nearly lost him because of your fucking stupidity!”

“For your fucking information, it was his fault we nearly fucked up!”

🎼

“No! You fucked this up, Ricky-yah!” Gyuvin said to Ricky who looked at him with sharp eyes.

“I didn’t do shit, Gyuvin. I was supposed to run and kill them not until the fucking building started crumbling down–” Ricky defended himself before Matthew cut him off. “Yeah and then it all went bloody wrong because someone put the fuel and set fire at the wrong floor.” Matthew says before he looked over at a guilty Hanbin.

“In my defense, everything was going wrong the moment Hao decided to run back in–” Hanbin defended himself before you stopped them from arguing even more.

“Everyone shut the fuck up! You all fucked this shit up, you were supposed to follow the plan just until we corner Gunwook to burn down–” You said before you heard a sound behind you, immediately whipping your head only to meet eyes with Gunwook.

His eyes were confused, trying to decipher who you were. He stayed silent as he was looking over at you before they shifted to look behind you, looking at the other guys.

You turned your head to look back at the group, cursing them through your eyes. Through their own clown masks, you could easily tell how their eyes avoided your piercing ones. Turning around swiftly, you faced the very love of your life – or rather the very bane of your existence.

“Hello, my love.” You smiled through the mask, hands fiddling with the knife you had that was dripping with blood.

You could see how his eyes were visibly confused, eyes shifting from every pair of eyes that he could slowly recognize through the silicone clown masks.

Then reality struck him, Gunwook was being fooled by everyone else, including you, his girlfriend.

“Baby wait no.. Y/N, you were the killer all along?” Gunwook asked as he stood right in front of you, hands all red from all of the bloody bodies that he touched as they begged him for help.

“Why baby? Is there something wrong? I’m just like you are, Gunwook. Or rather, you are just like your older brother. ” You smiled at him as the 10 of you all stood in a burning hallway before a group of students ran frantically past you all, screaming and crying as they hurriedly ran towards the exits.

“In fact, we are all the same. Brutal murderers who are hiding in plain sight.” Jiwoong said as he stood right next to you.

“W-wait.. My brother? What did Gunhoo hyung do with me and these killings?” Gunwook cluelessly asked as he flinched when he saw someone stumble right beside him, all bloody as she crawled on the ground, heading towards the exit.

“Your fucking brother killed my sister right here just because she didn’t like him back!” You spat angrily at him with fury burning in your eyes just like the fires in the building.

“And you are going to fucking pay for that.” You said as you handed Gunwook a sparkwheel lighter forcefully, shoving it in his hand. Gunwook twisted and turned the lighter in his hand as he looked at it, still unsure about what he was going to do.

“Do not, under any circumstance, try to run away from me, Gunwook-ah. I will not hesitate to kill you with my own hands just like how your brother killed my sister.” You warned him as you came close to him, a glint of anger flashing in your eyes as you showed him the bloody knife, blade shining on the blinking ceiling lights.

Gunwook nodded with a shake in his eyes, hand enveloping the lighter as he let you led the way out of the burning school. You walked confidently right in front of him as the rest of the boys walked behind him, practically guarding Gunwook from running away.

“What happened to your sister?” Gunwook quietly asked from behind you, making you turn your head to look at him before chuckling, “It started when your brother chased after her desperately, trying to get her on a date. Things were normal not until he went crazy, killing her in that fucking bunker.” you spat.

“Why can’t you love me back?” Gunhoo questioned your sister as she lied flat on the ground as Gunhoo kneeled above her body, keeping her down.

She whimpers when he takes out a knife, the blade shines under the white light of the bunker he took her to. She visibly shakes when Gunhoo presses the knife’s blade against her neck, just pressing right at her skin.

“I just wanted poor you to love me but then you didn’t do what you’re supposed to. I’m assuming you wouldn’t want me to put an end to your agony, huh?” He questioned once more before he took the knife away from her neck, throwing it on the dirt beside him.

“Just one vile of this and I’ll let you die a sweet and short one.” Gunhoo smiles with a glint in his eyes as he waves the vial of morphine right in front of her eyes.

“All i wanted was for you to love me, that was it.” He says whilst taking the cap off of the syringe before he flicked his middle finger against it, taking the bubbles out of the syringe before he slipped the needle into her skin, making her whimper against the fabric in her mouth, she wails loudly when Gunhoo takes it out of her, throwing it aside just like his knife.

“P-please.. I don’t want to die, I don’t want to leave my sister– a-alone..” She choked on her own saliva as she cried.

“Oh no baby, you won’t die just yet. Just 9 more minutes before you succumb to your death.” Gunhoo smiles before he sat himself down beside her, watching as she cried and sobbed, begging for him to stop and let her live instead.

Just a few minutes later, she was convulsing on the ground as she seizured right beside Gunhoo who simply watched as the love of his life took her last few breaths before he left the bunker, leaving her to rot before he lived his life – living freely before he got caught after a year.

“I didn’t know, I swear. If I knew then–” Gunwook said before he flinched at you abruptly pushing the exit wide open, doors slamming against the wall.

“Then what, Gunwook? Would you have brought my sister to life? No, so shut the fuck up.” You told him coldly before you walked right out of the building with the rest following suit, leaving Gunwook slightly behind them before he followed, steps hesitant as he could smell wood burning.

Walking right out of the building, you and the rest took your masks off, face tainted with blood and cuts from those who struggled in your hands as they mercilessly died.

“Since the fuckers fucked the plan up, we’ll go straight for the end. Gunwook, burn this shit down. Burn everything down that includes all of the pain my sister went through because of your dumb fuck of a brother.” You said with a stoic look on your face as you stared right in front of you, staring at the school building, watching as flames ate up the inside as screams and smoke came out from the opened windows.

You watched cruelly as you caught sight of a student staring directly at you, desperately calling and asking you for help.

Gunwook gulps when Matthew bumps his shoulder with his, “Hurry or else, you’re going to die along with them.” the older says before he sits himself by Gunwook’s feet who stayed frozen on the grass.

Jiwoong on the otherhand was watching Gunwook hesitate and fumble around with the lighter, looking back and forth from you and the school. “Y/n, I can’t– please.” Gunwook called out to you, making your head whip back to look at him with your furious eyes.

“Do it or else I’m bringing you into the building myself before burning it down.” You say while you walked towards him, pulling onto his collar as he resisted. “Fine fine, fuck! I’ll do it!” Gunwook exclaimed before you let go of his collar, pushing him a few steps towards the building.

Gunwook shakily held up the lighter in his hand before he walked a few steps towards the building’s entrance that you left open, not until he suddenly backtracked and sighed as he faced you.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t..” Gunwook’s voice quivered as he spoke, making you scream in frustration as you kept rambling and cursing at him. “One. Fucking. Job. Gunwook-ah, you just need to fucking burn this shit down! Fuck! I could kill you myself, Park Gunwook!” You cursed and screamed at him, looking like a maniac with blood staining your skin.

His eyes shook as he looked at you, throwing the lighter down at the ground which causes you to become even more furious. He watches as you screamed once more before abruptly grabbing something in your pocket before you threw something at the ground. You turn your head slightly to meet eyes with Jiwoong and Matthew before they walked right up to Gunwook, grabbing the younger by his shoulders, forcing him to lie on his back on the ground.

“W-wait, I’ll do it! Fuck– I told you I’ll do it! I’ll burn it down!” Gunwook struggled in the two older men’s hold as he was forcefully put on the ground whilst you walked up to him with a full syringe in hand.

You shook your head at him, getting on your knees as you crawled your way on top of Gunwook’s torso. Clicking your tongue, Jiwoong held down Gunwook’s arm flat on the ground before you leaned down with a smile as you looked at Gunwook who kept trashing around.

“Decide and I won’t kill you.” You said as you forcefully pulled up Gunwook’s sleeve before pressing the syringe into his arm, making Gunwook groan and trash around despite having a needle in him that put morphine in his system.

“Y/N.” Hao warned you, making you whip your head to look back at the older with furious eyes.

“Don’t start.” his eyes say to you, making you roll your eyes before you turned to face Gunwook who kept thrashing underneath you, Jiwoong, and Matthew.

“So? Have you decided?” You tutted as an evil smile was forming on your face as Gunwook kept thrashing around, making him nod as you asked him a question.

“Yes! I’ll– I’ll help you!” Gunwook shouted before you smiled, “Good boy. Hao oppa, naloxone please.” You said before a little bottle and a sterile syringe was handed over to you, precisely getting the exact amount to kill the morphine in Gunwook’s body.

You get off of Gunwook, letting the two men let go of him whilst he was catching his breath, eyes filled with whatever emotion he was feeling. You honestly couldn’t tell, all you could think off was how badly you wanted this damn of a school to burn down along with your sister’s horrid memories.

Paying no mind to Gunwook who hurriedly sat up, getting up on shaky legs as he looked for the lighter you gave him a few moments prior that he threw down on the ground. His hand is shaky when he fumbles around with it, thumb flicking the cap open before watching the flame light up before shutting the cap.

Keeping your eyes on Gunwook, you signal Jiwoong and Matthew to stay guard behind him, ready to tackle him down if he doesn’t do his job well. You kept the idea in your mind that if Gunwook doesn’t burn the school down, you’re injecting him with morphine before throwing him into the pits of fire, letting him die a tragic one.

Jiwoong and Matthew stay guard, knives in hand to slit Gunwook’s skin if he backs out. Meanwhile the group were watching everything unveil – the school slowly burning and crumbling from the inside and out, you having your eyes fixated on Gunwook and him only, and Jiwoong and Matthew behind him.

Gunwook walks up to the entrance with his shaky steps, he stays a few steps back from the entrance of podium before he flicks the lighter open, watching the flame quiver and shake in the air before he took a deep breath and a few steps back before he threw the lighter onto the fuel can by the entrance door before it exploded, making him flinch as he stumbled onto the ground, crawling backwards as the school started to fully burn up.

“See? It wasn’t so bad.” You smiled as you watched the outer side of the building get eaten up by the flames, the screams and cries getting louder as the fire led to the inside. You crazily played The Blue Danube through the school’s speakers where they play the morning announcements, you smiled as you sat down on the grass, watching as the higher parts of the building started crumbling down, crushing the two floors underneath it.

With the flame eating the building up, the red and orange colors illuminated the night, flames coming out through the windows, shards exploding on the ground.

With the smile etched on your face, Gunwook no longer recognized you from the woman he loved, you turned crazy within a span of minutes. He watched as you watched and laughed as parts of the building started crumbling down to the ground, screams and cries dying down from the inside of the building.

Meanwhile the rest were now staying a few steps back from you and Gunwook, eyes fixated on the building. For once, they felt triumphant in their lives as the place they hated most died right in front of them.

Jiwoong and Matthew were standing alongside each other, smiling at the other when they meet eyes. Hanbin, Hao, and Yujin were standing in a line as they had their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders. Ricky and Gyuvin triumphantly laughed and celebrated when the building now crumbled down, only having the lower half before it fell and covered the bunker up. Meanwhile Taerae simply had his eyes fixated on the building with no emotions present on his face.

You looked back at the group, smiling at them when they looked down at you.

“So? Now what?” Taerae suddenly spoke, making you look over at him before you got on your feet, facing them.

Meeting eyes with gunwook, he looked at you like you were a stranger, just how you liked it. He had a frown on his face as he stared at you, not liking how you looked to him.

“Come with us and I will spare your life.” You told Gunwook with your mask in hand, handing it over to him as if it was an invitation. He looked at you bitterly before his eyes shifted down to your bloodied hand and mask.

“And if I don’t?” He asks.

“We’ll force you to or you can choose to die, your pick.” Taerae comments from behind Gunwook, making the younger briefly turn his head to look at him before looking back at you who still had the mask out for him to take.

“What will I get in return–” “Jesus fucking christ, you get your life!” You exclaim, dropping the mask on the ground after you got frustrated with his antics.

“Do you really want to die because I could kill you—” You said, stomping right over to Gunwook before you held his collar tightly before Jiwoong went over and pulled you off of Gunwook. “I’m going to fucking kill you instead, get it together.” The eldest said to you as you struggled in his hold, trashing around and screaming at him to let you go.

Gunwook watched as you cursed and trashed around, trying to get Jiwoong to let go of you. “Fuck, let go of me! I’m not going to kill him!” You screamed and scratched Jiwoong’s arm that he had wrapped around you, making him wince as he let go of you.

“If I can’t kill him, I’ll kill you instead.” You told Jiwoong as you took your knife out of its casing on your thigh, taking it out and pointing it at Jiwoong who deadpanned at you before putting his hands up, surrendering.

“Don’t, I’ll join you..” Gunwook suddenly commented, making you turn to face him with the knife still in hand. You smiled crazily while walking over to him, twisting and turning the knife in your hand.

“Then welcome to hell, my love.” You say and smile at Gunwook.

#mikha's works.#zb1 #zerobaseone #zb1 imagines #zb1 scenarios #zb1 x reader #zb1 jiwoong #zb1 zhanghao #zb1 hanbin #zb1 matthew #zb1 taerae #zb1 ricky #zb1 gyuvin #zb1 gunwook #zb1 yujin #murder mystery #kpop imagines #kpop smau

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triforce-of-mischief · 10 days

Text

A Day for Fun

For @crazylittlejester, who requested Warriors getting a hug and I let him have a nice day on top of it.

Summary: Twilight reminds Warriors to stop fussing over the others for a while and let himself have fun.

Words: 500

AO3

Please show your support with a reblog! Likes do nothing.

“Yes, Four, I know this is your era- not so fast, Wind- and you’re excited for the festival- Wild if you stay put for another minute I’ll buy you a slice of cake with my own rupees- and to see your Zelda- again, it’s lovely to meet you, your highness, if you’ll excuse us for just one moment- but we need some ground rules before everybody runs off. Like, how long we explore before regrouping, and where we’ll meet up. Is there anywhere nearby that’ll work?”

Four crossed his arms and tapped his foot on the ground, scowling up at Warriors with unrestrained annoyance. “The cafe on the other side of town, or the inn over there.” He pointed, and Warriors chose the nearest option.

“Let’s try to all be at the inn by sundown, then. That gives us all day to enjoy the festival if we split up now-”

The chain took the cue before Warriors even gave it, sprinting in every direction to take in everything the Picori Festival had to offer. Four and Dot ran to the bakery, holding hands and giggling, and Wild was close behind. Wind and Time gravitated to the games of chance, and Hyrule and Sky were already out of sight.

“If you run out of rupees, that’s your fault!” Warriors shouted to absolutely nobody. Legend gave him a sympathetic pat on the back before wandering over to a bottle vendor.

“C’mon, cap. Sometimes you just gotta let them do their own thing,” said Twilight, the only Link still standing beside Warriors.

“Yeah, I know,” Warriors sighed, surveying the town square. It did look like peaceful, innocent fun, and Warriors wished he wasn’t so busy worrying over the others. It wasn’t a good day to ask the local folk about monsters, but it was also very easy to imagine his younger companions getting lost or into trouble without him knowing.

Twilight nudged his shoulder, apparently reading his thoughts. “I said, let them have their fun. Who knows, maybe you can too. When’s the last time you let yourself relax?”

Warriors thought for a minute before giving up. “It’s been too long,” he admitted. “But with all these kids around I-”

“Teens,” Twilight reminded him. “Heroes, immature sometimes sure, but fully capable of taking care of themselves. Can you take just one day to not be responsible and join the fun?”

“I know how to have fun!” Warriors protested, and rolled his eyes at Twilight’s raised eyebrow. “You’re right, though. I’ll let them be.”

Twilight grinned and held out an arm, an invitation for a hug. Warriors stepped closer, expecting his brother to pull him close for a quick squeeze against his side- but Twilight hugged him fully, and Warriors let himself relax in those brief few seconds. Twilight then pushed him away, still holding his shoulders, and stared right at Warriors. With a mock-serious tone, he stated, “Go have fun out there, Captain. You deserve it.”

Warriors shrugged Twilight’s hands away and gave him a quick salute before he turned on his heel, letting himself be surrounded by the festival.

#hope you like this jes <3 #linked universe #lu #lu warriors #lu twilight #lu four #fable writes #psssst theres a bonus bit on ao3

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starillusion13 · 4 months

Text

MINE TO KILL (Teaser)

Pairing: Royal! Yunho x f! reader (ft. Wooyoung)

Genre: Royal, Mature, Enemies to (?), Smut, Angst

W.C: ??? [1.5k (this is only for teaser)]

Warnings: mention of - to kill someone and threats (all the rest warnings will be in the main plot.

Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

Note: Thanks for reading and reblogging. I appreciate all of your reviews and feel free to text me if you want. Spread love to others, not hate. I love Yunho when he is angry and guys finally I have identified my bias in Ateez I think it’s Yunho😃 dw it will change in my next fic lol

"And you thought I won't notice?"

You flinched to the sudden dark voice from the stairs. The ceiling lights and the lamps had a warm radiant but those lights were still piercing on your skin. As if the hatred inside you was adding to the heat of the lights.

Your piercing eyes reflected the shining light of the light chain decorated on the railings. You gripped the glass tighter in your hand, feeling the anger rising in you to watch him descending the stairs.

He should slip a step and fall from the stairs in front of you. You scoffed mentally.

The boots hit to the marbled stairs slowly, the walk was slow, too slow to let you hear each sound of his boot precisely and clearly.

Your glares directed towards him made his corner of the lip to tug upwards slightly. He watched you intently and noticed your slight fear which you were trying to hide it but still couldn't.

At this point, the grip on the glass could have broke it easily but somehow it didn't break.

Maybe like the hatred inside you was enough to burn him but the slight fear was more powerful to hold it back.

"Why are you here?" You hissed.

He eyed the glass in your grip and walked forward to stand a bit too close to your liking. you were glued to the ground where you were standing. you wanted to run away but still something inside you was forcing you to face it, face him like the royal you are. are you strong enough? maybe not. he is more powerful than you. both in morals and money.

"If I say...for you?" he said and leaned forward to inhale the perfume. he hummed near your ear, "same sweet smell. It always remind me of the night. don't you miss that night of us?"

"Never. why can't you just forget about it?"

he chuckled and stood straight, "oh it's too perfect and interesting to remember. how can I just let that sweet moment slip through my mind. I am carving it on a campus to make it remember even if I have amnesia one day."

you gritted your teeth and raised the glass to throw the wine at him but he was quick to get a hold of your hand and took away the glass from you. you glared at him but he just smirked at you and brought the glass to his lips, maintaining an eye contact with you. you could hear some people passing by the passage through, outside the main door of the hall in the backyard of the palace. you glanced to the direction of the door and hoped someone to enter so that you could escape his grip because your strength was nothing to his.

the voices became distant and the hope inside you died down with the rising of the bubble of the little fear.

"I hope you soon have the amnesia and so that I can kill you by myself." you wiggled your hand under his grip.

he ignored you and asked, "did you drink this yet? did your lips touched the glass?" He swirled the wine in the glass.

"why? will you drink from it now?"

he poked his inner cheek and smirked widely, "oh! I am craving for the lips from that night and if you don't give me the honor to devour them again then I have to do it in this way."

"Yunho, mind your words." you threatened him only to get a loud laugh from him. he threw his head back and amusedly watched his grip on your wrist. the image from that night flashed in front of his eyes. the same way you were whimpering under this hold and begging to him. He could feel something inside him stinging, might be the hatred for you.

"But you loved every words from me when I was choking you." He cocked an eyebrow and smirked.

"Please stop it."

"And if I don't?" He loosened his grip on your wrist and as soon as you stepped backward, he harshly grabbed your arm and pulled you towards him. "Does Wooyoung know about this?"

"About what?" You hissed at him because the grip was leaving red marks on your arm and the rings in his fingers were pressing on your skin.

The touch was filled with hatred or love?

It's visible that it's all about the hate for you.

"About us? The love we shared that night. The way I made you feel good." He leaned to your level to whisper into your ears, his breath hitting your nape and you shivered, "the way I marked you mine. When in the first place you were always his."

"There is nothing called us. That night was a mistake. Don't talk about it again. I don't want Wooyoung to know about it. And I am never yours."

He sipped the wine from your glass and closed his eyes, humming in the taste of the liquid. You watched him in disgust. Gulping down the glass, he noticed your glare.

He paused to stare at the door and when the voice of the person on the other side became distant and he noticed that you were distracted.

He threw the glass across the room and glared at you. You flinched to his sudden action and his grip tightened.

"y/n...y/n...y/n..."

He sang your name and his voice and the name coming out from his mouth sent a shiver down your spine. He noticed your little gulp and harshly turned you around and flushed your back against his chest.

"Y/n and Yunho...isn't our name fit nicely together?" He darkly chuckled in your ears. His one hand grabbing your arm tightly and the other placed on your throat. The hand was caressing the skin around when he suddenly squeezed it.

Your choking sound made him smile widely and in satisfaction he whispered, "it will be so fun to kill you, y/n."

You scoffed, "is that a threat?" and gritted your teeth.

He chuckled amusedly, "why? Does that sound like a compliment?"

He loosened his grip around your throat, you coughed out and took deep breaths but he held you against his body.

"Leave me, Yunho."

"I will only leave you when I will kill you."

He gripped your jaw and made you face him. His glares were strong, his muscles tight against the jaw and neck and the gritted teeth hissing at you.

"Then kill me."

"Y/n. Y/n, where are you?" Wooyoung's voice echoed around the place and you both could hear it. You broke the stare with him and looked towards the door when the door was pushed open.

Yunho changed your position quickly and placed his hand on your cheek and other still holding your arm. Smiling at you and you stared at him in confused silence.

Why is he suddenly acting like this?

Wooyoung entered the hall and found you with Yunho, he smiled at your form who was held by his brother. You both were facing side to him. Yet to notice his approaching steps towards you.

“There you are my love. What are you doing here, y/n? That even with Yunho?” He was smiling all the way and when he reached near you, you pushed Yunho’s hand and hugged Wooyoung, burying your face into his chest.

Wooyoung smiled and patted your head in his embrace and with confusion, he looked at his brother.

“What happened to her?”

Yunho chuckled, “she lost her balance in this dress and her glass fell from her grasp so I was just helping her out.”

Wooyoung nodded and felt your hug tightened around him. You clutched his coat tighter and closed your eyes in anger.

These brothers were always different from each other. Even this day, Wooyoung was in red attire representing his love and passion for you. Whereas Yunho in black attire radiating luxury and power in elegance shooting towards you.

“Are you okay, y/n?”

You nodded to his question and he urged you to stand straight. He told his brother that he would like to leave the place with you to spend some time and his brother nodded. He guided you towards the door and you followed him with your hand entangled with his and looking down. You could feel a stare burning hole on your back but you didn’t look back.

Yunho’s eyes followed till you both exited the door and took a turn. As soon as you were out of his sight, he grabbed his hairs and harshly brushed it back in annoyance.

“I will kill you, y/n.”

He clenched his jaw and glared at the way from where you left with his brother.

“Always remember that you are mine.”

He exhaled heavily and clenched his fist where his knuckled turned white and the palm was almost flushed red with slight edges of the nails digging into his skin.

“Mine to kill.”

T.B.C.

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gyllenhaalstories · 11 months

Photo

UN PARI À PARIS — SUGAR DADDY!JAKE 💗

summary: the title translates to a bet in paris. because jake’s doing a bet and you’re in paris... i’m so smart, oui oui.

warnings: established sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, curse words, smut (daddy kink, mild degradation, pussy spanking, finger sucking, public sex, penetration, creampie). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 3600

photos credits: me @/gyllenhaalstories / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: i’m coming out of my cage and i’ve (not) been doing just fine (and neither does this fic because it’s a mess)... but come on barbie!jake, let’s go party! 💗 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

Jake grabbed the small water bottle from your hand and drank a sip. “I just got an idea.”

You slowly turned your head to the right and studied his face. Not even the wind caused by the fan you waved before your face could hide the mischief that was written all over his features. “Oh no.”

“Oh oui.” He smiled from ear to ear, wrinkles spreading at the corner of his eyes that were partially shielded by the thick frames of his sunglasses. He placed the bottle on the chair, in the spot between his open legs. “We’ll make a bet.”

You slid your sunglasses down on your nose, looking over them. He did the same, causing you to smile. “Go on.”

“Remember how you didn’t want to be here today?”

“I wanted to be here,” you corrected him, hoping he knew that you enjoyed the opportunity to attend such a big sports event, “I didn’t want to sit in the sun for hours.”

“That’s exactly what I said: you didn’t want to be here.” You rolled your eyes. “So, I thought we could bet on how we’ll spend the rest of the evening once the game is over.”

You quickly glanced behind Jake’s shoulders, his friends were chatting in French. Something about the colour rose, you assumed they were discussing how Jake’s Barbie pink shirt clashed with pretty much everything in the court.

“If Djokovic wins,” Jake spoke, catching all of your attention again. “We go straight back to the hotel...” You mirrored Jake’s smirk as he paused, both of you knew what he intended with that silence. “But if the Norwegian player wins, we’re going out for dinner” he mouthed the words ‘with them’, his thumb in front of him and pointing back at the couple without raising suspicions.

“That doesn’t make sense.” You frowned. “That’s not even a bet.”

Visibly disappointed, Jake asked you why.

“We both know Novak’s gonna win. Everybody knows that.”

“I didn’t know you were a tennis connoisseur. That’s hot.” He leaned forward to capture you lips in a kiss.

You kissed him back. Then, you pondered at his bet for a minute, honouring the reflection time it took him to come up with such a plan. “My bet is on Djokovic.” You answered with a firm nod, stretching your hand out to shake his.

Jake enthusiastically shook your hand. “Mine too.”

You rolled your eyes again. You set down the fan to cross your fingers, some extra superstition was more than welcome if it could avoid an extra late dinner in a crowded restaurant where people would argue about the winner of the French Open.

Jake nudged your sides with his elbow, glowing in all the pinkness of his shirt. “We look good together.” He leaned his arm on your thighs, resting a possessive hand on your knee which brought you to scoot closer towards him.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You sure did look good together. You reached to his neck and fixed the pendent of his silver chains, placing it in the middle where all of your hickeys and love marks had sadly faded away.

“That guy better fucking wins or else.” He flexed his neck, making it crack a little bit to release some of the growing tension. Needless to say, he would have a hard time turning his head left and right to follow that stupid neon green ball around. He would rather have his eyes glued on you the entire time and get out of the court before the second set.

*~*~*

The tension. It was unbearable.

Each ace, each quick sneaky hit, each grunt from the tennis players made you squirm on your uncomfortable chair and it made you wish this would all come to an end quicker. Just give the man his obnoxiously giant trophy so Jake and you could get ahead of the crowd. However, you still tried to enjoy the game, not that you paid much attention to it.

Jake and you were playing your own game of back and forth, of testing the limits of what would tip you over the edge. You stroked his arm, brushing your finger tips over his skin until you left a trail of goosebumps despite the heat outside. Jake’s hand would rub up and down your thigh, always reaching dangerously high. You had to remind yourself to adjust your skirt constantly. He would squeeze your knee, your leg, your thigh — basically whatever he could touch and not be called out for public indecency. He let you press yourself against him, or wrap an arm around him so that you were impossibly closer and just toying with his chains to stop yourself from kissing his neck.

You were quite proud when he popped open a button from his shirt. Whether it was from the heat of the weather or the heat from his body and his desire to take you right here and there barely mattered. You were gladly surprised how he lost composure before you, so much so that he had to pull out his phone multiple times to send a short warning through text messages or to remind you that he wanted you just as bad as you wanted him.

He hid it by pretending to take a photo, but there was nothing in his camera roll that would support his alibi. Unless pictures from the previous night where he fucked you with a view of the Eiffel tower counted. You were not so sure how a blurry photo of his cum over your breasts with the twinkling monument in the background would convince anyone that you were two civilized tennis enthusiasts.

“Let’s get out of here.” You insisted as soon as the game was over and people cheered for the winner.

Jake repeated it, following you out of the section of seats. His hands were on your hips and his body pressed against yours. It looked as though he was scared to lose you amongst the sea of people — even though your VIP tickets offered you a sneaky way out. It also looked as though he was using the little friction caused by your bodies being squeezed together when someone would cut you off in the line to get some relief.

You said it again, you needed to get out of here and quick. You were not having any of the small talk from Jake’s restaurateur friends or from anyone, for that matter, who just bonded after witnessing tennis history. You wanted out. Fast.

By some strand of luck, you avoided traffic and took a car back to your hotel. You thanked the chauffeur, rushing out of the car where you had been kissing and rubbing obscenely on each other. Jake paid him generously, causing the driver to shout “Monsieur, monsieur!” as he tried to give some of the money back to your man. Only, you were already on your way towards the entrance of the hotel lobby.

You were greeted by the one of the hotel managers who spoke with a thick French accent. He talked and talked and talked, something about how the building seemed empty with most of the residents having attended the French Open. You answered with nods and smiles until you excused yourself and took the lead, dragging Jake by the arm where his silver watch and bracelet made clicking noises from all the movements.

“You’re so fucking needy for me.” Jake told you, not caring enough to lower his voice.

For a seemingly empty hotel, the elevators in front of you were occupied and smashing the buttons did not make them climb up and down faster. You noticed how Jake was fidgeting, eyes darting everywhere, as you sighed with frustration.

“Got an idea.” Jake spoke, his face buried in the crook of your neck where he busied himself by leaving as many kisses as he could in such a small amount of time — which was both a blessing and a curse. It was a blessing to feel your skin on his lips, something he wanted to do since you arrived to the world renown court.But it was a curse because it felt like he was stealing time away from what the two of you desperately wanted.

“Is it better than your bet?”

He laughed against your skin, tasting the sweat on his lips as his tongue caressed the spots he kissed hungrily. “Not at all.”

“I already love it.”

“You’re fucking perfect.” Jake smiled widely. He spotted the door that led to the stairwell and pushed you in that direction.

There were giggles that echoed in the empty room as the two of you tried to walk up a few levels of stairs. You stopped to catch your breath and, immediately, you had hands exploring your body.

Jake was pulling and gripping on the fabric of your clothes until he had your body pressed against his and your mouths connected by a deep kiss. One second, he had your face in his hands as his tongue danced around yours. The next second, his hands were groping your ass. He pinched your cheeks harshly, giving each one a loud slap that, too, echoed in the stairwell.

“We gotta wait until we’re in the suite, come on.” You lolled your head back and let him nibble on the skin of your neck and cover it with open mouthed kisses. He grunted in response. “Jake —”

“Daddy.” He corrected, earning you an even harder spank on your ass to remind you what head space to be in.

“But Daddy!” You tried to stop him, nudging at him so he would recognize the risks of you getting caught.

“I thought,” he spun you on your feet so that you were looking out the stairwell window, the busy City of Lights now before your eyes. “You said that you loved my idea, hmm?” His left hand crept up your body and lingered around your neck before he moved it up, his thumb dragged your bottom lip down. “Did you change your mind?”

“No, I —” You were interrupted again by two fingers entering your mouth.

“You what?” His right hand pressed on your tummy so that your ass would push against the bulge of his navy blue pants. “Go on.”

“I...” You struggled to speak with his fingers filling your mouth, so you mumbled your way into trying to say that you “don’t wanna get caught.”

He laughed at how pathetic you sounded and did not let you say another word. Instead he pumped his index and middle fingers in and out, fucking your mouth with a smirk on his lips. “Shh, it’s not good to lie.”

You felt him rub against your body, his bulge pressing between your ass cheeks and making the fabric of your skirt ride up.

“I know you love being watched.” Jake’s hand lowered and reached under your skirt. He leaned his chin on your shoulder and whispered to your ear. “I bet that if someone walked in, you would beg me to keep going.”

You nodded, spit drooling down his fingers and your chin as he kept fucking your mouth.

“That’s right. Such a good slut, you wanna give everyone a good show.” You opened your legs and leaned forward, giving Jake access to your core that he roughly rubbed over your soaked panties. With a quick motion, he pushed your panties to the side and pressed his hand against your slick covered pussy.

You exhaled audibly when his warm hand touched your even warmer core, suddenly all of the hours that flew by as you waited for this moment became worth it. Your hips instinctively humped his hand, soaking him up.

“Fuck yeah, suck my fingers like they’re my cock.” He grunted when you lost yourself in the moment, your eyes shut and your cheeks hollowed around his digits.

You sucked on his fingers, your head bopped back and forth to meet his thrusts and your tongue twirled around his digits. You wished it was his cock, you wished you could taste his precum on your tongue.

He slapped your pussy, you flinched and gagged around his fingers. The sound bounced back against the walls of the stairwell. “That’s my good girl.” He spanked it again. The slaps were quick, he was not even trying to make them hurt. He was just riling you up for his own viewing pleasure of watching you fall apart under his hands.

Tears leaked from your closed eyes when Jake finally pulled his fingers out of your mouth. He smeared some more of your spit over your chin as you smiled.

He moaned as you enjoyed it. He, too, enjoyed making you look so messy and pretty for him. All the expensive clothes and jewellery he gifted you could never make you look as beautiful as you did just now, and just like the countless other times he had you crying of pleasure and begging for more.

You were begging now too: for more friction on your clit, for his fingers to stretch open your dripping pussy and, even better, for his cock to fill you up.

After a bunch of other pussy slaps that made your skin tingle, Jake pulled down his pants and underwear to the middle of his thighs. He smeared the drops of precum across his tip and used his hand that was wet from your pussy to lube himself up. “I’ve been thinking of this pussy all day long.” He groaned as he spoke, brushing his tip through your wet folds.

Your legs parted even more open as you leaned on the windowsill. The two of you moaned at the same time when he pushed himself in your entrance. Your breath got stuck in your throat and the burning sensation quickly ignited your body all the way to your core.

He kept pushing, and not slowly.The desire to feel you wrapped around him paired with the urgency of being done before getting caught had Jake going faster than usual. Soon enough, your walls gripped on all of his length and he let out another loud grunt. He leaned down, the fabric of his pink shirt tickled the exposed skin of your ass. He asked you how you managed to not make a puddle at the game from how wet you were for him.

Your response only came in a long, loud moan that was interrupted by the noise of a door opening a few levels above your head.

Jake brought both of his hands to your mouth, covering it to muffle all of your noises and only let you breathe through your nose. If you both prayed hard enough, maybe the intruder would leave without catching a glimpse of the two of you.

Your bottom halves were exposed, Jake’s pelvis rested against your ass and his cock was filling you up to the brim. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt small strokes that increased in speed as the noise from upstairs faded.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Jake chuckled as he started to properly fuck you, his skin slapping on yours from his steady thrusts. “That was a close call.”

You hummed against his hands, still unable to respond.

“I felt you clenching on my cock.” He remained pressed against you and made your legs shake from both the weight of him and the weight of the pleasure that was spreading through your body. “I know you liked that.” His left hand stayed on your mouth but his left one slid down your body to meet with your slick pussy. “You like putting on a show, don’t you?”

You tried to speak the words ‘yes Daddy’ but only incoherent noises left your mouth.

His lips curled into a big smile. “That’s my good girl.”

The windowsill created indents on the skin of your arms from how much you relied on it to hold you up. You even struggled to keep your head up to look at the blurry views of the Eiffel tower and historical buildings. With Jake’s sharp and fast thrusts that kept pushing you forward and making your head bop like a silly toy and with his hand that roughly rubbed your clit from left to right, you were getting dizzy.

It took no time for Jake to get close, and for you to notice it too. His grunts were low and he breathed heavily behind you. He, too, was mumbling nonsense to rile the two of you up and take you over the edge. Praises about how you were “so fucking wet” and how “your pussy was made for this cock” resonated in the room until he stopped his thrusts for good. He focused on you.

He rubbed your clit in tight circles at the perfect speed. He let you clench on his cock and moan at the feeling of him inside you. The noises coming out of your mouth let him know he was doing everything right. He pushed the index and middle fingers of the hand that was trying — and failing — to keep you quiet in your mouth to prevent you from alerting the whole building.

“That’s it baby, give it to me.” With a few more seconds of your slick walls clenching around him, he shot his load inside of you. At that very moment, Jake was the one who needed to be gagged so he was not so loud. Ropes of cum filled you up and the grip of your pussy on him only made his cock throb more.

But you loved his noises, and you loved the way he made those waves of pleasure wash over your body as you came not long after him. Your orgasm made you dizzier than what it took to get you there. One by one, your thoughts started to come back to you and you put the puzzle pieces together. You almost got caught. There was no way you could hang out in the stairwell and take it for a second round without getting caught. Your ears started to buzz at the idea and when you tried to tell Jake that it was time to hurry up, he pulled out.

“Shit,” He ignored your whining about the sudden emptiness and adjusted your panties quickly. “Act normal.” Jake told you, the stern tone of his voice did not pair well with the sight you caught of his face that looked as fucked out as yours.

You flattened your skirt in confusion as Jake fixed the rest of his clothes. You finally realized what had caused such havoc: other people had entered the stairwell and were walking downstairs, in your direction. There was no way you would pass off as someone who acted normal in the slightest. You had spit, sweat and tears on your face and your weak knees made it incredibly hard to stand still. Even while holding on Jake’s arm and leaning on him, you were shaking like the branches of the trees outside. That breeze would have been more than welcome while you sat outside during the tennis game.

Jake laughed quietly at your pathetic attempts and, when the people finally walked besides you to go to the lower staircases, he helped you out by planting a kiss on your lips. He avoided the possibility of small talk and he also turned your brains into complete mush. That was the smartest idea he had all day.

It did not last for long. At the second the strangers were out of sight, Jake’s hand slid between your closed legs to cup your pussy over your panties. Sure enough, they were soaked and so were your inner thighs. Your felt him smile against your lips before he broke the kiss.

“Those panties are completely useless.” He stated the obvious with a light shrug. He reached both of his hands between your legs and pulled hard enough on the wet fabric to tear it apart so he could take it off for you. “You look so pretty for me, dripping with my cum like that.”

You watched him with your jaw dropped and glossy eyes while he put the ruined lingerie in the pocket of his pink shirt. The wetness would soak through it too, but you doubted that he cared much about that detail.

He grabbed your hand, his fingers still sticky from touching your panties. “Come on, baby. We’ll order some room service.” He pulled you along until you found the closest exit out of the stairwell. Neither of you were capable of using the stairs, at least not for their intended purpose. “Wanna bet on something else?” He ignored the way you shook your head in disapproval of whatever idea had popped above his head like a cartoon light bulb. “I bet that my cum will still be dripping out of you by the time we make it up to our room.”

You awkwardly walked with your legs closed and avoided looking at anything except Jake and the elevator you were headed towards. “And I bet it will have dripped down my legs.” You whispered when you got in the elevator. Much to your dismay, you were not alone.

Jake seemed content with your reply and, before pressing a kiss on your temple, he added a counteroffer to his bet. “In that case, I’ll have to add more where it came from. I need a new lock screen anyway so I’ll take a few photos of how beautiful my baby looks.”

#jake gyllenhaal smut #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal x you #jake gyllenhaal

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hellsite-detective · 5 months

Note

Hi!! Sorry if you've already found this, but could you maybe look for the original Throckmorton post?

trackin' this one was rather easy. i had to go to the Search Bar and ask for "tumblr throckmorton," from which i got a screenshot. after that, i searched through every blog mentioned but couldn't find the exact version of the post i was lookin' for. so, i went back to Google and asked for the post INCLUDIN' the reblog from the final person in the chain. i was handed what i wanted instantly. i went and filed that away.

but i wasn't done. see, this is another one of those posts where it's reliant on a screenshot from twitter. so, just to be thorough, i took a little road trip from Tumblr City and went on over to Twitter City. on my drive over, i passed a sign that used to read "Now Entering: Twitter." someone had spraypainted a big letter "X" over the name of the city. the skyline, that once shined a beautiful sky blue, now only reflected darkness back. enterin' the city, i noticed the distinct lack of any birds chirping. no calming tweets remained. i heard the new mayor wasn't doin' too great. but thankfully i didn't have to stay long, as i found the post rather quickly there too.

here's your posts! another two for one special! have a great day!

Post Case: Closed

#enjoy this double post!#throckmorton #ask #hellsite detective #post case closed

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xsapphirescrollsx · 9 months

Text

Mesquite Grove

Written: Sep 10 2020

Dark!Syverson x Black Reader

Also this is post is pic heavy. I really just mood boarded a lot to keep me going while I wrote. I modeled the cabin in this story of off Sky Notch. I hope it’s not to much lol and that you enjoy it. Thanks for reading and reblogging!

Autumn sits all around you. Monday, seven a.m and the town is quiet except for a few rushing cars on the highway just off from the store you now occupied. The colors of deep red and orange are dull in the morning haze but it signals change nonetheless. It felt good, for you too were experiencing another season in your life. A new town, another chance to start over. It would have been frightening if you didn’t know that without this, your life might have gone another direction.

You stood there in the doorway, hand on the knob as you opened it completely and pushed a big heavy basketball sized stone at the bottom corner. The cold nipped around your neck and you rushed back. And you waited, a lone dot slowly being enveloped in the heavy fog. This dense cloudy layer covers the town, the trees, the homes, your store and the one across the street.

It was beer delivery day at the liquor store and your turn of the month to stand here and take count of intake. With the door open, behind you pale light from within poured around your body as you stood in the frame. You were one leg out, it was too cold to stand completely in the weather so you stayed half in with the warmth. While watching the truck slowly roll in front of the door and then back in, you took stock of this new you. A year ago, a quiet life seemed so far away, there was a time you enjoyed the sounds of a city that never sleeps and the pace the people moved at. But here, standing in the presence of the singular sound of a truck engine it seemed peaceful.

The truck halted a few feet from the door, tail first, its lights ghostly in the fog and exhaust. You shifted to bat away the puffs of white, it doesn’t last long before a gentle frigid wind carries it off for a moment in another direction. And then there was silence once again with the cutting of the truck’s engine.

For a moment raised voices from the head of the truck mumble over the cracking of gravel. Laughter, low and sardonic of sorts was louder as two men exited. Their stomping upon small pebbles broke the eerie morning time quietness. The first man you saw, a regular on this route greeted you with a wave. Dave, shorter than you but stout in his shoulders and frame offered a smile.

“Hey, long time no see!” he said. You smile as best you can muster for this time of day and pull the clipboard from under your arm. “Haven’t seen you in a few weeks.” he added.

“The four of us take turns. Today was my day..”you said quietly.

“‘Gotta a new helper today.” said Dave, now standing in front of you. He handed a long slip of paper, a receipt of the day's products to be delivered.

“Well, I’m glad,--” Your words and attention are pulled by the sound of a racket coming from the truck. Loud and cumbersome, it was unusual for normally Dave would have slid it more gently. But your eyes landed on the back of Dave’s helper. He had slammed the platform that was hooked on to the door to the ground. The chains on either side still shook slightly from the action.

“--it’ll go faster this time at least.” you said finally and returned to your list.

The sliding of the truck’s cargo door jarred you again.

“Easy.” instructed Dave. “You break this shit we have to go back to the city for another truck.”

Once again you look up to see the man hop from the bed of the truck down to the platform. You didn’t look long. The man was already staring at you from under the rim of his dingy baseball cap. He was bulky and heavy with his footsteps as he strode the short distance to you. What you did see of him, he was large with broad shoulders and a frame built for hard labor you supposed.

“Nice to meet ya,” he said in a smooth voice. It was surprisingly light, and pleasant despite the rugged thick beard that nearly hid his lips.

A greet worth grin, short and tight unfolded upon your lips as you spoke. “Dave’ll show you were to go.”

“You aren’t even going to ask me my name?” asked the man, his smile when bigger as did the delight in his eyes. He slapped the back of his hand on Dave’s shoulder. “I thought you said the folks at The Corner Store were friendly?”

Your eyes bounced from the man to Dave who looked noticeably uncomfortable, but still managed a grin and a shrug.

The man turned back to you, his white teeth shiny in the light from behind you. “I’m Sy.”

“Okay?”

The sarcasm hung between the rushing sound of a car and the shuffling of Dave’s feet. You rolled your eyes back to Dave. “Anything new on the list?” you asked, ignoring Sy as he walked back to the truck.

An hour in and nearly done, Sy follows you through the first trailer lined with a variety of hot beer, winding to the next right entry way he continued to follow you through the second trailer. Once again, this one too held more warm cases of beer. Down the ramp at the end of the trailer he followed you into the main part of the store, fit for retail and held a large selection of spirits and wines in this section. He followed you still passed the counter toward the large fridge where shoppers could browse the sections of glass doors. But that wasn’t the destination. Instead you walked to the end, opened the door, a muscle reflex really, you held the door open for him as he entered too. Cold, though it felt warmer than outside, and packed and stacked into half rows with more selections of beer he followed behind you at the end. Shelving lined the end of the rectangular space, and underneath that was where he was to stack his cargo.

“You’re new here.”

You didn’t bother to turn around, “What gave it away?” you asked.

Sy lightly half scoffed and laughed. “Well this is my hometown. I know everybody here and you’re definitely not a local.”

Not easily swayed by casual conversation you ignored him. But his presence, the largeness of his body is equal to the energy he silently emits. That can’t be pushed aside. Sy waits while you move to the back row and pick up the last flat case of canned ale and place on the stack behind you. With a finger you gesture to that corner and he squeezes between the metal shelves with beer waiting for customers and the stacks of cases on the dolly. From on top of the beer he pushed in he grabbed for five flats of canned spirits and approached you in the corner. Within this space it was incredibly small to begin with. But with him, his broad shoulders and height you quickly become uncomfortable with not having a way out.

He bent over and slammed the cases into the empty spot. He performed this action twice more until he carried the last of it to this area. And then at last, standing in front of you close enough to smell whatever soap he used that morning he reached for the cold case you placed on top of the other beer. He smiled at you, a grin mostly, one you would see from another who had familiarity with the other person.

When he stood, his chest was inches from you. Parts you thought were atrophied spark to life, it had been years since you were this close to a man. The pieces fired up, your skin first, smooth turned bumpy though you blamed the cold and ignored it mostly because then your heart beat harder. Besides the whoosh of the refrigerator unit suspended behind you it was all you could hear in this moment. Sy titled his head slightly with his eyes gliding down from your chest to waist and perhaps further still you were sure. Immediately put off you turned toward the door, it felt so far away now, relief from this weight of him seemed hours away.

“I have to cut a check,” you mumbled and hoped it sounded plausible, it was the truth after all.

Without turning back a short gasp hissed across the sound of the fan. Sy was doubly close, his chest and stomach bumped into yours. Head still turned a bit and you cut your eyes back at him. He was focused on your neck, he leaned in closer and his beard brushed across the skin of your neck as his fingers dug the high collar coat away. You stepped back, well tried - there was no room to step, instead you teetered back against the wood wall, one hand grasped the cases to your right the other placed on his shoulder.

“What-” you asked but then heard a loud sniffing sound from him.

Instantly the chills upon your arms moved up through your shoulders and fizzled all the way down the sides of your spine. He dragged his nose up through your hairline at the back of your neck. A breathy whimper later, your body felt light, yielding at something you hadn’t had in a very long time - connection. Titling your head up at the feeling of small shudders coursing down your back, the feeling was inescapable, untamed and raw.

And then it ended. Sy stepped back, his light eyes dark now stared back at you with something that you recognized as a man starved. He blinked and took off his cap, ran a hand through wild curls and replaced his cap. You stayed there unable to wholly accept what just happened but also, those pieces of you missed whatever that was.

“Sorry about that - I couldn’t resist any longer.”

You wanted to ask the question; resist what? The impropriety begged for argument, to yell and tell him off about crossing your boundaries as men were often want to do. But then you remembered where he stood, where you were too and how many things between you and the door there were.

Adjusting the neck of your jacket your eyes wandered back to the door. “No worries,” you said.

Sy nodded with a smile emerging from his beard. The parts of you separated again, once again in their scattered places you frown at him. “Are you done? Can you get the fuck out of my way?”

Sy stepped aside with his back against the shelving and the other cases of beer underneath it. Internally you scream at the lack of space he offered you but took it anyway. Quickly you step forward, keep your body pressed against the opposite side column of beer and can only manage to brush your arm across his chest as you pass.

You didn’t bother to look back once around the last stack, you strode down the rows of beer hearing the clanging of the dolly behind. No door holding either as you walk out of the fridge door and to the register counter. It wasn’t until you were back behind there and near a phone did you feel normal again. In this dingy old liquor store, at least here with packs of cigarettes and brown spirits did you feel safe.

Halfway through your work week you awoke to the shrill crowing of a rooster. Scrunched up on the side of your full bed your eyes cracked open to the pale morning light bleeding through your curtains. It crooned again and you blinked, brows pushed together as your eyes shot to the fabric slowly moving with the wind from the ceiling fan.

You grabbed your phone on the end table, checked the time: 6:14 a.m.

Shuffling on the other side of the window and the waggle of chicken noises was followed by another crow, this time the thing had to be directly in front of the window.

“God damnit.”

While you enjoyed this house, this space you created into your own vision of a singular life you felt bothered. In the past this sort of interruption in sleep either by sounds of the city or fighting from an adjoining apartment, or even the people you shared the apartment with would have been met with lukewarm animosity. But here, in this home, as you rose from the bed with little more than a shirt on, this chicken with his cawing and carrying on, you thought he might have made a better sandwich than a living thing.

You jerked open the front door and in a flurry of wings and feathers about a half dozen chicken hysterically flapped and scattered. They ran further when you dashed toward them with raised hands motioning them to flee.

At the end of the porch the last chicken jumped over the railing and out into your yard. Wind from your left, the north gusted around your bare legs and up under your thin shirt. Before you began to turn and go back to the warmth of your bed something caught your eye. From your house within the valley, rising upon a crest of a hill a white tin roof gleamed as the rising sun touched it.

You would admit there was never really any concern to know the neighbors. Other than your house, this home about a mile away on the tall mound was the only house to be seen for miles. You still hadn’t met them officially, if people even did that around here.

But their land stretched for as far as your eye could see. Marked by barbed wire fencing and metal stakes coming as close as maybe ten feet from what would be your land. But unlike your side of the fence, which was mowed before the beginning of fall, their grass grew tall and wild, the cedar and mesquite trees were thick, the cactus patches unattended as well.

Besides this morning chicken fiasco, you hadn’t even seen the neighbors. It made you think, just a jolt really that broke up the fuzziness of groggy thoughts, that perhaps the people who lived there did not want to be seen.

Saturdays were never easy, unlike the rest of the work week this day was met with constant customers as opposed to the lazy walkin’s of a Friday night. The liquor store would be closed on Sunday, so the rush to get the drinks for the weekend shook more people lose to come and get their selections. Also, to the side of the store, the park was filled and in the evening was lit up brightly with lights. This was different. Normally it was dark with zero cars or people. Whatever was happening brought even more people in than usual.

Your co-worker, Hyacinth, short and blond went by Cindy mostly, rushed from behind the counter to open the beer cooler for you. As typical, you were the beer roller tonight. Laden down with a variety of beer you rolled it passed the counter where Adeline still stood helping customers make their final purchases.

“I got it!” called Cindy.

“My back is killing me,” you whispered as you rolled past her.

A constant complainer, and as predicted she issued back her own set of ailments. “Well try standing behind the counter constantly after you stumped your toe this morning.”

She said it frankly, as if you had no idea what pain was or could not possibly understand. You rolled your eyes back in front of you and walked through the open door while Cindy followed in behind you.

“And I got sick this morning,”

“Stop drinking.” your voice rose up a bit louder over the roar of the fans.

“I wasn't! I just woke up crappy is all. Ugh, this thing with Rex. Did you know he still sends me money? After all this time! He makes me so frustrated, plus I hit my toe on the brass leg of my chair. I nearly snapped it off! It’s torture standing back there.”

“Oh, must be really crappy to get money you never asked for once a month.”

You sat the dolly down and grabbed the first case on top. “Geeze, I would totally hate getting money...just handed to me..” your voice drew out in a sarcastic tone.

Cindy rolled her eyes back at you. “He still wants me to come to Sunday dinners at Olive’s.”

“Well he always did love his mammy,” you couldn’t help but to giggle at her expression.

“She doesn’t love me, she lets me still work here and all that but...fuck she doesn’t make it easy.”

You didn’t have time to respond before Adie appeared with her face stuck in through a crack at the door.

“Twenty guys just walked in -” she said, her voice quiet but begging too.

Cindy waved her off and walked out. Even over the fans you could hear the high spirited laughter and deep voices, the open and shutting of the front cooler doors, the clink of six packs clanking out the windows. And immediately you were happy that there was only thirty minutes left before closing time.

Products got stacked in their predestined places with little thought. Your mind was far away from this place. There was always the tendency to drift into a daydream at the moment the monotony of everyday life became stagnant. Somewhere on the high seas, the hero of your own story where money and time meant little, where you made the rules, and felt satisfied.

You continued to dream as you walked out of the cooler, dolly in hand, eyes straight forward as they moved to places on the shelves that needed a bottle or two replaced. You paid little mind to the men there, who spoke softly with the beat of music across the street humming through the liquor store walls.

Weaving around them with the dolly, you hardly notice their eyes casually glancing at your body as you pass them by. It was like any other Saturday, the men included with their minuscule unprovoked attention. Their movements within the store are meaningless, your mind was set on the last fifteen minutes until closing. That bottle of clear rum called to you like the couch, like the bag of chips in your pantry and the show you had been putting off to catch up on all week. You were ready to just be off.

The dolly and you pause near the front door where the bags of ice laid within the stand up freezer. You opened the door, palmed the frozen cubes through the plastic and decided with the cooler weather you wouldn’t have to bag anymore tonight.

Cindy said your name over the top of the men passing comments back and forth to each other.

“I’m nearly done. I’m locking the back door.” you shouted over your shoulder and began to take off again, dolly in tow toward the second part of the store. Wine bottles stuffed together on rickety shelves clinked with the vibration of the music.

“Okay but that’s not what I was talking about- Come here.”

You kept going with the dolly. “I’ll be right back!”

So you rolled it back there, just inside the first trailer and walked back. Finally you take the time to look at the faces of the four or five men on the other side of the counter. One of them was Sy. And you stopped short of coming into the main part of the store.

“Hey! They are having a party up on the hill!” said Cindy excitedly.

Her giddiness elicits a smile from you. But it was short lived as Sy turned from the counter as you took a few steps near. His large body leaned on his right arm on top of the counter, he stretched out a leg and his other hand held his wrist. A lazy stance but one with purpose that said he was open to friendly banter.

“A gathering of sorts. The boys have returned.” Sy added.

“Boys? From college?” you assumed, it was fall after all, maybe the semester was over and these boys were younger cousins.

Adie at the other register next to Cindy laughed. Another one of the men was leaned completely over on his crossed arms looking at Adie. But she was looking at you. “No it’s the -”

“It’sa time for family to return home.” said Sy. “Usually the men take off ‘til they’re late thirties, they come back, help out with the land, home life and settle down.”

“Are ya’ll..is this a religious thing?” you asked.

Most of them laughed, even the men down by the beer, but not you or Cindy. Sy only smiled.

“Nah, it’s more like a reunion.”

Cindy crossed her arms over her chest, a few fingers played with the ends of her hair. “Hey you still got that bottle at home? Maybe you and I can catch up on that show and drink at your place!” asked Cindy.

Still thinking about their laughter, maybe it was an inside joke you weren’t privy too. But Cindy’s sudden shift from barely contained excitement to attempting to trash the idea all together grated your nerves. “I thought you were trying to go to this?”

“We can do something else. I got my toe to think about.”

At the mention of Cindy’s stupid toe your eyes went back to Sy.

“After we shut down, we’ll start over there...where is it?”

The car radio mumbled a tune under Cindy’s constant talking.

“I can’t believe you didn’t know Sy was your neighbor.”

“I’m not nosey.” you threw in, keeping your eyes on the gravel road only illuminated by the headlights of your car.

You do your best to concentrate on the road. But in the pitch black your mind makes shadows in the spaces between bare mesquite trees, vines creeping over the fences that line either side of the gravel back road. Your eyes sweep back and forth for sleek bodies of deer that would dare dart out. It doesn’t matter that you are driving the forty mile an hour speed, you were careful every time you drove this way to go home.

And as you passed the dirt driveway to your home an ache sets in. The kind that wants to be in your own environment with your own things. You even glance back through the driver side window, checking for the front porch light and wondering if the house missed you too.

“I don’t want to see Rex. But I know he’ll be there.” Cindy’s whining cut into your thoughts.

“Then stay away from him.”

“I can try but he won’t listen.” she added, once again usurping another opinion.

Before you know it Cindy was waving her hand to the left. “It’s right there, the turn in - with those big wooden gates.”

It was open as you turned on to the driveway, though not much better than the actual road. Passing through them, they curved over the wide path, carved into them looked like animals, dogs maybe you weren’t sure.

“Are they rich?”

Cindy unbuckled her seat belt and popped down the viser, flipped open the mirror and squinted when the light hit her eyes. “Ya.” she said, running a finger underneath her eyelid. “They all are.”

You drove further, even here the sides of the driveway were just as wild as the road you had turned off of. Though the gravel seemed sparse and gave way to the reddish orange dirt known for this area. Soon you were much closer in a short amount of time, you could see the house - if one could call it that. What you could see from your house was deceiving. That white house, looking now, was merely a metal garage. The mansion was large, spacious, across the land with timber embedded length wise to wooden planks running long. A cabin? A huge cabin fit for at least twenty or more people. And the cars that lined in front and down the driveway could certainly accommodate just that.

“Oh ya they are rich, god damn.” you whispered and pulled off near the garage.

You drove to the nearest light, half way between the garage and this big house. But as you came closer it wasn’t electrical, it was a torch made of a stack of stones topped with flames. Your eyes moved past Cindy who was still adjusting her hair and makeup to the house, all the lights outside were made of fire.

“An upclass kegger?” you laughed and put the car in park.

“No they aren’t stuck up like that. Really, they seemed to be good people.” Cindy started to say something else but shrugged.

She looked at you, “Ready?”

You sighed and resided yourself to just get it over with. Walking toward the house, you did feel a bit better, now that the drive was over you could look forward to an exit.

Cindy walked ahead of you, grateful to let her take the lead you let her. And she walked straight for the large front doors with more dogs carved into the dark wood. Suddenly you were aware of the air around you, it was different from the natural smell down by your house. It smelled of the flora you walked through, even the timber that made up the house. Which only seemed to blend into the trees around it, even the front door was flanked by two small trees, stripped down to bare wood and made to be part of the architecture.

She didn’t even have to open it, before you realized what was happening a woman popped out. Tall, with long brown hair was throwing her arms around Cindy’s neck. She pulled her into the house with you trailing behind.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” shouted the woman. “Rex!!” she yelled again as you shut the door behind you.

The woman turned back over her shoulder toward you, “You brought a friend! Please make yourself at home!” The woman let go of Cindy and opened another set of doors set into thick wood. Past the glass on either side of them movement could be seen. She pushed them in and stepped into a stone and wood foyer. You continued to follow but quickly your eyes were pulled into this grand living room the likes you had never seen. It stopped you.

Your eyes were drawn to the large wooden columns of logs that gave way to an open layout that seemed to stretch to the sky peaking through a large window on the ceiling. Further in, the second story could be seen resting on more logs but that wasn't the focal point. Among the wood, and branches stood a rock at least twelve feet tall, carved in such a way it almost looked like the outside of a den or cave. Men sat around it upon cushions of leather or fur in deep conversation and acted like they didn’t even see you. So your eyes moved from then to the lip of this rocky monument where sat a clay bowl, burning with a fire within it.

“What the fuck is this place…” you whispered.

“The drinks are over there,” called the woman. She was far away, at the entryway of another room just off from this rock. She gestured into the room she and Cindy walked into. But you were still gazing, amazed even because beyond this rock were a row of double glass doors, swung open with soft music being played outside.

Cindy called your name, finally you walked over to join her in what looked to be another sitting room but it was so much more than that, you just couldn’t name it. Wood followed into this room too, and stone. There were people in here as well, some crowded around a large bowl full of something blue.

Cindy dipped a glass ladle into, poured it into a glass and then handed it to you. She did the same for herself, but before you could really ask her anything a bellowing hoot came from behind you.

A man with dark hair came walking fast toward you, but glancing at Cindy, her face pale mouth open in a gasp took a step back. The man she did not want to see, Rex.

More people turned, some laughed and others nodded in his direction as he closed in on Cindy.

“Hey I’m going out there, if you need me. That’s where I’ll be okay.” you said softly.

Cindy only nodded and then at once Rex grabbed her in a hug. That was your mark to leave, and you did so happily.

You followed the sound of deep crooning vocals from beyond the row of doors. More people, perhaps the last addition to the silent count in your head made for thirty people in total you had seen were sat around. Again, square cushions lined the rails of the balcony, dotted out from there encircled a man with the black satin sky as a backdrop behind him.

It felt communal in nature, some shit you might have seen on television about cults and how they huddle together, think the same, do the same. But as you observed their faces, they listened to the music, though spoke to whoever was near them. It seemed benign. Though this was the middle of nowhere, Texas, what use would have a home like this? Who lived here?

You gazed at the man for a moment as you moved to the other end of the balcony. It seemed bigger than your own home with its little two bedrooms, and small living room. And it certainly did not have a view like this. In the dark, it wasn’t truly vast blackness, stars peppered the sky like fireflies, the nearly full moon cast a pale pearly light upon the land.

“See anything you like?” said a voice from behind you.

Sy was there, drink in hand and a friendly toothless smile. He cleaned up, he didn’t smell like the smoke from the pits at the park any longer, the cap he had on was gone and dark hair bundled in loose curls around his ears and neck.

“It’s beautiful here.”

Sy’s eyes moved from you to the scene over your shoulder. He nodded knowingly, his jaw tightened and sagged, like he was biting down on a thought and then blinked back at you.

“Not as beautiful as you.”

You were unamused and it showed across your face. Sy’s expression grew serious, simply staring at you before taking a drink.

Sy stepped closer to your left and stood near, he smacked his lips. “You’ll get used to it.” he said and turned his head toward you.

“Used to what? Was that a flirt?” you asked, finally beating back embarrassment you turned your body and leaned against the balcony.

“I’m not great at flirting.” Sy dipped in close, looking into your eyes, and spoke softly, “I call them like I see them.”

He stood straight again, “So how long have you been in our small town?”

The song changed, a few people called out requests before the man started singing again. You watched the people, buying time before you decided upon an answer.

“I’ve been here for about 5 months now.”

“Did it take you long to find a place?” he quickly asked back. “Not like there’s a lot to pick from.”

“Actually, I’m buying the land right down the road from here. The price was right.”

“The Grove house. I know it.”

“Yeah?”

“It used to be a part of this land, the caretaker’s house, but a few generations back we let them buy it from the family. Everything okay with the house?”

“It’s a great home. I didn’t have to do much to it. But there’s a dead tree stump at the far corner of the house.”

“I’ll come by tomorrow.”

You shook your head like you were trying to throw off his good offer. This was all so strange, the house, this land, the feeling in your gut and now this.

You finished the drink off, spilled some of it down your chin as you quickly tried to deflate his offer.

“No, no--that’s not necessary.”

“Hey we’re neighbors now. I’m home, I want to help you.”

You wanted to say no one more time but your voice loses its intensity with the sound of a woman yelling. Cursing, Cindy strode past the doors, her eyes roaming the dark and then stopping on people and looking some more before she finally landed on you.

Quickly she walked over to you, held your arms and ignored Sy complete. “Please, can you take me home.” her voice cracked.

“What’s going on?”

“Can you?”

You looked over to Sy, he was eyeing Cindy before he turned his eyes back toward the house. Shouting, low and growing louder you shifted back to Cindy. She was still looking at you, concern settled into her stance as she grew rigid, and stared right into your eyes.

You sighed, “Okay. Fine, let's go home. I’ll take you first.”

Sunday was bright, warmer than usual, but then again it was Texas, the weather seemed to have its own mind. And today it was sunny, with the heat from the sun beating out the cool wind. It made for a pleasant late morning, you weren’t even hung over. The ride back to Cindy’s was quiet, she hardly spoke - not like her. While her silence was worrisome you assumed it was some sort of lovers concern.

The tree in the back had to be dealt with. You figured a few hours of digging around it would yield results. And while it did you were nowhere near getting the four foot wide trunk out of the ground. Squatting down near a deep exposed root, you swung your hatchet, splitting the wood and chipping away at the foundation.

You were sweaty, and tired of using energy best spent making food and sitting in front of the television. Laying the hatchet down you grab a rope and knot it on the end of the cut root. You tugged hard, nothing.

A rumble of a truck pulling up into your driveway didn’t sway your efforts. Planting your feet you hunched over and pulled back harder. It gave a little that time. When you tried to pull again, a pair of gloved hands wrapped around the rope in front of your grip.

It was Sy.

He smiled while plucking at the rope, “Let’s give it a tug.”

His thick arms rubbed against yours, he fixed his stance closer but wider and his thighs brushed against your as the rope wrenched back. He grunts hard, “One more time,”and with another jerk the root comes completely loose from the trunk.

Sy released it and you turned toward him. He was grinning down at the stump, white cotton shirt straining around his large arms with his fingers in the jean loops. “Looks like you’ve done a good job of getting it to surface. I bet I can pop it out for good.”

He backed up his black trunk and made easy work of wrapping a chain around what was sticking out of the ground. You stood near the front of the house and observed him gassing the engine. Within a few minutes the stump cracked as it fell forward in the direction he pulled broken roots and all.

“Thank you!” you said cheerfully. Jumping from the porch you saw Sy lean over into the bed of his truck and retrieve a gas saw. You watched him cut the stump down into slices. You wanted to help afterwards, you even tried to lift one but they had to be at least a hundred pound each.

“I got it.” and without another word, and to your amazement, Sy squatted down and grabbed a piece. He walked a few feet with it, his arms wrapped around the part of the circumference and placed it in the bed.

“If you’re up for a cookless night we are having a family dinner up at the house. Do you want to go get ready?” Sy walked back to you near the wood and grabbed for another piece.

“Right now?”

He lifted it, “Ya. Go wash off or whatever it is beautiful women do. I’ll wait.”

It was evening, the sun was setting when you stepped out of Sy’s truck. Gone was the warm weather in its place mist or fog seemed to grow from the spaces between the trees trunks and branches. Somehow the natural world mimics how you feel inside. There are shadows within you too, hidden by the mists of memories, light displaced by ghostly uncaring hands from the past. You look over to Sy, back straight, head lifted he walks like a leader. And when he turns to you, his eyes blazing some of the haze within you disperses.

Even with his silent acknowledgment that this was the beginning of something new. The lines of cars aren’t ignored.

“Family dinner,huh?” you asked in jest, though left it open for him to explain further.

Sy nodded, a whisper of a smile tugged at the end of his mouth and you suspected the expression was mischievous but you don’t know why he needed to be.

Up the stone steps again, the outside ornate door was wide open though the one behind it was not. He walked forward, pushed it and let you walk in first. It smelled wonderful, food of some sort, meat and the fragrance of leather and wood met you.

The grandness of the living room was even more so in the evening light. The feeling of being within a tree, or a cave did not go unnoticed. Sy grabbed your hand, surprised by this subtle gesture you allowed him to hold you, guide you toward a room that was closed the night before. The distant hum of voices grew louder once he opened the door. You wanted to stop and take in the space, the living room was but a glimpse-- this room was for kings.

The entire space was timber walls, stone flooring with three low-height long tables running horizontal in this great rectangle of carpentry. The furthest wall was lined with large windows which offered the view of the tree country valley and everything of god’s creation. Bowls of food, trays of hot delights steamed up into the air looking like smoke in the dying light. The people surrounding the tables, had to be at least a dozen each. And Sy continued to walk along the side he came to the head of the first table, and nodded to those who waved at him. Their voices hushed with his approach to the middle table, he brought you to the second empty seat where you sat on the leather cushion. He took his place at the head, eyes wide at the selection, the prestige of this room you looked to him confused.

“The pack is back together!” called Sy. And at once the room bellowed with hoots and howls.

“In a few short hours we will celebrate the beginnings of a new generation!”

Another round of hollering and calling waved across the crowd. “Eat!” announced Sy. And with that the yelling died down and the clutter of silverware filled the hall.

You stared at the fried chicken mounded up in a tray, and then to the more than rare steak to the left. A heap of corn on the cob with a tiny bowl of butter was quickly taken and passed across the table.

You turned to Sy, he had already filled his plate with what looked like brisket, a few ribs and yellow potato salad.

“What are you celebrating?” you asked, and without looking up he spoke while chewing.

“The return,” he shrugged and grabbed a rib and began to eat again.

Not wanting to stick out, quickly you filled your plate with whatever was close and took small bites while glancing down the table and around the room.

Cindy wasn’t too far away. Surprised because of yesterday's turn of events, you waved, and she returned it with an ecstatic smile. She leaned in next to Rex who gnawed on a chicken leg. Your eyes moved from her with a bite of a roll, to the carving on the wall behind Sy.

The scene depicted there seemed to flow from one transition to the other. First a man, walking through trees, and then he knelt before a great dog. “Who made that?” you asked and took a sip of ice cold sweet iced tea.

Sy looked over his shoulder, he grabbed a rag and whipped his mouth and beard. “It’s a family heirloom.” said Olive who sat across the table next to Rex.

“It’s over two hundred years old. It was one of the first things created here.” added Sy.

Your eyes turned back to the raised carving. “This house is that old?”

“Older really.” chimed in Olive.

“This homestead is a testament to family, loyalty, and resilience.”said another, a woman. The same tall brunette from the previous night.

“So..this is a reunion hall or something?”

Sy shook his head. “This is my home. And also the place our pa-family meets. It sits on three hundred acres of protected land. Throughout there are other homes, not as big --for families who return. Generational homes..passed down.”

“Like my house?” you asked.

“No, that was a gift to the caretaker. His loyalty was never seen of his kind before. It’s a shame he passed away and his family let that land go.” said Olive.

“It’s in good hands now.” added Sy, who picked up the pitcher of tea and refilled your glass.

Your attention laid upon the faces of strangers eating. “These people are your family?”

Sy sat the pitcher down, “Might as well be.”

Confusion spread across your face, “I’m sorry but,” you put your fork down and looked at Sy. “Okay, these people aren’t your family? But this is a family home?” You looked behind you searching for older faces besides Olive and found none. “What about your parents? Do you have siblings?”

Some of the noise lowered with your secession of questions. Maybe you hit a nerve, but there were other women who looked to you as well. “Ya, I came with Jack,” the tiny young woman nudged the man’s ribs to her left. “So many secrets,” she giggled.

Sy cleared his throat before he spoke. “My parents were killed when I was about twelve. I was raised by Olive. This home belonged to my mother and the land to those who resided here.”

“But why?”

“It was originally a colony.”

“Oh,” you supposed that made sense for the times. But in today’s world...you weren’t sure, strange.

Dinner ended with the men and their dates leaving the hall. Though you did see a few women and men stay behind to clean. You walked next to Sy, out of the rows of double doors to the balcony. At the right stairs looking like they were unfinished from a whole piece of a tree. You followed him down them, winding along the edge of the balcony the stone column holding it up to the bottom.

The only patch of treeless land was not far from the home. Out there night had descended into the orange moon slowly rising into the sky. Your eye was drawn to an equally fiery color of flames licking the cool night air.

“What a pretty full moon!” a woman’s voice said softly from the crowd.

“Not quite,” said Sy.

You were standing next to him, watching him gaze at the fire. It cracked and spit sparks near you before he began to speak once again.

“This is a special night.” he lifted his head and spoke loudly toward the people and you. “A homecoming.”

Sy’s fingers pulled at the hem of his shirt and yanked it over his head and then junked it into the fire. You stepped back and looked at the faces of the men. They did the same, each one, to the shock of the partner standing next to them.

From the dark a woman approached, gray hair, wrinkled heavily around her eyes and mouth. She carried a stone bowl the same color as the long thick dress she wore.

Oh shit.

“This is a cult.” you whispered and took another step back. Sy pulled you back by your wrist.

He mumbled at first, you thought he was speaking again but you didn’t understand the words. They seemed to rhyme and flow in the same pattern, like a chant.

Your attention was back on the woman, she drank long from the bowl, she stepped to the edge of the fire, something within you felt danger that if she stood any closer her dress would catch fire.

Her saggy cheeks were full, she leaned back and spit the liquid into the fire. The burst hit the flames, a scream from within the crowd crawled up from the howls from the men. The area was blanketed in smoke and sparks. The thick charred hot mist forced its way into your nose and down your throat. You tried to run but Sy now held you from the back. Craving fresh air you sucked in and gulped down any that was available.

“What is this!” You yelled through a scream that tasted of blood.

“The beginning.” he whispered into your ear.

Your legs buckled and Sy allowed you to hit the hard dead grass.

The smoke parted, maybe your eyes deceived you but the woman there, the smoke trailed into their mouths and nose.

“You lovely ladies might be wondering what all this means.” his voice was low, thick with a delightful litany. His eyes were wide as he stared at each one. “Well, for us it’s about family, always has been. And for you, tonight, it’s the start of the rest of your life.”

Sy began to pace half way around the fire and then back to you. He shoved a thumb into his chest, “I’m the Alpha prime in these parts, and this here is my pack. They’ve brought you here tonight, they have chosen you.”

From your place on the ground, through the yellow tops of flames, Sy turned his eyes to you. “I have chosen you.”

At the sting of his words you fell back and twisted with pain. Something hard and beating thumped through your chest and traveled down your muscles to your belly. As soon as the wave crested you scrambled away from the deafening screams of women behind you. Trampling through the grass it hit you again. You stood against it, huddled and hunched over your own scream called out into the night.

Sy was there, you smelled him before he even touched you. The pain rescinded with his touch but you resisted him pulling you toward him, you kicked at his legs even though in his hands made you felt whole somehow.

“Stop!” you screamed but he held tighter, his hands traveled up your arms and held your face. He forced you to tilt your head and met his eyes. A honey colored ripple flashed over the dark blown out pupil invisible waves of spread out from your eyes down your body. It was inexplicable, with his gaze you calmed to his touch, you gave in.

Sy pulled you back to him, even though the sweater you wore the heat from his skin penetrated the fabric and so to your senses as well. He was in front of you but within you too, somehow you could feel him in your blood.

“First rut!” shouted Sy up to the sky. Howls issued back, the sound whirling and ringing in your ears.

“Alphas!” Sy dragged you by the wrist for you to follow, blurry eyes stared up at the house.

“Claim your mate!”

You entered the house in a flurry of groggy blinks and disconnected images. Flashes of wolves carved deep in stone, the sweat of dripping down Sy’s neck, his arms around you ushering you here and there. The smell of him got stronger down a dark hall, you tried to faint then, so overcome with the tearing in your groin you wanted to die. You wanted to give up and surrender to what could only be a slow death. But Sy, ever ready, pushed you, his presences gave you strength to continue over the threshold of a room.

If not for your own breathing the cries throughout the house might have scared you. Death seemed plausible though; how hard could a heart beat this way without dying? Never mind the terrible screams, the violent fits of rage that seemed to float through the wood and enter your mind. You were dying, right?

You clutched the wooden end-board as Sy stripped you naked. He maintains the closeness during, holding his chest near your back, a hand over your belly as he pulls the shirt over your head. He pressed his lips to your neck the sensation wracked your spine seizing it in an arch to meet his naked length.

“I smell you…” he whispered and jerked you around. “I want to rip you a part.” he growled then quickly kissed you.

You let him take. You let him feel and run his hands all the way down your back. Whatever this was, it reacted to his touch, left you breathless and sucking in air too.

“But I won’t,” his hands were back at your face, his teeth nipped your lips as he spoke between bites. “I promise, I’ll control myself baby.”

He turned you back around, with a hand forced you to bend over and without another word he pushed into you. Wet wasn’t the word for it, the moment he hit bottom you felt the warmth roll down your thigh. Sy gripped your hips, pulled out and then snapped your ass back to him.

The invasion bruises you, it forces you to stretch around him. When you start to cry Sy stalls. He slipped from you, held you close from behind and directed you to the side of the bed. “Shush, hush, baby..” he whispered.

He fell to the bed with you, on top of you already positioned between your legs before the tears could start up again. “Put your arms around my neck okay,”

You felt heavy all over but you did as he said. Sy smiled and kissed you as he pulled your hands up over his arms and sank back into you. “There’s my girl..” he said on a pant. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, licking, tasting you his tongue swirled over the bit of skin just below your ear.

“We felt just right,” he groaned.

It felt like hours, the constant prodding, the grinding into you, his skin slapped against yours undoing you from within. You had never come down so hard on the sensation in your life. Holding on to him tight he pounded into you, his teeth scraped your skin until he bit down. Something more, larger entered into you at the base of his cock, you shouted out as he tightened his jaws. His legs and hips pushed you further up the bed with the shaking of his body. Sy lifted up his head, finally you could see his face, the ripple of yellow rolled over his eyes, his face contorted into some ungodly beast.

Horror filled you, with the roar he let loose. You were fading though, the fear became thin with the steady beating of your heart. Your arms fell from him, his face returned to what you remembered. You laid there with him still inside. Sy’s face turned down to you, lovingly he kissed your lips, your chin, your cheek. A satisfied growl carried from his chest, long and vibrating it soothed you to shut your eyes. It sounded like a dog...

No, a wolf.

The men in your life before were easy to pin down who they were. Too loud, and their words gave them away. Too greedy, and their needs, their time was above your own. They took too much and gave very little. Their faces and their warmth are nothing to compare to the man now laying at your side.

You were a single child of single children. No extended family, passed friendly close acquaintances. Which many were brought into the fold because of childhood parties, work friends, but none could offer the connection of family. Sy offered this. A wild beginning for certain. But lying in a bed softer than clouds, his scent covering your body like the finest of tissue paper brushing across your skin but never truly feeling its weight.

Naked as the day you were born, your lids crack open, the light coming in was muddled with mist diffusing into the room as a constant drizzly morning. Sy’s arm was around your waist and when you turned your head his eyes were already open too, watching you, studying the sleepiness across your face.

“I'm so tired...what did you do to me?”

His arms squeezed around you, holding you securely but you didn’t think of it as a vice, “Our kind is meant to be sleeping now. It’s our first rut...it can be exhausting.”

Your mind searched for the meaning. Rut, it was something you had heard from hunters. When creatures mated..it was a time for animal reproduction. “Rut?”

Sy folded his other arm under his head, his blue eyes with one freckled stare at you steady.

“Babe, you were changed for the better. The boys, a few females are wolves around here.”

You sat up fast, that was a mistake for your body felt heavy. “Wolves?”

“Our people have been around for as long as there have been men.” said Sy staring up at you. “It’s a gift most would say, a curse for others.” And he rolled over on his back and threaded his fingers over his stomach.

“Which is it?”

“It’s an honor.”

“How is this even real? I don’t understand…”

“The world isn’t black and white, this isn’t the movies.”

“So..I’m changing..into what?”

“You are the Omega prime here, I don’t recon you’ll change like me but you are this. Once you see and allow your nature to come through you will understand my love.”

You pull the covers up closer hoping that somehow it would protect you from the truth. “I’m changing into a wolf??”

Sy chuckled lightly and pinched the bridge of his nose as he spoke. “No, you’re a vessel.”

“I don’t want that.”

Suddenly Sy sat up and moved his large bulky body toward you while pulling the sheet from you and sitting directly across you.

He looked you into the eyes, “It’s too late for that.”

The aches in your body, the creaking in your joints were reactivated under his gazing. Without thinking you stretched out a hand and grazed it over his shoulder and down his arm. There was no use fighting it, that feeling was beginning to churn and flex under your skin again.

You fell back to the pillow, you can’t stand even your own skin. It itched, it pulled around your muscles in a way you had never felt before. His scent enveloped you, permeating, it sinks into your pores. You could smell him more now, as if the volume of this sense turned up to zero you could even scent his cock and craved what was within it. You wanted to hunt, you wanted to run, to provide...what the fuck?

Sy unfolded your legs and laid his hips between them. “Baby, you’re sweating again. You need me. If you go for too long..you need it.”

Shaking your head while wrapping your hands around his neck your voice trembled out, “I don’t.”

His big hands buried between your body and the bed and gripped your ass. “You do...” And pushed inside of you. Every inch that sank your mouth stretched open.

“My little omega is wet for me,”

The words didn’t make sense but they rang true for your body. It was dirty and confusing but it made you want to be good for him. You shut your mouth, moaned as you did so and nodded.

Sy began to thump, a smile maybe pulled at the corner of his mouth but his eyes remained serious. “That’s it…”

“I knew you would be a perfect fit..” he groaned too, hitting bottom. “Take my knot so well, love.”

“It--it hurt.” you mumbled.

Sy kissed you lightly, his expression turned to concern, “I know love, it’s supposed to at first.” he grunted and began to slap against you harder. “Just a tight omega..”

The longer he thrusted the more the base of his cock began to thicken. He bounced against you testing the width with each jab until he was forcing it in and out of you. “See..” he hissed and laid his head against your shoulder. Sy’s tongue licked around the marks on your next sending shudders to your core. Gasping, heart thumping his rubbing from within on your clit burst the sweet ache from within.

“That’s my girl..” he whispered. Sy rose up, grabbed your wrists, pinned you down and fucked you harder.

His knot entered you completely as he stilled on top of you. In the light of a dreary day his face flashed once again of the hound he hides within. His grip tightened and this time you did not give in to the sleepiness. Sy collapsed, still holding your wrists but dragged them higher as to settle in. His hips continued with small well intended prods.

He lifted his head and stared down at you. “Do you feel it?”

His cock laid within you thick and heavy. He moved a bit and couldn't pull out. “That’s me inside of you. I did this last night, but you passed out. I fucked you all night. Do you remember it?”

Now it made sense, the aches and pains. “I had you about six times.” he said while still slowly moving his hips. He rolled his eyes back barely containing the ecstasy in his voice. “I’m filling you.”

Your purpose unfolded within your bones, spread to your muscles as warmth from the sun would. A sweet burn, one that felt ancient and destined. The life you had before shed from you as you nodded toward him. You are his, it felt right and true.

When his hands left your wrist you understood that he had brought you into his life. As he held your face and poured into you, there was no other person he loved more.

“Just a little more,” he said and began to peck your cheeks again. He appeared relaxed and with it so did you. He rubbed your hair, cuddled into you no longer moving his hips. “We’re going to make so many beautiful children together.”

Maybe with him and this strange new way, that your life before could mean more now because it brought you to this moment. Gently you caressed his face down to his beard and carefully kissed him back. Sy grinned as he pushed back on your lips.

“I’m going to take care of you,” said Sy.

Out of the shower you walk out with Sy naked once again. Water dripped down your breasts and to the floor you couldn’t shake the fact that this house felt like outside. Or maybe it was nature itself that had been invited in. You felt it here more than in any other place. The sense of being at peace, at being at home. Sy’s footfalls are never far from you. Like air, like sunlight too.

“This is --” you said sitting on the bed. “I feel odd. Like I feel you or this house..I’m not sure how to explain it.”

Sy handed you a towel and began to dry his body off. “Bonding.” he said while rubbing his dick and then his thighs.

You stood up once again, and started to dry off. “You’re my mate. This home was built by my family, it means something.”

His words swallowed your thoughts as you stared at him for a moment. Sy walked to the closet in the far corner, he pulled out a few pieces of clothing and started to dress. “I’ve got stuff in here for you too babe.” and motioned for you to follow.

“How?”

“We still have the keys to that little house you’re buying. I had them move some of your clothes here while we were eating dinner last night.”

He leaned over and pecked your head. You walked to the closet and pulled on the long sleeve shirt, and held the sweat in your hands. You grabbed some faux sheepskin fleece boots too.

“Over there,” he pointed near the bed to a large ornate dresser. “Your socks and things.”

You finished dressing as Sy walked from the bathroom, his curls were tamed for the time as he fanned his fingers through them. “Just try and let it happen, okay? The more you fight it, the longer it takes.”

“You brought me here! You drugged me and now you just want me to accept this?”

Sy shrugged, “It’s always been this way.” He stepped up to you and the connection hummed at his fingertips that lightly grazed the skin around your mark. “I know you feel wronged. I’m sorry I took you. But this is your home now, it would only upset the baby if you kept fighting against this.”

Your head snapped back, “Baby?” You touched your stomach, a reflex really.

“There will be soon.” he smiled and brought you back to his face, “We need to--” but he stopped suddenly and sniffed the air. “Wait here.”

Purely out of the concern in his voice you did as he said. But there was more, it was in your bones and you followed out the door anyway. Loud voices carried across the space. At once within the hallway the smell of rot hit your nose. Maggoty things sprang to mind, decay and plunder of flesh flashed across your mind. Sy continued around the second story, and you followed passed busts of brass faces and more pelts lining the inside wall. Despite the sunny rays pouring over dark wood from above and falling down onto the stone monument below, the air felt rancid.

Passed an adjacent hallway, and another few closed doors you saw the source of the fretful talking. Rex turned his head from the railway overlooking the first floor up to Sy. He paced away from it back to the door behind him, he looked in, his eyes wide he did not stop staring within. Sy stopped next to him, you saw him turn his head and peer in too. You followed suit, with your eyes adjusting to the light blazing in from three giant windows. Within the bed laid a woman upon her back, arms half moved like a crooked doll her eyes were open staring blankly up at the ceiling.

She was the source, your stomach turned and you stepped forward. Sy held you by the arm. But she did not look decomposed, but the smell wafted up to you anyways. “Cindy!”

You moved again but was still held back, “Wait love.” asked Sy quietly.

“She didn't--” Rex was crying as he spoke. “..the transformation..she.”

There was an end, clearly somewhere within this concoction of mystical smoke people could die. Women met their end.

Olive approached from the other side of Rex, she crossed her arms and stared within the room disappointed. “You know what needs to be done Rex.” her aged voice cracked in the middle, executing the order while dealing compassion was never her strongest trait.

“She just died!” you yelled.

Olive stayed level as she spoke to Sy. “You don’t want the old God after us, Alpha Prime. You are that now, tonight will make it official. You must do it.”

“She has a family! They will look for her!” you turned around and shouted at Olive.

Olive seemed to cave into your voice as she turned her head shakily toward you. “I know her mother, sisters. If they come asking questions I’ll handle it.” She released a breath, steadied herself against Rex and looked back to Sy.

“When’s the last time you knelt to an Omega Prime?” he asked Olive. She frowned, and it looked like she was biting the inside of her lip and averted her eyes back to the room. “Half the day is gone.” said Sy. “Tonight is the run..we need to do this just after dark.”

“So that’s it!” your voice came out as little more than a whisper. “You kill her? Now you’re going to hid-”

Sy whipped you around stared right into your eyes, the color in them shifted. They emitted authority down upon you to the point you were left speechless. His jaw relaxed and with it an almost soothing growl followed, but you broke through you attempted to turn your eyes. But he grabbed you by the arms, made you gaze back at him. He began to growl low, not threatening, you felt the anger within you plummet.

“Now that you’re calm, listen. She has received the gift but her soul did not take to it. If we do not dispose of the body properly...”

Sy let you go and turned his eyes back to the room. “Let’s just say they haven’t had a dark soul in this area in a generation.”

Already the house smelled better, though cold with every window now wide open, the older women went about shutting them again. A small thin woman with silver hair eyed you as she walked passed you toward the kitchen.

“There’s still breakfast left.” she said softly. “Just for you, miss.”

You muddled over her comment for a minute. You were starving but the idea of eating after finding Cindy dead was pulling at your ethics. She turned at the door to the kitchen and waved you in. You relented to the hunger.

Within the kitchen it was busy, with women and men going about preparing food. A giant stone island had six people surrounding it chopping up onions, tomatoes and other things you didn’t get a good look at. The woman returned to you with a plate of toast, a giant pile of scrambled eggs, bacon and glass of orange juice and motioned for you to sit at the last seat near a young girl who was crushing saltine crackers into a giant bowl.

You ate quickly, said nothing as their conversation picked back up with the arrival of this woman. She had to be about ninety, she commanded the kitchen, ordered people with soft words but stern looks if they back talked her instructions.

“Well no one else is gunna say it.” said a woman from the other side of the counter. She had curly brown hair, jagged eyebrows that gave her the permanent expression of agitation. “So how does it feel to be the Queen of the Den?”

When you bit off from your toast, those talking halted and looked at you, some continued their jobs in silence.

You chewed a couple of times, “I don’t know what that means,” you said with a full mouth.

The woman looked up to the older woman rolling out dough. She scoffed, “Sloan knows how to pick’em.” and rolled her eyes.

With that the old woman banged the roller on the counter and pointed it back at the woman. “Peach! It’s true!”

“I won’t hear it!” said Peach, her soft voice broke into a growl. “Dottie shut that damn big hole in your face!”

“It’s not for you to know how to strengthen the pack.” Peach relaxed back, held the roller between thick knuckles and looked back toward you.

“Sorry about that Prime. I wouldn’t recon young and dumb went hand in hand unless it came to Dottie. She meant no harm.”

You nodded slightly, sat up a bit straighter and continued to eat. Sloan? After all this, you had never known his first name. They returned to work, though Dottie went right back to chatting with the woman next to her. The little girl hummed next to you as she moved to the next sleeve of crackers. And halfway swallowing the orange juice the back door swung open with a man carrying an animal over his shoulder. Sy entered right behind him, the man slammed the carcass on a large prepping table at the back of the large kitchen.

Sy’s gaze never left you as he walked across the kitchen, he slipped in between you and the girl and kissed the top of your head.

“Hey Sloan.” you said under your breath, he pulled back nodded then smiled slightly as he grabbed a few crackers from the table.

“Are you done?” he asked, you plucked the toast from the plate and followed him out the back door.

You walked and walked with Sy. After a few minutes of silence he grabbed your hand and led you away from the house deeper into the land.

“What’s going to happen to Cindy,” you asked quietly.

“At dark there will be a ceremony, she will be buried then.”

He said it matter of fact though it did not set that way with you. But nothing really felt right since you got here. It was just another shocking development after another really. “What kind of ceremony?”

Sy helped you step over a fell tree, “For the turning. She has to be burned before it’s over.”

You tried not to take his callousness to heart. Though it did seem insane to speak of the dead in such a way. It didn’t strike you as hard though. Something within you felt calm about it, like a lasting trust for the man near.

And you didn’t know if it was the walking but you felt sick. At first in your stomach but quickly it grew to aches and cramps in your belly.

“I heard Olive say that,” you said through a twist beginning to gnaw at your back.

“The pack expects it. I’m the Alpha Prime, it is up to me to see that we are safe. And I will do it. I’ll do it till my last breath.”

Sy let go of your hand and wrapped his arm around your back. “This land is for you too,” his hand drifted down your back and settled into the back pocket of your jeans. “I want you to feel at home here.”

When you didn’t respond Sy stopped and forced you to look at him. His fingers stroked your cheek and then with the back of his hand, testing and feeling your claiming skin. “You need me?” he asked.

Shaking your head you pulled from him and walked whatever direction you thought he was going. But you didn’t get far before you doubled over.

Sy was there, near you making you stand up and lean on him. “Come on, there’s a cabin near. It should be vacant for a few hours.”

“We can’t just use someone’s home-” you winced.

He made you walk with him again, “It's not. Call it a lookout, there are other things out here a lot more dangerous than the occasional coyote.”

You huddled into him, sweating and whining as he walked you down the path where a small house came into view. He helped you up the stairs feeling the wetness building between your thighs. And as soon as you got in it he was on you. “We barely made it in here love.” he said between kisses. His hands quickly grabbed and tugged at your pants as he walked you toward a patchy couch.

His nose dragged from your neck, your breasts with his fingers pulling at the top of your jeans. You didn’t fight him when he pushed you down. You didn’t say a word when he used your jeans and underwear as a way of holding your legs up and close to your chest. Exposing your glistening pussy, Sy pulled himself out and entered you immediately. Bare upper thighs, Sy’s hands held you there allowing the pants to continue to restrain your legs.

“Do I really want this? Or is it something else?” you moaned as he pumped fast.

Your eyes rolled back, “Feels so good.” you whispered as he thumped harder.

“It's real,...you belong to me.” Sy leaned in crushing you more with his weight and size. He sucked hard and fanned breath down to you as he huffed, “Always have…the smoke wouldn’t have taken if it weren’t true.”

“You,” he pushed in with every word, “..belong to me.”

“They live in the fog,” Sy said and pointed toward the dark patches between trees.

You were right to be afraid, not of them though, for you had seen these on your first ride up here. In the car with a chatty Cindy you had told yourself it was only an illusion. Perhaps the fear was of yourself, the ignorance, the lack of connection to worlds thought to be of lore that were closer than you thought.

“Who are they?” you asked while walking closer to Sy. The open woods felt smaller now, what other beings existed out in the wild?

“Sprites, small gods.” he said, looking forward again. “B’careful and never ask anything of them. They crave warmth at the best of times, they like to hang around bodies. But if you speak to them it’sa chance for them to get inside of you.”

You said nothing after that, wide eyes continued to search the trees recognizing more hazy emotionless faces than before with each step. Light from the torches grew brighter, illuminating the dark and with it the beings faded with the touch of heat.

You entered the area lined with thick wooden torches topped with fire. The other alphas followed behind with their mates and little was said among them. The crack of the fires to the cold of the night was the only sound that really interrupted the moment.

Sy and you stood just within the entry of this circle of flames, one after the other one alpha with his mate took their spots around the center. Built of wood like a stage and on top - a body shrouded in white, it reminded you of something you had only seen in the movies, a funeral pyre. Rex stepped close to the structure, his head pointed toward it, the flicker of shadows and light play down his back and over his head. The shiny beads, things that looked like round coins hung and clinked together in the gust of frigid wind.

You didn’t look away until you felt Sy step away. He was behind you, unhooking the handle of the torch from the pole. And he stared toward it, walked past you and flung the torch into the brush skirting the pile.

The moment it caught fire something twisted within your gut and chest. At first it felt like guilt, a pang across the muscles in your chest but it persisted. It burst to life in your senses from your lungs and spread out to the tips of your fingers and toes. You heard screaming, light quips of moans from the other women. When you looked around they too were grabbing their chests at the same time you hunched over. Standing there in sparse dead grass, you tried to steady yourself, bracing the air but nothing came to your aid. It buckled your knees. Whatever this was swept through you in waves of pain and knowing. You weren’t sure of anything, but it felt okay, that all of this wouldn’t last.

The wood cried as flames engulfed the bottom tier completely. And with it, the very atmosphere around you snapped and spit energy you’ve never felt before. Low growling from all around but the loudest, the longest comes from your side. You look up from the ground to Sy. Teeth bared through his thick beard his brows were pulled tight, the angles of his features once again exaggerated into something not human. You stared horrified when he began to claw at his chest, his fingers were not his own, they were long, gnarly and tipped with long nails. The yell from his mouth was an ear splitting soul shaking screech that shook your spirit.

With the crack of bones, his skin sloughs off long black fur, the floppy bits hit the ground and immediately sank in and became fertile ground that sprouted green grass. His legs grew long and bulky and snapped back like that of a dog. He grew taller, bigger with a wolf's snout and face.

Suddenly a shriek from the fire rang above the growling and howling around you. Upon the pyre the fire had reached Cindy, but she wasn’t laying there any more. Her body stood, claws ripped through the sheet as it too caught fire. You stared up at it hopelessly, panting hard your heart thumping at an inhuman speed, part of you gave up in the wake of this. You sat there unable to fight the buckling and rebirth of your senses.

Cindy’s body lept from the toppling pyre toward you. No time to react or run something large stepped between you and it. A man screamed from your right, he was in the middle of changing to. Rex stepped toward it with his face shifting in and out of human and wolf and tried to grab the thing by its arm.

The sheet had burned and melted into what was once Cindy’s face. Its jaw opened long, stretching pieces of fabric and skin across its dark mouth and shrieked. The thing swiped at Rex, slicing through his skin to the white of his flesh across his neck, chest and belly. Blood splashed into the air and to the ground. He crumpled to the ground, dead before he even touched it. And when Cindy’s body turned back toward you something suddenly impaled her chest straight back into the fire, pinning her there until the families consumed her completely.

It was quiet after besides your breathing and the warping of blood in your ears. Sy, now fully transformed, stepped to Rex, picked him up and as gently as he could, placed his body too in the fire next to Cindy.

His feet were large paws that you centered your attention on. Displacing the dirt with every step you refused to pull your eyes up further. And when he knelt down to you, his great big clawed furry hands sat on either side of your body. He nudged the side of your face with his wet nose until you did look up. His eyes were the same, with the ripple of honey across blue that you had seen before. He tilted his head down, rubbed his nose into the palm of your hand until finally you ran your hand over the bridge of his nose, and up into the thick fur between two giant ears.

He pushed his nose into your neck gently before he stood up. Whatever had come over you was quickly dispersing. Though now, after, you smelled more, like a scent had color or flavor that you had never noticed before. The same with your vision, prying your eyes off the newly formed Sy, and glancing at the trees and saw the fog people for who they were. No longer just faces, full bodied apparitions with different clothes and emotions of their own. And your hearing, besides the tiniest movement of creatures, you could sense the footsteps in the ground and in your ears from the direction of the house. However peering through the dark you could see their silhouettes were still quite close to the house.

Sy grunted and you turned back to him. His snout was tilted up toward the sky, sniffing and licking the air. He howled long and loud and the others followed. He turned to you once again, baring his teeth and took off, leaping over the pyre toward the other side of the circle. A sudden rush of the others following their leader joined him and disappeared into the forest.

The hall was packed. Along with the row of three tables that you had seen before, there was another, running diagonal at the top. You sat next to Sy who sat at this table, on the middle cushion, surrounded with the faces you had come to recognize. The new members appeared as you felt, lost perhaps in the fray of the night's ceremony, exhausted too, and probably worried about their new lives. They too most likely felt the pull as well. The fading of what their old lives were being replaced by the energy of family around them.

But even as they and you came to grips with what this new life included cheering erupted throughout the hall. Laughing, and gesturing toward one another as they ate and swapped tales of their adventure in the forest. Yes, this felt like family. Something you weren’t so used to having.

Peach came walking to you and Sy holding a large platter made of wood. She came to your side and slid it into the empty space on the table. On it were slices of meat overlapping in a circle that looked nearly raw with it’s moist flesh, and dark red sauce.

Sy picked one up, he placed it near your mouth. A subtle smile played at the corner of his lips as he urged you to open. You felt the enormity of this moment if you took this bite. This was it, you would be accepting your place here and everything that meant. You stared into his eyes and then took a small bite. The flavor was metallic in your mouth, tangy and fleshy as you chewed. Sy ate the other part. He passed the plate to the next man who did the same with his mate.

He leaned close to you, his nose sniffed your neck back and forth tilting his head slowly. “I think you got a secret.” he whispered, still sniffing you, his nose brushing upon the skin of your jaw.

“I don’t think it’s a secret that this is all weird,” you laughed softly, and picked at your food.

His nose touched your skin again and breathed in deep, “Oh yeah,” his lips caressed the rim of your ear. “You’re pregnant.”

You jerked your head toward him, mouth slightly parted, the words escaping as they formed in your mind. “I will protect you..” he said.

“I will love you ‘til the end of my days.” His fingers glided long the other side of your jaw to your chin. “D’you accept me?” he asked quietly.

The hall had gone quiet. You ignored the weight of their stares. Slowly you stroked his beard and nodded slightly. “I accept you.” you whispered back. And cheering roared. Part 2

#Black reader #black female reader #x black!reader #dark!syverson #dark!geralt #dark!syverson x black reader #dark!geralt x black reader

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blueparadis · 2 years

Text

▏CAN'T PRETEND ▏M.SANO ▏

+. content warnings — afab-reader, college au, modern au, college boy!Manjiro and college boy! Draken, enemies to lovers, angst, mention of Draken, Baji, Kazutora, Mitsuya, Emma, OCs, explicit smut, oral acts, mature language. ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

+. synopsis — Draken, it was all draken; it was his fauilt that Manjiro came to know about your feelings for him but you didn’t regret it, you regretted what happened afterward. ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

+. notes — HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY SUNSHINE BOY ( I LOVE EVERY VERSION OF HIM) & this piece is a part of “begrudging beloved”, hosted by @hishalo .

— you can also read this in ao3. It took hours for me to format this post because tumblr decided to thrash my remnant energy.I'm so very tired that I feel stoned.

⌗ tags —» @fueledbysano @michiphoria @cursedmoonchild word count — 10k REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED | tap here to view my works.

Manjiro Sano, the heart and sunshine of the college. He was good at sports, quite fertile-brained in academics, and always managed to be in good books with the professors even though he was the pioneer of anything that could sprout into a chain of never-ending trouble.

With Ken Ryuguji on his side all the time, he seemed unreachable yet he had a bevy of girls around him. Most girls swooned over him and he did not exactly enjoy the stares but never bothered to shoo them away. Why would he? He didn't have to do much for their attention; better put it to good use rather than throw it all away.

He was the most outspoken among his friends. Something about him stirred an affinity among most hearts. Was it his smile, his kindness, his mischievous acts? you couldn’t tell. He was a boy full of dreams and the heart wrecker of your soul.

He excelled at keeping up roses and sunshines reputation of his but when you first saw him it shattered too much to mend by itself. He was at the infirmary getting his cock sucked by a senior of his. Boxers gathered at the foot, the jersey tossed aside while his hands were rested on the bed.

There were rounds of practice matches on that day that provided him the perfect opportunity to sneak out. His skin glowing in dim light, soaking in sweat. Eyes closed, the head was thrown back and you exhaled a sharp breath when he flipped his head in the front followed by a husky groan.

At that moment, as you watched him struggle with his breath, gasping and panting heavily, his eyes fell over you. And you immediately vanished in the nearest girl's washroom almost under the reflex.

Sick. Horrid. Who does he think he is? It's not like no one's stopping them but why here? why here of all places? Unfortunately, that wasn't the last encounter. Since your art class was on the fifth floor, opposite the playground it gave a great view, a subject to think about, for most students but you, it turned out to be your maddening distraction.

Classes were fine and with a friend like Naomi, you couldn't ask for more. She was the principal’s daughter but she never exposed the flag to show dominance, to have her way with everything. And that's why you liked her.

Who the fuck cares about the talk going behind your back? And knowing Naomi, she couldn't bother to give a flying fuck who spewed nonsense into her ears, saying that you were trying to use her, to be in good books with her to clear semesters and blah blah blah.

“What’re you going to have for breakfast Nao?”, she peered through her eyelashes pouting a little trying to give thought to you.

“Unlike you, I eat my breakfast and don't stay up late either. So. . .”

“Yea! Yea! Yea! Got it. I'll be right back then.”, rolling your eyes heavenwards, you quickly ended her trail of talk otherwise she'd soon start sounding like your mom.

That was your routine and you never go out of it since this was the only time when you could know if he was absent or present, playing a match or not, having a practice study session, or just detention.

Somedays, Mitsuya, Naomi’s boyfriend came with snacks and you could still find yourself searching for him, Manjiro. It's a good thing that you've English in common with Draken otherwise it's like a circle in a spiral just to get a glimpse of him.

And without Draken, Manjiro hit like a cold wave washing over your soul every time you crossed paths with him. As you reached the food court, you beamed and your heart leaped with joy finding Draken at the usual spot. He was friendly, and well-mannered unlike his friend; why couldn't you just like him instead?

“How was the first class?”, Draken said as he grabbed his bag to put it near the foot of the table.

“The usual. I’m glad I pulled the all-nighter otherwise I would have lost this scholarship”, you quipped adjusting yourself beside him.

“ Da faq ”, Draken screamed. His eyes focused on your body, eyebrows growing closer with annoyance as you try to figure out his awful usage of words, that too in the morning. It's way too early for this.

“God! Sometimes I don't know whether you're careless or just thoughtless. ”, he gives his jersey to you gesturing to put it on. And as you did, you realize that the high-neck ivory top didn't do a great job hiding your bra color. The bra lining was perfectly visible if it were to be against the sunlight.

“I was in a hurry so…”, Draken's eyebrows jumped at your feeble try to put up an explanation as if he hasn’t heard thousands of lame excuses of yours, “Yeah, I’m sorry.”, you amended instantly putting those strained focused eyes of worry at ease.

After the first period, both of you had a free class and he has always been the first to hit the canteen since he has grown accustomed to your ways and habits — of being punctual even if it meant skipping your breakfast. Hence, he is always ready to pay for your breakfast. He is nice and kind but he isn’t witless. He knows which button to press to impress you, which to piss you off and which to use to get to his girl, Emma.

“I’ve one more class, that too a self-study one, then all classes are dissolved...Ah Shit”

“Why are you like this y/n?”, Draken tried to imitate your tone. silencing the call that lit up his phone he apologetically asked, “no but seriously y/n. Why are you so irritated?”

“I did not just come for a single class, well, it wasn’t all in vain . . . ”, of course, it wasn’t. Only two classes and the rest are dissolved. What could be more time-captivating than to watch him play while all you do is sit at a lonely corner of a bench to watch his current ‘fling’ being all over him?

She wasn't the one who had given him a blow job. She was different, a brunette and this one was a blonde bitch. Sometimes you just wanted to scream from the bottom of your lungs to tell everyone how much of scum is he but you couldn't just do that. It's not like he has come after you or harmed you but such a foul act of violating the rules made you snap every time you spotted him with a girl.

��Ken-chin.”, a high-pitched voice. “I knew I’d find you here”, created ripples in your pool of thoughts. It was him. The person you managed to avoid throughout the semester and you were successful if he hadn't just showed up in your favorite place. As much as his presence made you restless from afar, his very presence next to you boiled your blood oozing out annoyance, sometimes anger. He was way too full of himself, the only flaw you could pin till now.

Manjiro sat in front of his friend and before he could take a good look at you, you tapped Draken’s shoulders and left immediately. No words were exchanged and you wanted to keep it that way.

Even though you wanted to know him, you never wished to catch his attention simply because first, you wouldn't stand a chance against those popular girls he has been with or might not fit his needs or probably you're not his type.

Second, why would he even bother to look at you when he has a horde of hot chicks just a tap away? Moreover, it wouldn’t end well for you. While he’ll remain unscathed you’ll become more mutilated than before since there’s no coming back if he ever initiates the first step. After all, just like most of the girls you too had a crush on him.

That day at the infirmary when you saw him you knew you’d be treated just like others, a page to turn over. You could never blame him for that even in all your sanity. He dated girls, he fucked them witless, probably some relationships were broken because of him but you still didn't think he was bad.

They did say love is blind but if that was the case you would at least try once to be in his vicinity thinking he might be kind enough to pick a withering flower like you. But, he would never; Manjiro would never be the one to pick you because you are bad for his health, too pure for his bad habits, and, that he’ll know with just a glance.

Even if he accidentally picks you, all your emotions will come crashing down like a castle of sand struck by his wave of crude, cold tactics. There was no other result of such borrowed love.

Everyone was kind of aware of his flirty behavior but none knew he fucked girls witless in the changing room after winning the match except his team, the girls he tossed to Baji and then to Kazutora after a while getting bored with them.He hated losing. Miraculously, his team never lost official matches. He was always very passionate about what he wanted, be it victory or you.

“Na Ken-chin !…who’s that girl wearing your jersey?, Manjiro asked while his eyes watched you fade into the group of students like a hawk. “Tell me who is she.”

Draken has known him since his childhood and knowing Manjiro, he won’t stop chaffing at him throughout the day until he gets what he wants. Ryuguji lets out a sigh as his thoughts come to an end.

“She is y/n y/l/n. Arts major. quite quick on the tongue but doesn't talk much. she's good at sports too … and she likes to wear light-colored tops, mostly one-pieces. ” Draken states everything with a straight face except that you’re close to Emma since it would be troublesome for both of you. His eyes are focused on his plate that is getting emptied by Manjiro as he robotically spills every single detail he knew about you, that he has noticed since you've been friends with him from the beginning of the year.

And then, he pauses noticing his empty plate before finally adding the finishing touch for your introduction. Manjiro gives up searching for that familiar jacket in the crowd as his eyes finally focused on his friend.

“and today she's wearing a red bra.”, Draken utters meekly as his eyes dart onto his friend’s pale face from the empty plate. His cheeks flushed at his comment.

“Da faq Ken-chin”, Manjiro coughed covering his mouth with the length of his arm. “what’s it have to do with who she is?” He starts to cuss at him which does nothing but brighten up Baji's day who was watching all of these from the corner of the food counter.

Baji was sure taken aback when Manjiro showed interest in a girl. From what he has observed, he never had to take the first step, that is, to gather intel because it’s always the girls who lurk in his range like a moth. Manjiro was more than ready to burn their wings. But Alas! You were a butterfly, so very far from his range yet so tempting to his insatiable ways of hunger.

Draken tossed his bag over his shoulder leaving Manjiro in absolute dismal as he exclaims with a grin, “she’s too good for you. Don't get attached.”, before leaving the table.

Manjiro doesn't get to talk back much since he's still trying to recover from his thought about you since he has seen enough naked girls have an idea how you would be, under that white silk dress with red lingerie set.

But why the fuck Draken would notice such detail about you? You are just some random girl whom he has often seen around himself in breaks. Not that he was much bothered

But Manjiro always wanted to believe that it was a lot more than just some lucky coincidences. And, even though he knew you had seen him in the infirmary he never thought it would be wise to make you aware that he recognized you the very next day.

Still, he was hoping too much. After all, he has seen a lot of his friends going haywire in emotions, affections or love, or whatever they prefer to call it. To him, you were another passing cloud but for you, he was the whole sky full of grey hues, devoid of rainbows and sapphire serenity

“Emma you’re here? Don’t you have classes?”, Naomi’s voice was audible through the corridors. You smiled to yourself since it’s rare for her to come and visit your class. Thanks to whatever meeting the teacher’s council was having, the students could finally breathe freely and even fly.

“Well, it’s all dissolved and I know you two have another class which is more of a self-study period. So, I came to visit. I was getting bored.”

“I’m back”, Naomi and Emma were startled by your excitement. You quickly got rid of Draken’s jersey and handed it to Emma. At first, she hesitated but when you both of you smirked wiggling eyebrows towards her at a rhythm, she could not help but take it with a grin plastered on her face.

“Let me take some pictures”, you muttered taking the phone out of your pocket.

“Woah! You’re quick-witted. And good at this”, Naomi praised as Emma put the jacket on. It was double her size. Still, she looked so adorable.

After taking a few pictures Emma warned, “Do not show them to Draken.” “Aye Aye Ma’am”, you and Naomi, both said in unison perfectly making it clear, that Draken is getting those pictures before her. He’ll get a boner if he sees Emma in his jacket.

The clouds started to cluster at the bosom of the sky while the boys were at the peak of playing volleyball. You glanced through the window and it first fell on Manjiro, then on Mitsuya. You didn’t seem to find Draken, not yet.

“It might rain soon. The forecast said there will be a heavy downpour. Emma, why don’t you go home? I’ve car so I’ll drop Y/n home and we’re staying for a bit to work on our projects.”, Naomi suggested.

Although, Emma didn’t seem to like the idea. She agreed but she needed to inform her brother that she was going home early.

She faded into the corridor while you picked up your palette knife. Keeping the cake crumb in your mouth you started to paint the blank canvas. Naomi was talking to her mom. You noticed Emma running through the field to go to his brother.

“What the actual fuck?”, it took a while to connect the dots; Manjiro Sano, shortly Mikey or Mike. You were aware of both of his nicknames but Emma’s Mikey and the heart-throb of this college would be the same person was a tough fact to digest. You could feel your heartbeats against your ear drums while you watched Manjiro nod at his sister’s predicament and smile at her.

Now, that’s new. You’ve been watching him for months now, well you had to. If you could change your college you’d do it in a heartbeat but that’s impossible so as this; to get a glimpse of him smiling so happily. Even when he was with his friends it was close to scoffing or smirking.

You watched Emma run towards the school building with a grin on her face and when your eyes went back towards Manjiro, his eyes were already on you. Nerves stilled, breathing seemed to stop, you counted your heartbeats sitting like a statue eyes settling on him.

You pondered. Perhaps, he was watching someone else but when you looked towards the coach at the sound of the whistle, he immediately averted his gaze. He was looking towards the net, where players were yet to take positions and the coach was standing.

Damn, he was watching you. It was just a mere fraction of the moment like a flickering light yet it recoiled back to the first eye contact you had with him, vile yet exhilarating! You spotted Baji, Kazutora, and Draken as your eyes scanned the field.

The time flew faster than you imagined. Naomi was busy with her project and judging by the splotches on her dress she got stuck with her art project. Your canvas remained empty since every time you tried to give a shape to your thought his face would appear as well as vanish instantly. Your mind was restless, and so was your soul and you cussed him for that.

The rain had just started pouring. All the boys were still playing except Manjiro. It is not that hard to pick a blonde boy with a short stature among all of them or maybe he rubbed off on you. You scoffed as the thought of being bound to him by anything other than hatred crossed your mind.

The corridor was empty and devoid of the normal chatter. The only sound that prevailed was of the splattering raindrops against the window pane. Manjiro was merrily whistling walking through that lonely corridor and texting his friends to come over to Izana’s place.

Izana, Izana Kurokawa; his step-brother. He was still studying with the aid of scholarships. Unlike his brother, he wasn't very athletic. He was all brains and beauty. He graduated three years earlier than Manjiro. The smile in his yearbook photo declared that he could win many hearts in an instant.

Manjiro had no problem arranging for a place to chill and relax since he gets a little shy in front of his eldest brother, Shinichiro. It’s not the place, it’s the person, he would say. Being ten years elder than him, Shinichiro was like his dad. So, he was always confined in Izana especially in the matters of heart and girls because he believes Shinichiro wasn't like them;

While he held the ability to attract butterflies even though they never seem to come back, Izana and Manjiro were always the flames that would burn their wings. Such was their jealousy, their possessiveness.

Albeit, it would be less tedious to bring a girl over to his house rather than Zana's but Shinichiro had an idea how much it would mean to a girl while his gem of a brother would remain oblivious to such blooming emotions. So, Shinichiro declared a straight no to such habits.

“Listen, Zana. Emma went home early. We’re coming over to your place. Did you score?”

“Yep. How many are coming today?”, Izana exhaled as he checked the watch, 7:30 pm.

Manjiro paused. Draken went to drop Emma. Mitsuya would get busy with his girl.

“It’s just Baji, Tora. Two.”, he wiped his body with his jersey.

“No, make it three” He ended the call immediately and quickly hid against the turn of the corridor as he saw you standing absent-mindedly staring at the rain. There she is, the girl in red.

Without much thinking, he strolled towards you.

“Do you know where”, if he didn’t grab your hand you’d have bashed your head against the floor? His fingers remain clamped around your wrist. You exhaled strongly at such a surprise and before you composed yourself properly as he asked again, “Do you know where Draken is?”

“He went along with Emma to drop her home.”, It’s odd that he has to ask since you clearly remember Emma being all giddy while mentioning that Manjiro insisted on taking someone with her, someone as in Draken.

“Leaving you all alone…”, you quickly detached your hand from his hold and tucked it behind your waist. Your eyebrows congested at his remark.

What did he exactly mean by that? Why? Why would he leave me alone? First of all, why the fuck does he think we’ve something that might end up with him leaving me?

“Well, if you’re free you can come with us.”,

“She isn’t”, Naomi slipped in. Perfect.

Being Mitsuya’s girl as well as the daughter of the principal she was desired by many, perhaps Manjiro too but only to fuck her up. There is nothing he hated more than when he didn't get what he wanted and when his ploy gets an unmendable deviation.

“She is coming with us. I’m going to drop her home after Karaoke”

“What? When did that happen?”, Mitsuya’s jaw dropped because in this weather he would rather spend his time with Naomi rather than along with her friends in karaoke. Manjiro noticed how the love birds talked in eye codes and let out a short throaty chuckle. His pitch black pupils shun in thrill.

“So, if you change your mind. Let me know. I’ll be at the changing room”, he crossed by you leaving you in utter anger and disgust.

“I won’t. I won’t change my mind every time you ask.”, you bit your bottom lip inwards to control your anger but it was in vain.

“And as for Draken, he asked me before leaving with Emma.”, you lied and when he looked back at you, his aghast gaze was the greatest victory.

You walked away into your room leaving Naomi and Mitsuya baffled at your behavior. They kinda knew how you hated him but they happen to believe it’s the otherwise.

Manjiro didn’t realize he was grinning at your sharp display of wit until Baji smacked at the back of his head exclaiming that he looked like a stuffy toy, like Mickey mouse. He let out a trail of throaty chuckles this time gaining Baji’s stares.

“One, two”, Izana searched for number three as he held the door open with a cigarette pressed in between his teeth. He was barely dressed. “Where is number three?”

“Not coming.”, baji and Hanemiya followed as Manjiro stomped through his lavish apartment and sat in the middle of the sofa.

“She’s not easy.”, Baji added

“Ah, it’s a She”, Izana said with a dragging tone earning Manjiro’s stare.

“Yeah, she isn’t easy. Any girl would have jumped at an opportunity like that. How close is she with Ken-chin?”

“Quite close!”, Kazutora added as he started to roll a joint. Manjiro’s eyes flared at Baji and then to Kazutora who seemed too focused on his joint than usual.

“How close are they?”, Manjiro’s voice was stern, bold laced with possessiveness. At first, Baji hesitated, but when Izana nodded at the way he gave in.

“Well, word around the campus is y/n has a crush on him.”

“We all know about Draken but no idea about how he feels about y/n”, Kazutora finished Baji’s thought as he sealed the joint with the tip of his tongue.

For the first time, Manjiro felt awful about himself. Not for craving you only for himself even if that would last only for a few months, but because you saw right through him. He never bothered too much to find answers for why. He thinks those bring more trouble than lies. So, he didn’t give a flying fuck why he was so hooked on you. He just wanted you.

“What are you doin’?”, Draken asked from the other side of the phone.

“Ah! Cursing myself to death”, you said as you gazed at the imprint Manjiro Sano left on your right hand of his hold

“Ya’ know y/n Mikey was asking about you… and”

“And you told everything you know about me?”

“Fuck, at least be a little happy. At least you caught his eyes”

“Why? Why would I be? He is … forget it. I don’t wanna talk about it”

“Oh, c’mon do you think I wouldn't notice how you look at him? ALL THE TIME? ”

“I don’t know. You’re not getting those jersey pics of Emma's. Good night”, your cheeks flushed at his remark. Yes, you watched him. You watched him every chance you would get but if only Draken knew that you could never have him the way you wanted, only yours. So, you had to bury the feeling of liking him before it would bloom into love.

The next day, you couldn’t spot him anywhere on the campus. Even Draken didn’t know his whereabouts. Emma was hard to find too but since she was finally making some progress with Ken, you swallowed your curiosity, your bubbles of worried thoughts about him. Baji, Kazutora - those two were your only option since Nao as well as Mitsu would rather leap with joy thinking you’ve finally come to terms with their opinion. Sometimes, they’re so mom and dad to you.

It has been almost two weeks since you stopped going to the canteen; three since you didn’t spot Manjiro. The former had hurt you more since watching Draken and Emma soaked in happiness and with promised roses, it made you aware of how lonely you were. It is not that Emma stole your place; you never had a place, to begin with. You knew that from the very beginning but to see it all play out was such an eyesore.

At last, you decided to drop by the changing room. You could hear different male voices overlapping with each other. It was difficult to recognize. The moment you entered the volleyball court, there was a silent wave that washed over both of you as you spotted Manjiro spiking the ball. He noticed you since you leaned against the railing over the balcony. It is the last set and surely it wouldn’t hurt to wait and watch him play.

One more score and then the practice match would be over. It was Baji’s turn to serve. You inhaled a deep breath as you started to walk toward the exit but a sharp voice made you jolt. Still, it didn’t stop you.

“Hey the girl in red” “Hey y/n”, it was his voice, Manjiro. you searched for him and as your eyes landed on him he smiled brightly. Your heart leaped into the core of your throat.

“Wait for me. Please. Till the finish the game.”, with all the loneliness and sadness piling up inside your body, you barely could bite back like most of the time and hence you had to wait.

As the game finished you stood near the entrance of the changing room. Kazutora left without much fuss but Baji eyed you up and down, then looked at Manjiro before leaving.

“Thanks for waiting!”, he quipped as you offered him your insulated water bottle still trying to figure out your actions. If you still had a place to go after the first period, as you had a few weeks ago; perhaps, you wouldn't have been here. Thanks to Draken.

“Did you tell anyone?”, Manjiro noticed the confusion in your eyes. “About what you saw at the infirmary last semester?”, your eyebrows jumped as the memory flashed at the back of your head.

He emptied the bottle over himself and drank the rest of the cold water as his dark globes scanned you.

Manjiro was at his limit, cautious around you since he never dealt with your kind. The kind that would look breathtakingly beautiful while drowning in vulnerability. He didn’t know that until he noticed you coming day in and day out at the canteen. Watch you stare at Draken and Emma as you grabbed a packed food and then leave without a word.

Manjiro knew you were friends with his sister and secretly he was thankful for the friendship that kept you from being the third wheel in her relationship. But what he couldn’t digest was how you looked at Draken.

It is such a vicious cycle how Manjiro will never know how you looked at him, thought of him, and pushed him out of your soul before you gave in to the illuminating flame of affection.

“No” His eyes were pale. “My turn. Did you seriously make me wait to ask this?”

Even though Manjiro wanted to slam you against his closet, hold your thighs tightly to kiss those soft lips of yours, he couldn’t. Manjiro banged shut his closet making you a jolt.

“Sorry. Did that startle you?”, you felt awful when he thrashed your question just like Draken slowly forgot to buy food for you.

“No. your behavior did”, you tartly spoke and vanished from his sight as soon as possible. He watched you as your faded in your off-white dress. She likes to wear dark-colored inners.

It was almost the end of another semester. All were busy preparing for their exams and at a boiling moment like this, your phone rang in that familiar ringtone. It was Draken.

“Yes, what?”

“I need your help y/n”

“With what? Notes? We’re from different streams Draken. Plus, I’m sure Emma would be happy to help you with that. She knows everyone, bye”

“Wait, wait wait. I need your help” and that tone alone declared that he still hasn’t confessed his feelings. You rolled your eyes since even without the confession they looked like they made it official.

Around four o'clock in the morning, the call ended. He was complaining about how you stopped coming to the canteen and when you came clean, he was so nice to apologize at length, probably overdid it.

The day exams ended, Emma and Naomi insisted you on attending the party at Izana’s penthouse, more like dragged you in it saying it would be fun but here you are standing on the lonely balcony while others were dancing, drinking, and enjoying their youth to the fullest.

After the end of every semester, this was a must. And all thanks to Izana. After his mom died he inherited all the wealth. Even though, he was adopted he inherited all the property as well as the alimony. At first, he didn’t want it. Cursed money he’d say to Ran but the rumor has it a certain girl changed his devilish heart. They’re not together though; It is a wonder how a devil let go of his angel who was ready to soak all his sins.

As soon as you entered the room where DJ was set up, Draken pulled Emma after nodding in your direction. You smiled as you knew what he meant. He is going to confess today. Emma dragged you into the crowd. Emma is not much of a freestyle dancer, she wished to pursue ballet so she stood in a corner watching both of you go wild. You felt a bit remorse thinking she might misunderstand but then again you can’t say explain yourself not when she has not asked for it. It would backfire.

But when Manjiro saw you, you were already swinging your hips along with Ryuguji who seemed too absorbed in the moment. Naomi went to search for Mitsuya. You spotted a guy with a sleeveless vest, headphones around his nape moving his body in rhythm. His tattoo was glowing in the dim light. He looked so hot. You searched for a familiar stature since Rindou was never alone, he always had his brother, Ran by his side even if they were polar in every way.

As you skimmed through the crowd you bumped into Kazutora. He was a bit handsy, and so were you. You still couldn’t spot Manjiro which was a good sign. “Sorry Y/n”, his breath was refreshing non-alcoholic unlike other guys but his eyes declared how stoned he was.

You grabbed his hand and pulled him to a side where it’s less crowded. His ear-spread smile was enough to let you know how thankful he was. A dark-haired boy with emerald green eyes came to his savior. Kazutora immediately wrapped his arms around him and you excused yourself as you noticed the eyes of the other guy. Some would say he’s high but you tend to believe it was little more than just friends.

“Wanna paint your body y/n ?” speak of the devil. You turned your gaze towards Izana who just finished painting Manjiro’s body. A face of a lion on his back. No wonder Izana was selected as a guide for the previous art exhibition. Unfortunately, you missed it since you still hadn’t enrolled in this university.

Manjiro started complaining about how there’s no point in painting his body if he can’t see it. Izana ignored and nudged him to move aside. You hesitated at first, but when you noticed most of the girls were in short tops, you swallowed your inner thoughts before slipping the shirt on the floor.

Now, you were just in a skirt, a pant, and a lacy black bra.Izana grinned. He tapped the cigarette as he kept the brush in the paint bucket. He looked at Manjiro and then towards you before leaving. Great, so everyone knows how you hated him, liked him, or whatever.

Manjiro stood in front of you with that brush in his hand as every sound seem to fade. Can’t you just live for once? Can’t you just have him? Just for once? What could he possibly do in the remaining two semesters?

The moment he was about to say something there was a power cut. A shrill cry of disappointment echoed through the room while you thanked the heavens. You wanted to go away from this place as soon as possible and this seemed like a perfect chance. “Just stay.”, a feeble voice reached your ears while Manjiro pulled you to an adjacent cubicle where the moonlight fell over your face.

The power was back up, and so was the music. He still had the brush in his hand. “Why were you dancing with Ken?”, eyes boring into you as he cornered you more. “Because your sister dragged me”

“Half-sister”, he corrected.

“I don’t care. Move”, you raised your voice as you felt your pulse rising.

“What if I don’t ?”, he blocked the exit with his arm having your naked belly brush the length of his arm. “Look at me”, his lips brushed your ears.

“What if I don’t?”, but your words were responded with action. Manjiro swiftly pulled you against his firm chest. His skin was burning. You froze at his audacity and were ready to scream.

“You’re free to do anything you want”, his limb grazed your boobline. “And so am I”, he murmured before turning you around.

It happened within a blink of an eye. Your hands were above your head pinned by his, one of his legs shoved under your skirt as he sucked your lips. You wanted this, wanted to have him. So what if he forgets after a few months and calls you just for sex? You were not bound to answer him, were you?

“Do you still want me to move?”, he asked. Breathing perfectly normal while you struggled to inhale. You looked at him since his question is so baseless given the fact that he still held your hands above your head. “Right ‘course”, he let go of your hands. As he was about to walk away, you grabbed his toned muscular arm. He is strong. He turned around and nothing need to be said since he noticed your soft parted lips. And just like that, a butterfly was ready to burn its wings in fire, like an ordinary moth.

When you opened your eyes, you were in an oversized shirt, your pants and wrapped in his arms. Manjiro was still sleeping, his blonde strands of hair curled at the bottom. His back was half-clad with the cover. You removed the quilt from him in an instant as the last night’s impulse twinkled like a star. Thank god he is in boxers.

No discarded condom packet was lying as you scanned the floor and the dustbin looked intact. But that still doesn’t mean you didn’t do it. Your chest heaved at the thought of waking him up. You extended your hand and then retreated, then again extended it near his cheeks and instantly curled it in your lap.

“Woah! That was hard to watch”, Izana was so loud or maybe it was the booze that still fazed your senses. He majestically stomped into the room and smiled as he exclaimed, “This is my favorite part”

“Wake up Mikey.”, he grabbed his arms to jerk him a bit. He groaned and curled against your thighs. You never looked so lost before. What exactly you could do when your crush is still asleep beside you while his step-brother wakes him up?

“Shin called me ten times”

“T-E-N times ?!”, Mikey sprung up on the bed.

“He falls for it, every damn time”, Izana quipped looking at you before leaving his brother in absolute horror. Mikey jumped out of the bed and as he turned around he noticed you sitting like a good girl at his display. He swallowed hard noticing the bite marks near your inner thighs and neckline. “Just gimme two minutes, I’ll drop you home”

“No. Thank you”, and that surely woke him up if a lie like that didn’t. He sat near the edge of the bed. “I know girls like you”, he mumbled tapping your nose. He is not even sorry that he tosses girls so easily. You peered through your eyelashes, he continued, “Who thinks it’s a mistake, who thinks it’s bad to do something like this, who thinks they are bad to enjoy their life before marriage.” Your heart flipped inside your ribs as those very lips that spouted such sweet talk dashed on to your lips.

Yes, he knew everything. He knew how easily you would give in, how you were so stubborn to avoid him because this is what scared you the most; to be just another girl to him. If he remembered you as Emma's friend that wouldn’t be a bother but you lost the chance yesterday when you kissed him back.

You pushed him away saying, “I’ve to go” and didn’t pay any heed to his pout. You dressed in the bathroom and before leaving you remarked, “Good luck with that” pointing towards his boner. You smiled as he quickly covered himself.

Manjiro enjoyed this as much as you regretted it, for him, he had won this. He couldn’t care less about you, your silly crush on Ken-chin, or that you’re Emma's dearest friend. He had won the bet.

A new semester began. Naomi and Mitsuya were no doubt in utter shock at such vivid progress. You just had to go through another semester, then you don’t have to see him anymore and he would never know how much your heart ached for him. But things weren’t that easy. While you tried your best to avoid him, he used to pop now and then. He even stopped seeing other girls and the most shocking part is you didn’t even ask for it.

Most of the girls envied you and talked behind your back which made you feel awful since you didn’t ask any of these. You barely kept in touch with him. Sometimes, he would take you for a bike ride and talk about his dreams, and his friends but he neither asked about Ken nor Emma.

He was certainly curious about Naomi but you were lost in him. Those moments however seemed unpromising meant the world to you. Why? Because you had fallen in love with him. You no longer loath him with every beat of your heart. You now desired to let him burn your wings so that you could never leave him, even if your sane voice told you to.

The semester ended way too early or so as it seemed. And like a tradition, most of the familiar faces gathered at Izana’s penthouse. Baji mentioned that he saw Mikey on the balcony with Izana but when you reached there it was empty.

“Looking for Mikey I guess”, a boy with strangely symmetric scars at the edge of his lips asked you as you entered the lift. He followed. You searched his face trying to place if Mikey ever mentioned him in his talks. “Haruchiyo?”, you muttered gaining a wide grin from him. When you looked at him a little too long, he wore his mask. You wanted to apologize but the moment the door of the elevator opened, you stopped as you saw the blonde boy. He was sure with Izana; that was correct but Baji got the wrong floor.

“So, you’re gonna ditch her? Just like that?”, Izana asked.

“ I mean. We’re not together. We are not even official or anything like that. I’ll just walk when I’ll feel like it”, Manjiro puffed out a ring from his drag, as he continued, “I wouldn’t have bothered to do this if Haruchiyo didn’t point it out … that how close she was with Draken. I mean I would ruin everyone who would break my sister’s heart.”

“Still, she needs to know Mikey. It's better that way. She is different ya’know, she is …” Izana absent-mindedly glanced in the direction of the elevator.

There you were standing with blank eyes with Haruchiyo by your side who had no idea that his silly comment would turn into an obsession and eventually end with such an awful heartbreak. Izana was staring at you with parted lips.

“yep. She is different.”, Manjiro added following Izana's trail of vision. You snapped into reality and immediately took the stairs as your eyes met his. That was your last eye contact with him before you walked out of his life.

“Fuck Haruchiyo, move !”

“Mikey? You get most of the girls here and you pull this shit? When you talked about her to me over the phone I thought you changed. You didn't...”

“Fuck, fuck fuck…just move”, Manjiro pushed Haruchiyo aside and ran as fast as he could.

“y/n you're gonna hurt yourself. You're gonna fall off the stairs.”, Manjiro shouted as he ran through the stairs pushing through the crowd. When he reached near the pool area he saw you in a yellow dress running towards the main road.

“y/n STOP. Listen to me. ”, he panted as he saw you pause. “I can explain.”

“Manjiro Sano. I don't want your explanation. You're free now. So, stop following me.”, with that you slowly walked towards the mouth of the main road to catch a bus without looking back. For the first time Manjiro knew how heartbreak sounded. It sounded as if a wounded creature wailed all night till it was dead.

“For the first time in my life, I've seen you interested in a girl.” Manjiro shot his hazy gaze upwards.

“Ken-chin!”

“told you she was too good for you.”

“fuck you.”, Manjiro hissed as he took Draken’s hand to stand up. She indeed is different.

The next day was normal and the day after was too. You didn't speak of him to Naomi. Even, Mitsuya’s visits became less frequent. There were quite a lot of spectators so it's quite normal for people to know about it. Mikey's girls were smiling again but not for long. It was a week.

It was a week everything was like this. Slowly, people started to talk, blame you for Mikey's cold behavior, and hold you responsible if Mikey was absent. Naomi couldn't defend you anymore.

Rumors and lies spread like wildfires. Some even said that he left you because you cheated on him with Haruchiyo. It broke his heart when he saw you in the elevator with Haruchiyo. You pretended not to care while he did the same.

Haruchiyo was easy to find. He was a transfer student at your university. He always wore a mask most probably because he didn't want to catch anyone's eye but you saw him without his mask, that day, more like he let you. Why would he do that?

“Y/n what's wrong with you?”, a shrill high pitched voice gained your attention enough to make you look at the face of the person. You’ve been avoiding people’s faces lately.

Emma. You knew this day would come. You've prepared for this day. You exhaled deeply before she started to cuss at you but all you heard were words of apology.

“Why didn't you tell me? I could have talked to him. I could have talked to Shin— she was on the verge of crying because she held herself responsible when she heard every ounce of truth from Izana. Izana sure is all beauty and brains.

“Emma. Relax. Breath.”, you cupped her hands. “I knew it from the very beginning. I knew it all along. Just pretend that I was one of his easy fucks. that's it”

“is that what you tell yourself?”, Draken quipped. You wondered how long he had been standing near the door but he sure looked concerned, not sure for whom exactly — was it you, Mikey, or Emma?

“No. Because we never fucked each other ”,

“Rrrrr-right!”, he nodded and stared at you.

“We just like had … make-out sessions and bike rides...”, you trailed off when Emma and Draken both were shocked at your words. They couldn't believe it. “Why are you two looking as if I'm lying? Did Mikey already brag about how he fucked me or did he already tell that I was clean so that others could have me...after all I was Mikey's girl ?”

“This is serious.”, Emma remarked.

“Indeed.”, Draken nodded three times. “Mikey doesn't take anyone for a ride, for all the girls he has fucked and he is ...

“what Draken is trying to say is that he is himself with you.”, Emma picked up his cue, and before she could tell you to mend the broken ties you let out a snort.

“Emma. I'll talk to you later. I've classes today”, another lie along with a few thousand others. You checked your watch and quickly walked towards the exit. You headed towards the music class since it was empty at this time.

You were sitting near the window facing it at the music class when you spotted Haruchiyo playing baseball. You watched him through the window as he hit the ball flying across the field. He seemed happy. maybe he still isn't aware of the rumors.

“y/n, do you have class here?”,

“Yes. no. I'm sorry. I'll leave.” when you turned around you noticed a blonde guy and a familiar dragon tattoo peaked through his collar. Manjiro Sano. of course needed a change. He couldn't even look at you.

“We didn't have a proper chance to talk...I’ I’m sorry for all of these. I didn't realize it back then...

his words seem to fade. he seems to become hazy. You felt a burning sensation near your temple before you almost lost balance. you grabbed the handle of the chair but alas! the ball hit you hard enough to make you faint.

When your heavy eyelids opened, you noticed Emma sitting near your feet. Draken's bag was near the bottom of the door. The beeping sound slowly helped you regain your senses. You turned your head only to find Manjiro sleeping as he held your hand. His cheeks were pressed against the back of your hand. You didn't feel his warmth. The sedatives and painkillers were to blame.

You tried to move your hand a little as you tried to remember the last thing before you fainted. You remembered how Manjiro’s voice slurred as he held you in his arms, as you tried your utmost to say I love you too.

You closed your eyes thinking he might just act out of pity. After all, if you hadn't seen him at the infirmary, if he hadn't acted on such an impulse thought, if you didn't know Draken he wouldn't even give a fuck about you, maybe he still doesn't but the way he was grasping onto your palms screamed how desperately he wanted you to stay in with him, only him. You drifted to sleep again.

Damn ! the pills and baseball players. damn Haruchiyo. damn it. fuck everything...

It was night when you woke up in your vivid senses. Your parched throat ached for a drop of wetness. You manage to stand but with that slipper, you were bound to fall and it would surely knock you out forever with such weakness in your body.

The corridors were silent, devoid of bright lights. Your room was engulfed in darkness except for the light perforating through the glass windows. “You never learn do you?”

If it wasn't for the fall, you'd have died out of a heart attack. Who on earth does that?

“I’m thirsty.”

Draken switched on the lights. He texted someone. Probably his dearest friend, Mikey. Before leaving the room he handed you a bottle. You cursed how weak your body was since you were unable to open the cap. Fuck you Draken. You tried a few more rounds and then gave up.

“Here”, a small bottle finely opened with a straw dipped in it. “It’s chilled. Just like you prefer”, you knew that voice, those rough hands, long fingers with a firm grip. You couldn’t seem to get the name properly.

“Izana?”

“Uh…no”, he cleared his throat, “You don’t remember me? It’s Manjiro. Your Manjiro” You tried to gain your composure but finally gave in to his adorable ways, his long eyelashes that reeked of loneliness and surrender; his pink lips that slightly parted and trembled at the possibility of losing you. You had no idea you could wield such power, power to see him vulnerable, to see the Manjiro Sano on his knees. You started to drink the cold mineral water using the straw. Sitting on the bed, having him standing near your knee you left him bobbing like a broken boat with the greatest trail of confusions.

What if the concussion was too much? What if she seriously doesn't remember me? What if she thinks of Izana as me and me as Izana? Oh my god fuck! That’s even worse.

You noticed his grip stiffened and clenched the bed sheets. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I’m fine Manjiro”, you uttered giving him an apologetic look. His eyebrows knitted close. And so you kissed him clearing all his doubts, soaking all his waves of anger and disappointments, absorbing every bit of loneliness from his frail body.

“You shouldn’t have done that”, he remarked as you pulled away from the kiss. His hands were underneath your thighs while yours curled around his slim nape.

“Mikey. Control”, and both of you flew away from each other. Mikey even bashed the back of his head against the wall. He glared at Izana but a bigger stature appeared. It was Shinichiro.

“A word Mikey”, Shinichiro scanned you with suspicious eyes.

As both the Sanos were talking outside, well Mikey was on the explaining end that included lots of hand movements while Shinichiro listened keeping his hands folded in his chest. There was no doubt that they were discussing you since at every other minute Shinichiro looked at you with surprise in his. At each glance, the surprise kept swelling until Manjiro turned him around to make him face his back to you.

“Remember that rumor, that I changed myself for a girl?”, Izana gave you a lollipop because the way Shinichiro shook his head declared that it’s gonna take a little while.

“Yeah…”, you supplied as you took the lollipop.

“Well, it wasn't. It was him”, he popped out his lollipop and smiled looking at you. You raised your eyebrows at him.

“He is so handsome”, and Izana almost choked on his breath since he knew Mikey’s pout would last weeks long because of this. Both the Sanos left in a hurry after Shinichiro got a call. But Mikey came back to say. “Izana watch her. Just watch her”, no one would suspect Izana of being a tease the way he nodded his head like a good boy.

“Do you know why he got that dragon tattoo similar to Draken and Mitsuya?”, Izana asked but he rolled his eyes noticing your curious globes.

“He felt lonely. He was happy for Emma and Draken, for Mitsuya too. No doubt about that but he missed them. He couldn’t exactly roam around the campus like he used to” he looked at you pulling out the candy into his mouth and discarding the stick into the bin. “And then he met you. You whom he thought had a crush on his friend, Draken. So, trust me when I say that handsome brother of his might do the same what Manjiro has done with you.”

“I know I got lucky but that doesn’t change the fact that he is an asshole”

“A valid fact”, he shook his head. He took a few steps towards the exit. “Try to think”, he slipped before leaving you in all sorts of confusion.

When you were discharged from the hospital, it was Izana who came to take you. He brought his car.

“Your mom drained your father in alimony”, you remarked looking at his black Lamborghini. He simply smiled. It smelt of pride and confidence. The car ride was mostly silent but your mind was not. It was a pool of questions, questions like where is he taking you? Why did he come? Why Manjiro didn’t come? Is he angry? Or is he sick?

“I think you’re taking the wrong route”

“Ha-ha. No no. y/n. Mikey couldn’t come. He was nervous since he kinda blames himself for your accident. Plus, the doctor asked you to remain under watch. So, Mikey thought it would be better to take you to my house” Izana noticed your denial as you frowned. “Mikey told me you wouldn’t like the idea” and that softened your expressions.

“Your house? House as in your penthouse?”

“House as in my house”, he corrected. A staff got all your bags while Izana guided you up to your room.

“Wait here! Mikey will be here shortly” and with that Izana left the room.

You pulled the curtains and gasped at the view. The whole city was drenched in rain and the glass became foggy. You wrote, “I love you Manjiro Sano”, and felt childish about it.

“Can I come in?”, you immediately pulled the curtains back and turned around.

“Mikey. It’s you”

“You never call me Mikey,”, his eyebrows grew closer but this time there was a curve at the edge of those pink lips. “What did you do?”, he was wearing a black suit and his boots clicked against the wooden floor as he approached you.

“Stop right there.”, you exhaled “Tell me something, are you planning to take me somewhere and then marry me and then keep me somewhere away from everyone-

Manjiro walked towards you even with your disapproval. You closed your eyes, the curtains clenched in your fist hold as his body grazed yours while his hands swiftly made you release the hold on the curtains.

“I might!”, he whispered as he drew the curtains. “I think I’ve to if you keep doing things like these”

You grinned at him as his eyes bored into you without blinking. Your smile sublimed and a low gasp evaporated through your lips as he pulled you against him, his hands stilling around your waistline. Your nose crooked as he brought his face closer to yours.

"That day if I would have looked you in the eye and said those things, perhaps you wouldn't be so hurt..."

"That day if you looked me in the eye, I would have fled out of your sight", there was a smile on his face, a smile that wouldn't wither away. He took your hands in his and kissed your palms as he continued, "I'm...I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I was such an asshole. All I cared about was winning, winning at everything and anything until I lost myself. I think I love you"

"You still think...?"

"Hey, At least I'm trying...", he muttered softly while your eyes darted to the view outside.

"I think I love you too", you murmured as he wrapped his arms around your belly pulling you close to his body. You were now facing the view again as his lips started to work its wonder.

“I remember how you told me that you’d win every match if I take you to arcade games”, his hands slipped under your dress. “You were so drunk that you barely let me do anything; I wasn’t drunk drunk but I’m glad it was your pussy that I tasted while going down on someone”

“Oh my god! Please stop talking right now.”, you palmed your face in embarrassment but he wasn’t going to stop, not anytime soon.

“And, when you talked about Draken and Emma, about how happy they were, about how lonely you were, I felt that too. It was so hard to hold myself back”, Manjiro sat at the edge of the bed having you in between his legs, his hands still clamped around your thin torso.

“Don’t tell me we did it while I was drunk”, you uttered in dismal.

“No, we didn’t.”, he chuckled as he swung sideways. “You almost cried saying that you’re strong, that a one-night stand doesn’t define you, and that you’re gonna prove Nao wrong”, that it is just a dried leaf of autumnal fall.

“So, try to trust me when I do this…

“Do wh-at …ah aH”, your hands flew back on his thighs. With a firm grip, you gasped as one of his hands massaged your boob while the other rubbed your feminity. You were squirming in his hold but that didn’t faze him. “Man-Ji-ro”, you moaned and it was responded with a harsh bite against your pulse point. He brought his slick wet fingers near his lips. You watched him lick it clean as his other hand rested over your tummy.

Your palm dived into his soft strands of yours as you kissed him instantly. You could feel his smile through the kiss. His hands gave a squeeze on your waist muscles. Manjiro felt you relax as he pulled the elastic of your panty and then released it. It made you flinch and immediately pull away from the kiss.

That was his chance, the only chance to turn the tables around. Within a blink of an eye, you were underneath him. “Fuck, you’re so gorgeous”, he murmured staring at you. You noticed the gleam in his eyes that roamed all over your body and stilled over your excited nipples. You got rid of the red dress that Emma brought you before the day you were discharged.

This is the first time he has seen you naked. You were far more angelic than what he had imagined. Manjiro latched his lips around your pebbled nipple as he interlaced his fingers with yours. You squealed as he sucked too hard before biting your flesh.

“Mikey”, and he rolled along your side. It was Shinichiro's voice. Thank god the door was closed.

He cupped your cheeks and rubbed his thumb over your flushed cheeks.

“MIKEY”,

“Yea! Coming”, he responded. He checked his watch. “Gimme fifteen minutes” and before you could ask him not to stall his brother further he positioned his mouth near your clit. He pushed aside the cloth and gave a broad lick.

A smirk laced his lips because it would take less than fifteen to make you cum. It turned him on as he smelt your arousal.

“Fu-ck! Don’t stop”

“As you wish babe”, his mouth kept altering between broad licks and strong sucks. He paused as he felt you struggle for breath, wraith under his touch till you came.

“May I know where you’re going?”, you asked as he stood motionless staring at your naked body that was glistening in sweat.

“Get dressed !”, he pointed towards your bag. “And stay close to me. Don’t go around jumping all over the place”

You frowned thinking how much of a child he thought you would be. You couldn’t exactly blame him since all he knew about you was from Draken. Mikey had no idea about how a lover acts when they’re around the people they fancy; After all, you are his first love.

networks — @tokyometronetwork

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ohtobeleah · 1 year

Text

Minimal Losses // Jake Seresin

Chapter Four: Kryptonite

Summary: Jake occupancies you down to the local North Island precinct and is totally stuck by the way you are treated by the local authorities.

Warnings: Jake Seresin x FBI!reader. Slow Burn. Criminal Minds crossover. Sexism, misogyny.

Word Count: 4.1k

Author Note: I want you ALL to know that ONE reblog was responsible for reviving this series and putting it back into my writing roster. That’s all it took. One comment. MASTERLIST

Jake, for the life of him, couldn’t quite get a good grasp on the reality he was falling into. He's sitting at a blackened glass round table, in a conference room that he isn't sure he has clearance to be in, sweating so profusely that he’ll need to change his shirt the second he gets back to base.

He hasn’t even really recovered from seeing how easily one of Ben Stiller's many variants had treated you at the front gate, he’s seething, seeing red, but he has to accept that that’s something you've dealt with far too many times to count to even be phased by it now. Desensitised.

There's a man sitting across from him he doesn't know, he’s only just walked in a few seconds ago with a stack of paperwork and cream coloured files. Sitting across from Jake with a huff, clearly pressed for time. The man with dark hair and brown eyes seems to be rattled, but Jake isn't going to be the one who initiates the conversation. It's so quiet he can hear the ticks of hands on the clock hanging above his head.

Spencer Reid is on his left, sitting patiently as ever as he decides now's an incredibly appropriate time to get some light reading done. Jake swears the guy only started the book twenty seconds ago and he's nearing the back pages. He can’t help but to feel awkward and far less worthy than he’s ever felt while he’s tucked between two PHD having brainiacs. But as the thoughts of unworthiness threaten to overcome him, Jake looks to his right, with anxiety he didn't know he could experience riddling his nervous system, he watches as a soft smile creeps across his face absentmindedly as you take a bite of the ham and cheese sandwich he’d watch you slap together in a hurry in the kitchen of the precinct. Typing away with one hand on your laptop that's prompted open in front of you, catching Jake looking at you in your peripheral is what has you freezing, looking at him with a smile so pure it sends his heart clear out of this world. He’s in love.

“Did you want a bite?” You ask as if you're sitting in the livingroom of the dorm you’re occupying back at base and not about to discuss highly classified information regarding an ongoing murder investigation. “I can share if you want?” You ask again and it only has Jake's heart pounding against his chest harder. You were everything he’d dreamed of and then some. Brilliant minded, whitty, so incredibly intelligent, he loved the way your glasses sat just perfectly on the bridge of your nose. He adored the way you just pushed your hair back into whatever position, shape and place would hold. Jake thinks he’s dying, he’s never felt this kind of sensation before—it’s like he’s floating. He’s never been in love with someone before. “Or I can quickly race back and make you one? You like ham and cheese?”

“Nah, nah, I think I'm good.” Jake rubs his clammy hands on his jeans as you go back to what you were working on. He just sits there in awe of everything around him. How you did this for a living he’d never understand.

“JAG got wind of the ongoing investigation.” You don't even look up from the email Special Agent Bradshaw had just CC’d you in on. “Apparently they wanna take over the case.” Jake sat back as he listened, watching intentionally with how you acted around your own team. “Agent Bradshaw just emailed me a copy of the email chain, seems like they’re really pushing—“

“Well, you can tell JAG, Kas, that that won't be happening.” Aaron Hotchener passed you one of the many cream coloured files he’d lugged into the room as Reid sat up a little straighter with his ears pricked to attention. “Ensign Sue Snelling was just found dead in the engine room of the Lexington, thismorning, that’s three victims, no arrest.” Opening the file, you had to quickly shut it so as to not throw up the sandwich you’d just finished scoffing down. “I've just touched base with Agent Bradshaw, she's in the process of pulling her men from the other carriers that we’d had our eyes on but this just means it's been confirmed a serial killer is currently stationed out on the UUS Lexinton and we need to act now.”

“Did the unsub use the same methods?” Spencer asked as he leaned over to take the file from you. “That’s interesting considering he’d know that killing abroad only makes it easier to narrow it down. Like catching fish in a barrel.”

“Unsub?” Jake asked curiously as he looked at Spencer, his elbows now resting on the glass tabletop.

“It means Unknown Subjects.” You explained, which made Jake frown because he thought you knew who the guy was. “We have our suspicions, now we know he’s on the Lexington for sure it rules out a handful of other persons of interest.”

“You must be Jake Seresin?” Aaron smirked for a second from across the table. “I’m Special Agent Aaron Hotcher, Behavioral Analysis Unit chief—Sorry, I’ve had your file sitting on my desk for about a week now but I trust Agent Bradshaw's judgement enough to know she wouldn’t pick a lemon and I haven’t received a distress text from Agent Kas here either.” Hotch kinked his gaze your way for a brief moment as you dipped your chin. Jake wondered if distress texts were something you often sent out. “So, I trust that you’re up to speed and ready to sign your life away to the government for better or worse.”

“I already did that the second I was tapped out of the naval academy, sir—I’m government barcoded and all.” Jake cracked the slight joke just so he could hear you laugh, it worked. Spencer watched with a questioning brow as you covered your mouth to muffle the sounds that escaped without force. He’d never known you to be one for romance, although—he’d never seen someone look at you the way he observed Jake. It was with kind, compassionate eyes that Jake admired you.

“I trust you'll be a fine asset to the team Lieutenant Seresin, Y/n here is an exceptional analysis—keep up with her and you’ll be just fine.” Jake took a moment to rub his hands against his thighs again, suddenly feeling in over his head. He was used to being the best at what he did—but now he wasn’t even on the register. You could sense Jake was spiralling, opting to fish for his pinky under the table and hook yours with his. Grounding the naval aviator who’d drawn you out of your shell.

“You and Agent Kas will be stationed out to the Lexington with the rest of your squadron as of late tomorrow afternoon—we can’t afford to push this anymore than that if we’re another victim down.”

“I don’t know how you guys are gonna spin such a quick turn around.” Jake scoffed softly in disbelief. “Some of the guys who aren’t privy to this whole undercover investigation are gonna smell that somethings up.” Jake was right, but Hotch was already two steps ahead in the short amount of time it had taken you and Jake to shower, change and head over to the precinct. Sliding a cream folder into the aviator's hands, Hotch tilted his head at you in a shared moment of thought. Jake had his head screwed on tight, Arron Hotchner respected that.

“You’re admirals are in a briefing as we speak, they’ll have to figure something out and figure it out fast because you, Lieutenant, are officially an employee of the BAU.” Jake eyed off the content of the file Hotch had slid Jake. It was his. Anything anyone needed to know about Jake Seresin was contained in that file. Stamped across the front read liaison officer. “Bradshaw tells me you’ve been carrying some old NCIS badge around like it’s made of gold.” Spencer snickered to himself as Jake's cheeks lit up like a Christmas tree. You couldn’t help but to laugh as Hotch tossed him a leather flipper case. “So I took liberty and got you actual liaison officer credentials, agent Seresin.”

“Now it’s really official—“ You cooed, smiling at Jake with genuine kindness and admiration as he showed you the credentials you carried around all day everyday. To you they were just another form of Identification, but to Jake? It was something else. He had a duty to keep you safe. That was his only task.

“I haven’t had a chance to organise a weapons training session for Lieutenant Seresin, should I organise that before we go back to the naval base?” You stated and Hotch just shook his head softly. You were good at your job, he’d give you that—but you needed more experience in fieldwork. There was a small part of him that thought you were in over your head with this case—too young, too youthful, too by the book, but Agent Bradshaw had been the one to slap him upside the head and told him to give you a chance. She saw something in you not a lot of people saw. Strength. This was your case and you’d work it start to damn finish.

Much like Spencer, everything was by the book. So when you looked at Hotch as if he’d just told you to forget about the very book you were told to know word for word, he simply replied with something that resonated with Jake a lot more than he’d probably intended it to.

“He doesn’t need to carry a gun to be able to kill someone, Kas.”

“Would be good to at least have him cleared for handling, just for legality purposes.” Spencer could sense the frustration going against protocol and procedure brought you. He could practically see the existential crisis brewing under your skin. “Have you ever handled a gun Lieutenant Seresin?”

“Probably not to the extent you three have but yeah, I’ve dabbled in the odd firing range excursion.” Jake's father had been an avid hunter growing up. He knew his way around a hunting gun, but he’d never used a gun for anything other than shooting rabbits, ducks or deer.

“You and Kasper can head on down to the firing range for a quick skill eval.” Hotch sighed, holding the bridge of his nose. “You’ll need to be quick.”

“I heard Morgan’s in to do a talk on cop killers.” Spencer added as he stood. “I’ll have him line up a skill eval and we can kill two birds with one stone.”

“Perfect, set it up, get these two kitted up, signed out and on that carrier before we end up with another victim—“

***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Alright alright!” You beamed as Jake flashed you his new credentials in the elevator down to the shooting range. “You can stop showing me your badge Jake, it’s getting old.”

“Sorry—it’s actually Agent Seresin now.” Jake corrected you as he pocketed the new identity he’d unlocked, another level of self promotion to ascend his already higher than heaven ego. “God, Roosters gonna cream his pants when I show him.”

“You and Rooster close?” You asked gracefully as the elevator dinged, Jake let you walk out first as his hand fell to the small of your hip. Guiding you although he had no idea where he was going. “Seems as though you get along with Agent Bradshaw on a personal level as well as professional?”

“Well, it’s—“ Jake wasn’t sure this very moment was the most appropriate time to go over his relationship with the Bradshaws. “They’re my people, to put it simply.” That was no word of a lie.

As you and Jake entered the firing range, there were a vast variety of men in uniform huddling around one of the firing zones. Pushing through—you met Derek Morgan, a familiar face amongst a sea of people you didn’t know.

“Hey, Morgan? Why’d you call all these people down here for?” You greeted the much older man who just smiled at you, nodding at Jake in the process— acknowledging his presence. There would be a later time for formal introductions, but right now was not that time.

Hey! How you doin kid?” Morgan teased, he was forever taunting you about your age. “Does your mother know you're here?” Jake caught onto the way people treated you quickly. He was aware that Agent Bradshaw treated you with enough respect that it put a pep in your step, but Jake also caught the glances the men surrounding you at the present gave you. Like you weren’t supposed to be here.

“Give me that.” You hissed as you snatched the handgun from Morgan’s hand, placing a single round into the chamber as you walked into the shooting zone. You placed the earmuffs over your ears haphazardly that have been hanging on the hook beside you and with a single exhale and soft shoulders, you fired the round with precise precision.

“Nice shooting Kas–” Morgan promptly complimented you. Taking the gun as you held it out for him.

“Better than Billy the kid.” You beamed, again—Jake noticed the pep in your step.

“Diaper rash makes you cranky huh?” That same pep was gone just a few seconds later. “Here.” Morgan handed you the target you’d shot, there was a bullet hole directly in the middle of the target. “Give this to your mum, maybe she’ll stick it on the refrigerator door.”

The girl who stood amongst a sea of testosterone wasn’t the girl Jake had taken home that night from the bar, you’d shrunken six feet under as your shoulders slumped, taking the target sheet from Morgan. He didn’t know how much his commitment affected you, but Jake could see straight through the tough exterior you tried to front.

“Shit, that was pretty badass, you know—“ Jake caught your gaze as you came to sant beside him, bumping his hip to yours. “For a behavioural analysis.”

“I took an advanced firearms course my second year with the bureau, not that I ever thought I’d be in the field.” With every day that past, Jake Seresin learnt a new fact about you that left him stunned into complete silence. For someone who had the gift of the gab, that was a compliment in and of itself. You’d been the only person who could render Jake silent. With nothing to say.

“Okay who's wearing?” Morgan looked around the group of police officers who just stared at him blindly like he’d asked such a personal question. When no one answered, you frowned. Idiots you thought as you rolled your eyes.

Raising your hand, every man that stood in the room laughed and turned to one another like you'd just outed yourself as some prissy desk jockey.

“Kas?” Morgan even raised a brow in response to you wearing a vest.

“Everyone should be wearing.” You replied shortly. “It’s protocol.” Looking around, all eyes were on you. All snickering, all looking down at you.

“Okay, fair—but baby girl imma need to borrow it real quick.” Morgan smirked, gesturing for you to hand over your vest.

“Here sugar, let me assist you–” a voice called out from the back of the crowd before a gaggle of laughter erupted from the man who all stood around waiting for the demonstration to begin. Jake couldn’t have clenched his jaw harder if he wanted to.

“Oh no thanks, I've been dressing myself since I was five years old.” You snapped back, turning your chest into Jake to shield yourself from being completely exposed as you undressed from the waist up. “All you perverts turn your heads.” You spoke over your shoulder as a horrifying whistle echoed throughout the firing zone. Jake saw red as he looked down at you, watching as you slipped your shirt over your head, unclipping the bullet proof vest that you’d been wearing since you left the base. It left you vulnerable, exposed in just your bra. “Here.” You handed Morgan the vest with a meek look. Fuck you could just die right about now.

“Hey, I’m right here—don’t worry about anyone else.” Jake cooed, his eyes searching yours for confirmation you were listening to him. Tilting your chin up with his index finger and thumb as you balled your shirt up in your firsts against his chest. “I ain’t gonna let no one hurt you.” Jake was quick to whisper. “But for what it's worth? Both on and off the record? I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

You would have kissed him then and there on the spot if you hadn’t been standing where you were. Morgan’s voice brought you crashing down to reality harder than ever as you worked to throw your short back on. Turning so your back was now against Jake's chest.

“Okay everybody listen up, I want you all to take a good look at these lovely little bullets.” Morgan handed out a handful of red tipped bullets. “Cute right? You’ll notice the smooth jacket, pay particular attention to the tip.” Hanging your vest, Morgan pushed the bottom that had it flying back towards the furthest point away from the shooting range. Further back than you’d ever really seen anyone practise at.

“Now you've all seen one of these vests stop a .357 magnum bullet at close range haven't you?” Everyone nodded, including you. Jake nodded just to fit in but he didn’t know shit. “Observe–” Morgan turned, firing a single round into the vest at long range. You weren’t too sure what to expect, but as he pressed the button to bring the vest back to the window, you audibly gasped.

“Son of a bitch–” You sighed, watching as Mogan poked his finger right through the bullet hole he’d shot straight through the vest. Pulling out a piece of protective armour and holding it up. A single round had gone straight through.

“Armour-piercing bullets?” Jake raised an eyebrow as he leaned in behind you to whisper his concern into your ear, not wanting to sound dumb to anyone other than you.

“Yeah, cop killers.”

“Now these bullets came from a suspect one of you fine young men arrested yesterday.” Morgan passed one of the police officers who stood stunned the bullet pierced armour plate that had now been rendered useless. “Yep–that's right, gentleman, and lovely little lady.” Morgan turned to you, the only woman in the room. “They’re out on the streets.”

It made your heart race slightly, the idea of far less protection being readily available now than there was before. What a time to make a breakout in your career, there was a slight moment of regret behind your eyes as you turned into Jake, he looked just as worried as you did but he wasn't plagued with the same plethora of knowledge you were. You should have stayed behind the desk, given the case to someone with more experience, you were far too in over your head.

Morgan handed you the shot through vest, winking as he noticed the way you hung closer to Jake than he’d ever seen you hang around anyone. You were far too much like Spencer in that aspect, walking, talking computers. He smiled, taking in the fact you hadnt bothered to separate from your new partner, clearly comfortable in his presence as you took the vest back. Pressing your lips together in a tight line as Jake let his hand rest on your shoulder.

“Vests are optionals boys and girls, especially girls.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

You could tell something was up just by the way Jake was practically silent in the car on the way back to base. He had the gift of the gab, so when Jake Seresin was silent it wasn't hard to come to the conclusion that something was ping ponging around his that big ass head of his.

“Jake, it's fine–” You sighed, letting your shoulders slump back as you drove, your hands at ten and two.

“I really don’t fuck with the way you’re treated.” Jake’s voice came out far more gruff than he intended it to as he looked out the window. “From that dickhead at the gate to that Derek guy to the way those officers just–” He couldn't finish his own sentence without clenching his jar, cracking his knuckles. “You should stand up for yourself a little more, you know that right?”

“Huh.” It was hard not to feel slightly offended, amongst all the little jabs that had been dealt your way today, Jakes had been the hashest of them all, unintentionally. “I'll be sure to put that at the top of my to-do list, Lieutenant Sersin.”

“Kas–” Jake let his head fall back against the headrest as he turned to look at you. He hadnt noticed the glossy look in your eyes or the way you bit your bottom lip until it was too late to take what he’d already said back. “I didn't mean it like that, I just think you deserve so much more respect than you’re given and if people aren't giving it to you then you need to–”

“Jake, I already have enough people telling me what to do right now, I don't need you adding yourself to that ever growing list.” The drive back to base wasn't all that far, but with the way Jake was burning a hole into the side of your head with his glare, it felt like a lifetime.

“You are the most intelligent person I know, yet you act like you’re less than significant?” Jake questioned, he didn't understand why you let people walk all over you. He didn't understand why you didn't speak up when being spoken down to. He didn't understand what it was like to be a woman in a man's world. He’d only ever surrounded himself with people like Phoenix and Special Agent Bradshaw. His mother and sisters would ever let someone treat them the way you let others treat you. Powerful forces to be reckoned with who took no crap from anyone, including him.

You were just different, Jake didn't understand why you weren't like the other women in his life. For someone as brilliant minded and gifted as you he thought there would have had to have been some sort of cockness to you–a level of I know more than you, somewhere buried deep inside. But you just didn't see yourself the way he saw you.

“The way people talk down to you, it makes me want to break every bone in their body.” Jake saw you as a higher power, a goddess living amongst merely mortal men.

“I am insignificant, Jake.” You mumbled as you turned into the base car park, dreading having to pretend to be someone you weren't. A fighter pilot with balls of steel. You couldn't even stop yourself from getting a nosebleed. “I'm a pencil pusher! I'm not like Agent Bradshaw, I don't know what I'm doing, I'm in over my head and people are dying.” Jake just let you talk, he listened with intent to everything you had to say, wanting an insight into how you saw yourself.

“There is a serial killer on a carrier in the middle of the ocean and my sole responsibility right now is making sure I take him down and you’re sitting here, telling me I need to stand up for myself?”

“I'm not trying to tell you anything Kas, I just think you deserve more respect than what's given to you.” Jake reached gently for your hand, being careful not to startle you as he guided your grip off the wheel and into his palm, fingers intertwining as he brought the palm of your hand up to his mouth–pressing his lips to your pal in a simple domestic act of admiration. “You are so beautiful, so intelligent, it's hard to understand how people don't see you the way I see you.”

“Oh yeah? And how exactly do you see me?” Jake wanted to say as the love of his life, he wanted to say his future wife, the mother of his children he didn't know he wanted. But he knew that sounded crazy, so he stuffed the crazy deep inside and went with something a little more appropriate.

“I see you for you, Y/n.” You had to pull your eyes away from the carpark you'd just parked in for a few seconds to really take a minute to look at Jake. “The reason I came up to you at the Hard Deck initially had been because I thought you were one hell of a looker.” You had to chuckle, you couldn't help it, shaking your head as Jake tilted your chin back up to look at him. “But unlike all the other women I’ve met, you didn’t fall for my crap, you spoke to me like you knew every answer to every question I could think of.” Leaning over the centre console, you smirked against Jake's lips as he pulled you close with his hand pressed to the back of your head.

“I still slept with you though—“ Jake's lips ghosted your own as he smiled devilishly, rubbing the pad of his thumb behind your ear as he kept you leaning into him. “Three times actually, so I can’t be as bright as you think I am.”

“Everyone’s got a kryptonite.” That’s what sent you and Jake into a frenzy, gripping onto each other like you were the last two people on earth, dizzy and needy. Your lips crashed against Jakes as his hand moved from the back of your head to the dip of your neck, holding you in a feverish kiss that honestly had you seeing stars.

Your tongue danced with Jakes like you'd known him for a lifetime, before you pulled away to breath, to find your bearing and remember you were back at base.

“What you saw today, that's an everyday occurrence, to me it's just become an occupational hazard, so unless you are single handedly going to change the stigma surrounding Female Agents, Lieutenant Seresin?”

“That's Agent Seresin with the FBI to you Lieutenant Jackson.” You couldn't help but to scoff, shaking your head as you bit your bottom lip.

“Do me a goddamn favour and get off my dick.” Jake just beamed, wrinkled his nose and balled his fist as if he were celebrating a victory of some sort, looking at you with such bright, love filled eyes. You were defending yourself, well–trying to, in the safety net of Jake Seresin. Your effort was met with a thousand watt grin, the corners of Jakes lips tucked ear to ear before he cooed three simple words that had you drooling.

“That's my girl.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Tags // @auroraboreallisfine @buckythewintersquirrel @a-lil-bit-nuts @bookaholics-stuff @ilovewhalesharks444 @a-serene-place-to-be @alexsisrebekah @rhirhikingston @caitsymichelle13 @twsssmlmaa @chaoticversion @topguncultleader @averyhotchner @phoenix1388 @emma8895eb @avaleineandafryingpan @endofdays56 @dempy

#minimal losses // jake seresin #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake hangman imagine #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake hangman x y/n

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little-diable · 2 months

Text

There's just something about you – Professor!Austin Butler (smut)

Well well well, ofc I {as somebody who has a massive prof!crush} had to give in and write this. I think this has potential for a part 2, so please tell me how you feel about that. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader works as Professor Butler's teaching assistant. The two are about to take a trip with his class when she gets sick. While staying with him for the weekend the two finally give in to the pull keeping them chained together.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (f), professor x TA relationship, quite fluffy

Pairing: prof!Austin Butler x fem!TA!reader (3k words)

picture credit to the original owner

“Alright, listen up!“ Professor Butler’s voice echoed through the room. His words were followed by instant silence, forcing all eyes towards the handsome professor. She stood close to him, not enough to feel his body heat clashing against her, though just enough to hyperfocus on the scent of his expensive cologne – a scent she’d always pick up on, no matter where she was at.

“As you all know, we’re leaving for our trip next week. (Y/n) was kind enough to take over the bookings, but we need you to find one or two people to share a room with. Please send (y/n) an email til Monday, so we can avoid any confusion when we check in. If you have any further questions about the trip or concerns, feel free to reach out to one of us.”

She had joined the faculty as Professor Butler’s PhD candidate and teaching assistant a while ago, slowly having to adjust to being around a man like him. At first, (y/n) had struggled to focus, fighting against the urge to stare at him at any given chance, but slowly she had gotten more and more relaxed around him, actually getting to enjoy her interactions with the young professor.

“Please don’t forget your homework, alright? I’ll see you all next week.” The room was filled with loud noises as he ended the class, forcing the students to their feet and out into the hallway. (Y/n) busied herself with his notes, rechecking them before she allowed her gaze to find his bright eyes. “You did good today, (y/n), if you feel comfortable enough you can gladly do next week’s class on your own.”

“I don’t think I feel ready to do this without you yet.” His big hand found her shoulder, leaving her torn between focusing on the feeling of his thumb softly stroking the fabric of her blouse, and the intense eye contact he now held with her. For a second, neither of them spoke, leaving (y/n) to wonder what he was thinking about.

“Alright, but you’re by far better than me at catching their attention, I hope one day you’ll realise that.” Professor Butler’s raspy chuckle had an addicting effect to it, leaving her to avert her gaze as he took a step away from her. “Chinese takeout while we grade the essays?”

……

She woke with a pained whine as her hand reached for her phone, trying to read the time. It was Saturday morning, two days before they’d go on their short trip, but her body was clearly fighting against all plans, making her suffer from a sore throat and a blocked nose. Curses wanted to claw through her, cursing fate for pushing her into her misery.

(Y/n) had been looking forward to the trip for a while, excited about spending some more time with Professor Butler outside of his office and the room he was teaching in. Secretly she had hoped for some more calmer moments where they could go back to sharing information about one another that had nothing to do with their research or their university work. Hopes that were now evaporating into nothing but cold air.

For a moment, (y/n) pondered over her choices, but her fingers had already started to move before her mind could protest, opening the email app. With a few quick words she sent her professor a small warning, telling him that she was sick and would most likely not be able to join on Monday. She felt pathetic for the wave of hurt and exhaustion flushing through her, leaving her trembling body to search the warmth of her bed.

It didn’t take long for her phone to go off, forcing her glassy eyes to read his reply. Simple words told her to give him a call with his added number to the email. Perhaps it was the fault of her cold, perhaps it was the fault of her hazy thoughts, whatever it was, it stopped (y/n) from overthinking, clicking on the number before her anxiety could get the best of her.

“Morning, (y/n).” His raspy voice shot shudders down her spine, momentarily letting her eyes flutter close. She repeated the greeting while internally cringing at the raspy sound of her voice. “Oh sweetheart, you sound horrible.”

Heat rose to her face at the pet name, having to forcefully stop herself from gasping. She could only let go of a hum, not trusting herself to speak coherent words he could easily pick up on.

“Are you still living alone?” A while ago (y/n) had told him about her struggles to find a roommate, unsure who to pick as she had high priorities she didn’t want to let go of. Once again she hummed, wondering where he was taking this conversation. “Alright, I want you to pack a bag. I’ll pick you up in a few, you’re spending the weekend with me, I can’t go on that trip without you. We’ll get you back to your healthy self in no time.”

“Professor,” she sat up as she tried to protest, having to drown out the sinful thoughts instantly flushing through her mind. “I don’t want to take up any of your space, and you could also get sick. I’ll be alright here, don’t worry.”

“No, you’re staying with me. I won’t accept any protests, (y/n). What’s your address?”

It hadn’t taken long for them to end the call, for her to take a quick shower and to pack a bag. Her heart kept racing in her chest, urging her to move, to be smart about the things she packed. She barely got any time to overthink as he had arrived at her place rather quickly, but now as she was sitting on his couch, wrapped in a blanket, (y/n)’s thoughts finally caught up with her.

Austin – as he had asked her to call him – was all too gentle with her, tending to her every need with worry tugging on his features. (Y/n) could only guess that she looked as horrible as she felt, tired eyes barely managing to stay open, and yet she didn’t want to miss a thing, cherishing the chance to be so close to him.

“How about we watch a movie before I make some soup, huh?” Austin plopped down next to her, tugging on her legs to place them in his lap. (Y/n) allowed herself to study him for a few seconds, his blonde hair had that slightly unruly touch to it, blue eyes focusing on his TV. He wore a simple white shirt that perfectly stuck to his muscles, paired with blue jeans that gave him a different touch to the version of him who always wore suits in class.

“Sure, I’m good with whatever.” He shot her a quick smile that left her trembling, having to calm her racing heart with her grasp on the blanket growing stronger. She barely managed to pay the opening sequence of the movie any attention, getting lost in her thoughts as his thumb stroked the soft skin of her ankle, holding onto her as if he was scared she could slip right through his fingers.

For the first time in years, she felt an unfamiliar kind of safety wrapping itself around her, clinging to her like a second skin made to protect her, to cherish her, to perhaps even love her.

……

Quiet steps carried her towards the big kitchen, engulfed in darkness as (y/n) started the kettle, hoping that another cup of tea could finally lull her to sleep. She was too deep in thought to notice his approaching figure, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed in front of his naked chest.

“You alright, sweetheart?” (Y/n) jumped at the sound of his raspy voice, pressing her hand to her chest as she turned towards him. A laugh clawed through Austin, guiding him closer to her with slow steps. “Sorry, I didn’t want to scare you.”

(Y/n) had to turn from him, trying to focus on the almost boiling water as he came to a halt behind her, reaching for another cup. His naked upper body was pressed against her back, one of his arms found its way around her waist to keep her close to him. Goosebumps covered her limbs, silently whispering to her, guiding her hand to find his.

No words were spoken between the two as she poured the hot water into the big cups while Austin reached for the teabags. He loosened his hold on her as if he was begging her to turn around, to get lost in the bright eyes that reminded her of warm summer mornings spent at the beach, getting lost in daydreams that felt more real than memories of things she had lived through. Her body urged her to move, to lean against the counter with her eyes finding his features, wandering over his handsome face.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, (y/n)?” She didn’t trust her voice, knowing that she’d most likely make a fool of herself, but the two hands finding her waist, keeping her caged between his tall frame and the counter, encouraged her to part her lips. (Y/n)’s eyes focused on his neck, on the golden necklace he wore, dangling from his neck like a pendulum about to give her a glimpse into her future.

“I,” a shaky exhale left (y/n), trusting her mind and heart to guide her. “I keep thinking about how comfortable I feel here. Thank you for letting me stay with you, Austin.”

She expected him to shoot her his signature smile, to pull away from her to reach for his cup. But he kept close to her, hand slowly moving up to her face, cupping her cold cheek. He forced her to look up at him, making her breath hitch in her chest as she watched his gaze flicker between her eyes and her lips.

“I tried to stay away from you, but you’re not making it easy for me, sweetheart.” (Y/n) got no chance to reply, silenced by the feeling of his lips finding hers. Ever since she had joined his team, (y/n) had imagined this very moment, wondering how his lips would feel pressed against hers, how he’d hold onto her as they got lost in their kiss. But this was so very different to all these daydreams, more intense, more exciting even. With his hands finding the back of her thighs, he helped her onto the counter, allowing himself to stand between her thighs as they kept kissing.

“Now you’re definitely getting sick for sure,” (y/n) mumbled the words against his lips as they parted to catch their breaths. Austin’s raspy laugh echoed through the kitchen, bright eyes burning her skin as if she was caught in a wildfire, about to burn to the ground.

“For you I’ll gladly take on the struggles of being sick.” His words left her heart roaring, lips finding his once again. Their tongues met in a teeth clashing kiss, wordlessly managing to communicate their longing, the desperate need they had fought against these past months. “I need you to be honest with me, do you want this? I don’t want to pressure you, sweetheart.”

“Take me to bed, professor.” (Y/n)’s smirk grew wider as his pupils dilated, picking her up without another warning. She had her legs wrapped around him, face buried in the crook of his neck. Within seconds they found themselves in Austin’s bedroom, he didn’t give her much time to take in the big room, the pictures gracing the walls, fully focused on him as he pressed her down on the mattress.

Austin kissed his way down her throat as if he was following the trail of a treasure hunt, high on the adrenaline of the search. (Y/n) trembled beneath him while her fingers tugged on the hairs at the nape of his neck before moving down to his muscular shoulders. Somehow it felt as if they had done this numerous times before, knowing exactly how and where to touch one another.

He parted from her to pull her shirt over her head, focus instantly drawn to her naked chest. The way Austin was staring at her made (y/n) feel as if he was marvelling at a masterpiece, a creation of old times the human mind barely managed to understand. Carefully he cupped her breasts, groaning at the feeling of her soft skin pressing against his. They held eye contact as he brought his lips back to her skin, sucking on both nipples before kissing his way down her stomach.

“Austin,” (y/n) choked on his name, begging him to keep on moving, to touch her where she needed him the most.

“Talk to me, sweetheart, what do you want?” His voice grew lower with every spoken syllable, pushing heat down to her core. She felt her walls clench around nothing, begging him to finally fuck her.

“You, all of you. Please, I need you so badly.” Without speaking another word, he ripped her panties from her hips, letting his fingers explore her arousal-covered folds. His name rolled off her tongue, she arched her back at the careful touches, trying to shuffle even closer. Austin could do whatever he wanted to her at that very moment, she was putty in his hands, his to toy with, his to use for his own pleasure. Whatever he wanted, she’d do it, if he kept on touching her like this.

“Will you let me taste you? I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.” (Y/n) could only nod her head, letting go of a breathless gasp the second his rough tongue brushed through her folds. Austin moaned at her taste, he wrapped one arm around her thigh, keeping her pressed to him while the other hand found her clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves with his fingers. Within the first seconds of him touching her, (y/n) had known that she wouldn’t be able to hold on for long, overstimulated by his touches.

No longer could she spare her hurting throat any attention, no longer did she struggle to breathe on, all she could do was focus on him, on the way he dipped his tongue into her tightness, how he added more speed to his movements, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

“You taste so sweet, I could stay like that forever, if you’ll let me.” She moaned at his praise, fingernails scratching at his skin to try and hold on. Her legs were trembling from the strength she used to curl her toes, unsure how much longer she could stop herself from giving in to an intense orgasm.

“It’s alright, cum for me, show me how pretty you look when you cum for me.” Austin’s words pushed her into the open arms of her orgasm, calling out his name as he kept circling her clit with a smirk glued to his lips. He watched her every move, every micro-expression he could pick up on, fully mesmerised by the beautiful woman he had wanted to pull closer for months.

“Oh god,” (y/n) panted the words, drawing gleeful chuckles from Austin as he let go of her. Her glassy eyes watched him undress, gaze wandering down his muscular upper body, past his six-pack to his sweatpants. His cock sprang free as he stepped out of his clothes, a sight that pushed heat straight down to her cunt, needing to feel him buried inside of her. “I need you to fuck me now, I can’t wait any longer, Austin.”

“Mhm, such a desperate girl, we should teach you some patience one day.” He reached for a condom, rolled it down his cock and positioned himself between her thighs. With her hand finding the back of his neck, (y/n) pulled him back down for a kiss, distracting herself from the slight pain as he pushed into her, having to adjust to his size. For a second, they held still, clinging to one another to let go of a few deep exhales, fingers interlaced to try and keep themselves grounded.

“Move, please, professor.” Austin let go of a growl at the use of the title, building a comfortable rhythm that allowed one another to get used to the sensation. He was careful with her, not daring to hurt her when she was still sick, not fully able to guide her body. But the blissful expression tugging on her features was enough to calm his racing heart, finding enjoyment in the way she clung to him, how she seemingly felt the same pull he did.

They were a mess of tangled limbs, of moans blurring together, of hearts beating in sync, a match so perfect neither of them wanted to break out of their very own bubble. Their bodies met with every thrust, bringing them closer and closer together, while their eyes found back together.

“My pretty girl, I don’t want to let you go again.” He murmured the words against her lips, luring a soft chuckle out of (y/n).

“Don’t let me go, don’t you dare.” Her head rolled back as his cock nudged her swollen spot, leaving him grinning in success. Austin kept staring down at her, trying to burn every passing second into his mind, praying that he won’t ever forget about this night.

“Touch yourself, make yourself cum on my cock, sweetheart.” With a gasp leaving her, her fingers found her pulsing clit, moving quickly to give her the needed push. He fucked her through her second orgasm, letting go himself as she relaxed beneath him.

Austin clung to her as they both tried to catch their breaths, only parting as they managed to break through the hazy fog wrapping itself around the two lovers. He threw away the condom before he returned to her, cupping her now warm cheek to pull her in for another kiss.

“How about a bath?” She could only nod as he picked her up and carried her into his bathroom, while making the silent promise to cherish her for as long as she’ll let him.

#Austin Butler smut #Austin Butler x reader #professor fic #Austin Butler imagine #professor crush

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